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finally remembered the password to this account 😭😭

“Pretty flowers?”

arthur morgan x female reader !!!

no smut, fluff, flustered arthur, barely put any work in this ^_^

—

Arthur entered Saint Denis and began to walk around aimlessly, the atmosphere of the town leaving a foul impression on him. He despised it with a burning passion, yet the memory of your conversation and your love for flowers prompted him to overcome that distaste and set off to find those pretty flowers you enjoyed.

After countless hours of strolling, Arthur managed to find an exquisite bouquet of flowers in a store, their sweet and pleasant aroma filling his sense of smell with each breath while the bouquet caught his attention with its beauty. Arthur cared nothing for the exorbitant price of the flowers. The thought of your sweet smile was more important to Arthur than money could ever be, and he felt content with making this small sacrifice to see you happy.

—

Arthur cradled the bouquet of flowers in his hands as he walked out the store, “I hope she’ll like em..” Arthur muttered under his breath. He gave the petals a light caress with the pads of his fingertips. He hoped you would immediately fall in love him and just ask to marry him on the spot. His attention remained focused solely on the flowers, causing him to accidentally bump into his horse. The horse was startled and let out a small huff in response.

“Ah, ‘m sorry, boah.” Arthur stuffed his hand in his satchel and pulled out an oatcake, feeding his horse. Arthur showed the horse the flowers with the intention of eliciting its reaction. The horse simply sniffed the flowers before going back to its usual duties, providing no discernable reaction.

Arthur's anxiety took the helm of his emotions once more, causing his frustration to bubble up in his chest. His uncertainty only further fueled his anxiety, as he awaited your reaction with mounting concern.

The horse began galloping back to camp. Arthur was completely immersed in his thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything outside your presence in his mind. He paid no mind to his horse or where it was headed, his attention only on the thought of you at camp. Every little gesture you displayed made his heart swell with happiness, yet he had yet to notice his horse heading the wrong way..

The horse let out a startling whine in response to the sudden gunshot, bucking Arthur off its back and causing him to tumble into the dirt. The bouquet was now covered in mud, its beauty tarnished and its fragrance muted. Arthur's careless movements as he rolled in the dirt caused the bouquet to get crushed underneath him, the flowers trampled in the result.

“Shit..” Arthur was overwhelmed by feelings of humiliation after noticing the state of the bouquet, disappointed that he would be presenting you with such messy and ruined flowers. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of laughter coming from afar, prompting him to hastily duck behind a tree and hide from view, Arthur stuffed the flowers into his satchel. He cautiously observed his surroundings, scanning for the sound with rising concern.

O'Driscolls filled up the camp, their boisterous laughter and the clink of beer bottles filling the atmosphere. The gang members did not care about being quiet, as their behavior was rather outlandish and chaotic, their lack of concern for noise apparent to Arthur.

Arthur leaned down, reaching for his shiny revolver and firing numerous rounds towards the men, his anger evident from his sharp and abrupt shooting. Each O’Driscoll tried putting up their best shot but died one by one. Arthur’s arm flew up to his head, wiping the sweat dribbling off his forehead. Putting his two fingers in his mouth and began whistling for his horse. His horse soon turned up, nuzzling its face into Arthur’s calloused palms.

“Awhhh, it’s alright, boah.” Arthur was quick to dismiss his horse's actions, forgiving its small misdoings without second thought. Even if the horse made a bigger mistake, Arthur would still be quick to forgive it.

"Let's head home," he stated softly, putting his revolver away and beginning to move away from the area, staring down at the torn flowers resting in his satchel.

—

Finally returning to camp after the encounter with the O'Driscolls, Arthur was greeted by several gang members with a few smiles and familiar greetings. However, when Arthur's gaze met yours, seeing that soft smile you gave him, he was filled with a blend of emotions. His throat tightened as he swallowed the lump down, the sweat beading down his body the physical manifestation of his anxiety.

This was the moment Arthur had dreaded, yet he couldn't back out now. He attempted to wipe off most of the mud on his body but it failed miserably, just getting it more on his pants. Arthur grew annoyed but with a deep breath, he summoned all of his courage and approached you, digging the crushed flowers out of the satchel with his shaking hand. His hand slowly stretched outward, attempting to offer you the pitiful bouquet.

“For you..” Arthur's voice was barely audible, seemingly unable to hold his ground and meet your gaze as he attempted to offer you the pathetic bouquet. The crushed flowers were the only remnants of the beautiful bouquet Arthur had once envisioned, and the sight made him feel deeply embarrassed. He remained staring at the ground with an intense stare as he waited for your response.

"What happened to them?" Your soft and concerned voice greeted Arthur's ears, eliciting a wave of shame and frustration. He felt mortified by his appearance, your reaction to him a painful reminder of the unfortunate incident that brought about the crushed bouquet.

"They.. were like this when I first got em," Arthur lied quickly, he was a terrible liar but he didn’t wanna tell you the true story. You would’ve laughed in his face. taking a deep breath. His gaze remained fixed on the ground while his body visibly tensed up from the embarrassment.

“Oh, what a shame.” You sighed softly, knowing Arthur was attempting to cover up the truth, but you were unwilling to pursue the matter any further. Your gaze found his blushing cheeks, your heart warming at the thought of him trying to get you a gift. It was an unexpected sight, seeing the ‘rough n tough outlaw’ so flustered and embarrassed as he attempted to give you the crushed bouquet. You took it in your hands, smiling at the sight.

“I know it’s not pretty —“ Arthur scratched the back of his neck. He began speaking but you interrupted him quickly.

“I love them.” You smiled, kissing his cheek.

i love u!!!!!

ILYM!!!!!!!!! ^_^

i have a bone to pick w whoever tf tried to slit javier's throat

HOPE UR DOING WELL!!

i ammmm!!! <33 >_<

Would you consider writing for Javier??

yes!! i love love looovveee javier! i just don’t have any ideas for him yet :c

all i do on this fucking game is cry

making another arthur x female reader !! 💞 no smut :c

defending abigail on the internet isn’t enough, i need a gun

“Why won’t you choose me?”

john marston x f!reader

summary !!!! — you’re johns side chick but you’re getting pretty tired of it so you tell john u or abi.. unfortunately he won’t leave his wife for you.

warnings !: smut at the first part (not rlly smut srryyyy) mostly just angst, johns gets drunk for a lil lol and a stinky cheater lol……. I think thatst it !!! ^_^ enjoyyy 😴😴

i feel so bad for abi in this :c i love her smm ill make her smth soon !!

this is kinda short so i do apologize !! i don’t have time to make it longer :((

—

"Thank you, sweetheart. I needed this." John pressed his forehead against yours, the glimmer of sweat and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils. Cupping your hips with his calloused hands, sliding his length out of your throbbing hole. You let out a whiny moan at the loss feeling of him inside of you.

"I know — I know, I’ll see you later?" John responded, you sighed softly. John was attempting to urge you to leave his tent quickly due to the rising tension within him. Johns heart was racing at the thought of his wife, Abigail, approaching his tent and finding you half naked in Johns tent as his cum rested on your chest. He personally never cared for aftercare, not with you. You were just something to get his stress out. John quickly grabbed a rag and began rubbing off the mess off of you, burying the rag deep in his pocket, making a mental note to throw it away later.

"John.. I, er — can we talk about this? I don’t —" Your sentence was cut short by John's abrupt intervention, as he hastily shoved you out of the tent. Without giving you a chance to speak, John rushed around, frantically tidying up the cot, completely ignoring your presence.

—

Another heated argument erupted between John and Abigail, yet this one was worse for the both of you. Abigail was growing more suspicious with each passing moment, she began questioning the mysterious marks resting on John's neck. The outlaw was at a loss for words, utterly incapable of formulating a believable lie.

“It’s nothin’ Abigail.. just — quit it,” John attempted to pacify Abigail with a gentle rub of her shoulders, his free hand attempting to conceal most of the marks on his neck from her view by making his jacket cover most. She was unwilling to listen to those lies, growing tired of his bullshit and storming off. Johns hands slapped on his face, sighing frustratedly.

John could feel your gaze drilling into his skull, even after he strolled away into his tent. His temper had reached its limit, the pressure of his situation piling up on him as he responded in his usual brash manner. "What? I ain’t in the mood to deal with you either," he scoffed, spinning on his heel and storming off. A shiny bottle was held tightly in his hand, the contents inside indicating his desire for a brief escape from reality.

You never understood Johns relationship with Abigail. Nobody did. Not even John himself.

—

"I'm getting real sick of that attitude," you huffed, hovering above John as he lay flat on his back on the ground. He laughed drunkenly, his words barely intelligible as the alcohol took over his mind. "Why does it matter to you?" John laughed out a response, his words slurred and his speech already incoherent.

"Abigail or me." You firmly demanded, clearly frustrated by John's attitude. The outlaw's drunken wheezing laughter suddenly came to a halt, his sudden shift in expression making it clear he was getting angry. He propped himself up, his voice still slurred. "Are you serious..?" he uttered, his voice growing increasingly furious as he stared you down, his gaze burning into you.

John responded immediately, the words falling from his tongue without a second thought. "I'm not leaving my wife." He spoke through clenched teeth, taking a swig out of his beer before tossing the remainder onto the ground. The bottle broke into numerous shards on the ground, the sharp noise reverberating all throughout the encampment. You listened to him with a sinking heart, but a deep part of you knew his words to be true. You had dared to dream, wanting to believe that he would choose you, oh, how wrong you were.

"You don't love me?" You asked, your voice full of a deep sense of heartbreak and longing. John kept silent, refusing to answer your question, which gave you a clear hint at how he felt. He eventually muttered out a half-hearted "Sorry." before stumbling away, turning his back to you as you remained speechless, your eyes already filled with tears.

—

Everything has become different, John's behavior in contrast to his previous behavior indicating that something had fundamentally shifted in his attitude. He refused to even glance at you, never acknowledging your existence as he put all of his attention towards his wife. The attention he gave her was all the affection and care you'd desired, the sweet love and affection you yearned for. You could no longer help but feel the sting of jealously in your heart, envious of Abigail's privileged position and wishing you could be in her shoes.

You went to sit beside him, offering a small smile in a futile attempt at garnering his attention. However, he simply stood up and walked away, heading towards his shared tent with Abigail and leaving you in the chilly air alone once again. His indifference towards you only served to deepen your sadness, the tears filling up once more as the painful realization set in.

Why would you even think he would choose you?

teehee🙈🙈