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Intruder (John×Reader)

John Marston × Gender-neutral Reader

A/N: We're gonna pretend that Abigail and John aren't together in this

About: After John gets attacked by wolves he finds a cabin in the middle of the snowstorm and takes cover there, but gets help from the owner of the cabin after meeting them.

850 Words

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John limped through the snow, blood streaming down his face. He saw a small cabin and decided it was a good place to take cover. It looked recently inhabited but John didn't care. He just wanted to get out of this damned snow.

As soon as John was inside the cabin, he started searching for some medical supplies and alcohol. He'd downed nearly half a bottle of whiskey when he finally found something he could patch himself up with.

You on the other hand were out in this fucking storm trying to get back to your cabin. You'd just gotten to your cabin when you heard something, that sounded like glass breaking, inside. You upholstered your gun, ready for the worst.

You entered your cabin expecting some criminal ready to shoot you down just for the little money you had, but you were met with an injured man trying to wrap his leg in gauze. You instinctively aimed your gun at John and waited for him to explain himself.

"W-wait! Don't shoot!" John said while putting his hands up in surrender and dropping the gauze. You took a moment to look him over. He had blood all over him. It looked like someone had killed him." I was attacked by a shit ton of wolves and just want to get patched up and return to my people." He said, cautiously and slowly lowering his hands while eyeing your gun.

"And how do I know you ain't telling me a lie?" You questioned the bleeding man. He stayed silent and looked at you with a pleading look. "Fine." You said, giving in. John looked sorta hopeful only for a moment.

You holstered your gun and walked over to John, still cautious of the unknown man. You kneeled in front of John, inspecting his wounds. It definitely looked like a wolf attack. He looked pretty fucked.

"You said you have people to go to?" You asked, looking up at him now, inspecting the wound on his face.

"Yea, why?" John responded with another question, now studying your face.

"We'll need to take you back to them to fix up the scratches on your face properly but I should be able to take care of it for now." You said, focusing on his leg and grabbing the gauze that he dropped earlier.

You wrapped his leg up to the best of your ability. You weren't a doctor by any means but over the years you've learned some stuff. You moved from his leg and focused on the deep scratches on his face. You tried your best not to hurt him but it was sorta difficult.

Now that he was all wrapped up and everything was taken care of, you needed to get him back to his people. somehow. John said he had gotten split up from his people, but didn't say how. But when you were on your way back to your cabin you had seen that there were people now at the abandoned mining camp. You'd bet that these people were who John was talking about.

Those people at the mining camp were your best bet so you decided that you were just going to take John there.

You and John were now on the trail heading towards the mining camp. You honestly felt bad for your horse, having to carry two people through a snowstorm just seemed a little hard to you.

"I never got your name." you said to John, who was riding on the back of your horse. "I'm Y/N L/N." You told him.

"John, John Marston." He told you, hoping that you didn't know who he was or what crimes he's committed.

"We're almost there Mr.Marston." You said, seeing the old mining camp come into view.

As soon as you were even near the camp you had a gun pointed at you and a young man was calling for the others.

"Lenny, put your god damn gun down." John said, making himself noticed by everyone.

"Welcome back son." An older man with black hair, who you presumed was the leader, said loudly from a doorway. "And who is this?." He asked looking at you with a charming smile. Two men came to help John down from your horse, one was a man with dirty blonde hair and the other was an older man who looked to be in his 50s or 60s

"Careful he's pretty fucked up." You said when John cursed in pain.

"Thank you for helping that idiot, Ms/Mr?" The black-haired man said, holding his hand out.

"L/N, Y/N L/N." You said taking his hand and shaking it, earning a smile from him. You hitched your horse to a hitching post and got off of it and gave them a little pat.

"Dutch Van Der Linde." The man said

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