Strange Trails → Arthur Morgan x Reader Oneshots

Until the Night Turns

Summary: Arthur couldn't keep his eyes off you during Sean's return party.

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In the time of night when the oscillating red and orange ribbons of fire wavered and the abounding stars splattered across the sky flowered brightly, Arthur sat at an old wooden table, a silent witness to the ongoing party. The area was bustling with laughter and chatter, and the warm flickering glow of the campfire cast a golden hue over the scene. The tepid wind roused the trees, and the scent of freshly bloomed wildflowers was prominent in the air.

He took in the joy of his exultant family, bonded together by hope and the pursuit of a better life. The camaraderie was a temporary release from the baggage of an unimaginably difficult time they had previously experienced. Moments like this were rare for him and always bound to end in a trice, and he'd once again return to a life of bloodshed.

Arthur believed himself to be a living, breathing embodiment of a tragedy, with an intrinsic reflection of worthlessness pinned from birth and condemned to a life of misfortune. His years would pass him by, slow as cold molasses and equally bitter, but when your paths crossed, those beliefs waned, and your saccharine nature made his life sweeter.

He took a thoughtful sip from his beer, and his gaze soon fell upon you, as it did multiple times throughout the night. While gossiping with the girls or grabbing a drink for yourself, you felt his eyes on you. You didn't mind of course and rather relished in the fact that he spent his time admiring you, and you didn't let it go unnoticed as you would return the glances with the warmest of smiles.

Your presence was serene amidst the revelry, sending an unwitting grin to appear on his face. All that was familiar to him disappeared, and he placed all of his attention on you, transfixing him in that untouchable moment and capturing the image in memory.

You held Jack in your arms and swayed to the music that radiated from the gramophone nestled in the heart of the camp, watching as Dutch and Molly danced beneath the euphoric light of the argent moon tucked away behind the dusky veil of clouds.

His thoughts stemmed from a more hopeful root, and he imagined what it would be like to have a family with you—if that were in your dreams. To get away from this life and give you the one you so rightfully deserved.

Unlike Arthur, you didn't mind what kind of life you lived as long as he was by your side; that was all that mattered. Besides that, your thoughts ran similar to those of his, and as you looked at Jack's large brown eyes and tousled chestnut hair, you felt immense happiness and like a mother toward him at times. As you spun around once with Jack, a rupture of small giggles rang out from him.

By instinct, you looked ahead to meet Arthur's gaze. "I'm going to see if Uncle Arthur would like a dance, okay?"

"Okay!" He nodded, and you put him down, watching him run off toward his mother. You take in a steady breath as you strode to Arthur. His ruminations ceased at your approach.

"Would you like to dance?" Your gentle voice stirred emotions deep within him that refused to fade, and the crease between his brows had relaxed at your tone. He remembered the first time you had spoken to him, those exhaled words engraved into his wandering thoughts on that one summery day. He initially denied his love for you, stirring a thousand words unsaid in his morning coffee, letting it all dissolve at the base of his tongue, and swallowing it into inexistence.

It took a while for Arthur to accept that you made him not feel burdened by the heaviness of his polluted soul anymore, and instead made him feel like the good man he never believed he was. Never thought he could be. You saw that goodness in him, even when he couldn't see it himself, and you were the feeling of bliss that one would strive for in their lifetime.

"'Course, though I ain't much of a dancer." He finally answered, and rose from his seat, abandoning the beer he once held to take your hand–your touch was warm, and he dipped his head down to hide the faint smile that formed on the corner of his mouth.

You assured him with a simple That's alright, as you guided him beside Dutch's tent, and he captured you in the circle of his arms, with one hand resting on your lower back whilst the other interlaced with your own. Your hand rested on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, fingers slipping beneath his undone collar. You pressed your ruddy cheeks to his chest—his jacket held the scent of gun oil, rich leaves, and a hint of musk that always attracted you.

"I thought you said you weren't much of a dancer? You seem to be doing good to me."

His chuckle reverberated through his empty lungs, each rib chiming in harmony. "To you ," He emphasized. "Maybe not to others."

"That's true."

His heart was sent into a fluttering frenzy as it beat fiercely against his ribs, threatening to break them as you pressed closer. It lasted longer than a moment before you moved your head away to glance at him with perpetual admiration. The simple way you looked at him, and truly saw him like no other had made him sink into the deepest peace he had ever known. And the gleam of stars matched that of your eyes as you stared deeply into his, and the melodic trill filled your ears.

The departing footsteps of Dutch and Molly were overlooked as you both were in wonderment, swaying in each other's embrace. He spun you around once, your long flowy dress flaring beneath you. When you returned to his embrace, your eyes trailed over his features and landed at the seam of his lips. Arthur reaches for your face, his thumb brushing your lip, and all he can do is wait for that simple nod you give for him to close the gap between you.

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Your tent's flaps were closed, providing you both privacy from the outside world as the party subdued. You listened to nature's symphony take over, the small crackle of the dying fire, the winds whistling, and the song of an owl you'd sometimes hear before you fell asleep.

You had distanced yourselves from the party early, conversing with one another for most of the night. About life, the past, and each other. He preferred your company over any party, listening with much intent to your stories as you spoke with immense passion. Every other sound apart from your voice he tuned out.

When the conversation had simmered and there wasn't much else to say, you took the opportunity to finally thank him, hands folded in your lap.

"For what?"

"For dancing with me. I haven't had this much fun in... awhile." You finally looked at him after staring at your hands.

"Yeah, I know. Me too." A deep sigh escaped him, and he took your hands in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. "I wish... I could give you something better than this."

"Arthur," You moved onto his lap. "Stop that. It doesn't matter to me where we are. You're here with me. That's all." You reassured his doubts, hand cupping his cheek.

He allowed himself to look at you and softened at your gaze. The dreaminess of your pretty features allayed him. It was apparent how much you both had wanted each other at this moment as the taste of longing glimmered in your irises, and the lack of doubts and reluctance within the warm space fueled your confidence to reconnect your lips with his once more. You gently wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the ends of his hair prickle your skin.

The simple motion of Arthur laying you on your back, and drifting over you, sent a swarm of flittering butterflies within your chest. His kisses were as delicate as the shimmer of moonlight on water. He moved downward to your neck, close to your ear as he whispered how beautiful you looked tonight. His hand trailed you with need, slipping beneath your skirt, and showing you how much you truly meant to him until the night turned day.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! <3