Summary: Sometimes having a younger sibling is a pain in the ass.
Warning: IT'S ARTHUR MORGAN UHUK! platonic, reader is Arthur's little sister, stealing a hat, tree, Kieran mentioned, reader mocking Arthur, Arthur is not sixty-five,
As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The sun was dipping low behind the trees, throwing long shadows across camp. Arthur had just come back from a long ride, dust coating his boots and the familiar weight of his father's old hat sitting snug on his head.
He dismounted, grumbling something under his breath about Micah's loudmouth antics and stretched his back, only to find you lounging on a rock nearby, looking way too innocent.
"You look like death rode you twice and forgot to spit you out," you smirked, tossing a twig at him.
Arthur grunted. "Glad to see you still ain't learned how to shut that mouth."
But the moment he turned around to unsaddle his horse, it happened.
FWOOSH.
Something whooshed past him. A gust of wind? A ghost? No—
He spun around.
His hat. Was gone.
And you were halfway across camp, grinning like a damn devil, holding the precious thing over your head.
"Y/N!!" Arthur roared.
"WHAT?" you called back, already bolting for the tree line like a jackrabbit on fire.
"That ain't just a hat! That's Pa's—!" he started, but you were gone, laughter echoing through the trees.
Arthur gave chase, boots pounding dirt and curses flying like bullets.
"I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU GIVE THAT BACK—!"
"You're so slow, old man!" you cackled, dodging behind a tree. "Maybe the hat wants someone younger, faster—"
"I WILL END YOU."
You darted up a low-branched oak tree, the hat clutched in one hand as you scrambled to the top like you'd done it a hundred times as kids. Once you found the perfect branch, you stuck the hat on a forked limb, dangling like a prize just out of reach, then sat back, legs swinging.
Arthur skidded to a stop below, red in the face and fuming.
"I hate you," he panted, hands on his hips.
"You love me."
"You're lucky I ain't shot you yet."
"That'd be mighty ungrateful, after I gave your boring day a little excitement."
Arthur groaned and began climbing the tree, mumbling about "damn siblings" and "hat-thieving goblins." You leaned down with a smirk.
"Careful, old man," you called teasingly. "Don't throw out your hip."
"Old man? I ain't even sixty-five!"
"Could've fooled me the way you wheezed back there."
He finally reached the branch and snatched the hat from where it dangled, clutching it like it was gold.
Then he paused.
You raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You know what?" he said calmly.
You blinked. "What?"
He suddenly lunged at you.
"ARTHUR, NO—!"
Too late.
He tackled you sideways, both of you crashing into the leaves and branches as you half-laughed, half-screamed. When you landed on the ground with a dull thud, Arthur stood over you, brushing off his coat, hat safely back on his head.
You groaned. "You're the worst."
"And you're a pain in the ass," he said, but a fond smile tugged at his lips.
You grinned up at him, dirt in your hair, scratches on your arms, but proud. "Still worth it."
Arthur tipped his hat. "Try that again, and I'll tie you to the nearest trees like Kieran."
You stuck out your tongue.
And he definitely ruffled your hair on the walk back to camp.
YOU ARE READING
ᴍᴜʟᴛɪғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ | ᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴡ ғɪᴄs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ɴᴏᴛᴇs
FanfictionWell, it's a group of one shots, preferences and imagines that I wrote on Tumblr and notes before so I'll post them here so that my work won't be lost if I can't open my Tumblr or i accidentally delete my notes. So here you go! Warning: Warnings are...
