ᴍᴜʟᴛɪғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ | ᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴡ ғɪᴄs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ɴᴏᴛᴇs

Downhill From Here (Arthur Morgan x male! reader)

Summary: What appeared to be a very intense chase turned something unexpected... I guess

Warning: BOUNTY HUNTER ARTHUR Y'ALL,  outlaw male reader, enemis to lovers troops,

based on this request, tq!

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. ───

Somewhere in New Hanover, 1899

You were damn good at running.

One of the fastest on horseback in the territory, clever with distractions, smarter than most bounty hunters gave you credit for. You knew every creek crossing, every blind trail, and every trick in the book.

All of which should've been enough — would've been enough — if your bounty hadn't been picked up by Arthur goddamn Morgan.

You heard him before you saw him.
That low, gruff, almost amused voice cutting through the wind as your horse tore through the trees:

"Y/n. Stop runnin'."

You glanced behind you, heart hammering, seeing that godforsaken hat and dead-serious glare.

"Make me, you sanctimonious bastard!"

Then you kicked your horse harder.

Arthur cursed, spurred his own mount, and the chase really began.

Branches whipped at your arms, mud splattered up your boots, and birds scattered from the treetops as you flew through the underbrush. Every time you cut a corner, Arthur was right there — relentless, focused, and clearly enjoying this more than he had any right to.

"Thought you bounty boys were supposed to sneak up on people," you yelled.

"I was sneakin'," he called back, somehow gaining. "You're just too damn loud!"

"Your face is loud!"

"...That doesn't even make sense!"

You took a hard turn towards a slope, grinning like a devil. Arthur followed.

Big mistake.

You jumped off your horse mid-run, letting it continue down the safer side. Arthur did the same.

And then?

Then your foot caught a root.

And you went down.

“Shitshitshit—!”

You rolled ass over elbows through brush and mud, yelling the whole way down the steep, rocky slope.

Half a second later, you heard, "Goddammit—" followed by a very satisfying thump and Arthur Morgan also tumbling down after you.

Two curses. One shot. And the most awkward game of outlaw dominoes imaginable.

By the time you landed at the bottom, legs tangled, clothes filthy, a twig in your mouth, and Arthur's hat somehow on your head — the two of you just laid there. Panting.

And then you started laughing.

Like a lunatic.

Arthur groaned beside you. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Get in line," you wheezed, wiping mud off your face. "You alright, bounty boy?"

He turned his head towards you, face streaked with dirt and blood and leaves in his hair.

"You're under arrest."

You raised an eyebrow. "While you're lying on top of me?"

Arthur blinked. Realized he was, in fact, half-sprawled over you, chest to chest.

You smirked. "If I knew gettin' caught was this fun, I might've stopped runnin' sooner."

Arthur rolled off you with a grunt, brushing dirt off his coat. "You're a goddamn menace."

"You're cute when you're grumpy."

He paused. Looked at you sideways. And, despite himself... he smiled.

Just a little.

You were tied — but not tightly — at the wrists. Arthur led you through the woods on foot, both horses lost somewhere back uphill.

"You ever stop flirtin' long enough to sit still in a jail cell?"

"You ever stop pretendin' you ain't enjoyin' it?"

He said nothing.

But you caught the corner of his mouth twitch.