Wait. {Arthur Morgan x Reader}

Just Not Right

Arthur seemed almost too keen on the idea of robbing William.

You rode on the back of The Count to what you once called home, casting glances over your shoulder at Micah and Arthur.

Arthur's face moved slowly as you approached the Elizabethan styled house. It seemed as though he was taking in the surroundings more than anyone else. He grinned and it was like the temperature cooled for a moment.

You leap off of The Count and shot a glance at Dutch, "Give 'em that old Dutch charm everyone goes on about." You teased and turned your eyes to Arthur, "Check the barn. We should be able to get somethin' for the horses."

He gives a quick nod and takes off his satchel, tossing it to you. "You're gonna need somethin' to put that money in." He says and gestures his horse towards the barn behind the house. For him, this robbery was simple greed and malice, a form of revenge served on a platter of ice.

Dutch hoists himself down beside Micah, "Once you two get him on the hook I'll slip in the back." You say before walking to the side of the house, pressing your back against the hard brick wall as Dutch and Micah approach the front door.

With only two knocks, William opens the door.

Dutch pulls his lips into a warm smile and with that mesmerizing gravely voice of his he says, "Good-evening sir. My name is Hoagy Macintosh, and this here's my partner Samuel Patrick McMurphy." He offers his hand to William who takes it cautiously but shakes it kindly. "We was wondering if we could spare a moment of your time."

"Good day gentlemen," William takes his hand from Dutch and extends it to Micah who holds onto it with a tight grip, not shaking it. He pulls his hand away from Micah's, "William Luck." He looks between his hand and Micah before looking to Dutch once more, "What can I help you with?"

Micah pulls at his belt, "We're not quite sure yet."

Before William gets the chance to question Micah, Dutch intervenes. "Mr. Luck, we were originally a pair of fools selling furs but now we sell all sorts. Lumber, leather, even maple syrup." Dutch emphasizes his words as his lips pull into an even bigger smile while William chuckles.

"Don't forget the moonshine," Micah chimes in.

William leans on the arch of the door, "Can't ever forget the moonshine." He says and searches for a cigar in his pocket, putting it to his lips.

Dutch almost instinctively pulls out a match from his pocket and runs it along the sole of his shoe, lighting Williams cigar. "Well, sir, my partner and I represent twenty-five- who am I kiddin', twenty-seven percent of all trade heading south of Quebec into the U.S."

William takes a huff from his cigarette and lifts his brows, "Is that so?"

"It is." Micah replies bluntly.