Rdr2 onshots

Bounty hunter | Arthur x reader

Y/n sat on a wooden bar stool, in the midst of the Valentine saloon. She had just gotten here last night, riding from the Wapiti reservations to the livestock town in a few hours. As she held a glass of whiskey her e/c eyes observed a bounty poster for $5,000 issued by the Pinkertons.

Arthur Morgan. Y/n had heard that the outlaw was in town and just got into a drunken brawl sometime last week, severely injuring his opponent. She lifted up the glass and pressed it to her lips, tilting her head back and forcing down the liquor cringing at the taste.

Coughing slightly she looked over at the bar tender, making eye contact she raised her glass. Over the next 30 minutes he had seemingly refilled her glass at least 8 times. Y/n fiddled with the buckle of her gun belt and hiccuped. She had put away the bounty poster a few minutes ago, her vision was fairly blurred and she was certainly not in the right head space. Or an intelligent one at least.

The door of the saloon swung open, a tall man with a wide build walked in, all she could make out was a blue collared shirt with a handkerchief around his neck, topped off with a leather cow boy hat. As the man walked closer she adverted her gaze, though drunker than a sailor she still had some sense of what was socially acceptable.

The man situated himself a stool away from her, ordering plain beer. You giggled and looked over at him, "You do look like a beer type o' guy," He chuckled and gave the bartender a quarter in exchange as they slid the bottle over to him, "What gave it away?" You squinted your eyes and leaned towards him, almost falling out of your chair you gripped onto the counter for balance, giving him a double take you hummed, "The boots."

You held out your hand and added, "Ohhh the hands too," The brunette cocked his head and snickered his mind full of questions, mainly 'how drunk is she?', but he kept that to himself, "And why is that?" He asked, the inflection of his tone was amused, if the smile didn't give it away already. You slurred drunkenly, "Oh sir- a man's shoes say so much *hic* about em'!"

Y/n went on a drunken ramble, he thought it was rather adorable the way your chatter was interrupted by little hiccups, "A rich man wears pristine leather loafers- but you! You sir- *hic* are a hard workin' man, your boots are worn and your hands are calloused from all the ranchin' or fuckin' farmin or whateveryoudo," Her speech became more slurred the more she went on, after a few minutes of listening to what someone's shoes says about them he paused your rant and asked, "Miss- I have to ask, what's your name?"

You hiccuped and giggled, "Oh! A gentleman," you smiled and crossed your legs, resting your elbows on the bar, putting your chin in your hands, "Well my name is Y/n, but you can just call me y/n," You continued, your vision still a blur; you could barely make out the grin on his face, "What iz youhr nhame gud sir?" He sighed out of amusement and took a sip out of his bottle, "Oh well I'm Arthur, so far it's been a pleasure Miss y/n"

It had flown right past you, but the name Arthur did sound familiar. "Oh no no! I am no Miss Arthur- I could assure you, I'm ahlot more manly than the folk round ere," You slid off of your stool and hiccuped leaning over and stabilizing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, "Whyzon't I show ye- I bet I'm more manly than you!"

He raised an eyebrow and asked inquisitively, "And what do you bet Y/n?" You tugged him onto his feet by his hanker chief and wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing your eyes to focus and look into his, "A night in the old hotel- how's that sound?" Although he was an outlaw, women were to much for him. He could never figure out how to 'talk' to them in well-... that way. Especially when they're drunk, normally women would be interested then he'd open his mouth and it'd be over. To put it simply he was flustered, but his cheeks were already flushed from the beer or two he just drank.

Y/n smiled and giggled, removing your arms from his neck you tugged him along. "Did you bringastead ereArfur?" He looked down at you as you gripped his black handkerchief, "A horse? Yeah- he's tethered by the general store," You stumbled over the steps of the saloon and almost face planted into the mud, "Porfect -! Weshuld race em- I've ad' my horse for yearssss! I'll kick yer ass cowboy!" Arthur smiled and let out a little laugh. He rubbed his forehead letting out a sigh, it was going to be a long night. Of course he would never take up her offer on the hotel, she clearly wasn't in her right mind. But it would be wrong to set her loose on the streets of Valentine. So he played along.

Arthur grinned and headed over to the general store, "I'll grab my old boy, why don't we race to the ravine?" Y/n whistled for her horse as she followed the brunette to his stead, hers came galloping up the  road. It was hard to make out from the dimly lit streets, the only light coming from the oil lamps of buildings and the small moon hanging in the sky. The two mounted their horses and Y/n struggled to stay upright.

Arthur chuckled, "Are you ready Y/n? you look a little out of it," You hiccuped and spurred your horse, getting in front of him and trotting out of the town. "I've never felt better- I dare say that this is the best I've ever been,"

To put it kindly, Y/n did not win the race. Not even close. They were at the ravine and Y/n basically fell off her horse, brushing dirt off the knees of her pants as she stood up. You hiccuped and Arthur tilted his hat back, looking down at you, "I feel bad, you look like you've seen better da-" you stumbled over, throwing up behind your horse. Arthur immediately rushed over to you, "Hey- Y/n why don't I take you to the hotel and buy you a room? I think you should sleep off all that whiskey."

You groaned and buried your head in his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair and patted your shoulder. "I'll take that as a yes," He gently grabbed your hips and put you on his saddle in front of him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go to fast, the jaunting movement of the horses shoulders would thrash you around and probably make you throw up again.

Even though Y/n was sitting in front of him in between his arms she almost fell off at least twice. The first time all of her weight went onto his right arm, he was holding onto the lead and it had jerked the horse off the path into some bramble.

It had taken a good 40 minutes to get back to Valentine, he had basically carried you into the hotel. Getting a room he plopped you into the bed. Taking off your gun belt you rested it onto the night stand. You looked up at him as he was getting ready to leave, "Arthur..." you whined, feeling slightly nauseous, Y/n gripped onto the sleeve of his button up. "Stay- I shned to roperly ake care ofyoh inthe mourninf,"

Realizing how that sounded you elaborated, "I'lll buye yeo a nhew rifwle..." Arthur did not understand a single word of what you said, it seemed like you wanted to pay him properly for his services in the morning. Seeing how pathetic you looked, and the way you poured at him he gave in, crawling into bed. Y/n fell asleep almost immediately, Arthur following shortly after.

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Your head pounded as your eyes fluttered open, groaning you were about to sit up. But as you started to wake up you noticed your unfamiliar surroundings. A man was laying next to you. A familiar man. Your heart leapt into your throat, Arthur Morgan. You realized that your gun belt wasn't on you, turning as gently as you could as to not wake that ruthless blood thirsty man you searched for your gun belt. You felt disgusted with yourself as your mind filled with what had probably happened to you, how that outlaw had taken advantage of a drunk woman.

Leaning over you spotted your belt on the nightstand, gently pulling out your revolver you cocked back the guns hammer, you pressed the cold barrel to his forehead. His nose scrunched up and his blue eyes forcefully blinked open, "Y/n..?"

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A/n; I might make a part 2 I just don't know where to go with this