Arthur Morgan One-Shots, Imagines, and Preferences

Colter Nights (NSFW)

Come get ya'lls smut!

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The whistle of the north mountain winds blows through the walls and into your ears. Shivering, you pull your flannel blanket tighter around you. Paired with your wool-lined leather coat, you're able to keep most of your body heat in. It's still not enough. The silence of the cabin is broken when you hear Hosea speaking on the other side of the wall.

"So what now, Dutch?" His voice carries the fatigue from the hectic week.

"We get strong, we get warm... and we wait," Dutch responds. He too sounds tired but speaks with a hopefulness. "When the storm breaks we move. But we're safe here... warm enough," he finishes.

"I guess," Hosea responds quickly.

"You sound doubtful."

"Not... doubtful, just worried," the older man says, mournfully.

"What do you think, Arthur?" His name makes your ears perk up. You were under the assumption that he was still out hunting with Charles.

"I wasn't on that boat, so hard to say," Arthur's rough voice cuts the air, "but I trust your judgment, Dutch. Always have," he states. Hearing his voice and knowing he's back safe brings a flicker of warmth back into your body.

"Thank you, son," Dutch replies to his statement while turning to Hosea, pride evident in his voice.

"We have been shot at before, Hosea. I don't feel that this is honestly anything new."

"I hope not," Hosea responds, obviously doubting the silver-tongued man.

"We had a bit of bad luck, but then the storm covered our tracks, so now we wait a bit... and we go back to Blackwater and we get our money. Or we get some more money and we keep heading west," Dutch says to him. Back to Blackwater? That's the last place I want to be, you think to yourself.

"But we're heading east," Hosea says, attempting to get the idea into Dutch's head.

"For now... for now," Dutch tells him, a plan brewing in his mind. "We got this, we're safe," he says, voice a little stronger now. A chair creaks followed by the shuffling of footsteps, barely audible over the crackle of the fireplace. "We best sleep away this horrid weather." The sound of footsteps grows slightly louder making you assume they are all standing now.

"Get some rest, son," Dutch says to Arthur.

"Of course, Dutch," Arthur replies before you hear feet shuffling around the cabin. The front door opens and closes as Hosea leaves for the other cabin. The wall rattles slightly as Dutch enters his room and closes the door.

The old, wooden door scrapes against the door as it opens. The windows rattle as it's closed. "Y/n," Arthur says.

"Hmm," you reply quietly.

"You're still awake, Darlin'? Thought you'd be asleep by now," he says, sounding slightly concerned after you told him you didn't feel well earlier that day.

"S'too damn cold to sleep," you say, still shivering. Metal clinks as Arthur unbuckles his gun belt and sets it on the rickety, wooden dresser in the corner.

"I know," he sighs, sliding into bed next to you. You throw the corner of the blanket over his shoulder and he pulls it to wrap it around the both of you. Neither of you bother to take anything off other than your belts to keep yourselves warm.

"I missed you," he says, sighing a hot breath into your neck. His strong arms hold you tighter as he spoons you from behind.

"I missed you too," you reply, feeling his lips press against the crook of your neck.