RHIS IS SO SILLYY!!! - Blog Posts

Arthur Morgan x Reader (fluff)

A Sip of Mayhem

Description: Arthur captures a bounty who'd drug his customers by offering them “juice” just to rob them blind. He confiscated a bottle to show the sheriff, but forgot it in his satchel, deciding to deal with it the next day. That night, when he witnesses your stumbling figure practically catcall him from across camp and found the bottle on his desk, empty, he faces a lot of trouble getting you to settle down. ⚠️Warnings: reader is basically drunk, tries to jump into a stream, mentions of religious upbringing, being orphaned. this aint dark, just stupid and funny `(*>﹏<*)′

The small jeweled bottle of strange liquid sat on Arthurs desk, glowing softly under the moonlight. He’d meant to take it to the sheriff first thing in the morning after catching a bounty–a man who’d drug his customers and rob them blind, but after the long ride back to camp, his legs had screamed at him to sit down for a while, and he’d forgotten all about it.

Now, with the party in full swing celebrating Sean’s return to Horseshoe overlook, the bottle was the last thing on his mind. Laughter and the sound of a badly played fiddle filled the air as Sean drunkenly exaggerated some story during his time as a captive, waving a bottle of whiskey around like it was a prop in a stage play.

Arthur wasn’t much for parties, so he sat back in his chair, rolling a cigarette and letting the chaos unfold. He was half expecting you to join him, usually not one to enjoy loud gatherings or drinking yourself. He remembered you told him that your folks were real religious-like prior to their passing, before you had stumbled upon the gang of outlaws as a child. He enjoyed those quiet talks with you. He chuckled a little, outlawing was one thing, but drinking was where you crossed the line. That was until he heard your voice cut through the camp, slurred and way too loud.

“Well! aren’tchu a fiiine cowboy,” you practically purred from across camp.

Arthur’s head snapped up.

You stood there, dressed in your casual attire, a comfortable blouse and a long skirt. But you were unusually swaying like the wind was about to knock you over, a loopy grin plastered on your face. Your normally calm nature was nowhere to be found, gone, vanished, replaced by whatever nonsense had taken hold of you. 

You pointed at him dramatically, eyes nearly crossing,

“Arthur Morgannn,” you drawled, dragging out his name like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “You got nice-“ you hiccuped, clutching your chest for a moment, “nice hands, made for holdin’ a lady, you know that?” You slurred as you stumbled toward him. 

Arthur’s cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth as his face reddened under the brim of his hat. “What the hell-”

Dutch, who had been dancing nearby with Molly, chuckled, “Now that ain’t normal.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. It was then he noticed you hiccup again, looking oddly glassy-eyed. It didn’t take a genius to realize something was wrong. Then, like a switch flipping in his brain, he remembered.

The bottle.

It was on his desk, but opened, empty.

“Aw, hell,” Arthur groaned. He shot up from his chair and started toward you. “You didn’t—tell me you didn’t drink somethin’ off my desk.”

You hiccuped again and winced like he’d just accused you of murder, “Well..I did!” 

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and you spoke again, “it was a pretty lookin juice, Arthur! You’ gonna tell me juice is a crime now?-“

“Oh it weren’t no juice, woman!” Arthur snapped. 

“Well, what was in it?” Hosea, who had heard the ordeal nearby, appeared at his side, eyeing you with a suspicious yet concerned look. 

“It was a drug from a bounty! One I meant to turn into the sheriffs…” he trailed off, feeling foolish for the slip up.  

Hosea let out a long-suffering sigh beside him. “Great. She can’t even handle a cup of coffee without buzzing, what the hell’s a spiked drink gonna do to her?” 

“I don’t know,” Arthur muttered, reaching for you, but you took a dramatic step back, swaying. 

“Noooo, no, no,” you wagged your finger at him, “I don’t need your help.”

Arthur groaned before holding you by the shoulders and looking into your dilated pupils “Now, darlin’,” 

“Yeah?” Your gaze drifts here and there, seeing the world bend him in a funny way, before his finger snaps in front of you,

“You’re drunk off your ass, so you gotta let me and Hosea sit you down and-”

“Drunk?!” You gasped again, stumbling back from his hold. “I am not!”

You absolutely were.

“I do not-I don’t drink!”  You shout.

Then, before they could grab you, you turned tail and bolted.

Your brain was working at half-speed. Or maybe it was working at double speed. Who knew? Who cared?

All you knew was that Arthur was chasing you, and that was hilarious.

“You ain’t gonna catch me!” you whooped, dodging around the campfire, startling Uncle so bad he nearly fell off his log, 

“The hell’s wrong with you?” you heard the old man yelp, “knockin me round knowin’ i got lumbago-”

Arthur swore behind you. “Damn it— get back here girl!”

You tire out eventually, surrendering for a bit, “Fine! Fine I’ll sit down” you gasp catching your breath. 

“You better,” Arthur warned.

You plop down near Sean and Karen, looking back at Arthur who stands there half expecting you to bolt off again. 

Sean was running his mouth about something-something dramatic, no doubt. His accent was thick, his hands flying everywhere, and for some reason, that was hilarious too!

You scoot closer beside him,

“Ah, yes,” you said in a mock Irish accent, your voice dropping to a ridiculous brogue, “and then I took on ten men at once with only me fists and me Macguire bullocks!”

Sean blinked at you. “What the-”

“And I won the day for you lady!” you continued, grinning, wagging a finger in Karen’s face.

Sean’s face scrunched up. “Are you mockin’ me, lass?”

You gasped, “Mocking? I’d never!”

Sean turned to Karen, who was already laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “Is that what I sound like?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Exactly,” she wheezed.

Arthur called out for you, but you were already on the move again, stumbling toward where Abigail, Tilly, and Mary-beth sat at a bed roll a few feet away.

You plopped yourself down between Mary-Beth and Tilly, sighing deeply, 

“Ladies,” you slurred, looking utterly exhausted.

They turned to you, amused.

Abigail chuckled seeing the obvious drunken flush in your face. “Well, if it ain’t our resident good girl. Thought you didn’t drink?”

“I don’t,” you huffed. “I was tricked. Hoodwinked.” You sighed dramatically, placing a hand on Mary-Beth’s knee before laying down entirely and resting your buzzing head in her lap.

“And now there’s some…admittedly, handsome fella, chasin’ me!” You whine with furrowed brows, stuffing your face into Mary-Beth’s torso.

Mary-Beth gasped, playing along. “Handsome fella? Who?”

You picked your head up a little too quickly, feeling the world spin a little. 

You looked around wildly, seeing Arthur linger a few feet away before whispering “Arthur.” 

The women exchanged a look before breaking into exaggerated gasps.

“No!” Tilly gasped, “that ruthless outlaw out to get you?” 

You nodded solemnly, “Yes ma'am.”

Abigail shot a look over your shoulder, and you turned, following her gaze, right to Arthur, who still stood with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes but, notably, fighting back a blush.

You pointed at him. “See? There he is.”

Mary Beth leaned in conspiratorially. “What’s he gonna do when he catches you?”

You considered it for a moment before your gaze caught the pistol tucked into Arthurs holster. Gasping, you felt a wave of fear overcome you, “Probably shoot me!”

“I wish,” Arthur scoffed, before leaning down to your level “Alright, time to go.”

He grabbed your arm gently, but you yelped and recoiled, flinging yourself back into Mary-Beth’s arms, hiding your face as if the boogie man was right there in front of you

 “See? He’s grabbin’ me!”

Arthur sighed, ripping you away from the girls and holding you up, “Pardon me ladies, just-gotta get this one to rest.”

But you were already wriggling out of his grasp. 

Nope. No way. You weren’t about to let him take you away like some unruly sack of potatoes. 

You were free. You were fast. You were-

“Gonna jump in a river!” you declared proudly, running full speed away from the camp and toward the small stream near camp.

“The hell you are!” Arthur hollered running after you, grabbing the attention of John who was keeping watch of camp. 

“The hell's wrong with her?” He asked Arthur, gesturing to you running off. 

“Long story,” Arthur groaned, before motioning John to help him out. 

You giggled maniacally as you turned back to see two fuzzy figures chase after you, “Try ‘n’ stop me you demons!”

“How the hell is she faster drunk?” John yelled through a strained breath.  

“I don’t know,” Arthur replied, darting through the foliage leading up to the river.  

Finally you reached it, a stream but it wasn’t just any stream, it was a darker blue with speckled stars and clouds stirring and swirling below it.

A perfect portal to jump through and explore, maybe it was the gates to heaven itself! 

You giggled, 

Who would’ve thought paradise was out here in the middle of nowhere? Were your parents there? 

You wondered if they were looking at a similar stream from the other side, waiting for you. 

Maybe they’d lecture you for accidentally drinking…and robbing…and killing…and stealing.

Well, there’s only one way to find out-

Right before you could fling yourself into the water, a pair of firm arms caught you from behind. The world really did turn upside down as Arthur lifted you right off your feet and tossed you over a shoulder.

“Agh! Put me down!” You flail wildly.

“This is for your own good” Arthur drawled, adjusting you like you weighed nothing.

John scoffed, flicking your forehead as he trailed behind, “Now who gave you a drink?” he asked incredulously. 

“Arthur.” 

The two escorted you back toward camp, your limbs flailing the whole way, mouth conjuring up the most unique insults directed at the two as you could. 

When you tried to grab John’s rifle, he leaned away quickly, “You better watch your drunk self.” 

“I ain’t drunk,” you insisted. “I’m just—” 

A hiccup cut you off and Arthur finally set you down. You staggered violently, grasping onto Arthur’s vest as John held out his hands in case you fell. 

Hosea met the three of you, arms crossed, looking more amused than anything. 

“Well?” he asked.

Arthur scoffed, motioning to you, “Crazy girl was about to drown herself.”

Hosea smirked. “So, what’s the plan? Tie her up like a runaway calf?”

“I ain’t a calf!” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nah. Just gotta wait it out, get her to bed I guess.”

Hosea nodded and John huffed,

 “Good luck with that.” 

“Now,” Arthur turned to you and shook his head with a smirk, “don’t go drinking any more of my…” 

He paused, not wanting you to go off on a rampage about not having drunk alcohol, “Juice no’ more, you hear me woman?” 

You sulk a little and mutter, “Fine.” 

“Good, you don’t need any more of that,” John rolled his eyes as he walked off, “already a damn smart mouth when you’re sober.” 

“Come on now y/n, let’s get some rest, alright?” Hosea said, gently guiding you. 

“So, the ‘handsome cowboy’ did save her?” Dutch chuckled from where he stood outside his tent, smoking a cigar as he watched Hosea coax you into your tent. 

Arthur rolled his eyes, but as he turned away, he flushed a little as he recalled your drunk flirting. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he was amused by your flirtatious slip ups. 

But then his mind went back to you almost lunging into the stream.  

He is never going bounty hunting again.