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Cowboy!Arthur Morgan x wife!reader

Note: was bored and thought this up, it’s inspired by Yellowstone bc I just love all the moments in that show catered around cattle ranching and setting up camp to watch over them (it’s the life I want 😫)

Warnings: kinda modern au, reader and Arthur have children, fluff, kids have an age gap (early teens, youngest is 4)

Enjoy xoxo

Summer time on a cattle ranch had to be one of the busiest times of the year with hundreds of heads needing to be watched, calves still clinging to their mother’s sides, and predators on the move. The cowboys would move the herd to different pastures during the year wherever better grass was growing, were they would be safest.

They had set up a camp to where they were going to let the cattle rest for a few days before settling them into another pasture. It was June, getting close to July and the Montana weather was not kind.

The sun had been beating down on you all day, your shirt and jeans clinging to you uncomfortably, and your youngest son had been grumpy all day. In your younger days, before you had popped out three children, you’d be the one rounding up cattle until the sun came down.

But now, you had been working around the camp. Helping fix tents, make coffee, cook breakfast in the morning, chase your youngest around while your other two were out with their father learning how to be cowboys and cowgirls.

Now that the sun had set, starting to cast a blue hue across the camp as it went down below the mountains, Arthur had finally ridden back into camp with the lowing of cattle following the clomp of horse hooves.

Clad in his chaps, a wild rag hanging around his neck, and his gloves in one hand he made his way over to you. Your hair was a frizzy mess, the top buttons of your shirt undone, and you had flour wiped on your thighs as you stood over the fire poking at a cast iron skillet full of biscuits.

“How much longer until they’re done, mama?” Your youngest son, Spencer, whined at you. You sighed, raising your brows at him as you heavily sat back on a log that surrounded the fire. “Five more minutes, son.” You huffed out, sending him a little smile as you watched him stomp his little booted feet and storm off to go pour on the edge of camp.

Arthur came over, pressing a kiss to your temple before sitting down next to you. “Hi sweetheart.” He murmured as his large hand came and caressed your flour covered thigh. You gave him a long look, brows quirked up. “Hello dearest.” You greeted back with some exasperation.

Arthur chuckled, looking out to see his son pouting in the dirt. His little arms were crossed as he sat on the ground, eyes scanning over the black angus cattle. “He’s been dyin’ for these fuckin’ things for nearly two hours.” You shake your head as you stand to check on the biscuits again.

“Darlin’ that boy will eat anything you put on his plate.” Arthur said, watching as you flipped them around before sitting back down. “I know.. I know, but,” you hummed and leaned into his side.

“But then I can’t watch him eat em.” You turned your head, resting your chin on Arthur’s strong shoulder. “Can’t watch him eat em hmm?” Arthur smiled something small, glancing between you and the boy that was his spitting image. “Yeah..” you uttered, shifting your head to lay it in the crook of your husband’s neck.

His big hand came up to rub up and down your back while your hand rested on top of his thigh. Your other two came over, chaps still on and a plate of food in their hands. Your oldest, Issac, already had a biscuit from the first batch you made shoved into his mouth. Your daughter, Dakota, was yammering on about something to Hosea who followed behind them.

You and Arthur watched as Spencer stood, toddling back over to you with a little grump in his expression. He went to his dad, wrapping his arms around his neck and clinging to him. “You don’t want steak like everyone else is havin’, son?” Arthur asked Spencer as he hugged him closer. The boy just shook his head, humming his disagreement.

You stood, smiling softly as you watched the father and son. You slid on an oven mitt to take off the skillet lid and finally the biscuits were done. Nice and brown on top and fluffy. “Are they done?” Spencer squirmed out of Arthur’s hold to peer over your shoulder as you scooped the biscuits out.

“Yeah, son. They’re done.” You handed off a plate of fresh biscuits and he went off on his way. He was still grumpy, needing to eat, and went and sat on the edge of camp again. Even though his back was turned, you still smiled softly at your youngest as he blew on his food before eating it.

“You spoil him rotten.” Arthur said in a low tone in your ear. His arm came up and wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into him to he could press a kiss against your cheek. You turned your head and caught his lips, smiling as you did. “He’s my baby, I have to.” You grinned.

“You know,” Hosea spoke up as he watched your boy go back to his pouting spot to eat. “Spencer reminds me of Arthur when he was younger.”

John chuckled quietly from where he sat with Abigail, their daughter, and Jack. “Don’t be laughing too hard over there, John,” Dutch smirked as he came and sat by the fire as well. “If we’re thinking of the same memory I recall you doing the exact same thing Spencer’s doing.”

“Bessie would spend hours over the fire cooking these same biscuits.” Hosea gazed upwards briefly before focusing back on the young boy that had both hands full of half eaten biscuits. He chuckled softly then, “lord she’d get so mad at them when they’d beg her for more.”

You laughed softly and leaned into Arthur more as the others of the camp chuckled while listening to the story. “They were really good.” Arthur shrugged, huffing out a small laugh. You nudged his chest with your shoulder teasingly, “and mine aren’t?”

“They clearly are, sweetheart if our son is begging for a whole skillet to polish off by himself.” The two of you looked back over to him, the skillet only having a few more left. “Awh,” Sadie tisked from across the fire. “Don’t it make you wanna have more?” She smiled.

“Think our baby makin’ days are done.” You scrunched one side of your face. Your two teens gave you a sideways glance, making faces as they did. “Well they don’t gotta be..” Arthur pulled you closer, he wouldn’t mind having another baby.

“Okay,” Issac and Dakota shot up from their seats. “Ew. Goodbye.” They quickly went off as the camp laughed. You and Arthur laughed, leaning into one another before everyone settled down again. You sighed softly as you seen Spencer curled up on his side in the grass.

“I’ll get him.” Arthur said as the two of you stood up. You both said a quick goodnight ti everyone before making your way over to your son who was sleeping on the ground next to the cast iron skillet. It had one more biscuit inside, a small bite taken out of it. You giggled as you picked it up, eating what was left as you put the pan away.

Arthur carried Spencer to your shared tent, laying in down in the mess of blankets before covering him up. “I love you, cowboy.” You whispered. Your hand came up and removed his cowboy hat from his head before kissing him.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He whispered against your lips, pulling you in closer by your hips. “After all this is over,” he muttered, still kissing you. “If you want another baby,” he pressed a long kiss to your mouth. “Then I’ll give that to ya.” He pulled back, watching your eyes gleam in the darkness of the tent.

“I think our family’s perfect just the way it is, Arthur.” You ran your knuckles gently over his cheek, against the scruff growing on his jaw. He nodded, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “I think so too.”

“But,” you looked up and smirked. “If it happens, I won’t be too discouraged either.” You gazed up at him, a teasing tone leaving you. He chuckled and caught your mouth for one more kiss.

That night the both of you fell asleep with your youngest curled up between you. His little head resting on your chest, Arthur’s muscular arm wrapped around you and your son to tug you a little closer. You watched Spencer and Arthur for a little while before falling asleep yourself, taking in the perfect image even in the darkness of the tent.

Cattle drives like this were your favorite time of the year, even if you had to spend hours baking those darn biscuits.