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#Susan grimshaw x reader
cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months
Note
Ik you said resquests are close but my oh my, I'd love to see your relationship/sex hcs for the GIRLS
Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, Abigail, Molly, MAYBE EVEN MRS.GRIMSHAW IF UR FEELING QUIRKY
Relationship/Sex HC For VDL Gang Girls
Thank you anon for requesting something with the girls. Also I didn't include Sadie bc I wrote for her already previously in another post
Warnings: smut
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Mary-Beth Gaskill
Very affectionate and loves showing you off
Lowkey writes short romance stories about the two of you but uses different names
Loves asking for your opinion on her outfits
Very shy with her writing but allows you to read em
Tries to recreate scenes the romance novels she reads with you
Plays with your hair and tries to style it for you
I can imagine her making flower crowns
Is so lovestruck, she definitely believes y'all are together FOR LIFE
NSFW
I just know she reads smut in her books
She'd probably ask to try out a few of the things she reads about
Comes off as docile or vanilla but would be surprisingly kinky, huge expiramentalist
Bottoms for sure
Would unintentionally grind into your face or shove you in while eating her out
High pitched moans or gentle mewls
Squirms and moves around a lot, just cannot sit still for the life of her
Karen Jones
She'll put on a tougher front but she needs a lot of reassurance
Very sweet in private
Gets flustered with PDA but still does it with you
Loves it when you hold one another closely especially around the camp fire
She'd become very vulnerable with you
Especially when she's drunk
She'd feel as though you're the only person who can see the real her, and that just makes her feel even more in love
When she's unable to take care of herself you do her hair for her
Asks to dance with you randomly
NSFW
As we saw in-game, cries during sex
Feels extremely vulnerable during the act, but instead of sadness it's more of an overwhelming feeling of love that brings her to tears
Super clingy, holds you close during
Wants to stimulate every sense, bascially smothering you
Loves kissing all up and down eachother's bodies while fondling and just holding
Also enjoys hand holding during sex
Likes to start off gentle but things get progressively wilder
Tilly Jackson
She's a playful, yet altruistic lover
Puts you before herself all the time
She could be bleeding out while you have a papercut and she'll insist they tend to you first
Constantly fixes things for you or just generally takes care of things just so you don't have to do them yourself
I hc that whenever she falls asleep on you she drools A LOT
Because she gets really relaxed
Likes sitting along rivers and lakes with you and feeding ducks or skipping rocks
Super short so she's gotta go on her tiptoes to kiss you; constantly cranes her neck to look at you, even gets taller boots
NSFW
Like in other aspects of your relationship, a giver
She knows just what you want, and is more than happy to provide
I feel like she'd be real skilled with her tongue and hands as a result, skill born out of practice
Kinda likes riskier sex so she'll opt for more scandalous locations or situations
Y'all could be doing chores together and the next thing y'know y'all are sneaking off behind a nearby tree
I feel like she'd top, but she's down to switch
Abigail Roberts
She's a good, honest woman
And she's got standards for her lover
Constantly has your back, and is very patient with you as you two grow with eachother
Constantly encourages said growth and improvement in oneself
Loves seeing you put effort into improvement or work!
She just wants a calm, stable life, so if you're able to provide that for her, even if little by little, she'll be happy
Very affectionate with you, one of her favorite things to do is to sit down and have deep, intimate conversations with one another while chilling
Doesn't care how many or mundane dates are, as long as the effort is there
NSFW
She's got demands, and they will be heard
Loves recieving head, or being the main focus of sex as you provide for her. Will hold your head in place
Likes telling you what to do, definitely a dom hehe
Into kinkier stuff so maybe tying you up or even spanking
LIVES to see you cry or to embarass you
She'd probably make you bark for her
Will top or bottom, doesn't matter to her as long as she's taking the lead
Likes passionate sex so she takes her time with every detail, especially foreplay, rather than speeding things up
Molly O'Shea
She falls HARD
The most lovestruck, romantic girlfriend ever
Writes love poems for you
Likes it when you show eachother off
Her favorite types of dates are when the two of you go out together and try new things
Like a new restaurant, a new spot, a new show, etc
Cue that meme of one girl sitting on another's lap while she does her makeup
Yeah that's her
Loves asking for your opinion on her makeup, greatly values your opinion in general
Constantly tells you she loves you, gets sad if you dont say it back
NSFW
Will ask you to be gentle but like rough passionate sex
Moans loudly and shamelessly
Definitely a pillow princess, this is cannon
She'd communicate lots with you about what she likes and what she wants you to do
In a modern setting I feel like she'd wear lingerie or sexy outfits for you
Probably likes roleplaying
Also a huge expiramentalist! Likes trying next and exciting things, including in the bedroom
Susan Grimshaw
This woman keeps you on your toes constantly
Probably a little high strung but it's easy to tear her walls down!
Good at setting and respecting boundaries, while also reminding you of her own
Knows the time and place for affection, so when y'all are working, wants to keep it to a minimum.
But during down time, loves to dance, talk, kiss, and play games together
She's super hardworking and she loves real hard
Good at grounding you and keeping you in check
Like many things in her life, puts so much effort into the relationship and will never let you down or make you feel neglected.
NSFW
Like Abigail, has demands that will be known
Though she'll make sure to pay special attention to you as well and not just focus on herself
I feel like she'd like to be called mommy LMAO
Loves taking care of you and the name during sex would definitely do things for her
She has lots of experience so you'll always recieve the most mindblowing orgasms
SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE'S DOING AND SHE KNOWS WHAT WOMEN WANT
Has like a mental map of your entire body imprinted into her mind at this point
Also hands, I feel like she'd be into anything hands
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spongeyspot · 5 months
Text
Red Dead Redemption Masterlist
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Tags: [Smut 🔥] ; [Angst 🩹] ; [Fluff 🧸] ; [Dark Themes 🖤]
Arthur Morgan
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
1890s!Arthur in the Modern World HCs (Headcanons) (GN! Reader)
John Marston
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
General Modern Hcs (Headcanons)
Javier Escuella
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
General Modern HCs (Headcanons)
Charles Smith
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Lenny Summers
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Dutch Van Der Linde
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Micah Bell
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Sean Macguire
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
General Modern HCs (Headcanons)
Hosea Matthews
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Bill Williamson
Nothing yet!
Kieran Duffy
Nothing yet!
Eagle Flies
Nothing yet!
Mary Beth Gaskill
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Abigail Roberts
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Sadie Adler
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Tilly Jackson
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Karen Jones
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Molly O'Shea
Toxic Traits/ Red Flags HCs (Headcanons) (Fem! Reader)
Run Away With Me (Fem! Reader) 🧸
Poly Pairings
SWF/NSFW Poly Relationship HCs 🔥🧸
(John Marston/Fem!Reader/Abigail Marston)
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red-dead-bisexual · 1 month
Text
If I was y/n I would be going for Miss Grimshaw because I bet nobody would be seeing it coming. Not even Susan herself. Like she'd be annoying me about not working and slugging around and I'd hit her with a heartfelt confession.
But honestly she probably wouldn't be into that. Would kick me out of camp even.
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hihomeghere · 2 months
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Fishing in the dark | Arthur Morgan / Reader
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Word Count : 1.3k (a little guy) Summary : You and Arthur have a private evening away from camp on the Dakota River. Warnings/tags : Cursing, unprotected piv, talk of nudity (both male and female), cursing, reader can swim, s3x in the river, established relationship, set in chapter 3
The Dakota River was now your favorite place to be at sunset. The cool breeze coming off the sparkling water, your body cushioned by the bed of grass. The way the setting sun cast a golden light over everything it touched.
Getting away from the gang for a while had been Arthur’s greatest idea yet. After all that mess in Valentine had led you to Clemens point. Sat on the east coast of Flat Iron lake, near the town of Rhodes. Getting eaten alive by mosquitos while the heat of the Scarlett Meadows sun beat down on you.
And although you thought maybe a room in Rhodes would have been a better way to keep each other company, you couldn’t beat this view.
Arthur stood on the shore, fishing pole in hand. His tall silhouette dark against the golden light, his shadow growing longer on the rocks. What a sight, every subtle flick of his wrist, his bicep tensing and he pulled on the pole. You didn’t even know why he was still fishing so late. He had already caught dinner, which you had prepared over a small fire. While along the shore you had picked some burdock root and common bulrush for camp, knowing that Miss Grimshaw could find some use for the plants. At long last the sun fell below the horizon, a sliver of burnt amber spreading across the sky before being enveloped by a dark blue. The moon slowly rose above you. A beautiful yellow spotlight peeking through the trees.
Arthur stood, still as a statue, as though he was carved of marble. A wicked thought entered your head, slowly you moved to unlace your boots. Pulling them off until you could dig your toes into the grassy floor beneath you. Then you untied the strings to your skirt. Letting the fabric fall, along with your shirt. Leaving you standing in only your chemise, and it wasn’t long before that was discarded as well.
Arthur had heard the slight rustling of fabric behind him, but he was honestly too preoccupied with the pole in his hands. Enjoying the quiet serenity of the river. That was until you ran butt ass naked into it.
“Darlin!” He yelled his eyes widening in shock as your laughter joined the sound of water splashing.
“Come on cowboy!” You called submerged to your waist, your breasts above the water for any passersby to see. Maybe it wasn’t your best idea yet, the freezing water chilling your bones.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled, unfortunately amused by your actions even though he knew he shouldn’t be.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” You called back, teeth chattering by the sudden drop in temperature.
“It looks like you’re giving anyone that passes through a free peep show.” He called his hand resting on his gun belt as he not so casually adjusted himself. You stepped back further into the dark water until only your shoulders and up were visible.
“When did you become such a prude?” You chided a teasing smile on your lips.
“When someone could lay eyes on my woman.” He said laying down his pole, crossing his arms over his chest. You felt a shiver run down your spine, whether it was from his words or the cold water you couldn’t tell.
“Well get in here and claim your woman before someone else does!” You called, a shit eating grin spreading across your face.
Arthur sighed, looking down as the brim of his hat shielded most of his face from you. Your grin only grew as he unbuckled his gun belt, letting it fall to the ground. He pulled his suspenders off his broad shoulders. He shook his head, his own grin growing on his face as he began to pull off his clothes.
“You’re gonna get it girl.” He warned, his eyes taking on a dark haze. His lips pulling back into a smirk, looking down at you like prey. An electric shock of anticipation ran up your body as he finally pulled off the last layer, his cock springing up against his stomach. He stepped forward, wading into the water. “Jesus!” He yelped, a shiver running through him.
“It’s not that bad!” You called with a laugh.
“Not that-“ He shook his head, “Christ I can’t feel my toes.” He muttered swimming over to you, his arm wrapping around you pulling you close. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you held onto his shoulders
“Hey there.” You grin, watching the water droplets run down his face.
“Howdy.” He muses, you place your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat against your palm.
“Still cold?” You ask sweetly.
“Very.” He chuckles.
“I think I could warm you up.” You say biting your lip.
“Please do.” He says softly as you lean forward. Your nose bumping against his as you stare him down. He leans forward pressing his lips against yours. His tongue swiping along your lower lip as he pressed you down onto his pelvis. Clenching around nothing as his cock bumped against the nub of your clit, a soft moan leaving your throat.
“I can feel that.” You said softly, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes.
“I’m sure you can.” His chest rumbling as he chuckled. He moved his hand from your waist and reached down between your legs. The tip of his length catching against your entrance. “Think you’re wet enough?” He teases, his teeth glinting in the moonlight as he smirks.
You bite back a rebuttal as he slips inside you with ease, he swallows your gasp as his mouth covers yours. Groaning into your mouth, a deep almost primal noise. One that sends pleasure shooting through your body. You whine as he pulls out slightly, only to press your body down onto his pelvis. His cock rubbing against that spot inside you.
He knows this dance like the back of his hand, how to make you tick, more specifically how to make you scream. The hand that’s not holding your hip with a vice like grip moves up your body, his hands splayed against your stomach. Before reaching up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple.
“Arthur.” You gasp, feeling him rut against you, growling against your neck like a wild animal.
“Feel so good darlin’.” He huffs against your neck, nipping and kissing as he continues his attack on your pussy. His cock thrusting deep strokes against your walls. Your body is buzzing, your toes curling as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He can feel you flutter around him, his lips quirk up. He moves his hand down to between your legs, rubbing your clit.
You cry out, a pitiful noise as you cum around him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows knit together as your jaw hangs open. He smirks, tilting his head back as a low, shit, leaves his mouth.
His hips start to stutter as he pounds into you, trying to reach his orgasm while you’re still working through yours. He’s quick behind you, his hands holding you so close against him you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He thrusts into you one last time, a choked groan rumbling in his chest. You hold onto him as his dick twitches inside of you. Painting your insides with his seed. You smile up at him lazily, watching his face contort in pleasure.
“Shit darlin’.” He huffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly against your own. The bite of the water is no longer a thought as his warm body presses against yours.
“You warm now, cowboy?” You tease brushing your nose against this neck, pressing a kiss over his pulse point.
“Very.” He chuckles, “But I’d like to get my beautiful girl out of these waters now.” He says grabbing a handful of your ass before throwing you over his shoulder. “I ain’t done with you yet.”
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ashs-cardboard-box · 1 month
Text
Reluctant to learn
~ Van Der Linde gang/Child!Male!Reader
~ Platonic (could be read as familial)
~ 2.5k words
Request :3
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Headstrong was often a word used to describe you. Realistically, it was an understatement. You were too stubborn for your own good. Often wanting to do what you want to do, if you want to do it, without anyone to tell you otherwise. It was annoying, to say the least. Passed from person to person among camp, trying to better you for you.
It started with Hosea. He was the one to pluck you off the streets so, naturally, he figured he would be the one to be more hands on with you. You found the letters to be damn confusing, and you voiced that frustration many a time. Groaning as you slouch forward dramatically. Your head held in your hands, elbows propped up on the table in the center of camp.
“Why do I have to do thiiss..?” you drawl out with a whine, earning an exasperated sigh from Hosea sitting next to you. His bony fingers resting on the page of the book in front of you. He read the title to you, but you didn’t care enough to listen. Staring off into space time and time again.
“We’ve been over this, son. You’re gonna have’ta learn eventually. You don’t wanna be like Sean, do ya?” He chides, lifting a hand and gently coaxing your hands away from your face. Huffing as you set your hands down in your lap, pouting as you finally turn towards Hosea. Your bottom lip jutting out pitifully.
Hosea gives a breathless chuckle at your face, though burrowing the growing annoyance towards your stubborn attitude. It seemed to be a trait among most of the gang members. His fingertips rapped against the old wooden table, creating an audible, repetitive tap. His brown eyes darted over the first page of the leatherbound book in thought. The page you seemed to struggle to read.
“Here,” he says curtly. Gently closing the book and lifting it from the table, setting it down in your lap. Not taking ‘no’ as an answer, evident by him keeping his hand on the cover until you accept. “Take it to Dutch and Molly. Maybe they’ll have better luck.”
You roll your eyes before wrapping your fingers around the book. Looking down at it in your lap and suddenly getting an idea. Grinning sweetly as you look back up at Hosea with a nod, causing him to quirk an eyebrow in suspicion. You get up from your seat next to Hosea, book in hand, and head over to Dutch’s tent.
As soon as you were out of Hosea’s line of sight, you drop the book in the dirt and run off in the opposite direction of Dutch’s tent. Heading down to your favorite tree along the outskirts of camp, clambering up it. Unfortunately, what you failed to account for, was everyone else who might’ve seen you.
So, when you saw Arthur sauntering up to you, book in hand, you were surprised. It wasn’t a secret you were struggling with reading. Arthur didn’t even have to say anything. Lifting his free hand up towards you and quirking his finger in a “come hither” motion, beckoning you down from your branch.
“Nuh uh,” you defy with a shake of your head. Your feet swinging back and forth idly, your hands gripped firmly along the bark to prevent from falling off. “Don’t wanna read..” you grumble. Arthur sighs with a shake of his head, taking a step closer to the trunk of the tree.
“C’mon, kiddo. You can’t stay up there forever y’know.” He looks up at you calmly, having much more patience towards you than anyone else amongst camp..save for Lenny. You know he’s right, but you wouldn’t actually admit that. Instead, you reluctantly slide down the branch. Hanging from it by your hands until dropping down with a small thud. Standing back up and turning around to look at Arthur with another pout, earning a light chuckle from him, rumbling deep in his chest.
“Believe it or not,” he starts, tugging the denim of his jeans up his thighs as he takes a seat at the base of the tree. Sighing as he rests his back against it, patting the grass next to him with his free hand. You accept the invitation and slowly sit down next to him, your hands resting on your bruised knees.
“I taught Marston to read when he was ‘bout your age. Just joined the gang, thirteen.. fourteen.. rowdy, loud-mouthed..” Arthur trails off with a fond chuckle, followed by a small shake of his head. Wrapping an arm around your waist and gently tugging you into his lap, setting the book down into your own. You had known Arthur and John grew up together in the camp due to Dutch and Hosea, but you hadn’t known that. Arthur taps his finger atop the cover of the book, drawing your attention down to the title.
“Y’know what sounds the letters make, right?” He asks gently, looking over your shoulder towards you in his lap. His broad chest pressed against your back. It felt like he was treating you like little Jack, to which you giggle with a nod.
“Good boy. Now, can you put the sounds together for this first word?” He taps the book cover once again, tracing over the title, carved into the leather. Your eyes followed the tip of his finger before down to the unknown shapes below. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, already beginning to feel frustrated.
“Sound it out, kid. What sound does ‘T’ make?” Arthur encourages warmly. To which you sound a small ‘tuh’. Then he moves onto an ‘H’ with his finger along the title, exhaling sharply in an ‘H’ sound. Pointing towards an ‘E’ and grinning towards you, seeming to have a lot of faith in your advancements.
“E?” you relay with uncertainty, glancing over your shoulder towards him. Arthur hums a small “mhm” in confirmation, rubbing a hand over your arm in an attempt to soothe your stresses. You nod slowly in understanding as you look back down towards the book in your lap. Mentally pairing the letters’ sounds several times over again with a heavy sigh.
“Th- The..?” you repeat and look back over your shoulder towards Arthur in hopes of reassurance. Only for a small smile to spread across your bitten lips upon seeing his broad grin.
“Atta boy!” he praises excitedly, giving your back a pat. Seeing his excitement only makes you feel good. Reading sucks, and if you could, you’d rather avoid it all together, but having someone with the patience to help you through it only makes your confidence grow. “Now, don’t get all weird ‘n squirmy, but this one’s a bit longer.”
His words prompt you to look down at the book again and your eyes widen. You trace your fingers over the indents as you count in your head, your lips moving subtly with each number. Eight whole letters?! That was far too long!
“Go on, sound it out” Arthur encourages, to which you nod tentatively. Parting your lips to begin, only to hear someone calling Arthur’s name. You look up from the book in your lap, watching as Miss Grimshaw approaches.
Susan looks down at the two of you, sitting at the base of the tree as you sit in Arthur’s lap. Taking note of the book in your own lap and putting two and two together. Wasting no time as she clarifies her disruption.
“Might I just borrow you, real quick? We got folks slackin’ off again ‘n they’re too damn drunk to listen to me!” Susan huffs as she folds her arms underneath her bust, an irritated scowl adorning her face. Arthur groans and runs a hand down his face. Nudging you off of his lap and setting you back onto your own two feet, the book clasped in your hands. He pushes himself up off the grass, shaking his legs out after having gone numb due to the extra weight.
“Boy,” he starts, looking down towards you again. “You keep workin’ on that, ya hear? Run along and go find Dutch or Lenny or… Hell- even Jack’ll do.” You nod slowly in understanding. Deciding on finding Dutch, as he was whom you were originally supposed to go find. Arthur ruffles your hair before he walks off behind Susan.
You look down at the book in your hands once again. You could just as easily run off and hide better, or you could do as you’re told and find Dutch. With Arthur’s encouragement fresh in your mind, you shuffle across camp to Dutch’s tent.
Unsurprisingly, he’s preaching again. Something about brotherhood? Though you don’t understand much of it. As you approach, he shuts up. His expression is as stoic as ever as he looks down at you expectantly.
“Uh-” you start, shifting your weight between your feet awkwardly. Your words just died out on your tongue. So you opt to offer the book up towards Dutch, of which he takes. A subtle grin spreads across his lips underneath his mustache.
“Evelyn Miller..” he reads fondly. Miller was his favorite author by far. Often finding his values agreeable and putting them into his own practices amongst the gang. He looks back down toward you in a bit of confusion. “What’s a boy like you doin’ with such a book?”
“Arthur ‘n Hosea want you to help me read.” you shrug, stuffing your hands into the front pockets of your dirt coated jeans. Dutch cocks his head to the side as his piercing eyes dart from you, to the book you had offered up, then back down to you. As usual, an uncomfortably long silence ensues as he debates his response. Then he nods in invitation towards the interior of his tent.
Following Dutch inside, the two of you sit down on the edge of his cot, shoulder to shoulder. Your feet unable to touch the floor fully just yet. Dutch hands you back the book and gives a vague gesture to the cover.
“How far’ve you gotten?” He inquires, setting his palms down onto his knees as he looks over at you. “One of my favorites, y’know. Evelyn Miller is the true talent of this nation.” Dutch adds assertively. No doubt the man admires the ex-professor.
“The” you say bluntly, pointing down at the engraved word on the leather cover, looking back up towards Dutch. “The?” he echoes before sighing heavily, to which you nod.
“That’s..quite alright, son. Just…” Dutch pauses, making another vague gesture down towards the book in your lap. “Pick up where you left off” He was unsure on how exactly he was supposed to teach a pre-teen these things. He wasn’t even the one who taught Arthur nor John. He stuck to himself and that was that. If they learned to read, so be it.
You nod slowly and begin to sound out your letters, just as Arthur had shown you. First an ‘A’, then an ‘M’, then an ‘E’, to an– Dutch groans outwardly, seeming impatient but trying to push through for your sake. You look back up towards him in confusion and he shakes his head. Silently telling you to continue.
‘E’, you pronounce, then moving to an ‘R’, ‘I’, ‘C’, ‘A’, ‘N’. Despite your pronunciation, the word didn’t make sense to you whatsoever. Coming out as an awkward combination of jumbled sounds, like your tongue didn’t want to co-operate with your developing brain.
Dutch sighs as he looks around his tent again. Staring blankly at the floor before suddenly getting an idea. “Kid.” you look back over towards him, prompting him to look back at you.
“What.. nation are we in?” Dutch prompts abruptly, earning a shrug from you. He moves his hand from his leg and down onto the leather cover of the book, covering up the ‘N’. Repeating his question more calmly this time.
“‘Merica..?” you repeat in just as much uncertainty as before. Your eyes dart down to Dutch’s hand, then following his arm back up to his face. Dutch gives a curt nod in confirmation, not nearly as excited as Arthur was about your progress.
“America, right. Now add the ‘N’.” Dutch removes his hand from the book as you look back down towards it once again. “Ameri..can-?” you sigh, only growing more confused by Dutch’s teaching process. 
Dutch gives another subtle nod in approval, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t have the patience to sit here as you learn an entire new word, but he wasn’t enough of a dick to shove you off.
“The American..” you read quietly, staring down at the cover. Quickly, you get up from Dutch’s cot and shuffle out of his tent. Already excited to show off your new reading skills to someone- anyone really. The first person you spot is John, sitting by the campfire as usual as he whittles a large stick into some unknown shape.
Waltzing right up to John and thrusting the book in his face excitedly, causing him to recoil in surprise. “Whoa, kid- slow your roll.. Damn near hit me in the face.” He chuckles, nudging the book away from him with the back of his hand, curled around the wood scrap. “What’s up?”
“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly with a small giggle, a broad grin spread across your face as you show John the cover. “I figured out what it says!” you beam, causing John to crack a grin as well. Your positivity was one of the more wholesome things around camp. A welcome change of pace.
“Oh yeah? What’s it say?” John muses as he looks back down to the wood in hand. Digging his knife into the surface and cutting off chunk by chunk, letting them fall to the ground at his feet.
“‘The A-merican!’” you read, pointing at each word on the cover as if teaching John what it says. Looking back at him with stars in your eyes, hoping he shares your excitement. He doesn’t mirror it like Arthur, but he’s more proud than Dutch.
“You forgot a word,” John says bluntly with a laugh, tapping the tip of his knife against the leather book, drawing your attention back down to it. You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You had gotten so excited that you were finally improving, that you completely forgot the last word.
Turning the book back around towards yourself, sitting down on the ground next to John. He turns in his seat, away from you. Not exactly fond of the idea of accidentally stabbing you as he whittles away. “Keep doin’ what you been doin’.” he encourages under his breath. His eyes back down to his knife.
You don’t respond to him. Instead, trying to focus on piecing together your letters. Some of them don’t make any sense at all. There’s familiar letters like ‘E’, ‘I’, or ‘N’, but they don’t make the same sounds like last time. Grumbling in frustration, you mumble something akin to ‘in-fear-no’.
“Inferno,” John corrects pointedly. “The American Inferno. Dutch’s favorite.” You look up towards him excitedly, a toothy grin splitting across your face. You just sounded out the cover of your new book! With help and immense frustration, of course.
You carefully pull open the cover and look down at the first page, only to find page after page of even more confusing words– closing it once again. Maybe you’ll try some more another time.
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Surprisingly fun to write ! I enjoyed this- thank you sm :D
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scarfacemarston · 2 months
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Ok, hiiiii!!!
Right, so I’ve noticed Sadie doesn’t get enough fanfics and I have a little idea if that’s all right 🤭🤭
Ok so hear me out, after Sadie gets with the reader once she’s been able to find herself love and not been so traumatised anymore, she asked the reader to marry her because she doesn’t want to loose them like she lost Jake (specifically fem!reader, if it’s all right?)
Yep! Here ya go. :D Content warning: Gun violence and gunshot injury. Non-graphic. Bullets whirled past you at lightning speed. It was supposed to be an easy smash and grab, in and out, super easy. Wrong. You, Sadie, and Arthur had staked the scene out the night before, noting every possible point of entry and exit. You were thorough - but not exhaustive enough.
It started easy enough creeping up to the impressive homestead, but despite all the time spent scouting, there was a hidden covered window on an unseen third floor - a lookout room. It wasn’t long til you heard a voice announcing your presence - and then the rain of bullets began, causing you to duck for cover.
Sadie had taken the lead as usual, causing you and Arthur to share a look and sigh. She always was a firecracker. Things were going ...okay. The three of you had finally carved out an escape route when you heard the frantic shout of your name and copious amounts of cursing. Then, you felt it. The dull throb and the burning, the red seeping through, wetting and sticking your skin. Time seemed to slow down; why had Sadie and Arthur’s voices seemed so far away?
You heard Sadie let out a furious roar before your eyes rolled back, and darkness took you. 
From there, time was a blur. You felt pressure on your hands, and Sadie’s voice called for you to hold on, her voice sounding increasingly desperate.
“I’m fine,” you slurred.
“You certainly ain’t fine, young lady! Gettin’ shot ain’t fine!” Arthur chided.
You felt a calloused small hand cupping your chin.
“Come on. Hold on, baby. I’ve got you. Don’t you dare die on me, or I swear I’ll kick your ass in the next life.” Sadie threatened, but the panic was evident.
Everything was a blur, from hearing murmurs from Hosea and Grimshaw discussing how to best remove the cloth from your shoulder to hearing arguments between Grimshaw and Sadie.
“I ain’t leavin’ her! I shouldn’t have…..” to hearing the frightening words, “Hold her down.” 
A damn shame the pain wasn’t a blur. You remembered crying out and later a cool cloth on your head … Someone….it had to be Sadie, whispered words of encouragement.
“Come on, they’re almost finished. You’re being so brave. So damn brave. Just a little longer.” You gave Sadie’s hand a weak but present squeeze before passing out again.
Next thing you knew, you were awake, resting on a cot in Sadie’s tent with a bandaged shoulder and clean clothing. You glanced around, ready to prop yourself up - 
“No, don’t you dare try an’ sit up.”
You tried again.
“Come on, stop it. Damn you’re stubborn as a mule.” You heard Sadie’s voice ring out and a light shove on your good shoulder.
You grinned toothily.
“Think you like it that way. Stubborn. Keeps you on your toes.” You slurred, your voice hoarse.
Sadie sighed before giving you her canteen.
“That what you think? Drink up.” Sadie ordered. She sat at the edge of your cot, staring at the ground. Sadie wasn’t the most talkative of women, but this was something different. Her shoulders were tense. Sadie had something to say. You wondered if she was going to admonish you for not being careful enough.
“Look, I ain’t good at this. All of this.” Sadie said, gesturing between the two of you.
“It’s a wonder Jakey and I…..that we became a thing. When he died, I felt like my world had gone dark. Like the sun would never rise again. Then I met you and my world seemed a little lighter. We took our sweet time gettin’ to where we are now, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now the sun is back and it’s all because of you. But today? Shit, I thought I lost you. There was so much blood. I felt I couldn’t do nothin’ but shoot. Sometimes, I feel like that’s all I’m good for.” Sadie said with a humorless laugh.
“I ain’t the prayin’ sort. Not at all, but I prayed today. I already lost one love, I can’t lose another. I can’t. I’ve never done this before, and can’t say I ever saw myself doin’ this, but you somehow make me do a lot of things I’ve never done before.” Sadie smiled slightly.
She reached into her pocket, fidgeting with something before revealing a gold band with a light blue stone. 
“It won’t be the same as a man and his woman, but I think we have our own special thing that no one can take from us. Will you do me the honor of bein’ my woman? My gal for the rest of our lives? You make my day a lot brighter, and I’d do anythin’ to make you happy for the rest of your days.” Sadie held up the ring, hopefully willing herself to keep eye contact.
You clapped your hand over your mouth and gasped.
You thought about marriage as a girl. Most girls did, but you always expected it to be what girls were “supposed” to be thinking about. Then you met Sadie, and your world turned upside down. You always had feelings for women, but Sadie was something else. You didn’t know women could even have something like marriage until Sadie came back with a book about Boston Marriages.
Sadie shuffled her feet, bringing you back to reality. Shit, you had been thinking too long.
“Of course! Yes, of course I’ll be your woman. I never thought it was ….I never thought this day would come!” you said with a splitting grin and a heart full of love. You laughed joyfully, causing Sadie’s shoulders to soften, a wide grin of her own stretching her features as she relaxed.
"Oh, Thank God. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. I woulda managed, but I woulda felt mighty awkward.” She chuckled.
You reached out for her, hoping for an embrace before hissing in pain. Sadie rolled her eyes. 
“What am I going to do with you? Let me.” she huffed before wrapping you in her arms before planting her lips to yours.
END
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aspentart · 1 month
Text
Arthur Morgan x GN! Reader
(*Note: This is set after Colter because I haven’t gotten past Ch. 2 and want minimal spoilers even though I’ve watched countless lore videos. I just have an awful memory, lol.)
{{ Any asterisks are notes from me that are silly / wouldn’t match the theme of the fan fiction/ were too long-winded to put into the actual fic! They correspond/are paired respectively in numerical order <33
No warnings in particular, just a bunch of fluff at the end and slightly out of character interactions? <333
Everyone in camp had finally settled down after a few days, save maybe Uncle and Swanson (but when were they ever settled in?), but otherwise, everyone was doing fine. Valentine seemed a quaint town, the saloon already housing Javier and Charles. Everyone in Van der Linde was overjoyed to be off that mountain. You included, of course. Still recovering from that mountain fog, you stuck to doing chores around camp rather than immediately sniffing about Valentine for jobs. Even after Dutch’s long-winded speech of everyone needing to pull their weight, you felt the need to shake Colter’s frost from your bones, but only a few more days. Any longer than that, and everyone would be upset, not just Dutch. 
Today would be your last day of ‘leisure’ before you’d have to go into town and pick up a job for the camp’s funds. Pushing past your tent’s flaps, you greet warming rays of sunlight. Tilly and Karen are the first to say good morning to you-- giddy, to your surprise. They’re both rambling about going into town with Mary Beth, talking about all the mischief they’re planning. Leaving you after your tired hums for answers, the girls kept chatting until they seemed to slip away from camp. Miss Grimshaw is upset at the disappearance of Karen, Tilly, and Mary Beth; you do your best to assure her it won’t be long until the girls are all back. She simply finds it as motivation to nag you about your chores, and you have no choice but to oblige after she ushers you to chop wood for the various campfires. 
At the drop of a pin, you suddenly took up the chores of most of the girls. Of course, there wasn’t much to complain about; you are supposed to be helping them regardless. Most of the things were tame anyway, and honestly, you enjoyed the quiet nature of each task. It felt less like a punishment, in your opinion, at least. It’s not much longer until you hear chatter bubble up again, particularly the howling laughter you knew erupting from Karen. The sun was beginning to dip down by now; you hadn’t even noticed how quickly the day passed. “God, you should’ve seen the look on his face! I’m surprised he managed to stand a second against Arthur. Then again, I probably would’ve been worse off if Arthur wasn’t there,” Karen recalled, grabbing your arm. 
Mary Beth slipped her arm around your other arm, shaking it excitedly. “You should have come with us! God knows you need it; being cooped up in camp is doing you no good,” she giggles. With a slight nod, you reply, “I guess? ‘Think I like tending to chickens over being at the end of someone’s pistol.” 
“You’re such a sissy! Come and live a little, [y/n]!” Mary Beth retorts playfully, now grabbing at your shoulder.
“I think I’ve already lived my fair share before and during Blackwater,” you huff, shaking your head at the thought of another big mishap. 
To your surprise, Arthur butts into the conversation, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest: “I have to admit [y/n], ‘think you might have a better head over all of us.” You can only muster a soft sigh in response, but there’s a familiar tug on your lips. Karen nudges your side, raising her brows. Mary Beth mirrors her gesture, adding to the teasing by mimicking a wolf whistle. Arthur hadn’t heard (much to your relief), already being pestered by Dutch about something. You’re dragged away by the two, both incessantly teasing you before settling at a table with Tilly. By then, the group dismissed the entire exchange between you and Arthur; you thank a higher power or some ethereal being that they did.
The four of you chatted and swapped gossip for some time, well into suppertime. Tilly and Mary Beth excused themselves first, with Karen soon following after a small drink. Most of the camp slinked away into their respective tents after supper. Micah, Uncle, and John were bickering over something (mostly nothing) nearby. Fortunately, a ‘minimal’ amount of booze mingled amongst them. Thinking of heading to sleep, you finally leave your seat and walk towards your tent. 
However, you’re quickly interrupted by someone calling out your name. Your head instinctively turns to face whoever called out to you, finding a familiar face. Arthur. “Y’busy? I just need a small favor,” he asks you, standing by the posts at the front of camp. You weren’t, but your soft bedroll was calling your name. Considering your options for a second, you decide that resting can wait a bit longer. “Not busy at all. What do you need, Morgan?” You reply lightheartedly, quickly walking towards him. 
“Well, I lied; it’s not a favor,” Arthur hums, shifting on his feet. 
“A bit too late to be messing around,” you comment, chuckling.
Arthur nods in agreement, having a small laugh himself: “I’m well aware, [y/n]. Feel’ like I should-- I dunno, ‘live a little’ in the great words of our dear friend, Mary Beth.” 
Lacking proper words to express himself, Arthur slips off his hat and holds it to his chest before you can even get a word out. If you weren’t mistaken, he looked nervous despite wearing that sweet, lopsided grin of his. Then there was that look in his eyes, one you wouldn’t have unless you were being sweet on someone. Or, at least, were fond of. You would be lying to yourself, too, if you didn’t find it charming. He took a step closer, closing the fair gap between you both. With a deep breath, he began: “[y/n], you have been… an incredible person to know for these past years. I wanted to thank you for staying with us. With me in all that time.” Arthur’s voice was low and gentle. At first, you were expecting something much different, considering your interactions with Arthur were few and far between. To find the hound of Van der Linde completely smitten in front of you wasn’t on your checklist of life’s accomplishments; it certainly was now, though. 
*Arthur’s confession wasn’t long; he didn’t go out of his way to swoon you with some grand gesture. No long-winded rant or excessive compliments, just a cut-and-dry to-the-point talk. *It was very, well, something you expected from him. When Arthur seemed to have finished, you both stood in a bit of an uncomfortable silence. A smile crept onto your features as his words finally set in. It was safe to say you reciprocated his feelings, pulling the cowboy into a firm (but loving) hug. He returned your embrace, twice as firm.
~~~~~~~~~
I would've written his confession, but I wasn't sure how to write the dialogue with his accent??
I read this line out loud, in my head, to my CAT. I couldn't come up with anything better, but I hope to improve in my next fanfic.
>>I'd love feedback and any constructive criticism or tips!
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twola · 6 months
Note
Sorta got carried away with the prompt list…(I must be ovulating because DAMN the pregnancy prompts got me going)
But #161, 154,151,140,125- where the reader is preggo and miserable walking around camp so the gangs giving out ideas (sexy time) and Arthur’s like ;) then later on the reader is like ya know what get over here.
Do with it what you will.
You do the best with anything you type!
Xoxo
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Oh - trust me, I am into this.
I'm also eight months pregnant myself so I am SUPER into this. Am I projecting something here? Perhaps…
Pain Relief
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link
You are very over it at this point. Really. Very over it. It’s a struggle to get yourself out of the cot that you and Arthur share. 
The morning sun beats down on the worn canvas of your shared tent, and you know it's by some divine providence that Miss Grimshaw hasn’t summoned you to work yet. Or maybe it was Arthur snapping at her when he saw you struggling to carry a basket of laundry.
That must be it.
But a laze you are not - even now, when your swollen stomach makes any kind of movement difficult - when your sleep is nearly non-existent and the pains and swelling and overall discomfort are driving you crazy.
Pushing yourself up, you huff, annoyed that seven months ago you were chasing down bounty hunters on horseback and now getting up out of a cot makes you lose your breath. 
God, this was terrible. Finally getting around to standing up, you glance at yourself in the small mirror Arthur uses for shaving. Your chemise stretched taught over the swell of your belly. The dark circles under your eyes from lack of quality sleep. Sighing, you run your fingers through your long hair to tame it, or at least attempt to. After fighting with the fabric of your dress to cover your frame, you shove your feet into your boots and breathe out heavily as you sit back on the cot to tie the laces. God damn everything is a struggle with how swollen your belly is.
By the time you make it out of the tent, the midmorning sun beats down, and you shield your eyes for a moment before you feel a small tug on your skirts. You look down to see Jack give you a toothy grin, one small hand fisting the cotton of your skirt and the other clutching the most recent toy Charles had carved for him.
“Auntie, you’re so big! You look ready to pop." Jack pipes up excitedly.
You laugh as you hear a cluck of disapproval as Abigail follows in her son’s footsteps, “Jack - that’s very rude of ya - shouldn’t make comments about ladies like that.”
“It’s alright, Abigail,” You smile at her as she frowns down at the boy, “I do feel ready to pop.”
“Y’look like the baby’s dropped… ain’t long now.” Abigail’s eyes trail down to your belly as she shoos Jack off to play elsewhere.
“Too long in my opinion.” You roll your eyes and Abigail chuckles in return.
“Ladies!”
Susan Grimshaw’s voice cuts through the peace of the morning. Abigail’s gaze looks past you to where the sharp disappointment came from, and you frown as you hear footsteps stomp ever closer before the camp matriarch pushes into your view.
“There’s laundry to be done,” Susan eyes you up and down, “You can certainly sit and still do the washing. C’mon, get to it.”
She waves her hands at you dismissively, Abigail rolls her eyes and starts to head over toward where the other women have started doing the day’s wash.
You scowl at Grimshaw’s retreating figure, rubbing your aching lower back as you too make your way over to the edge of the camp, where the large tub is filled with soapy water and the pile of men’s shirts seems to be overflowing. You sigh tiredly, finding the stool 
Mary-Beth places her hand on your back slightly over your own, massaging gently as you sigh in a moment of temporary relief. 
"Try walking, I hear it helps. Tilly and I will cover for you for a few minutes.”
You thank her quietly and slowly make your way to the woodline of camp, taking a few minutes to walk back and forth before giving up and sitting down on the stool, letting out a long, labored breath as you wince in pain.
“Y’know….”
You open one of your eyes to see Karen across the tub, a mischievous look on her face. Cocking your eyebrow, you wait for her to continue.
Karen smirks, "You should try having sex."
Well - volume was never her strong suit. Across the camp, the men’s conversation falls silent as several pairs of eyes glance at you.
You flush from your hairline to your chest as you dunk a shirt into the tub, trying to ignore the stares you know you're getting as Karen merely chuckles.
“Aye, Arthur- sounds like you're needed elsewhere.” Javier chuckles and you're mortified.
You spare the quickest glance up in his direction, the man who got you into this mess in the first place. You can see Arthur’s smug grin from under the rim of his hat.
-
You silently scrub at the rest of the laundry load, handing shirts to Tilly for her to wring out and hang on the line.
“Don’t let her get to you, you know how Karen is. Tilly places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently to assure you before returning to the laundry. You sigh, taking another shirt and dunking it into the water.
A pair of boots land in your vision before a hand reaches down toward you. You look up to see Arthur ready to pull you up to stand, a gentle smile on his face.
“C’mon now sweetheart.” 
You sigh and take his hand, secretly grateful for the assistance to stand up. He steadies you before pulling your hand to his lips and pressing them to your knuckles.
“How’s about you lay down for a little.” He offers, holding his arm out to you as you wind your own around it, letting him walk you slowly to the tent, holding back the canvas for you to step inside. 
You let out a long breath, bracing your lower back with both hands for a moment before sighing. There was just no getting comfortable at this point.
“C’mere, let me help you.”
Arthur stoops down on one knee and loosens your bootlaces enough that he can pull them from your feet one by one. You let a breath out once both boots are off, unable to deny it felt good to get your swollen feet out of them.
“Better?” He looks up at you for a moment and you nod, your hand moving from his shoulder that you were balancing on to your lower back again, idly rubbing at near-constant ache that has settled there. 
Arthur stands up and places a kiss to your forehead before turning around and taking his hat off, placing it on the small table where he kept his shaving kit.
Karen’s suggestion echoes in your mind as you watch him run his fingers through his short hair absentmindedly.
You roll your palm over your distended abdomen, frowning.
“You don’t have to lie and tell me you want me.” Your voice cuts through the silence and Arthur swings around to look at you, puzzled.
“Darlin’, it ain’t a lie. It’s never a lie.” He responds softly, taking a step closer to you.
“Really? Lookin’ like this… it does something for you?”
Arthur blushes before looking down at his boots. “Well, I… uh... Yes?”
You quirk your eyebrow, placing your hands on your hips, “I’m a goddamn watermelon-”
“You’re pregnant-”
“Literally swollen up like a damn cow-”
“C’mon now darlin’-”
And damn, if you can’t hold back the tears from collecting on your eyelashes as you spin away from him.
His broad arms wrap around your swollen waist, pulling you back half a step and against his large frame. One hand spreads wide over your belly as you feel him press his lips to the top of your head.
“I… ain’t the woman you was chasin’ after anymore.” You admit with a cracking voice, the tears spilling down your cheeks as your hand falls upon his over your belly, “Who knows when I’ll be able to ride or shoot or do anythin’ like that again.”
His lips move from the top of your head down to your earlobe, where he nips gently. Arthur’s low voice rumbles in your ear, causing a delightful shiver down your spine.
“Whole world knows you’re mine -” He pulls you another half backward and you gasp as you feel the long, hard line of him against your rear, “Christ, you’re the most beautiful thing alive, all big with my child.”
“A-Arthur - ” You whine as one of his hands cups a swollen breast through your blouse.
“Have half a mind to keep you like this.” Arthur continues, his other hand moving downward to slide between your legs and the needy sound that escapes your throat is loud enough to make him shush you as he presses at your core through layers of cotton.
Your hands fly to grasp his forearm as he gently gropes at your breast, and you turn your head up toward his and he greedily pushes his lips upon your own, tongue pressing inside your mouth as you moan into his.
You have no idea how long it is you spend wrapped up in his arms - your hips pressing back into his, his hands groping at your breasts and cunt, your knees shaking as you pant into his mouth. 
Those damned hands of this, they keep you under his spell as somehow, he unlaces your skirts and they fall to the ground in a heap around your ankles. He spins you around in his embrace, and his lips fly to your neck as he opens the buttons of your blouse. You let him pull the sleeves down your arm, leaving you in just an old cotton chemise stretched tight over your belly. The seam of your bloomers, soaked, chafes delightfully against your cunt.
It’s only another moment before he’s shrugging your chemise down over your shoulders to free your breasts.
“What’s gonna be the best for you?” Arthur whispers into your ear, his warm, somewhat rough palm engulfing your breast, squeezing it gently.
Your head tips backward as you lean against him, a high and flighty moan bubbling up from your chest. “On- on my side-”
Your chemise flutters to the floor, along with your bloomers, his hands pushing the cotton down of your body.
“Go on, get in the cot and get comfortable.” Arthur nips at your ear again and gives a playful swat to your rear.
You nod, eyes falling from his face to his hands as he pulls his suspenders down his arms and begins unbuttoning his work shirt. You back up two steps to the cot, slowly sitting down upon it, your gaze refusing to leave him as he strips himself down.
With the speed of a man on a mission, he rids himself of his boots and the rest of his clothing and stalks the few steps to the cot.  You turn yourself over to lay in it, burdened by your stomach as you let out a long breath as you finally settle down on your side, facing the wagon that makes up the side of the tent.
Arthur slides into the small cot next to you, that warm, big hand finding its way to your belly as he situates himself behind you, pressing all six feet of his frame against you, his body hard, hot, and wanting.
“You tell me what feels good, darlin’.” He mouths against your neck as his hand retracts behind your hip to stroke his cock.
You moan lowly and press your hips back against him, you can feel his smile on your skin as he guides himself to your entrance. The blunt head of his cock presses into the rim of your cunt, and his hand moves to sling your thigh back over his, opening you to him more.
“Mm, that feels good.” Your voice strains as he slides himself deeper into you, a deep, satisfied rumble coming from his chest when his hips press fully against your rear, fully sheathed in your cunt.
His arm swings across your hips, pulling your thigh backward even more as he languidly rolls himself into you. His fingers find that small bundle of nerves as he nibbles on your earlobe.
You mewl aloud at the stimulation, panting as he continues to press himself into you. His low, rough voice whispers in your ear, vacillating from sweet nothings to filthy utterances. The slide of his cock into your cunt is the constant, grounding thing as his fingers that rub at your clit speed up and slow down.
“A-Arthur-” you pitifully whine, gasping as you huddle toward that precipice. He grunts into your ear as he slightly picks up the speed of his hips rolling into yours, still gentle. He pinches at that nub and you’re gone, your legs shaking and hips seizing as you meek through your release, your slick glossing his cock and dripping from your body, even with him filling you.
“Tha’s my girl…” Arthur slurs as his hand moves up to cup at your lower belly, “Christ, I ain't ever gonna be able to stop fillin’ you-”
His murmurs fade into a groan as he presses forward one final time, burying himself deeply in your warmth as he shudders his release into you.
You sigh in contentment at the feeling, warmth blooming from your joined hips. His lips touch the back of your neck as his large hand rubs gently at your hip as he catches his breath.
Arthur gently pulls out, you gasp slightly at the feelings of the loss of his flesh and the dripping of his warm spend from your body. He shushes you with a kiss over your jaw, rubbing circles over your swollen belly.
“Feelin’ any better?”
Your hand covers his over your belly as you lean back fully into his embrace.
“Much better.”
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ghouligancentral · 2 years
Text
Me? I need a vacation.
Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader
Summary- Hosea creates an opportunity for Arthur and the reader to go on a little trip.
A/N- It's Arthur Morgan lovin' hour y'all! I am probably going to make it into a mini series, with each story taking place in a different location. Our boy Arthur really does deserve a vacation.
Tags: Fluff and Smut, Slightly possessive Arthur Morgan, Cuddling, sharing a bath.
Rating/warning: Rated 18+ for smut. Smut is in between the ************** so it can be skipped if you're not feeling it.
-----------------------------------------------
You let out a long sigh as you see Dutch, once again, berating Arthur about something or another. You have half the mind to go over there and tell Dutch to shove it, but you know what Arthur would say. He’d tell you that ‘it's just Dutch’. Blessedly you are pulled out of your rising frustration by the sound of Hosea calling your name. You wave him over before turning back to watch the men talk.
“Hey Hosea,” you mumble as you rest your elbows on your knees. Hosea takes a seat next to you so that you both get a good look at Dutch and Arthur talking.
“Dutch never lets up on your husband, does he?” Hosea utters as he too watches the men.
“No, but I’d be damned if I didn’t say he oughta give Arthur a break.”
“Well, that’s precisely what I’ve been thinkin’," Hosea responds with a smile.
Now that caught your interest, you turn to look at Hosea prompting him to further explain.
“I think the both of you need a little break. Take some time off, go into a town, relax and get some rest for a while,” Hosea explains as he gives you a light pat on the back. The thought excites you a little. While in Saint-Denis you heard talk of something newlyweds were beginning to do called a ‘honeymoon’. During this time couples would go on a trip just for the sake of enjoying it. You and Arthur had been married for about a year and a half now, so you wouldn’t consider yourselves as ‘newlyweds’ but the idea sounded fun. However, your heart sank when the reality of the undertaking hit you.
“And how do you suppose we do that? Dutch probably already has another job for Arthur and Grimshaw will just about lose her mind if she thinks I’m going off for a leisure trip,” you sigh as you slump back down in your seat.
“I’ve got a plan that’ll solve that problem,” Hosea grins as he speaks.
” I’ll tell Dutch and Susan that I’ve got you doing a job for hmm,” Hosea asks as though he is thinking, but you know him better than that, he already has this planned down to the last detail,” a month.”
“A month! We can’t be gone for a whole month! We certainly don’t have the savings for that.”
You look at him with wide eyes. While both you and Arthur work your tails off for money, most of that goes to the gain. You tend to keep a larger cut for yourself than Arthur does, but that meager amount still doesn’t give you nearly enough.
“I’ve thought of that too,” Hosea says as he tries to keep the smile off of his face. Hosea lifts the strap of the bag he’s wearing and places it over your shoulder.
“What’s this?” you ask as he begins untying the front of the satchel. Hosea flips the top piece open to reveal stacks of cash. Your eyes widen at the sight. You’ve never seen so much cash in one place, except for maybe a bank.
“This is for the both of you. It’s 500 dollars.” Hosea announces.
“But we can’t just take your money….”
Your words trail off as you continue looking at the bag of money in your lap.
“There’s none I’d rather go to. You better believe me when I say Arthur does more for this gang than it deserves. Consider this a payment for the debt we owe him,” Hosea grins as he says the words.
“Thank you,” you utter, still too stunned to form full sentences.
“No you take that boy and make him get some rest,” Hosea exclaims as he closes the bag and ties it back up.
“Where’d you get all this anyways?” You ask playfully as you squint at him. Hosea takes a moment to laugh before offering you an explanation.
“I may be an old man, but that don’t mean I can still do a job on my own now,” Hosea remarks before standing and offering you a hand to help you stand as well,” now, let’s go tell the others that you and Arthur have a very important job to do.”
You smile as you take his hand and stand, before walking over with him to where Dutch and Arthur are.
“Now I’ve got this plan here—”
“Dutch, I need to talk to you for a second.”
Hosea interrupts Dutch and pulls him off to the side before throwing his arm over the other man’s shoulder. Hosea and Dutch speak quietly for a few moments, you can’t make out the words but you know the conversation is about the both of you as Dutch keeps raising his eyebrows in your direction every so often. As the two older men talk, Arthur gives you a questioning look expecting you to elaborate on the situation.
You lean in close to him before whispering,” I’ll explain later.” You watch as Dutch’s brow furrows and you fear that he won’t agree to the plan, but, as always, Hosea manages to ease Dutch’s worries, prompting him to give a little nod. The two men make their way back to you and Arthur.
“So it seems that my plan has to wait ‘cause Hosea already has a job for the both of you. Hosea already explained it to [y/n] here and she agreed,” Dutch states, and Arthur just cocks his eyebrows in response before Dutch continues,” It seems like this is going to involve a lot of travel and time so I guess we won't be seein’ the two of you for a month.”
Arthur’s eyes widen at the statement. He was used to being sent on long jobs, but never with you. At this moment he didn’t really care what the job entailed, he was just too excited at the idea of spending a whole month with you.
“When do we leave?” Arthur asks as he looks from Dutch to Hosea, you, too, were wondering the same thing.
“First thing in the morning,” Hosea explains, “that should give the two of you time to get your things together. Now, if you will excuse Dutch and me, we have to go talk to Susan.”
—-------------- “Alright,” Arthur announces as he pulls back the tent opening, ushering you inside,” You’ve gotta start explain’ some things. What’s this ‘job’ Hosea has us doing?”
You smile widely as you look up at Arthur.
“He told me that we should go on a trip, like a honeymoon.”
“A honey what?” Arthur questions as he flops down on the cot. Arthur lets out a tired groan at the feeling of finally being able to sit down.
“A honeymoon. It’s when a new couple takes a trip just to enjoy themselves. Heaven knows that you definitely deserve a vacation,” you exclaim, plopping down beside him.
“Right, so how does Hosea expect us to be able to afford all of this? I mean, we’re not exactly rolling in cash right now,” Arthur sighs.
“Hosea gave me this,” you announce as you untie the top flap of the satchel,” It’s $500.” Arthur’s eyes go wide in response to what he sees.
“But how? We can’t just accept this. What about the gang?”
Arthur rambles on for a bit before you stop him.
“Arthur Morgan,” you state sternly,” this gang has taken almost everything from you. Hell, they probably owe you more than this for all you have done. If you can’t accept the money or the trip for yourself, then just do it for me.”
Arthur nods as he lets the words sink in. You know he’d do anything for you. He’d leave everything and just walk away from the gang if you asked him to.
“Okay. For you. So where do you wanna go?” you ask. Arthur wraps an arm around your shoulder before pulling you closer to him.
“Anywhere as long as I’m with you, Mrs. Morgan.” —--------------------------------
The both of you decide to start your trip by heading out west. While its vast expanses and beautiful scenery are alluring, the lack of people also proves to be the bigger selling point. Fewer people mean there is less of a chance that you or Arthur would get recognized.
That evening, while Arthur is finishing up a couple of tasks around the camp, you work on packing all the essentials, which for this trip, is basically everything the both of you own, not there is that much. You hear someone cough outside of your tent and you turn to find Hosea leaning up against one of its posts.
“So you two make a decision on where yer going to go?” Hosea asks as he folds his arms across his chest.
“Yes, we are heading out West,” you explain as you step closer to him, offering him a wide grin. Hosea nods in approval.
“Good. Lots of space out there. Bess loved when we would go in the spring, she always enjoyed seeing the flowers,” Hosea sighs, a twinge of sadness creeping into his words. You give him a moment to reminisce before asking the question that is on your mind.
“Hosea, what happens when we get back and don’t have any money from the supposed job?”
Hosea just chuckles a little before he replies.
“Mrs. Morgan, do you really think that your husband would let the two of you come back empty-handed?” Hosea replies. He makes a good point. If you know Arthur, and you do, seeing as you are married to the man, always has some sort of plan brewing in the back of his mind at all times.
“Just don’t let him work too hard. This is a vacation for him after all,” Hosea smiles but his words are interrupted by a coughing fit. Sadness strikes you as you watch the man double over, and you move to help him take a seat but he just waves you off. After a moment, Hosea manages to get control over his lungs and stands back up. The exhaustion in his eyes is clear.
“Now if you just happen to find yourselves in the position that you can do so, why don’t the two of you scope out the area to see if there is any place that would be a good area for the gang in the future,” Hosea mentions as brings a hand up and rubs it against his chin,” I ain’t got much time left and I just wanna make sure the gang is in a good place before I go.”
You nod solemnly, understanding just how much this gang means to Hosea, Arthur would be the same way if he were to be in a similar position. You quickly push the thought of losing Arthur far from your mind as
“Oh, I forgot to ask. How did it go with Ms. Grimshaw?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a little.
“It wasn’t pretty but Dutch and I didn’t really give her a say in the matter,” Hosea chuckles. You have to smile to yourself, you know how stubborn the woman can be. However, you doubt the camp would even be able to make it without her.
“Everything alright?” Arthur asks as he approaches the two of you.
“Just finalizing the last details. You choose a great place to go, Arthur. Fresh mountain air, clear skies, a place to really relax,” Hosea announces as he pats the man on the back,” well I best get a move on and let you two finish your packing.”
Both you and Arthur say your goodbyes to Hosea before you turn around to resume gathering your things. Arthur walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you back against him.
“You happy?” Arthur hums before placing a kiss on your neck. You sigh a small ‘uh huh’ as you relax into the man’s touch.
“Good,” Arthur responds as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck,” I really need a vacation.”
The next morning the two of you get an early start, heading out of camp just as dawn is breaking. You had said your goodbyes to the others the previous evening, so there was no need to wait on them to wake up.
It was going to take you a couple of days to reach Colorado, so you had planned a couple of stops on the way. The first was in the town of Strawberry, and you were able to reach it by mid-day. You were already a little tired from the ride, so Arthur decided to go ahead and rent a room for the two of you. The plan was to rest for an hour or two before doing some supply shopping around the area, however, those plans quickly change when you see the hungry look in his eyes.
As Arthur is paying for the room, you look over to see his intense gaze upon you. Those icy blue eyes are almost predatory. He wants you. You feel the first hints of arousal gathering in your core as the two of you remain locked in a stare.
Arthur has no idea what got him going, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain. Maybe it was the thought that he finally has some time alone with you, no chance of being interrupted by the gang, no responsibilities to uphold, just you and him with the freedom to do as you please.
You smirk at him as he strides over to you after receiving the key from the hotel staff. He grabs your wrist and has you follow him up the stairs to your room.
*****************************************************************
You barely have time to walk through the door to your room before Arthur slams it shut and locks it. Turning back you see the look in his eyes is wild and hungry. You know what that look means. He wants you and he’s going to have you. 
Arthur drops the saddle bags to the floor before he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is desperate, you feel his tongue explore your mouth as he backs you up against the bed. The both of you flop onto the bed when your knees hit the back of the frame. You let out a little squeak at the feeling of Arthur landing on top of you. Arthur pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he is holding his weight instead of you. 
“Sorry darlin’,” Arthur murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss before beginning to place hot, open mouthed kisses along your jawline. A moan escapes your lips as you feel his hand wander over your body, as he fiddles with the buttons of your blouse. 
“Damn it!” Arthur growls when he has to pull away from your jaw to focus on the buttons keeping him from feeling your soft skin in his hands. With all of his focus being on the blouse, Arthur quickly manages to remove the shirt. He feels his cock stir in his trousers at the sight of your bare skin before him. Arthur helps you to sit up as he finishes removing the blouse and your chemise. You gasp as you feel his calloused hands begin to caress your tender skin. 
You feel the rough scratch of his stubble as he gently places kisses onto your breasts. As his mouth showers one breast in attention, his hand attends to the other, pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation has you moaning out his name and arching your back. You feel yourself grow even more damp with the action and you rub your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache there. 
“Arthur,” you muse, causing Arthur to look up into your eyes,” I’m supposed to be takin’ care of you on this trip.” 
You know Arthur gets off on giving you pleasure, but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty for just laying there under him, doing nothing. 
“Oh darlin, you really wanna please me?”
You give an eager nod. A smile spreads across Arthur’s face as he brings one hand up to cup your cheek before he positions himself so that his mouth is right next to your ear. ,” if you really want to take care of me you’ll just lay and let me hear those moans while if fuck this sweet little pussy.”
Arthur emphasizes his words by rubbing his hand against your clothed core. The combination of his words and movements have you whining pitifully underneath him. His trousers are painfully tight, the feeling of his hard member pressed up against your thigh has him desperate. After his battle with your blouse, Arthur decides to forgo the removal of your skirt. 
Arthur grunts as bunches up your skirt so that he can access your core. You let out a moan as you felt him sliding two fingers into you. Normally Arthur would take his time, slowly teasing you with fingers and mouth before finally giving you what you wanted, but today was different. Arthur was fucking you with his fingers roughtly as he nips at your collar bone. You can hear him fumbling around with his gun belt with one hand while his other continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. You have one hand fisted into the sheets while the other grasps as his shirt. Arthur tosses his gun belt off to the side of the bed before working to undo the front of his trousers. 
A groan escapes his lips when he manages to free his hard cock. He gently removes his fingers from your center, causing you to whine a little at the loss. Arthur chuckles at the sound. 
“Oh don’t you worry darlin’,” Arthur smirks as the words leave his mouth,” I’ve got something that I think you’re gonna like a lot more.”
You wiggle your hips to signal that you’re ready for him, but to your confusion, Arthur gets up off the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what he is doing, before he grabs your calves, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed. You hold your bunched up skirt out of the way as you watch Arthur position himself at your entrance. 
“Alright, hold on,” Arthur instructs as he brings one of your hands up to wrap around his neck. What does he me by— 
Your thoughts are interrupted by Arthur thrusting into as he wraps his arms around your back. He’s a big man and he knows it so he gives you a few moments to adjust to his size. The stretch of him has you closing your eyes and fisting both hands into the fabric of his shirt. Arthur’s thumb rubs soothing circles on your thigh as he coos praises at you. Telling you that you’re such a good girl and that you're his good girl. You squeak as he lifts you up into the air and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. Arthur doesn’t start slow. He starts railing up into you at a punishing pace. The feeling of the rough fabric of his shirt against your naked breasts adds to much sensation to the already overwhelming pleasure. The gasps and groans of the two of you can be heard echoing throughout the room. You are glad that it’s midday so not many people in the hotel can hear your love making. Arthur walks the both of you over to a wall and presses your back against it, this gives him the opportunity to move his hands down so that he is supporting you with one hand on your rear and the other tightly gripping your thigh. 
The angle of his thrusts has him hitting your g-spot with every movement. Arthur can feel your slick leaking out onto his trousers as he continues to fuck you. You move your hand so that it is buried in his hair. You give it a little tug to indicate you want Arthur to lean in for a kiss. Arthur gently places his lips against yours. However, the kiss is anything but gently, you lightly bite at this lower lip, causing him to growl. He increases the ferocity of his thrusts as he continues to kiss you. 
“Ah Arthur,” you moan as he continues to fill you. 
“You like this. I know you do,” Arthur purrs in your ear. You can feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm approaching as the heat in your core begins to coil tighter. You attempt to give your clit some sort of friction by grinding yourself against Arthur, but it is impossible at this angle. However, Arthur must sense your frustration, he braces you against the wall before snaking one of his hands in between your bodies. It takes him a moment to weave himself under your skirt before his hand finds its way to where the both of you meet. You let out a long groan as you feel a calloused thumb beginning to rub a small circle against your clit. 
Just as you are about to reach your peak, there is a knock at the door. “Damn it,” Arthur whispers, remembering that he had told the hotel staff to bring up some water for a bath. Arthur slows his thrusts but doesn’t stop, only pushing in about half way before pulling out and repeating the motion. You clamp your hand over your mouth to keep from moaning. 
“Just a minute!” Arthur calls out as he begins rubbing your clits harder. This causes your orgasm to wash over you. Your legs shake in his grasp and you have to bite your lip to keep from making any noise. Arthur pulls out and quickly sets you down on the bed before throwing a blanket over you. He tucks himself back into his trousers as he walks over to the door. He opens it and takes the two large buckets of steaming water from the bellboy standing there. Arthur thanks him before setting the buckets inside of the room and closing the door behind him. 
“Everything good?” Arthur smiles, watching you trying to catch your breath. He carries the water over and pours it into the small wooden tub in the corner of the room. You watch as steam begins to rise up from the water before you answer Arthur. 
“Yes. What about you?” You question as you begin to throw the blanket off of yourself. Arthur makes a motion, indicating for you to remain in place. Arthur walks back over to stand next to the bed before cupping your cheek in his hand. 
“He’s coming back with two more buckets of water. Don’t want him seein’ what’s mine,'' Arthur purrs as he lightly strokes your jaw with his thumb. Just as expected, there is another knock at the door. Arthur once again answers it and retrieves two more buckets of water along with some towels and soap. This time he locks the door when he closes it. While he adds the water to the tub, you stand and finish undressing yourself before walking over and stand behind Arthur. 
“Now let me take care of my husband,” you coo as you run your hands down his back gently. Arthur groans at the touch,” whatever ya say darlin’. I’m all yours.”
You smirk as you walk around to the front of him, hand still trailing along on this body. Your hands begin undoing the buttons of his shirt as his hands message the meat of your outer thighs. Moving to his suspenders after you finish with his shirt, you manage to unbutton them quickly. You gently push him down until he is sitting on a small wooden stool. You sink to your knees to first pull off one boot and then the other. One of your hands brushes against his hard cock as you undo his trousers. He moans your name in response. He stands back up to allow you to remove his pants. You have to take a moment to admire his large thick cock before continuing. 
“Hop in,” you say, gesturing to the tub.
“What about you? Aren’t ya gonna join me?” Arthur asks as he steps one foot into the warm water. 
“Maybe but there’s something I want to do first,” you explain as you walk over to grab the soap and towel left sitting by the door. Arthur lets out a pleased sigh as he slowly sinks into the water. Arthur dunks his head under the water and comes back up, wiping away the dirt from his face. You move the wooden stool so that it is sitting beside the tub before having a seat on it. Arthur leans back and closes his eyes as he feels himself relax. 
“Feel good?” you question as you lather up some soap in between your hands. Arthur just hums in response as he feels your fingers run through his wet hair. You begin to gently massage the soap into his hair, you can feel his muscles ease up as you begin to trail your hand down to his shoulders. You continue with your message as you knead the tension out of his biceps. 
“Feels good,” Arthur mumbles as your hands continue to work on him. 
“Good,” you coo in his ear as you get off the stool and onto your knees. This way you can reach deeper into the tub. Arthur groans as he feels one of your hands moving lower. You follow the hair on his chest down to where you were planning to go all along. Arthur gasps and opens his eyes as you gently wrap your fingers around his hard member. You just shush him and encourage him to close his eyes again. 
“Let me take care of you.”
Arthur's eyes slide shut one more as you begin rubbing his cock with your hand. You make sure to give the sensitive head some extra attention by rubbing your thumb over it on every up stroke. Arthur’s hips begin lightly thrusting up to meet your movements. 
“Oh fuck,” he grunts as he feels himself getting closer. You speed up your movements. 
“Come on Arthur, be a good boy and cum for me,” you whisper. Arthur nearly doubles over as he cums hard. Ropes of thick, white cum land on his stomach as your name falls from his lips. 
“I love ya darlin’,” Arthur pants and he tries to catch his breath after such an intense orgasm. 
“I love you too,” You reply as you caress the stubble on his cheek before reaching over to grab a washcloth. Arthur smiles as he watches you wipe away the traces of his orgasm from his chest. 
*****************************************
“You gonna join me?” Arthur chuckles as he offers you a hand to help you into the bath.
"Sure you won't be too cramped?" You ask, hesitating to take his hand.
"No. I'd actually be offended if you don't get in here."
With this you take his hand before you step into the tub. Arthur has a leg on either side of your body as he pulls you flush against his chest. 
“Besides,” Arthur explains as he starts to massage soap into your hair,” this is your vacation too.”
The warm water eases the tension in your muscles and you allow your eyes to flutter closed as you lean your head back, resting it on Arthur.
“See, I was right. Now just relax,” Arthur coos in your ear. He hums as he continues to lather your body in soap. 
The both of you remain seated in the water until it turns cold before deciding to get out. As you dry off your legs, you turn to find Arthur smiling at you. 
“Do you mind?” you giggle as you continue to rub your body with the towel. 
“Not at all,” Arthur smirks before walking over to you. He places a gentle kiss on your head before resuming the task of redressing. 
Oh this will be a fun vacation. 
-------------------------------
Thanks for reading. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. As always feel free to comment or message me with any ideas for future works or just pop in to say hello.
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allzelemonz · 9 months
Text
His Boy, Part 4: Sweet
Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
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Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘handsome’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Mentions of sex Warnings: Lap sitting, kissing, marking, dancing, Reader being a father figure, domesticality, mentions of past Dutch/Hosea and Dutch/Susan, mentions of future sex Summary: Years ago, Dutch cared very deeply.
The music plays for all of camp to hear in the midst of a party. The campfire is lively with song and drink, even young John is able to sneak a bottle of beer. Kid probably deserves it after the long shooting lesson he had this morning, so you don’t do anything when you see him sneak off with it. Dutch has you pulled into his lap, his arms draped around your waist and his lips kissing at your neck as he ignores the stories flying around.
“Quite a day, my dear.” He sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You smile, watching Arthur stomp across camp with John chasing after him. “That it was.”
His hands move to your hips as the song changes to something slow. “Dance with me, darling.”
He presses a soft kiss to your jaw before you stand and offer him your hand. Together you walk out into the grass as the gang watches. Dutch puts a hand on your waist as you do his shoulder, taking each other’s hand as well. He leads, always needing that bit of control. It only takes a few moments for some others to follow, some swaying while others play around. Dutch pulls you a little closer, wrapping his arm around you as his eyes reflect firelight with every step.
“There are not many things in the world as handsome as you.” He muses in that suave voice he has.
It earns him a kiss that he eagerly returns. “I suppose you’re one of them.”
“If you say so, my dear.” He smiles, pressing his lips to yours again.
You continue to sway to the music until the song stops and turns to another sing-along. Dutch pulls away, smiling at his gang and clapping Arthur on the shoulder as he walks by. You slip your hand into his and he squeezes it before pulling you with him to stand by Susan. He talks to her while your eyes look over the little group, few of which have been here more than a month. Only Dutch’s little family is long lasting at its core.
“Retire with me, my dear?” Dutch asks, turning to you.
You look away from the fire to find his smile as his hand leaves yours to settle on the small of your back. Susan rolls her eyes, all too knowing of Dutch’s soft side. She walks to the fire and sits with Hosea, whispering something that makes him laugh.
“Already tired?” You smile as his hand guides you closer to him, pressing your bodies together once again. “You must be getting old.”
He smiles. “Havin’ two boys does that to a man.”
“You’re not the one chasing John when he acts like a wild dog.”
“He’ll settle.” Dutch rests a hand on your cheek. “It took Arthur some time too.”
“I’d bet it was Hosea chasing him.”
He chuckles. “I do my part, perhaps not the chasin’, but I teach them well enough.”
“I know.” You lean into his touch. “Arthur’s a good man.”
“John will be too.” Dutch smiles. “He has all of us to guide him.”
“Susan says he was raised by wolves.”
Dutch laughs. “He might as well have been.”
Together you look at John, struggling to get Arthur’s arm off of his head as the older brother uses him to lean on. He doesn’t find much success despite Arthur paying him no attention. You smile at the sight. You may not have been around until Arthur had already become a man under Dutch’s guidance, but over the past few months John has become a son and given their closeness, the older followed suit. 
“I am sure Miss Grimshaw will find the time to teach him manners.” Dutch chuckles.
“I have no doubt she will.”
Dutch presses a kiss to your cheek. “Come to bed with me.”
You lean your head against his with a smile. “Always, Mister Van der Linde.”
He puts his hand in yours again, walking to your shared tent. The music quiets when he closes the flaps and you sit on the cot to remove your boots.
“Allow me, my dear.” He says, kneeling in front of you.
You smile down at him as he removes your boots and his hands travel slowly up your legs until the rest on your hips. “I thought you were tired.”
He hums. “I simply wish to admire you, darling.”
You trace his jaw with your fingers and lean down to kiss him. Slowly, he stands to lean over you. He doesn’t break the kiss, even as he kicks off his own boots and pushes you both to lie down.
“When morning comes, however…” He moves to kiss your jaw, smiling as his eyes find those marks he made by the fire.
“I look forward to it.”
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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months
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hiii! i love love love your writings! i was thinking of something cute and i knew you would be the best person to write it! so what about fem!reader who joined the gang recently and its so obvi to everyone at camp she has a big fat crush on arthur! maybe shes too shy to say anything to him so the gang often tease her and him and are all like “when are y’all gonna date!?” i find it so cute imagining then two being so flustered around each other ESPECIALLY reader… shes just so shy around him!! imagine her doing some sewing with the girls and she doesn’t even realize shes repairing a tear in arthurs fav blue shirt! maybe abigails like “aww thats so nice of you repairing arthurs shirt” and shes like HUHHH🥺(im sorry this is so long i got carried away hehe)
Somethin' Stupid 
(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Fluff)
I'm working around the clock for y'all 🫶
Warnings: none y'all r just cute
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You’d found it mildly absurd how when you first came to camp upon the rear end of Arthur’s horse, how shortly after you had integrated yourself in with the camp girls, they had begun teasing you over your proximity to Arthur. When he had first saved you from a group of Murfree Brood, you’d been weary of the man before you; convinced the devil himself had sent another of his minions your way to continue brutalizing you as some sort of unscrupulous punishment. You’d nowhere to go, and nothing to call yours except the squalid chemise on your back; you hadn’t even a pair of shoes, forced to run through the woods of Roanoke Ridge on bare foot. Though upon offering you food and shelter, with no trace of forcefulness or malicious intent in his voice, you’d slowly warmed up, hesitantly allowing him to pull you up onto his horse. By the time you arrived, your arms were wrung around Arthur’s waist tightly.
You’d explain to Arthur how your family was traveling up north until you’d been ambushed, your parents being murdered and left behind, while they took you and your wagon as a prize claim. Besides the other women at camp, you had been hesitant to trust anyone of the other men besides Arthur. You often spoke to him, scarcely with the others. It was easy to find comfort in the man who had saved you, and you revered him the same way one would revere their lifelong hero. He held a reassuring aura; it told you that he’d never allow anything to happen to you again as long as he was around. 
Upon the first few days of your arrival, a few men in the camp would pass by the tent you were resting in, ogling awfully long at you with the same astound interest as a child in a zoo. You’d taken things easy, allowing yourself to rest and recover your aching body while the women took care of you. Susan Grimshaw, the motherlike figure in camp, would tend to you meticulously. She’d shoo away any men who got too close to you, including Arthur, insisting that he would be tiring you out by talking to you. 
In the small windows of time where Grimshaw wasn’t circling you like a hawk, you’d invite Arthur over and entertain lighthearted conversation. Socialization proved to be one of the most healing things, and within a few weeks you’d broken out of your withdrawn and tense state. 
The initial allegations over your sweetness for Arthur were uncalled for, almost downright insulting. The basis for such claims made no sense to you, and you argued that it only made sense for you to find so much comfort in the man who had saved you. That, much to your dismay, only fueled their teasing. Your counterpoints that you had just experienced terrors beyond comprehension fell on deaf ears, and they instead said it just made all the more sense you’d cling to Arthur. Your biggest teaser, Mary-Beth, swooned over your supposed love story, insisting she write something based on the two of you. 
Your interactions with Arthur did not help either. What you thought was normal, was picked apart by virtually everyone in camp who watched you interact. Their main point of contention was the way Arthur allowed you to leaf through his journal, even drawing you from time to time and bashfully handing you the drawings; apparently no one else was allowed near it. Whenever you spoke of a particular flower you saw, or an animal you found cute, Arthur would coincidentally happen to have a drawing of it. There were a few pages Arthur did not allow you to look at. Initially, you thought perhaps they were far too emotional or dark, but he’d already allowed you to read every dark entry in his journal already. You’d begun having your suspicions, but out of respect for him, and not wanting to break his trust for you, you did not read certain pages. Arthur would find it far too embarrassing for you to read through his pages full of sweet nothings about you.
A few of your accusers in camp were shared by Arthur, one of which being Uncle. You could practically hear him hollering at Arthur from across camp about how he needed to fess up to you and ask you out already, to which he’d receive a grumbled “shut up”. The obnoxiously loud interaction had you blushing and fidgeting uncomfortably as people looked over at you knowingly, their gazes intensifying when Arthur would walk over to you, greeting you with an embarrassed “Hey”. 
As your affections for Arthur grew, so did your coyness. You’d fidget with your hair, twirling strands around your finger. The two of you would trip over your words in a painfully kittenish attempt at conversation. Arthur would listen patiently as you tried to gather yourself after failing miserably at delivering a simple sentence because of how much you were trembling around him. And you’d grant him the same level of patience when he’d anxiously ask if you’d be okay with posing for him for a drawing. 
Sometimes you’d practice certain things to say to Arthur, fantasizing over how scenarios would play out in your head and giggling as each and every time the fantasy would end with Arthur professing his love for you. It was your main form of entertainment whenever you carried out the mundane, everyday tasks that the camp required of you. Seemingly lost in your own world, you’d think up of a million ways how you and Arthur would come to a union. And as you became engrossed in your daydreams, you’d lose focus and end up pricking yourself with your sewing needle. Your fingertips were littered with pin pricks at this point.
You’d heard a thousand times “Why don’t you ask him out already?!”. 
You could ask yourself the same things. Perhaps it was the crippling fear of rejection. Or the foreboding thought that perhaps you had misread all of his gestures towards you as romantic. But whenever he would hand a rock to you, stating that it reminded him of you, you could not help but believe ‘Wow, he really does think of me!’. You had an entire box full of small shiny rocks and pebbles next to your cot already. 
“Sure would be nice if the men could help with the laundry once in a while.” Tilly chided, watching as a few of them sat around a table drinking. 
“Don’t count on it.” Karen scoffed, laughing dryly, sewing together one of Sean’s torn trousers. “Some of ‘em don’t even do anything around camp, and they say our jobs are easy.”
The girls giggled amongst themselves. You sighed in relief over the fact you weren’t the topic of today’s conversation for once. You sifted through a basket of freshly washed and dried clothes, making your pick as to what you’d patch up today. You pulled out a bright blue button up, looking at it with a familiarity you couldn’t quite place your finger on.
Regardless, the blue called to you, and you got to work. You’d slumped over next to Abigail, surrounded by the rest of the working girls. You fell into another fantasy between you and Arthur, drowning out the spirited chatter between the girls. The tear in the shirt wasn’t a hard task, and you found the motions rather repetitive. In the months you had been there now it was a chore you had mastered. 
You held the shirt out in front of you, studying it with pride as you admired your seamless work on the repair.
“Aw look at you, so sweet on the guy that you’re fixing his clothes for him!” Abigail teased, nudging you. 
“Huh?!” You blushed.
Suddenly, the shirt was taken from your hands, and you looked up to see Arthur. 
“Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate it.” He told you gently, before walking off with it.  
“Oh!... You’re uhm… welcome.” You choked on your own words, glad that Arthur didn’t stick around long enough to hear. Naturally, you felt every single girl look at you, the levels of their giddyness felt even by you. Once Arthur was out of ear shot, they squealed and nudged you. 
“He called you sweetheart!” Mary-Beth crooned. 
“Did you see the way he was looking at you? COME ON! He wants you!” Karen laughed. 
“You can’t argue with this one!” Tilly added enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle and go along with their teasing, cupping your cheeks as they heated up. If you could, you’d fall to your side and kick your legs while squealing about how much you liked him. 
Your mind couldn’t explain it, or make it go away. You were in love.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Somethin' Stupid - Frank Sinatra
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spongeyspot · 5 months
Text
Rules
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Masterlist
Requests are [Closed]!
Also! Wanna be a named anon with an emoji?
Check this out!
PLEASE READ THESE RULES VERY CAREFULLY BEFORE REQUESTING ANYTHING!
I WRITE 18+ CONTENT! THIS BLOG IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!
🧽Characters I write for🧽
Red Dead Redemption
Arthur Morgan
John Marston
Lenny Summers
Dutch Van Der Linde
Charles Smith
Hosea Matthews
Javier Escuella
Kieran Duffy
Abigail Roberts
Sadie Adler
(I will write for almost anyone; just ask! These are just the characters I’m most comfortable with.)
🧽Characters I DON’T ALWAYS write for🧽
Micah Bell
Note: Certain ooc scenarios with certain characters I probably won’t write, and its really up to my discretion of what I’m comfortable writing. You can ask for whatever you want, but if I don’t feel comfortable, I probably won’t do it.
🧽Forbidden themes🧽
As a writer on tumblr, there are certain things that I just can’t tolerate, and they read as such.
ABSOLUTELY NOT:
Pedophilia
Age-play
Scat or Watersports
Vomit play.. whatever that is called.
basically any bodily fluids besides male or female ejaculation
Incest (Excludes Step-cest)
Race Play
Necrophilia
Ass Play (Fisting, Eating, etc.) (excluding Anal)
Anything in this list that is asked for will not be written. Your request will be ignored and deleted.
Note: If something that isn't listed is asked for, and I'm uncomfortable with the theme, I will reserve my right to refuse that prompt and add that theme to the list.
🧽Welcome Themes🧽
Character x Character (but only if the reader is also involved)
BDSM
A/B/O
Dark themes
Angst
Character Death
Daddy/Sir
Mommy/Ma'am
Blood Play
Step-cest
Corruption
Lactation
Age Difference (Characters will always be of legal age [18+])
Con Noncon
Noncon
Dubcon
Praise
Pet Names
Impact Play (Ex: Spanking, Slapping, etc. [Consensual])
Breath Play
Knife Play
Squirting
Anal
Threesomes + Moresomes
(mostly anything else that isn’t listed is welcome, but please check the restricted criteria before asking!)
Note: I tend to write more toward afab/fem presenting. But i also write gn or amab/masc. If you don’t specify which you prefer, I’ll probably just write afab because thats what I’m most comfortable with.
If you want your prompt to be a different gender/orientation please specify so I know!
🧽Other themes (SFW)🧽
Pregnancy (Can be NSFW)
Comfort
Platonic Fluff
General Fluff
Sibling/parent themes (angst or fluff, NEVER nsfw. [See restrictions])
🧽DNI🧽
Do not interact with this blog if you qualify as any of the following:
Minor
Pedophile
Racist
Homophobic
Transphobic
Ageless or Blank blog
This is a drama-free, safe environment, and I intend to keep it that way.
Thank you!
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arthurthethird · 2 years
Text
Start of troubles
Rdr2 x gn!reader
Part 4/???
Pt 1, Pt2, Pt3
(A/N) I'm back again! Sorry it took so long. I'll try not to leave it with a cliffhanger this time. Requests are open!
Also, figured out how to do the 'read more thing' :D
★★★★★
So, easy to say, you did not think you'll be the one getting robbed that day. But there you were, gun to your head, not sure if you can even move.
"Everything you have! Now! And don't you think about moving!" The man barked. You was quiet, thoughts running through your head quickly. You're an outlaw, damnit! Surely you know what to do??
Yet holding someone at a gunpoint and being at one isn't really the same. You tried to calm your breathing as the man behind you pressed the gun more on your head. "Faster!!"
Only thing you could think about is buying some time. Surely someone went to get the law already? Tho how could you buy enough time so you won't get shot?
But he wouldn't shoot you. If no one noticed yet, they would when he'd shoot. With not enough time to actually collect anything, he'd run. If he chose to stay, the law would get him. It did make sense?
You slowly turned around so the gun was pointed at your forehead. You could see the man frown, half of his face covered with a bandana. "I told you not to move!!" Then... An idea popped to your mind.
"shoot me" you smiled calmly. The man was taken aback, confused. An amateur. Not used to people not being scared of the gun. You could see it. He didn't think it through.
"...what?"
"your first robbery? Oh, no, no fool would go on a post office as their first robbery... And you're clearly not too nervous. Tho you didn't think about everything, did you?" You stated. You could see the man becoming unsure, lowering his gun slightly. You took your chance.
Grabbing the man by his wrists, twisting them in a way he dropped the gun, just like your pa taught you. Then proceeding to knee his crotch, then slamming his head against your knee when he bent over, like your ma taught you.
What they didn't teach you is that revolvers might go off when they're dropped. And that's what happened. Sure, the man was laying on the ground with a bleeding nose, but now so were you. Shot on your leg.
Luckily enough, the law appeared soon after. At first confused as to who should they take care of. The man with a bleeding nose, or the bullet wound in his leg. They figured out quickly that the robber might have a bandana on.
As they took the man away to the sheriff's, Charles ran into the building, quickly spotting you. "Y/N!" He ran up to you, dropping to his knees next to you. "Damnit... Dutch will kill you..."
"No one can kill me Charles" you chuckled before hissing in pain, grabbing your leg. Charles sighed, picking you up carefully, trying not to make the pain worse. He walked out with you, ushering you to the back of his horse as he called your's to follow. He jumped on Taima, riding back to the camp.
---
"what happened??"
"I was getting robbed"
"the law could recognize you!"
"but they didn't"
"how are you so calm about this??"
"I'm not, I'm panicking" you looked at Dutch calmly. He looked at you, clearly annoyed before sighing heavily.
"miss Grimshaw, please take care of that fool..."
"of course" dear Susan helped you get to your tent. Of course she was chewing your ear off about how foolish you were. About how you better pray you can walk. About how if she won't see you resting, she'll put another bullet in you.
Charming woman.
When you was laying on the bed, you could only look at her and give her a polite smile.
"Miss Grimshaw, as much as I think you're dear to this camp and I love hearing your voice shouting at those idiots to get them to work, right now I feel like you'd be putting another bullet in my head. But by hand, not with a gun"
"Well good! That's what you should get, you bastard" the woman scoffed, tho you did see the faint smile on her lips. "Get some rest. And I swear to God, don't even try to get up"
You just nodded as she walked off. A charm she was, that woman. Everyone loved her, everyone feared her. And you still adored her no matter how many nasty comments she said to you.
"That woman really gets on my nerves..." The person entered the room, chuckling dryly.
Everyone, except one person. You only sighed heavily.
"Hello Micah"
★★★★★
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hihomeghere · 3 months
Text
Burning Love | John Marston/Reader
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Word Count : 3k Summary : Set in the epilogue of RDR2. You stumble upon John in Blackwater after being alone for years. When he invites you to visit Beecher's Hope, will you be able to fight feelings that have been building ever since you were kids? (No Abigail and Jack, love them but you aren't in this episode) Warnings : Smut, cursing, unprotected piv, hickeys, oral reader receiving, just dirty idiots in love, reader has bio female parts
“John?” The word fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Here you were in Blackwater, a good six or seven years since that no good river boat business, and there in front of you was John Marston.
At least, he looked like him. His head snapped towards you, his dark eyes meeting yours. You swore your heart stopped, you raised your hand to cover it before sliding off of your horse.
“Y/n?” He sounded breathless, a small smile growing on his face as you started running towards him. You threw yourself into his arms, he laughed, spinning you around. “Holy shit it is you.” He said as your feet touched the ground. You looked up at his scarred face, cupping his cheek with your hand.
“John Marston.” You chuckled, unable to stop the grin spreading on your face. Tears welled up in your eyes which you quickly wiped away. God it had been years, ever since… well it had been years.
“It’s good to see you.” You chuckled lightly, punching his shoulder.
“It sure is good to see you, too. What the hell are you doing in Blackwater?”
“Well I don’t rightly know.” You shrugged, shaking your head. “I go wherever the wind takes me and it took me to Blackwater.” You said looking around the dusty street. He grinned, shaking his head slightly. His hair was shorter than before, light stubble covering his face. 
“Well if you don’t have anywhere else to go, would you like to come see Beecher's Hope?” He said with a nervous smile on his face.
“What’s Beecher's Hope?” You asked, crossing your arms.
“It's my place, somehow.” He laughed looking down at his boots.
“John Marston, homeowner?” You laughed, “Course I do!” He looked up at you, your stomach filling with butterflies as that boyish grin crossed his features.
“Well come on then!” He said, walking over to his horse. You followed him out of town, riding close behind him. It didn’t take you very long to make it to Beecher’s Hope. Well he was certainly hopeful to call it his home. It was barely a shack on a good piece of land, that was the best way you could describe it.
“Now I know it don’t look like much now.” He said, hitching up his horse.
“You’d be right.” You teased doing the same. 
“Now who’s there?” A voice called from inside the shack. Was that?
“It’s just me, Uncle.” John called, rolling his eyes. Uncle?
“Uncle! You get your lazy ass out of that shack right now!” You called jogging over to the ‘front door’
“Y/n? Well I’ll be!” Uncle said getting up from inside. You pulled him into a hug, glad to see the old man still kicking.
“Now this is how I should be treated, John, with respect.” Uncle said as he patted your back.
“She just called you a lazy ass!” John groaned.
“What are you doing hanging around this ruffian?” You teased, pulling away from Uncle’s embrace.
“Begged for my help, how could I say no?” Uncle explained, placing a hand over his heart.
“Bullshit! I never asked you for nothing old man.” John scoffed, shaking his head.
“Alright alright, I’m starving from my ride. You got anything I could cook up for us, John?” You asked, setting your hands on your hips. 
“Barely, we could probably hunt down a rabbit or two for dinner.” He sighed.
“Lead the way, cowboy.” You said walking back over to your horse. 
A rabbit or two turned into four between the two of you. Everything turned into a competition, it had been like that since you were kids. Let’s say Uncle wasn’t upset by your catch. You cooked up a nice stew for the boys before settling down for the night by the campfire. It all seemed too good to be true, being back with Uncle and John. You couldn’t lie that your heart skipped a beat every time you caught his eye. The alcohol definitely wasn’t helping with that. 
“It seems like yesterday we were sitting around a campfire just like this, listening to Javier play the guitar. Or having Hosea give us reading lessons.” You sighed bringing your bottle to your lips.
“Yeah, you were such a tattle tale.” John teased, the glow of the fire illuminating his face, casting dark shadows along his scars.
“Was not!” You scoffed, knocking back your drink. He laughed, loud and hearty. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, a blush settling on your cheeks. 
“Yes you were! Would always get me in trouble when I’d sneak off to the horses.” He shook his head a smile tugging on his lips
“That’s because Boadicea was gonna kick your head in one day, I was only looking out for you.” You snorted, nodding to yourself.
“She loved me.”
“You kidding?” You barked out a laugh, “She used to nip at you so hard you’d have teeth marks for weeks!”
“Well not everyone can be princess Van Der Linde.” He said, rolling his eyes.
“You were Dutch’s favorite long before I came around Martson.” You quipped, the alcohol easing the pain of past gang members. You both sat in silence, the crackle from the fire and far off yips from the coyotes the only sound, along with Uncle’s snoring.  
“Shit,” John sighed, “we got into a heap of trouble back then.” He grinned, bringing his bottle to his lips.
“Still do.” You added, leaning over to bump his elbow with your own.
“Still do.” He repeated, a small smile on his face. He looked at you from under the brim of his hat. You felt your face heat up under his gaze, instead of the growing fire.
“Why’d you even buy this land in the first place?” You asked, breaking eye contact as you looked around your makeshift campsite. The shack behind John, if you could even call it that, almost falling apart as Uncle slept. He sighed, staring into the cracking embers.
“Felt like I had something to prove, I guess.” He shrugged, “I never was very smart. Never had anything to my name. I had you at one point and screwed that up too.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. 
“John,” You started, your eyes flickering up from the fire. A blush settling on your cheeks. You two had been sweet on each other before, honestly you had never stopped being sweet on him. But he wasn’t ready for a real relationship, and you deserved better than being drug along for nothing. 
“No,” He stopped you, his hand held up between you two. “You were the only thing that was good in my life and I pissed it away.”
“We were young, and for some reason I’m still following your sorry ass around.” You said, shaking your head. Refusing to meet his eye, you leaned forward with your hands resting on your knees. “You ain’t got nothing to prove, you’re a good man John Marston.” You said sparing him a glance. A soft smile graced his lips before he shook his head.
“Guess you ain’t too bad either, y/n.”
“Well that was never in question.” You said bringing the bottle back up to your lips, John let out a low chuckle. You both stared at the fire, it was easier than looking at each other.
“Will you-“ John started, his lip in between his teeth, “Will you stay with us here?” You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. You looked up, pretending to mull it over.
“Until a better offer comes along.” You shrugged, laughing as John shoved your shoulder.
“Don’t have to be such a smartass.”
“Oh I think I do.” You grinned, raising your bottle. He rolled his eyes, a playful grin on his face. “You’re smiling.”
“Am not.” He said turning away. You shook your head, staring down at the crackling fire. 
“What did you do for all those years, were you alone?” You asked, afraid of his answer. Although you couldn’t blame him if he hadn’t been, many nights you wished you had someone warming your bed, although it was always John you were dreaming of.
“Bounced around, ranch to ranch, just-“ he let out a long sigh, “Just trying to stay out of trouble.” You nodded looking up at him.“What about you?” He said, crossing his arms.
“Nothing really, hung low for a while, a year or two.” You shook your head, you honestly couldn’t remember what it was like in the early days. You had never been on your own before then, not that you could remember at least. “It was hard for a long time, but I had good teachers.” You smiled softly, feeling more melancholy the more you spoke. “Spent some of my time trying to make an honest living but you know how that goes.” You chuckled while taking a long drink from your bottle. 
“You can say that again.” John chuckled, “Did you have any fellas in that time?” He asked, shifting his eyes from the fire to yours. You tried hiding your smirk.
“Nah, none that piqued my interest.” You smirked, unable to keep it at bay.
“Well that’s good to hear.” He chuckled to himself, taking a drink.
“And why is that?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Could he feel the same about you? He went silent, lowering his head so his face was covered by the brim of his hat. He let out a dry cough, clearing his throat.
“Oh, well- I just mean-“ He sighed, you giggled softly looking up at him.
“John-“
“I’m a damn fool,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “I finally got you back and I’m too chicken shit to do anything about it.” He said, running a hand down his face. Your heart started to beat faster at his small confession. You set your bottle down, walking over to him. His wide eyes met yours as you sat yourself down on his lap.
“Good thing I ain’t.” You said taking his hat off and setting it to the side. You leaned forward, rubbing your nose against his. Your breaths intermingled as you looked into his eyes. He took the initiative, leaning forward and capturing your lips with his own. His arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, your clothed core rubbing against his crotch. You felt a moan rumble in his chest before it slipped out his lips. You smirked, your tongue swiping across his lower lip. He eagerly opened his mouth, his own tongue entering your mouth. He tasted like smoke and whisky, an intoxicating combination.
“Darlin, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He mumbled against your lips, before moving to kiss along your jaw. 
“I know John, god I’ve wanted you for so long.” You breathed, running your fingers through his dark hair. He latched onto your throat, sucking a spot that would definitely bruise. You let out a soft moan, gripping his hair tightly. He thrust his hips upwards against your clothed cunt, causing a higher pitched moan to leave your mouth.
“Shh, don’t want Uncle to hear us.” John said softly, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, he rubbed his thumb against your stomach. His movements shot straight to your core. You bit your lip to stop a whine, as you rubbed yourself against his growing bulge.
“Fucking take me and stop teasing.” You growled pulling him up to kiss him. He smirked against your lips, slipping his hands under your ass as he lifted you up in his arms. He walked you over to his tent, setting you down on his bedroll. You made quick work with the buttons on your shirt, working them through the eyelets. You pulled your arms out of your shirt, removing your cotton undershirt. You sneaked a peek at John, who was pushing his pants down. Your eyes raked over his body, his union suit leaving little to the imagination. You pulled off your pants, left only in your bloomers. 
“Fuck darlin.” John whispered his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer to him. He dipped his head to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. His other hand kneaded your breast. 
You laid your head back on the bedroll, a soft gasp exiting your mouth. He sat up, sinking his fingers into your bloomers before pulling them down. His finger dipped into your wet folds.
“Mmm,” You moaned, biting down on your lip. He smirked again, pushing his index finger into your warm heat. He pumped it in and out, his eyes never leaving your face as you fought the urge to moan. His thumb rubbed against your clit, making small circles on your nub. He added his middle finger, curling it inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head and the coil inside you tightened. Your nails dug into his arm, as your pussy clenched around his fingers. That familiar wave of bliss washing over you.
“Yeah that's right sweetheart.” John cooed, still pumping his fingers in and out of you. 
“John-“ You breathed pulling him closer, he removed his fingers sucking them clean.
“Yeah sweetheart?” He said as he unbuttoned his union suit. Pulling his arms out, as he pushed it down his thighs. Your eyes raked over his body, scars from bullet wounds and cuts littered his body. Your mouth watered at the sight as your gaze followed the patch of hair from his chest down to his pelvis. 
“Fuck me.” You huffed, propping yourself up on your elbow as your legs fell open.
“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, taking his thick cock in his hand. Pumping it twice before nosing his dick to your opening. He pushed himself into you slowly, a groan working its way out of his chest as he hung his head. “God damn you’re tight.” He hissed, his hands gripping your hips with a vice like grip as he slowly pushed his hips forward. 
“John.” You whined, gripping his forearms as he seated himself in you fully. You had never been so full in your life, he was so deep you swore his tip was kissing your cervix.
“I know darlin-“ He rasped, slowly pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. Your breath knocked out of your chest as he picked up the pace.
“Ah- oh John!” You yelped before his hand covered your mouth. He moved your leg to sit on top of his hips and he leaned forward, resting his forearms next to your head.
“Feel good?” He grunted, squeezing his eyes close as he let out a hissed breath. 
“Fuck- feels so good.” You whispered, tears starting to well up in your eyes. His hips met yours with every thrust, the sound of slapping skin filling the small tent. He grabbed one of your thighs, lifting it up onto his shoulder. You swore you saw stars at the new position. It had been so long since anyone had had you like this, and John was playing your body like a fucking fiddle. Every thrust punched the air out of your lungs as somehow he went deeper. 
“Shit darlin-“ He huffed, his hot breath on your ear as he bent over you, “Squeezing me so good.” He groaned, nipping at your ear.
“Oh- John I-“ You cried, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your toes were curling as the pressure built inside your stomach. 
“You close honey? You gonna come?” He cooed, kissing your neck, one of his hands moved down your body to your already sensitive bud. He flicked it once, maybe twice before your orgasm came crashing down. You mewled, trying to stay quiet as John wiped away your tears.
“That’s it, that’s it.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he strained his neck up. “Where do you want it?” He said as he sat up, still rutting his cock in and out of you.
“Inside.” You breathed, wrapping your legs around his hips as you pulled him closer.
“Oh- darlin I-“ He let out a low moan as he spilled inside of you, his hips twitching as he pumped his cum inside your heat . You let out a small sigh, letting your body go limp under him. He cradled your head in his hand, kissing you softly as he pulled his cock out of you. He sighed against your lips before laying down beside you. Pulling a blanket over both of your bodies. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him.
“I’m not letting you go this time.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. 
“Good.” You said holding his arm against you, as you drifted off feeling his cum trickle down your thighs.
-
“Jesus what is that mark on your neck?” Uncle said his hand resting on his hip as you blushed from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.
“Nothing.” you said quickly, covering your neck with your hand.
“Good lord is that a hickey!” Uncle said recoiling at the sight, “Now who the hell would give you…” He trailed off his gaze shifting to John who was drinking his coffee. 
“What?” John said, lowering the mug, a smug smile plastered on his face.
“Disgusting.” Uncle cringed walking away from the both of you back to the shack. 
“Just had to mark me up, now didn’t you?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked at John. He smirked shaking his head as he walked over to you 
“You’re mine, everyone should know it.” He shrugged, pulling you into a searing kiss. 
Maybe you could deal with a mark or two. 
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ashs-cardboard-box · 1 month
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Filthy heathen
~ Susan Grimshaw/Male!reader
~ Familial
~ 1k words
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“God damn it, Grim-! Would you quit that?!” You hiss as Susan pulls a comb through your unkempt hair. Having you sit down on a small wooden stool in the middle of her tent to be able to actually get through, in her words, the hornet's nest you call hair. Your knees practically tucked to your chest, balling your fists tightly around the denim of your jeans.
“Maybe if you’d actually listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place! Now sit still, boy. It ain’t that bad..” Susan huffs, placing a hand on the back of your skull as she tugs the comb through your hair once again. You had a habit of not keeping up with your well-being as often as you should, much like most of the men around camp. Unfortunately, Susan, your mother figure, and objectively the scariest son-of-a-gun around camp, decided to start with you.
Gritting your teeth as you screw your eyes shut tightly, already feeling a headache forming from her rough treatment. Despite being a grown ass man now, you knew Susan from when you were a boy. Having been picked up by Hosea from off the streets and, rather irresponsibly, given a gun. Susan taught you basic skills such as how to actually take care of yourself, read, write, sew, clean…etc. She was strict and very much no-nonsense, but she had a soft spot for you. You had gotten caught up in your tasks after changing camps again, completely forgetting about yourself to focus on the gang.
“You better thank your lucky stars that I ain’t just shavin’ the damn thing like John when he got lice..” She grumbles under her breath, but it was an empty threat. Even if the words never left her mouth, she would rather go through the effort to see you happy and confident than cut corners and shave your head.
You merely roll your eyes in response, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Susan. “I mean it, boy! I oughta drag your ass to the creek ‘n let the boar have a go at ya,” she chides, tugging the comb through your hair again to prove her point. You wince quietly before muttering a small “yes, ma’am” in response. The last person you wanted to get into an argument with was her. She was a whole new level of terrifying. Dutch led the gang, sure, but she was the true enforcer behind it all. Practically keeping everyone square and glued together. Naturally taking on the role of the gang’s arbiter.
“Good boy,” Susan sighs, finally getting to a point where it wouldn’t hurt as much to brush. Her hand curled around the comb as the other gently strokes your hair, both as a comforting gesture and to feel over any knots she might’ve missed. You were the closest thing she’s had to a son in her life, ever since her fiance passed. She treated you like her own flesh and blood, but that’s not to say she wasn’t strict with you as well. Often showing you more care and concern over anyone else.
You slowly open your eyes again, only feeling the occasional painful tug on your hair with each new knot found. Absentmindedly glancing across Susan’s tent silently, your hands tucked away in your lap, feeling a bit awkward in the small stool she had assigned you. Your shoulders slouched forward slightly. Despite the stubborn pride, you appreciated her efforts.
“You ever get fed up with keepin’ everyone in place, Grim..?” You ask curiously, your voice quiet as to not disturb the peaceful quietness that has finally overtaken the tent. “I mean, when you ain’t doing chores ‘round camp, you’re making sure everyone else is pulling their weight.” You add. Attempting to turn your head to look over your shoulder to try to glance at Susan, only to feel her hands on both sides of your head, turning you to face forward again. She remains silent for a long moment. The only thing heard is the teeth of the comb against the strands of your hair, and whatever dumbassery goes on across camp.
“Someone’s gotta do it. Y’all’d rot in your own filth if you could,” she responds pointedly. While she didn’t say it, it was implied that she often got tired of it. You couldn’t blame her. Having to deal with whatever new bullshit the next day inspires. Be it one of Dutch’s grand ideas, someone getting drunk and violent, or just plain laziness. 
You nod slowly in understanding and don’t say anything more. Your eyes flick down to your boots at the entrance of her tent, of which she made you take off. Shifting uncomfortably on the stool, feeling your muscles ache from being in such an odd position for so long. Your knees bent, your torn socks against the wooden floor of Susan’s tent. Your chest almost touching your thighs, leaning forward subtly after having your hair tugged so many times.
Susan leans over your shoulder to drop the comb down in your lap, silently telling you to hold onto it. Looking down, you pick up the comb as if it were a snake going to bite you. Your palm clasped around the back, but avoiding the metal teeth. Your other hand dragging the pad of your thumb across it, feeling the grooves between each prong.
She slicks your hair back with her fingers, grabbing all the strands from around your ears and forehead and pushing it all to the back of your skull. Running her hands through your hair to double and triple check for any more knots. Not finding any, she leans forward and places a gentle kiss onto the crown of your head before standing up straight again.
“Now, you head down to the lake ‘n properly wash up, ya hear? Take your muddy boots down with you.” She chides lightly, causing you to look over your shoulder towards her with a warm smile. Nodding softly in response before slowly rising to your feet. Groaning as you feel your joints audibly crack and pop. Giving Susan her comb back as you step closer to her, placing an appreciative kiss onto your mother figure’s cheek before turning on your heel, picking up your muddied boots, and walking out of her tent.
“And don’t come back ‘til the water runs clear!”
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she was burning a hole into my head and I was legally bound
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reddeadzen · 10 months
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Request Rules
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Request Status: Open
Masterlist
AO3: click me!
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Fandoms I Write For:
Well, considering the account, just Red Dead Redemption here!
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What I Will Write:
[character] x reader/oc - I won't write for anyone's specific oc, but you get the idea. Most likely gender-neutral or AFAB. Though, I prefer just regular character stuff and not reader/oc works
Angst - any sort of severity
Hurt/comfort
Hurt/no comfort
Sad endings
Dark topics
Triggering topics - I have no relevant triggers, so dw about the topic
Some canon divergence and AUs
Gore, blood, violence - no limits really
Fluff
DDDNE/3DNE
Non-sexual nudity
Drug, nicotine, and alcohol use
Profanity - I don't use GD
Mentions of mental health disorders
Challenges - like alphabets
18+ age gaps
One-shots, headcanons, scenarios, interactions, etc.
S*icide, self-harm topics - NO romanticizing
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What I WON'T Write:
R*pe fantasies/kinks/etc.
Inc*st - this includes John x Arthur or John/Arthur x Dutch/Hosea
Anything p*do, underage, proship, etc.
Z*ophilia
Abortion
Non-canon [character] x [character]
Poems
Poly ships - just don't know how to write them
Crossovers
Underage romance
Pregnancy
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Character Preferences:
Hosea Matthews
Susan Grimshaw
Orville Swanson
Dutch Van der Linde
Arthur Morgan
Kieran Duffy
Charles Smith
Javier Escuella
John Marston
Sean MacGuire
Mary-Beth Gaskill
Lenny Summers
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Things to Remember:
English is my first language - if I write anything in a different language, please feel free to correct me on something!
I put TWs and CWs on stuff, but I don't take obscure CW/TW requests, just general stuff
Anything included in RDR like blood, violence, etc. can and will be included on this page
I won't necessarily do every request! It's never gonna be anything personal, I may just have no ideas or am uncomfy with the general topic
NOT spoiler free
I don't post full things here, just on ao3, but I do link them here
As stated previously, I prefer to write just for canon characters, not ship or x reader/oc stuff
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