lordofthecherubs

[lordofthecherubs]

Hello Euphoria [Part 2]

“You can tell me how you’re really feeling,” He said, attempting to meet your eyes. “I promise.”

His words helped to push you in the direction you needed to go with his conversation. Ripping off the bandaid. Confessing.

Tell him how you’re really feeling.

“I like you, Arthur.” 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Slight Exhibitionism. Slow burn burned. Miscommunication.

The morning sun had a particular way of forcing its beams of light into a room, abruptly waking whoever inhabited it up with a striking light to their face. Along with that, the sound of people chatting and wagons moving product along a muddy ground seemed to be nonstop once the day started. Clearly, the gang wanted to get an early start to their chores, otherwise you wouldn’t have been disturbed in the midst of your sleep.

Just five more minutes, you pleaded with yourself.

Opting to keep your eyes closed after having been nearly blinded by the rays the sun had provided earlier, your bearings began coming to you, despite your efforts to push them off and remain in a blissful state of slumber. Turning yourself on your side, you felt a gentle warmth in your bed beside you. This feeling, while unfamiliar to your usual morning routine, was not unpleasant. Leaning into it, you sighed out contently in your attempt to return to dreamland, hardly noticing the sound of quiet breathing filling your ears behind you. 

Breathing?

Eyes shooting open with a newfound sense of urgency, you quickly sat up in the bed, scanning your surroundings. The space you were in was foreign to you. For starters, it had four walls and a roof over your head, far different from the usual scene of your tent nearly falling off its post over your makeshift bed. Not only that, but there was decor lain about— a dresser on one far corner of the room, and a nightstand that had a lamp along with an all too familiar hat beside where you were previously sleeping. 

Then, your eyes met soft chestnut hair. Was that… Arthur?

The cowboy, still deep into slumber, let out faint puffs of air with every breath he took. His skin appeared smooth to the touch, and your hand itched to reach out and find out if there was any truth to that thought. However, your body had different plans. All at once, you felt an onslaught of pain and discomfort, bringing back vague memories of the night before. Most of which were blurry, and rather snapshots of a moment instead of a reeling recollection of what had happened. All of this, with the added twinge of pain in your head and stomach, made you grow dizzy where you sat. 

Last you remembered, Dutch was going on about how the camp was appearing sluggish due to the sweltering heat. Then, he’d sent you and Arthur out to Valentine’s saloon. Once you got there, Arthur ordered you a revolting drink; just the thought of it alone was enough to make you wince as your stomach turned. 

The puzzle pieces began to connect in your still aching head.

You settled on putting the blame of your current predicament on having had too much to drink. Though you typically weren’t much of a drinker, you figured there had to be an underlying reasoning behind why you bit off more than you knew you could chew. 

Another glance at the cowboy beside you. There was no doubt that his presence had something to do with it. 

While you weren’t the kind of person who cared too deeply what others thought of you, you’ve always wanted to be someone that Arthur thought highly of. He was a noble man, by your standards. The way you felt towards him wasn’t anything like the way you felt for others in the gang. Yes, you cared about them as if they were your own family, but with Arthur, it was different. He was always the person that looked out for you, even when you assured him you could handle yourself. There was a certain softness you had when it came to him, and if you weren’t careful, it would consume you whole.

With the minutes passing by in your lost thoughts, the cowboy stirred in his sleep, looking as though he might wake up. Suddenly, you were filled with the overwhelming urge to be anywhere but here. 

It’s not as if you didn’t want to be around him. God, you’d give everything to be with him forever if he’d have you. But, you felt embarrassed of yourself, and of what you possibly did the night before. 

As your eyes averted to the space between your bodies, you knew Arthur hadn’t gotten into bed with you on his own will, especially while you were under the influence of alcohol. That wasn’t the kind of man he was. That’s why you liked him. 

Slowly, you pushed the covers of the bed away from yourself, urging yourself to get over the sticky feeling of yesterdays clothes as you attempted to crawl to the foot of the bed undetected. This task proved itself to be easier said than done, especially in the case that the person you were trying not to be detected by had his wits about him at all times, even in his sleep. Surprisingly, you made it to your desired location outside of the bed without too much disruption, looking around the bed for your shoes as you readied yourself to leave. 

While you reached for the pair of boots that you assumed Arthur had taken off for you after you’d fallen asleep, a gravelly voice sounded behind you, causing you to pause your actions and freeze on the spot like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You awake already, cowpoke?”

Of course, how could you turn your back on a man such as Arthur Morgan and expect he wouldn’t notice you there? Turning your head in the direction of the voice, you were met with the sharp feeling of regret— and a twinge of heat boiling in your stomach. The cowboy sat upwards on the bed, strong arms carrying his weight as they pushed against the bed to aid him in this action. His hair was messy in a way that was perfect at the same time, and his eyes were half-lidded and tired, just as they had been the day before when Dutch woke him up for this mission.

This mission, that lead you to the situation you were in now, standing across from Arthur with your shoes in your hands and a guilty look on your face. To someone on the outside looking in, it would appear that something completely different had happened here. Perhaps they’d even expect you to waltz out of the building in a walk of shame. 

When met with silence as an answer to his question, Arthur spoke up again.

“Are you… leavin’?”

Your heart couldn’t help but break at the faint sound of disappointment in his tone. He wanted you to stay. 

In the past, you would have brushed off any suggestions of Arthur making an advance towards you. In your mind, it just wouldn’t make sense. How could he want to be anything more than friends with you? You were just another member of the gang, it was highly possible he didn’t see you as any different than he saw someone like Hosea or Tilly. Regardless of this, there was no denying those impressions of flirtatious nature now. Not when he continued to sit in the bed, looking as beautiful as he did, without any attempt to hide the look of dismay on his face. 

Arthur was a good man. In all likelihood, he was the best man you’d ever known in your life. You trusted him far more than you’d trust anyone else. He looked out for you, made sure you were doing alright, didn’t let anyone in the gang pick on you. So why was it so hard for you to face him right now? What was stalling you from just telling him how you really feel? 

The sound of movement signaled to you that he was getting out of bed himself, and you realized you still hadn’t said anything to him yet. Swallowing down feelings of anxiety and bashfulness, you opened your mouth to speak.

“I…” As the word left your mouth, your thoughts lingered in your mind. What could you say to him? Thanks for taking care of me while I was blackout drunk, Arthur. Sorry I can’t muster up the courage to say anything to you right now. Maybe later?

That would never work.

“If you’re worryin’ that you did anything you might regret, there’s no need.” Arthur sighed out, reaching to grab his hat as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. “It might not seem like it, but I wouldn’t—“

“I know you wouldn’t, Arthur.”

Finally, he looked at you again. Though, he didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for you to continue in your words.

“I just wanted to thank you. For taking care of me— I mean.” You nervously said, scratching the back of your neck as a heat of embarrassment began to rise.

Whatever you said must have been amusing, because Arthur let out a laugh as he stood up from the bed. “Thank me? All I did is what you asked me to do. No sense in thankin’ me for that.”

As the cowboy put his boots on, you couldn’t help finding yourself back in your usual place of staring. Every action done by Arthur was captivating to you. And, you’re sure the long drag of his fingers against the leather is not done on purpose, the same way the sudden weakness in your knees was not an instinctual reaction. Shaking your head free of thoughts that did not benefit the current situation, you tried to round up something to say to him.

But it was too late.

Already outside the front door of the room, Arthur cleared his throat. 

“I best get goin’ then…”

Before you could even implore him to stay, the cowboy was gone. There was a sudden coldness to the room now that he was no longer in it, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself softly. Probably one of the closest opportunities you ever had to tell Arthur how you truly feel, and you blew it by daydreaming about him when he was right in front of you. Perhaps if you had said something, it wouldn’t be a daydream anymore. It would be real. 

That statement alone was enough to get the gears turning in your head again. 

Maybe it didn’t have to end there.

With a newfound energy despite your hangover, you quickly made your way out of the room, using the railings of the stairwell to help guide you down the stairs and out of the hotel as fast as your legs could carry you. Once through the front door, you scanned the area for any traces of Arthur. Just outside the saloon, your horse stood alone. But, there were fresh footprints in the shape of a horseshoe that had traveled away from the spot next to it— a sign to which direction the cowboy had taken to vacate the premises. For once, you were thankful for the muddy streets that Valentine provided, hopping onto the back of your horse to follow the tracks wherever they would take you.

This process, while somewhat difficult, was not impossible. Almost immediately you noticed that Arthur had taken a different route than usual to exit the city. You willed your horse to keep a steady, yet swift pace to keep up with the path. If he was going back to the camp, you wanted to catch him before he got there. For the sake of him as well as yourself, the conversation you wanted to have was not one either of you would be too keen on having in front of the rest of the gang. 

As the sound of vendors and chit-chat began to pale in comparison to your horses footsteps hitting the ground, you knew you were making progress in your mission to find Arthur. Wherever he was going, it was not close to camp. For a slight moment, you felt that perhaps this was a bad idea. Maybe, you had really upset him. Maybe he didn’t want to see you at all. 

Shaking those thoughts from your head, you scanned the dirt beneath you for more telltale signs of where the cowboy had gone. Working along the path, you found yourself in the Heartlands, where previously muddy footprints were now faded into slight indentions on dirt roads. He couldn’t be too far now, you were only just minutes behind him if anything.

Suddenly, a familiar noise filled your ears. A sound only someone as observant as yourself would have picked up on, the particular way Arthur urged his horse to continue moving forward when it sensed that there was some kind of threat around. Silently, you thanked whichever God above who was responsible for this distraction along the road, because there was no telling how much longer this semi-chase would have gone on without it.

“Easy boy!”

Just as you rounded the corner of a small hill, you couldn’t help but beam at the sight before you. Arthurs hat sat on the ground along with him, evidently having been kicked off his horse due to whatever had spooked it. The cowboy, looking as defeated as he had prior to leaving the hotel, groaned from his spot on the dirt path at the sight of his horse continuing off without him, whinnying as it went.

This was your chance.

Slowly, you tugged on the reigns of your horse to urge it to continue forward leisurely, hoping that whatever had scared of Arthurs wouldn’t do the same to your own next. 

“Need a hand?”

At the sound of your voice, Arthur snapped his head in your direction, almost as if it was a second nature response to your presence. For a moment, he eyed the outstretched hand that came from where you sat on top of your horse, a small smile on your face. Had he not been so aware of his actions around you, he would have let on how weak even a grin in his direction by you would make him. So, instead of revealing that side to you just yet, he opted for reaching over to grab his hat on the dirt beside him, placing it on his head with a soft sigh. 

Then, he met your eyes.

There was no world where he didn’t give in to you.

“Suppose so.”

With this, Arthurs calloused hands reached forward and grabbed hold of your soft, yet firm ones, using it as leverage to ease himself upwards from the ground. Once he had finally made it off the ground, the two of you were detached— perhaps far too soon for either of your likings.

“Must’ve been a snake or somethin’.” He quietly said, hands resting comfortably on his belt as he looked in the direction the creature had run off to.

“Can’t say I blame him, the way those things slither around is real creepy.”

Finally, he smiled. There was that playful Arthur you knew.

The cowboy watched as you suddenly moved from your spot on your horse, sitting on the back of it, patting the now empty saddle in front of you. Clearly, he had confusion written all over his face, because you laughed and opened your mouth to explain to him what you had in mind.

“Listen, you and I both know just how fast that horse can run. Just ask the countless times I’ve watched you fire at the O’Driscolls while making ground at the same time,” You paused in your commentary when he half-smiled while shaking his head. “You can take mine for a ride to find him. Promise she won’t give you too much trouble.”

Arthur didn’t immediately give in to your offer, remaining where he stood as if debating on whether or not this was truly a good idea. Slowly, he reached for the saddle to help himself onto the horse, uncertainty filling his face. He knew you had a point, this was the smartest way to go about catching that horse before someone else did. But, was it a wise to be this close to you again after last time? 

From where you sat behind him, you couldn’t stop the smile that made its way to your face. Having this proximity to Arthur again would give you the opportunity you needed to fix things; and maybe even gather the courage to bring up another topic that’s been weighing in on your mind.

“So, while I’m fightin’ those damned O’Driscoll’s, you’re sat pretty watchin’ me?”

“Guess you’re a good view.” You fired back, a laugh escaping your lips.

The cowboy smiled to himself and moved his hands to tightly grasp onto the reigns of your horse, readying himself to take off. Though he didn’t say anything, the way he looked back to make sure you were ready signaled to you that you should probably hold onto something in order to not find yourself in a similar situation to the one you spotted Arthur in. It had been a while since you rode on the back of someone else’s horse, so you paused for a moment to decide your next move.

You could clutch onto the back of the saddle, though it wouldn’t provide you much support. Arthur must have sensed your hesitation, because in one bold move, he wordlessly reached behind him and grabbed onto one of your hands, placing it on his midsection for you to hold onto. When you were both settled, Arthur whipped the reigns, setting off to your desired location.

With the sound of the breeze blowing while your horse gained speed, you couldn’t help but notice that this ride was similar to the one into Valentine the day before. Quiet. But the silence was comfortable, almost too much so. Arthur whistled a couple times with each area he passed. You took in the way you could see him up close from where you sat, admiring the way his eyes were intently scanning every hidden spot his horse could have possibly ran off to. The still early sunlight of the day gave a warm look to his back, appearing as if it was just asking for you to lay your head on it. 

But you couldn’t. It already seemed to be a stretch to be holding onto him the way that you were, and you didn’t want to mess anything up— again.

***

As the time passed in your newfound mission to track down Arthurs horse, it appeared that he was growing uneasy. You assumed it was from the unexpected amount of time the task was taking, a pang of guilt filling your chest. The way things were now, it wasn’t looking as if the animal was going to be found anytime soon. 

The feeling of unrest began to consume you. The once comfortable quiet of this ride had grown uncomfortable with time. Possibly because you’ve had time to sit with your thoughts, and they were beginning to itch to be released from your head.

You sighed.

“Alright back there?” Arthur asked, turning his head to look at you momentarily.

All you did was nod in response, turning your gaze away from him. You feared that if you opened your mouth to say anything at all, you’d let slip what was really on your mind.

Arthur, seemingly unsatisfied with your answer, slowed your horses previously steady pace to a stop. “I could take you back to the camp, if you’d like. This could take a while—“

“Can we just take a break for a moment?” You cut him off, your voice strained.

Pulling the reigns, Arthur led the horse off the path and onto a shady part of the woods that had surrounded you. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you analyzed the area. It was fairly quiet, and decently well hidden from the rest of the public. There was an abandoned makeshift camp left behind, some crates and a charred fire filling the space. Had you not stopped when you did, you would have missed it. 

When you looked back up, you saw Arthur tying up your horse on a tree towards the entrance of the small encampment, giving the animal a pat on its side before turning to make his way towards you.

At this, you shot your eyes back at the ground, a sudden interest in the leaves and grass that filled it.

His footsteps approached. 

“You sure you’re alright?” The cowboy asked, watching as you fidgeted where you stood. 

This wasn’t an occurrence out of the ordinary. Arthur, being the man that he is, often asked you about you wellbeing. Most of the time, you replied with a generic answer of assuring him you were fine— regardless of how readable your true feelings were. Then, he would have to pry to get you to talk, just as he was now. 

Glazed over eyes met his piercing ones.

“Oh, cowpoke—“

 “I’m okay, it’s just,” You paused, catching your breath in order to calm down. “I think there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You think?”

You looked back down at the ground at this response, wanting nothing more than to just sink into the dirt beneath you. 

Raising your head to continue with what you had to say, Arthur was suddenly far closer than he had been before, nearly towering over you. Had you not known the softer side of the cowboy, you would have cowered in fear at the sight. 

Reaching forward, he put a hand on your shoulder.

“You can tell me how you’re really feeling,” He said, attempting to meet your eyes. “I promise.”

Nodding your head, his words helped to push you in the direction you needed to go with his conversation. Ripping off the bandaid. Confessing.

Tell him how you’re really feeling.

“Arthur,” You began, staring at his chest in front of you. “I don’t know how to describe the way I feel about you. But, I can describe the way I feel around you.” 

He remained silent.

“You just… make me feel really warm. A type of warmth I’ve never felt before. Like a tight hug, or a heavy blanket. And I,” Finally, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, noticing the way he intensely stared back at you. “I feel different about you than I do with anyone else. I can’t really put my finger on why, but I’ve got an idea.”

“What’s that?” He softly asked, urging you to continue on.

“I like you, Arthur.” The statement was too vague for him to make any kind of assumption on, and he stepped forward to place both of his hands on your shoulders.

“Please.” He whispered. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t mind being with you the way we were this morning. Close, comfortable, together.”

That seemed to be enough for him.

In an instant, Arthur lurched forward, connecting his lips with yours in a heated and desperate kiss. The suddenness of the movement caused you to hesitate momentarily, but once you got your bearings, the two of you slotted your lips together like pieces of a puzzle. A perfect, long-awaited puzzle.

The cowboys hands made their way up to your face, holding onto your jaw on both sides to help the embrace grow deeper, wanting to be as close to you as possible for him. This action, caused you to whine out quietly, struggling to keep up with his movements despite desperate efforts to try.

Upon hearing this noise leave your lips, something ignited inside of Arthur. He wanted that. He wanted to hear more of that. While he could tell you weren’t entirely inexperienced, it seemed like you needed a bit of guidance through this. So, he used his tongue to push against your lips, urging them to part for his entrance into your mouth. 

The sound of the leaves blowing in the wind along with heavy, labored breathing was all that filled this old encampment. It felt like you were the only two people in the world. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. More whines left your lips as you pressed your body against Arthurs subconsciously, adding to the warm feeling that was growing in your abdomen. 

“Arthur…” You said, finally pulling away to catch your breath, an anguished look on your face. You were drunk on him from only moments of kissing, and he knew it. 

Humming in response, he moved his efforts downward to attack your neck with kisses, lingering on certain spots for longer than others when he got the telltale reaction of your breathing hitching.

What he had not expected, though, was for the sudden roll of your hips into his slightly bent thigh.

Pausing his movements, he looked at your face again. Your cheeks were flushed a dark shade of crimson, and your pupils were blown wider than he’d ever seen before. 

“Please,” You begged. “I need you.”

Arthur thought back to the night before, when you pleaded with him to sleep in the bed with you. Your behavior now was quite similar to then. Only now, instead of feeling his heart grow soft in his chest, he felt himself grow hard in his pants. Despite the fact that you were quite literally asking for him to take things a step further, he couldn’t help the uncertain feeling in the back of his mind. Was now the best time? Did you really want this? Was any of this real at all?

Your hand grabbed hold of his wrist, leading him to a spot in the abandoned camp where a thin blanket laid on the ground. Then, you lowered yourself onto it, laying yourself down while looking up at Arthur with hazy eyes.

He wondered why he ever even bothered to think he could deny you of anything.

Quickly, Arthur kneeled down to where you were. Then, he moved to lean on top of you, taking in the way you looked. Whatever part of him that wanted to take this slow was cut off by the way you wrapped your legs around his midsection, locking his hips in with yours as he began to grind himself against you— a groan leaving his lips. With how euphoric he was already feeling, he wouldn’t last long like this. He needed to be inside you.

The cowboys hand hovered over the belt of your pants, slowing his movements to meet your eyes again. Silently, he asked for consent, not moving his hand any further until you nodded your head in reassurance.

Instantly, your clothes were practically ripped off your body, revealing a soaking wet cunt to the eyes of the man before you. In all honesty, he could have devoured you whole right then and there and been happy. But, he knew what you wanted. He knew what you needed.

Rough fingers met the swollen bundle of nerves before him, rubbing gently at it to gauge a reaction. It was evidently the right move, due to the way your back immediately arched, a soft moan escaping your lips at the same time. Then, taking two large fingers, he pushed them inside of you, stretching you out and preparing you for him. With how slick you were, his fingers glided in and out of you without much struggle, making his mind run wild with thoughts.

“Please, Arthur.” You begged once again, reaching an arm out towards him to pull his face towards yours. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Pulling his long fingers out of your heat, he reached down in a similar fashion to removing your own clothes, tugging at his own pants to release his throbbing length from their confines in his drawers. It was almost sad, how desperate it looked, already leaking and eager to be inside you.

Then, he used his hand to angle himself at your entrance, already feeling you clench around nothing before he could fill the empty space inside you. With one movement, he slid into your cunt, both of you gasping out at the feeling. Inch by inch, he admired the way you took him, a strangled but pleasant look on your face. Through the process, he reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, smiling softly.

“You sure are pretty, cowpoke.” He muttered, still sinking himself into you.

In response to his compliment, you tightened around him, a reaction not entirely in your control.

Arthur laughed. “You like when I call you pretty, sweetheart?” His voice nearly a purr now, testing the waters of what you liked.

All you could do was bite your lip and nod desperately, digging your nails into his buff arms from where they caged you in on either side of your head.

While he would have preferred an actual response from you, he decided to let things be on your terms this time. 

As his length was fully bottomed out inside you, he allowed you a few moments to adjust, regardless of the voice in his head screaming at him to move. 

Your eyes were screwed shut as you got used to the feeling, head thrown to the side as the slight pain of the stretch began to subside.

Then, wordlessly, you gave him a signal to move by rolling your own hips up to meet his, the unexpected movement making the man nearly fall forward on his elbows above you.

“Jesus, cowpoke, you’re going to be the death of me.” Arthur groaned out, now snapping his hips forward to experimentally thrust into you. Then, he did it again. And again, and again, until he set a steady pace inside of you.

The feeling was somehow more amazing than you had imagined. Restless nights of dreams about this exact scene began to fill your head, only to be crushed away by the real deal. Arthur’s movements were relentless, but at the same time, he was still somehow gentle with you. 

The sound of both of your moans filled the area, and yours only got louder when Arthur reached down to rub at your clit again, his strong fingers creating a feeling that was extremely intense for you. 

“A-ah—, Arthur…” You managed to whimper out. 

“What is it?” He said back, somehow managing to sound composed despite the feeling of how tightly you wrapped around him.

“C-close.” You sighed out, eyes watering at the feeling of an approaching climax. 

Speeding up his movements not only inside of you, but upon the bud he was creating friction with outside of you, Arthur lowered his lips down to beside your ear. From there, he whispered, “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

And that, you did. Your vision went blurry, and the intense feeling you had experienced before was suddenly ripping through you like a tidal wave, your back arching off the ground and your jaw hanging slack. As he helped you ride out your orgasm, he couldn’t help but be thankful you had reached your climax as soon as you did, because he wasn’t far behind you.

Once you relaxed back down, Arthur pulled out of you, the feeling of warm release landing on your stomach pulled your eyes open to take in the sight before you.

Arthur Morgan, looking exhausted as ever, sitting above you. 

You giggled quietly.

Arthur laid himself down beside you to catch his breath, closing his eyes to momentarily take in all of what just happened.

“Not sure that’s where I expected that conversation to go.” You said with another laugh.

He laughed along with you, opening his eyes again to stare upwards at the trees providing shade where the two of you laid. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Looking back at the man next to you, you sighed out contently. “I was just… nervous, I suppose. Wasn’t sure you’d feel the same way.”

Arthur, sitting up now, looked at the mess he made between your thighs. “I think the answer to that one is obvious now.”

From where you laid, you playfully pushed his shoulder, a smile filling your face. 

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He then said, pulling his pants back up and buckling his belt to stand up from where he was laying. He eyed the small camp momentarily, looking to see if there was anything suitable to fix the mess he created. When nothing met his satisfaction, he dug in his pocket for a moment until he pulled out a handkerchief. Leaning down with the colored piece of fabric in his hand, Arthur began to softly wipe away the substances, pulling your bottoms back up when he was done.

This was the part of Arthur you loved the most. Even despite being the person he was, or doing the things he did, he still found time to be sweet to you. He wasn’t the same person that was on those wanted posters all over Blackwater. He was soft. Gentle. Loving. Even now, as he leaned forward to place a tender kiss on your forehead, you felt yourself falling head over heels again. Only now, he knew you liked him. And he felt the same.

“Do you think the gang is—“

“Arthur! Arthur are you around here?”

A loud, familiar voice rang through the clearing of where the two of you were. Though it sounded recognizable, you couldn’t put a name to it just yet, only quickly standing up from your once comfortable spot on the ground. Whoever it was, you didn’t want them to catch you like this.

Both you and Arthur began walking towards your horse, a slight wobble in your step as you did so. 

“Okay there?” The cowboy teased, holding onto your arm as you made your way to lean against the horse.

“Just fine, mister.” You said back, kicking his boot playfully.

“Arthur!!! I have your horse, are you there?”

Suddenly, the voice was louder than before, clearly approaching your current location at any moment. Whoever they were, they did a better job of finding Arthur’s horse than the two of you did, that was for sure.

“I’m over here!” Arthur called back, whistling loudly to the voice.

After a few moments passed, the sound of horseshoes pounding against the ground made their way to you, and you were able to put a face to the voice.

“Arthur, there you are!” Lenny exclaimed, handing the lead of the other mans horse over to him. “You two never came back yesterday, we were all worried you’d been thrown in jail like old Micah, too.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “Micah’s in jail?”

Lenny nodded. “In Strawberry. Dutch wanted us to go break him out but you weren’t at the camp. Found your horse behind some old wagons, and thought somethin’ bad had happened.” He rambled, looking between the two of you.

“Wait, Dutch wants us to break Micah out of jail?” You scoffed, looking up at Lenny from where he sat on his horse.

“I know, I don’t want to as much as the rest of you, but it’s Dutch’s orders. He’ll be hung if we don’t get there soon.”

With a shared sigh, both you and Arthur hopped on the backs of your horses, readying yourselves to take off and follow Lenny.

“Guess we best get goin’, then.” Arthur begrudgingly said, gritting his teeth.

As Lenny turned around to ride in the other direction, he glanced back at the two of you. “So why didn’t y’all come back last night?”

With wide eyes, you looked at Arthur, who already had his eyes trained on you with a smile.

“Too much to drink.” He simply said, picking up his pace on the path.

As you rode up next to him, the two of you shared a knowing smile and flushed cheeks, following Lenny on your new mission to Strawberry. 

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 smut #rdr2 community

[lordofthecherubs]

Hello Euphoria [Part 1]

“Knew it was too strong for your liking.”

“For my liking? I looove this stuff, Arthur.” You slurred, pointing to the drink in your hand for emphasis.

“Love is a strong word, cowpoke.” He offhandedly said.

“Strong feeling, too.” 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, MDNI. Eventual Smut. Slight slow burn. Reader is part of the gang already. Drunkness. Horseshoe Overlook Chapter. Reader is a lightweight.

The summer this season was particularly grueling. As the sound of birds twittering overhead remained the same as they always were, everyone in the camp seemed to be barely making it day by day without turning into a melted puddle in the ground. Even Charles, stoic and resilient as he was, seemed to be letting the heat get the best of him; nearly planting Micah into the dirt ground after he had made one of his insensitive comments. Tensions were high. 

In the late 1800s, there were scarce few ways to find relief from the heat and cool down. Modern luxuries of air conditioning or plug-in fans were not of access. You could swim in a lake, or buy yourself a small handheld fan; which seemed to be an idea Mary-Beth was keen on, holding the piece of plastic close to her face while attempting to still appear presentable. She was a nice young girl. She still had that going for her.

However, there were others who didn’t care to remain modest. Sean had taken to waltzing around camp in nothing but his drawers, which was more unpleasant to see than surprising— if you were anyone but Karen. John seemed to think this was a good idea, because he soon was seen in the same attire, or rather lack thereof. Abigail was not as thrilled with the sight as Karen was. 

“John Marston!” She shouted. “Get yourself decent before folks start thinkin’ you’re a drunkard!”

You laughed at the sight, pulling pieces of hair away from where they’d stuck to your neck with sweat. The two of them weren’t exactly the perfect couple, but you could tell there was love there. If your judgement of love was educated enough.

Your gaze turned to another area of the camp.

Arthur sat at the base of a tree, head leaned down, and arm resting above his bent knee. You rolled your eyes at his ability to look how he did even given the harsh circumstances of the weather. The cowboy would never agree with you, but he was very easy on the eyes. So easy, in fact, sometimes you stared at him with such intensity it was like you were preparing to hunt him for sport. Not a bad idea.

Your daydream doesn’t last long. Not when Dutch, the gangs leader, voices his opinions about the current situation loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“We are better off laying down and dying in the middle of Valentine than staying here and looking miserable all day!” 

For once, you agreed with him. Dutch was a man of many thoughts and opinions, ones it seemed he couldn’t bear with keeping locked inside his head for long. Which is why, he continued his remarks. 

“Arthur, Lenny, Micah, John—“ 

For the first time today, Dutch caught a look of what John’s best idea of cooling down was. The two shared a look for a moment until Dutch shook his head, waving his hand in the direction of the long-haired cowboy. Then, the gang’s leader looked in your direction, a smile filling his face as he walked over to where you were.

“Well now, I believe it would be in our interest to have a lady on this trip.”

“A trip? In this? You really are losin’ it, Dutch.” A voice commented, the sound of gravel crunching signaling to you that someone was heading your direction. 

Arthur looked at Dutch with a hint of fatigue in his eyes, having been woken up from his nap by another one of Dutch’s antics. Lenny and Micah soon followed behind him, and the once empty table you occupied was now surrounded. 

“Listen, I think it would be best if a few of us went down to some of the cities.” Dutch explained, looking between different members of the small group he created. “You two—“ He gestured to Micah and Lenny, “See if you can find some information about O’Driscoll’s in Strawberry, maybe steal us some supplies. And you two,” He pointed at you and Arthur, but paused for a moment after reviewing the exhausted look on both of your faces. 

While Dutch wasn’t a soft man, he wasn’t evil. He cared about every person in the gang like they were his family. And, in a way, they really were his family, or the closest he’d ever get to one.

The dark-haired man opened his mouth to speak again. “You two, go to the saloon in Valentine. See what you can find out there.”

“What? That’s it?” Micah scoffed, stepping closer to Dutch. “We gotta go robbin’ and chattin’ while these two get to have a bar date?”

You tried to tell yourself the heat that crept up the back of your neck was not because of the inclination that Arthur and you were going on a date, but because you might’ve been getting a sunburn. Yeah, that was it. Looking upwards from where you sat, Arthur’s jaw visibly clenched. It could be unrelated. Maybe he had a bad dream during his nap?

Dutch began walking away to his tent, ignoring Micah’s complaints. “Just find something useful to do, would you?” A hint of annoyance in his tone. 

In an attempt to hide his embarrassment, Micah shrugged his shoulders back, feigning nonchalance. “So, it’s you and me kid, huh? Hope you’re ready for the ride of your life!”

Stepping off into another direction, you gave Lenny a sympathetic look before he followed behind Micah, no hints at all in his step that he was happy to be sent on this mission. Who would be?

“Can’t help but feel bad for him.” Arthur said, watching the duo ride off on their horses in the direction of Strawberry.

You laughed, shaking your head. “It was him or us. And, Dutch is smart enough to know sending you off alone with Micah is a recipe for disaster.”

“Disaster?” The cowboy parroted, smiling down at you. “What kind of disaster, cowpoke?” His eyes seemed to pierce right through your own, possibly even right into your brain, where your thoughts were aimlessly spinning around, trying to stay focused on the fact that you were in the middle of a conversation. 

You cleared your throat and broke eye contact, opting instead to ease yourself up from where you sat instead of sitting and sharing eye contact any longer. “The kind of disaster where one of you gets killed,” You quickly said, pushing away from the wooden table. “Preferably, Micah.” 

This made Arthur laugh heartily while he followed you to where both of your horses were hitched. The sound of his voice was enough to make you smile softly to yourself, patting the animal on its side while readying your saddle. Almost in sync, the two of you mounted them, slowly exiting the camp while riding next to each other. You wanted to look at him, but instead you focused your attention on the road ahead of you, hands clasping tightly onto the reigns.

***

The trip to Valentine was as quiet as it was short. You and Arthur hadn’t shared many words to each other, but you assumed that was because he was still tired, being woken up from a nap was never fun. You almost felt bad that Dutch had sent the both of you on this mission. You’re sure you’re not the only one to have noticed, but Dutch really liked to send Arthur off on missions that could be done by anyone else. The cowboy worked hard, if not the hardest out of everyone in the camp. But, all things considered, you weren’t one to complain about having such pleasant company. 

Tying your horses up at the front of the saloon, Arthur walked up the steps, leaning against the front of the building as he waited for you to follow suit. He watched as you removed a gun you had stowed on your horse and placed it in your holster, surprise bubbling in his stomach. Most of the women in the gang didn’t have guns. And while he wasn’t opposed to it, he wondered if there was more to you than you let on.

You were a fighter, he knew that well enough from how you never shied away from telling Micah off when he disgustingly flirted with you, even having drawn a knife one time when you were slightly intoxicated. You had no real intentions of using said knife, but the blond man needed to be shut up one way or another. That same occurrence was when Arthur had learned you weren’t the best at handling your alcohol. A lightweight, the term he commonly heard being used. 

The cowboy, still leaning against a wall by the entrance of the saloon, had a keen eye for things when it came to you. He wasn’t sure of how obvious it was, but he didn’t miss the way he’d sometimes catch you staring his direction when you were sure he couldn’t see you. The thought made him smile to himself, hands resting on his belt as he waited for you to catch up with him.

“All ready?” You asked, admiring the way stray pieces of hair stuck to Arthur’s forehead due to perspiration. He nodded, moving himself off the wall to push the saloon doors open, holding them for you to walk inside. 

With a smile towards the cowboy in thanks, you followed him to the bar. The table in front of you wasn’t the tallest, but it was hard not to notice the way Arthur basically towered over it. Looking away before you were either caught staring, or consumed in your thoughts, you began to wonder why Dutch sent the two of you on this “mission”. Before you could get whisked away in your head with that topic, Arthur spoke up again.

“Got a preferred drink?” He asked, elbows leant against the wooden platform in front of you. 

“Even if I did, I doubt they’d have it in a place like this,” You said, looking upwards at the bartender in front of you. Your eyes widened, not realizing the owner would be standing right in front of you. “Oh— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” You trailed off, a feeble attempt at an apology, and heard Arthur bite back a laugh beside you. You kicked him beneath the bar.

“Don’t you worry, miss. I’ve been to enough saloons to know this one ain’t all that pretty.” The bartender said, smiling genuinely. “And,” He paused, wiping down the wooden expanse in front of him with an old rag, “I don’t actually own the place, I just work here.” The man in front of you winked with a laugh, standing up straight to formally address the you and Arthur.

Arthur, smiling and obviously very entertained by the whole interaction, sighed out contently before speaking up. “I’ll have a whiskey, and for the lady…” He looked down at you, examining your face for a quick moment. “Brandy.” 

The bartender nodded, turning around to fill up some glasses with your drinks.

“What’s brandy?”

Arthur laughed again. He seemed to be in a better mood now, thankfully. “Think it comes from a fruit, if I remember right. Not much of a drinker, are you?”

You shook your head silently, looking down at your hands. As much as you wanted to be able to drink like the rest of the gang, you knew all too well that you and alcohol did not mix well. Loose lips, unsteady feet, tiredness, and giggles were your common reactions. All of which are far too embarrassing to display in front of Arthur, someone you wanted to think highly of you. Yet, here you were, thanking the bartender for the drink as it was handed to you. For a moment, you examined the glass in your hand with an eyebrow raised. 

“Scared?” Arthur teased, turning towards you with his own glass gripped between his fingers. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Of a drink? I think I’ll be fine, cowboy.”

Were you a bad liar? Or did Arthur always have a look of suspicion in his eyes whenever you spoke to him? Despite whether or not he truly believed your words, he raised his drink towards you, cheersing it with yours, the sound of the glass clinking filling the space as you both took your sips.

Being the man that he was, Arthur didn’t flinch at the bitter taste whiskey left on his tongue, or the way it burned down his throat. Especially not when he wanted to see the way you reacted when your drink did the same to you.

Pulling the glass to your lips, you were met with the initial taste of something slightly fruity. The flavor wasn’t too bad, compared to any other alcoholic beverages you’d had before. Then, as the liquid traveled down your throat, a sweltering feeling overcame you. With great effort, you managed you swallow it, despite your brain's efforts to try and get you to spit it back out. The overall feeling was intense enough to make your eyes water, looking up at Arthur in front of you. 

The cowboys face read a mix between surprise and concern. Clearly, whatever reaction you just had was not the usual. You grew embarrassed, cheeks turning a shade of crimson. 

“Should we get you somethin’ different—“

“No!” You almost immediately said, clearing your throat. “No, this is good. I like it.” You half-lied, reaching for the drink again.

Arthur seemed to be shocked by this response, because he tilted his head to the side slightly. “Really? You like it?”

You nodded, taking another sip and willing yourself not to have the same reaction as before. 

The cowboy carefully watched your face as you drank, taking note of the way your eyes watered again after you pulled to drink away from your lips. He wondered why you were lying to him about something like this. It wasn’t a bad thing to not be able to stand strong drinks, especially if you were someone who didn’t usually drink in the first place. Momentarily, he remembered the first time he’d been offered a drink by Dutch. He was about fourteen, and as soon as the liquid met his tongue, he spat it back out onto the ground, gagging dramatically. Compared to the way he was casually drinking the whiskey in his hand, that memory was laughable. 

“Can I try yours?”

Arthur was shook from his memories by your voice, glancing down at his drink to your face with a nod. Handing the drink over, he spoke up to try and warn you. “Just be careful. This is a lot stronger than—“

Before he could finish speaking, you quickly pulled the glass to your lips, eyes closed tightly as you gulped the entire drink down. Arthurs jaw fell slack at the scene before him, looking around to see if this had been some kind of joke. Upon surveying his surroundings, he noticed the cup that had once been full of the brandy he ordered you was now empty. You placed his now matching glass beside it, wiping a hand over your mouth. 

“S-sorry, I drank all yours…” You sheepishly said, looking up at Arthur. “I’ll get you another, ‘kay?” 

Was it possible for someone to fall under the influence that fast? Or had he been daydreaming about his childhood for too long? Whatever the answer was, his feeling of shock lingered as you pulled two large mugs of whiskey towards the both of you.  “Maybe we’ve had enough for today.” Arthur said, voice laced with concern for where this would go if you got any more liquor in your system. 

“Let’s find somewhere else to sit, it’s too loud here.” And with that, you were off, both drinks clutched in your fists as you wobbled to find a quieter place to sit. 

The cowboy had no choice but to follow you, worried for your wellbeing. Maybe it was his fault, getting you started on brandy of all things. But in his defense, he thought it would put you off from drinking altogether, not send you into a spiteful frenzy to prove you could drink the same way that he did. Arthur stayed close behind you as you made your way outside, using your weight to push the back door open. Luckily for you, there was a small table with two chairs on the back patio, looking almost as if they had been waiting for you and Arthur to come and use them.

“Perfect!” You exclaimed, carelessly plopping yourself down into one of the wooden chairs, placing Arthur’s drink on the table and bringing yours to your lips. 

The outlaw carefully sat down across from you, reaching for his drink at a more relaxed speed than your own. Carefully, he eyed you. You were definitely drunk, there was no denying that, but he had underestimated just how quickly that could happen to you. This was a fault of his memory, because only now was it reminding him of the time when you got woozy from one beer. 

“You know, after a while, it doesn’t even burn anymore.” You laughed, turning your head in the mans direction. 

“So it did burn you,” Arthur couldn’t help but smile. “Knew it was too strong for your liking.”

“For my liking? I looove this stuff, Arthur.” You slurred, pointing to the drink in your hand for emphasis. Now, you turned your entire body towards him, almost leaning completely over the table in his direction. This action caused a sleeve of your shirt to slip off, revealing a soft shoulder to Arthur’s eyes, making him gulp down his drink with a new intensity.

“Love is a strong word, cowpoke.” He offhandedly said. Unlike many of the other women in the gang, besides Sadie, you tended to dress less traditionally. Your wardrobe consisted of different pairs of worn in pants, and some button up shirts that happened to fit you sometimes, while others did not. Only so often did Arthur ever witness you in something like a dress. And presently, the shirt you wore was probably a size or two too big. Not a fault of your own, though. It was rare to find clothes made for working in diverse sizes, more so ones that fit women. 

Within his thoughts, he reached forward to ease your shirt back onto where it belonged, willing his hand to not linger on the spot longer than it needed to.

“Strong feeling, too.” 

Arthur had almost forgotten what he’d said to make you respond with that, but the look in your eyes brought the same spoken of feeling to burn in his chest. Still leaning over the table, eyes trained on the cowboy in front of you, your pupils were blown wide and your cheeks were flushed. 

It was nearing dusk, crickets began chirping ambiently, and the air was starting to cool down from its prior harshness. 

“We best start heading back.” Arthur quietly said, all too aware of the way you were silently staring at him. It’s not as if he was opposed to you being this close to him, in fact, it was killing him inside to not reach over and pull you across the table into his lap, where he could finally get his hands on you. But you were drunk. He wasn’t going to take advantage of you like that. 

You hummed in response, eyes lowering from his to now look at his lips, coated with the whiskey he had been nursing all this time. They were entrancing, really. Everything about Arthur was. The way he carried himself. His voice. His arms. His calloused hands. The way he always seemed to look out for you. How could you not feel some kind of way about him? 

The sound of your name coming from his mouth made you focus up, albeit you found it hard to keep your attention on one thing. 

“You alright?”

“Y-yeah… just thinking…’s all.”

If you weren’t so drunk you’d be embarrassed of the way you were speaking.

“Thinkin’, huh? What about?” Arthur challenged. 

You pulled yourself back into your seat, the final drops of your drink finding its way down your throat before you spoke again. 

“‘m not sure I can tell you.” You mumbled, leaning your head back against the wooden chair.

At this, Arthur felt a bit defeated. He wasn’t going to make you talk if you weren’t comfortable with it. If there was something you were withholding from telling him, he was sure there was a good reason. 

“Well, looks like our time here is up.”

As the cowboy began standing up from his seat, he felt a force grip his wrist, making him instinctively turn on his heels. What he was met with shook him to his core. 

Eyes glazed over, lip pouted outwards, hair a beautiful mess, you reached for Arthur. 

“What’s goin’ on—“

“Please, Arthur.” 

He was going to pass out. Your voice, defeated and pitiful, spoke his name in a way he’d never forget. Regaining his composure, Arthur spoke up again.

“Please what?”

Cheeks flushing an even darker red, you looked down at his wrist, turning it in your hand from where you had grasped onto it. For a second, there was no apparent reason for what you were doing. 

But then, calloused palms met soft cheeks. 

You had pulled Arthurs hand to caress your face, leaning into it with a soft smile.

“‘thur... I don’t wanna go back to the camp…” 

Confused, but compliant, his brows furrowed on his face. “How come?” 

You nuzzled your face against his hand for a moment before responding. “Not enough room on my bedroll for both of us…”

Arthur hoped the way his whole body stiffened wasn’t noticeable. How could you say something like that to him? He was going to lose his mind. Right here, on the back patio of Valentine’s saloon. He started thinking of ways to solve this problem. At this rate, getting back to camp on the horses without a fuss from you wouldn’t be possible… There was a hotel not too far of a walk from here, maybe that would work? Only, he’d have to get one with two beds. You weren’t in any condition to be consenting to share a bed with another person, even if your previous statement said otherwise.

“Can you walk?”

Removing your face from his hand, you used the table as leverage to stand up again. However, walking proved to be a difficulty, akin to a baby deer taking its first steps. Yeah, this wouldn’t work.

“Okay, I’m gonna pick you up. Is that alright?” Arthur said, hovering his arms around your shoulders momentarily.

Immediately, you nodded, leaning into his touch as he carried you bridal style to your next location. Wherever it was, you didn’t care as long as you were in his arms. 

The cowboy made quick work of the situation, careful of the mud that laid the town of Valentine as he made his way to the hotel. He was lucky it was still open at this hour, pushing the door open to be greeted by the owner.

“Well howdy, you two! Looking for a room?”

“Yes, a two bed, please.” Arthur said, trying not to sound too strained. It wasn’t that he was having trouble holding you, no, that was far from the problem. It was the way you buried your face into his chest that caused his heart to race. He hoped you didn’t notice.

“Two bed?” The man behind the counter said, raising a brow at the two of you. “You sure? I got plenty of other—“

“Yes! Just a two bed, please.”

Arthur was never more thankful to be a threatening man in his life than right now, it seemed, because the tone of his voice was enough to send the man on his way to find keys to a room.

“Up the stairs to the left, mister.”

And with that, Arthur made his way in the direction he had been told, carefully unlocking the door with you still in his arms. None of this felt real, if he was honest with himself. One second, he was talking to you inside the saloon; and the next he was carrying you to a room to put you to bed. He paused to look down at you, your eyes closed as you quietly breathed. There weren’t many things that could make the heart of a man like him soft, but you were definitely one of them. 

As Arthur entered the room, he took note of the two beds that were inside of it. While they were on the smaller side, there was no doubt they were probably much better than the makeshift beds the gang had back at the camp. Slowly, he pulled back the covers of the bed and placed you in the one furthest away from the door, his mind considering the situation where an emergency might happen, even amongst its slight buzzing from the whiskey. 

When he began to walk away to get into his own bed, he felt the same grip on his wrist from before. Only this time, he knew there was no threat. Slowly, he turned around, looking down at where you laid. 

“Please… sleep with me. I don’t wanna be alone.”

If his heart hadn’t softened entirely from the sight of you dozing in his arms, it was melted right out of his chest now.

Opening his mouth to give you an excuse as to why he shouldn’t, you cut him off.

“If you don’t, ‘m just gonna get into yours later.” A slight sleepy giggle in your voice.

Who was he to deny you right now?

Finally, he gave in, sighing quietly before sitting himself down on the bed. Maybe if he slept as stiffly as he did at camp, you wouldn’t want to lay so close to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you near him, at this point, he craved you near him. But he couldn’t be entirely sure that this is what sober you would’ve wanted. So, as he laid down on the small bed, likely intended for one person, he was surprised to see you keep your distance initially. 

But, it was short-lived. Once Arthur had completely settled into the bed, you grabbed onto his arm, hugging it close to yourself. 

The cowboy squeezed his eyes shut, not in an attempt to sleep, but rather to keep himself contained. 

“Night, Arthur…”

He could die right now. 

He’d be happy.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 fic #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 community #rdr2 smut

[lordofthecherubs]

You're so pretty when I'm all over your mouth

“Oh, cowboy, I’m going to eat you alive.”

“Please, do.”

And you were going to lick the plate clean.

Warnings/Tags: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI. Takes place during the Shady Belle Arc. Reader is a vampire.

The sound of crickets chirping amongst the soft breeze the wind provided was all that distracted you from what was truly on the forefront of your mind right now.

It was that time of the month.

And no, not that time. This was something different.

It was time for you to feed.

Typically, whenever you had these urges, they would go away from simply taking the blood of various animals that you hunted. That’s why you always liked to go hunting alone, unlike Hosea or Charles.

This would have been an easy effort to maintain had it not been for Dutch constantly making the gang move from place to place due to his inability to keep quiet and stay out of the limelight. Constantly having to pack up and go as quick as you could, it reminded you all too much of the incidents in Blackwater, where you lost Jenny and Davey. If only you had more time, you might’ve been able to save them. But you were weak then, and you’re becoming weak now.

Now, the gang resides in a camp they call Shady Belle. It was pretty spacious in comparison to other places you had stayed, an abandoned home in the center of the property. Some members of the gang got to stay inside it, while the rest opted (some more begrudgingly than others), to remain outside in their tents. While Miss Grimshaw had originally wanted you take a place inside the building, you declined; insisting it belong to Abigail and Jack.

So, here you were in your tent. It was on the smaller side, and only provided a slight amount of privacy. Not that you needed much, given the fact the gang had all seen each other at their worst and their best. However, given your… condition, it would’ve been nice to have a place where you weren’t entirely aware of everything going on around you. Along with the urge to drain the blood out of somethings body for your own sake, your senses were heightened. Every smell, feeling, and noise was on another level. You couldn’t miss the way you heard slightly heavy breaths from the tent nearest to yours if you tried. It was Arthur’s tent.

Arthur was one of the most respected members in the gang. In a way, it was like he was Dutch’s son. He also happened to be one of the few who could bring you out of your shell, as strange as that sounded. He was just different. Of course you liked to hang around and drink with the guys, while simultaneously spending time with the women and helping with chores. But you couldn’t help but detach yourself from them. You were hiding something. They were not.

Maybe Arthur was too. Maybe that’s why you feel like you can be yourself around him.

Maybe that’s why the way his slightly musky scent drifting into your direction made your mouth water.

No, stop it. Do not feed on people. Especially people you know.

You couldn’t help but shift around in your makeshift bed, the only thought consuming your head being hunger. Perhaps it would be best to just go hunt a rabbit, but it was far too risky to go alone as you felt yourself growing weaker by the minute.

Letting out a low groan of annoyance, you shoved your paling face into your pillow, hoping that maybe you’d be able to just sleep it off. The sound of crickets and frogs along the shore filled your ears, and you urged yourself to just go to sleep, forcing your eyes shut.

A throat cleared itself behind you.

Almost instantly, you shot up into a defensive position, having not heard whoever it was walk up to where you were.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Arthur.

You relaxed back onto your bed, sighing out in relief before making eye contact with the man in front of you.

“It’s okay, you didn’t scare me, just hadn’t heard you walk up is all.” You half-lied.

The cowboy let out a laugh. “Didn’t scare you? You looked like a bat outta hell!”

You’re sure he didn’t intend for that to be a pun.

“I just came to see if you were alright. You been tossin’ and turnin’ all night by the sounds of it.”

Of course he noticed.

Arthur noticed a lot of things when it came to you, weirdly enough. He took note of how your skin was always cold despite sitting in front of the campfire, and the way your ears were able to hear things that he wouldn’t have until a few minutes later.

“Oh.” You began to grow nervous, rubbing the back of your neck. “Y-yeah, I’m alright, couldn’t really get to sleep.”

He nodded, pretending not to see through the way you were lying to him. He was determined to dig deeper, for some reason.

“You wanna go on a walk with me?”

***

Upon reaching the entrance of the Shady Belle property, you found Arthur waiting for you, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“All ready to go?” He asked, tossing it to the ground before grinding it down beneath his boot.

All you did was nod, hoping he would take the lead with things tonight.

It couldn’t have been any later than midnight, you were surprised at his admission to not being able to sleep either. Normally, you’d be able to strike up a playful conversation with Arthur easily. But tonight, you were on edge. You hoped he didn’t notice.

As the two of you headed deeper into the forest surrounding the camp, Arthur broke the silence again.

“So, what’s got you up all night, cowpoke? Regretting not taking a room in the house now?” He joked, though you could tell his question was coming from a place of genuine concern.

You forced a laugh, fiddling with the leather of your holster. “I guess you could say that,” you quietly agreed, avoiding eye contact. There was a heat burning in your chest. God, did he smell this good all the time?

“You’re not lyin’ to me now, are ya?” The cowboy pressed, stopping in his tracks beside a tree.

You looked up, attempting to read his face for a motive. But, classic Arthur Morgan style, he lowered his head, leaving his face covered by a black cowboy hat.

You didn’t have the energy to play along with his games tonight.

“And if I am?”

You hadn’t meant it to sound like a challenge, but the humid warmth of the air sticking to your skin mixed with his overbearingly strong scent, you couldn’t help but grow antsy.

Arthur raised his head, green eyes piercing into yours. His expression remained unreadable, though you could tell he was searching for what to say, leaving the tension between you two so thick it could be cut with a knife.

The outlaw didn’t hide the way he looked you up and down, and had it been anyone else, you wouldn’t have welcomed his approaching proximity so easily.

Standing before you, staring down at you, you couldn’t make out what he was trying to do. Intimidate you? That wasn’t like him.

At first, you remained looking at his chest, a button down shirt was all that stayed in your line of sight before him.

“Look at me,” He softly said. “Please.”

Inhaling sharply, you raised your head, craning your neck upwards to find his gaze. “If somethin’s botherin’ you, if someone did somethin’…” He trailed off, examining your face for any emotion.

You let a few beats pass before answering. You needed time to think. What do you say to that? You can’t tell him what’s really going on, but you didn’t want to lie either.

The wind blew a couple leaves around the two of you, stray pieces of hair on Arthur’s forehead moving along with them. You bit your tongue momentarily, as if that would satiate the urge to sink your teeth into the exposed skin of his slightly unbuttoned shirt.

This was becoming impossible.

“It’s nothing like that, Arthur. I-It’s…” You focused on your words carefully. “It’s just something you wouldn’t understand.”

A bit harsh, but sometimes things needed to be that way. Otherwise he’d confuse you for glass and see right through you.

You could tell he was a bit hurt by those words, the way his jaw clenched was proof enough. However, he wanted to help. He wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Then help me understand.”

The cowboy stepped closer. Closer than he had ever been before. It was all becoming too much, those same heightened senses betraying you all at once. His slightly sweaty skin shining in the moonlight, looking so desperate to have your teeth sunk into it. His overbearing scent filling your nose, making your mouth water.

Your heart raced in your chest.

“I don’t know if I can, Arthur.”

Thinking logically, what could you even say to him? Hey, Arthur, I know we’ve been running together in the gang for this long, but I forgot to mention that I’m a vampire! And, if you step any closer to me, I may lose my mind, draining your blood in the process!

Knowing Arthur, there were two reactions he could have to that. Laughing in your face, or killing you on the spot.

Both were not favorable.

Calloused fingers caressed your face, his palm held your cheek upwards to ensure you were looking at him.

“Try. For me, cowpoke.”

Maybe this is how he would kill you.

Maybe you would like it.

You were sure your eyes were glazed over at this point. Your fangs poked the inside of your cheek, and your mouth filled with saliva at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. You wouldn’t last much longer like this.

With a shaky breath, you decided it was now or never.

“There’s just… something I need, but can’t exactly get. At least— not on my own.” You attempted to explain, lacking attention in the possible underlying tones your words carried.

Arthur gulped, sweat growing behind his neck. Clearly, his mind had gone south. “You mean…”

You knew what he thought you meant, and you stepped closer to where he stood, the already small distance between the two of you was nearly entirely closed up.

“No, Arthur,” You nearly pushed yourself forward into his chest, grasping at his shoulder to make him lean down, attempting to get your voice in his ear.

“I want your blood.” You said, just above a whisper.

Arthur pulled back, wanting to meet your eyes and make sense of the situation. What he was met with would never leave his head.

The once confident outlaw cowboy nearly buckled his knees at your gaze. Your eyes, full of want, something he thought he would never see from you in his life.

Chills ran up and down his spine, the same he’d get but never admit to having when finding himself cornered by an enemy.

Only, these were different. He almost wanted to lean into it. He almost needed it.

You looked at him like he was a meal.

Something stiffened in his pants.

And you could smell it. The aroma of arousal flooded you, making you swipe your tongue out from inside your mouth and slide over your lips. It was then that he caught a glimpse of your fangs, eyes widening.

The man realized he hadn’t spoken up since your initial comment, clearing his throat the same way he did when he creeped up on you at your tent.

“You can have it. It’s yours.”

What a careless thing to say.

In an instant, almost like a choreographed dance, you launched yourself forward, Arthur wrapping his hands around your waist as you clung to him, listening to the way your breathing grew heavy beside his ear.

“Mine, huh?” You heaved, teasingly dragging your teeth along his neck, loving the way he weakly lowered himself to his knees, soon laying flat on his back with you straddled on top of him.

Your palms laid flat against his chest, and you leaned down to lick over the spot you intended to sink your teeth into. Your jaw fell slack as you prepared to take your feast, but you paused when you felt something poke your behind.

A devious laugh erupted from you. “What’s this?” You asked, reaching a hand behind you to palm at his throbbing erection.

Arthur wiped a hand down his face. “Can’t help it when you’re on me like this, angel.”

Angel. His chosen term of endearment was angel. You could hear the way his heart pounded in his chest, the mixed scent of fear and arousal clouded around him, and he still called you angel.

Pressing your hips down to grind against him, you drank in the way he threw his head back instantly, his hat knocking off his head to display messy brown hair.

"Oh, cowboy, I’m going to eat you alive.”

“Please, do.”

And you were going to lick the plate clean.

The heat of his skin was becoming too much for you to hold back any longer, nearly launching forward towards his neck with your teeth bared. Without any warning, you snapped your fangs into him. The skin was soft, though tender, given the fact that he was a muscular man.

And he whined.

Arthur Morgan, killer, robber, and wanted man across states and cities, whined.

The cowboy’s firm hand steadied on your hips, his grip nearly bruising. The feeling of his neck being punctured into and fed from left him lightheaded, and he pleaded with himself to not pass out. He didn’t want to miss a single moment of this.

The sound of you humming feverishly against his skin, nails digging into his shoulders, and the slight continuous grind of your hips onto where he needed it most, he felt like he was in a dream.

After a few minutes, the initial point of penetration didn’t hurt anymore, leaving his senses to align with what he was feeling next. To ask a man with as limited of a vocabulary as he had to describe the feeling of the blood being drained from his body was a mistake. Because, he wouldn’t know what to say, other than that it was perfect.

The same way Reverend Swanson was addicted to substances, or John to troublemaking, he could become addicted to this.

Time passed, and you eventually pulled away, a mess of drool and blood left on the cowboys neck and your lips.

He wanted to kiss you. Your lips were swollen and covered in the red substance, your hair a mess atop your head, and your eyes half-lidded. He needed to kiss you.

“I’m sorry, that was probably really—“

The same rough hand from before grabbed behind your neck, pulling you down to his lips for a desperately rough kiss, the metallic taste of himself causing him to buck his hips upwards into nothing.

It had to be nearing morning now. The air had lost it’s humidity, and if not for the heat growing between the two of you, it would’ve been cold enough for goosebumps to litter your skin.

The cowboy didn’t hear a word you said, regaining his strength and flipping you over so that he was now on top of you.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed beneath him.

“Aw, gone shy on me now, cowpoke?” Arthur teased, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

He leaned down and kissed you again, though this time, he didn’t remain on your lips for long. The scruff of his stubble prodded against your skin as he lowered himself down, kissing your neck and collarbones.

“You said you were gonna eat me alive, right, angel?” He asked, holding himself up to look down at you.

Your cheeks flushed, and you nodded, avoiding his eyes.

“Looks like you held back. Can’t have been easy for you, sweet thing, I know,” He paused, grabbing your cheeks roughly to force you to look at him. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Brows pitched upwards on your face, your hips subconsciously rolled upwards at his gravelly voice and sudden dominant nature.

A smirk filled the outlaws face, and he reached down to undo the top buttons of your pants.

“Now, you’re not so desperate you’d take my blood and want me to fuck you, are you cowpoke?”

Biting down on your lip, you didn’t care that you nearly caused yourself to bleed.

Arthur’s large hand reached into your pants, his fingers prodding over the wet spot in your panties.

He hummed. “Guess you are.”

You reached out to dig your nails into his arm as he rubbed his fingers against your bundle of nerves, silently pleading with him for more.

“Gotta use your words, angel. Can’t know what you want ‘less you tell me.”

“P-please, Arthur…need you,” You pleaded, opting to reach down and pull down your pants for him.

The cowboy stopped you in your tracks, pulling them down gently the rest of the way, admiring the way your slick glistened in the moonlight.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He was growing light-headed from the blood loss, and if his pants got any tighter, he might’ve lost his mind right then and there.

With that, he shoved his own pants down along with his boxers, revealing his length to you.

At first, you stared, shocked. The way it bobbed upwards and throbbed, leaking from the tip, you felt bad for teasing him.

Then, gone went your own undergarments, your bottom half on full display to Arthur. If someone told you a few hours ago you’d be in the situation you were in right now, you’d laugh in their face.

But here you are, Arthur Morgan on top of you, lining himself up with your dripping mess of a cunt.

“If it’s too much, tell me.” He said, clearly trying to keep his composure above you.

All it took was a nod, and he slowly pushed himself forward into you, causing you both to gasp.

The grip you had on his arm tightened, the slight pain of him stretching you out engulfing your senses.

Arthur, on the other hand, was doing everything in his power not to slam himself into you without any time to adjust.

He was nicer than that, so he refrained by biting down on his lip. He wouldn’t last long like this, with the way you were so tight around him, pulling him deeper inside.

Once he was fully inside you, Arthur allowed you some time to get used to him, admiring the way you looked beneath him.

“Just tell me when you’re—“

“For the love of God, Arthur. If you don’t move I’m going to lose my mind.” You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Pulling out slightly, then thrusting forward, he couldn’t help the way a groan slipped past his lips.

But it was nothing compared to you. Typically, you liked to remain modest and not cause too much commotion. Though, was that at all possible when a cowboy just let you drink his blood, and was now fucking you like it was nothing?

It was almost overwhelming, the way you both came together like this. You had been so wound up, the feeling of the band in your stomach snapping was approaching rapidly, and it didn’t help when he reached down and began to rub at your clit, a new wave of pleasure added on top of what you were already experiencing.

It was all too much, really. In the best way possible.

“A-Arthur, ‘m close…” You warned, eyes nearly shut as you whined loudly.

“I know, angel, me too,” He said between thrusts, groaning out momentarily. “Need you to be good and cum for me, okay? Can you do that, darlin’?”

You nodded quickly, as if you had any say in the matter.

It all happened so fast, white-hot pleasure you had never felt before ripping through your entire body, tears filling your eyes as you reached a climax like no other. Not far behind, Arthur’s speed was growing sloppy, and he readied to pull himself out of you, but you grabbed his arm again.

“Inside, please,” You begged, cheeks stained with tears as you looked up at him. Almost instantly, that was enough for him. His hips snapped forward, releasing himself inside of you as per your wishes.

The sound of labored breathing filled your ears as he fell down on top of you, catching his breath. You were content to lay on the ground like this with him forever if he’d let you, but you knew he would have questions as soon as he gathered his senses.

Arthur rolled off of you, matching you by laying on his own back, his hand wiping sweat from his forehead.

A beat of silence.

“…So, you’re a vampire, then?”

You wanted to giggle at the bluntness of his question.

“Yes, you could call it that,” You hummed, turning your head to look at him. A drop of blood began to slide down his neck, and you almost instantly shot your hand forward to wipe it with your thumb, bringing it to your mouth.

It was greedy. But he liked it.

Another beat of silence.

“D’you think the camp heard us?”

You both erupted into laughter, soon ending in the cowboy pulling you onto himself, assaulting your face with kisses.

“Been wantin’ to do that for a while now, cowpoke.”

You met his eyes. “Do what? Fuck me in the woods just outside camp, or let me suck your blood?”

Arthur flicked your forehead gently.

“Kiss you, smartass.”

So he did it again. And again. And again until you had to push him away because it started to tickle you, and the rising sun began to appear in the corner of your eye.

“We should head back, Arthur.”

“In a minute, I wanna see these things…” He muttered, using his fingers to part your jaw and expose your fangs. “Jesus! Those were inside my neck?”

Playfully, you bit down on his finger. “Sure were, now stop stalling.”

There were more questions that weighed on his mind, but he knew you probably wanted to get back and relieve yourself into some much needed sleep.

Helping you up, you leaned into his side while his arm wrapped around you, the two of you quietly making your way to camp, dawn breaking.

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