#arthur morgan x f reader

[the-marsh-harrier]

Make me… (LH!Arthur Morgan x F!Reader)

A/N: This is my first time writing for Arthur, RDR2, and my first time writing for a long time so be kind. If you're going to share my writing, please reblog and I don't give permission for my work to be copied onto any other platforms. I only write on Tumblr so if you see this anywhere else, it's not me.

Masterlist

Part 2 - SMUT DNI if you are under 18!

Terminology: 'Carpet girl' - a woman that conducts sex work on the street usually carrying a carpet with her in order to do this. It's an 1800s term. (I remembered this from a TikTok video so could be remembering it wrong, either way - this is what this term is describing in this fic.)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of sexual encounters, slightly NSFW if you squint, use of the word 'skank', Arthur and Reader being rude to each other at the start.

You sat on the old table in the med tent examining the damage to your cheek in a small broken shard of a mirror. You were silently thankful that Tilly had already cleaned the cut and stitched it, so it didn’t look as bad as when you arrived back at camp. However, the blood staining your shirt was still a very evident reminder to how easily it could’ve been much worse.

You had gotten into a fight with a carpet girl in town after you and Abigail had ‘stepped on her territory’ while pulling your little scheme. Y/N and Abigail would take turns to lure a man into an alley, while the lure occupied the victim, the other would hit him round the head with a rock or brick. They’d mug him and run off with the loot. Normally, this wasn’t an issue until today where you ended up with a nasty cut on your cheek from the carpet girl’s switch blade before Abigail knocked her out as well.

“Where the hell is she then?”  Arthur’s angry voice boomed over the camp causing you to shrink slightly on the table. You prepared for another firm talking-to from him about being stupid, not needing to pull tricks anymore and every other comment he’d throw at you. You two had never attached a label to what you were but most of the camp had labelled you as Arthur’s whether he wanted to admit it or not.

The flaps to the med tent opened in an angry flurry as his spurs clinked against the dirt floor with every step. You dropped your head quickly, tilting the damaged side of your face away from him. He stopped in front of you with his hands rested on his gun belt. Without looking up, you could already feel the scolding glare pointed directly at your head. You heard he click his tongue frustratedly at your reluctance to look at him.

“Well. Show me your face then.” He ordered firmly but you didn’t move a muscle. You were oddly frozen under the weight of his looming presence – this wasn’t your Arthur, this felt more like his outlaw persona ordering a bounty around.

“Now.” His tone was dark and almost threatening causing you to finally look at him. Arthur looked at the fresh stitches on your face and hissed in a deep breath through his teeth. You saw Arthur lick his teeth as he looked down at the ground before looking at you expectantly. “I know what happened but you’re gonna tell me because I want you to hear how stupid it sounds.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed as you reluctantly recanted the story. “Me and Abigail just went out to make a little money and some skank decided she didn’t like it so… we got in a fight. She started to lose so she pulled a blade out on me and got in a slice on my cheek before Abigail could hit her with a brick.” You felt like a child having to explain yourself to him as he examined the wound on your face with your chin being held up by his fingers. He looked like a man possessed as his breathing grew heavier and his brows furrowed in annoyance. You tried to reach out to him, but he swatted you hands away with his free hand giving you no option but to fold them in your lap.

“You will listen to me this time.” Arthur growled. “From now on, you’re not allowed to use your ‘little tricks’ anymore. No more robbing people, you understand?” You could see he looked genuinely worried under his angry exterior… but it did little to make you want to agree with him.

“Excuse me but who are you to tell me that?” You sassed back as you pushed his hand off your chin. Telling the story again reignited your anger at the woman that had done this to you but now there was only Arthur there to bare the brunt of it.

Arthur’s head quirked to the side slightly as he bit his tongue, taking his time to think about his next response. “Don’t speak to me like that. I’m trying to keep you safe, and you make that difficult when you start acting stupid like this.” The glare he was sending at you could melt through steel.

“No, you’re trying to boss me about.” You snapped back matching his harsh glare with your own as you remained firm.

Arthur’s eyebrows twitched your response as he leaned forward caging you on the table between his solid arms. He nodded his head disappointingly at you. “Damn right I’m trying to boss you about because asking you to stop behaving like this clearly don’t work, does it?” He grumbled as his voice seemed to get lower and his drawl thicker. “I know it’s not the answer you want to hear, but you can’t go about mugging men in dark alleys. It’s dangerous and that-” he motioned to the stitching on your face “-is all the proof of it.”

Something about his condescending behaviour was making you even angrier and wanting to lash out. “Fine! I’ll go back to dancing in saloons then.” You sneered knowing that would get a rise out of him.

“Don’t you DARE.” He sneered back at you and pointed his finger in your face. “You’re more than a pretty face and a pair of tits and after today – that pretty face is gonna have nasty scar.” He tapped your jaw on the side where the wound was but was careful not to touch it.

You scoffed and smirked almost smugly. “It was my ass that got you paying for them dances anyway, you didn’t spend much time looking at my face from what I remember.” You crossed your arms over your chest in defiance. You attitude was causing his temper to rise and his blood pressure to go along with it. You noticed the vein in his neck start to become more prominent and his jaw tighten.

“I’ve provided for you, given you a place to live where you don’t have to spread your legs every night for whoever pays the most, and I’ve kept you safe.” He spoke with a firmer and authoritarian voice, the growl in his tone akin to wagon wheels on gravel. “All those times you needed bailed out of the jail and it was me coming to get you. You should be thankful.” There was a surprisingly calm edge to his voice, like he was somehow managing to keep his temper simmering under the surface.

You laughed sarcastically at him as you leaned forward, getting in his face just like he had with you. “You only paid to get me out because you knew I would’ve fucked my way out that cell otherwise.” You whispered sadistically at him. Truth be told, this argument was doing more to turn you on now as the adrenaline in your system shifted to trigger some other primal instincts in you.

Arthur didn’t like that one bit, as his expression darkened even more. “Watch your tongue when you speak to me.” He warned. “I’d have just as easily left you to rot in that cell. There’s plenty of other women out there who’d be happy to take your place and don’t forget it.” He was angry, and right now your words were getting to him.

“Awh, save your pretty words and choke on them.” You bit back, not backing down. Instead of feeling like a damsel in distress you felt more like a horny depraved wench.

Arthur didn’t budge. Though he was much bigger than you normally, he appeared even bigger as his entire body seemed to tense as he looked down at you. “What did you say to me?” He hissed. “Go on, say it again. I dare you.” He exaggerated the word ‘dare’ with a growl as if he was threatening you, but you didn’t bat an eye to his threat.

“I said...” You whispered dangerously. “Save your pretty words and god damn choke on them.” You hissed back in the same tone.

Arthur’s fist clenched on the table either side of you as he weighed up his next move. It was like a switch in his brain flipped, and there was no going back. You watched as his back stiffened and he ground his teeth in frustration. The veins in his neck bulged against his shirt collar. “I’ll make you regret those words…” He hissed, just barely managing to stay in control of his anger.

Something about seeing him so angry and teetering on the edge of his temper flipped a switch for you too. Something much more desperate and wanton flooded your system as you watched his biceps straining against his cotton workshirt.

“I hope you fucking do.” You smirked and looked him over seductively as you gave into your urges.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that.” Arthur grumbled, as his hands were trembling with rage. He had a million different things he wanted to scream at you… but he was refraining from it. “Don’t think you can turn me on just looking at me with those big pretty eyes of yours.” His voice was laced with sarcasm as he spoke, his hands gripping the edge of the table with enough force it could probably splinter it. “I’m not one of your customers at the saloon anymore.”

“But you were.” You chuckled smugly and looped your fingers round the base of his suspenders. “And you always came back to see me.” You whispered and shuffled forward on the table as you parted your legs. Your hands slowly pulled his crotch towards yours using the spring of his suspenders to do so.

“That was different back then and you know that.” He huffed as his nostrils flared and he stood more upright between your legs. “I was your customer. Not your-” He cut himself off before finishing the sentence. “I was just your customer.” He reaffirmed.

You could see his eyes were darkening for a different reason now. He was visibly trying to ignore the fact you were touching him, your fingers playing with his suspenders and the way your thighs were brushing his hips.

You continued to look up at him with a devilish smirk. “What are you now then? Huh, big boy?” You whispered as you played with the clasps of his suspenders.

Arthur maintained his sharp gaze down at you, his entire being was on edge as he continued to ignore the fact that you were slowly wrapping yourself around him. It was obvious that the both of you were pushing boundaries on purpose. As if trying to make the other admit your situation was much more than what you two had been pretending it was.

“I’m your friend, nothing more.” He grunted.

You chuckled and bit your lips. “I ain’t never had a friend that does the things you do to me before. So, I’ll rephrase my question.” You whispered as you popped the clasps on his suspenders. “What do you want to be to me?” You inched your face closer to his keeping your gaze on his lips and occasionally flickering your eyes up to meet his. You could see he was wrestling with himself to not give into you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game with me that you might not want to play.” Arthur muttered darkly as he tried to remain composed. You watched as his eyes wondered to your hands now hooked on the waistband of his jeans, and then trailed your body to your lips. It was obvious that you wanted him… and it was clear a part of him wanted you more.

You observed him with a calm curiosity. “Tell me what you want me to be to you.” You ordered softly. “Just tell me.” You slowly pushed his suspenders completely off his body before returning your hands back to his hips pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“Stop teasing me.” Arthur groaned but you could tell he was enjoying this much more than he wanted to let on. His hands found their way onto your thighs above your skirt, squeezing them firmly. “Just…” He exhaled, his voice as husky as a cold winter morning. “Kiss me.”

You decided to give in, just once. You slowly leant in towards him, gently brushing your lips to his in a featherlight graze. “Tell me.” You whispered, letting your breathe fan over his lips. You affectionately brushed the tip of your nose against the side of his. “Just tell me what you want me to be.”

Arthur drew in a deep breath as his hands move up to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze, his eyes trailing after his hands avoiding your gaze. “I want you to be…” He paused for a moment as his words go stuck in his throat. He dipped his head to the crook of your neck before he whispered softly against your neck. “Mine.”

He slowly started to kiss along your neck and shoulder as far as your blouse would permit. You knew he meant it – but it still felt good to hear him say it.

You tilted your head back to give him more access to your neck as you undid the buttons of your blouse so you could bare more of yourself to him. You shrugged yourself out of your blouse, leaving it pooled at your waist where it was tucked into your skirts.

“Say it again.” You whispered through a breathy moan as you locked your ankles behind him thighs, keeping him against you.

“I want you to be mine.” Arthur groaned against you neck as his nipped at the soft skin there. His grip tightening on your hips as he harshly pulled you hips closer to his so you could feel the bulge in his jeans. His lips roamed along the base of your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “I want you… all to myself…”

You moaned wantonly as he spoke, his words like pouring kerosene on your already burning desire for him. “I already am.” You mumbled as you got lost in him all over again.

Getting lost in Arthur was like swimming in a murky lake, never knowing what was lurking under the surface to pull you under. Every time you’d break free, you found yourself ready to walk back into his frigid waters and drowned all over again and again.

“Then prove it.” He breathed in a deep inhale through his nose against the area where your neck joined your shoulder. He dragged his tongue up your neck firmly up to your ear before catching your earlobe between his teeth. “Kiss me again.” He exhaled into your ear. “But don’t hold back this time.”

You shuddered as he managed to pull a small whimper from you as you relaxed evermore into his arms. You gently coaxed his head round to yours with small nuzzles against his cheek. The feeling of the stumble from his short beard scratching your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Once you were in reach of his lips, you kissed him deeply as your lips rolled against his in firm languid motions. The feelings behind the kiss coming from deep within you. Your lips moved together in a deliberate but effortless way causing you to slowly open your mouth to permit your tongues to dance together. The moment your tongues touched; Arthur made a deep groan seemingly emitting from the depths of his chest. He’d given in completely now and you could feel it.

He slowly pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead to yours as he panted through clenched teeth. He didn’t want to rush this, not this time.

You waited with bated breath for his next move but what came next shocked you.

“Make me need you.” He whispered lustfully as he calmed himself slightly. “I want you to make me feel like I’m nothing without you.”

His words and tone were so wanting and longing, like he’s been keeping them a secret for his whole life. You brought your hands up from his hip, brushing them against his chest so he’d feel the pressure through the material of his shirt, until your fingertips braced against his jawline. You pulled him into a much hungrier and rougher kiss, pouring your desperation to have him into it. The pair of you panting and snatching breathes throughout the kiss, not wanting to stop even for a second until the burn in your chest became too great and you were forced by your own body to pull away from him.

Arthur’s body shook with the roughness of the kiss as he moved his hands to your waist trying in vain to pull you closer. Your eyes opened briefly to take in the conflicted and vulnerable expression on his face. His eyes still closed as he refused to look at you, part of him terrified that he would see rejection in them.

“Make me ache for you…” he sighed as rocked his body closer to you. “Make me regret the day I met you… I wanna wake up and not even know what’s become of me and wishing I didn’t have to survive another day without you in my bed.”

The muscles in your legs flexed as your hips ground against him. The small amount of friction created by your brunched up skirts and his jeans stimulated your core making you to moan quietly. Your breathing was heavy as you held his face close yours with just the tips of your fingers – your hold wasn’t firm, evermore proving he was willingly giving himself to you and only you. You closed your eyes as you breathed him in.

“You make the filthiest things sound like a fucking prayer.” You whispered breathlessly as you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Arthur smirked and chuckled lowly in response while one of his hands smoothed over the hair on the side of your head. “The filthiest things are all I deserve, and all I have to give.” He whispered as he took hold of your chin causing you to open your eyes to see his ocean eyes staring back into yours. His eyes held lustful adoration, something far deeper than you’d seen before. You thought you’d seen glimpses of his love for you before now but now you were truly seeing all of it.

“Let me worship you the only way I know how.” He mumbled, giving into his urges, and kissing you with the force only matched by a hurricane.

A/N: Sorry for the cut off but this fic was getting insanely long. If people made it to the end and want a Part 2, leave a comment or a like so I know. Thanks for reading!

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #low honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

[amorgansgal]

Of Swampy Dreams

Well as promised, here's my little fic based on the dream I had where Arthur shoved me through a window into a swamp, in order to escape from a house we were robbing! Anyway hope you all enjoy!

‘Aw shit,’ you heard Arthur mutter behind you, as you were rifling through a drawer. Thus far this home robbery had not proved fruitful. The most you and Arthur had found was a couple of dollars, some brass candlesticks, a few cans of food and that was about it. Evidently, the tip Arthur had received from a thief he had helped escape the law, was either deliberately wrong or he had mixed up the houses.

‘What is it?’ you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

‘We got company, dammit, why the hell is he back so early?’ Arthur barely let you push the drawer back into place, when he was already hurrying you into a back room. Dusk was creeping in rapidly and you could barely see anything apart from what little light was let in from a window. The window was set quite high up in the wall and there was no other way of getting out what looked like was a glorified store cupboard.

‘Well shit,’ you whispered, ‘How are we going to get out of here?’

Arthur rolled his eyes and pointed to the window.

‘I can’t reach that!’ you snapped.

‘I’ll give you a leg up, but hurry up, quit yappin’!’

He forced open the window and cupped his hands together to form a little step. You sighed heavily and then placed your foot in his hands, while grasping the window frame and inelegantly hoisting yourself up. You were busy muttering under your breath about this all being a pointless waste of time, when you realised as you were wiggling out the window that the murky, stinky swamp of Lagras was right underneath rather than any wrap-around porch or solid ground.

‘Arthur, wait!’ you hissed.

‘We ain’t got time to wait!’

‘The swamp is-!’ But he had already shoved you through the window and you landed in the swamp with a squelchy plop. You were lucky to have taken a breath before you entered the murky water, but as you breached the surface you wiped away the weed and mud from your face, as Arthur landed beside you.

‘You goddamn ass-!’ you began to exclaim, but he was already dragging you off.

‘C’mon, don’t want to wait to get caught, hardly be worth Hosea breakin’ us out of jail. And I assume ya don’t want to get eaten by an alligator?’

You squelched your way out of the bog, sticking to the reeds and bullrushes, so the homeowner would not spot you both. Though you doubted very much he would even notice the missing two dollars and would probably think he had misplaced the candlestick. You made it to the road, though you hated the way your boots were stuck fast to your feet and your clothes were drenched. Arthur whistled for the horses and you glared at him.

‘Some god damn robbery this was!’ you muttered.

‘Look, it don’ always go to plan.’

‘We may as well have pick pockets in Saint Denis or played poker, we’d have earnt more money!’

Arthur sighed and caught your horse’s reins as she ambled up to you both. Lacey nickered softly and Arthur gave her neck an absentminded pat, before gesturing for you to mount up.

‘C’mon, we’ll ride back to Rhodes and I’ll pay for you to have a bath,’ he said.

‘Rhodes? Ride back to Rhodes? I’ve got to ride all the way back-!’

‘Well how else you goin’ to get home?’

‘We are finding a god damn stream or river and I am washing the worse of this off. You can grumble all you want, but you aren’t soaked from head to toe in stinky swamp water!’

You mounted Lacey, without Arthur’s help and he stomped off. You barely waited for him to mount up on Topaz, instead kicking your horse into a quick canter and riding off down the forest path. You heard Arthur mutter something under his breath as you passed him, but he soon caught up with you. The sun was just sinking below the horizon and the hum and whine of insects was slowly growing louder, the boggy warmth from the swamp was cooling rapidly. You knew you weren’t far from the Kamassa River and even though the water would likely be very cold, you would be glad to wash yourself off.

There was a small island ahead of you, right in the middle of the river, and you pushed Lacey across to reach it. Once you had reached the middle, you jumped off Lacey and began to strip off your dress.

‘Woah! Easy!’ Arthur yelled, then quickly turned away as you caught his eye.

‘What am I meant to do?’ You snapped. ‘You get a fire going, so I don’t freeze to death, while I wash off.’

You stomped off over to the river, though you heard Arthur mutter under his breath about you being ‘So goddamn dramatic!’ First you gave your clothes a good wash, though to get out the smell you would probably need to wash them properly back at camp, but a thorough scrub removed most of the mud. Once you were done, you headed back to the fire Arthur had got going and flung your soaked dress over a nearby tree branch. Arthur was determinedly focusing on adding more twigs to the fire and you rolled your eyes at his stubborn back.

‘Not like you ain’t seen Karen or Mary-Beth in their underthings!’ you muttered. Half the women would walk around in the evening and early morning in their chemises or combinations, you included. You didn’t know why Arthur was making a big show of respecting your modesty all of a sudden!

You carefully dipped your toes into the river and hissed at how cold the water was. You bit your lip hard, so you wouldn’t shriek as the water lapped at your calves, then your thighs and your belly. This would be a quick wash and no mistake! You took several breaths, then counted in your head ‘1, 2, 3…’ and dunked yourself under the water. You let out a small scream in the water and quickly surfaced. God damn, it was freezing! Your head felt like it was full of icy needles. You scrubbed yourself furiously, then sloshed your way to the shore.

You suddenly realised that you had been a bit of an idiot. You didn’t have any other clothes and your combinations were completely drenched. You would need to strip off and wear your blanket wrapped around you, hopefully Mr Morgan would not faint in shock!

You darted through the small camp, grabbing the spare blanket from Lacey’s back and making your way into your tent.

‘I thought you was just goin’ to wash yourself off?’ Arthur said, you saw him look up at you, then quickly avert his gaze. Granted you’d forgive the modesty act this time, seeing as your combinations were sticking to your skin and you could easily see your nipples through the thin cotton material.

‘Well I did!’

‘I thought you was just going to wash your hands and face.’

‘Hey, you were the one who decided we should rob a house with nothing in it in a damn swamp! And then you shoved me through a window into said swamp! You don’t get to act like we’ve both been making great, smart decisions here.’

Arthur let out a small huff of laughter and lowered his head. ‘Alrigh’, sorry. But get out those things, ya goin’ to catch ya death.’

‘As if I didn’t know that!’ you grumbled, then walked over to your horse and pulled off the spare blanket you had. You began to strip off your wet clothes and scrubbed yourself dry. Once you were dry and tied your hair up, you wrapped the blanket around you. You brought your combinations with you and flung them over the tree branch. You took a seat by Arthur, next to the fire, and tried to get yourself warm, though you kept shivering with the cold.

‘Yer a damn fool,’ Arthur muttered, bringing out some dried meat and a can of beans he left near the fire to warm up.

‘You’re the one who decided to rob an empty house!’

‘I had a tip!’

‘Oh yeah, and it was a really good one! We’d have made more money shooting an alligator or getting their eggs and selling that in town.’ You managed to say through chattering teeth.

Arthur sighed, then began to rub your arms, almost making you lose your grip on your blanket.

‘Hey, easy! Thought Great Aunt Arthur Morgan was going to faint if he saw my tits!’ you exclaimed.

‘Great Aunt what now?’

‘What? Most men would be quite happy to have a naked cold woman all alone in a wood with them, but you act like you’re going to faint because you saw my ankle!’ you grinned, even though you were cold and Arthur’s hands on your arms were very warm. You couldn’t help wriggling closer to him, in an attempt to get warm.

‘I ain’t like most men and I ain’t goin’ to faint on seein’ your goddamn ankle, just… just tryin’ to be respectful, that’s all.’

‘Oh Arthur, you really are a gentleman, shoving ladies out of windows into swamps and then almost pulling their blanket down when trying to warm them up.’

‘Do you ever shut up?’

‘Only when I’m being shoved through a win-‘

He suddenly cupped your face and pulled you in for a kiss. His hand slipped behind your head, tugging you in closer and you felt your cheeks burn, as his lips met yours and you almost went to put your arms around him, but then remembered the blanket you were still clutching to your chest. He was so warm and smelt of whiskey and smoke and something earthy and sweet. You almost wanted to wrap yourself up in his jacket. Your heart was racing, every nerve ending alive with electricity and he was still kissing you, passionately, deliciously. Finally, he pulled away, though his hands still gently cupped your face, as he gazed into your eyes and a shy smile graced his lips.

‘Sorry, ya still stink of the swamp,’ he said.

You smacked his arm, though you couldn’t help laughing. ‘Well you owe me a new dress!’ You smiled gratefully as he pulled off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

‘Sure, think it’s the least I can do.’

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x f/reader #arthur morgan x f reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x your name #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction

[12welveinched]

Y'all literally write fanfics like you're men. How is it that in your own fantasy world, you're not getting pleasure from it? With every reader x character, it's you pleasuring the character. Women write fanfics like how men view porn.

You're so feminist that even in your own fantasies, you think that you are ugly and that this character would never want you. So unless they're degrading, using, and beating you. That's the only true way you think that they could ever desire you.

I'm not even going to get started on the of-age-reader x underage characters because if I need to tell you why that's wrong, you need to be put on a watch list.

#eddie munson x reader #sukuna x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #arthur morgan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #billy hargrove x reader #tony stark x reader #leon kennedy x reader #john marston x reader #jjk x reader #f!reader #steve harrington x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns x reader #geto suguru x reader

[cowboydisaster]

Christmas countdown request:

Have you ever sat in a hot tub while it's snowing? It's a magical experience. Your top is chilly, your bottom half is so warm, and if you look directly up at the falling snow it looks like the stars are floating down around you.

Anyway, Arthur should take reader skinny dipping in a hot spring and it starts snowing and they get to enjoy that magical moment while cuddling naked in the hot spring 😁

* ˚ ✦ Nightfall * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 1.9k a/n: OKAY-- i have experienced this and i LOVE it. I couldn't help myself from writing the smut, really. Smut in a hot spring is too good. I'm obsessed with this. warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, thigh riding, inexperienced reader, cowgirl

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: TWO days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

The breeze is cold against your bare skin, the snow soft against your feet.

“Are you sure this won't hurt?” You ask again, eyes flickering over towards Arthur. He chuckles as he unbuttons the bottom of his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the rocky ground. 

“Yes, I'm sure.” He says, amused. 

“Why did we have to wait ‘till nightfall?” You ask, teeth chattering, hand running up your bare arm, over the goosebumps that are appearing. 

“You’ll see. C’mon, darlin, before ya catch a cold.” Arthur whispers, hand on the small of your back as he leads you across the flat rocks, towards an unknown destination. 

He’d wanted to surprise you, had planned this little trip weeks ago. Your horses eye the landscape curiously, not daring to leave the forest and venture out onto the strange, warm rocks. A nervous smile rests on your lips, a slight anxiety resting in your stomach. Arthur doesn’t miss the shudder in your breathing, nor the beating of your heart in your ears. Wishing to quell your hesitation, Arthur reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently in his own.

“You trust me?” He whispers, green eyes searching yours, and you nod. Hand in hand, you both venture across the rock. Arthur smiles for the way you marvel at their heat. The snow melts away from them, and small bubbling puddles of water rest at your feet. You raise an eyebrow, never having seen anything like it. 

“Where are we?” You ask, looking down, seeing more water, ponds and pools of it, hot and steaming. The warm pools are crystal blue, and seem to glow in the pitch black of night. 

“Cotorra Springs.” Arthur smiles.

Your eyes go wide, taking in the beauty and the wonder of the hot springs. Arthur leads you towards a particularly large one, and you study it. The way the water steams, warmed by some forces in the earth, the way the moon reflects in the strangely clear waters, the halo of light that shines out from the circle in the earth. 

Arthur watches your curiosity with loving eyes. He knows that you were very sheltered, and he’s trying to show you as much of the world’s beauty as he can. The wonders of nature are something that he often takes for granted, but not you. Every flower you come across, every landscape and every animal you meet is met with deep wonder and appreciation. Seeing the way you study, how your eyes light up at something new is… enchanting for him.. 

“Is it magical?” You whisper, your eyes filled with stars reflected from the water. You lean down, running your fingers through the spring, pulling away quickly at the warmth. You look to Arthur for reassurance, relaxing when you see him stepping down into the water. 

“Reckon it might just be.” He hums, extending a hand out to you. You take his calloused hand, letting him help you. Your toe meets the water first, and you pull it back, hesitating. 

“S’alright, sweetheart. I gotcha.” Arthur whispers, and trusting him wholly, you step in. 

The warm water envelops you, chasing away the chill that had been sinking into your bones. Arthur sits on the naturally carved ledge in the spring. You hesitate, but he nods– signaling that you’re okay– and you follow.

“Incredible, ain’t it?” Arthur whispers, head tilted back, looking up at the stars. The snowfall combined with the bright stars enrapture your attention, and you stare at the sky, wondering if it’s the snow falling onto your tongue, or the stars themselves. 

“It’s beautiful.” You murmur, brushing your hair back with wet hands, extending them to the sky, catching snowflakes that promptly melt against the warmth of your skin. 

Arthur is sure that in all the things he’s seen, all the places he’s gone, he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you. Your wet hair falls in tangled waves down your back, your smile is brighter than the stars above as you try and catch the ones that sprinkle down to you. The wonder in your eyes. That wild streak in your heart. Arthur could draw you day and night in his journal, and never truly capture your glow, or the way your smile brightens a room, the way your laughter heals broken hearts. 

Sometimes he wonders how you do it. How does someone with so much pain– so much trauma– stay so optimistic? So grateful for life and for people? In all that Arthur endured, all it ever made him was an angry fool. But you. You’re a phoenix. 

Arthur’s hands grip onto your waist, pulling you into his lap, your legs sitting across his own as he holds you wedding-style in his arms. 

“How’d I ever get so damn lucky?” Arthur whispers to you, green eyes laden with emotion. 

Your smile picks up all the cracked pieces of his heart, the liquid gold pouring out from your soul glues it back together.

“Karma.” You answer quickly, “Because good things happen to good people, Arthur.” 

Your legs are toasty warm in the water, but your chest and shoulders shiver lightly in the cold breeze. You cuddle closer to Arthur to make up warmth, laying against his chest. 

“I ain’t a good m-” 

“Shh.” You say into his ear, lips remaining there for a moment, pressing a slow kiss to his cheek. 

“You are a good man.” You whisper, turning in Arthur’s arms to face him, straddling him, “and…” You press a soft-as-silk kiss to his neck, “I love you for it.” 

His breaths grow a little quicker at the contact, and suddenly you become all too aware of the position you’re in.

“Too good to me.” Arthur whispers in between open mouthed kisses to your neck. His hands find your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh, gripping you tightly. 

You whimper, breath shuddering as he pulls your hips down, grinding your core against his leg. 

“Arthur we’re–” You take a breath, “What if someone comes along?” 

“No one will come along, darlin.” Arthur reassures, thumbs trailing up your torso, pressing circles against your firm, sensitive nipples. 

Despite your sheltered childhood, you struggle none with this. When you were eager, Arthur had shown you– again and again– what you could do to make yourself feel good, to what you could do make him feel good.

“Keep talkin’ to me, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.” Arthur’s voice is like velvet against your ear, his lips locking on to your lips, your jaw, your collarbone. One of his fingers continues massaging your swollen, pink nipple, and the other travels lower, teasing your thigh, stroking your hip. 

“Please, Arthur.” You whisper, hips rocking gently, waiting for friction.

“Jus’ wanna touch you, sweetheart.” Arthur groans, pulling your hips down against his leg, helping you to rock them, to fuck yourself against his thigh, your warm bodies still half submerged in the spring. The temperature does something for you all on its own. Your breasts are exposed to the cold, only warmed by Arthur’s touch, but your lower half is heating all on its own, and combined with the hot water, it's almost overstimulating. 

“Just like that-” You gasp, head tossing back, hair dipping back into the glowing water. Snowflakes flutter about, landing in your hair, on your face, and your breasts, scattered white specks that Arthur picks up with his trail of kisses. Your hips keep their steady pace, and Arthur continues teasing you, featherlight fingertips trailing down your legs, ghosting over the backs of your knees. 

“Easy, sweetheart.” Arthur’s voice reaches your ears in a strained huff. 

He wants to pull you down onto his throbbing cock, to roll his hips up into you, watch you rock yourself, fuck yourself on his length. He wants to watch those beautiful eyes roll back into your head over and over, wants to hear his name coming from those pretty, plump lips. He wants to mark you, kiss you, make you his. He’s not sure if at heart he's a good man. However, he is sure that you make him a very bad one. His cock is straining against his stomach, and every rock of your hips is rubbing against him, and jesus, he can’t take it much longer. 

It’s selfish, purely selfish as he dips his hands below the water, pulling you up. Your face wrinkles in pleasure when he slides you down onto his cock, and the gesture nearly sends him to heaven. Your soft skin goes tense, muscles tightening, cunt gripping him, pulling groans from his cracked lips. 

The glow of the water shines impossibly brighter, illuminating you. Your face is flushed, your breasts bouncing with every one of your rocks.

“Oh–” You moan, hands gripping onto his sturdy shoulders, “Arthur!” 

“Tell me what’cha need, darlin.” Arthur grunts, squeezing your ass in his hands. 

You reach for his wrist, grabbing it tightly, and shoving it down between your bodies. Arthur smirks against your skin as he nips at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure through all the pressure points in your body. His thumb makes a steady pace on your clit, and when you toss your head back in pleasure, snowflakes spot your eyelashes. 

“Feel good? Gonna cum for me?” Arthur groans, cock twitching inside you, pushing up into you. You press your chest to Arthur’s, the added stimulation of your nipples against him creating an influx of sensations.  

“Good… Good, there you go.” Arthur praises, feeling the stutter of your hips, noticing the whine of your voice. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Arthur kisses your neck, and your stomach clenches down on him, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me.” 

Your hips stutter, voice growing louder, strained as you rock against him. Arthur curses as your walls tighten around him, squeezing out every bit of self control that he’s clinging on to. Your orgasm works through you slowly, building and building, like a dam cracking before it bursts. 

“There, there, just–” Arthur groans, “Jus’ like that, darlin’. Doin’ so good. I’m– nearly there wit’ ya–” 

You shudder and gasp, fire erupting in your abdomen, spreading over your limbs. A few unrhythmic, upward thrusts and Arthur is there with you. His hips grind up slowly, pumping his cum into you, filling you full as he groans, hands tearing into your hips with their force. He thrusts again, slow, breathing deeply as you both come down. 

“That–” You shiver, sweat clinging to you, cold from the temperature. 

“I know.” Arthur finishes for you, pulling your body against his chest, keeping you mostly in the water for warmth. His arms wrap around you, fingertips trailing slowly up and down your spine as tingles spread through your limbs, little waves of aftershock hitting you now and again. 

Arthur doesn’t pull out, just keeps you in his lap, holding you, kissing your head, praising you. 

The falling snow lands in your hair, and as Arthur looks up at the vast expanse of stars, he's sure you’re one of them. An angel, come down as a star. Something divine, surely.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445 (send an ask to be added/removed!)

#divider by cafekitsune #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan smut

[photo1030]

Anonymous asked:

Heyy , so i had this smut idea for a while now, but bare with me please cuz my English isn’t that good lol . Anyway it’s about arthur and f!reader who’s been teasing arthur with a lot of touches and stares all day. But they were all busy that day so nothing happened. Then at the end of the day arthur finally got to be with her alone to sort things out (if you know what i mean) and confront her.

Ik … not very fluent in English lol , but I really really LOVE your writing so i figured i should maybe request something

Hello again, my lovely Anon!

Thank you for the "ask"! This was certainly a fun one to write out. I wasn't sure if you wanted Arthur and reader to be friends with longing tendencies, or in an existing relationship. I went with the latter. Hopefully that is okay. Either way, it ends up with some steamy goodness. If you need it tweaked the other way, let me know.

LEATHER AND LACE - CLOSE, BUT NOT CLOSE ENOUGH

Summary: You and Arthur have been trying to get some time alone together all day, to no avail. But by the end of the day, Arthur finally gets what he wants.

Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This is not my image. I have found it posted on multiple pages on Pintrest but can't find the originator. If anyone knows, let me know for specific photo credit.

Masterlist

The early morning sun tries to cut its way into the woods, cutting the dewy mist with its beams of warm, golden light. The burgeoning glow sets the birds into motion, their busy little chirps filling the brisk air around the camp. 

You are dead tired this morning. It was a long, hard day of chores yesterday and when you had turned in for the night, all you wanted to do was rest your weary head on that lumpy pillow of yours atop of that squeaky cot. And with all of the hustling and work lately, Arthur was hoping to have a little “private time” with you last night, too. 

But much to his disappointment, you had already passed out the moment your head hit the pillow, already fast asleep before he could even get his boots off. So with a sigh and just a bit of frustration, Arthur lumbered onto the cot next to you for the night. 

So this morning, you are reluctant to crack open your eyes when the feeling of Arthur’s heavy arm makes its way around your waist, slowly exploring your midsection and creeping up to your breast with his fingertips. His chest is pressed up against your back as he spoons you tightly to him, his skin radiating a comforting heat that sinks down through your skin and into the very center of your body. You can already feel his half-erect cock finding its place against the bottom of your rear. 

In this precious little moment, you are faced with a “difficult” decision:  do you try to get some very much-needed sleep? Or do you give in to the temptation of your beloved outlaw? 

“G’ Mornin’, Darlin’”

His low, raspy voice, cracked with remnants of sleep, floats its way into your ear and breaks through your mind’s thoughts…and that is all it takes for you to decide. A smile slowly emerges across your face without you even opening your eyes. 

“Good morning to you too, my lover.” You playfully reach up to encircle your arm around his head, turning your face back towards his. Your greeting is met with a simple low groan of approval as Arthur’s lips seek out the cuff of your ear. 

You gently roll over onto your back, looking up into his awaiting face. His hair is rumpled from the night and his eyes are still heavy-lidded with fatigue. Yet those eyes still sparkle like the bluest sky as they meet your own. And your heart could burst at how that is the first thing you get to see in the morning.

He leans down to gently catch your lips into a kiss. It’s the first of many to come for the day, knowing you two. You push your body upwards to flatten against his, your leg bending up to entwine with his burly ones. A soft giggle emanates from your throat as you deepen the kiss and run your hand along his cheek and up behind his head to pull him down to you. Arthur is quick to roll himself to climb over you, settling himself between your spread legs. Your lips press together, repeatedly working over the other’s as his hands begin to explore along your chest, grappling at the tender flesh there.

You lift your hips just a bit in invitation as Arthur rocks back and forth ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back as your fingertips drag along the thick muscles of his back, trailing through the soft body hair that scatters across his wide frame. 

“Arthur? You in there?”

Your eyes shoot wide open, instantly snapped out of your blissful reverie at the deep-sounding voice coming from the other side of your shared tent. Arthur seems to be oblivious to the intrusion at first as his motions atop of you do not slow down in the slightest. 

“Arthur?” the voice repeats.

Finally, Arthur collects his thoughts enough to respond.

“Go away, Bill,” mumbles Arthur, pausing in his administrations only long enough to warn the burly man outside the canvas, as he has no intention of stopping right now. 

“There’s a group of us heading out. Got a tip on a stagecoach coming through.” Bill pushes insistently. “Come on, we gotta go.” 

“Not now, Bill!” barks Arthur as he keeps kissing you, his teeth nipping at the tender skin of your neck and collarbone. 

You are trying not to focus on the fact that someone is not only outside your tent at this inopportune moment, but actually having a conversation with Arthur as his erect cock is rubbing against your aching heat, mere moments away from being embedded into the warm cradle between your legs. 

“Well, Dutch is askin’ for you. So what do you want me to tell him, then?” Bill asks impatiently.

“Bill!” you suddenly snap, lifting your head to turn your burning gaze over Arthur’s broad shoulder towards the tent flap. “If you do not walk away from this tent right now, so help me God…!”

“Oh!” Bill’s eyes open wide and his face suddenly turns beet-red as the realization of what he is interrupting becomes all too clear. “Oh, sorry! I’ll..uh…come back, I guess.” He snickers as he abruptly turns to hurry-off back to the waiting group. 

An exasperated sigh pushes out of your nose as your head plunks back against the pillow. Arthur has finally stopped the amorous actions, but still lays overtop of you, motionless and reluctant to move. 

“Well, that just killed the mood,” you huff, noting how Arthur’s face has turned down into a hard frown. 

Arthur takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I know I said I can never leave the gang, but there’s moments like this that I am open to the discussion.”

“Don’t tease me, now,” you warn as a tiny grin creeps its way across your lips. Arthur just rolls his eyes and sits up, playfully pushing your legs to the side so he can sit at the edge of the cot to get himself dressed. 

Back at the hitching posts, Bill approaches the waiting group with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. 

“Where’s Arthur?” asks Dutch impatiently, his gaze looking past Bill’s shoulder when he does not see the man in question in attendance. “You were supposed to go get him.”

“He’s…uh…busy at the moment.” Bill offers this obscure excuse to the men with a quirked eyebrow.

Dutch’s ringed hands land on his hips, his impatience growing by the minute. “Busy doing what, exactly?”

“More like, busy doing who?” chuckles Bill. 

It only takes Dutch a moment to realize what Bill is talking about before his dark eyes roll to the heavens. “Oh, for Christ’s sake…”

—-----------------------------------------

Fortunately, the coach job didn’t take too long. Arthur had begrudgingly pulled himself from your warm and loving arms to drudge over to join his companions. He got a good ribbing from the men, as was expected, but all it did was aggravate his already irritable demeanor. He wanted to spend the morning buried between your legs in his tent, not between Bill and John on their smelly horses.

By the time the men get back to camp, you and the other girls are already embedded into more chores. Seems there is always something to do. In fact, the moment he gets back to camp and unpacked, Ms. Grimshaw is quick to get Arthur to the wood pile, stating that the firewood is already low again. He shoots you a quick glance, your eyes meeting briefly across the camp, before giving her an exasperated sigh as he reluctantly heads over to the ax to get started.  

As you work with your needle and thread to mend shirts and darn socks, you delightfully treat yourself to observe Arthur as he chops the firewood. His strong arms slam the ax down onto the chunks of timber, causing them to splinter in his wake. His muscled arms flex with each blow, his wide shoulders set beautifully with each stroke. His burly legs set into a wide stance, the tendons there rippling beneath the fabric of his trousers with each jarring blow. 

The sight of it makes your heart race so fast that it skips a beat in your chest, knowing that this hulking man belongs to you. Your legs involuntarily cross and squeeze your thighs in an attempt to contain your arousal, a feeling that has yet to be quelled since your abrupt separation this morning. You try to finish your mending as quickly as you can so that you can steal away to go over there. 

“Hey, you,” you call to Arthur as you eventually saunter over, swinging your hips with a cheshire-cat-like grin on your face. 

Arthur lifts his head as he tosses a heavy piece of wood as if it were feather-light. The second his irritable eyes land on your beautiful form floating towards him, the tension melts away from his weathered face. He stands up straight, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you.”

You hand him a cup of cool water, which he gratefully accepts as your fingers linger across his knuckles like an ivy vine. You intently watch him as he gulps the refreshing liquid down, observing how his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. God, how you want to plant your lips all over his neck right now. You shift your weight from hip to hip and bite your bottom lip as you watch him.

You step up even closer, bumping your hip into his and giving him that look. Arthur looks at you with intrigue. He swipes the back of his gloved hand across his mouth, wiping away the water droplets that escaped his lips. He dips his head to kiss you, but halts mid-stride when you hear Ms. Grimshaw’s shrill voice hollering for you from across the camp. 

“Y/N! Quit foolin’ around with Arthur and get over here! I ain’t done with you yet!” You and Arthur turn your heads to see the woman standing in the clearing, arms crossed and face twisted up in annoyance.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Arthur mutters. He turns back to you and the disappointment is plain on your face. You could be off wrapping your legs around this man’s waist, but no. You are needed elsewhere…to stitch holes in socks. 

—------------------------------------

And so it goes for the rest of the day. It's as if the universe is purposely trying to keep you and Arthur apart. But Ms. Grimshaw is shrewd. Normally, you and Arthur can get a lot of work done when paired together. But when the two of you are acting more flirtatious than usual, the only way she can get anything done is to completely separate the two of you. Like wound-up teenagers, you and Arthur are known to play around and get distracted, sometimes even disappearing altogether. So the matriarch has been keen to assign you tasks on opposite sides of the camp. 

Seeing an opportunity to catch you alone, Arthur comes up to you while you’re cooking. You are over at the food wagon, stirring the heavy cast-iron pot for tonight’s dinner when you hear the grass and leaves crunching behind you. You don’t even have to turn around to know he’s behind you, as the scent of leather and cigarettes, mingled with clove, permeates your senses. It’s a familiar fragrance that will immediately set your mind to race, making your blood run hot. 

Arthur pushes his chest up against your back just enough to create that electricity. You suck your lip in between your teeth to silence any wanton noise that would be in danger of bubbling up from your throat. You turn your head slightly to the side, catching the pale blue color of his faded work shirt as he runs a single finger down the length of your arm.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan, there you are! I haven’t seen you all day.” Mr. Pearson suddenly appears out from behind the wagon with an armload of ingredients for you to cut and chop for tonight’s stew. 

“Glad you’re here! Listen, did I ever tell you about the time I got into a fist-fight with a fella from town? He was an honest-to-God boxer. But I was too quick for him, you see. It was a good fight, too.”

Mr. Pearson is so wrapped up in his own story that the disappointed groan that comes from you goes unnoticed. Arthur’s brow settles into a hard, dangerous frown again. If it wouldn’t land him a stinging slap upside the head from Ms. Grimshaw, he’d land his fist in the portly man’s face just to shut him up. On and on Pearson goes, excited to have a captive audience for his rambling. You try your best to be polite and smile and nod along, but Arthur has never been one for social etiquette and quickly finds an excuse to walk away. 

After you suffer through yet another one of Mr. Pearson’s stories and manage to get tonight’s dinner going, you set off to find Arthur again. The sexual tension is building and you can’t wait too much longer to deal with it. You finally locate him over by the horses. 

Arthur is preoccupied with getting Buck saddled up, fixing the straps of the saddle and filling his saddle bags with provisions. He’s bent over at the waist, checking Buck’s hooves for any muck or debris, and you come up behind him, slowly running your hands up his back, pushing your fingertips into the muscle. You can feel Arthur shudder from your touch. But he quickly switches gears, muscles stiffening up under your hands.

“Quit. I can’t be startin’ that now,” he quickly scolds you.

“Oh really?” you purr as you press up against him, thinking he’s playing hard-to-get.

“I mean it. Knock it off.” He spins away from you, putting his hand on your forearm and holding you at arm's length as if you were something offensive. 

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “Excuse me?” Your arms cross indignantly over your chest in disbelief. 

But he doesn’t mean to be cruel. He has to focus on what needs to be done. He can’t get sidetracked by those improper thoughts of you. And he has so many of those thoughts about you right now. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Look, it ain’t you, alright? I gotta head out. Dutch needs me to handle something for Strauss.”

You give a long frustrated huff. “Figures,” you mumble under your breath, taking a step back even further away from him.

“Don’t get mad at me for it!” he snaps.

“I’m not.” 

His ocean-colored eyes flash at you. “Yeah, you are!”

“Arthur, if I was mad at you, you’d know it,” you snark back.

“Oh, so this look on your face is one of joy, then?” he says with dripping sarcasm as his hand waves inches from your nose. 

You slap his hand down, your eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I ain’t bein’ in ass!” His voice raises in volume as his limits get tested. He drags his hand over his face in frustration. “Nevermind. Can we deal with this later? I got things to do.” He plants his hands on his hips in impatience.

“Of course you do.” You give him an eye roll, your hair tossing in the air, as you spin on your heels to head back to the campfire. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you are walking through the camp. Arthur is nowhere to be seen, which is annoying. You grab the water bucket and head over to the edge of camp to dump it, when you hear a whistle. Confused, you follow the noise as it leads you to the tree line. Suddenly, a massive hand shoots out of the shadows and clamps over your wrist. It's Arthur. He holds his finger up to his lips in a shushing motion, tilting his head to indicate to follow him before you can even utter a word. 

You quietly follow as he leads you away from camp and into the dark and awaiting forest, confused as to what in the world he’s up to. When you get to a thick collection of trees, he stops. 

“Arthur, what are you doing-” but you can’t get another word out before he spins on you and roughly grabs your face, crushing his mouth into yours. You can’t even breathe, as he sucks the air right out of your lungs. He backs you up a few paces, hands still clamped around your cheeks, until your backside hits a tree, trapped and unable to move anywhere else.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Can’t wait a damn second longer. I gotta have ya and have ya now.” He grabs at the fabric of your skirt without warning or permission and starts to hike it up, but you are quick to grab his wrists.

“What?! Out here? Arthur, someone is going to see us!” you gasp, shocked at his brazenness. 

“Don’t care,” he grits out as he pins your body to the tree with his own, his lips attacking your neck. He maneuvers your hands away from his own in order to keep pulling at the skirt fabric which is the only barrier between him and his prize. 

“But Arthur-” You try to take a second to try to talk some sense into him, but he silences you again, shoving his tongue down your throat. Your hands shoot up to his shoulders with a feeble push to try to get him to stop. But by releasing your grasp on his wrists, it frees him to reach up further under your skirt and yank your bloomers off, ripping them at the seam. 

The sudden jerk causes you to gasp and it’s as if a switch has been pulled within you. The culmination of pent-up desire has come to a head as you no longer care about the world around you two. You look up at him with hungry, needy eyes of your own, but see nothing but pure lust reflecting back at you, like looking into the face of a wolf.

Your own pupils are blown wide with yearning and briefly flick from his captive gaze to his full lips. And with that brief glimpse of approval from you, Arthur shoves his arms under your thighs and lifts you up off the ground, slamming you back into the tree trunk. The motion causes the wind to briefly knock out of your lungs as your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on and keep yourself from falling to the ground. 

His hips grind harshly into you as his mouth devours your jawline and neck. You can feel how hard he is under the fabric of his trousers. Your precious little gasps only spur him on faster. Arthur fumbles with the buttons of his pants, pulling out his rock-hard cock. You can feel the tip of him rubbing hotly against your inner thigh, the length of him dragging along the folds of your heat. He seems impossibly rigid at the moment and you take a split second to wonder if it's actually painful for him. The thought of it causes you to desperately whine and moan in anticipation. 

Arthur can be soft and attentive as a lover, and he can also be hot and passionate. But, every once in awhile, he can be just outright insatiable. A downright, dirty outlaw. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he smirks, pleased with your reaction to his thick manhood teasing your sensitive skin. Cocky bastard. 

All you can do is nod, your mouth agape and gasping for air.

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t about to stop now.” He lines himself up to you and pushes in, burying himself until his pelvis is flat against yours. You cry out with a wanton little whimper, your head thrown back until it knocks onto the bark behind you with an ungraceful thud. Arthur is large between his legs, always a tight fit within you, but you have zero complaints about it. 

“C’mon, baby, let me hear ya,” he coaxes in your ear. He immediately starts to pump into you, quick and desperate. Your back begins to drag along the tree as he ruts into you. The tree bark cuts into your skin, even through the fabric of your blouse, but you couldn’t care any less. 

“Jesus, Arthur,” you moan. “Right there…(gasping) just like that…just like that.” You try to lean back, pushing your hips towards him and he grunts with a devilish grin. 

“That’s right, girl”.

The beautifully lewd symphony that the two of you create could be heard by anyone in the area if they are close enough. Moans and stifled screams wrap around the wet sounds of tongues and lips clicking, while the unmistakable sound of skin against skin vibrates throughout the ring of trees that encompasses you.  

Arthur lets your one leg drop down so that he can use that hand to reach between you. The pads of his fingers find their way to that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled within your folds and he begins to curl and rub. His other arm that is still hooked under your knee pulls your hip up, opening your gait even more, allowing his cock to ram into the back wall of your cunt with full force. 

It's too much. You loudly cry out at the additional stimulation, your breath gasping as your hands pinch into the meat of his shoulders. 

The sight of you coming undone before his eyes is enough to melt his mind. You lean forward this time, burying your head into his shoulder and letting your whole body go limp in his arms like a rag doll, giving in to sweet pleasure and just letting him have his way with you. 

When you cling to him, he immediately pulls his hand away from your heat and lifts you back up again to get better leverage. He pounds into you even harder, chasing that euphoric ending. You are completely at his mercy now, mercy which will never come. The sexual tension that has been building all day like the pressure of a tea kettle boiling some water has finally been released. And like that scalding hot water, Arthur’s lust burns you.

“Baby, I’m…I’m close…” he sputters, his forehead digging into your temple. You can’t even form coherent words to give him a reply. In fact, you couldn’t care any less about anything he is saying right now, only about what he is doing. 

Your climax is a tidal wave as your hands dig into his shoulder like the claws of a bobcat. The painful sensation of your fingernails cutting into his flesh is enough to push him over the edge as he quickly drops your legs, pulling himself out of you before his spend is sent hurling into the grass at your feet. Lightning clouds his vision as Arthur lets out a loud moan of release, not even bothering to try to hold anything back. His rough hands clasp the rough bark of the tree behind you, snapping pieces of it off in his palms as he braces himself for his own overstimulation.

As his large body comes down from its high, Arthur hangs his head, leaning it against your collarbone, his chest heaving for air. Your legs are shaking, trying to keep upright as you bring your hands up along the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks. Your thumbs begin to stroke his cheekbones to calm him and you press light kisses to his temple as you catch your own breath. 

He slowly pulls his face back to look into yours. Both of you are left speechless. That feral beast that drug you off into the woods to be devoured is no longer in front of you. The man you recognize and love oh-so deeply is back, that sweet grin on his lips. 

“What the hell was that?” you pant out in surprise.

“A man’s got needs,” he smirks with that devilish grin. “And I needed you.” He shakes his eyebrows suggestively at you as he kisses your still-trembling lips. 

“I guess so."

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan x f!reader

[bimrsadler]

hello, i was wondering if you were down and vibing to do some tired and sleepy arthur sneaking into f!readers bed late late at night after being away from camp for a long time? ty!

Goodnight and Goodmorning

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 1,000

Warnings/tags: fluff, high honor Arthur, mutual pining, first kiss

Notes: I absolutely vibe with it! Since you didn’t specify I went ahead and just made it good ol’ fluff, if you had more in mind like smut (or if anyone wants a smutty part 2) feel free to let me know!

ETA: part 2 is here

Sleep didn’t come easy for you when Arthur was gone, not for lack of trying. Tossing and turning, the emptiness beside you and the constant worry of if he was safe kept rest at bay. You wondered if he was somewhere in the The Heartlands under the stars, worrying the same about you.

There was a mutual desire that hadn’t been spoken aloud. Arthur was surprisingly shy for a man of action, you found, and you didn’t want to push him because of this. It happened naturally in moments of solitude away from the others, around the fire when neither of you could sleep, on the outskirts of camp when you found excuses to run into each other. It became more with your head on his shoulder as you drifted off against a tree, his hands on yours as he taught you to shoot even though you already knew how.

Eventually you found your way to his bed on a cold night. Diverging to head to your own tents your gazes lingered and walking slowed; finally hinting to Arthur that there was no harm in wanting company. It was endearing to watch as he stammered a nervous, “I ’spose,” placing a gentle hand on the small of your back.

For a man who kept company at arms length most of the time, he held you close that night. Reassurance was needed before he felt comfortable of course, wanting to hear that you were okay with it multiple times over.

“Promise I won’t do anything untoward.” He must have said that and other iterations of it at least five times before you placed his arm around your waist yourself and confided how much you trusted him.

And it was true. Though Arthur was intimidating, angry and tough as nails; he always made you feel safe. You’d been around “gentlemen” who were perfect on paper but predators behind closed doors.

You’d been in the company of many lecherous and pushy men — some even in the gang, but Arthur? He would put them in their place and apologize to you with their blood on his knuckles.

You always missed his presence in camp but it was a far worse struggle now that you shared a connection.

Drifting in and out the time of night was indiscernible each time you briefly woke, the sound of chatter and guitar steadily replaced by crickets and the dying fire.

As the night wore on the familiar feeling of Arthur’s rugged hands on your bare shoulder roused a fluttering jolt in your stomach. It took his shifting weight behind you and warm chest against your back to convince you you weren’t dreaming.

Peering back the faint moonlight breaking through the canvas revealed Arthur gazing down at you with a grin. “M’sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“Was worried you weren’t coming back, big guy,” you murmured only half-joking, voice heavy with sleep.

“I’ll always come back darlin’, just hopefully a little sooner nex’time.” He pulled flush to him, “now try’n get some more sleep.”

“Gonna hold you to that,” you stretched underneath his bulky arms with a yawn.

The unexpected feeling of Arthur’s lips pressed gently to your temple made a warmth blossom in your chest, spreading to the rest of your pining body.

Slowly rolling over to be face to face you saw an anxious expression highlighted by bruises and cuts along Arthur’s cheekbones. “I missed ya sweetheart,” he admitted softly while rubbing his thumb delicately along your shoulder.

You inquired worryingly with a gesture towards his face, “what happened?”

“Eh, weren’t nothin’.” He shrugged, brushing it off as usual.

“Sure looks like something.” Propping yourself up on your elbows you reciprocated the comfort and allowed your lips to meet Arthur’s skin for the first time. Lightly wetting them you pressed gentle kisses to each bruise, his breath hitching before he let it out in one long, relieved sigh.

He looked at you with a reverence that was almost overwhelming, how a man as rough and wild as him could radiate such softness for you.

“Guess I needed that, thank you.”

“Maybe you need a proper one Mr. Morgan?”

“Huh?” Arthur’s eyes darted, not quite catching on as you smirked with anticipation. “A proper wh—oh!”

Blushing at the realization that you meant a proper kiss, he swallowed hard. “Well uh, if that’s somethin’ you wanna give me…I’d be a damned fool to say no.”

Brushing a lock of hair off his brow, you leaned in and parted you lips for his. Arthur met you the rest of the way and locked them tenderly, staying still together to savor the moment.

He moved back slightly to peer down at you for any sign of hesitation — finding none of course. Cupping the side of your head with his sizable hand he pulled you close for long, languid kisses, accentuated by his tongue gingerly meeting yours.

The moment was soft and sweet and everything you never thought you’d have with Arthur Morgan. The light whimpers with smiles in between, the ever so subtle urging of your hips wanting more but unsure of how far to take it. It could have easily been a dream you’d had in days past.

As Arthur slowed he pressed his forehead to yours with eyes closed, peaceful and unworried. “This is the only place I wanna be right now…”

Gently adjusting you to lay on your back, Arthur tucked the blankets around you before resting his head on your chest and draping his arm across your midsection.

“Let’s sleep darlin’, we’ll take our time in the mornin’ too…”

It was a gift to know Arthur was this comfortable with you. He wanted to talk to people, to let his guard down and be vulnerable. You were sure he wouldn’t admit it and hadn’t noticed that you had noticed, but it was clear as day in his quieter moments.

Whatever happened on whatever mission Dutch had sent him on, he was battered and tired. If Arthur made you feel safe then you could be his safe haven too.

Running your nails along the expanse of his back and broad shoulders, you watched his head rise and fall with your breaths as he drifted off. The warmth of his skin on yours meant you were sure to follow suit, relieved to have him back and looking forward to what the morning might bring.

#also I apologize for the lack of title #but I was too scared to edit it and find out the keep reading links were still breaking posts lol #arthur morgan #rdr2 #fluff #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

[rosemary-morgan]

HC's - Making love with them includes... (+18!)

Warning: Nsfw 18+! Language, cum play, oral sex, erotic massages, chocking

Characters: Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan and Charles Smith X Female Reader. Missing someone? Feel free to ask (❁´◡`❁)

Thanks to all who read and like my stories. Stay healthy and take care, my lovely bees 🐝🌺

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

(Just the screenshots are mine)

Javier Escuella

He is in a flirty mood all the time. Just like you. You both can hardly wait to be undisturbed. You need your peace and quiet, far away from the others, to give each other the love you need.

You have been a couple for three weeks now and you are madly in love. There is nothing as delightful for you as making love to Javier.

And you do it very often. But as already mentioned, you prefer your privacy.

Often you will retreat to a nearby town, where you will rent a hotel room to let your love run free. There you both can be as loud as you want; or rather, YOU can be as loud as you want.

Often, in the early morning hours when everyone is still asleep, you make love under the blankets. Quietly and secretly, Javier fucks you slowly and sensually.

⦁ Javier knows how to satisfy you and he knows what you like.

⦁ He loves to hear his name on your lips. He loves the sound of your voice as you lay whimpering before him and, by God, he loves to see your body tremble while he fucks you.

⦁ Also he enjoys whispering naughty words. His voice arouses you deeply, even more so when he whispers in your ear and nibbles on your earlobe.

⦁ You always take time to touch each other, kiss and enjoy the sight of each other.

⦁ Javier loves the feel of your soft skin, loves to feel your breasts on his body. The scent of your beautiful femininity.

⦁ Javier is very tender, makes sure you feel comfortable with him. But he also has a wild and passionate side that you can easily awaken. Then he can also get a little rough.

⦁ But there are also moments when you are getting wild. And that is when you have been separated for a while. Javier will tear your blouse off, rip it apart, and won't lose a moment to press his face into your tits, breathing in the scent of your skin. Whispering how much he desires you.

⦁ Oh, he loves to satisfy you with his tongue. The taste of your vagina, the sweet sound of your voice when you fall into ecstasy. Javier takes his time with it. Playing with your clit; sucking and licking it before entering deep into your wet hole and tounge-fucking you out of your mind.

⦁ But also he loves to receive as well. The sight of you kneeling in front of him, looking up at him while you have his cock in your mouth. Your plump, delicious tits pressing against his thighs...

He loves the way you play with his cock. Your fingers stroking his thick balls, massaging them, only to be taken in your mouth afterwards, greedily sucking them. Javier goes crazy every time you doing this, moaning loudly your name.

⦁ He is also into choking. Not too rough, but he grabs your throat during sex when he wants to increase the arousal; and you love it. And while he's chocking you, he's whispering things to you.

⦁ Things like, "Yo te quiero mucho" "You like the way I fuck your sweet little pussy, Y/N?" "You love it a little rougher, don't you? You're so naughty." And "When I'm done with you, I'm going to fuck you with my tongue. You like it, don't you? Oh, you sweet, sweet girl."

⦁ He loves to take you from behind. Your buttocks that wobble with every thrust. The smacking, wet sounds when his tight balls slap your pussy every time. 

⦁ And when you ride him, he enjoys the sight of your bouncing breasts. Your buttocks wobble with every thrust from him. The seductive sight when you roll your head back in pleasure and show off your gorgeous throat.

⦁ Loves to cover you with his sperm. 

⦁ Whether you kneel or lie in front of him, spreading his cum on your face or body will make him go crazy with lust!

⦁ And after your lovemaking, he will hold you in his arms, whispering loving things to you until you both fall asleep.

⦁ You will often find a rose next to your sleeping place in the morning, when Javier has to leave early for reasons.

Charles Smith

King of foreplay. He takes a lot of time to please and satisfy you. You will come at least once, before you welcome him deep inside you.

⦁ Sometimes he also gives you a massage. He rubs your beautiful body with fragrant oils and he knows exactly which parts of the body he has to massage and caress extensively to arouse you.

⦁ The sight of your shimmering tits, covert with oil, makes his cock hard as stone.

⦁ And when he massages your pussy, he takes a long time. His fingers circle your clitoris while he looks into your eyes. You clearly see the fire, the passion in them. "How does that feel? Is that good, yes?"

⦁ Eventualy, it leads him to finger-fucking you. You get incredibly wet for him, every damn time.

⦁ Love to give oral sex. Charles takes his time and enjoys you to the fullest. Your scent is overwhelming and if it were up to him, he would lie between your thighs all night. You will often hear words like: "You smell wonderful" "Mhm, you taste so good, babygirl."

⦁ His lips and tongue will explore your whole body, every corner. Charles is very tender, very careful with you, like you're as fragile as flower petals.

⦁ You love the feel of his hands when he touches you, caresses you. And the tingling on your skin where he kisses you.

⦁ Making love with you is something very special and intimate for him. Therefore, he wants to be as far away from the others as possible.

⦁ You both go camping often, and love being in nature. It also often happens that you take a longer break of several days. And in these days, you love each other passionately.

⦁ During your lovemaking you smile a lot and words full of love leave your lips.

⦁ He prefers missionary, for he wants to look into your eyes while he fucks you. This is an intimate moment you share. But Charles also loves to have sex in a sitting position. Your wonderful legs wrapped around his strong hips, your heated, sweaty bodies tightly pressed together and your trembling fingers clawing at his long hair, while he kisses your throat, your round tits... just perfect.

⦁ You have a secret place by a river; where there is no human soul, you make love at the edge of the shore. Your naked and wet bodies shimmer under the sun and under the moon.

⦁ And there's something magical about embracing each other at night while the moon shines down on you and fireflies dance around you.

⦁ Charles often spreads flower petals on your cot or on your bed. Whether it's wildflowers or roses, it's a loving gesture that says a lot.

⦁ He washes you gently with lavender water afterwards, holds you in his arms afterwards. He holds you in his arms until you fall asleep. 

Arthur Morgan

⦁ The two of you look at each other. Full of love, full of affection, holding hands and whispering words of love to each other.

⦁ He also prefers his privacy with you.

⦁ You would camp often in nature, where you can make love in your tent, protected from prying eyes.

⦁ Arthur takes his time to undress you, enjoying every moment with you. He praises your body, kisses and touches every corner with incredible tenderness. This alone arouses you so much that you get all wet for him.

⦁ The first thing he always does when you are naked is to make himself comfortable between your thighs.

⦁ He starts by kissing your inner thighs. Very slowly, agonizingly slowly, watching you very closely. Every twitch, every tremor from you he enjoys. But the most beautiful thing is to see the lust in your face.

⦁ Then, when his own lust grows to strong, he starts to eat you out like a pot of honey. He enjoys every drop. The scent of your femininity makes him crazy with lust. Arthur desires you so much.

⦁ He loves the feel of your delicate body on his manly, strong one. Your skin on his - it's heavenly.

⦁ Slow and sensual. Arthur is a pleasure seeker, but after a while the love making gets a little rougher and Arthur reaches for your body a little harder. 

⦁ He loves to press his face between your tits! It's pure pleasure for him to be able to feast on you. Greedily he takes them in his mouth, sucks on your nipple, while you claw at his hair and go for pleasure.

⦁ He also loves it when you grab his hair and pull it. Whether he's tongue-fucking you or sucking your tits, do it and he'll be yours for eternity.

⦁ He loves missionary position, for he wants to look you in the eyes while he loves you. Arthur wants to see how beautiful you are while feeling incredible pleasure.

⦁ Afterwards, he will hold you in his arms, words full of love will leave his lips. Always asking you for forgiveness, if he was too rough. 

⦁ But Arthur always takes good care of you, and lying in his arms gives you a wonderful feeling.

⦁ Sex in the kitchen is also not uncommon (depending where you live etc.) Desire often overcomes him when he sees you in, while you're making the coffee, or chopping fruit... and by God, he's going to fuck you really good from behind.

⦁ He lays you flat over the table, watching you moaning his name in pleasure. Enjoying the view every time his cock sinks deep into your pussy, his balls smacking against you... You're so wet for him...

⦁ Often he'll smack your ass, gripping it firmly.

⦁ And he is also into roleplaying - Usually he is the bounty hunter and you are his prisoner, completely at his mercy

⦁ You will often find him in the morning preparing some good breakfast for you

#javier escuella imagine #javier escuella x f!reader #javier escuella #y/n reader #female reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #charles smith x female reader #charles smith #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #romance #love #realtionships #fiction #hc's #rdr hc's #arthur morgan imagine #charles smith imagine #love stories

[chubbunnyy]

soft sex with gentle m!dom arthur morgan :((

just imagine him coming home late at night and you’re just not feeling well and he can tell. he approaches you and hugs you from behind

“what’s a’matter, baby?” he’ll ask while pressing his lips to the top of your head

you squirm and then it clicks

“we haven’t uh…. in a while right?” he laughs sheepishly and helps you to your feet and brings you to the bedroom.

he’ll help you strip, praising your body the entire time

“so beautiful, baby… i missed seein’ you like this” he peppers soft kisses all over your soft belly as he slides your clothes off

soon enough he has you seated on his face, his hands digging into the fat of your thighs. your mouth is hanging open in pleasure as your fingers tangle in his hair. his tongue is working fast, nearly making you cum until he stops.

“if you’re gonna cum i want it on my cock” he says sternly before gently guiding you onto the bed.

you stare at his dick, it was hard and dripping pre. he needed you

he lays you down on your belly and gently gropes your ass “this okay, baby?” you nod and he continues

you feel his tip start to prod at your entrance which makes you shudder.

“love you s’much, darlin’… need you s’bad” he mumbles before slowly sliding inside you

he lets out a deep groan, his grip on your asscheek tightens almost painfully which makes you whine

“y’okay?” he stops and releases his grip, gently rubbing circles on your bare flesh. you nod, your fingers gripping the sheets. he smiles softly and continues.

he begins to thrust soft and slow, cooing in your ear as his painfully slow pace continues “doing so good, baby… my favourite girl…” you whine at his brutal pace which makes him chuckle

“you want me to speed up, huh?” he teases before pressing his lips to your neck softly. you whine louder “i know baby, i know. just let me…” he pulls out and flips you onto your back, pressing your legs up to your chest. your stomach folds as your thighs press into it. arthur wastes no time in reinserting himself into you.

you cry out as he reaches deeper parts of you. he can’t hold back anymore. his pace quickens, his hips snapping into yours

you don’t even remembering cumming all you remember is him groaning in pleasure “good girl…. such a good girl”

i am having intense cowboy brainrot mhehehe

(my reqs are open!! pls send some rdr2 stuff plsplspls)

#f!reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x chubby reader #arthur morgan x plus size reader #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x chubby reader #rdr2 x plus size reader #red dead redemption 2 #I AM SO FERAL FOR THIS MAN ARREGGHHHHH

[obsessivelullabies]

bonjour again !

(i luved what you did for my last request 💗)

headcanons on arthur morgan falling face flat on the ground hard in love with the reader? how would he be around you? show his love? would he draw or write about you? jst a cute lil blurb idea on him confessing his feelings 💗🎀

(shy!fem!accent reader once again !!!💗)

Love, 🦢🎀

arthur had already been having a shit day. he was frustrated and sore from his day. seeing you was exactly what he needed, he stared at you as he approached you slowly. the moment you turned to face him, he got nervous and tripped over a stupid rock.

he’d been shamed and embarrassed, yet when you helped him up sweetly, asking if he was ok, he felt good about his fall. his heart swelled as he glanced at your concerned face.

arthur would struggle to start a full conversation with you. he didn’t want to overwhelm you. he’d always try though. he never gave up on talking to you.

sometimes, he just lounges around wherever you are. so he can peacefully keep an eye on you.

arthur shows him love through gifts and acts of service. “i got ya’ this while i was away..” and “i got it, you stay.” are very common for him.

he’d most definitely write about you! he wouldn’t be too sappy, just noting little details about you and things you said. if he has the time, he’ll draw pictures of you, especially if he thinks you look extra pretty that day.

arthur confessing his feelings would be awkward. he’d find you alone and try his best asking you out. “hey, uh, i got some spare cash.. i was thinkin’ you and me go out.. do somethin’. just us.” would sum it up.

aaa i’ll work on my cod requests soon i’m just rlly into rdr2 right now

masterlist! | reblogs and comments appreciated. | unedited.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x reader

[elfven-blog]

Deals with the Devil ain't so bad

Summary: Arthur Morgan became the devil's bounty hunter...but god does he miss you fiercly. Ghost Rider!Arthur Morgan x F!Reader CW: MDNI, 18+ Only, p in v, fingers, forest/public, nearly caught, fingers, flames used during. Is this technically monster? Word count: 2.9K

He remembers signing that contract like it was yesterday. Remembers how the wind felt against his breath as he looked at the sun rising, how he struggled to breath, the sound of his own raspy voice shaking as he took what should have been his last breath. How his lungs hurt, and his eyes watered from the realisation that this was it.

Then suddenly there was the man. He stood watching Arthur dying on that mountain, his hands wrapped on his cain and the silver skull glinted in the morning rays. His eyes were cold and his voice worse as he spoke “I can help you” was all he said. The outlaws' eyes flickering to the strange man. The corner of his mouth turned up as he watched the dying man give a small nod, his breaths starting to wheeze.

Echoes of his steps fall around the mountain as he bends at the knee, resting right next to Arthur “I won’t ask you to get up”. He unrolls paper, and places it on the ground next to the outlaw. Arthur see’s something shining in that pale man’s eyes, there’s something wrong with him. But Arthur’s greedy.

He wants another chance at life, he wants to right his wrongs, he wants to see you again. He’s a selfish man, he thinks as his hands struggle to grasp the paper, and he doesn’t even read the contract before he tries to sign his name. The man laughs as Arthur coughs and his blood splatters the page “That’ll do just fine Mr Morgan” and he takes the contract away from him, rolling it back up and sheathing it in a metal cylinder. “When you open your eyes next, you’ll be healthy as a horse”. The man grins before he’s gone, and Arthur’s eyes slipped shut.

And now here he was a year down the line. The devil’s bounty hunter. He’d spent the past year collecting souls and returning them back to hell, never seeing you. He should never have taken that contract, he should have died that day on the mountain. You thought he had, Charles and John thought he had. Even set him up a nice little grave that he’d watched you visit time and time again over the year.

His heart yearned to be near you again, to feel your warmth and your softness beneath his fingers but he refused to let Mephisto know his weakness. So he spent his days wandering the west, the shire he’d gotten from Hosea had become his ride and he went everywhere with Arthur. 

Even right now, here he was in the small town you’d settled in, watching as you brought in the washing. Your head turning up to look at the sky causing your shoulders to sag when you saw the grey clouds hanging overhead. Arthur kept his hat down low so if you happened to look, you wouldn’t see that rugged outlaw you’d lost a year ago.

The rider stood there for a little longer watching you but his sadness quickly turned to jealousy, his gaze dropping from that aching to venom as he watched some man he’d never seen before riding up to your house. The stranger dismounting as he pressed flowers into your hand which you seemed to accept willingly. That smile you reserved only for him was present and all Arthur wanted in that moment was to drag that man down to hell.

It was a few days later when he returned to you, and you were out tending to the small garden you’d managed to maintain. The sky had been clear for some time and he watched you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. You disappeared inside the door for a few seconds before coming back out with a basket, leaving the garden and turning down to walk through the trees that your property backed onto.

Arthur stood up straight, his hand shaking the cigarette and throwing it onto the ground once it was out. He pushed his hat slightly down as he began to walk after you. The outlaw watched you carefully, not showing himself just yet, and fooling himself that he was following you because the forest wasn’t safe. Who knows what was here, you needed that protection.

While he had taught you to use a gun some years ago, that didn’t mean you were any good at it. Least not better than him.

He followed you for a while, you hadn’t even noticed. More reason for him to be accurately worried. And he watched as you bent to pick more flowers, adding them to the already full basket. His brow furrowed as he finally took note of them, originally he thought the book you held was full of the information and pictures of them but now, as he looked closer, he noticed the familiar worn leather. His own journal.

You’d kept it. You’d kept it.

And that seemed to be what made him snap. Your head turning fast at the sound of someone stomping towards you. Hands forcing you to stand up, an arm wrapping around your waist and someone's mouth crashing to yours.. Teeth clashing against your own as your eyes widened and you tried to push this sudden figure off you. Anger filled your mind, until he pulled slightly away from you.

Your eyes still wide as you dropped the basket, shaky hands holding his face gently. One of your fingers gently tracing his face, mouth opening and shutting as you tried to speak.

It was Arthur who spoke first “I missed you darlin’” came that rough timber that you’d spent nights trying to replay in your mind “Missed ya somethin’ fierce”.

You were the one to kiss him this time, pulling him forward so quickly it knocked his hat back but he didn’t care as he kissed you back. Tongue pushing your lips apart so he could explore every inch of your mouth, you didn’t fight it like you normally would. His brow furrowed as he tasted something salty and opened his eyes to see you crying.

He pulled away again, shushing you gently as his thumbs brushed away the tears “I’m sorry, I know baby girl but I’m here now” you buried your face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him. Leather, gunpowder and sandalwood flooded your nose and it felt like you could breathe for the first time in a year. Your hands took the hat from his head completely so you could run your hands through his soft strands, looking up at him in wonder.

“You were gone” Arthur swore he could have fell to his knees right there with the way your voice cracked, he had never meant to cause such pain. Maybe taking that deal wasn’t such a bad thing, if it meant he could hold you like this, if he could hear that sweet melody of your voice.

“Let me make it up to ya” one of his hands slowly moved down from your waist to grab your ass, squeezing it tightly as his mouth crooks up into a grin and your cheeks go red at his insinuation. You try to stammer a reply but he just shushes you again “Come on girl, just lay here and look pretty, alrigh’?”

Those words are all it takes for him to quickly have you on the floor, hiking your skirts up over your waist and Arthur’s quickly pushing his trousers down. The gun belt is somewhere near his hat. His hands are as rough as you remember as he pushes your thighs open, his eyes dark at the sight between them “Hold” comes his gruff voice, and your hands immediately go under your knees to keep yourself held open for him.

The way his eyes watch you sends arousal thrumming through your body and your hole clenches around nothing causing the man above you to roll his neck and breath through his nose. His hands trace down the fat of your thighs before his thumb pushes against your clit and he slowly circles it “Missed me that much, sugar?”

You can only nod and grip your legs as he applies more pressure “I missed you so much Arthur” he leans down to kiss at your neck, your eyes fluttering and mouth dropping open as his teeth scrape against the skin. His fingers slide down your wet lips, gathering some of it before he gently pushes against your hole. Your body doesn’t deny the man entrance, he meets almost no resistance as he begins to move his fingers in and out, his thumb still rubbing at the sensitive nub.

“Then I won’t tease ya” he mumbles against the pulse in your throat, and you mewl in agreement. He stretches you gently, adding another finger and this causes you to gasp “S’okay darlin’ just been a while, gotta get you ready” your hand moves to the base of his hair, tanging in the strands and tugging to get his face to move up, pressing your lips to his again.

Your legs tremble in your own hold as his fingers press up against the soft spot inside you, the pressure on your clit and the way he kisses you until your breathless has your back arching. His mouth swallows all the sweet noises you give him. 

It doesn’t take long for the man to expertly bring you to that edge, it’s been so long since you felt like this. You’d tried to do it yourself once you’d thought you were done grieving but your own hand just hadn’t been enough. Oh but Arthur’s hand? It knew exactly where to stroke, how fast to go, the right amount of pressure to apply. “That’s it sweetheart, just like that. Such a good girl f’me”

And his words had you going over that edge, your fingers leaving marks on your own skin, your legs trying to close even as you held them open. Arthur’s eyes watching the way your hole tightened around his fingers, slick drooling down to the forest floor as your eyes fluttered shut and you could only whimper and whine at the feeling.

Arthur’s fingers left your cunt leaving you to whine as he shushes you, his hands making quick work to pull his trousers half way down his thighs, enough to bring his cock out of his underwear. The fabric pressed just under his balls. Your eyes gravitated there, tracing the hard dick he sported. 

You couldn’t tear your gaze away, his own hand barely able to wrap around it as he pumped a few times, his head tipping back with a groan and his cock jumped at the action. Arthur stroked the head against your folds, the precum oozing from the slit and coating your pussy as he gathered the wetness. You pouted up at him, trying to roll your hips up against him and Arthur raised an eyebrow.

His free hand moving to pin your body down as he threatened “Have I gotta crush you to floor, girl?” his tone let you know not to do that again, and your entire body relaxed against the leaves and sticks as he finally pushed into your hole. A gasp leaving you, and he stilled with just the tip inside as he let you get used to the feeling again.

Both of you tensed at the sound of your name being yelled through the forest, seeming to echo as someone called your name and suddenly Arthur’s loving exterior was gone. Your hands let go of your legs and you sat up to push him off you “Oh oh, we got to stop” but the outlaw only pushed you back to the floor, his body weight on you as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you.

“We ain’t gotta do nothing. You gotta lay here and take it” Your eyes widened, you’d never seen him like this before, but as Arthur started to buck his hips up against you, you could only do as he said. Your arms wrapping around his shoulders and clinging to the back of his jacket, his own hands gripping your thighs this time to keep them open. His fingers dimpling the fat as he almost seemed in a frenzy to fuck you.

You couldn’t see his face, but you heard the grunts and growls as his hips humped at you, his cock stretching you out over and over as he used your cunt. The yelling of your name got louder before fading away, the person walking in a different direction “He couldn’t do ya ike this, nah, he aint the type to give you what ya need darlin’”. You had no idea what he was talking about, brow furrowing but you couldn’t focus on one single thought. Not with the way his fingers bruising your thighs as the head bruised your cervix.

And then, all of a sudden, you felt very hot. Your eyes shot open as you watched flames engulf Arthur. His hands burning at your skin and as you looked down all you saw were bones gripping at your thighs “W-what?” you whispered out, your body tensing and Arthur froze too.

His mind went blank as he realised what had happened, and he stammered and stuttered as he tried to think of something to say “Darlin’ I, well, er” Your hand moved to touch the skeleton fingers, and they seemed to change back into his own fingers. And then you realised the flames didn’t really hurt. They were just hot.

Arthur’s eyes widened as he felt your hole clench around him, and it caused him to groan as he thrust into you again. Calming enough that he could morph back into your loving cowboy, his hands gripping your thighs again as he set back into his brutal “Ya like that, dont ya, sugar?” his voice dripped in arousal as he continued the assault on your cunt. This time his touch was accompanied with the flames you seemed to find fascinating. He watched you nod up at him, that devious grin charming up his face.

He brought one of his hands up to your corset, setting it on fire and you gasped as it turned to ash, blowing away in the wind. Mouth going dry as he teased at your hardened nipple, the flame licking at the bud but never burning you. And your hips rolled up forcing more of his cock into you, and your back arched pressing his hand against your breast again. “yeah you like it” came his deep timbre again.

With the added touch of his flames against your skin now, it was easy to get you back into that syrupy head space allowing Arthur to fuck you against the forest floor as he humped into your cunt, his cock dragging along your g-spot in the most delicious way. His words slipping into your ears as he brought you closer and closer to that edge again, his hand making it’s way down your body, burning the pieces of clothing that stopped its path before it could press against your clit.

Your entire body thrummed as he applied some of that heat while he circled your clit, your cunt starting to ache from how he used you and a whimper leaving your mouth as you soaked the floor and Arthur’s pants. He pressed closer to you until you could feel his shirt against your face, his hips keeping your legs apart while his hands moved to grab at the floor. Trying to keep himself grounded as he slowed down his pace “Fuck darlin’!” his voice rang out as you came undone around him.

His eyes rolling as his cock twitched, hot ropes of cum painting your walls white and he stayed as close as possible as his hips rolled and pressed you into the floor. His hands grasped around dirt and leaves as he filled you. “Forgot how good that feels” the outlaws voice was a raspy pant as he breathed heavily above you.

And you both stayed there for a few minutes, until his cock had softened inside you and he pulled out slowly, his hands soothing at your thighs while he shushed you. Your body tensing at the ache between your thighs, and little whimpers left you as he pulled out “I know, I know, ‘m sorry” came the once again gentle Arthur. The one you knew.

As you slowly blinked, trying to gain control over your breathing again, you moved your hand to touch his face. Brow furrowing as you tried to make sense of what you had seen. Not only was the man you loved back from the dead…but he seemed to be some kind of fire skeleton. Confusion swarmed your mind.

The rough man pressed a kiss to your palm, his hand moving to take your own off his face as he gave you a shy smile, his gaze full of concern and something else. Something that seemed awfully similar to that look when he was self-conscious all those years ago “I can explain”

You nodded up at him, looking at him expectedly as he began to explain what had happened. And while it didn’t all make sense to you, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you had Arthut back. Whether he was tethered to this ‘Ghost Rider’ demon or not.

#arthur morgan x femalereader #arthur morgan x reader #arthurmorgan #Arthur morgan xF!reader #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader smut #ghost rider!arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 smut #rdr2 x f!reader

[the-marsh-harrier]

Make me… Pt2 (LH!Arthur Morgan x F!Reader)

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and my second time writing for Arthur, RDR2. I'm easing back into writing after a long break so be kind. I am also writing this quite late so apologies in advance if there are errors. If you're going to share my writing, please reblog and I don't give permission for my work to be copied onto any other platforms. I only write on Tumblr so if you see this anywhere else, it's not me.

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR YOU TO BE READING! OVER 18s ONLY!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual content, NSFW, LH!Arthur as per, fingering, vaginal penetration. (If I missed anything, please let me know)

Terminology: Combinations - combined chemise and drawers into one garment, first appeared in the late 1860s or early 1870s. By the 1890s, combinations had largely replaced the long chemise worn over a separate pair of drawers. (definition by FIDM Museum) 

Make me - Part 1 (recommended read but not required)

Masterlist

“You make the filthiest things sound like a fucking prayer.” You whispered breathlessly as you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Arthur smirked and chuckled lowly in response while one of his hands smoothed over the hair on the side of your head. “The filthiest things are all I deserve, and all I have to give.” He whispered as he took hold of your chin causing you to open your eyes to see his ocean eyes staring back into yours. His eyes held lustful adoration, something far deeper than you’d seen before. You thought you’d seen glimpses of his love for you before now but now you were truly seeing all of it.

“Let me worship you the only way I know how.” He mumbled, giving into his urges, and kissing you with the force only matched by a hurricane.

_____________________________________________________________

His mouth assaulted yours with the ferocity of a cornered animal, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth and firmly stroking yours forcing it into submission. The taste of tobacco and sugar mints coated your tastebuds marking every millimetre of your mouth he bullied. The sting of his coarse beard was momentarily eased by his warm breath escaping from his nose caressing the aggravated skin around your mouth. The kiss forced you to curve under its weight, but he didn’t relent as his calloused left hand tangled into your hair pinning you between its vicelike grip and his greedy lips. He denied you any reprieve resulting in the pair of you snatching any breath that he’d permit.

He caught your lower lip between his jagged teeth, chipped from years of fighting. He sucked the pump skin into his mouth as he slowly pulled back scraping his teeth along the fragile skin enough to cause the sweetest pain but not break its integrity.

With a brutal tug of your hair, he tilted your head back to commence punishing the skin of your neck in the same feral fashion as he had your lips; rewarding him a growl from the back of your throat. He nipped your neck, leaving the skin rouged as a long deep chuckle reverberated against the skin before his lips descended onto your collarbone. His rough tongue teasing the tort skin over the bone as his right hand massaged small circles on your lower back. His hat started to get in his way of his desires to taste the skin on your neck, his hand on your back quickly moved to rip the thing off his head and throw it behind him in the tent before returning to your back.

Your fingers found the cool metal of his gun belt buckle and nibbly released its hold on his hips allowing it to fall to the ground with a soft thud and gentle clang of his pistols. The release of the article making him grunt as his appendage swelled freely in his jeans. He squeezed your body to his with added pressure from his right hand on your back. The hardened bulge in his jeans ground into the bunched-up fabric of your skirts offering you the smallest amount of friction.

“For fucks sake, Arthur… just hurry up.” You groaned quietly as you rolled your hips into his, pulling him closer as your dug your heels into the back of his thighs.

He let out a breathy chuckle as his licked a strong line from your collarbone to your ear. “Shut the fuck up.” He huffed against your ear and grazed his teeth along your earlobe making you shudder.

How left hand moved from your hair, leaving a cold sting on your scalp as the tension on your strands eased, and roamed down the side of your body, groping you as it descended. Both his hands moved under your skirts as he clawed at your thighs and kneaded your muscles. “I’m doing this my fucking way and you’re gonna let me.” He hissed against your ear as his nose nuzzled into your hair affectionately, inhaling your scent.

His fingers played with the lace on your combinations as he teased himself denying the pair of you the sweet sensation of his skin against yours. Your breath grew heavier by the second as you rested your head into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes as you soaked in the bitter frustration of need.

His head came to rest against yours, his eyes closed as focused on the sound of your strained breathing. He shifted his head slightly to place gentle kiss to your temple in one of the rare tender moments you’ve experienced with him; however, it was short lived as you felt his hand push passed the split crotch of your combination. The pressure of his thick fingers at your entrance between your legs made you ache with desire and frustration as your jaw tensed. His left hand continued to toy with the lace of your combinations while his index and middle finger circled your soaked hole collecting the moisture on his fingertips.

He pushed the digits into your core steadily until they were knuckle deep causing a high-pitched gasp to breach your lips.

“Shhhh…” He hushed quietly. “Unless you want Grimshaw or some nosey pervert to come in here, you better shut up.” His voice took on an authoritative hiss as he curled his fingers and stroked your inner walls firmly.

You bit down the collar of his jacket to force yourself to be quiet, huffing your breath out your nose in the same rhythm of his fingers working you. He tilted his head to look down at you with a cocky – almost condescending – smirk. “Do what you gotta, I guess.” He chuckled lowly as his left thumb move to your clit pressing down and massaging slow large circles.

Your breath stuttered through your nose as your back tensed and your thighs squeezed his hips. Your gaze met his, still with the collar of his jacket in your mouth, and you glared sharply up at him. His eyes narrowed causing the creases in the corners to deepen and his smirk widened further. “Oh, you love it so don’t look at me like you don’t.” He whispered lowly, the rasp in his voice thickening with lust.

He pushed his fingers further into you until he found that special spot that makes your hips twitch and grind against his hand. You gasped and bit down harder on the material held in your mouth and growled quietly in pleasure. “Oh, there it is.” He taunted. “Right fucking there, huh?”

You nodded slowly as your rode against the rhythm of his fingers willing your release to come quicker. You continued to glare at him despite the pleasure he was delivering to you as his thumb on your clit massaged smaller circles and quickened to match the pace of his fingers inside you.

Your breath quickened more and more the closer you got to bliss and the icy burning tension in your thighs and lower stomach built. Your toes curled in your boots and your hand gripped his forearm in the tightest grip you could, silently encouraging him to continue the movement of his fingers. Your nails dug into the tanned and scarred flesh leaving crescent shaped indents. He brought your closer and closer to release leaving your teetering on the edge as your body twitched and shook against his. A thin layer of sweat decorated your forehead and chest as you heaved in breath after breath.

He dipped his head next your ear again fanning his warm breath over the sensitive skin. “You look so good like this...” He whispered with an arrogant tone. “So fucking good…”

The tip of his nose traced the shell of your ear as he breathed in deeply. “Do it… I dare you…” He threatened lowly through a small chuckle and that’s all it took to push you over the edge of bliss with a shameless groan. Your whole body tensed, and your thighs clamped round his hips desperately. The roll of your hips giving into the natural pattern your body craved and he willingly gave into with his fingers buried inside you.

His left hand grabbed the back of your neck through your hair pushing your body against his, your senses completely unravelled, and your body curled around his. Arthur pressed a long kiss against the hair on the side of your head as he revelled in the pleasure he’d given you. Your body relaxed and slumped against his as you fought to get more air into your lungs. You let him hold you like that, his fingers now still and motionless inside you, as you came back to your right mind.

You took in a deep breath and leaned back into a seated position, releasing your grip on his arm, and using your hand to support your body on the table.

He slowly removed his finger and held them up examining them and chuckling to himself. “Jesus… you are a messy girl, ain’tcha?”

His ocean eyes locked with yours as his placed his fingers in his mouth and ran his tongue between them to clean them off as he slowly pulled them back out again. “Good thing I like it messy.” He smirked as he dried his fingers of on your petticoat.

You laughed as you leant yourself back on the table, your palms flat to the surface and your head tilted back. His little show of cleaning his fingers somehow stimulating parts of you that you kept shielded away from the world. You heard him undoing his jeans and pulling his full erection from them.

You lifted your head watch him as he lifted your skirts and lined himself up with your dripping core. His gazed fully focused on his cock’s head brushing the opening. He always loved to watch the first push in, he loved watching your body swallow him greedily into its warm and wet embrace.

He looked gorgeous. His eyebrows furrowed in sinful concentration and his lower lip drawn into his mouth and held there by his teeth. His right hand tightly gripping his hardon while his left hand braced on your thigh holding it open to him. He watched eagerly as his cock brushed between your folds, making room for him, and collecting the wetness to make it slide in easier. “Fuck yeah…” he mumbled to himself as he final decided it was time to push into you.

The delicious pressure of him invading your hole sent every nerve on your body on fire with adrenaline, almost like looking over the edge of a tall building. A sharp gasp left your lips as you bit your lip to try and keep your activities a secret to the gang members milling about outside the tent. His head slowly tilted up to look in your eyes as he slowly withdrew partially and pushed further into you, repeating the motion for as long as it took until he was completely sheathed inside you and moving with ease. He gripped your thighs painfully as he rutted into you with force and crashed his lips to yours again in a feverish kiss.

“Such a good fucking cunt.” He grunted against your lips as panted heavily through his pleasure. It was too soon after your last orgasm for you to have another but that didn’t diminish the electric feeling of him pounding into you for his own release.

You sat further forward, cupping his jaw and scratching your nails through his beard. He shuddered as tilted his head back smiling in smug bliss as his eyes closed and a breathy chuckle broke from his lips. The sweat quickly formed on his brow, glistening in the warm glow of the sun in the tent. He shook his head like a wild bison and looked back down to where you were joined at the hips focusing on the image of his cock burying into you with each thrust. He drew his lip back into his mouth and bit it harshly before his darkened eyes locked with yours again.

His expression now almost pleading, showing a sinful innocence as he silently communicated his pleasure and desire through harsh pants through his nose. He was close, so dangerously close but he didn’t want to pull out yet. Not yet, it would always feel too soon.

You pressed your forehead to his, keeping your eyes locked with his as your hand migrated into his hair and tugged it gently. “Fuck it… just do it…” You whispered lowly as you threw caution to the wind. “Fucking cum in me.” You panted and locked your ankles behind his hips making it difficult for him to pull out.

Arthur groaned loudly as he picked up his pace desperately. He wasn’t going to be told twice or give you a chance to reconsider. His hips stuttered and his thrusts became erratic as you watched the muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. He gritted his teeth and growled loudly as his body stilled and his spend pulsed into you. He snatched a breath quickly as his grabbed your hips roughly pulling you closer as his body instinctively pumped everything he had into you. His mouth dropped open as gravelly groans and expletives flowed freely from his lips.

Slowly, the tension left him body as he wrapped his arms round you in a tight embrace and buried his face into your neck in a desperate attempt to get closer to you. He fought to catch his breath as you played with his hair and rubbed his back affectionately as he slowly came back to the realm of the living. He gradually pulled back from your embraced and held your face between his calloused hands softly – his hold so soft almost like he was frightened to break you if it were any firmer.

He looked at you, his eyes showing you all the emotions his heart would allow. His gaze was almost too much, too overwhelming but you couldn’t look away. Everything about this moment pulled at your heartstrings and without thinking to told him how you really felt.

“I love you, Arthur.” You whisper barely above a breath, even though you knew he couldn’t bring himself to say those words himself. He couldn’t let those words pass his lips… but his eyes... his eyes said it better than his tongue ever could.

“I know, baby… I know…” He whispered back as he leant in to kiss you tenderly.

Tags (as requested): @photo1030

A/N: Thank you for reading. This is the end of "Make me..." but I am a lover of LH!Arthur and have more fics planned for him or involving him (SFW and NSFW) and other characters (SFW). As always, likes, reblogs and comments are welcome.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #low honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

[amorgansgal]

Hey! Hope all is well. I was wondering if you can do a sanario where the reader(fem) and Arthur go to Charles Chatenay's art exhibit and reader has portrait of her nude (surprising Arthur). Based off the mission 'The Artist's Way part 3'. Maybe it can go into a smut situation after. Lol thank you!

Hello! All is indeed well :) Hope everything is well with you too! I had actually thought about this scenario previously and how Arthur would react. I've decided to do this as an Arthur realising he has a crush on the reader, rather than smut, but I hope you enjoy!

‘That’s my husband!’

‘That’s my wife!’

‘That’s my mother, you cad!’

Arthur was in the middle of chaos, handbags were flying, fists whirling, hats sailing through the air as people punched and kicked anyone near them. He was laughing at the madness of the once civilised and calm room that had erupted into shouts, yells and screams. A loud groaning crash and smashing of glass from the other room told him someone had fallen against the table, which had bottles of champagne and finely crafted crystal glasses. It was insanity and he had better find Charles Châtenay before the man was pummelled to death or arrested!

He headed into another room off the main hall, where he had seen Charles run off into and was about to follow the stairs down, when he had to take another look at a painting he passed. He slammed to a halt and stared at the portrait of you. Before he realised what the hell he was doing and quickly looked away. What on earth…? How did…? Why were you naked?

Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was just a model who looked very much like you. He would just check, just make sure it was someone else. It had to be. Why would you model for Châtenay? When would you have done so? Why would you have done so?

He very deliberately looked up and focused on the face, rather than anywhere else. He swallowed thickly. There was no mistaking it, that was you. Your eyes had that same challenging, fierce look he had seen both at robberies or when teasing him in camp or when trying to win at dominos when you played with Hosea. The corner of your lips quirked upwards, all too ready to relax into a full smile, but still cautious, just a small hint of wickedness. Arthur’s eyes drifted lower to your neck, shoulders and the hollow of your throat. His cheeks flamed pink and he focused his attention back on the floor. Had your skin always looked like that? Did it have that soft, warm glow about it, or was that part of the painting?

The door crashed open and Arthur jumped, ready to swing a punch if needed. But it was only Charles Châtenay.

‘Ah! My friend, so glad I could find you! Come, let us go, these mad animals do not appreciate my art!’ Châtenay grabbed hold of his sleeve, but Arthur stayed where he was and pointed with his finger to the painting on the wall, but avoided looking at it.

‘What the hell? When did you paint… that? Her?’

‘Oh that? She is a beaut, no? So rare for a woman to not look ashamed or hide herself away. I tell you, you get me out of this mess with my wonderful face intact, you can have that one. I do think it is one of my best, no?’

‘NO!’ Arthur yelled, then calmed himself. ‘I know her. She’s my…’ Arthur blushed further, what the hell were you to him. He could hardly say just a friend. But he had no claim over you.

‘Ahh, you Americans, always making things needlessly complicated! Come on, we talk later!’ Châtenay insisted, trying to move down the stairs, but with Arthur’s tight grip on his arm finding that difficult.

‘Why did you paint her?’ he growled.

‘Because she was pretty and there in my studio and because I had paints to do so. What do you want from me?’

‘And yer couldn’t do that with her clothes on?’

‘I asked her politely. I would not force those who did not want to. She agreed. If you know her, why not ask her yourself? Now come on!’

Arthur took another glance at the painting and then immediately felt guilty for doing so. He focused his attention on the stairs and hurried down after the mad bastard of a painter! Once they had snuck out the back door and made their way through a maze of alleys and passages, Châtenay thanked Arthur for his help and disappeared into a house.

Arthur stepped away from the building and returned to the main thoroughfare of the street. He took a moment to catch his breath and leaned against a wall. He wiped away the humidity of Saint Denis from his neck and tried his best not to think about the way your skin had gleamed, as though you were standing in a forest and the late afternoon sun was turning everything about you to gold. He rubbed his hand furiously over his face and pinched his nose. He needed a drink, a good strong one, needed to get your bold eyes and wicked, small smile from his mind.

~~~

Something was up. Something was definitely off. Arthur was acting very strangely. He either spent his time gazing over your head or staring down at his boots. You weren’t quite sure what you had done to… offend the man? You could only assume that he was offended in some way, though you couldn’t think of any occasion which would warrant that!

It didn’t really help that everyone else seemed to have noticed his odd behaviour. You had heard from Mary-Beth that Hosea had approached Arthur quietly about it, saying he was acting peculiarly. But Arthur had apparently changed the subject and then immediately galloped off on his horse. He had been gone for several days, though no one could say when he would be back or if he was even out on a job.

You had been keeping an eye on the entrance to camp, waiting to catch him before he had the chance to hurry off elsewhere and avoid you again. You had wondered if you could avoid talking to him, but with everyone else making comments and coming up with their own theories as to what crime you had committed, you thought it would be best to deal with the issue… Whatever it was!

You were slightly worried he might sneak back into camp during the dead of night and then head out again come early morning. But you were banking on him relying on the fact that usually you would be sat with the other women. Fortunately, today you were helping Pearson chop vegetables and so could keep an eye on the path that led into Shady Belle.

You were just sharpening the dull knife Pearson had given you, when you heard hooves on the ground and looked up to see Arthur ride in. You didn’t even bother to remove the apron you were wearing and just tossed the knife to one side on the board. You hurried up the path and immediately saw Arthur’s look of utter panic at your approach.

‘Arthur!’ you called out, before he could pretend to have not seen or heard you!

‘I… uh… Miss Y/N, sorry I really got to speak to Dutch, I can’t-’

‘Oh no you don’t!’ you said, grabbing hold of his sleeve. ‘I need to speak to you urgently.’

‘But I got to-’

‘You can give me five minutes of your time, then speak to Dutch.’

He looked down at his boots, twisting his heel into the mud and grass, putting you in mind of a naughty schoolboy who’s got caught cheating or stolen a cookie. His cheeks were a dull pink and he avoided your eye, keeping his head lowered so the brim of his hat covered his face.

‘Arthur, please. Everyone in camp is trying to guess why I’ve pissed you off and I want to know what it is I’ve done to annoy you!’

‘What?’ he almost staggered back and stared at you in confusion. Christ, he hadn’t thought he was being subtle, had he?

‘Well, you’ve been avoiding me, not talking to me properly or even wanting to look at me. It’s only fair to assume I’ve done something.’

‘You ain’t done anythin’.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you treating me differently to how you would normally?’

‘I ain’t been treatin’ you differently.’

‘Arthur!’

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, casting a quick glance towards the house, as though debating whether he could try to run to the safety of his room without you tackling him! He let out a small groan, then rubbed the bridge of his nose and forehead.

‘Look, it weren’t my fault… I had no idea, alrigh’?’

‘What wasn’t your fault?’ you asked suspiciously.

‘I met this strange French man in a saloon, we got drinking and talking, and he invited me to his art show-’

You felt your cheeks flush immediately and your stomach lurched uncomfortably as you realised all too quickly who Arthur had met and what he might have seen. ‘Oh God…!’ you whispered.

Arthur had seen you naked, completely stark naked. You had been banking on no one from the Van Der Linde gang visiting an art show of all things! Molly maybe, but she spent most of her days upstairs, crying pathetically and being ignored by everyone else. Dutch would’ve gone if there was someone to impress, but you doubted he would bother with everything else going on.

‘EXACTLY!’ Arthur yelled, then quietened his voice as Charles and Javier looked his way from where they had been sat by the campfire. ‘But more importantly, why the hell were you… doin’ somethin’ like that?’

‘I just… Look it was good money and all I had to do was stand still-’

‘Without yer clothes on!’ Arthur hissed. You were tempted to laugh, he sounded like a scandalised spinster aunt, rather than a rough outlaw who robbed banks and trains for a living! ‘If yer needed money why didn’ you ask to come on-?’

‘Look Arthur, I just wanted to do something myself without having to shoot people. It was quick, easy money and I didn’t think you’d go to an art show!’

‘Well, I did! Turned into a complete riot and then I come face to face with yer…’ the blush on his cheeks darkened and he gestured towards your chest.

You couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you. ‘Not really face to face, face to chest.’

Arthur scowled. ‘Oh sure, I’m sure you think it’s very funny! But how am I meant to not think about…’ His eyes suddenly widened. ‘Not that I do think about it. I don’, tha’s why I’ve been avoidin’ yer.’

You sighed. ‘You can’t avoid me forever, Arthur. I knew people were going to see the painting, just was banking on maybe everyone else here not seeing it. And what sense does it make that you’re more offended by me being painted entirely naked, than me murdering people?’

‘I ain’t offended… jus’ was a bit shocked, tha’s all.’

‘Ok, well can we just forget that it happened and carry on like normal?’

His gaze was back on his boots and he briefly lifted his hand once more to scratch his neck, but you caught it and managed to lift his chin so he would look at you. His eyes widened once more and you saw how his breath caught in his throat.

‘Please Arthur?’ you asked.

‘Sure,’ he quickly muttered.

‘Good.’ You dropped his hand and stepped back, though he seemed frozen to the spot. You weren’t sure what else you could say or do. ‘Dinner will be ready soon,’ you called over your shoulder as Arthur stayed where he was.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x f/reader #arthur morgan x f reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #charles chatenay

[12welveinched]

A HIT DOG WILL HOLLA. If my comment offended you, then YOU ARE THE PROBLEM. You support women until one disagrees with you. What's up with that? Also, I find it interesting how I was told to stop reading fanfic because "I can't handle it." I don't know one mentally secure person who wants to read about THEMSELVES being raped, abused, touched by a family member (blood or not), and constantly being degrated. Some stories depict the reader being MURDERED. I don't understand how any of those things are a "kink."

You're against rape and abuse, but you like the idea of it happening to you. It's weird how people don't see how condescending it is to be against these acts but find it to be sexy.

Just admit that my take on your self-esteem is what really got you mad. You're mentally ill, that's why you don't understand.

The positive of the replies is that everyone agreed that pedophilia is disgusting.

#sukuna x reader #eddie munson x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #arthur morgan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #billy hargrove x reader #tony stark x reader #leon kennedy x reader #john marston x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #tommy shelby x reader #f!reader #steve harrington x reader #negan smith x reader

[cowboydisaster]

Hey could you write a little fic about Arthur hearing fem reader crying and comforting her? Really pile up the fluff if you decide to write please 🩷🩷 love your stuff so much xxx

A Shoulder to Cry on

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 1000

a/n: Thank you for this sweet prompt, nonny! I was looking to write some fluff and this was perfect.

beta read by @margowritesthings

You feel foolish for even crying, but you can't bring yourself to stop the glistening tears from streaming down your face. You’re petrified, miles away from your former camp, stuck up in the Grizzlies. The Pinkertons are on your tail like a cat on a mouse, and you know it’s only a matter of time before they inevitably catch you. Your time is running out. You’ve had a good run with the van der Linde gang, but it’s time is nigh on done. It's a daunting realization, especially after losing so many folks back in Blackwater. 

Because of your position in the gang, you’ve been given your own bedroom in the same cabin as Arthur, Dutch and Hosea. It's a cold room, but better than what most of the gang have. The wind whistles outside as thick snowflakes land on the roof, causing ice cold water to drip repetitively from the ceiling above. The wind and the leak intertwine with your cries, forming a sad, sad song. 

You sit on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest, sobbing into them with no sign of stopping. You try to keep quiet as your breathing comes in shudders, and your shoulders shake violently. There is an ache in your ribs from the sobs erupting from your chest, but it pales in comparison to the ache in your heart. You hiccup, catching your breath, and unknowingly alerting Arthur who is walking by to catch some shut eye. 

With his eyebrows pulled together in worry, he gently nudges your door open. You don’t even look up, and he stands in the doorway for a moment, glancing over your curled up, crumbling form. Of course, he knows what's wrong, and his heart shatters at the sight of you looking so broken. His heart– it’s been longing for your own for so long, and seeing you like this breaks him. 

“Oh, darlin…” He murmurs, stepping forward in only a few strides. You hear his boots clicking against the floor before the bed dips under his weight, and then his big, warm arms are around you. 

“I'm so sorry.” He whispers.

There’s something about his arms around you. They are sturdy and unmoving, and yet piece by piece, they begin to build your broken heart back together. There’s so much safety and comfort in his arms, you’re sure that he could protect you even from the storms raging in the Grizzlies with his hugs. You wrap your arms under his, hands on his back as you sniffle and cry into his shirt. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Arthur asks quietly, swaying you lightly in his arms as he shields you from your pain and the cold. Arthur doesn’t push you. He knows exactly how you feel, and opening up about these things is far from easy in his own experience. The gang– it’s coming to an end, and you both know it. Now you just have to find a way to exit peacefully, hopefully taking those that you love with you. 

"Shh, shh. You're okay." He coos, tucking your head under his chin.

Arthur is radiating with warmth, and you feel the frostbite leaving your nose as you nuzzle into his chest. His thumb reaches up to wipe away a fresh tear as he frowns lightly at the sight of you so upset. Your skin is soft against Arthur’s calloused hand, and your eyes slip closed as you savor the feeling of his touch.

“I’m scared, Arthur.” You admit, lip trembling as silent tears slide down your frozen cheeks. 

“I know you are, I know, but I will get you out of this mess. I promise you.” Arthur swears, resting back against the headboard as his mind runs rampant. He can’t let you die for this gang, and he’ll get you out safely if it's the last thing he does. 

“You just rest now, alright? You don’t gotta worry no more. I gotcha now.” Arthur murmurs, laying down with you nuzzled into his side. You cuddle against him as tightly as you can manage, placing your head on his chest as you nod your head. For the first time since Blackwater, the trails of tears from your reddened eyes cease.

Arthur’s hand runs soothingly up and down your back as he makes sure you’re comfortable and taking deep breaths. He wishes he could take this pain away from you, but he knows he can't. All he can do is hold you. 

Your eyes slip shut as you nuzzle against his blue wool coat, your cries dying down to soft sniffles. 

"Feelin' any better?" Arthur asks, watching as your breathing settles back to normal. Your cheeks are red from the cold, and your lashes stick together from sticky tears. Arthur pulls the blankets up over the two of you, not wanting you to catch a cold. 

"I am now that you’re here." You whisper, feeling a heavy tiredness fall over you. Arthur is so comfortable, and you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. Arthur can tell you're drifting off, and he wraps his arms around you tighter for it. 

"It's okay, get some sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up." Arthur murmurs. Seeking more of his comfort, and taking another step towards telling him how you feel, you unwrap one of his arms from your body. Arthur's eyebrows pull together, and at first he's worried that he's crossed a line until you intertwine your fingers with his own and hold your joined hands against his chest. 

Arthur smiles down at your hands, watching your face relax as you finally drift to sleep. He'll hold you the rest of the night, making sure you're okay. 

"I'll get you outta this mess." He reiterates, "If it's the last thing I do, I won't let you die for these fools." 

He hopes that you'll go with him, run away to some place far. Arthur's never been one to daydream of pleasantries, but you make him want a home, a family. He'd leave the gang for you, he'd buy a home and work an honest job just so he could come home to you. He'd make you proud. 

But for now, all he can do is hold you, comfort you from the storm outside alongside the one raging in your mind. Now the only sounds in the room are the leaking roof and your light snores as you take comfort in the first safety you've felt in days. Arthur will always be that comfort for you. 

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption two #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x f!reader #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan fluff

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter16:  Feelings Revealed

PART 2 - WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Summary: After Arthur’s rejection, tensions run high between the two of you and decisions need to be made.

*As always, special thank you to my best-y @rivetingrosie4​ for beta-reading and all the helpful notes & encouragement. 

*Full disclosure: The line about “the moon and stars” further in the story is based on a meme I read. And I have images from @red-dead-simp​ and @regwishesshehadmagic​ in here. 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

*This stunning image comes from @red-dead-simp​

Tag List:  @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola @kmartkiddieisle @red-dead-simp​ @regwishesshehadmagic​

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know.

The ride back to camp from the overlook is terribly awkward. Your mind is blank and foggy and your body numb as you sit slightly slumped in Blue's saddle. You are reeling from the preceding events. You keep your horse moving at a quicker pace to stay ahead of Arthur's as you head home. Any time that you hear him approaching closer to you, your muscles tense up and you spur your heels into Blue's side to encourage him to go just a bit faster to maintain the distance between you. You can't even bring yourself to look at Arthur for fear of shattering into inconsolable pieces out of humiliation.  

For Arthur, the entire ride back is riddled with regret and second-guessing. He casts his gloomy eyes on your backside the entire way home, without so much as a glance back or sound from you. It causes his heart to break in two. And oh, how he wants to give the other half of it to you. But as he looks down at his gnarled hands and the worn metal of the guns that hang so naturally on his hips, he knows this is the way it has it be. He is going to keep you safe, whether you like it or not. You may hate him for it, but at least you'll be alive to do it.

When you hit the treeline of the camp, you push Blue just a bit faster and lead him to the far end of the hitching posts, determined to stay as far away from Arthur as you can for the time being. You quickly dismount, with the hair on the back of your neck standing up as you feel his eyes watching you, while keeping your back to the man. Once you have Blue settled in for the day, you make haste to head to your tent, walking briskly and keeping your head down. Your eyes stay focused along the soft grass at your feet, desperate to avoid any attention from anyone else in camp. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear Karen calling your name, but you pretend not to hear her. You are not in the mood for visiting and carrying-on with your friends right now.

As soon as you reach your tent, your trembling fingers fumble to draw the sides down, a clear indication that you do not want to be disturbed. You can only hope that no one hears you sobbing quietly within the canvas. You are numb, totally and completely, as you fold your arms around yourself to keep from shaking. You cannot wrap your swimming mind around what has just happened. You poured your heart out to Arthur. You literally begged the man to be with you. And he rejected you. And worse yet, he basically severed himself from you in the process.

Arthur slowly climbs down from his own horse upon arrival, and silently watches you walk away and head to your tent. Regret coats his insides like water pouring over a river rock. But he doesn't have time to wallow too long. The man isn't even in camp for five minutes and Dutch is calling his name. He lets out a heavy groan, accompanied by a long sigh, at the sound of Dutch's voice carrying through the camp. Dutch is the last thing he wants to deal with right now.

Of course, Arthur's heavy footfalls and scowl are lost on Dutch as he approaches the older man's tent. Arthur is his guard dog; Dutch is used to seeing him angry and sullen. In fact, he almost prefers it. Dutch needs him this way. Arthur stands in front of Dutch's tent, his gaze unfocused and mind wandering as Dutch speaks to him. The man's deep voice sounds muffled in Arthur's ear as he half-halfheartedly pays attention to what is being said to him, his mind somewhere else entirely.

"Think you can handle that?" Dutch's words finally catch Arthur's attention, snapping him out of his listless thoughts.

Arthur lifts his eyes to meet Dutch's expectant gaze. "Whatever. Just make sure the tip is solid and I'll make it work."

------------------

Arthur takes advantage of the quick job Dutch sends him on the day that you have confessed your feelings for him. He smartly uses the opportunity to give you some breathing room and time to calm down a bit. After checking in with Dutch upon his return, he heads over to his tent to put away his things and takes a minute to breathe. Arthur stands with his thumbs hanging from his gun belt as he surveys the camp, checking the state of things. His body naturally falls into this stance whenever he stands still for a moment. And right now, he is more weary than he’s been in a long while.

His wandering eyes eventually find you working alone in your med-tent. Your hair is pulled back and out of your face so you can work, but a few tendrils of soft locks have escaped and dangle to frame your face. Your hands move slowly, practically dancing around the bowl that has enveloped your attention. Arthur takes in the heavenly sight of you, standing in a simple white blouse and green skirt set comfortably upon your hips, mulling over what he should do, as he nervously chews his plump bottom lip for a moment. Eventually, he decides to see how things feel between you two and tentatively makes his way over to your med-tent.

Arthur kneads his thumb into the palm of the opposite hand nervously while he waits for you to notice him standing there outside the tent.  He stands with an uneasy grin, fidgeting slightly. "Hey you.”

You briefly look up from the steaming bowl of herbs and boiling water that you are stirring, careful not to look him in the eye for too long. "What can I do for you, Arthur?" Your voice carries none of the usual excitement that he hears when you see him.

Arthur's face drops, disappointed with your short reply. He clears his throat to attempt to dislodge the knot there before trying to continue. "I was out earlier and found some of that yarrow and dandelion root you use all the time. Grabbed some for you." He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a bundle of the fragrant herbs. He carefully unwraps them from the white cotton rag he's kept them in and holds them out to you with his large hands. A hopeful look sits upon his brow as he cranes his neck a bit to see if this peace offering will get you to look at him.

"Thank you. You can set them down on the table there," you instruct softly, pointing to the end of the table with your wooden spoon. Usually you'd jump at the chance to take something from Arthur, seizing any opportunity to touch his hands and for your fingers to teasingly graze across each other’s. But not this time. And this deviation in your behavior isn’t lost on Arthur, either.

"I could take you out and show you where I found it, if you like? In case you need more?" He gingerly sets the bundle of plants down, watchful for your reaction.

“Actually, that bundle there will last me awhile. But thank you.” With a quick and awkward smile, you return your full attention to the steaming liquid in front of you.

“Sure” he murmurs, feeling crushed. Arthur stands there a moment longer, as there is usually some sort of chatter from you. You always try to utilize his attention as much as you can when you have it. But now, you venture nothing else for him. So he turns and walks away, his boots slow to move in the grass. He does not notice that you discreetly reach up to wipe a rogue tear that escapes and cascades down your cheek as he turns away.

And so it goes on this way for a few days. You speak to Arthur only when he speaks to you, and even then, it's simple exchanges. There's no more joking or banter between you. Gone are the stolen glances and discreet blushes when catching each other staring. You have no harshness towards him, of course. But you can't bring yourself to maintain the flirtatious nature of your relationship either. You are not mad at Arthur after your revelation at the overlook, nor are you mean to him. You simply treat him like anyone else. Which, as it turns out, is something that Arthur is not prepared for. He is used to your smiles and greetings just for him. He is used to being special to you. But now, Arthur is just like everyone else in the gang.

This change in the dynamic weighs heavily on Arthur. His feelings aside, he simply misses you. It's been a long time since Arthur has had someone he can talk to and confide in. For someone who is generally annoyed by other people, Arthur has found that he enjoys your specific company. Your conversations and activities together range from the profound and insightful to the delightfully mundane and ordinary. In fact, he has come to need your companionship to balance the negativity of his life. Your softness counteracts the harshness that he experiences every time he is away from you. He craves the blissful distraction that your honey-sweet voice offers him.

One afternoon, Arthur decides to make another attempt to talk about this precarious situation. He catches you by the laundry while you are hanging today's wash to dry. You notice him out of the corner of your eye making his way over to you and you can feel your stomach start to churn as you avert your eyes to the task at hand.

He stops just in front of you as his hand comes up to rub against his chin nervously. "Y/N? Can I talk to you a minute, please?"

With a blank stare, you say nothing in response. You slowly lower your hands from the clothes line, twirling the clothes pins in your hands in distraction.

"Look, I know you're not happy with me right now, and I understand that," he starts. "But I was hoping we could still be friendly and all." Arthur's sapphire eyes search yours, looking for some indication that you are willing to put this unpleasantness behind you both.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you hesitate before you answer him. "Did you change your mind?"

"No," he shakes his head, glancing down at his boots. "No, I can't go about that. But I want things to just go back to how they were between us." Arthur is a simple man, and he is also a creature of habit. He is used to your presence in his life and, more importantly, the impact that you have on it.

“It doesn’t work like that, Arthur." You furrow your brows at him, finally speaking more than a few words at a time. "I understand your reasoning, I suppose. I don’t agree with it, but I accept it." You pause, looking down as your eyes begin to flutter at the emotional wave that you are trying to halt in your gut before you continue. "You’re allowed to feel what you do about it. I suppose I can’t be angry with you for that." Rolling the smooth wooden clothespins between your fingertips and inhaling deeply through your nose, you lift your chin to catch his gaze again. "But don’t expect me to act like nothing happened, Arthur.”

"I just can’t go down that road again, (Y/N)," he says, gesturing with his palm out, imploring you to understand. "Besides, I just want you to have a normal life."

With a slight shake of your head, you look up into his face. "Arthur, I have no interest in a 'normal life'. And besides, my life has been anything but normal already."

His only response is an eye roll before looking off to the side in frustration, trying not to start a fight with you again. The movement causes a pang of annoyance to strike in your chest as your hand plants onto your hip.

"I don't need your constant protection, Arthur." Your statement comes across a little more harshly than you intend to when you notice he is trying not to look you in the eye.

It is a comment that makes him slowly turn his face back to you with a sarcastic scowl. "Oh, I beg to differ on that one." God, the condescension is almost tangible.

You let out a deep and disappointed sigh as you study him a moment. "Nevermind. You just don’t get it." Shaking your head and dismissing this whole conversation, you bend over and harshly snatch up the laundry basket at your feet. You maneuver around him to head back to the tents and leave him standing there.

---------------------

By this point, you have become quiet and melancholy around camp. Everyone notices that you're not your usual bubbly self, as you seem to float through camp now, rather than be a part of it. Always observant, Abigail has had enough and pins you down to ask what the hell is going on with you.

"Why are you and Arthur so odd lately? Did something happen? Did you have a fight or something?" She eyes you suspiciously, handing you a cup of coffee while you and the girls take a break from chores and sit at one of the tables. The weather is still fairly warm today and everyone is bustling about to prepare for the oncoming colder months ahead.

You look over at Abigail with a woeful look as you accept the hot cup. "I told Arthur how I feel about him."

The girls all gasp in excitement, eager to finally talk about this thrilling topic. But your somber expression immediately halts their celebratory giggles.

"I don't understand, (Y/N), why aren't you more excited about this?" asks Tilly, leaning in closer to you from across the table to know more, astonishment draped across her cherub face.

You stare listlessly at the cup in your hands. "He turned me down. He said no."  

“He said what?!” Abigail’s eyes shoot wide before quickly screwing down in confusion.

“No! Why would he say that?” breathes Mary-Beth in hushed wonder, bringing her hand up to her mouth in shock. She exchanges a confused glance with Tilly before looking back to you, anxious for details.

You shrug softly with a sorrowful smile. “He doesn’t think he’s good enough for me, I guess.”

“Well, duh, of course he isn’t!” Karen blurts out with a wave of her hand before it slams down onto the table with a loud clap next to you. “But let’s be honest, there probably isn’t a man alive who is.”

“He’s entitled to his decision,” you quietly repeat the worn excuse you had given to Arthur already. “Besides, he’s been hurt before. I suppose I can’t blame him.”

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard," argues Karen, her pouty red lips frowning. "Do you want me to go talk some sense into him, honey? I’ll put my foot in his ass and set him straight.” Her doll-like eyes burn with intensity as she crosses her arms over her chest in a huff.

“No, no." You can’t help but smile at your friend's defense of you as the image of Karen taking on Arthur makes you chuckle a bit. "I can’t force him to be with me and I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense, (Y/N),” Mary-Beth points out. “I mean, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. And when you two are dancin’ by the fire… I wish I had that.” Mary-Beth is so sweet and always the hopeless romantic of your circle. And while all of the girls have been pulling for you and Arthur to be together, it is always Mary-Beth who is the biggest supporter of it. When you had your hang-over confession of your crush on Arthur after your drunken night out with Karen, Mary-Beth told you that you and Arthur are like a real-life story out of one of her romance novels. At the time, you dismissed the silly notion as nothing more than a foolish daydream. But, still, it was a comment that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

With a dejected sigh, your chin lands into the palm of your hand. Your shoulders sink as you lean onto the table. "Well, doesn’t matter now, does it?"

There is an awkward stillness as this discussion settles amongst your little group. Frankly, the girls are speechless. But your quiet moment with the girls doesn't last too long before Ms. Grimshaw saunters over and disperses you all. As long as there is daylight, there is work to do, and she will make damn sure that it gets done. Dividing up the chores between you all, the matriarch ushers you and Abigail over to Pearson's wagon to start prepping vegetables for tonight's dinner. You grab yourself a cutting board and a bowl of potatoes and amble over to a small work table to start peeling.

Once she has Jack occupied, Abigail grabs a bowl of carrots for herself and sits down across the table from you. She watches you with a heartbroken and disappointed look as you set about your task. You and she have become quite close since you've come here to join the Van Der Linde gang. While she certainly cares for Arthur as her own family, she feels just awful for you. She knows how much you care for Arthur. It's so obvious in everything that you do. And she knows that you could make Arthur truly happy, too. 'Damn him,' Abigail thinks to herself. 'Why does he have to be so god-awful stubborn?'

"I’m sorry, (Y/N), really I am." Abigail's voice breaks the painful silence as the two of you work. You look up at her with the eyes of a puppy that's been kicked. "I don’t know what’s gotten into Arthur. I really thought he’d jump at the chance to call you his," she insists tenderly.

You nod in understanding, but honestly, the whole situation is becoming exhausting. You've tried so hard to come to terms with it, but it's becoming harder than you expected. “Maybe it was a mistake to come here," you admit softly, your voice slightly broken. "But back home in the east, I have nowhere to go, and I can’t go back to Rosewood." You reach into the bowl of potatoes again, your fingers working as you precariously drag the knife over the starchy vegetables. "But, I don’t want to be a problem here either, though. I’d leave here but I'm afraid to even do that." You cringe internally at how pathetic you sound, especially complaining to Abigail who has had her fair share of hardship in this world.

She observes you with a sympathetic click of her tongue being the only sound she is able to muster at the moment as you continue.

"You know," lifting your eyes back Abigail, "Arthur said I shouldn’t even be here. Suppose he’s right about that. As usual." You roll your eyes a bit. "I guess I just don’t belong anywhere."

Abigail reaches over the table and wraps her hand over top of yours. "Oh, (Y/N) please don’t say that. Of course you belong here." She affectionately squeezes your hand a bit more. "Don't listen to that fool. You're one of us now." Chuckling, she adds, "Whether you like it or not."

You finally stop peeling potatoes and give her a tired but appreciative smile. "It's times like this that I really miss my father, you know? At least we were misfits together.” Your face drops a bit at the memory of him. You and he came out west together to start a new life and, well, that is certainly what has happened. You have forged a new path for yourself with this gang of thieves and miscreants and found a new family within it.

But still, you miss your father terribly, as he was always your one true and unyielding ally in this world. There have been many moments where you have caught yourself in tears and heartache over his abrupt death. While the members of the Van Der Linde gang have been most gracious in welcoming you into their circle, that pang of sorrow still lingers like a fresh wound. And now in light of this situation with Arthur, it seems to have come back to the surface ten-fold as you're not sure what to do now. Your father was always such a kind and understanding man, very pragmatic. You’d give anything just to have his council again.

After the two of you are done helping Mr. Pearson with dinner, you head back to the privacy of your tent to nurse a throbbing headache, and Abigail wanders over to the fire with Jack in tow. While her boy plays with his wooden figurines at her feet, Abigail sits cross-legged on the ground with her chin in her hand, staring into the crackling flames with a contemplative scowl on her face. Soon enough, an all-too familiar raspy voice catches her attention.

"Oh boy, who's on your shit-list now?" jokes John as he playfully tugs on the few wisps of hair that hang from her loose bun and dance along the nape of her neck. He slowly lowers himself to sit next to her, leaning out onto his knees with his elbows. "I'm hopin' it ain't me." He bumps into her shoulder with a smirk.

She snorts in his direction. "No, for once, it's not you. It's that idiot brother of yours."

John listens to Abigail vent her frustrations out to him as she goes on for a good twenty minutes. (Honestly, it feels good to him to not be the target of her ire for a change.) And after hearing of what is going on between you two, John decides to talk to Arthur about it. He actually agrees with his woman for once and wants to see if he can nudge Arthur in the right direction. You and John may have gotten off on the wrong foot when you first came to join the gang, but since then, he has come to be quite fond of you. He appreciates the friendship you have provided for Abigail, and you’ve helped him to create a better relationship with her. And, as much as he and Arthur bicker, John has to admit that you are good for Arthur. Plus, if he doesn't talk to Arthur, Abigail certainly will. And John will try to spare his brother her wrath that he knows all too well himself.

John finds Arthur over by the horses, getting them fed and watered for the night before everyone settles in by the fires. He saunters over to Arthur, no announcement, no greeting. He just blurts out “Are you crazy?!"

Arthur halts in his movements, looking over his shoulder and giving John a confused look. "What in the hell are you goin' on about now, Marston?"

"You have a woman like (Y/N) throwing herself at you and you say 'no'?! Jesus, I don’t ever want to hear you talk about how stupid I am!” John plants his hands on his narrow hips as he scolds the man in front of him. Arthur just gives him another confused look. "Abigail told me," replies John. "Apparently (Y/N) is all upset and was talking to Abigail about it."

Arthur rolls his eyes to the sky. "Shit..."  

"And before you get all mad at (Y/N) for blabbin', Abigail had to drag it out of her," John says quickly. "She was wonderin' why (Y/N)'s been actin' funny the last few days. "

"Oh..." Arthur sighs. He tosses the horse brush that is in his hand into the bucket at his feet and shoves his fingertips into his eye sockets in frustration. Great. Now the whole damn camp is going to know his business. "It ain’t that easy, Marston." He offers John his feeble excuse with a dismissive wave of his arm towards his brother.

John rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Well, what’s so damn hard about it, Arthur? She likes you, you like her - and don't tell me that you don't!" he quickly points his finger at Arthur before the man can even deny it. "It don’t get much easier than that!"

"What if..." Arthur's hand waves haplessly in the air, his eyes scattering across the camp, as he tries to find the words. "What if I get her killed? Huh?" A long, depressed sigh escapes his chest as he turns to lean his burly arms out over top of Buck's backside as he thinks. "Or, what if she decides that she really doesn't like me after all?" His chin turns back over his shoulder to meet John's questioning gaze again. "What then?"

"Well, that's a real possibility. I mean, I've known you for years and I still don't like you," John snickers.

"Don't be an ass," Arthur snaps back.

John proudly places his hand over his chest. "I can honestly say that for once, between the two of us, Arthur, I am not the ass in this situation here."

“She deserves better than the likes of me,” Arthur continues, flipping his hand about wildly again to indicate himself and the camp. And as he hears his own words hanging in the air, Arthur knows he's trying to convince himself more than John right now. Deep down, he's desperately trying to justify the huge mistake he knows that he is making.

“Well, that goes without saying." John walks a few steps closer to Arthur, casually patting Buck's hind quarters as he speaks. "But I say, if you really want (Y/N) to be happy, then just give her what she wants. And for whatever reason, that’s you, jack-ass." He looks his brother in the eye, an impish grin on his thin lips. "(Y/N) is not dumb, Arthur. Did you ever stop to think that if someone like her fancies you, then you can’t be all that bad?”

Arthur thinks on this for a moment, stunned by this idea. He's never considered it from that perspective. His vividly colored eyes dart around as the notion rolls about in his head. "You know, Marston, you may not be all that dense, after all."

John simply snorts in response. "Well, ain't that hard, considering the company that I keep."

"I can't believe I'm taking relationship advice from you of all people," Arthur mutters, as he draws his hand over his face in disbelief.

"I know, right?" John chuckles a bit as he slaps Arthur on the shoulder.

To Arthur's surprise, his talk with John actually makes him feel better. He decides to try to make things up to you, or to at least make the focused effort to go back to how things were before. But to his dismay, you resist his advances. You are trying to keep your distance from him at this point, avoiding him whenever you can, as you find that it's just too painful to be around him. You eat your meals in your tent, and you keep to yourself when you work. You are not unkind or rude to Arthur, using only simple one word answers when you have to talk to him. But there is no fondness or attachment with him as usual. The familiarity between the two of you has dwindled like a dying candle flame about to be swallowed in a bed of used wax.

You strategically place yourself the furthest away from Arthur whenever he is in camp, volunteering for any task that Ms. Grimshaw has available to keep yourself preoccupied. Grimshaw hates it when you girls are interrupted from whatever work she has dictated you to do. So you will use her iron-will to your advantage to shield yourself from Arthur if you can.

Aside from washing laundry all day, you run errands with Mr. Pearson, run scouts with Javier, and try to get out of camp altogether whenever you have the opportunity. You jump at the chance to go hunting with Charles any time he offers. In fact, you have come to rely on Charles quite a bit lately. Charles naturally has a calming presence about him and he has become a great comfort to you. He himself is also a bit of a loner and outsider in this group, and you have found a kindred spirit in him.

At one point you are in your tent cleaning up and turn to head out to find Charles. You are not paying attention, looking down as you shake out the jacket in your hands and you run right into Arthur, almost bouncing off of his chest. He has come to try to talk to you yet again, and corners you by your tent. He is standing in front of you with his thumbs tucked into his gun belt, as he usually does, but this time he has a slight scowl set upon his face, his eyes dark. If you didn't know him better, you'd be intimidated by his demeanor standing there.

You gasp, jumping slightly and placing a hand over your chest in surprise. "Jesus, Arthur! You scared the hell out of me!"  

“Figured I had to sneak up on you lest you run away from me again," he retorts, his voice carrying a tinge of annoyance to it. "What, are you trying to make me jealous by hangin' 'round with other men, now?”

You halt at his accusation, your face twisting up. "Excuse me?"

“You’ve been hangin' 'round with Charles quite a bit lately." His eyes level at you with a cold and mirthless stare.

"Have I?" Your reply is sarcastically innocent. You do not care for his insinuation in the slightest, and now it is you who is getting annoyed.

"Yeah, you have," Arthur pushes. "You won’t go out hunting with me, but you’ll go out with him.” He juts his thumb over his shoulder back at the camp behind him.

“I like Charles," you counter harshly. "He doesn’t talk much. I don’t have to worry about stupid shit coming out of his mouth.”

"Is that a fact?" His slow drawl is clearly an indication that he is not amused at your statement.

"Yes, it is. Is that a problem, Arthur?" You are not about to back down from him, no matter how much he towers over you as he steps even closer to you now while you glare up at him bitterly.

He waves his hand at you in irritation. "No. No, you do whatever you damn well want.” You can tell he is getting riled up now, as his eyes are flashing, and you can see his jaw clenching, even under his beard.

“Good, because I plan to," you snap at him again. "Besides, what am I supposed to do?" You toss the jacket that you are still holding onto your cot behind you before crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "And where’s this coming from, anyway, Arthur? I thought you wanted no part of that?"

He just stares at you, not really sure what to say to that. The argument is right there on the tip of his tongue, ready to strike its ugly head. He wants nothing more than to grab you and hold you tight, never letting you go; needing you to just stop lashing out at him for a damn second. But he can’t. He just…can’t. So instead, he stands there like a mountain; silent and not moving.

Anger begins to build in your chest, causing the brows above your beautiful eyes to crease. You can feel your heart beating painfully faster as the adrenaline courses through your body. And you can sense that your mouth is about to pour forth words that will be an unstoppable waterfall.

"First there’s the glances, the lingering touches, taking me out places, talking to me all the time," you start rambling, your composure quickly crumbling now that you are speaking to him again. "Then all of a sudden acting like I'm nothing to you-“

"Hey! I never said you were nothing to me!” he interrupts with a shout as he takes another step closer to you.

"- only to be jealous, now?!" Your voice squeaks as it hits the louder decibel.

“I ain’t jealous and I never promised you anything! You’re the one who made it complicated!” He points his large finger in your face, mere inches from your nose.

"Right, my error. My miserable error for giving a damn about you!" Your arms shoot straight at your sides as your voice continues to rise in anger, your eyes dangerously brimmed with tears that threaten to spill forth and betray your hard front.

You lower your head to your hands, driving your fingertips into your temples, desperately trying to keep your brain from exploding. "What are you doing, Arthur?"

"What?" he snaps defensively.

"What are you doing to me?!," you holler at him, lifting your face back to his. "You want me here, but you don’t want me here. You don’t want me, but you don’t want me with anyone else, either. You can’t keep stringing me like that! What is it that you want, Arthur?!"

"I don’t know what the hell I want!” His voice roars into your face, standing nose to nose with you now, so close that you can feel his hot breath across your cheeks.

"Well that’s obvious," you say flatly.

And as you fearlessly hold his stony gaze, it occurs to you that you're going to have to let this fantasy of yours die. You've tried so hard to make him see what’s in himself, and to see you; to get him to see that your heart is here for his taking and, more importantly, that he deserves to be loved in return.

But he’s a broken outlaw. And you're going to have to come to terms with that and let him go. The reality of this idea painfully nets over your heart as your gaze flutters before it drops from his angry eyes to his heaving chest and finally falls to the ground to his dusty boots.

Defeated, your shoulders drop. You shake your head as you turn away from him, not able to look upon his face anymore. "Just…get the hell out of my tent, Arthur." Your tone is quiet and broken now after all of the yelling. He's done it. He's won the argument and finally gotten what he's been pushing you for. You're done with your childish fantasy of making this fearsome outlaw a partner to you.

Arthur stands there staring at your back for a moment, the corner of his eyes stinging slightly. Rage electrifies and radiates throughout his whole body as his hands flex in and out of a fist at his sides. Finally, he turns and storms away from your tent. "God damn it!" he mutters harshly to himself. Why is it that everything he touches turns to shit?

From where he's been watching this whole exchange, Hosea quickly stands up from his chair, alarmed, as he watches Arthur stalk angrily away from your tent.

“Arthur!” Hosea calls out, his face clearly laced with concern. For an "angry Arthur" is a "dangerous Arthur" for sure.

"Not now, Hosea!" Arthur snaps, waving the older man off without so much as a glance in his direction as he stomps off.

Arthur is so infuriated right now, he's not really sure what to do. He's irrationally upset with you. He keeps replaying that day at the overlook when you revealed your affection for him. Why in the hell did you have to do that? It ruined everything. The two of you could have remained friends, and if he longed for you, he could just do it secretly as he's been doing since he's met you. But no, you had to push the idea and now the two of you are either hollering at each other or not speaking altogether. Why did you have to come here and be so nice to him? Why did you have to make him fall for you?

But he soon realizes how foolish he is being, chastising himself. It's not your fault, but his. He never should have let it get this far. He should have kept his distance from you from the start. He should have known he’d be weak-willed and defenseless against someone as good and pure as you.

Arthur stalks back to his tent and as he does, he looks up and sees Charles sitting outside of his own tent. He's sitting upon a log as a makeshift chair, his attention acutely fixated on the materials in his hands. Looks like he is making more arrows. 'Probably so he can take (Y/N) out hunting again,' Arthur sourly thinks to himself.

Arthur walks over to Charles, knowing he probably shouldn't right now. All of his reasoning argues that he should just stop and try to calm down. But unfortunately, Arthur is not thinking rationally at the moment. Charles casually lifts his head as he sees Arthur approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Arthur." Charles greets him with an air of caution, as he can see the tension on his friend's face. He could hear you and Arthur arguing just a few minutes ago. From where his tent is situated in camp, it is farther from yours, so Charles couldn't hear exactly what was said, only the volume and tone with which it was.

"Charles," Arthur coolly greets in return. "What you workin' on there? Hmm? More arrows to go huntin' with?" He cocks his head to the side as he coldly stares down at the items in Charles' hands.

"Yeah. I promised (Y/N) the next time we go out that we'd work on her bow skills. Been working with her on tracking lately. But she really wants to get a grasp on working with a bow."

Arthur looks on with disdain as Charles’ large fingertips delicately wrap the end of the arrow shaft with feathers.

"Oh, I'm sure she wants to get a grasp on somethin', alright," Arthur retorts bitterly.

Arthur's tone makes Charles hesitate. He looks back to Arthur and measures his words carefully. "You got a problem with me taking (Y/N) out hunting, Arthur?"

"Maybe I do."

Charles is not a violent man by nature, but he will stand his ground if need be. He has no designs to "steal" you from Arthur, if that is what the other man thinks he's doing. He has no intention of fighting over you, either. But Charles will fight for you if he has to. He puts the shafts and string in his lap down on the ground next to his feet. Arthur doesn’t move a muscle of his large frame as Charles slowly stands to square off and meets him at eye level.

“If you got a problem with (Y/N), Arthur, that’s between you two. She and I are only hunting together. That's all." Charles's voice is low and even. He doesn't want to provoke his good friend, but he also resents his tone. "Apparently, she's looking to get out of camp a lot lately, looking for some peace and quiet. And, she's a good shot, damn good shot, in fact. So she is welcome to hunt with me whenever she wants." Charles pauses, standing a little straighter, pushing his chest out a bit. "Besides, she’s my friend, too.”

Arthur cocks a knowing eyebrow at Charles. “Yeah, and we all know how friendships can go.”

“Mind yourself, Arthur,” warns Charles, pointing his finger at his chest and giving his friend a look that is more of disappointment than anger, before he sits back down and calmly resumes his work. He understands Arthur's frustration, and understands that he is not the target of the outlaw's anger. He also knows Arthur is better than this pettiness, too. But more importantly, Charles won't stand for anyone speaking badly about you, regardless of who it is.

Arthur says nothing else, realizing that he is not getting anywhere with Charles. So to avoid ruining yet another relationship that he has come to rely on, Arthur smartly buttons his lips and walks off to sulk in the solitude of his tent.

------------------------------

This stunning image comes from @regwishesshehadmagic​

The morning following your fight, Arthur is awake before the sun. He watches with bleary eyes as the crisp morning sun begins to fracture into his tent between the opening in the canvas. Not being able to sleep all night, he drags himself to sit up on his cot with a groan, rubbing his hands through his disheveled hair.  Despite his overwhelming fatigue, he is so restless, he can’t stand it. Feeling as if he is on the edge of going crazy, Arthur quickly gets himself together and rides out of camp before anyone is aware. He doesn't know where he is going or what he is going to do, only that he has to get out of this godforsaken camp and clear his head.

He spends the next two days out in the woods, thinking about what to do and what he really wants. He is being torn apart by this rift between you and him, torn between what he wants and what he feels is right. Arthur sits among the trees, silent as a statue, while the forest life goes on about its merry way around him, and rolls his doubts and misgivings over and over again in his mind, along with what Micah had said. Torturing himself with angry and hurtful words, the man blames himself for allowing himself to be in this situation to begin with.

As the long day draws out into the night, Arthur still sits, legs stretched out before him as the small campfire illuminates the now-encroaching darkness. And of course, Arthur also thinks of you. He takes his journal out and reads over the entries. Refreshing his memory with thoughts of you, he relives the moments you've spent together. Each passage brings forth a plethora of emotions, each stronger than the last. Your image is scattered throughout the worn pages in various forms, from the details of your eyes and lips, to the graceful curve of your neck, visible when your hair is pulled up, to a full-body likeness of you standing with Jack on your hip. His rough fingers trace over the lines of your face as he sits in deep thought, a small smile involuntarily blooming across his features.

But most importantly, he thinks about what you said at the overlook. His eyes relax and stare unfocused into the dancing flames of his fire, and Arthur's chest tightens as he vividly remembers the look on your face when he declined your affections and sat there and did nothing as he watched your eyes rim with tears. Your voice still booms in his ears:  “What is it that you want, Arthur?!”

Arthur’s fingers move as if combing through mud as he pulls a cigarette out of his satchel and lights it. Pulling a long drag off of the end, he lets out an extended and tired sigh. What does he want?

He knows he’s lonely. He hates to admit it, but he is. Cold nights and empty beds; no warm arms waiting to welcome him home. But the fear of exposing himself to love again, only for it to end horribly, is terrifying, even to a fearsome, hard outlaw. Losing Eliza and Issac shattered his heart. And Mary’s rejection has left him bitter and angry. Over the years, Arthur has channeled his hurt and pain into an armor until he has become someone else altogether; a shell of what he once was, and he wasn’t all that great to begin with. He’s no good, like a rotten apple that’s fallen from the tree that no one wants to take. Arthur doesn’t think he has it in him to do it all over again. And now, he is in a position to be stuck between living his life and running from it.

But you are different. You are not as young and naive as Eliza was. Nor are you as self-serving as Mary. Though he cared for and loved both women, Arthur knew, even then, that he was doomed, for these women did not fit with his family and lifestyle. But with you, that burden is removed. Not only do you accept the gang, but you have embraced it. And you are someone who cares for him, not for what he does, but for who he is.

You are delightfully chaotic; quite the beautiful mess, in fact. Arthur finds you to be wonderfully out of place in his life, but maybe that is as it should be. Kind of like when you see the moon during the daytime. You’ve turned your broken into beautiful and made your strength look invincible. You have never asked Arthur for the moon and the stars, but only to lay in the damp grass at night with you to watch them. And to Arthur, this means more than anything. The way your nose wrinkles when you smile. The way your eyes light up when you see him. The way you snort sometimes when you laugh. The way you get impassioned when you speak of something that touches you. Even the way you walk away from the fire at night to head back to your tent. Arthur wants it all.

And it is then that Arthur is hit with a profound realization. His eyes open wide and the air is sucked out of his chest as if he's been thrown from his horse. Arthur loves you. He loves you. And, more importantly, he wants the two of you to be together. More than anything. But can he do that?

He knows it's not the safe path, and probably not what is best for you. But John is right: if this is what you both really want, why not do it? He finally comprehends that he’s spent so much time being strong for everyone else that he’s never allowed himself to be happy. Maybe that needs to change now.

With resolve in his veins, Arthur quickly packs up his makeshift camp, literally tripping over himself in his haste, and heads back home.

As Arthur comes down the path back to camp, his eyes immediately notice that your horse is gone. Disappointed, but not discouraged, Arthur thinks about his next move and decides to ask Abigail and Mary-Beth what to do. If he is going to fix this great divide between you and him, he is going to need help to do it, as so far, he clearly doesn't know what he's doing on his own. He needs to bring "the big guns," as they say. And fortunately, Arthur finds the very two people he needs sitting together at a table.

“Can I talk to you ladies a minute?" Arthur calls over as he walks with purpose in their direction with a very determined look upon his face. The two women halt their conversation upon hearing him, curious about what he could want.

Mary-Beth smiles up at him as Arthur gets close to their table. "Sure, Arthur. What do you need?" He sits down next to Mary-Beth, pausing to organize his thoughts before he just comes right out with it.

"(Y/N) told me how she feels about me. You know, that she likes me an’ all. And like a fool, I pushed her away.” His eyes dart back and forth from both of their faces before shamefully down at his own hands that fidget on the table. "I guess I underestimated how I’d feel about that."

Abigail sits up straighter as a huge smile begins to cross her lips. “Are you saying that you want to be with her then, Arthur?”

"The question was never if I wanted to," he says to Abigail. "But she won’t even speak to me now." He holds his hands up in defeat before letting them fall haplessly onto the table, and looks to the women with a pathetic face, pleading for help. "Every time I try, we end up yellin’, and I make it worse."

Abigail gives him a scolding look. "Well, Arthur, you wounded her pride and broke her heart. What do you expect?" 

“Maybe you need a grand gesture?” suggests Mary-Beth, gesturing with her arms in emphasis. Her eyes go wide with excitement, eager to help usher this new relationship into existence. "(Y/N) can be stubborn, for sure. So if she won't talk to you, Arthur, then make her listen. Maybe you need to show her how you feel?"

“If you’re going to do something, you may need to do it soon, Arthur," warns Abigail, tapping her finger on the table. She goes on to tell him that you feel as if you don’t belong and have been distancing yourself from the whole camp.

 "She's up and out before anyone else, and when she is in camp, she rarely leaves her tent now." This worries Arthur because what if you decide to leave? Then what? He’s scared to lose you even though you're not his to lose.

Arthur sits quietly, taking in all of this information. He tries to think of what he could possibly do while Abigail and Mary-Beth both stare at him, waiting for the answer. "Thank you, girls. I appreciate your help," he finally says. "Do me a favor though, and don't mention this to (Y/N), please? I don't know what I'm doin' just yet, and I don't want to disappoint her even more than I already have."

"Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say," Mary-Beth answers with a hopeful grin. “Good Luck!”

He then looks to Abigail, who just stares back obstinately.

"Abigail?"

"Ugh, OK fine! I won't say anything. But you had better do something, Arthur Morgan!" as she points her finger at him. "Or so help me-"

"OK, OK!" he holds up his hands in surrender as he stands up. "I don't need two women in camp after me. I'll take care of it." And he smiles to himself as he heads to his tent to plan.

After mulling over his options, Arthur decides to ride back to Rosewood where you came from to see if he can find anything of your father's there. If you are missing your family, as Abigail told him, Arthur is hoping to bring back some sort of remembrance of him for you. After a quick check-in with Dutch, Arthur immediately heads out of camp and on his way to Rosewood. It's a few days' ride, so he needs to get going so he can hurry and get back.

Meanwhile, back at camp, you notice Arthur has been gone intermittently since your revelation, and now he’s been gone for several days after your fight. Things seem to be going from bad to worse. Figuring he’s outright avoiding the camp itself because of you, you don’t know what to do. This is his family, his people. And if you're the one making things difficult, then you will need to be the one to leave. So, you start coming to terms with the idea that you will need to find a new place of your own.

This evening, as the sun starts to crawl back behind the mountains, you find yourself sitting outside of camp by yourself. You stare out into the watercolor-painted sky, thinking over where you'll go and what you'll do. The idea of leaving is terrifying. You'll have to start over yet again. You'll miss everyone in this camp who you have come to love so dearly. You’ll surely miss Abigail and Jack. And of course Hosea. You'll miss Arthur. 

You draw your knees up closer to your chin and wrap your arms around them as an overwhelming fatigue cascades over you. You are so lost in your own thoughts that you do not hear footsteps behind you.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” You hear Charles' soft voice cut through your thoughts. When he didn't see you at dinner yet again tonight, he decided to come to check on you.

You hastily wipe away a few tears from your cheeks and try to smile for him. “Hi, Charles. What can I do for you?”

He cautiously approaches you as one does a wounded animal. His brows knit in concern when, even in the setting sunlight, he can see the red-rim of your wet eyes. "Arthur ain’t gonna be too happy if he finds out we’ve let you wander off by your lonesome.”

You scoff at that. "Oh, I highly doubt that," giving Charles a sad smile. "Although Arthur is the expert on what I shouldn’t be doing, it seems." You turn your attention back to the horizon, watching the last flecks of golden sunlight begin to fade for the day. "Besides, he won't have to worry about it much longer."

Charles freezes before nervously shifting his weight from hip to hip. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh…nothing. Forget I said anything." You wave off the comment as if it is nothing more than a rambling thought, but you still avoid his dark eyes.  

"(Y/N)…you OK?"

"Yeah…sure. I’ll be fine"

Charles steps closer to you, studying your face and countenance, not believing you for a second. "Listen (Y/N), I know you and Arthur are in a weird place right now-“

"Oh, Charles, I really don’t want to talk about Arthur. Really, I don’t,” you insist, shaking your head vehemently. Your eyes have a glassy sheen that causes Charles to cringe in pity for you.

“OK,” He’s silent for a moment. "Can I do anything for you?" His hand tentatively reaches out to you, not really sure what, if anything, he can do.

"No, sweet man, I’m OK. Thank you." You try to give him another smile for reassurance. "Go ahead back to everyone. I won't be out here much longer. I promise."

Charles hesitates a bit longer, before turning to head back to camp. "All right, if you're sure you're OK, then."

When you see him disappear amongst the tents again, you turn back to the horizon. The sun is gone now. The light has been snuffed out, leaving a cold and lonely atmosphere in its wake. The first few pin-pricks of starlight begin to emerge in the purple sky. You sigh deeply as your shoulders drop even more and your eyelids fall like stones. 

"I'm not sure of anything anymore," you whisper to yourself.  

A/N: *Oh my goodness, half-way there! More drama to come, but I promise, we’re getting there, and it’s definitely worth it (I hope anyway)

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #rdr2 #Read Dead Redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader angst

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift III: She Sleeps

SERIES MASTERPOST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 1017 words warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, tbh this made me cry a/n: just a cute lil drabble for my favourite family in the world

taglist:@cowboydisaster@inkandbloodbound@beea-nie@cloudynoiire@punctillous@missvanderlinde@twola@pine4pple-b0i@alice-vanderlinde@photo1030

The newly appointed Uncle Dutch stays for a little while, admiring his new goddaughter until he and Arthur notice you struggling to stay awake. You’ve drifted off completely by the time Dutch hands Jade back to her father and congratulates the pair of you once more, returning to his tent to gush over the new addition to the gang.

Sleep overtakes you completely and utterly, your body so exhausted from the last nine months you could probably sleep through a riot. That much is proven about an hour later, when Jade stirs in her cot and begins to cry, the very first time in a long, long period of sleepless nights for the three of you. Her little screams pierce the formerly tranquil air, the trauma of waking up in the real world seemingly alone not really agreeing with her.

You’re normally not such a heavy sleeper, where the snap of a nearby twig or Uncle’s less than melodic singing, no matter how far away, is enough to wake you. But exhaustion doesn’t begin to cover how your body aches right now, how it longs for rest and clings onto it with a mighty grip when you finally get it. You don’t even stir.

Arthur, on the other hand, is woken instantly, paternal instincts already setting in ferociously. He looks down to you, smiling to himself when he sees you’re sound asleep, just about managing to untangle his limbs from yours without waking you and pressing a kiss to the top of your hair. When he gets off your shared cot, he makes sure to wrap the blanket back around you. 

“Hey, little lady…” he whispers, almost apprehensively as he walks towards his daughter, hands raised in the air as if he’s approaching a spooked horse. Force of habit. “It’s all right, baby girl… Daddy’s here.”

To Arthur, Jade is made of glass, and he lifts her into his arms as such. His precious, fragile little masterpiece, who makes him feel bigger and more brutish than he ever has before. He sits in the chair at the foot of your cot, Jade settling in his strong arms like she was made for them. She was, Arthur thinks, he just never realised until this moment. That’s all it takes for Jade to stop crying: her daddy, who would lasso the moon for her if it meant she could see the stars a little brighter. 

Even in the dark of your tent, Arthur can see her eyes glistening up at him, and can still make out her tiny features. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, save for you, of course. 

He thinks of Isaac for a moment, and how he held him like this precious few times, vowing that his memory will live on in the way that he will protect Jade from the evils of the world no matter what stands in his way. He will do for Jade what he failed to do for his son, in his honour. 

Breaking the silence settling around your little family, you moan softly in your sleep, turning onto your side. It draws Arthur’s attention to you again- not that it would ever be too far away- and he smiles to himself, entranced by how peaceful you look, how beautiful you are.

Jade reaches up to Arthur’s chin, pressing tiny fingers against his stubble and capturing his attention once more. The quietest of chuckles escapes his chest, a smile so pure stretching his lips. 

“Ain’t she beautiful, baby girl? I’m so damn proud of her…” Arthur physically winces when he realises he just cursed to a 4 hour old baby, but will later realise he should be the last of his own troubles, what with her having a dozen outlaws for aunts and uncles. “Sorry…” he hums, glancing between his wife and daughter to direct the apology to both of you.

“But I am. Proud of her, that is… We’re the luckiest two people in the whole world, little lady, cause we got her…” 

Apparently finding her father’s chin to be a little scratchy (with Arthur making a mental note to shave first thing in the morning), Jade reaches out into the open air, and Arthur can’t help but reach right back. He adjusts his hold on her, freeing one hand to let her grip her tiny digits around his singular finger. He feels like a giant, but he’ll be damned if his heart isn’t pounding right out of his chest at how happy he is right now. 

“You’ve got the best momma in the whole world, you know that? And I… Well, I’m gonna do everything I can to be a good papa, baby… Everything I can.” 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified. Arthur has owned a fair few front row tickets to displays of how not to be a father, from his own Pa to how easy it has been for Marston to mess up again and again over the years. And hell, he’s never seen anyone raise a little girl before. But as he promises, with his entire heart and soul, he is going to do his absolute best to be everything he can be to Jade. 

“Hey, and I hope you know how loved you are, little one. Your momma and I… God, I can’t even tell ya’, baby… You were a surprise, I’ll tell ya’, but we love you so much…” She’s squeezing around his finger as hard as she can, leaving the tiniest crescent moons from the smallest fingernails Arthur has ever seen. 

“You both did so well today… you were both so brave, huh? My brave girls…” He whispers, his words riding a content sigh. Jade’s eyes begin to flutter shut, her eyelids too heavy for her little self to fight. “You get some sleep, darlin’... I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

The moon is falling fast, and it’ll soon be sunrise, but Arthur just can’t bring himself to sleep and miss one second of this night, watching his girls and silently promising them the world. 

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #the greatest gift #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr fanfic #rdr imagine