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mlmxreader · 4 months

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Don't You Shiver | Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ you already know what’s up. arthur morgan x gn!reader

"Do you want your hoodie back?" "Keep it. It's yours."

but instead of hoodie it’s one of arthur’s jackets? pls and thank u mwah mwah ^_^ - @mockerycrow ❞

: ̗̀➛ Arthur cares a lot about you, so it's no surprise that he does what he can to help when you come back to camp less than happy.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Your hands smelled of cheap cigarettes and whisky as you wandered back into camp behind Charles, a little bit embarrassed that you had wasted his time on fool's gold.

You thought it had been a perfectly good lead at the time, and with Charles’ skills complimenting your own, you figured that the two of you would have had it done and dusted by noon the same day. But now it was dusk, you were shivering, and you felt like an idiot.

You kept your head down and your gaze on the ground, not even trying to talk to Charles even though he reassured you time and time again that he didn't mind - he enjoyed the nice day out with you.

It wasn't often that the two of you had much time to spend together despite your strong friendship, and even though you had been an idiot… you did admit, you appreciated his company at the very least.

Before he left you for the evening, Charles pulled you aside, and once again told you that he didn't mind; it happened, sometimes leads didn't work out and even he had had his fair share of bad luck here and there. He wasn't going to hold it against you.

However, you felt terrible when you snuck into Arthur's tent, going through your clothes as he sat on his cot and watched you for a moment, his head tilted slightly to the side.

It wasn't until he saw you shiver that he put two and two together and frowned; he got up and grabbed his semi-decent brown hunting jacket, and gently pressed it into your hands as he smiled.

“It's warm,” he told you quietly. “It'll help.”

You tugged it on, pressing your face against the collar of the coat for a moment and humming under your breath; you were always stealing Arthur's clothes, if you were honest, but he never minded.

He liked to see you wearing them, mostly because he knew that most of his coats were a lot warmer and a lot better for cold climates than your own. But he also… admittedly, he liked to think that everyone would realise that it was his jackets, and they would know that you and Arthur belonged to one another as well and that they couldn't do anything.

He ushered you out of the tent and over to the scout fire, letting you sit with your back against his chest and his chin on your shoulder, his arms around you tightly. He hoped that it would aid in warming you up, maybe even speed the process a little bit.

You didn’t even flinch, leaning into him and doing your best to steal some of his warmth as you sighed and swallowed thickly; you brought the thick brown leather to your face, pressing it against your mouth and nose and inhaling the scent for a moment as you closed your eyes.

You were a little warmer now, but you still couldn’t shake the icy feeling deep within your bones and in your shaking hands as you grumbled softly and shook your head.

Arthur turned to look at you, frowning as he gently tugged you a little closer. “I’ll get you some coffee and-”

“Wait,” you murmured softly, almost under your breath as you tugged at the sleeve of his blue denim-coloured shirt. “I don’t wanna be alone in the cold.”

He sighed, nodding as he settled back down; he did his best to think of a few ways to get you to warm up, but unfortunately for him, all of them would mean leaving you, and you didn’t seem so keen on the idea.

So he pulled out two cigarettes, lighting them before handing one to you and doing his best not to smile at how you tried to get closer to him, almost straddling his waist as you squirmed. He grumbled, his grip on you tightening as he kept your back steady against his chest and shook his head.

You stopped shivering eventually, pulling away from him so that you could shrug the jacket off, holding it in your hands as the flames seemed to follow you wherever you went.

“Do you want your jacket back?”

“Keep it. It’s yours, now,” Arthur told you with a short shake of his head. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You rolled your eyes as you smiled, a glint of something mischievous in your eyes. “You say that about everything of yours that I borrow.”

He shrugged, leaning back slightly to get a good look at you; with the flames so close, Arthur could have sworn that you looked just like something out of an old folktale.

A great, fair king; beloved by his people and as just as he was humble. He wanted to grin and to laugh at the thought, but he could only hum as he pulled out his journal and held it up for you to look at for a moment.

“Mind if I…”

You shook your head. “Not at all, where’d you want me?”

Arthur balanced his journal on his knee as he looked up at you, the tip of his tongue pointing out of the corner of his mouth. “Just stay there.”

You did as you were told, running your thumb across the lapel of Arthur’s jacket as you stood patiently. You could hear the scratch of his pencil against the paper, and how he hummed under his breath as he stole a look at you every now and then.

It was never uncommon for Arthur to draw you, you caught him doing it often enough that you knew he had pages of it; yet every time he actually asked, every time he told you to stay still so that he could do it, you couldn’t help but to feel rather giddy.

To know that you would forever be immortalised by his fair hand, to know that he loved you to the point of creation. You bit at the inside of your lip, doing your best not to grin in case it spoiled his latest masterpiece.

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spongeyspot · 5 months

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can I please have some Arthur Morgan headcanons? here’s some ideas for it

His experience at a target

getting a little treat after a hard day of work

being a passenger princess

basically following his new “caretaker” around while he figures out the modern world.

1890s!Arthur being thrown into the modern world HC

A/N: I'm gonna go with the last two bc I find it so funny. ALSO: I should clarify, that this isn't a relationship hc. The reader (You/yours pronouns) is g/n, and Arthur becomes their roommate

(And they were roommates...)

Arthur Morgan was in the blast zone of Francis Sinclair's time machine and accidentally hitched a ride to the year 2023.

- Gets hit by (your) a car when he wandered into the street

- It took him quite a bit to come to terms that this place was not the one he once knew

- Wants to get home so badly, but it seems he's stuck. He can't find Vincent Sinclair anywhere.

- He seeks out your help and at first, when he explains his predicament, you think he's a crazy homeless guy

- He tries to go off on his own to figure things out but comes back immediately because things have changed so much from the place he once knew.

- He also almost got hit by another car

- You decide you want to show Arthur the finer things in life, first starting with getting vaccinated... God knows how many diseases Arthur would be exposed to, let alone the ones he already has.

- Also a toothbrush because his breath is probably rancid

- He sleeps on your couch for a while

- eventually moves into your spare bedroom and starts having to pay some of the rent

- He'd have to work under the table because his birth certificate says he was born in 1864...

- Probably gets a job with Construction or Bartending

- Also, clean slate? No Bounty! Hell yeah!

- tends to follow you everywhere because he likes how you explain modern life to him

- You got him a cell phone.

- He's never trying to be funny when he asks questions

- "What the hell is a "tik-tok"?"

- "Blue-tooth? Never heard of that, only gold ones... I used to sell em'."

- "And you can just.. talk to this? And it'll bring ya food?? Whenever ya want???"

- holds the phone pinched between two fingers on either side like he's holding a pair of dirty underwear and starts to yell at it that he wants some steak

- Absolutely blown away by pizza

- Astonished when he sees no horses, just giant metal boxes with wheels that seem to move on their own.

- When you explain how it worked and what it was, he called it a "magic stagecoach" for a while

- Passenger princess

- fascinated by modern music. It just comes out of your magic stagecoach with the press of a button?

- Huge Bon Jovi fan. his favorite song is "Wanted Dead or Alive".

- asks "What does this button do?" seconds before he presses it

- holds the "oh shit" handle in your car at all times.

-The first time he was in your car he probably actually screamed

- you got him an electric beard trimmer for Christmas and he acted like you handed him a gold ingot

- quite honestly starts to warm up to the domestic life. having to rob and steal to keep himself alive weighed on him way more than he liked to admit.

- adores movie nights. Movies in the 1900s-2023 are incredibly different than the motion pictures he was used to.

- after he gets used to this new world, he WANTS A MOTORCYCLE SO BAD but opts for a pickup truck instead because it's more convenient

- Insists on cooking dinner on the weekends

- didn't understand your gas stove the first time and he almost blew up your apartment

#Arthur morgan x reader #Arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan x gender neutral reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan #arthur morgan headcannons #arthur morgan hc #arthur morgan x reader hc #arthur morgan x reader hcs #hc #rdr2 hc #rdr2 headcanons #headcanons

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yourlocallygrowngay · 28 days

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Kiss of Purple, Blue and Green

Summary: After a drunken night together, Arthur sees a love bite on your neck and mistakens it for a bruise.

Warnings: bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff, suggestive themes

Word count: 2,361

Ask and you shall receive. Here's a one shot of the scenario I posted a few days ago ;)

Check this out on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54854827

Last night was still a bit of a blur, pieces of it manifesting disorderly, like trying to fit puzzle pieces into the wrong spots. All you knew for certain was two things: the pounding headache that was making you wince at each sound, and… that you and Arthur Morgan had been up to no good.

You shivered in the cold morning air, pulling the blanket over your trembling shoulders as you sat down in front of the last embers of the campfire, a steaming cup of coffee in your hands to warm you up. You could tell the sweet nectar was doing its job, as you were feeling more awake already. You thanked the Lord for coffee.

But you cursed him out the very next second, because you felt someone sitting next to you and you froze, your entire body stiffening. It wasn’t nice company.

“Hello there, cowpoke!” The mustached man roared, sending a wave of pain directly to your already aching temples.

“Micah… not now” you begged, features scrunched up in pain. Turning away from him, you downed the rest of the coffee in silence.

But you knew Micah. He wasn’t resisting the opportunity to have his fun with you in one of your rare vulnerable moments. He spun you around rudely, and grinned under his blonde stache when you recoiled and slapped his filthy hands away.

“Geez, does the liquor at least make you gentler? I’d have to ask Mr. Morgan about that!” he sneered loudly, prompting you to look around, alarmed.

“What do you want?” you hissed, moving in closer to shush him. Micah’s expression relaxed.

“Me? Oh, nothing, nothing at all!” he got up and paced in front of you, grabbing his belt. “If you want the whole camp knowing what you got up to, that is.”

His stupid, cocky smile made you want to punch it off his face, but you tried to keep your composure. Micah was Dutch’s second in command now, you didn’t think it smart to attack him like that. Inside, anger was boiling in your chest, filling your gaze with venom. The mere thought of him knowing what you did (something that was nebulous even to you, and so very private) made your skin crawl. Was he in Valentine too yesterday? Did he spy on y’all?

The man approached you, lowering his voice condescendingly. This would stay between the two of you, if… you did something for him. You were sitting there, trying to interpret his ominous request, you heart beating steadily faster as you felt cornered by this damned fool.

“What is it?” you sighed, wondering if being blackmailed by Micah was worth it, if it meant your foolish actions remained concealed.

This time, he got so close you could feel his foul breath on your nose. You grimaced and tried to suppress a gag. Man, he was disgusting, both inside and out. He cupped your chin, squeezing it firmly. He had just parted his lips to speak when you heard loud, thundering footsteps get closer and closer to your position. Next thing you knew, Micah was tumbling backwards, narrowly avoiding the campfire.

“DON’TCHA DARE TOUCH ‘EM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

You tilted your head upwards in shock. There he was, the man you spent the night with; Arthur Morgan, a man you knew for years and who you never saw lose his temper was there, fists clenched and a murderous rage obscuring his usually sweet blue eyes. A man you had witnessed murder, steal and intimidate, yet his violence always felt calculated, measured in a way, but not this time.

And it was gone in seconds. He turned to you, his fury fizzled away into a worried expression as he asked you if you were okay. You nodded, dazed, still processing what had happened.

You both glanced at Micah, who was still trying to regain his balance after the fall, wiping away the mud and grass from his pants. His expression was his usual, douchy one, but you saw the genuine panic and the fear in his eyes when he was on the ground: he was scared of Arthur. It was clear as day, from the way he kept a safe distance from the both of you, his wounded ego showing. Arthur put on his intimidating gaze and scowled at him until he disappeared into his tent.

“So, what did the bastar-“ he interrupted himself, noticing something on your neck. There it was again, the rage. You saw his face become completely red with anger as he gently hovered his fingers on your bruise, the contrast between the two baffling. You tried to think of some words to defuse him, but before you had a chance to say anything, he shot up and started yelling at the whole camp.

“Okay, which one of ya bastards did this?! Jus’ lemme find out…” Arthur snarled, quite literally growling the threat like a rabid animal. He frantically looked around for the culprit, only finding tired eyes and people still in their night clothes blinking at him, incredulous and concerned at his unusual display of anger.

“Arthur…” you tried to get his attention, but his mind was miles away from you. He wanted justice for whoever dared to put their filthy hands on your precious skin. He was pacing menacingly, glaring at the other men in the gang.

“Come out, ya goddamn coward!!” he shouted, spelling the word “goddamn” even more harshly and slowly than usual. Boy, was he angry… he was starting to scare you, too. You sat there, frozen, pondering what to do.

Javier, Sean and Bill exchanged confused looks, standing each in front of their tents. Sean was the only one who darted a look at you, and you widened your eyes at him, shaking your head in disbelief. But Arthur interpreted that differently and marched towards the Irishman threateningly.

“I’m watching you, boah” he threatened, but Sean was difficult to intimidate, and kept that dumb smirk on his face. The older man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, but Sean assured him he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Leave the boy alone, Arthur” Javier intervened in his usual pacifying tone. “Besides, wasn’t you out with them last night?”

Arthur kept his grip on Sean, but his expression softened a bit, his scrunched eyebrows trying to remember the events of last night. Little by little, it came back to him: you had been out on a mission, robbing a stagecoach, and then… he vaguely recalled stopping at the saloon in Valentine.

He let go of the kid and you sighed in relief. You approached him, grabbed his arm and walked him to the edge of camp, where you two could have a private conversation.

You thought you were hiding it well, but Arthur still noticed the fright in your eyes. He realized he had gone too far.

“I’m so sorry I scared ya, darlin’…” he apologized, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard it, his eyes firmly on his feet. “That was way outta line… it’s jus’…” he gestured aimlessly, struggling to find the words.

You took one of his hands in yours, gently kissing his bruised knuckles. You got was he was trying to say. When it came to you, all rationality went out of the window. He was sweet on you for a while now, and he was incredibly protective… this was just the first time you’d seen his feelings in action.

“I know. If someone hurt you, I’d probably do the same” you said gently, and his face relaxed into a smile.

You pointed at your neck, smiling in amusement. “This, however? All you.” you laughed, and then cracked up some more at Arthur’s sheer panic.

“Did… did I hurtcha?!” he gasped. He couldn’t stand the idea, not even for a second. It would destroy him if it was true. He’d never forgive himself.

“No, you fool!” you elbowed him in his ribs and explained that that was no bruise. It was a love bite.

“A… what?” he repeated, blinking rapidly. He never heard of such thing. You tried to explain that when he kissed your neck, he did it so… fervently, that he left a small mark just under your jawbone.

“Oh.” His cheeks lit up in a bright, tomato red and his pupils dilated in realization. You two kissed last night? He was starting to remember now…

The stagecoach robbing went exactly as planned. Of course it did: you and Arthur were a great team, excellent criminal minds that foresee every possible outcome and handle everything expertly. You made off with quite a lot of money and jewelry, so you both decided to celebrate the successful heist with a few drinks in Valentine.

“Just a couple, we still have to go back to camp to deposit the loot” you reminded your partner, putting a coin on the counter and gesturing towards the bartender.

“Of course, no crazy business tonight” the cowboy promised, downing his first shot.

Of course, you were both full of shit. The drinks kept coming, and coming, and coming, until the next thing you remember was you waking up in Arthur’s tent, his arms wrapped around you.

And there was a room… it had a bed, so maybe it was at the saloon?

“Did… did we share a room at the saloon?!” you asked Arthur, alarmed. He was staring straight ahead, hand on his chin, as the scene revealed itself to him.

He saw your exposed neck, head tilted backwards into the pillow as he peppered kisses all over your collarbone and chest, stopping at the edge of your jawline to suck on the tender skin that bruised so quickly, so easily. He heard your moans and his name repeated over and over in delight, as you went deeper and deeper, the friction of skin against skin delicious and exasperating at the same time.

He felt breathless now, his face burning unbearably in what? Arousal? Shame? Maybe both. He didn’t dare to look you in the eye, but seeing him that flustered was enough to prove to you what had happened. You did drunkenly sleep together in that room in Smithfield’s saloon. Some recollections came back to you, making your stomach flutter and your abdomen warm with desire. You saw Arthur in his entirety, remembering his touch on your bare skin, his tongue on your neck and chest, the hair a tangled mess that covered his face. His figure revealed itself in all its vulnerability, the mask of tough outlaw crumbling to reveal a tender, passionate lover that, even in his inebriated state, made sure to put your pleasure first. You silently watched him now, trying to piece together the two sides of him: the side that you always knew, and the new one that opened up to you last night.

Arthur looked back at you, interpreting your surprise as hesitation.

“You regret that, don’tcha?” he asked, an almost imperceptible note of sadness in his tone. “I do too, in a way.”

You were not sure whether to take that as an insult. “What do you mean?”

Arthur walked towards you, taking your hands in his. He lowered his voice into a whisper that covered you in goosebumps. His expression was hard to interpret.

“I regret not making our first time special.” He rubbed his thumb on your hand lovingly, smiling at you. There they were, the eyes you always knew, those breathtaking blues you would lose yourself in every day.

You tucked a hair strand behind his ear and lingered there, caressing his scruffy cheek. Arthur leaned right into your hand, melting under your touch.

“Oh, Arthur” you smiled at him, radiant. “It was special, because it was you.” You grabbed his collar and gently pulled him closer, then put your lips on his for a brief, chaste kiss.

“Nah, I could’ve done it right for ya” he shook his head, as always rejecting the compliment. One of these days you had to make him accept one, you promised yourself.

“Now I’m curious. What would you have done differently?”

Arthur took a moment to think. “Well… for starters, I wouldn’t have been that drunk!”

You chuckled. “Then, I’d book a nice bath for the two of us, with some good wine…” as he talked, he fidgeted with the collar of your shirt, resting his hands on your chest. “Then we’d have some dinner, maybe a walk… and then we’d go back to our room, to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed.”

“That does sound nice…” you remarked, almost disappointed that it wasn’t how it actually went. “Although that’s where it did end. In that nice bed.” You joked, making the man grin. “I guess you’re right” he laughed, pulling you closer.

“Besides,” you continued, lowering your tone, “there’s always the next time, y’know…” you purred, putting a lot on emphasis on the word “next” and giving him a playful smile. Arthur’s eyes lit right up, and he licked his lips.

“S’that so? And when is that?” he asked, his voice so deep it boomed inside his chest, so filled with desire that the warmth in you lower belly returned unannounced. Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, taking his time with it. His stubble tickled your skin, so thick and rough compared to his soft lips. You put your hands around his neck, one cupping his nape as he pushed you against the tree, lost in his affection for you.

“Get a room, you two!” you both jolted at the voice, realizing you weren’t as well hidden from the group as you’d thought. You smiled, embarrassed, watching Hosea wink at you as he walked away.

“Well, there goes our little secret, Arthur” you exhaled, laughing nervously.

“A secret? Who do ya think is responsible for pairin’ us up on every damn mission?” the cowboy laughed, pointing his thumb at Hosea’s back.

“C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast, darlin’.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, Arthur took your hand as you both went back to the group, relieved to not have to hide your love anymore.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #let me know what you think!#hope the link works #i will make another post for the ao3 link just in case #enjoy!!

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immajustvibehere · 11 months

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Unspoken Fascination

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader

Summary: You observe Arthur as he sleeps. You can't help but note all his little imperfections. But despite them, you love him deeply.

tags: slight (very slight) angst? Maybe. Fluffy. Self-indulgent.

1100 words, less than 10 minutes reading time

"He isn't the most beautiful", you tried to convince yourself. But even thinking that made your stomach turn a bit. Though it is true! You just needed to look at him.

"In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,

for they in thee a thousand errors note;

But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,

Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote;..."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, you felt yourself lost in the sight of Arthur. His broad frame leans against a tree, his hat resting in his lap, held in place by one of his big hands. Exhaustion had finally claimed him. You had been talking about your day and despite his weariness, he had been listening for a long time, nodding and mumbling affirmations. Now, you had the chance to observe him.

Aside from his soft snores, there was the rustling of the leaves in a gentle breeze. You were a few yards away from camp. Just near enough to hear people talking, but far enough to not being able to make out about what they were going on about.

Arthur's hair were unkempt and dry. You wondered when the last time was he had used a comb. A closer look revealed that it was also unevenly cut. Perhaps Arthur had tried to cut some himself, or the last barber hadn't done such a good job. Strands of his hair pricked his inner ear and you wondered if they didn't tickle him. His beard, too, was trimmed unevenly. It was shorter on his right face half. A small patch under his chin seemed to have been overlooked during his recent trimming session, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance.

You wondered when Arthur had stopped caring too much about his appearance. He always wore the same shirt, the blue one. A button was missing and the area around Arthur's hips, where he habitually crammed the shirt inside his patched working pants, was visibly soiled. Years worth of sweat, dirt and blood had worked its way into the fabric of the shirt. You know that he sometimes gave it up to have it washed, but he'd never part from it entirely, despite its worn-out state.

There was dried blood on his boots, and dirt under his fingernails. You looked at his hands. There was something intriguing about them. They had snapped so many necks and pulled the trigger to kill more times than you could even fathom. His skin looked so dry, his fingers calloused. They weren't made for soft touch but for hard work.

As your gaze travelled upward, you couldn't help but notice the various marks and signs of a life lived on Arthur's face and neck. His shirt, unbuttoned and revealing his weathered skin, showcased a distinct tan line around his neck. It spoke of countless hours spent beneath the scorching sun. On the nose, deformed from being broken multiple times, was a mild sunburn. Arthur's lips were chapped. They always were like that, you'd know, because you look at them quite often. And then there was this ugly, fading bruise on his cheek from a bar fight a couple of days ago.

A man, so much older than you, and marked by a harsh and brutal life. A man that had stopped caring about a clean shave or a fresh shirt and a nice haircut some time after he and Mary walked different paths. And - you tilted your head and squinted at him - in a way not the most handsome. His appearance bore the weight of exhaustion and melancholy. His fingertips black with either blood, dirt or pencil stains from sketching in his journal.

"Fuuuck", you mumbled, letting your head dangle.

It didn't matter.

You could pick on Arthur's imperfections as long as you liked, you knew it wouldn't help. As you wrestled with your own internal struggles, torn between your fear of rejection and the undeniable feelings you held for Arthur, you couldn't deny the depth of your emotions. You were desperate to get over this silly crush. No matter how much you may criticize or dissect Arthur's scars, hoarse voice, or any other aspect, it didn't change the fact that you loved him.

His messy hair looked perfect after a ride or even when his sweat made it stick to the back of his neck. The strands that pricked his ears looked cute and you wanted nothing more than to put them behind his ear with your finger. His hands, as rough and calloused they were, could draw the most beautiful pictures. They were capable of those small, delicate crafts. Arthur picked flowers and cleaned his guns like his hands had the agility of a child. And God knows you loved every scar and bruise, you would kiss them until he begged you to stop. Your fingers would run through his beard and you didn't mind the dirty shirt, because you knew it was his favourite.

Your heart shattered when you saw him sad and exhausted, but in his sleep his features were relaxed. This man had every reason to be sad and contemplative, he sure had. Sometimes, you overheard the small comments he made when he looked into a mirror. Please, you would do anything to be the person to tell him that everything will be alright and that he's neither old nor ugly, that you want to hug him and appreciate even the smallest wrinkle on his face.

It was his rough exterior that you loved. Because when you looked closer, it wasn't that rough at all. Every scar told a story, and you wanted to hear them all.

"Yer aspleep?"

Your head shot up and you were met by those beautiful blue eyes that glowed in the evening sun.

"No - I was just thinking."

"That so?", Arthur gave a half-smile and you melted. To see that smile more often you would walk straight through hell without a complaint. He stood up and stretched his tired limbs, looking down on you.

"Yer hungry?"

"Depends. I don't think I can do Pearson's stew again. He talked about a new ingredient and...well, I bet my boots taste better.

Arthur laughed, reaching out with his hand to help you up. You had been right, it was rough and calloused, but warm. And it engulfed your hand entirely, you felt so protected you were disappointed when he let it go again.

"Wanna head to the saloon then? My treat", Arthur offered.

"Only if I can pay a couple of beer later", you grinned.

"'Course. Wouldn't want it any other way", Arthur agreed.

There was no way you would simply get over this crush. Maybe some alcohol will lose your tongue and give you some courage to tell the man how much you really loved him.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction #arthur morgan x gn reader

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queer-irritator · 8 months

Text

Impure Thoughts (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader)

Prompt: It’s a boiling hot day and the reader wears next to nothing.

Content warnings: Adult language, smut

Takes place in Clemen’s Point. Fem reader physique, neutral pronouns. Continuation of Bloody Knuckles, but not necessary to read it first.

Despite how cold the nights can get on the lake, the days can be brutally hot. Unfortunately today was boiling hot, and sticky from humidity. Days like this make you want to do nothing all day. Not to mention, the clothing options in stores all had far too much fabric. That’s why you’ve taken to making some undergarments of your own. You took an older pair of drawers and cut off about ¾ of the pant leg. You were currently finishing up hemming the bloomers, keeping the signature ruffles on the edge. You also added another layer of lining to make your new shorts more opaque. You cut off any loose threads, closed your tent flaps and tried them on. You sure weren’t used to seeing so much of your thighs exposed… but, then everyone else around camp walked around in their underwear. This was just shorter. You took a deep breath and assured yourself it would be fine. The camp was like family, no one would care what you wore. You exited your tent and tied up the flaps.

“Oooh, you got some short shorts there, (y/n)!” Tilly was the first to see your new garment.

You turned around to face her, “I know… but it's just so damn hot. Does it look bad?” You asked her.

“No, not at all! I just think you might have some of the boy’s eyes on ya.” Tilly let out a giggle.

You blushed lightly. There was only one person here you’d want to look at you in that manner. You shifted your stance awkwardly, “You think so? I think of most of them like family.”

“Yeah,” Tilly agreed with you, “But men will be men… especially the ones that haven’t seen that much skin in years.”

You chuckled a little, “I’ll just give ‘em a good slap across the face.”

Tilly laughed with you, “There you go!” She headed off to work on some laundry.

You glanced around to see who was in camp at the moment. You started to feel a little self-conscious. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of the countless times you’ve seen the men walk around without a shirt when it gets this hot out. You tugged on your sleeveless chemise slightly. You were just going to go about your normal routine, which started with filling wash basins. You bent down to pick up an empty bucket and felt the back of your shorts ride up slightly, exposing the bottom of your ass cheeks slightly. Standing up straight again helped the cloth cover yourself again. This is something you’ll have to get used to.

You made your way across camp, carrying the empty pail. You definitely felt more eyes on you than normal. As you passed Dutch’s tent you saw him do a double take at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Excuse me, (y/n), but are you TRYING to give the men in this camp a heart attack?” Dutch’s voice boomed throughout the camp.

You stopped and turned toward him, “If the men can’t control their own thoughts then that’s their fault. It’s hotter than hell out here, Dutch. You don’t say anything when Charles or Sean parade around without a shirt.” You protested his sexism.

Dutch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I do not have time to argue with you right now.”

“Well, I do.” You stated, placing the pail down and crossing your arms.

Dutch was searching his brain as to why he had agreed to take you in, “Just… ONLY on hot days, understood?” He gave in, having too much on his mind to stand and argue.

“Yes, sir.” You said, laced with as much sarcasm as you could muster. You picked up your pail and headed to the lake to fill it up.

Arthur was listening to Charles tell him about a lead on a stagecoach carrying a lot of money when he spotted you on the shore of the lake, bent over and filling up a pail. He could see the distinction between your upper thighs and the roundness of your ass. He shifted his feet as he could feel blood starting to head south.

“Arthur? Are you listening to me?” Charles snapped Arthut out of his filthy thoughts.

“Yes, I am! Go on…” He lied.

Charles turned his head to see you walking back towards camp, immediately noticing your new bottoms. Seeing the full bucket in your hand, he could imagine exactly what was holding Arthur’s attention.

“Unbelievable…” He looked back to Arthur and shook his head slightly, “Come talk to me when you're done thinking with your pisser.” Charles said as he walked away.

“I- I wasn’t thinking with my- !” Arthur turned to call at Charles but he was out of earshot by now. He let out a sigh. Why the hell were you walking around like that? God only knows what the other men were thinking about when they saw you. He walked over to Pearson’s wagon where you were emptying the pail of water into a wash basin.

You heard his footsteps approaching you and you turned your head to greet him, “Hey Arthur.”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Arthur’ me… what the hell are you wearing?” He questioned you. You bent down to place the now empty pail on the floor, “Somethin’ I made because it’s so damn hot.” You replied to him.

He clenched his jaw as he felt his cock jump in his pants. Getting to see you bent over up close was nothing compared to earlier.

“You can’t just walk around like that.” Arthur told you as he ran a hand down his face.

“And why not?” You turned to look at him, getting fed up with all the men telling you what to do.

“‘Cause… the men ‘round here are gonna get… impure thoughts.” Arthur lowered his voice for the last part of his sentence.

You sighed and had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “Frankly, Arthur, I don’t give a shit.”

“Well…” He was trying to think of a way to convince you to cover up without outing his jealousy. “Ya just need to cover up…” He spit out, “I’ll find ya something.” He put a hand on your upper back and led you to his tent and let down the covers for privacy the second you both were inside.

You sighed and leaned on his cot, arms crossed across your chest in defiance. You looked around his space, it had a lot more space than your tent. His wasn’t even a tent, it was a tarp over the overhang of his wagon. He had a flower, a carton of cigarettes, and a photo on a crate near his bed.

“Here.” Arthur handed you a pair of pants he’d been digging in a chest of clothes to find.

You took the pants and immediately set them down on his cot next to you, “I’m not gonna change, Arthur. It’s too hot.”

You met his gaze as he sighed and noticed a flush over his cheeks and a sheen of sweat on his face and chest. He even had a few more buttons of his shirt undone today. Your eyes continued down his body until you noticed an unusually large bulge in his pants. It made sense now as to why he was so desperate to get you to cover yourself.

“Arthur?” You called to the flustered man, looking strictly at your face.

“Yeah?” His throat sounded a little dry.

“Are you the man in camp having “impure” thoughts about me?” You decided to tease him.

“No, I’m just trying to look out for you is all.” He deflected, now avoiding looking at you entirely.

You pushed yourself off his cot and took a few steps closer to him. You placed a hand on the side of his face gently and turned his heat to meet your eyes once again.

“That’s too bad. Because you’d be the only person I’d want to be havin’ those thoughts ‘bout me.” You rubbed your thumb against his cheek softly.

“...Really?” He took a moment to respond to you, unsure if what he had just heard was correct.

You nodded at him, “Mhm… You gonna kiss me, Arthur Morgan, or do I have to?” You teased him.

Arthur placed his hands on your waist and closed the space in between you and gently kissed you.

You closed your eyes and sighed happily into the kiss, you moved your hand to the back of his neck and deepened the kiss and parted your mouth slightly.

Arthur slid his tongue into your mouth and tugged your body closer until it was flush with his. You could feel the pressure of his clothed erection against you which caused your face to flush. You reluctantly broke the kiss and instructed Arthur to sit on his cot. He obeyed and sat so that his back was resting against the wagon. You climbed on top of his lap, legs on either side of him and kissed him again, your hands on either side of his face. Arthur’s hands found their way to your ass and he began to knead your flesh.

This caused you to moan into his mouth and grind your hips down on to his strained erection. Arthur’s grip on your ass tightened and he began to plant kisses down your neck. You moved your hands down and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and explored his torso with your hands.

One of Arthur’s hands left your ass and slipped in the front of your shorts and found your clit with ease.

You gasped at the feeling of his hand in your pants, it was like all your fantasies were coming true in this single moment. You fumbled with the buckle to his gun holster and then groaned in annoyance when you found he had another belt buckle to get through.

“Too many fucking buckles.” You whispered, more to yourself than to Arthur, but it earned you a chuckle from the beautiful man beneath you. You worked on his belt buckle while Arthur’s fingers began to rub you in lazy circles.

You leaned your forehead on his shoulder and moaned softly at the sensation. You wanted to make him feel just as good, so you got his belt off and ripped open his pants and shoved your hand down them and found his cock. He was definitely gifted, just the right length and the most girth you’ve ever felt. He let out a groan of pleasure, he spread around the wetness you were producing and easily slid two fingers inside you. It was like a competition of who could make the other person feel the best.

You moaned, louder than you mean to, when you felt his fingers inside you. You began to kiss him sloppily, and open-mouthed as you grinded down on his digits. You also began to stroke his length, earning a muffled moan from Arthur.

You broke the kiss and straightened your back, causing Arthur’s fingers to hit your g-spot. You moaned and started to move your hips faster, speeding up your strokes as well.

“Yes, please, Arthur, right there!” You could feel yourself getting closer to your release. You started to apply more pressure to the head of Arthur’s cock on each stroke. You could feel his body start to tense up.

“Gonna make me cum with all your dirty talkin’” Arthur grunted.

“Can’t help it. You feel so good.” You blubbered, starting to feel incoherent from all the pleasure.

Arthur used his thumb to rub your clit at the same time. You used your free hand to clasp onto his shoulder as your orgasm peaked and washed over you.

“Holy shit.” You moaned as you rode yourself through the pleasure.

You unknowingly had tightening your grip on Arthur’s member and he began to thrust his hips up in time with your strokes. Arthur moved both his hands to a death grip onto your waist as he moaned with his own climax.

“So fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He praised you as he used one hand to move some hair that was sticking to your face with sweat. His cum had splattered onto his own naked torso and onto your white chemise.

You sighed in contentment and leaned all your weight against Arthur, feeling exhausted.

Arthur stroked your head and mumbled all sorts of nonsense at you.

“Don’t know how long I’ve been wanting that… Better than I could have imagined too.” He kissed your head.

His words made you smile, “Well, now I’m yours so we can do it whenever you want.” You told him, your subtle way of confessing your feelings.

“Sounds perfect.” He switched from stroking your hair to rubbing your back, “But I’m the only one who gets to see you in these, okay?” He said, a hand resting on your ass. You blushed and nodded, “Alright.” You assured him as you straightened up and slid off his lap.

“Give me the goddamn pants.” You finally gave in.

Arthur gave you a smile as he gave you the pants that were next to him and you slid them on.

“Looks like you need a shirt too.” He observed, a stripe of cum was already drying on your shirt.

“Mmh, everyone’s definitely gonna know something’s up when I come out in your clothes.” You took off your shirt and grabbed one of Arthur’s button ups and put it on.

Arthur shrugged slightly, “Pretty sure the whole damn town knew I was sweet on ya.” He cleaned up himself and buttoned his shirt and pants, followed by his belt and gun holster.

You smiled at him, “I could say the same thing.” You said, giving him a kiss.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x gn reader

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forgetminot · 9 months

Text

Sharing Cigarettes.

✿ Arthur Morgan x gn reader ✿

Warnings : Both Arthur and reader smoking, fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst if you blink, reader is sarcastic and blunt (just like our man, he's a bad influence)

Author's Note : I love him

Summary : You and Arthur share a cigarette by the lake.

You make your way through the forest; the faint glow from the moon shines through the cracks in the trees and lights up the dirt path ahead of you. The only sounds that can be heard are the snapping of twigs and the rustle of leaves as you walk. You continue along the small trail and push the stray branches away with your hands as you step out onto the pebbled beach.

"Took you long enough, thought you got lost." You roll your eyes slightly at the gruff voice and make your way across the beach towards the faint glow in front of you.

"You could have waited." You mumble, raising your brow as the man shrugs.

"Would have been sat waitin' a while."

"You are so annoying." You groan, reaching out and snatching the lit cigarette from his hand.

"Don't you have your own damn cigarettes?" He protests.

"Sharing is caring, Arthur." You smile as you lift the smoke to your lips. He mumbles something quietly under his breath as you inhale deeply. "What's put you in such a mood?" You tease.

"You, for starters."

"Wow, I'm hurt." You smile, taking the cigarette and holding it out towards Arthur.

"Just Dutch driving me crazy, is all." He responds as he takes his cigarette back from you.

"Dutch is always driving everyone crazy, doesn't usually put you in such a bad mood." You move to lean beside Arthur, the rock digging into your back uncomfortably.

"He seems more... Out of it, than usual."

"In what way?" You question, turning to face him as he blows smoke into the air.

"You haven't noticed?" Arthur asks as he hands you back his cigarette and you take it with a smile.

"I mean, I guess?" You sigh. "I don't know, I think everyone is feeling that way lately."

"You not feeling the best?"

"Don't get me wrong, I love everyone in camp." You laugh quietly to yourself. "Let's just say... it's nice to have some alone time, like we are right now."

"So you like my company?" Arthur teases.

"Suppose you are okay to be around." You joke back as you blow a cloud of smoke in his direction, earning a small glare in return.

"Now my feelings are hurt." He mocks, placing his palm against his chest.

"I'm sure you will get over it." You look down at the cigarette between your fingers. "Do you have another?" You ask as you motion to the nearly dull one.

"No." He replies casually.

"No? Well aren't you useful." You tut sarcastically.

"I wasn't plannin' on sharing" He mutters as he swipes the cigarette from your hand.

"Hey! Didn't Dutch ever teach you it's rude to steal." You grin as you reach out.

"Quite the opposite, actually." He jokes, tilting his head back against the rock as he holds his cigarette up into the air.

"Shari-"

"Sharing is caring." He mocks, lifting the cigarette higher from your grasp. "Go on, You can do it!" He cheers.

"I hate you." You laugh as you hit him lightly across his chest.

"Thought I was, okay to be around?" He repeats your words as you move back to your previous spot against the rock.

"I sometimes wonder why I enjoy your presence."

"So now you enjoy bein' around me?" He smiles widely as you groan and passes you back the cigarette.

"Thank you." You mumble.

"What was that?" He laughs gently as you ignore his question and inhale another drag.

"You ever gone night fishing?" You ask out of the blue.

"I ain't the best when it comes to fishing." He mentions, gazing out onto the lake.

"I know that. That's not what I asked." You grin cheekily.

"Why are you asking?" He questions, taking back the cigarette once more.

"Because I want to go fishing." You state bluntly.

"Go fishing then." He responds- just as bluntly as you.

"Not much fun to go on my own."

"Ask Hosea." He suggests.

"Hosea isn't here, you fool." You step forwards from the rock and cross your arms against your chest as you stare back at Arthur.

"Fine, I'll come fishing with you." He sighs, dropping the smoke into the sand and stomping it out with his boot.

"Ain't like your going to be doing much, you wont catch anything." You Jest, smiling to yourself as you head towards the lake.

"Is that a challenge?" He laughs faintly as he follows after you.

"It will be an easy challenge." You grin.

"You have no idea what you are getting yourself into." He chuckles as you both stop at the shoreline.

"Oh it's on, Morgan."

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sankttealeaf · 1 year

Text

artistic endeavours

pairing ; arthur morgan x gender neutral!reader

summary ; during a walk around Saint Denis, you find yourself drawing a rather interesting stranger's horse.

other info ; this is completely self-indulgent, because all i want to do is draw with arthur. first time doing any sort of 'x reader' and i had a lot of fun. it's so silly i love it. left the ending open ended because i thought of a part 2 if people are interested <3

word count: 2.5k

psst, part two is here: masterpieces

Finding inspiration for various art projects came easy to you while living in Saint Denis - the city was full of interesting subjects to study and draw, and whenever you found yourself in a creative block it didn't take much to reignite the spark. You had signed up to paint some pieces for a new exhibition at the end of the month, “The Beauty of Saint Denis”, a love letter to the city you currently called home, and so far everything had been going smoothly. Three paintings were complete, with another needing a few finishing touches. The issue was with your main piece, a large oil painting of the Théâtre Râleur at night. Something was missing and you had no idea what it was. With a few days left to go for all submissions to be collected by the gallery, you were running out of time to make this work. You were hoping that some of these paintings would be sold during the exhibitions, and you really couldn’t afford to give up now.

The room you used as your art studio was beginning to feel stuffy and small; the ventilation was poor and you had forgotten to open a window to let some air in when you first started this morning. Perhaps that was why you were pulling your hair out, trying to get something down on the canvas - the oil paint was starting to mess with your mind. You sighed, deciding that now was the best time to go for a walk, find something for lunch and not think too much about how close you were to starting this painting from scratch, not that you had the time to do so. You packed away your sketchbook, grabbing a few charcoal pencils and crayons too in case you saw something that sparked inspiration, and left. Fresh air would do you good, you told yourself.

The city was busier than usual today as you stepped out onto the street, the midday sun warming you up immediately. Your plan was to walk around for a bit, just to see if anything felt interesting to draw, and then grab some food. The walk and air would do you good, even if nothing was drawn. You walked around slowly, pausing every now and then to take down some notes on people’s outfits, wondering if you should add a crowd outside of the theatre to make it look busy. The more you imagined it in your head, the more you decided it wouldn't hurt to try. You quickly sketched down a few ideas, before moving on, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself from those you were drawing. The last thing you wanted was for someone to get angry that you were doing that - it had happened more times than you liked to admit. You decided to loop around the docks, and then walk back around and stop off at that bakery you frequented a lot.

The docks were busy, but there was no surprise there. People walked about, carrying boxes and bags between places. There was enough going on here to definitely spark some form of creativity, and you hoped that something would be interesting to draw. You took a moment to scan over your surroundings, trying to piece together things that could work with your painting at home when you saw something. A lone horse was hitched outside the general store, and it felt like a perfect thing to draw.

You took out your sketchbook as you approached the horse, careful not to spook it. The pattern was something you had never seen much of before, and it stood out to you the moment you saw it. Maybe a horse was missing from your painting? You began to quickly sketch out the main shapes of the horse, keeping it loose and soft to get the basic idea of how everything fits together. Once you had filled up a page on quick drawings, moving around to get different angles, you opened to a double page and began a more detailed drawing.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest thing,” you mumbled softly, taking a small step to the side to get a better view of her head. You took more time with this drawing, making sure to capture all the details you could, from the markings to the way her mane fell to the style of the bridle. A quick look at the horse and you could tell that her owner loved her a lot, she was clean and looked well fed, and if you knew what kind of treats she liked, you would definitely give her lots of them.

You found yourself getting lost in the piece, now moving on to giving it pops of colour. Your charcoal pencil was tucked behind your ear, and you switched out between two colours to try and match the shade of its coat. The more you thought about it, the more it would fit well in the painting of the theatre. You were excited to go back home to add her in.

"If you're goin' to steal her, you might wanna be a bit quicker at it next time." A voice spoke, taking you by surprise. You quickly turned around to see the owner of it - a tall, rather rugged looking man. The guns at his side made you weary, and you closed your sketchbook, holding it closer to you.

"Oh, no, I ain't in the horse stealing business, sir," you said quickly, taking a step back to put some distance between you, him, and the horse. "But if I was, your horse would be one I'd steal." The words left your mouth before your mind could tell you that it probably wasn't the best way to compliment someone's horse.

The stranger raised his eyebrow at you, giving you a once over. "Sounds like somethin’ a horse thief would say.” He let out a small chuckle to himself, and then shrugged. “You don’t look like much of one, anyway.”

He wasn’t wrong, you definitely didn't give off the same vibes as a horse thief, though you didn't know many to compare yourself to. You watched as he gave you a nod, walking around to the opposite side of the horse.

"Definitely not going to steal her." You looked down at your sketchbook, giving it a small wave in his direction. "Just drawing her, if that's alright. She looked really interesting, and I've been facing a real bad block lately."

“Saint Denis seems to have a lot of you artsy folk around, huh?” He asked, as you nodded.

“It’s a unique city. I find that there are a lot of things to draw here,” you replied, opening up back to the page you were just on. “Lots of horses, too. None as good as yours, though.”

“You sure you ain’t trying to steal her?” He raised an eyebrow, and you were quick to shake your head again.

“I promise I’m not!”

“I’m just messing with you.” He gave you a smile. “You're some kind of artist, then?”

You nodded. “It’s one of the only things I’ve got going for me right now. I came to Saint Denis to capture its beauty, and haven’t left since.”

“Beauty is a strong word for this place,” he replied, scrunching his nose up as he spoke, and you tilted your head to the side in confusion.

“You don’t like it?”

“Too crowded. Too… city-like.”

You let out a laugh. “Funny that, considerin’ it is a city.” You turned to a new page, deciding to get a closer sketch of the horse’s head. “I hope I ain’t keeping you or anything.”

“Nah, you’re fine,” he said, and you looked up to see him take out a brush from his bag, giving his horse a quick brush down. “I know how frustrating it can be when the thing you’re drawing leaves too soon.”

“You’re an artist, too?” You stopped, giving him a look up and down. He didn't seem like the artistic type from the outside, but you supposed looks could be deceiving. He looked to be the kind of person you would bump into late at night, looking for trouble. The guns on his sides didn't help with that much, but he didn't appear to be threatening. The way he looked at his horse was anything but threatening.

“I draw. Not a proper artist or anythin’.” He looked at you, and you gave him a small smile.

“I think anyone who draws can be considered a proper artist,” you said, as he shrugged in response.

You watched him for a few moments, before going back to your sketch, smoothing some lines out to give the impression of shadows and depth. It wasn’t your best work, but for a fast sketch, it was decent. The stranger had moved during your sketch session, and was now leaning up against one of the wooden poles that held up one of the various awnings on the store, hat tipped in front of his face. You paused for a moment, your pencil hovering over the page before the horse’s head. With a deep breath, you began to very loosely draw the man. You had drawn other people that day, so there was nothing weird about doing it again. But with the person so close, you could feel your cheeks warm up from embarrassment - all he needed to do was look up and catch you drawing him. But he didn't.

You kept things simple, using few lines to give the impression of features, smudging other lines to use as shadows. A quick line behind him, and you had a very rough outline. You took a mental note of the colours he was wearing - a dark red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the well worn jeans, the dark boots. He looked like trouble, and yet here he was, letting you draw his horse without a complaint.

The sudden rumble from your stomach brought you out from your drawing session, and you knew you had enough to use as a reference for your painting now. You did feel a little bad for keeping him waiting, and looked down at your drawing of his horse’s head. You didn't have any change you could give him to thank him for your time, but you did have art… With one quick movement, you ripped out the page. Closing your sketchbook and shoving it back into your bag, you approached where he was leaning.

“Sorry for keeping you around,” you said, as he tipped his hat back, looking at you. He straightened up, giving you a nonchalant wave of his hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it’s easier to draw things when they’re still,” he said. “You done?”

“Yes. Thank you. Uh, here-” You held out the drawing for him with a smile. “It’s not much, and you don’t have to take it, but… a token of gratitude, if you will.”

He looked down at the paper, gently taking it from you. You watched as he held it up to where his horse was, looking between them. “‘Ain’t much’? I can’t even tell the difference between the drawin’ and her!” He looked at you with a smile. “Thanks, uh…?”

You told him your name quickly, holding out a hand for him to shake. Between all the art, you had completely forgotten to introduce yourself.

He took your hand in his, giving it a firm shake. “Arthur Morgan.”

“Thank you, Arthur, for letting me draw your horse,” you said, taking a small step back once you let go of his hand. You wondered if it would be weird to invite him along to the opening night of the exhibition, as you felt pretty confident now that you’d be able to finish the piece. You knew what it was missing now, after all. He carefully placed your drawing in his satchel, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. You rarely share your art with anyone, let alone hand someone a piece for free, and you weren’t too sure what had gotten into you to do that. There was something about Arthur that made you feel like you could share it easily. You stepped aside to allow him to walk by you to his horse.

Arthur gave you a nod, as he walked to his horse, unhitching the reins from the post. He turned to look at you. “There’s a lot of good places outside Saint Denis to draw at,” he said, pulling the reins over his horse’s head. “Lots of animals, too. Even more horses.”

“Maybe I’ll have to branch out one day,” you replied with a laugh. “Take a week long trip out to New Hanover, I’ve heard a lot about the landscape there.”

He seemed like a well travelled man to you, and you could easily see yourself going around to different places to draw landscapes and animals and people. Horses were expensive, so you would have to travel by train, and then find somewhere to stay… Maybe you would take his recommendation. You could always do with new focuses to paint whenever you got bored of Saint Denis.

You hadn’t told many people that your art was going to be displayed yet, and Arthur seemed interested enough in art. It wouldn't hurt to drop the suggestion, right? You searched through your bag for a small card that held the information for the exhibition on it. Your brain was telling you that it was strange to ask him to come along, but you pushed the thought away. It’s a public event, anyone could come, it didn't mean anything if you asked him to drop by. He turned to mount his horse, and you spoke up.

“If you’re in the area at the end of the month-” you started, making him look back at you. You took another deep breath to get you through this, holding out the business card to him, “the gallery downtown is hosting an exhibition, and I should have some art up on display there…” You hoped he understood what you were hinting at, as the thought of asking this stranger to see your artwork was causing a bubble of anxiety to rise in you. “Opening night is when I’ll be there, but it’ll be up for a week after that if you're still in the city.”

He took the business card from you, reading it and flipping it over in his hand. “I’ll drop by if I can,” he said with a smile, and you felt your anxieties leave you. With a smile, he nodded at you, before pulling himself up onto his horse. “Been nice talkin’ to you.”

“You too, Arthur.” You gave him a small wave. “If you ever need a drawing partner, be sure to let me know!”

“I might just take you up on that offer,” he laughed, and you watched as he left, walking off down the street.

Nothing would come of it, most likely, but the idea of going around with someone and drawing together filled your mind. Especially with the idea of travelling - maybe this was your calling? To travel and paint together with someone. You pushed that thought away, not wanting to get too attached to the idea, however lovely it may be.

You began your walk back home, eager to get out the paints. This was going to be one of your best pieces ever, and you were now looking forward to the exhibition instead of dreading it.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

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rozzi-splatter · 1 year

Note

ME FIRST

rolling eyes and say something smart x reader for arthur <3

Well, not what I was expecting but sure I'll give it a go for you whoever the fuck you are

Shit Day - Arthur Morgan x GNS!Reader because you didn't specify a gender

"God damn... I'm burning up, what kinda plan was this?" You removed your hat and stood up straight beginning to fan yourself as you looked around the yellow hued swamp. "He ain't been quite right since Blackwater, why are we followin' him again, mister Morgan?" you turned to your partner in crime, watching him drop down from his horse.

Arthur as man as ever, held an unlit cigarette between gloved fingers. "Quit ya' talkin' and pass me the binoculars" he slipped it between his lips and snapped a match across his glove. It lift up like a firefly. A dying one.

"What good is going to look at a little town? Its got like four houses" You stood next to him, yanking your foot from the sludge. You held up your binoculars and let out a heavy sigh continuing to fan yourself as much as possible.

"God knows, bud, he ain't been righ' since Blackwater"

You paused your fanning and slowly turned your head. "Didn't I just say that?" you questioned, raising a brow. You fought the shiver threatening to run down your spin when sweat dripped unexpectedly on your neck.

"Didn't I tell you to quit talkin'?" Arthur replied, eyes pressed to the binoculars. He could practically hear you rolling your eyes. "Keep rollin' ya' eyes at me, maybe you'll find a brain back there... Highly unlikely though but at least ya' tryin'" he spoke loudly then slowly broke into a murmur as he leaned forward slightly to look at a specific target.

"Excuse me? You wanna say that again?" you glared at him and then looked back to the little village, smacking his chest with the back of your hand. "What are we even here for besides giving Dutch more time to think of a new plan speech?" you grumbled.

"Not any longer so yer can stop complainin' now" Arthur smacked the binoculars into your chest.

"Oof!" you grunted, grabbing the equipment. "Damn meat head, we coulda' gone for a drink, ya' know, Morgan,, eaten something other than blown to bits rabbit or left over stew..." you grumbled, stomping lightly in the swampy sludge as you walked back to your horse. "Sweatin' like a sinner in church too"

"Keep talkin', ya'll say something smart eventually" Arthur replied, hoisting himself up on to the saddle. "There's my good boah"

"I will shit in your cot, Arthur, I swear to God" You tapped your ankle against your horse's side, turning it and followed after Arthur in a light trot. Both of you soon broke into a canter down the now more dusty, dry road into the trees.

"Makes a change from Micah spouting shit"

"One drink!"

"No"

"But you drank with Lenny!"

"You ain't Lenny"

"I don't face plant in a pig pen tryin' to out run the law..."

"Don't make me come back there!"

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #male reader #female reader #gn reader

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misterier · 1 year

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kacey procrastinating??? no he'd never...

take some short fruity cowboy game hcs for my obsession and the soul<3

Arthur Morgan with a gn/male(could be seen as fem ig?? but it's intended for masc) s/o 😻

tw: eating problems bc we all know Arthur probably doesn't take care of himself

He's literally stunning stfu😭

- doesn't care about his s/os gender, just that they treat him well

- probably touch starved but won't admit it💀

- also doesn't like pda, he'll hold hands or put his hand around their waist if something happens but he keeps it pretty private

- easy asf to fluster, a couple of well done compliments to him and he's hiding his face with his hat and trying to deny them and compliment them back

- draws his s/o all the time and sometimes feels bad because he doesn't think he did their beauty justice, but if he lets them see it and they hang it up in their tent all proud his mind would ease slightly

- likes holding hands allot in private, he likes touch he just doesn't accept it well so I think he'd keep touches small but meaningful

- he can flirt well unintentionally but if he tries he ends up really shy😭

- real protective but he won't stop his s/o from goin' out with him but he will be extra cations if he knows it's especially risky and will constantly ask of they're sure they want to go

- when he's drunk he'll get really clingy and emotional for his s/o, holding onto them more than he normally would

- he likes having his s/o around and just doing nothing, like just having them in the same room is all he needs, not big extravagant dates

- probably not very jealous, sometimes he gets kinda nervous though but he snaps out of it easy

- he trusts his s/o and he expects the same from them, probably gets confused or starts laughing if they're the jealous type

- I think he'd read to his s/o sometimes ☹️like they're both cuddled up in bed and he just pulls out a book and just quietly start reading to them

- like stated before he not one for pda, but he does love being touched while alone and comfortable, he adores cuddles and falls asleep that way. He prefers having them lay on his chest or cuddle up to his chest, but if his s/o can't sleep like that or he needs comfort he's a little spoon, he adores being held by his lover, he honestly thrives on touch and people

- he listens allot, not really very talkative, just listens to his s/o rant about whatever they want, occasionally writing notes about what they say in his journal while drawing them as they speak

- he's not a stalker, he just likes to watch his s/o from a distance sometimes, he loves seeing how they react around different people and how their eyes light up around the people they care for

- he really likes his s/os hand tbh, like he'll hold them constantly and just gently kiss their knuckles and rub the back or the palm, watching every movement with the most adoring eyes

- this man takes care of everything but himself, like his s/o has to force him to bathe sometimes, full-on pulling a Grimshaw sometimes 💀 also gotta watch his eating, he just goes off for days and forgets about food and even when he comes back he just ignores it, his s/o has to remind him or he'll forget until it's actually painful and he has to slowly eat something to regain strength

-he can go weeks without talking to his s/o and will bounce back as if nothing happened, if they get awkward and need time to adjust to him being back he'll be alright with it and slowly ease up their comfort again by quietly helping them with their horse care or bringing them coffee after they finish their chores, bringing them stew when they come back after a short job

-he loves them a lot tbh, but he only shows it in small ways, soft touches, kinder words, flicks to the forehead and arms, small gifts, remembering important dates(good and bad), will intentionally track animals if he knows something is coming up and his s/o likes a specific meat he'll make sure to hunt it and bring it back for pearson

#guys..im alive!!????#holy shit who would had guessed fr #anyway I suck at tagging my bad #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr x reader #rdr x male reader #im so sorry I'll get to the star trek requests one day I swear #im just into the silly lil cowboys rn I'll came back to the fruity space kids

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pryce0 · 1 year

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Am I a Bad Man? - Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader (Part 2)

gif by: @haveyouseengavin

word count; 1,718

Masterlist: here

First Part: here

tag: @dontbethatguy20

————————

Arthur didn’t come back for a good 2 days, and with every minute that passed by that he didn’t return, you felt worse and worse.You made the effort to leave camp in an attempt to find him, but it was no use; there were 3 states he could’ve possibly been in and it would take weeks to search every single one. You confided in Hosea, not with every detail because you KNOW Arthur is self conscious and wouldn’t want his business to be talked about by everyone. “Well, you did hurt his feelings, dear.” Hosea murmured, a book in his hands as he sits on an empty crate at an empty table. You can’t help but think, ‘Arthur would be sitting here with him if I didn’t drive him out.’

You nod and nervously pick at the dead skin around your thumbnail, glancing at him and around the camp. “I know, I‘ve been lookin’ for him, I even shouted for him to stop but..” You trail off as shame floods your senses again. You know it was so very wrong to take it out on him; especially when you know he’s insecure about what you said. Arthur had written countless times in his journal about being a bad man, has confided in you about being a horrible person, yet you still ended up shouting at him.

The events that transpired replay in your head, over and over and over.

“Yeah, go fucking do your job like the goddamn mutt you are, Morgan. Go kill for him, go torture for Dutch. Live up to your reputation, why don’t you?? Oh, it isn’t even a fucking reputation by this point, it’s the truth.”

There’s nothing but the distant sound of the gang celebrating after your piercing sentence. Arthur’s jaw is dropped, looking back at you with such betrayal. Your heart drops to your stomach as you process everything you just said. Cold panic floods your veins as you watch him stutter in pure shock and anger. “Fuck, Arthur, I-“

“Don’t.”

Arthur’s expression tore you apart on the spot, and even now you feel sick thinking about how betrayed he looked. You were the one person he trusted to make him feel like he was normal, like he wasn’t the person he is, the man who collects debts, the man who kills for money, the man who steals from anyone who needs stealin’— despite Dutch’s sayings that he doesn’t even follow. Arthur trusted you and you threw that confidence away like it was nothing, with only a few sentences.

“He will come back,” Hosea says quietly, closing his book and he keeps his eyes trained on you. Like he’s searching for your emotions; he finds your regret, your remorse, your panic. You feel the dark swirling feeling of all of this combined. “I need him.. to come back.” You wanted to stop at ‘I need him’ but you know it wasn’t appropriate right now; this isn’t about you, it’s about your words and how Arthur was affected. You didn’t want to take anything more away from him.

Hosea sighs quietly and glances around, standing up from the crate and placing his hands on the table in front of him. He leans towards you with a quiet voice, getting the memo you want to keep this on the down-low. “Look, why don’t you take a ride, or go hunt? Keep yourself preoccupied?” He questions you, pushing his sleeve back where it was supposed to be as it was slowly shifting down his arm. “Trust me, Dutch and I have raised that boy since he was a teenager. He’ll come back real soon.” Hosea goes to leave the table but he turns to me with a pause, his voice going soft. “You mean a lot to him, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud. Sort this out with him, yeah?”

You pause and nod, staring at Hosea as he coughs into his fist, grabbing his book and walking off to his tent. You take a deep breath before walking off to your own and kneeling down, grabbing one of the handles to your weapons trunk from under your bed. You drag it out with some resistance, considering it’s been sitting and sinking into the dirt below for a couple of weeks now. You flip open the tab and open it up, grabbing one of your shorter rifles; most of your stuff is on your horse, but you have a lucky rifle. Maybe you’ll catch something good, considering you lost something good. You sling the weapon over your shoulder and walk over to your horse, putting your foot in the stirrup and grunting as you get onto the saddle. You grab the reins and quietly urge your horse to start moving, going down the path from camp, and you don’t know where you want to go. Just anywhere but here.

—————————

You find yourself in a woodsy area, about 30ish minutes away from camp. You sigh and loosely wrap the reins of your horse around a low branch. You begin to softly talk to your horse like always, grabbing an apple out of the satchel that is attached to your saddle. “Here you go, girl. Eat up.” You murmur, and your horse graciously takes the apple between her teeth and crunches down on it. You’re silent for a moment before laughing humorlessly, petting the side of her neck, feeling her fur underneath your fingers. “I really messed up, huh, girl? I haven’t seen him in a few days, now..” Your horse neighs in nearly an annoyed tone, digging at the ground with her hoove. You let out another, yet quieter laugh before speaking again. “Yeah, I know. You’re mad at me, too. My apples don’t compare to the ones he manages to get his hands on, hm? Yeah, don’t think I don’t see him sneakin’ snacks to you, girl. I see it.”

You inhale deeply and you get a whiff of smoke nearby, which means someone is definitely camping near here. You grunt under your breath as that means this isn’t really the greatest place to be hunting. You turn to look and to your surprise, the camp isn’t too far away; and there’s a mighty familiar horse tied to a tree nearby.

It’s Arthur’s horse.

Your eyes light up and your heart skips a beat; do you approach? Do you give him space? Before you can second guess yourself, you end up approaching the camp, glancing around nervously. “..Arthur?” You call out just loud enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear you. At first, you’re met with the silence of the night, besides the occasional bug sound. Is he not here?

“Arthur?” You call out just a bit louder, and immediately a man steps out from the other side of the horse; and it’s him.

He looks conflicted, his eyebrows furrowed together, his lower lip slightly puckering out like it always does when he is feeling annoyed. You pause and you stare at him for a moment before opening your lips. However, nothing comes out within the first few seconds. What is there to say? How do you apologize for the things you’ve said?

“..I want to apologize, Arthur. Genuinely apologize. Can you please listen to me?” You plead quietly as you slowly step towards him. He raises his hands and then lowers them with a bewildered expression. “How did you find me?” He asks, straight to the point. You pick at the skin on your thumbnail again. “By accident,” You answer honestly. “Hosea told me to go hunt while I waited for you to return back to camp.”

You quietly sigh and motioned to the campfire. “Can we sit? I.. I want to have a conversation.”

Arthur presses his lips together, trying to hold it together. He decides to comply silently, taking his seat on his bedroll. You sit next to him, although there’s a reasonable distance between you and him.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” You begin, looking at him, whose eyes are staring straight into the campfire before you two. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I want you to know that I didn’t mean anything I said. I was havin’ a terrible day; and that excuses nothin’ I said. I don’t think you’re a mutt, or Dutch’s little pet. You aren’t a bad ma-“

“Don’t you even go there because we both know damn well I am.” Arthur interrupts you quietly, avoiding all eye contact. Your eyes furrow as he speaks, his tone firm yet nearly shaken. Arthur picks grass and dirt off his pants as he waits for you to continue, even hiding his face with his hat. “I will go there because you aren’t that bad man. You’ve done so much good, you take care of the people you love. You are a loyal man, someone who is willing to provide, no matter the circumstances.” You murmur, inching closer to him. Your heart picks up a bit as all you want to do is kiss him until he forgets everything, and you’ve wanted to do that for so long. If you had said this to anyone else, you wouldn’t have made such an effort to find him at first. Arthur glances at you and then he looks away, but he doesn’t move away. That’s a good start. “I’ve done terrible things too, darlin’.” He whispers in an attempt to mask his emotions, but you know him too well. You lean closer and cup his cheek, guiding his face to look at you. You make eye contact with Arthur and your soft, loving eyes meet his guilty and solemn ones. “Your actions do not define you. You have never been a terrible man to me, Arthur.”

He swallows his spit, Adam's apple jumping in his throat. “Y.. You mean that?”

You nod with a soft smile. “If you were the bad man you think you are, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t be talking to you like this, I don’t talk to anyone else the way I talk to you, sir.”

Arthur doesn’t exactly smile, but you can see his expression lift ever so slightly. Your thumb brushes against his cheek as you whisper, “You’re the best man I’ve ever known, Mister Morgan.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #angst #arthur morgan x you #romance #arthur morgan x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort #part 2 #requests are open #requested

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amorgansgal · 2 years

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Hiya! I adore your writings! I wanted to ask how would the boys confess to their crush?

Aww, thank you! :D I have done Arthur, Sean and Micah for this ask, I hope that's ok. Hope you enjoy! It's mostly all SFW, though Micah is... Micah.

It's Just a Little Crush!

Arthur Morgan

You’ll be lucky if you ever find out!

The man will first repress any feelings he has for you, chalking things up to just being impressed with your skills and appreciating the work you do around camp. He doesn’t ACTUALLY have feelings for you, he just thinks you’re a pretty good person to have around.

But truth be told, he finds himself making excuses to stay in camp when you’re there or riding out with you on jobs. He’s something of a worry wort and keeps an eye on you, then feels bad for looming over you like a hawk!

When he has to stay away from camp he thinks fondly about your smile and laugh, and how much you make him smile and laugh. He misses the sound of your voice, the way you affectionately pat his arm and feed his horse peppermints when you think Arthur isn’t watching.

Really, it’s only when he’s away from you that he realises how he’s fond of you and debates for an eternity about telling you how he feels.

If he’s unable to move pass how he feels, then he might tell you, but it could be a year or more until he actually does reveal all!

If he does, he’s very earnest, but also terrified that you might reject him. He’ll nervously glance up at your face, trying to guess what you’re thinking and feeling.

‘Ain’t goin’ to lie anymore, darlin’, I’ve grown sweet on ya. Have felt that way for a while. I know I ain’t a good man, don’ deserve ya, but I do… like yer quite a bit.’

Sean MacGuire

Subtlety is Sean’s middle name, so he behaves very gentlemanly and takes things slow and…

Ah! Who am I kidding?

Sean adores you and thinks you and the whole world ought to know about that. But as per Sean, he can’t tell you in private and be earnest and sweet about it, he waits until he’s absolutely drunk.

He stands up on a table, with several people yelling at him to get down or be careful, and he proclaims to all there how beautiful/handsome you are and that you’re the best person he’s ever met and you bring joy to his life and he’s going to marry you someday!

Everyone assumes it’s just a bit of a joke and you get some teasing you about it. But Sean manages to fall off the table, kicking his boot off into Charles’ face and dislocating his shoulder in the process!

With all the drama, Sean’s loud declaration is entirely forgotten! By the time Sean has his shoulder moved back into place, drunk another bottle of whiskey for the pain and then slept until morning, he has forgotten he even said anything.

You manage to bring him breakfast and he beams on seeing you, then frowns his sore arm and the sling it’s in. But he grins at you pretty quickly.

‘Must’ve been a hell of a night!’

‘Yes,’ you bite back your laugh. ‘You might have said something about me being the most beautiful/handsome person you know and bringing joy to your life and wanting to marry me.’

Sean’s eyes go as wide as saucers and for once he’s a little lost for words! He does actually feel that way though hadn’t quite anticipated he would tell you like that. He manages a nervous giggle. ‘Well, guess that’s all true… though maybe we should just go for a meal in Valentine, get t’ know each other a bit more, then think about marryin’!’

Micah Bell

Micah is frustrated and annoyed when he realises he has developed feelings for you. He considers romantic attachment a waste of time and something that will slow him down, make him sloppy and foolish.

He ain’t like Morgan, he’s not got a soft heart.

After his realisation, he’s a lot colder and crueller to you. It’s almost as though he makes more effort to be especially mean and targeted against you. Frustratingly, you don’t really say or do anything in your defence, just roll your eyes and ignore him. Which makes him feel… funny at any rate. If you at least were angry or bitter with him he would stop feeling the way he does.

He also begins to flirt more with the women in camp, making more salacious comments and not being afraid to leer at the girls. And he always makes sure you can both see and hear what’s going on.

You ain’t better than them and you certainly ain’t better than Micah Bell.

It’s not until he finds you cracking jokes with Arthur Morgan, of all people, and laughing, that his blood boils and he drags you off.

‘Fine! Goddammit. I like ya and if I catch you talkin’ with Morgan again, you won’t like what I do sweetheart-’

You don’t seem fussed, you lean against a tree, then smirk and raise a brow. ‘What will you do?’

His heart pounds heavily in his chest and he places two hands beside your head, trapping you in. ‘That ain’t your concern. Don’t let me catch you with him.’

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joanie-writes · 2 years

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Hi there! I have to tell you that I love your style of writing. I saw your post about requests. I had an idea that I’d love to see what you’d do with it. I thought that Arthur has a dream about a lovely little life, all beautiful and perfect. And he sees someone in the dream, but can’t make out who it is with him (maybe he sees a hand or something vaguely familiar but can’t place it) and then suddenly wakes up. And then he realizes it’s the reader in his dream. So when he see them later, he acts all weird and awkward.

Thank you so much for the request, I think this ended up so cute. And I have to say I love your writing as well!

Silver Band

A cold winter makes for warm hearts.

Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

A small cabin hidden away in the woodland with an open field in the back, it was the perfect spot. Arthur was chopping some more firewood near the stable, he could feel the tip of his nose stinging from the cold as the winter wind wiped past him. Bundled up in his thickest coat and tallest boots, he trudged back to the cabin with as much wood as he could carry.

With the grace of an elephant on stilts he tumbled though the door, letting out a relieved sigh at the warmth that greeted him. One piece at a time Arthur took off the snow covered ensemble that he had only just put on to bear the elements outside. From his spot by the door he admired the quaint little home. The log walls were decorated with photos and drawings, some being his own creation and as he walked to the living room, plush rugs cushioned his steps with cozy furniture filling the space.

He fed the weakening fire in the hearth, poking it back to life and returning the hot orange glow of light in the room. A big, old, snoring dog was strewn about on the sofa, making him chuckle. Arthur took a seat next to the dog (trying very hard not to disturb the beast's slumber) and pulled out the trusty leather bound journal. His last entry read,

The snow has trapped the three of us inside, but I would be some kind of fool to ever complain about that. How could I ever be upset about being stuck with the person who has shown me more love than I have ever known? We keep the fire lit in the main room and everything is okay. We cook, clean, and spend time together all while being warm and in love, I couldn't ask for anything more.

Once he had written a few notes for the next day and scribbled out a quick picture of the dog, Arthur got up with a stretch before making his way to the bedroom. A smile appeared on his face when he was met with the view of his love hidden completely under the covers apart from a hand poking out of the side of the quilt. The beautiful hand he kissed the top of daily, the hand he held tightly in his often, and the same hand he had slid a simple silver band onto so many years ago.

A loud crash of metal pots caused Arthur to stir, he rubbed his face with an annoyed huff at the rude awakening. He found himself thinking about that wonderful dream. His sleep was often plagued with dreadful scenes, but that had to be something close to heaven. Arthur could hardly imagine a life outside of the gang but one where he was at peace and in love? And who was the person who had tamed him, the person who ultimately made him a reposed man in that seemingly unobtainable fantasy land? Growing sick of the wandering thoughts, Arthur finally gathered enough energy to sat up and prepare himself for another cold day.

Arthur's gaze shifted over the camp as he emerged from his lodgings, Pearson was sneaking sips of rum while he cooked, Hosea was reading the paper from the nearby town, and you were talking with Tilly. He couldn't help but admire how cute you looked all bundled up in a big coat and the knitted gloves you were sporting. Arthur sure did try his damndest to hide a blush before heading to discuss the day's plans with Dutch.

Deemed too chilly to rob, Arthur was rewarded a day off and even though it was a terrible temperature, he'd enjoy it all the same. Before he could properly relax, a hot cup of coffee was certainly needed. You were at the percolator, filling your own tin mug with the steaming brew, Arthur considered backpedaling once he noticed you but as you greeted him with a warm smile and a soft, "Morning, Arthur," he couldn't turn back.

"Mornin', how you fairing with the cold?" Arthur began the usual small talk, the script in his head well versed.

"I don't mind it, but it is much nicer when you're inside I'll admit that," You laughed, the sound causing Arthur to nearly short circuit, "you want some coffee? It'll warm you right up." You offered, though Arthur's face already felt like it was on fire at only the sight of you.

"Yes, please." Arthur accepted your offer of doing the task he intended doing originally, flattered that you had asked. You filled his mug and set the percolator down afterwards. The steam felt great on his lips that felt blue.

In comfortable silence, you both stood around the crackling campfire, taking slow sips of your drinks. But as you slipped off those damn adorable knit gloves and wrapped your still shivering hands around the hot mug to warm them, Arthur nearly did a spit take. There upon your right ring finger instead of your left was that same silver ring he had seen in his dream.

The practiced lines in his head burned up; you had obviously noticed the subtle look of surprise on Arthur's face when you removed your gloves. "Where'd you get that ring? It's er- pretty." Arthur asked, praying that the almost smooth delivery of his question would distract from what had just happened.

You smiled once more while you held your hand outwards to admire the jewelry, "Y'know, I've had it so long that I can hardly remember. It's my favourite though." Arthur smiled, noting how happy you sounded while you reflected on the silver band.

"I actually bought a ring once, I worked real hard for it too. Now it's just sittin' in a drawer somewhere." Arthur admitted, the honest words spilling out without any control or restraint. You frowned slightly, a sight that Arthur never wanted to see again.

"Well, whoever received that ring didn't realize what they had huh, Arthur?" You moved closer to rub his arm comfortingly, the brush of the silver making him shiver.

Years later and a new ring similar to the one you had owned previously now sat on your left right finger. That whole day was spent talking with numerous cups of coffee, exchanging stories and nervously complimenting each other. As time progressed you and Arthur grew closer, no script, only genuine appreciation and eventual love.

The small cabin wasn't a dream any longer, built with the blood, sweat, and tears of the both of you. It was the perfect home. Warmth radiated from the humble abode, warmth radiated from you and Arthur too. There was never really a cold winter's night when he was with you, especially not when you were wrapped up tightly in his hold or vice versa.

The slow life turned out to be a great fit for the both of you; though Arthur often found himself reflecting on the many years he spent in the gang, he never found himself craving that life again. He would much rather spend the evening with you curled up on the sofa than awaiting a stagecoach in the dead of night.

It was what had to be the coldest day of the year the two of you were huddled together on the floor in front of the fire, all snuggled up under a shared blanket. A soft kiss to your temple brought you out of the comfort induced daydream, you looked up at Arthur and smiled before pushing your head into his neck once more. Arthur took your hand in his, running his thumb over the silver band that symbolized his devotion and love for you, thank God for that ring, he thought.

There was nothing more that Arthur could ever ask for when he was warm and in love with you.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #reader insert #x reader #tooth rotting fluff #fluff

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male-fanfics-for-days · 1 year

Text

Brought to you by the future

Rdr2 x Reader

A/n: This is just a snip-it of a story idea I had bc I’ve recently gotten back into rdr2 and wanted to write something about it. If this gets a lot of attention I’ll see about writing more, for now I’m just writing this to get it out of my brain. I didn’t know if I wanted it to be Arthur x Reader (not sure about gender either but def not female) but he’s the only character here so, thats what Imma put in the tags lol also this is kinda not great, just sort of rambling, but like i said if people like it i’ll fix it up a little

Arthur Morgan has met a great many people in his life, especially in the recent year. After the failed Blackwater heist, every person he’s met after has been their own sort of strange.

Take this lady by the pond for example.

Arthur was back in the grizzlies East by O'creagh Run, the place where Hosea had taken him to hunt that big bear a while back. He was back there to not only get some drawings of the area (he hadn’t had the time before to do so), but he also just needed a break from camp.

He loved his gang dearly, something he was never ashamed to admit, but even families can get on your nerves sometimes. A few words past here and there, favors pulled in without any reciprocation or reward for his work, and overall just some bad luck in small ways (tripping over someones things thrown on the ground, taking on their chore cause they won’t do it).

Yes, Hosea and him almost died to a bear in the area but it was dead now and Arthur did sure like the scenery.

He was a little on the warm side so he decided to take a break in the water, rolling up his pant legs and wading into the pond. He splashed some water on his face, closing his eyes and breathing in the air.

Until he got scared shit-less by some lady standing at the edge of the water near his stuff.

He’s not proud of it but he did jump, surprised by the woman's sudden appearance. She smiled at him from the grass, hands behind her back as if she were simply watching nature at its finest.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” She called out to him, not losing the smile on her face.

Arthur calmed himself and nodded kindly, a little awkwardly as well.

“Sure. Suns out and heat got to me so... you know.”

“Indeed. All creatures love a good water bath in hot weather.”

Arthur tried his best to subtly take her in, but the way her eyes were unblinking and her smile ever present left him to believe that she knew he was looking, and clearly was unphased.

She was far from old and withered but clearly not in her prime. Her hair was a sun-bleached blonde placed in a messy side braid, skin a creamy color with darker freckles from cheek to cheek. Even from where he stood Arthur could see her light colored eyes, the green shown vibrantly against the blue light from the water. She wore a simple white dress and nothing else, no bodice or shoes or any accessories to be seen. Despite not wearing any shoes her feet were as clean as anything, even though she stood on the muddy shore of the pond.

Overall? She looked kind of like a woman you would find in those paintings of nature, as if she belonged there.

“Curious,” She speaks, though not directly at him. “To want this world, this life.”

“Pardon?” Arthur questions, only getting a little closer to hear the woman better, but she only continues to smile and wave him off.

“I’m only thinking aloud, sir, nothing too important to you. There is something I’d like to ask you though, if you’d be so kind as to lend your ear?”

If he was honest, the way she spoke was too proper to be just some farm girl, but she didn’t hold herself like a nobility either. Even if she were a noble, Arthur couldn’t think why a noble lady would be all the way out in the woods anyway, hardly any place for a luxurious vacation.

“Uhm... sure?”

Arthur slowly walked closer, not really knowing if he should be cautious or not of this woman, especially considering she was standing right next to his discarded gun belt.

He stops about 2 or 3 feet in front of her, his brows creasing as she giggles into her hand, her smile still wide on her face.

“My my, you really are a deer.” She sighs. “I’m no prey to you, deer, you need not fear me.”

“Right.” Arthur pronounces, unsure of where this conversation was going.

The woman turns on her heels, stepping over his things while walking in the tree line. Upon noticing Arthur not following, she turns back, a smile still on her face (Arthur wondered for a moment if her cheeks were aching at all).

“Come along then, deer. Better to speak within the trees walls.”

She then continued on into the forested area, Arthur finally walking up the bank and taking his gun belt and putting it on. As he gathered his things, and once finished, he thought for a moment if he was really about to follow some strange woman into the woods, alone, with no one around. Not even his horse stuck around, taking to grazing and feasting on the fresh grass around the area.

Now, Arthur will admit to not being an entirely smart man. The lessons and teachings he got were from outlaws who took him in, but they did teach him about survival. Was it wise to follow a stranger into the woods without any inkling of what they wanted? No, but damn did it make him curious.

He knew about what happened to the curious cat, but seeing as how he had lived this long with his level of curiosity, he wagered he would be fine. Even still, he held a hand close to his gun should he need it.

He followed her path into the woods, she was nice enough to stop a few paces and wait for him. Once she saw him she turned and walked further in, only stopping once they were encased in a sea of trees.

She turned to him, the smile on her face slowly becoming unsettling (only because of how long she had been holding it) while she spoke to him.

“Curiosity is often a trait among those who long for something. I was curious once too, you know.”

“Of what?” Arthur asks, looping his thumbs through his belt as he speaks.

“Nature, of course. Of how it works, why it worked the way it did, who made it work. Then, my curiosity was sated, and I became free.”

Arthur slowly nods, squinting his eyes and pretending to understand.

“You are curious too, sir. I can see it.” She nods, as if confirming it to someone else who wasn’t there.

“I’m curious?” Arthur echoes back.

“Of the future.” She explains. “You long to know what will become of the world in the future, what will become of you. You are not alone in this curiosity, that I can assure you. I can help you sate your curiosity, if you will allow me to.”

Still trying to make sense of all that was happening, Arthur frowns his brows her way.

“How would you do that?”

“Someone in the future calls to the past.” She closes her eyes, putting her hands together in that of a prayer. “They chant into the universe of their want, their curiosity for this life.” She opens her eyes.

“For you.”

“For me?” He echoes again, his voice now dripping in disbelief.

“For you,” She confirms. “They wish to meet you, curious of your life outside of what they can see of it. You are being watched, as we all are, by the universe that surrounds us. They want to shift into this plane of existence to escape their own, to sate their curiosity. It just so happens that you are wanting to look into the future, while they look into the past. Allow me to sate both curious creatures, to bring past to future and future to past, to allow you both to live in an equal present.”

‘Alright,’ Arthur thought to himself. ‘She's crazy.’

He couldn’t wrap his head around what she was talking about. Someone in the future wants to come to the past? Meaning the future already is happening? And to him specifically? And what about his curiosity of the future. Isn’t everyone wondering what the next day will bring? Who they will be in the years to come, what the world would look like? He could hardly be the only one wanting to know what the future entails.

She must be talking nonsense, just some lady who lived away from society for too long and went a little wacky.

“Uh, well, that’s a kind offer, really but uhm-”

“This will live with you, you know.” She cuts in. “This curiosity will eat away at you until the day the air leaves your lungs, and by the end you will have wished you had done something to cure it. I’m giving you that chance now. A little peace of mind, brought to you by the future.”

Arthur sighs, running a hand over his mouth and looking around where they were. He didn’t think she was scamming him, Arthur liked to believe he could tell if someone was trying to scam him. She seemed like she really believes what she is talking about.

Part of Arthur just told him to leave, leave this weird woman to whatever she was speaking about and continue on with his life. This part was fighting a battle with the other half of him... who was curious. Surely it couldn’t hurt to hear her out, he’s already followed her into the forest and let her speak her weird speech. He’d already fed into his curiosity by talking to her, it couldn’t be worse to hear her out.

“How would you go about... ‘sating’ my curiosity.”

“All you would have to do is answer their call.” She smiles (the smile having not left her face). “Chant back to them through the universe, and you will get your answer.”

“I just... chant.” Arthur raises a brow, getting more skeptical as all she does is nod. “And what is it that I chant?”

“Allow yourself to think of what you really, truly want from the future. Reach your mind and soul out into the universe and ask your question, chant your wish. And if you feel new words reach your mind, words of a wish to be in the here and now, welcome them in. Allow then to get here as you guide them.”

Arthur once again sighs, but he has already come so far with this woman. It was as if he were speaking to some religious person (maybe she was), and she was asking him to reach out to god. Maybe it was like that, like a prayer, not that Arthur has ever done much of that before.

“Here,” She says, kneeling on the ground and sitting on her heels in the grass, raising her hands up to him in an offering, still smiling away. “I can help you start.”

With one more look around the forest they were in, Arthur sighs and shrugs, hits his hands on his thighs before going to his knees as well, taking her hands gently.

Her hands were smooth, soft, and warm. Not a single callus on her hands from work (or crime), and it gave him pause. Maybe this woman was just naive. She said she was curious about nature, and here she was. Barefoot in the woods with nothing but a simple white dress.

Arthur really didn’t have much to believe in, not a religious sort himself, but he knew it could bring comfort to those who wanted it. Maybe, just maybe, he could get at least one question answered.

“Close your eyes,” She instructs, her own eyes closing. Arthur took a moment before doing the same.

“Now, think of yourself in an empty room. A room with no doors, no windows. Just an empty, white room. Do you see it?”

It takes Arthur a few deep breaths and some thinking, but his mind eventually goes clear and he sees himself in an empty white room, kneeling on the ground.

“Yeah?”

“Now think, think about what makes you curious about the future. What do you really want out of the future? Do you want to be there, do you want it with you, or do you simply want some answers?”

While in this white room in his head, he thinks over what she said.

What does he want from the future?

He wants his family to finally be safe, not having to run from anything anymore.

He wants the world to be easy on him, to not take so many things from him like loved ones or love itself.

He wants the world to slow down, even for just a moment, for him to take a breath while time slows.

He wants to know what will become of the land that was once wild and untamed, wants to know if it will still be free or if it will be shackled and broken in like the wild horse it was.

He wants the future to give him answers, in whatever form that wants to come in.

“Have you got it?” She asks gently.

“I... think so.” He replied just as lowly.

“Now chant your wish, your questions, your curiosities, and reach. Reach for the answer.”

Arthur repeats the wants he has, the questions he has, and continues to imagine himself in that blank room. And for a while nothing changed, he chanted and reached but no answer came. It was only when he went to give up that new words formed in his head.

“I want to be there. I don’t fear the consequences of leaving for a new reality. I want to walk the world as they do, feel what they do, see what they do. I want to be there.”

“I... think I'm hearing something.”

“The answer, guide them to your empty room, open your door for them.”

Arthur then began to imagine a door in this empty white room, a simple wooden door with just a handle, no lock. Then he thought about that door opening, and he thought back to the words in his head.

“Walk the world I live, feel the world I feel, see the world I see. Give me my answers and I will give you yours.”

Then, through the door, came the silhouette of a person. They walked slowly through the door and Arthur stood.

“there’s.. a person.” He says out loud.

“Greet them.” She replies.

So, standing in the white room of his mind he walks just as slowly towards them. The shape shifts from tall to small, skinny to heavy, long hair to short hair, white hair to black hair. Everything about them shifts between all these different forms, as if they were choosing what to look like, who to be.

Arthur and the figure now stood in front of one another, their form still blurred and shifting, but then seemed... excited. Even though their face was blurred and Arthur could barely tell who or what he was looking at, he could just tell they were smiling, a wave of happiness coming from them as they tilt their head at him.

Arthur was told to greet them, so he offered his hand to them to shake. But they did not just take his hand, instead they took both his hands in theirs. A strange feeling then passed through Arthurs hands to his arms, then from there all over his body like a full body shiver. But he wasn’t cold.

It wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling, but it didn’t hurt. It was that prickly feeling you get after laying on a limb too long, but not as intense.

It traveled through his body, then back down his arms to his hands. And once it reached his hands, a subtle light traveled up the other beings hands, arms, then over their body.

As it did so, the light revealed what the person looked like. No longer was their skin changing colors, now a single color that stayed. Their hair, their height, body, everything about them finally stopped shifting. Now Arthur could see who they truly were.

Their eyes were closed, however, so Arthur tapped their hands with his thumbs. When their eyes opened, he felt his own eyes open too.

Now, no longer in his head, he was kneeling in the same forest as before. But he wasn’t holding hands with the cream skinned woman anymore. Instead, kneeling as well and holding his hands in replacement of the woman, was the person he saw in his head, but now they were in the flesh.

They looked back at him with just as much shock as he looked at them, seemingly just as surprised at seeing Arthur in person.

They spoke.

“Holy shit... it worked!”

#rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x gn reader #rdr2 fanfic #x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x gn reader

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immajustvibehere · 1 year

Text

Treat - Valentine's Special

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader

A drabble in which Arthur gifts you some chocolate.

masterlist

A little story for my fellow Arthur lovers who either have no significant other this Valentine's or someone who says "Valentine's Day isn't special it is just to profit from love. We love each other every day of the year so we don't have to do gifts, okay?"

560 words, 5 minutes reading time

Money has been tight in the van der Linde gang. A heist gone wrong forced all of you to lie low. And you have been lying low for two weeks now. That was a problem because it made finding leads more complicated. And even if someone found something, someone else had been faster. A stagecoach? Already robbed. A homestead with a hidden treasure? Burned to the ground. It was frustrating. Especially because the food Pearson cooked became more revolting with every day. The camp had run out of salt, sugar and any sort of vegetable that could have turned the food somewhat nutritious. No potatoes or carrots, no apples or peaches for dessert. Just meat the boys had hunted and some herbs that grew around camp.

You sat under a tree, gulping down dinner when you saw Arthur approach. He had returned a couple of minutes ago, you had seen him dismount, but then had lost sight of him as he headed towards camp and you away from it, finding a place to suffer through dinner alone and have some peace.

"Y/n", Arthur greeted, coming closer.

"Hey Arthur", you smiled, putting down your half-empty plate, "how are you?"

"'m fine, you?", he replied.

"I've been better", you admitted.

"I've something to cheer ya up, I-I think", Arthur stuttered. You could tell he was excited, flustered even.

"Is it a solid lead that won't blow up in our faces?", you quipped. Your happy chuckle made Arthur gulp as he squatted down next to you.

"'m afraid not. But I did manage to get my hands on some money today", Arthur explained before he pulled a chocolate bar out of his satchel, "Here ya go."

You took it reluctantly: "For me?"

"Sure", Arthur nodded, scanning your face for a reaction.

"You shouldn't have! I...I mean the gang needs the money so despe-", you started, your cheeks blushing.

"It's okay. The camp got its share", Arthur explained calmly. You looked at him while he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. So he bought this from his share of the money?!

You looked at the chocolate, still not sure if you could accept it: "Maybe Jack-?"

"I wanted you to have it", Arthur confirmed, "I also got a new bottle of rum if ya don't mind sharin'."

With great pleasure Arthur watched how you relaxed and cracked a smile. As he sat down next to you, you peeked back to the camp. Everyone was sitting at the fire, chatting and drinking together, and yet Arthur had decided join you instead. You felt a surge of emotion when you looked at Arthur again, now seated right next to you, so that your legs touched and you could see the blush on his cheeks clearly.

"Yer okay?", Arthur chuckled when he saw you smiling like an idiot.

"Yeah", you nodded, "Thank you for this."

"'course", Arthur shrugged as if it was nothing. Though he knew that today was special, because if the liquor would do its job properly, he'd confess his feelings sooner rather than later. He figured it was time he told you. Strangely enough, he didn't fear a rejection because deep down...he was sure you reciprocated his feelings.

The moment you had accepted the chocolate from him, he watched in awe how happy he could make you and knew from that second onwards, that he would chase that feeling forever.

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction #arthur morgan x gn reader

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queer-irritator · 8 months

Text

Bloody Knuckles (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Prompt: Gender neutral reader takes a dip into Flat Iron lake after a fight to get clean. But when the lake-side breeze sends a chill to their bones, they need some help warming up.

Content warnings: Violence, assault

Takes place at Clemen’s Point, continuation of Stress Relief but not necessary to read it first.

Not proofread

You rode into the newest camp location in a sour mood. You had just been at the saloon in Rhodes. You just wanted a hot meal that was something besides Pearson’s stew, but every single person in the building was drunk as hell. It would have been fine if everyone minded their own business, but they didn’t. Right after you ordered your food some jackass was trying to put some moves on you. You told him you weren’t interested, but perhaps the alcohol or maybe he was just a sleazeball, he persisted. He crossed the line when he placed a hand on your back and called you “baby”. That’s when you punched him in the cheek and things went to shit. He tried to fight back, but he lacked the coordination to do so. Seemingly in the same instant you landed your punch, the rest of the saloon erupted in violence. So, you had to fight your way out of the saloon, getting and giving out a few more punches. You didn’t even get to eat the food you paid for, and Dutch would give you hell if he found out you started a brawl in the town he specifically told everyone to be on their best behavior in.

You hopped off your horse and headed straight to the lake. You wanted to get cleaned up before anyone saw you. The sun was starting to set, and everyone seemed to be eating in camp. You decided that no one was going to come bothering you and stripped off your clothes, but leaving your final layer of underwear on. You began to walk into the lake. The water was a little cool, but not frigid. You got out far enough so the water was up to your waist and crouched down to submerge the rest of your body, up to your shoulders.

You lifted your hands above the water and examined your red, bloody knuckles. You let out a sigh and began to rinse off the dried blood. Next, you rinsed your face, sore and exhausted from the earlier events. You leaned back and dipped your head under the water as well. The cool water felt nice on your body, especially the spots where bruises had begun to form. You don’t know how long you were in the water, taking care to rub any dirt and blood off your body. But your attention was broken when you heard a familiar voice.

“There you are. Been looking all over for ya.” Arthur called to you, standing at the edge of the shoreline.

Your back had been turned to him so you spun around and saw his figure in the distance. It was dark out now, you must have been in the water for at least an hour. You moved closer to where Arthur was standing, but stayed crouched in the water so your body was covered by the water.

“You stalking me or something?” You joked with him, the water had washed away a lot of the tension and anger you were feeling when you first got in.

Arthur chuckled lightly, “Well I went into town to catch up with you, but I just found a shitshow.”

“Ugh, don’t get me started…” you groaned, I guess hoping no one would find out about the uproar you started wasn’t very realistic. But at the same time, the face that Arthur went looking for you made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Arthur sat down on the small patch of sand that met the lake and looked at you, willing you to go on. But you didn’t want to.

“Did you tell Dutch?” You asked him cautiously. The last thing you needed was him yelling at you.

“No… You want me to?” Arthur replied teasingly.

“No! God, no.” You ran a hand down your face before standing up and walking towards Arthur.

The darkness hid a small blush that crept onto Arthur’s face when he saw your wet undergarments clinging to your skin. He turned his head to the side to avoid your figure, out of respect but also because his body seemed to betray him when you were around.

The cold air pricked at your skin, giving you goosebumps. You hadn’t brought anything to dry off with when you came down here earlier.

You sat down next to Arthur, leaving enough space so that your sopping figure wouldn’t get him wet as well.

Still avoiding eye contact with any part of your body, Arthur spoke up, “What happened back there?”

You let out a shaky sigh and brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them in an effort to warm up, “Just this jackass…” you started, “He kept trying to sweet talk me, and when that didn’t work he started gettin’ touchy.” You explained.

This caused Arthur to turn his head to you, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, “Who touched you?” he asked, voice protective and stern.

You shrugged and met Arthur’s gaze, “It’s not a big deal, I took care of it.” You glanced down at your hand.

Arthur followed your gaze down and looked at your red knuckles. He looked back up to your face and noticed a bruise on your jaw. Anger and sadness was mixing in his chest and he clenched his fist, “You tell me what he looked like an’ I’ll go kill him.” He was getting ready to stand up.

You shook your head and grabbed Arthur’s forearm to keep him seated, “No, it’s really fine. He was drunk, and put his hand on my back, nothing more… Plus I already knocked him on his ass.” You assured Arthur. But his facial expressions weren’t softening. “You don’t need to go into town and stir up more drama by killing folk. Dutch’ll have your ass.” The warmth your hand was getting from the contact with Arthur was making you realize how cold you were. You tried to suppress your teeth from chattering.

Your shivering pulled Arthur’s attention away from his rage.

“Here.” Arthur took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You pulled his jacket tighter around your body.

“Let’s go warm you up.” Arthur said as he stood up. He helped you up as well and walked with you to an empty fire pit in camp.

“You sit here, I’ll be right back.” He instructed you.

You nodded in compliance, sitting down on a log in front of the fire. The warmth radiating towards you was a welcomed feeling.

Arthur grabbed a blanket from his wagon and walked back over to you and draped it over you and sat down besides you.

“There… You warming up?” He questioned, leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his knees.

You nodded in reply and scooted as close as you could to Arthur. You extended the blanket to encompass him as well and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” You spoke softly. You know it’s not right, but seeing Arthur ready to kill a man for causing you an inconveince made your heart flutter.

Arthur cautiously wrapped his arm around your shoulder. He hoped you couldn’t feel his heart pounding in his chest. He also hoped no one could see the two of you. The constant teasing from when the two of you had fallen asleep in front of this very campfire had just begun to die down.

“Anytime, darlin’” He assured you.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x gn reader

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