Tumgik
#rdr2 arthur morgan
red-dead-simp · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
54 notes · View notes
sixgunluvr · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
18+ Readers Below!
The sound of your name on his lips , along with the weight of his body on top of yours, sent an electric shock through your entire being. It was as if his touch alone could set every nerve in your body alight. Your hands roamed up his muscular back, feeling the strength and power contained within. His skin was hot, the muscles beneath shifting and moving as he moved against you.
Your legs had already parted for him, and he slid inside you with a low moan of satisfaction.
"Fuck, you feel good," he murmured against your lips as he thrust into you deeper.
Your fingers gripped his shoulders as you welcomed him inside. The feeling of him filling you up was indescribable, and it only made you want more. His movements were slow, almost agonizingly so, as he set a leisurely pace. You could feel every inch of him as he moved against you, and the sensation was maddening.
The way he filled you up, the way your bodies moved together, it was like a dance - a dance of passion and pleasure.
His hands roamed down your body, gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. You wrapped your legs around him, digging your heels into his ass as you urged him deeper.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "So fucking wet."
You couldn't help but moan in response, the feeling of him inside you driving you wild with desire.
His thrusts became deeper, more urgent, causing you to cry out in pleasure. He captured your lips with his, silencing your moans as your tongues dueled in a dance as old as time.
Arthur pushed himself to his knees while still inside of you, his strong hands gripping your hips as he used them to take control of the tempo. Each thrust hit a spot deep inside you that made you see stars.
You were his captive audience, and the lust in his eyes was all the proof you needed. No one had ever looked at you with such hunger - like you were his last meal on earth and he was going to savor every last bite.
His hard length slides in and out of your wet warmth, making you want to cry with pleasure.
He brought your left foot up to his right shoulder, changing the angle and causing him to hit a spot that made you moan loudly.
He started to speak but your loud moan drowned out his words.
"That's it darlin, take it like a good girl," he groaned as he thrust deeper into you.
Sweat glistened off his sculpted chest as he moved in rhythm with yourself.
You gripped the sheets tightly as your climax built and built, your breathing becoming ragged and short.
"Don't stop, don't stop," you chanted, lost in pleasure.
Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing that could quench the flames was Arthur's thick cock. He grunted with effort, his hips slapping against yours as he plunged into you again and again.
The sound of skin against skin filled the tent, punctuated by your gasps and moans. You writhed beneath him, unable to contain the pleasure building up inside of you. Every thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, but you didn't want to fall over just yet. You wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible.
Craving release, your hand made its way to your clit. You rubbed in gentle circles, mimicking Arthur's movements and allowing the tension to build. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Arthur swatted your hand away, pinning it above your head as he increased his thrusting.
"That's my job," he muttered, sweat dripping from his brow.
You moaned beneath him, writhing in pleasure. His other hand snaked its way down to your clit, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub.
With every stroke of his cock, with every twist of his fingers, you found yourself sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of ecstasy.
"Come for me sweetheart," he demanded, his voice low and guttural.
With those words, the pressure building inside of you snapped, and your orgasm tore through you like a storm. You cried out, your nails digging into Arthur's chiseled biceps.
Arthur didn't let up, his thrusts becoming faster and more brutal as he chased his own release. He wrapped a hand around your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to send a thrill of fear through you. You knew that you were completely at his mercy.
And that thrilled you almost as much as the feeling of his thick cock inside of you.
With a growl, Arthur released his hold on your throat, instead wrapping it around your waist and hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around him, bouncing up and down on his cock as he pounded into you from below. Your tits bounced in time with your movements, and Arthur took full advantage of the view. He reached up and squeezed them hard, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you cried out in pleasure.
"Yes, oh God, yes!" you screamed, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
Arthur's thrusts became erratic as he felt himself nearing his own release. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, the heat spreading up his spine and into his brain.
With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside of you and let out a guttural roar as he came harder than he ever had before. His semen filled you to the brim, spilling out around his cock and down your thighs in hot streams.
He didn't pull out immediately, instead choosing to savor the moment of pure satisfaction.
He was still hard inside you, and the feeling of your walls contracting around him was indescribable. Arthur's breath came out in harsh pants as he slowly slid out of you, leaving a wet trail on your inner thighs.
You let out a sigh of contentment as you laid there, still panting from the intense orgasm that had just rocked your world. Arthur collapsed next to you on the bed, sweat dripping from his brow as he tried to catch his own breath.
"Holy shit," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "That was...
incredible," Arthur finished, turning to face you with a sated smiled.
You couldn't help but agree, still reeling from the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. Your entire body felt like it was made of jelly, and you struggled to find the words to express what you were feeling.
"Yeah, incredible doesn't even begin to cover it," you murmured, rolling onto your side to face him.
Arthur pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling your neck.
Your bodies were still slick with sweat, a testament to the passion that had just consumed you. You could feel his heart racing in time with your own, and you knew that what had just transpired between you had been nothing short of earth-shattering.
As the two of you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your love-making, the sounds of the camp outside filtered in through the tent walls. Men laughed and joked, their voices rising and falling as they swapped stories around the fire.
But inside the tent, it was a different world.
The scent of sex lingered in the air as you and Arthur lay there, your limbs tangled together. Arthur traced patterns on your skin with his fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.
For the first time in your life you were truly happy and content. You knew, in that moment, with Arthur, you had found something truly special.
As you both drifted off to sleep, Arthur pulled you closer, wrapping you in his big strong arms.
You knew then, without a doubt, that you were where you belonged.
26 notes · View notes
Text
rdr2 420 smoking with headcanons🍃 (im a little late)
Arthur: He'd be a bit goofy and touchy feely. Nothing he will say will make any sense, but he'll make it seem so deep. Would probably be all cuddly with the person he loves when he isn't brave enough to initiate it sober. He would also insist everyone come outside and watch the sunset with him. He'd also probably pick every flower in the mile radius because it "looked nice". Probably tries to yap to every small animal in sight.
Tumblr media
Dutch: First, he'd start yapping about his favorite author Evelyn Miller's work and getting all philosophical. Then. PARANOID. There is no way this man wouldn't be paranoid. He's paranoid sober. "Shit shit what was that??!" "ODRISCOLLS?!?!? COLM ODRISCOLL IS GON COME AROUND FOR MY HEAD! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE"
Tumblr media
John: Just an absolute dumbass. He wouldn't have much to say because the few braincells in his head have been taken by the za za. He probably hogged the joint. He's nonverbal in the corner. You'll find him staring at a wall deeply.
Tumblr media
Javier: He definitely gets very musical and sings a lot. The second the zaza kicks in he's reaching for his guitar, singing goofy lil songs.
Tumblr media
Charles: He probably starts actually talking about deep things. He talks about wanting peace and wanting to stop the injustices he sees in the world. Also probably the only one who goes with Arthur to watch the sunset.
Tumblr media
Hosea: He probably also gets very deep. He's also trying to calm his husband Dutch down for most of the time, reassuring him that nobody's coming for him.
Tumblr media
23 notes · View notes
pov Pearson threw the wrong fucking mushrooms into the stew
Sadie: You know... I respect you Pearson.
Pearson: What the fuck-
Sadie: Truly... truly... I love you all-
Arthur: I'm seeing fucking colours help me
20 notes · View notes
luskbook · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
stand unshaken
1K notes · View notes
strrwbrrryjam · 3 months
Text
gamerbros: "arthurs this big tough alpha man, the man who'll shoot you for even coming near him, the man who homophobic, racist and sexist"
arthur: *gently picks flowers*
*baby talks all horse + dogs + cats*
*says quack quack when a duck is mentioned*
*sketches everything he comes across*
*journals*
*writes poetry*
*comforts people in distress*
*goes out of his way to help strangers, no matter how long it takes to help them*
*volunteers to escort and protect a females suffrage march*
*is a theater kid*
*is emotionally vulnerable*
*talks about his feelings with the women of the camp*
*cares for children*
*gets flustered when the women he loves talk to him*
*writes A❤️M in his journal*
*compliments his fellow gang members, even the men*
*is respectful to everyone, no matter their race, gender, orientation*
and more!
2K notes · View notes
dutchysasscheek · 3 months
Text
Guys I recreated the meme on accident 💀
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
grugruel · 2 months
Text
Big Iron
Pairings:
bounty hunter!Arthur Morgan x outlaw!f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: She's escaped a robbery, and bounty hunters have been sent out after her. They'd made no problem so far– that said, the notorious Arthur Morgan set upon her trail.
Word count: 5.7k
Warnings: Arthur Morgan, pinv sex, rough sex, soft sex ish, lap/bulge-riding, praise, petnames (girl, sweetheart, ma'am), creampie, overstimulation.
AN: 3rd person pov, trying it out. Not yet proofread!
Tumblr media
The campfire blazed in the night, casting a warm glow over the small, temporary hideout as smouldering flakes of ash rose in swirls above her.
Her face lit up, the sizzling embers of spent coal entrancing her.
The soaring fires of a bright building shouldered It's way into her mind, stealing space from any other thoughts.
The trees around her rustled. She leaned back against the wall of the overhanging cliff. Sliding down into a sitting position and slanting her head in ponder, slipping deeper into the memory.
Money was all she had needed. But the simple, well practiced heist escalated. Attempted arson had suddenly been added to her list of offences, robbery another one among them. Which she could admit to, and proudly so.
But the fire. . . Now the fire, was not her fault.
And not only was the law after her, but they'd sent out money hungry, bounty hunters aswell. She'd already tied two of them down yesterday, big brutish men they were. All muscle and no brains. Still, they proved quite the nuisances, but wouldn't be a problem anymore. . .
. . .Unless they died of starvation, and then she would indeed be guilty of murder. Lovely! She gritted her teeth at the memory, rolling her eyes interanally.
But she doubted it, seeing as they were curently tied to the fence of the sheriff's office.
Which left only one real threat.
One man, one singular man; a notorious outlaw himself. He was the sheriff's most resent hire. Big, deadly, tall and muscled. From long days of hard work killing and robbing she imagined.
She'd actually seen him in person once, and she could admit, he looked dangerous, and devilishly handsome. The rumors had been right about that, she was only hoping that his volatile reputation along with the Van Der Lind gang's would turn out to be folly.
She shivered at the thought, shaking her to the very bones. If it were from the thought of him or the cool of the night, she did not know. She closed her arms around herself, stroking them for warmth as she pushed the unpleasant thoughts away, her gaze snapping to the treeline beyond. She was back to reality, and suddenly accutely aware of the black darkness that lingered between its stems, but her vision was good and she was quite hidden after all. No one would be sneaking up on her–
'Ma'am.'
From the shadows, a man appeared at the edge of the campfires domain, vaguely illuminated by its warmth. Broad and tall in frame, the deep night clung to his back. His sudden prescence was the only evidence of his arrival, he'd made no sound nor been seen before he'd needed to be.
Her eyes snapped in his direction, widening with recognition, the eerie sense divulged itself to her body. Like poison, it spread quickly, crawling into every blood vessel and turning them ice-cold along its journey.
'Mister' she greeted, doing her damndest to stay calm.
His hat covered his eyes, but the smile he gave her was unmistakable. 'Theres quite the bounty on you girl.' The drawl of his accent sunk into her skin like the warmth from the fire.
'There's no doubtin' that,' she nodded in admittal, slowly moving away from him, 'Although im only worth half of it, I assure you.'
She sat still, eyes meeting his as they poked out beneath his hat. He tilted his head to face hers, regarding her silently. Eyes flickering over her, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, and how her blouse revealed the hills of her chest. '. . . 'S that so?. . .' He took a step closer, the rope in his hands now excruciatingly evident to her.
She got to her feet in one swift motion, hesitantly gesturing for him to stay calm. 'Mister, I'm not a murderer. Crimes I did not commit have been written in my name. The sheriff framed me!' She took a few steps to the left, placing the fire between them.
'I belive ya' ma'am.' His hands pulled on the lasso, adjusting its length. Gripping it roughly from time to time, trigger fingers readying themselves for any sudden movement. 'But the law can be a crooked thing sometimes.' His eyes narrowed in on her, then shrugged nonchalantly. 'But a bounty 's still a bounty girl.'
The birds sang above them, and the world blurred around her, her knees suddenly week. And unfortunately for her, he would be there to catch her when she fell. In a sense too literal for her liking.
'And I can say the same for myself ma'am, I'm a bad man. . .' His voice imposed, yet, the gravely tone vibrated perfectly well in her ears.
Gulping her nervousity, she assessed her options. . . And then ran.
Trees rushed past in peripheral whirls as she made her way along the cliff wall. Rope flexed behind her, threads wringing against eachother as it was swung and thrown with a woosh.
The air caressed her cheeks, pulling tears from her eyes and whistling in her ears. She gave it all she had, but it wasn't enough to stop the lasso from capturing her with deadly accuracy. It fell over her shoulders and tightened around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.
The rope pulled taunt– and the world stopped moving for a short second, with a yank, her body whipped forward and her feet was swept from under her– then just as sudden, it sped up again.
As a tree cut down for its timber, she fell. The ground rushing up to greet her face as she stumbled to the ground with a hard thud. She panted, smelling the earth and feeling the wet grass tickle her face as she struggled against her entanglement; wriggling and thrashing like a stranded fish.
Well-used leather chaps groaned behind her as he stalked closer, winding the rope up as he did. Its sound of hot friction against fabric made her stumache churn. She rolled onto her back to get a better layout of the situation. And there he stood. Just by her feet, looming over her. With his back to the fire it cast a glow around him, framing the big man as he filled her sight. Fear and desire fought for the helm, conflicting her mind terribly.
He crouched down, bending over her as he circled the rope around her, securing his bounty tightly. He grabbed the knot and pulled her up diagonally, pulling her flush against his body so he could level her head with his. '. . .And I've done bad things.' He whispered, lips brushing against her ear. A dull pulse appeared where there ought to be no pulse. She screwed her eyes shut, lust for this man was the last thing she should be feeling. But oh. . . How his breath raised goosebumps, having it spread over her skin like wildfire.
He straightened his legs and stood back, taking her with him while keeping her close to his chest.
Her breath fanned over his lips as they stood a mere inch apart, one bound and the other free. A smirk made its way onto his lips, his hands sliding along the tied rope until they were at her waist, and in one strong motion threw her over his shoulder.
She yelped, 'You brute!' kicking wildy in hopes of getting free. But one of his arms circled around her legs and gripped the back of her thigh to keep them still, while he laid the other on the small of her back to stop her from falling. 'You keep your hands to yourself Mister!' She shouted, struggling against his bullish strength.
'Yes, ma'am.' He assured as he began walking, not paying her futile thrashing much mind.
She cleared her throat and huffed, expecting more of a reaction. She didn't quite know what to do in this situation, she hadnt planned this far ahead. She didn't think she'd ever be properly cought. 'Well, good.' She said curtly, calming herself. Being a nuisance and making the situation worse would be a bad idea, and she'd not made any progress nonetheless, his grip was solid steel. She'd have to settle on feeling his strong back beneath her instead and revel in the feeling of his hand on her thigh.
He stomped out the campfire before moving to where he'd hidden his horse, 'Sittin' or layin'?' He asked, being nice enough to hand her to options of sharing his saddle or to be stored over his horses ass.
She huffed, 'What a gentleman, take a guess Mister.' She muttered.
He nodded, 'Sittin' with me it is.' his hands moved to her waist, easily transfering her from his shoulder to the saddle. She scoffed for the sake of scoffing, eyes narrowing as she looked down on him, and if it had the power to, her look would certainly have killed him. 'Quite presumtions of you.'
With a low chuckle and a shake of his head, he gripped the saddle before climbing on. Placing his hands on either side of it, on hand on the pommel and the other on the cantel. Which just so happened to be between her thighs, and just behind her ass. Almost grazing her on both sides as he braced himself against it, eyes meeting hers with a satisfied smirk, 'Much more attitude from ya' girl and I'll have to take meassures.'
Shock sprung itself on her, feeling dizzy all over again. The knuckle of his thumb was an inch away from brushing against her cunt. Her eyes widened at the fact, and the implications his words carried. Her loins burned, it took everything in her power to stop from rocking her hips forward. But she simply cleared her throat and neutralised her expression, 'Id like to see you try.' And faced away from him, turning her nose upward.
He climbed onto the horse, placing himself close intil her and leaned over her shoulder. 'I will if you let me ma'am.' He whispered in her ear, and then spurred his horse. Shivers shook her at that, her entire body vibrating with a dull sense of need.
They rode silently for a long while, and she wanted to sass him, she wanted it terribly. But was both afraid and hoping he'd take action, just as he'd stated. The miles wound on, oh it felt never ending. Especially with the man behind her, rutting his hips against her with every step of the horse. He was a blessing against the cold, but pure torture as his heat soaked into all the wrong spots of her body.
But finally, it came time to rest. They'd ridden nonstop from the morning of her capture to the next night. If that werent enough, a heatwave had been raging the entirety of the day aswell, and the setting of the sun had barely made a difference.
He set her on the ground, binding her feet and hands before starting on the camp. Making quick work of the fire and tent as she sat down on a rock, silently watching the man work, and very much enjoying the show.
His skin was slick with sweat, much like herself. The cool light of the moon and the warmth of the fire made him glisten in every sense of the word, and oh. . . the way he toiled away.
He had removed his vest and chaps as he got to work, then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt which now stuck to his skin. A nuisance for him to be sure, but a dream for her, she could practically see the muscles of his chest rippling.
A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, tickling her skin and drawing focus away from the view. Her eyes widened as she realised how she stared at the stranger and shook her head, attempting to clear it.
God, focus. She needed to hatch a plan. Running would do her no good, he would be too fast. He wouldn't accept bribes either, and was very hard to persuade. No attempts had been succesful so far, he didnt even want the money she'd stashed away.
At that thought, unavoidably, abashedly her eyes snapped to him as he pulled his shirt off and reached for a new one in his saddlebag. She clenched her jaw to keep it from falling, his strong chest was adorned by hair, trailing down his abdomen and disappearing under. . . The waist of his pants. In that moment, she wanted nothing else then to see where that trail ended. She wanted to trace her fingers along it, or perhaps lick it, all the way down. . .
Her jaw began aching, she fought herself to tear her eyes away from him. Managing to direct her gaze at the ground instead, waiting for him to put a fresh shirt on.
After a short while, she dared to look up again. He'd pulled a log to opposite side of the fire and sat down, a cigarette placed between hid lips and was breathing in a long drag of it. Tilting his head back, he released the cloud of smoke with a sigh.
Her eyes followed his movements intently, studying them as she hoped that perhaps he'd notice her and offer one–
'Want one girl?' He nodded toward her, gesturing with the match box.
'I do, yes.' She answered expectantly, holding her hands out for him to untie.
But to her surprise, he scoffed, then stod and walked around the fire. He crouched on one knee infront of her, his arm bracing against the other. 'You'll have to do better than that.' He said, only a feets distance between them. Then picked the cigarette from his lips and offered it to her, holding it an inch from her mouth. She hesitated, observing him with disdain, 'Go on.' He nodded. But reluctant to follow his orders, she met his eyes, making sure he knew how unhappy she was about it, and then leaned in despite herself. Closing her lips around the cigarette, she sucked the toxic smoke smoke into her lungs like it were air, keeping her eyes locked on his. She swore something glint in his eyes as he studied her pouting lips. A plan struck her suddenly, but–
'Good girl.' He hummed.
Again, shock gripped her. The praise rose right to her head, sending waves of heat cascading through her body. Then she coughed, the smoke settling wrong in her airways. She pulled back, letting him retrieve his cigarette as she regained her composure. 'You alright there sweetheart?' He asked with a grin, and patted her back before replacing the cig between his lips.
'Fine.' She hissed, still reeling from. . . Everything. 'You got anything stronger? Whiskey, bourbon?'
He nodded, and pulled out and old bottle of bourbon from his bag, 'Could you?' She held her hands out to him again.
He studied her, stroking his stubbled jaw in thought. 'Got somethin' for me then?'
Insinuations led her down a path of all kinds of possibilities, but she instead opted for a simple, 'Please?' Instead, attempting it cheapishly.
His hands slipped down to his hip, pulling the knife from its hilt, 'Thats more like it.' He mumbeled with his cigarette clad lips.
And cut the rope around her hands and feet, stopping at the rope around her waist and met her eyes. 'Try anythin'. . .' He raised his eyebrows, and lowered his voice to a mocking tone '. . . run, hurt me' his eyes narrow as a corner of his lip tugs. 'And there'll be a steep price to be payed.'
Swallowing, she nodded enthusiastically, 'I just wan't a sliver of freedom before im locked up, you could understand that right?'
He nodded, 'S'pose so. . .' And began cutting, '. . . difference is girl' the rope snapped and slid down her sides, 'I'd never get caught.' He gathered the rope from her sides, his fingers accidentally brushing against her hips.
Her breath hitched, and her skin tingled desperatley for more of him as fluttering wingbeats set of in her stumache. Such a small thing, turning into such a big reaction.
He cleared his throat, handing her the bottle as he threw the rope into the fire. He sat down on another log, not as far away form her this time. Leaned back against the tree behind it and spread his legs wide. His bulge was enough to make her salivate, 'It's not easy you know, for a woman like me, when there's men like you Mr Morgan.'
Arthur quriked an eyebrow in question, 'You know me?'
'I know of you.' She corrected, taking a big swig of the fluid, then handed it back to him for him to do the same.
He nodded silently, a sigh escaping under his breath. 'All bad I guess.' He took another swallow, not to bothered by her statement. Probably used to hearing it by now.
She shook her head, taking the bottle and another gulp. 'Many of the ladies say you're handsome.'
At this he looked up at her, chuckling. 'Well, I don't know 'bout that.'
'It's true. . .' another sip, followed by a hiccup. 'They say you can be quite the gentleman too.'
His eyes bore into hers, his tone serious but expression joking as he humours her. 'Depends on the lady.' He reaches for the bottle, and she stands up to give it to him. Walking closer, she hands it over, fingers brushing against eachother in the motion.
His eyes meet hers, and she brushes her hand under his chin, 'You know what else they say Mr Morgan?'
'No, what do they say about me sweetheart?' A smirk tugged at his lip, the liquor starting to affect the both of them.
'That you're good in bed. . .' She steps between his thighs, her hand falling from his chin to his neck, scratching at the nape gently.
He hums appreciatively, then takes another sip of the bourbon and sets the bottle aside. His hands reach for her, coming to a rest on either side of her thighs, pulling her closer to him and squeezing them at his pleasure. 'They're only rumours girl.' He tilts his head backward against tree to get a better look at her, eyes fastening on her lips.
With her other hand, she hikes her skirt up, revealing her thighs as she step over his legs, one at a time, slowly sinking down onto his lap as his hands automatically slide to her hips.
She placed herself on top of his bulge, and he grunted from the pressure. The pulse within her began strumming at her nerves, turning them jittery.
'I doubt it Mr Morgan.' She whispered, 'Women do not lie to eachother of such things.' his bulge beneath her grew harder, luring a hidden smile from her, but she wills it from her lips so that it only reaches her eyes. 'They say you're rough, or gentle. Dependin' on your mood.' As she says that, she swears she detects the faintest red creep up his cheeks. Arthur Morgan. . . Blushing? Now, she couldnt help herself as the smile reaches her lips. Hes quite endearing.
The man cleared his throat, acting as if it had never happened. 'That's told of me in everythin' I do girl.' He smirks, the grip on her hips hardening, knuckles turning white.
'But you're always sweet 'n caring.' She continues, her own words were building the lust within her, making the pulse ever stronger. It was becoming hard to focus. She needed to release some of the pressure building inside her. Evaluating the consequences, she rocked her hips downward. Grinding into his bulge.
Simultaneously, she whimpered and he hissed. She leaned against him, her lips brushing against his ear as she nuzzles his cheek. 'Apparently, It's also true what they say 'bout ridin' cowboys–'
'Girl.' He interrupted with a chuckle, 'I know what you're doin'.' He breathes, 'Seducin' me.' With the tight grip on her hips, he helps rock her hips against him, the rough fabric of his pants grinding against her core.
With a gasp, one of her hands shoots out to burry itself in his hair. Then she leans into him, the other hand grabbing his shirt for support as she rests her head against his shoulder. He nuzzles his cheek against hers, and mutters, 'You use your sweet talkin', then get me drunk 'n run off, that your plan girl?'
Her eyebrows furrow, hips grinding down harder, her ruts becoming more frantic, needy. She screws her eyes shut from the copious amounts of pleasure washing over her. All she can do to answer him is hum in admittal as shes straining hard to even stay contious.
He chuckles. 'Easy girl. . .' His voice commanding, low and raspy as he slows her hips, but keeps the pace hard. 'Use your words.' He orders, loving the way shes falling apart for him.
She nods hastily, hoping it would satisfy his request. But he pinches her hip through the fabric of her skirt, and her eyebrows furrow in pain, however not having the energy to even make a sound. Her thoughts were a blur, she couldn't tell what to keep secret anymore, 'Yes– yes. . .' She sighs, the coil inside her tightening impossibly hard.
'Mmh, thought so.' He breathed, the words curt on his tongue, but lust evident in his voice. His hands leave her hips, one arm snaking around her waist, his hand placing itself at the small of her back to push her against him.
Then he stands, drawing a whine from her. She did not quite understand what was going on as the loss of movement gradually undid all the progress she'd made. 'Mr Morgan?' She inquires, hesitantly wrapping her legs around his hips.
He walks them to the tent, 'Arthur.' He corrects, carrying her with ease. He pushes the flap to the side and kneels, bending over her as he lays her on the ground.
'Arthur.' She smiles, worry seeping out as she realised he was making them more comfortable.
His knees slide apart, hooking her legs upon them as they spread. Her hands shoot up, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, close enough for his lips to hover over hers. Their eyes meet, 'Please. . .' She whimpers, one hand sliding downward. '. . .Please.' She says again, fingertips trailing down his abdomen, suddenly grabbing hold of his bulge with a firm hand, his member rock hard. 'Outlaw or gentleman?' She asked, smiling a wicked smile.
He grunts, lips brushing over hers. 'Neither.' And grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away from his crotch, catching the other in the motion. His free hand reached over her head, and the hauntingly familiar groaning of strong rope sounded above her. She shook her head, 'Arthur, please. . .' Panic moved into her voice, the repeated words carrying a completley different meaning this time.
He held both wrists with one hand and tied them together with the other, the rope burning her skin in the motion.
She cried out unhappily.
But he chuckles, in a matter of factly kind of way. Stroking the burn gently as ge corrects her, 'Should've behaved.' And when done, he sits back. Observing her as she lies tied up, legs spread infront of her, circled around his hips. Much to his dismay, he wouldn't be enjoying the sight as much as he wanted to. 'It's late.' He grunts curtly, then stands and walks toward the flap.
'Arthur. . .' She pleads, trying one last time.
He turns his head just enough to see her in his peripheral, 'Get some sleep, you got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.' He flashes his eyebrows smugly, 'Night, sweetheart.' Then exits the tent without another word.
She huffed, unbelivable. Nuzzling herself into the bedroll.
Sweetheart. . . But how could she be annoyed when he calls her such a thing. She dreamed herself away, with imagines of a shirtless Arthur Morgan and the feeling of him inside her. But she'd not given up, make no mistake, he would fall asleep and she would leave. . .
The night carried on and the temperature finally began dropping, a shiver shook her pleasantly. It was a welcome change. Her body strained as she raised her neck to get a look of the outside. Through the flap she saw Arthur, sitting, snoring, hat covering his face as he leaned back against the tree he'd previously been sitting on.
Now, she needed to get rid of her restraints. Rolling over, she crawled toward the opening, her eyes never leaving Mr Morgans sheathed knife.
The fire had been reduced to embers at this point. Crackling and sizzling lowly as the cool moisture in the air riddled the grass with dewdrops, dampening her hands and skirt as she approached her goal. She sat on her knees, then moved to grab the knife carefully, gnelty sliding it out. The sound of it unlatching nearly had her yelp.
No movement in Arthur.
Shallow breaths, she exhales. Relief flooding through her begoee she began working the knife against her entangled wrists with her fingertips. Carefully regarding the vicious man for any signs of waking. But her thoughts slid, perhaps, if he caught her, he would be kind. Or would he be angry? She could truly not decide werther which reaction she'd most prefer–
The rope snapped, and exhilaration filled her. Gaze snapping between her free hands and the hunter, imagining her prospects. She stood quietly, holding her skirt tightly around her to keep the fabrics from rustling. Slowly, knife still in hand, she backed away. On careful tiptoed steps she faded into the night, the fire dwindling in the distance.
The darkness made it hard for her to see much of anything, at its height the tree-crowns silhouette were visible against the blue summer sky. Branches moved, leaves swished in the gentle wind. She grew paranoid, head snapping in every direction, reacting to every little noise around–
A branch broke behind her, she jumped, turning around so fast she almost ripped– a Buck. She froze, a god damned buck? She had expected it ro be Arthur, but she seemed to have ogtten the better of him. The animal looked at her, ears twitching as it chewed on grass– suddenly hopping away. She sighed and turned back.
Only to collide with something hard. Her thoughts raced, she knew, she knew. She looked up, eyes tracing along his body until they met his, half hidden under his hat. Reflexes prepared her to run, but before she had as much as taken a step back, a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him. Again, she thumped into his strong chest. Held against him with the familiar iron grip, she fought, as usual; but to no avail, as usual. He snaked an arm around her waist to hinder her from breaking free, yet she kicked and punched violently with her free limbs. But it made no dent in the man. He couldn't even spare her a reaction as he half carried, half dragged her back into the low light of the burnt out fire. He spun her around and pushed her up against the cliff wall, grabbing the wrist closest to him and pinning it above her head. 'I warned you, girl.' He snarled, the look in his eyes doing just as good a of job pinning her to the wall as his hands. He reaches for the second–
When something sharp digs into the soft flesh of his throat, he froze. His chest was the only thing moving between the two of them, heaving breaths of annoyance.
'Thrid times the charm.' She smirked.
He raised his eyebrows and chuckled, 'That so?' His voice mocking, and before she could comprehend what had happened, he'd captured both wrists with one hand and slammed them above her head and into the wall. And the knife had appeared in his free hand, she noticed this because it was now held against her own throat. 'Repeat that for me girl.'
Her lips struck a thin line as she attempted a neutral expression, although fuming on the inside. She shrugged her shoulders, 'No.' Was all she said, but stubborn in tone.
He nodded, looking her up and down, studying the buttons on her blouse. 'Ought to teach you a lesson sweetheart.'
She cleared her throat, deciding that to act nonchalant was her best option. 'Yeah? What ya' gunna do, huh? Ravage me?' She asked half joking, but still hoping there'd be some truth to it.
At this, the corner of his mouth turned up, a wicked grin developing on his lips. 'I just might.' He breathed, tracing the tip of the knife downward, along her collarbone and then along the front of her blouse, coming to a stop at the first button. She gulped, feeling the knife poke through the thin fabric against her chest, making goosebumps run amock in reaction and the pulse reheating in her core. He leaned forward, pushing his body against hers until there was no room left between them, his head hovering just above the crook of her neck. 'May I do with you as I please?'
This was it, the sweet balance between a hardened outlaw and a tender gentleman. 'Yes– yes, Arthur please.' Her voice near a cry, it took everything in her to control her tone–
Her blouse ripped, from top to bottom he cut it open, and she wasn't wearing a brasier. Her chest laid bare before him, and he groaned happily at the sight.
With her go-ahead he wasted no time, he let go of her hands and cut her skirt too. Cutting a slit as far as he reached with the knife then threw it to the side, and the tore the rest. She gasped, every nerve in her body on edge. In an instant, his lips were upon hers. Hungry, hungry lips devouvered her as hands roamed her body, groping and grabbing wherever they got purchase. Her own hands greedily searching for a steady hold in his hair, she grabbed a fistful and pulled gently. He moaned at the feeling, such a beautiful sound. His hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them, then pushed the remains of her blouse off of her shoulders.
Except for her undergarments, she stood completley exposed for him. She could practically feel him salivating when he cupped her clothed mound, and finding her clit with expertise and rub it through the fabric.
She tore herself free from his kisses, she had to breathe. A deep gasp brought oxygen to ger lungs once again, allowing her to whimperand moan in equal measure as he worked her clit. The pressure made her knees week, she wriggled, attempting to rut against his hand. But she was too unsteady to make progress. Noticing her difficulties, his other hand slid behind her back and held her steady. Allowing her to chase her pleasure. And left with no lips to kiss, he latched onto her neck instead, to suck at her sweet spot.
She hummed appreciatively, unable to keep a big smile from her lips as pulses of pleasure washed through her. She slid her hands from his hair and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers along his strong chest and abdomen, gingerly feeling all of him as her hands worked themselves lower. Finally unbuttoning his pants. She did no longer have to wonder were his happy trail dissapeared too, she bit her lip. He was huge. She stuck her hand into his pants and stroked him eagerly. 'Need ya' Arthur, please.' She panted.
He let out a strained grunt against her shoulder, and his hand left her clit. She whined, but didn't have to stay displeased for long.
Both his hands slid down her sides, and she tried to breathe steadily, but it proved hard. The feeling of his calloused hands on her skin was too heavenly. Suddenly, he lifted her. Pinning her against the cliff wall with his arms and the weight of his body, allowing her to wrap her arms and legs around him. She hadn't known, but he had wordlessly obided her request. He pulled her garments to the side, and line himself up with her entrance. 'Sure about this?' He asked, a final reassurance.
'Yes.' She purred, no hesitation in her answer.
And so he pushed inside her, the sheer size of him was making her want to scream–
'Good girl.' He moaned, and directed his eyes to hers. She repressed a moan, biting her lip hard to hinder it as heat flashed through her. It was two words, yet she could've come undone from them alone, when said by him alone.
He gazed upon her softly, one of his hands left her thigh to gently stroke a strand of hair from her face. She smiled, and so did he. He was just giving her time to adjust, but her heart soared at the simple gesture.
God how could she feel so strongly for a stranger?
Her hands retangled in his hair as Arthur slid out of her, she furrowed her brows– but in a rough, quick thrust. He shoved himself back inside of her, filling her to the brim. He set a cruelly pleasurable, unrelenting pace. Any trace of gentleness gone.
She felt the pressure tightening within her, building snd building until she was on the verge of coming once again. Her hands sunk to his back, clawing and scratching because she did not know what else to do, he was too much, too good, too big. He overstimulated her with his mere prescence. And he knew when her walls tightened around him, adding extra pressure onto his already throbbing member. 'You close girl?' He grunted, his gruff voice breathed against her ear and his hand squeezing her thigh roughly beneath her. God it was sublime.
'Mhm. . . So- close.' She murmurs, her words coming out jagged as her body rocks with Arthurs thrusts. Pushed closer to her release with each thrust, once again, she shut her eyes and spots speckled her eyelids. Breathing turns frantic, she could no longer tell who was who as they mixed, moans and curses spilling from them both.
With a flash of pleasure, searing hot it soured through her, making her whimper uncontrollably. His thrusts slow, holding her securely, caressing her face and kissing her lips as she rides out her high. 'You're alright girl.' He breathes reassuringly, 'Well done Sweetheart.'
Overstimulated tears roll from her eyes, 'Oh Arthur, you sweet, sweet man.' She sighs happily, and he comes a mere second later. His seed filling her and oozing out.
They'd clean themselves tomorrow, since tiredness plagued them currently. He backed away from the wall and she clung to him, desperatley not wanting to part with him.
He carried her back to the tent, this time not bothering to tie her up as they laid down facing eachother. Arthur, grabbed her chin between his index and forefinger. Studying her thuroughly before they finally succumbed to sleep. She could escape if she wanted to, he wouldn't stop her this time. Her plan had worked, they both knew it. But they felt something else too, and they both knew it.
Hooded eyes blinked, blushing at Arthurs intent eyes and searching gaze. Her eyelids weighed down by exhaustion, It'd been a long few days, and before she knew it–
The light dawns, rays of dusty sunlight shone through the flap of their tent as the morning wakes. Bringing warmer tempratures and calm birdsong.
He opens his eyes, and immediately meet hers. She'd just been admiring him. 'Surprised?' She asked, biting her lip and stopping herself from reaching out to touch him.
He smiles, 'Naw, I was hopin' I'd wake up to you girl.'
772 notes · View notes
ranna-alga · 25 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Do the Evolution" - Pearl Jam
588 notes · View notes
kapilesque · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Bleh :p
965 notes · View notes
puddledfishhh · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
THE SIBLINGS EVER
689 notes · View notes
sixgunluvr · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
New gif for you! 😘🥰💕
29 notes · View notes
random-gay-artist03 · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
some red dead 2 inspired art.
2K notes · View notes
strawberrymilkcart · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
dutch and hosea's kids if it was modern day and not 1899
arthur and john still bicker as always :3
552 notes · View notes
enders-redemption · 2 months
Text
rdr fan culture is playing the game, looking at so many posts, and reading so much fanfiction that arthur’s dialect unironically starts slipping into your every day vernacular
493 notes · View notes
strrwbrrryjam · 24 days
Text
so i know we have arthur travelling back in time to the beginning of the game, but i haven't seen or at all seen john coming back from dying in rdr to the beginning of rdr2, freshly coming off a wolf attack, stuck in the grizzlies.
i honestly think it'll be so interesting to see, especially since for arthur there's a lot of mystery, because dying arthur doesn't know what happens after the events of rdr2, while john does and he knows the fates of each and every member that ended up betraying them
we have grizzled 38-year-old john who is very much in love with his wife and has a good relationship with his son, who has been suppressing the shit out of his grief going back into the body of 26-year-old john in a tumultuous relationship with abigail, a non-existent relationship with his son, seeing his brother who has been dead for so many years staring down at him, mocking him, and having to return to a gang filled with people he's either killed/had killed or saw die.
the potential is insane, i love this idea so much.
520 notes · View notes