#redemption drabble
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Arthur Morgan Teaches You How to Ride Him
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dick riding, guidance, encouragement, inexperience, age-gap
A/N: Can we all agree that he is the hottest cowboy dilf?
"You wanna sit on there nice and slow sweetheart. Know you're eager for it but don't hurt yourself now." That was funny coming from the man who was just in a bar fight. You can still see the bruising on his knuckles and see where his lip was split. "Did seeing me fight do it for you? So wet down there, I'm thinking it just might've."
"It's not the fight I promise you." Maybe a little but more of it was Arthur's charm and boldness. And how delicately he treated you. Sure you knew he could give you a rough pounding, enough to potentially break the bed but he was set on teaching you something new today.
Today was a riding lesson. Dick riding to be exact.
You tried to take him in right away, which proved a little painful even with how slick you were. You balanced yourself on your knees above his hips, your pussy touching the red tip of his cock, hands on his chest, feeling the chest hair and the scars from knives and bullets. This sounded much easier then it proved to be when he suggested it.
"I might not be as young as I used to be but I'll still throw my fists for a pretty young lady's honor." Arthur wanted to protect you as much as he wanted to corrupt your mind with all sorts of sinful ideas, such as meeting him night after night, sneaking out just to fuck him, "Besides I reckon none of those wannabe tough guys back there could teach you half the things I know. Ain't that right baby?" His hands pushed you down with the right amount that you felt the pressure, but not enough to bruise as the cockhead pushed just past your entrance. "There we go, right where my cock should be. Now I want you to start rolling your hips downwards, slowly, until you're able to fit the whole thing inside there."
Your hips started moving, breath hitching with every inch of his cock that you managed to take. You've taken it plenty of times in the past but you were never the one on top, and even with this newfound control you had over the movements you thought it better to listen to Arthur's advice then take him all at once. Instead on the feeling of lust you focused on how his cock stretched you open more and more, causing you to tighten and release around him, looking at his smile which grew wider and wider until settling on a permanent grin when you took his whole length.
"Atta girl." With his feet firmly planted on the bed Arthur folded his arms behind his head to enjoy himself to the fullest. "Gotta say I'm real comfy like this."
"Yeah? Am I making you feel good, Arthur?" A big, satisfied smile split across your face. Your hips were still touching him when you tried wiggling around a bit, feeling every inch of his twitching cock, perfectly angled to hit your deepest spots, "Can you tell how good you make me feel too?"
"I'd be worried if I didn't. You're gonna need to go up slowly, repeat the sliding until it goes in smoothly for you, then you can start to pick up the pace. Be sure to keep your balance too, because sometimes," He pushed his hips upwards, making you moan his name along with a deep whimper, "you might get yourself a surprise or two."
Nodding you let his body settle back down and you on top of him again, filled with his cock and the new found confidence that you could make him feel just as good as he made you feel.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan fanfiction#arthur morgan smut#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 smut#rdr2 x female reader#arthur morgan x female reader#red dead redemption x female reader#smut drabble#smutember 2023#x female reader
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My eyes only | Arthur Morgan / Reader
Word count : 500+ (just a little guy)
Summary : Arthur thinks you look like a work of art
Warnings/tags : Fluff, allusions to smut, nakedness, Arthur being in love, set in Shady Bell.
“You look like one of them paintings.” Arthur said lying next to you. Supporting himself on his arm as he sat up, his blanket hanging low on his hips. The sight offers you the slightest peek at the low v of his pelvis. His arm unconsciously flexed, the muscles of his bicep pulled tight.
“What do you mean?” You chuckled, rolling over to face him. Heat poured off your skin, your hair sticking to the back of your neck as you come down from your high. The only thing covering your nakedness was a flimsy sheet, pulled lazily over your body by Arthur.
“You know, those portraits.” He said, a wicked grin on his face, “The ones that French feller made in Saint Denis.”
“Arthur!” You laughed, hitting him on the chest, a satisfying slap echoing through the room.
“What?” He laughed, deep and heartily. His shoulder shook as he grinned.
“You’re awful.” You said, shaking your head, trying to hide your smile.
“You’re laughin’.”
“Am not!” You chuckled looking up at the rotted ceiling. He rolled over, wrapping his hand around your bare waist. Digging his fingers into the soft skin of your side, you squirmed laughing under him. “Stop! Stop!” You cried, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. The setting sun peeking through the window, illuminating Arthur’s backside like a halo. Although he was anything but an angel at the moment. “I’m gonna pee!” You laughed, your hands planted on his chest as you tried to shove the ox of a man off of you.
“Alright, alright.” He relented, collapsing on top of you. You let out a loud ‘omph’ as he pushed all the air out of your lungs. You rolled your eyes, your fingers drawing mindless patterns along his freckled back.
He picked up his head, smirking up at you. “I’m serious, ya know?” He said softly, his finger trailing down your cheek. The hands of a killer, hands that have beaten and broken the strongest of men. Now lay featherlight touches along your face. “You’re beautiful.” He said, a soft blush covering his cheeks, the scars on his nose and chin a stark white against his skin.
If anyone looked like a work of art it would be Arthur. His body seemed to be carved out of marble, strong and hard. His muscles rippled under his flesh. And those eyes, bright blue pools you often found yourself drowning in.
“I think I should be saying that to you.” You whisper, smiling up at him. He shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips.
“Nah, ain’t much to look at here ‘cept for you.” He mumbled, laying a kiss on your shoulder. You’d have to disagree, but your words die on your tongue as his lips lay a trail over your collarbone and up your neck.
“Maybe I should ask Mr. Châtenay to paint my likeness, hm?” You tease. His hand, no longer laying dormant next to your body, squeezes your hip.
“Not a chance in hell darlin’.” He said grinning wickedly at you. His other hand that had been moving along your cheek gripped the back of your neck. “You’re for my eyes only.”
#Arthur Morgan#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#rdr#fluff#hihomeghere#drabble#john Marston#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews
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"Here With Me" ||
Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader
Rating: None
Asked by @photo1030
Ok, I gotcha….what about the first time someone tells Arthur they love him? Could be reader, m or f, or an existing character?
Oh I like this idea a lot and think it’s such a bittersweet feeling for Arthur, I won’t get into the meat of it, but you know how he feels about people calling him ‘a good man’, or just how Mary ended up treating him before she left. This man deserves the world, okay?
*
It had been an age since he heard those words, never had he thought he would actually ever hear them uttered to him, nor did he think he'd ever find the courage to mutter them aloud again to any living soul. He found himself undeserving of any kind words, living the life he had, he knew there'd be a mark upon his soul, and anyone foolish enough to accept him as he was, well they were just that: foolish.
But there you were, admiring him from afar for so long that it almost felt like a fever dream when you two met. He'd brushed anything off at first, just thinking that whatever the weird spark he felt was just in his head, he always ignored those gut feelings because he felt that they didn't deserve to be had. But slowly, those large thick walls were chiseled away one by one over time.
When you had decided to tell him how you finally felt, he wasn't sure what to do, he sat there unblinking, staring directly at you. What was he thinking? Why was he just… sitting there? You knew he wasn't one to delve into his feelings so openly, but your admitted confession had meant a lot to you, so your leg bounced up and down due to your nerves. You knew Arthur well enough that if you rushed him or made him feel like he needed to supply an answer right away, it wouldn't work out so well for either of you, but that didn’t stop you from assuming the worst.
As you sat there and allowed Arthur to think your confession through, you sat back and thought of all the ways he'd changed your life and the way you saw things, but most importantly, he always looked out for you, even when he felt that he shouldn't have gotten you involved in his life to begin with. Boldly, you reached across the wooden table that sat in the camp, the smell of fire and booze hung heavily around you, the lingering gang members that were awake were too drunk or tired to pay you two any mind. Your hand was placed on his, you didn't need to exchange words, you felt that he understood how you felt and why, well, you hoped he understood.
Arthur was good at thinking of others, though he wouldn't care to admit it, always thinking of what was best for you, but never what was best for himself or you both. He was a stubborn man, but it was one of the many reasons you did love him.
His silence wasn't odd, you preferred that he sat back to think things through rather than immediate dismissal, it meant that he was considering your words more than anyone could realize. But you loved to hear him speak, that gruff voice that you could never get enough of, and he graced you with the sound of it.
“You uh, you sure you'd wanna love a man like me? You know what that means, don'tcha?” He asked you, his eyes stared at you beneath the brim of his hat. The light from the fire illuminated half of his face and he looked so beautiful, like a painting that was created with love and carefulness with each stroke.
You just nod in response to his question as you sit across from him, a small smile across your face. “I do, yeah,” you say with a small breath of laughter. “I wouldn't say it carelessly, Arthur. Loving you with all of the ups and downs it comes with is something I'm willing to live with.”
Arthur listened to you once again, his jaw slightly clenched as he held back what he truly wanted to say, which would only be dismissing himself, and you smiled at his ability to bite his tongue.
You couldn't help but chuckle at how his face contorted with so many emotions at once, and he just looked up at you with a hard stare, but it softened as soon as he locked eyes with you.
“No matter what I say, you ain't gonna listen to reason, are you?” He asked you, his tone more gentle this time.
You shook your head. “Nope. I've made up my mind. As grim as it seems, this world doesn't promise us anything, so why not take what time you have and enjoy it? You deserve it, Arthur.” Your grasp on his hand tightened, showing him you weren't going anywhere, he was stuck with you.
The gunslinger swallowed, how mouth suddenly dried as he nodded to your words. “It's… been a while since I heard ‘em, figured I never would again. But… it's nice to hear ‘em, ‘specially comin’ from you.” Arthur offered a smile as he continued to look at you beneath his hat, not wanting to give away just how happy you'd made him. Not yet.
“I love you, that's all you need to know,” you assured the man, “you don't have to do things alone, you never had to, okay? Let me share your burdens with you, and if you don't wanna say it back yet, that's okay. I ain't going anywhere.”
Arthur just nodded again, the smile widened, stretching his lips. “‘Course you ain't, wouldn't let you if you tried,” he said with a chuckle that followed.
For now, those were the only words you needed to hear from him, you knew that with time and patience, that man who was so closed off to the world would allow you a glimpse of his heart.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan drabble#arthur morgan writing#writing drabble#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 arthur morgan#red dead writings#tinalbion writings#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan x reader#gender neutral reader
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Prompt 241
Wing au? Wing Au. With perhaps a bit of a twist. Also a hint of eldritchness perhaps. For fun!
Ghosts have wings. Sure, they aren’t normally seen, not in the visible spectrum, but they do. Scanners pick them up, and sometimes a ghost might even reveal them, which was hypothesized to be some sort of animalistic intimidation attempt. (Something more than one Amity Parker rolled their eyes at)
Everyone had seen them at least once- the motorcycle-driving ghost’s mass of shadowy feathers, the green-haired girls matching shaggy ones, the rocker’s ones that looked like pages of music before bursting into flame. Even the box ghost’s had been spotted- feathers looking more like sheets of cardboard than anything else.
It wasn’t until the whole kidnapped to the ghost zone that anyone saw Phantom’s, but that was another tale unto itself really. Honestly the arrival of the GIW would have maybe been seen as positive before, but the fact that many of them had looked in the mirror or gone to the doctors only to find feathers beginning to sprout on their back soured it.
Especially as the GIW continues to prattle on and on about how all ecto-contaminated scum are less than human, less than bacteria. And well, what does that make them? Them, who have been to the realms of the dead and gods and back, touched by the swirling green energy in ways incomprehensible? Changed by that energy?
So the people silently brush hidden feathers together, quietly rebuff the white-wearing lunatics from the city as best they can, and hope to anything listening that they can stop anyone else from disappearing. That maybe they can find the few no one noticed had been taken before it’s too late, even if they have to tear down the entire government to do it.
#Prompts#Wing Au#DCxDP#DPxDC#Guys in White#Might write drabble for this later to better describe Danny’s wings#Liminal Amity Park#Imagine a whole city of winged people not exactly in a hive mind#But able to silently communicate via feelings/cores without even looking at each other#JL Dark finally got through the issues they were having to finally be able to investigate Amity Park#No one in Amity ever really called JL since trying to call the normal authorities failed#And well now there’s government people here and it Isn’t Good so…#Vlad might get an early redemption#Danny is not ghost king#Space Core Danny#Ghost Cores’ elements and Obsessions have effects on their wings#Why yes Vlad has a few well-hidden heart patterns on the underside of his#Amity Park can’t hide their wings because they all have living/physical bodies and most don’t have invisibility powers#Why yes it feels like an undeath fae city full of sirens and necromancers to any magic user#Very much something They do Not want people to mess with#Honestly with the whole No Wishing & other things w/ Amity it definitely could pass for some sort of fae-descended city
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oh man idk if arthur could ever bring himself to actually do it (and if he did he’d check thrice that it was empty) but i can see him just watching his s/o doing something completely mundane in her little world and imagining himself having her pinned and gripping her jaw to make her keep eye contact with him while he slid the barrel of his gun in and out of her 🫣 it’s a fantasy he keeps tucked away for himself for sure
AHHHFVHJVHDFILV I LOVE THIS
How could Arthur Morgan ever bring himself to do something like that to his precious girlfriend? To put her in such a risky situation with such a dangerous weapon. He's supposed to keep you safe and away from such things after all.
But when he watches you sit from across him, doing whatever it is you do with your free time around camp, he just imagines gripping your pliable jaw and squeezing until your mouth begins forming into an O. His fingers dig into the supple skin of your cheeks, dimpling with his force. It's obscene what he wants to do; but the thought of your cunt, bared and slick with your enthusiasm, and the cool, shining metal of his gun barrel resting against your inner thigh is too good. He hurriedly ushers away any feelings of shame and abashment to the back of his mind as he strokes himself to the thought. The crisp image of your pelvis trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation as the barrel crawls closer and closer to your aching hole. He can't help the wicked exultation he feels from holding eye contact with your glossy and bewildered eyes, a small sense of fear in them at the total loss of control, combined with the foreign sensation going in and out of your cunt.
How could Arthur not feel bad after cumming the hardest he ever has after imagining that. Perhaps it was at your expense, but it was just a fantasy after all.
#red dead redemption 2#red dead fandom#red dead redemption 2 x reader#red dead redemption community#red dead fanfiction#van der linde gang x reader#writing#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x reader smut#arthur morgan smut#drabble#Arthur morgan drabble
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-Sadie Adler as your gf hcs ( sfw/nsfw )
Sadie Adler x Fem!reader
A/N- I am in fact posting these out of pure and utter spite because Sadie Adler can. And will. Kiss girls. Because this is what?! Fan fiction!And it brings me an insane amount of joy that the sheer idea alone of Sadie being queer angers people. Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!!
These are mostlyyy epilogue and beyond based Sadie pls lemme be your lil housewife
Dedicated to @queer-sadie-adler for being the true voice of reason lately amidst the hell hole that has been the queer Sadie discussions. You’re awesome.
Masterlist - requests are open!
• she’s incredibly protective of you. One wrong look your way and she’s ready to start shooting or swinging. Shes so a ‘ why don’t ya take a picture, it’ll last longer ‘ baby has some slight anger issues
• falls very much into the ‘ I hate everyone except you ‘ category. So stoney faced and ready to brawl with everyone, but soft gazes and tender touches with you.
• you hear her before you see her. She’ll ride back home to you after going after a bounty and proudly announce her return with a ‘ honey I’m home! ‘ as she rides up to your home.
• secretly adores the way you fuss over her before she goes out. She lost everything other than you in the space of like. A year. so it’s nice to be reminded how much you care about her. And that she has someone in the world to care about herself.
• she’s actually a pretty decent cook. And you can often expect her to try cook you something nice. Especially if she’s gotten onto your bad side some how, she knows a nice romantic meal will butter you up nice and quick
• I have this thought that she is just a nightmare to share a bed with. Girly tosses and turns and takes up too much damn space. But it just gives you the excuse to crawl up close to her and get comfy in the little space she leaves, falling asleep practically on top of her.
• and on the subject of sleeping. Has just the finest motherfuckin morning voice you’ve ever heard. Her raspy ‘ Mornin my darlin’ in your ear everyday makes you wanna melt into a puddle every damn time.
• loves sharing a bath with you. Especially if she’s been gone for a few days. She’ll make some excuse that it’s just to save on water. But in reality she just wants to relax and hold you close to her, feel your skin on hers to remind her she’s not just some angry bounty hunter. All tough and rough and fighting. She needs the gentle and the calm you provide her.
• hand holding. Forehead kisses. Sitting in her lap as you read on the porch. Just small, gentle acts of intimacy. The kind not discussed but well practiced between lovers.
• she can get in her head a little sometimes. She knows it’s not easy being in a relationship like that in 1907. And she knows that she doesn’t make it much easier on you with the works she does either.
• but she loves you wholeheartedly. And she knows that you love her just as equally. And as much as she feels she doesn’t deserve you, she’ll keep loving you until you don’t want her anymore which would never happen of course
•NSFW•
• she needs to be the one in control all of the time. This isn’t to say she doesn’t like receiving, or like having you on top of her. She just likes to be the one with her hands on the reins yk.
• in fact. She quite enjoys you on top of her or In her lap. But even so, know that she’s the one pulling the strings and she’s two steps ahead of you at all times
• she’s gentle and soft with you, but determined. Whether that’s knowing exactly where to touch you and abusing that same spot over and over again until you’re a shaking mess. Or telling you where and how to touch her.
• I said this in my last hcs but fingers in the mouthhhhh. Idc what anyone says. I see it so vividly. She loves it. Loves watching you suck her fingers to get them wet. Or clean them off.
• eats pussy like a god. Will have you seeing stars and thanking whatever Lord may exist for putting that woman right between your thighs. Sloppy and thorough and has you coming with her name on your tongue.
• thigh riding!!!!
• girly loves to manspread. Will sit there and pat her leg for you to perch on, but manoeuvre you to straddle her leg instead. And she loves how it makes you blush ‘ you’re a regular ol’ cowgirl now ain’t ya honey? ‘ as she leans back in her seat to watch you I’m literally going insane
• morning sex!! Waking up spooning with her, teasing her by wiggling your hips against her until she slips a hand over your hips and between your legs
• ‘ this what y’ wanted? Been dreamin of me honey? ‘
• will absolutely get up afterwards as casual as ever and ask what’s for breakfast. As if she hadn’t just had her fingers buried in your cunt.
• her aftercare is just so gentle. Especially if she’s been gone a while and has you coming for hours on end. She’ll praise you and hold you and help clean you up. Maybe drag you into the tub with her and sit behind you to wash your hair.
• and she enjoys the intimacy of dressing you so much more than undressing. Getting you comfy and cosy in clean night clothes before snuggling up with you in bed, letting you rest your head on her chest and tangling up your legs together.
#Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!#I’m also writing a drabble/os on that thigh riding thing as we speak#gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this woman#Sadie Adler#sadie adler x reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#Sadie Adler smut#x you#fluff#arthur morgan#john marston#van der linde gang#rdr2 Sadie
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Yo yo yo! I have a request. Do Arthur x f!reader where he's teaching her to fish because Hosea/Dutch has found out shes weirdly squirmy about fish but she's being a reluctant brat about things and Arthur loses his temper 'GODDAMMIT wOmAn!' Style. Make its as unhinged smutty as you please (so a LOT 😏) Thank you! 😘😘😘
Ooh. Well now - I do not like fish that much, so this isn’t a stretch for me 😂 This was super fun!! I hope you enjoy.
Gone Fishin'
Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Smut (18+), MDNI
➵ Fic Masterlist
➵ AO3 Link
As Arthur reaches the end of his convalescence after his run-in with Colm O’Driscoll, Hosea has a task for him - teach one of the girls how to fish. The task, he finds out, is a little harder than he imagined. Also, he’s a little harder than he imagined.
Lemoyne was warm. Warm and humid, buggy, and miserable. Arthur’s work shirt stuck to his skin, even after shedding his full union suit underneath his clothes, he’s still too damn hot.
He’s hot and bored.
The pain in his shoulder is just a niggle at this point, but Grimshaw refused to let him go work again, even though the wound has closed up, scabbed over, and is scarred with new pink skin.
Three more days, Grimshaw pointed at him, and with that tone that he knew he would catch hell from her if he disobeyed.
But he’s past languishing under the shade of his tent. Idleness may suit a drunk like Uncle - but not a man like him. He is a man of action.
He needs to do something. Or he is going to go crazy.
-
“Oh, come on, dear. It’s relaxing.”
“Hosea, I don’t do fish. I don’t like eatin’ them, and I sure as hell wouldn’t like catching them.” You huff, standing at the end of the dock.
Hosea sits next to you, a fishing pole in his hand as his feet dangle over the side of the dock. You fiddle with your skirts as you gaze out at the lake, the water glinting in the afternoon sun.
“It’s an art, dear girl.”
You scowl down at him, “Fish are disgusting.”
He laughs, “Oh, you. We’re on a lake, you’re gonna have to get used to fish real soon, missy.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s hot, and you wear just a simple white chemise top tucked into your cotton skirt, baring your arms and decolletage to the sun, a welcome opportunity after almost freezing to death in the Grizzlies.
Hosea looks back toward the camp, where he sees Arthur mulling about. An idea strikes him, genius, as his ideas often are. He stands up, and waves over to the recovering gunslinger, “Arthur, c’mere! Got somethin’ for you to do!”
“No- Hosea,” you whisper harshly, clenching your fists in your skirts, “What are you doing?”
Arthur approaches the end of the dock, running his hand through his long beard, not having shaved in weeks at this point. “Hosea,” He grunts, then looks to you, “Miss.”
“Dear, you need to learn the fine art of fishing. And Arthur over here? He needs somethin’ to do other than sit around pissin’ off Grimshaw.” Hosea waves his free hand toward the camp,
Hosea claps Arthur’s back with his free hand, then turning and tugging you toward the gunslinger on the dock.
“Now you kids take the boat and get on out there, it’ll do both of you some good.”
“Wait wait, wasn’t it you and Dutch makin’ fun of me for the trout incident? I shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to fish.” Arthur shakes his head.
“Nonsense, boy. You caught plenty last time we went out. Besides, it’ll get you out of camp.”
“Fine.” Arthur groans, grabbing the fishing rod from the older man’s outstretched hand.
“Hosea-” You whine, but your benefactor nods his head, cutting you off.
“Go on.”
You roll your eyes, following Arthur as he steps into the rowboat moored at the dock, taking his outstretched hand, and helping you step into the small boat.
“You kids have fun now.” Hosea waves, a smile on his face.
Arthur grunts, picking up the oars and pushing off from the dock. You sit in the bow of the rowboat, scowling, as Arthur rows away from the camp, scanning the horizon. A hushed quiet falls as he guides the boat southbound, the camp becoming smaller and smaller as he rows deeper out into the lake.
“Why do you want to learn how to fish?”
“I don’t.” You huff, your arms crossed over your chest.
“Then why the hell are we out here?” Arthur stops rowing, a scowl also settling in on his face.
“Cause you can’t say no to Hosea.”
“Looks like neither can you.”
An awkward silence settles in between you.
“Well, we’re out here now. Might as well make the best of it.” Arthur says, pulling the oars into the hull of the boat and picking up the fishing rod. He holds it out to you.
You let out an exasperated sigh, refusing to uncross your arms.
Arthur grumbles, adjusting the hat on his head, before drawing the rod back and pulling a feathered lure from his pocket, placing it on the hook. He casts the line further out into the lake.
“Didn’t really plan on fishin’ today, otherwise I’d have some live bait - worms or crickets or whatnot.” He turns back to you, tugging on the rod slightly, glancing back as the lure bobs in the water.
You glower, scrunching your nose at the mention of live bait.
“I hate fish.” You grit out.
“Oh, hush.” Arthur chides. The line pulls, and he feels something bite.
“Here ya go!” He pulls back the line, the fish hanging in the air. With a grin, he swings the pole in your direction, the bluegill flopping on the line, getting closer to your head.
You scream, standing up in the boat and batting the fish away from your face, causing Arthur to jerk to the side, dropping the fishing pole in surprise. The boat violently bobs side to side with your movement.
“Goddamnit, woman!” Arthur yells, nearly falling over the side of the boat as he tries to catch the pole that you batted away from him.
“I told you I don’t like fish!” You screech, sitting back down slowly as the boat bucks.
“That’s it, Christ; you’re such a goddamn brat!” Arthur throws the pole within the hull of the boat and grabs the oars, thrusting them into the water forcefully. He heaves the oars, forcing the boat forward as he angrily pulls and pushes back toward the shore, breathing heavily as he propels the boat through the water.
“Arthur - wait-”
“Waste of my goddamn time,” He continues, fuming. It actually feels good to work his muscles like this.
“Arthur!”
By then, it’s too late. The boat hits a sandbar and beaches itself, and the speed at which Arthur was rowing causes the boat to lurch violently, sending you flying forward into his body, and you both tumble to the hull of the boat, a jumble of limbs and your skirts.
Arthur pushes you up, and you nearly fall backward with the force of his shove.
He swears as you get your footing, sitting up and looking for the oars as he pulls himself back up to his seat.
The oars are nowhere to be found. He probably dropped them when he beached the damn boat. Actually, as he squints, he sees one floating away from the sandbar, back toward the middle of the lake.
“Shit.” He curses.
“You idiot.” You sneer at him, lifting your boot to find it wet with lakewater, a hole having sprung in the bottom of the hull, the wood splintered as water rushes in. You hike up your skirts as the level of water rises within the boat.
Arthur jumps out of the boat, grumbling, looking this way and that as you climb out as well. The sandbar the boat is beached upon is on one of the small islands off the shore of the lake, a good fifty feet to the mainland. He curses to himself as he looks back into the boat, the hull filling with water.
“Now what?” You ask critically as you let your skirts down, following him as he stalks along the island’s shore.
He doesn’t answer, looking around at the sandy ground beneath his boots.
“Watch out for the snake.” He points at the ground next to you, and your eyes dart downward as a brown water moccasin slithers by.
You scream, jumping toward him in fear away from the snake as it glides away into the water, and in a jumble of limbs, you’re somehow climbing the man as he stumbles backward.
“Get me out of here!”
Arthur tries to have some sort of propriety as he tries to regain his balance, but it’s hard when the only hold on you he can get is to loop his hands under the backs of your thighs. You’re clutching at his shoulders, trying to get yourself off of the ground, and end up finding purchase on him by wrapping your legs around his hips, your skirts askew as you pant in terror.
“Fuckin’ stop-” Arthur grunts, stumbling backwards, finally losing his battle with gravity as you and he tumble into a sand dune. His hat flies off, rolling on its rim in a circle, finally settling a few feet away.
Of course, of course, it couldn’t suit him to land in any kind of proper or decent way. No, no, he had to land completely on top of you, slotted between your hips, your skirts creeping up while his traitorous, immature, villainous cock swells at the pressure of his weight against your clothed cunt.
The air has been knocked out of your lungs, but beneath him, you gasp as he tries to move. Your knees frame him, skirts fallen to your hips to show your skin. Your arms are still thrown around his shoulders as he tries to push himself up, his hands slipping in the sand, causing him to crumble down on you, his hips fully pressing down on yours.
Shit. Shit.
He’s trying to think of anything - rotten meat, Uncle’s laundry - anything to stave off the growing erection tenting within his pants. But alas, he is a slave to his own biology, as his cock stiffens and his blood rushes into his groin.
You stare up at him. His eyes dart away in embarrassment, a blush deepening on his cheeks.
Then, you do something that throws him even further into this pit of arousal he finds himself in.
You slowly roll your hips against him and he cannot help but to let out a low moan in response and press his swollen cock against you harder.
Christ, your hair has fallen from its bun, spread out on the sandy soil of this island like some sort of halo.
Two minutes ago he wanted to throttle you. Now, underneath him, he wants to make you gasp and cry and oh, to say his name in a high whine-
“Fuck-” he curses, but before he can go any further, your hands move from his shoulders to the back of his neck, and you pull downward gently - not enough to move him, but enough to give him permission.
He waits for a moment, searching your wide eyes, your open, wet lips, and in that moment, he throws caution to the wind and leans down to slot his lips against yours. You continue to roll your hips against him, crossing your ankles over his back in a surefire sign of what you wanted, whining into his mouth.
And fuck, if he wasn’t going to give it to you.
As he leans back on his knees, sliding his arms from around your waist, he paws his suspenders down and starts unbuttoning his pants, desperate to free his swollen cock. He grunts with a hint of satisfaction as he pulls his length from his pants, closing his eyes as he strokes himself several times. He faintly recognizes your squirming beneath him, and when he’s opened his eyes again, hand still on his cock, he’s struck by what he sees. You’ve shimmied down your bloomers, skirts flipped up and over your hips, pooling across your waist.
Your folds glisten with moisture, and his hips jut forward near uncontrollably, his cock seeking out your warmth, his body yearning to bury itself within your hips.
“Y- you sure-?” One last chance - one more opportunity to back away from the precipice - to realize that you are both being ridiculous - one second ready to kill each other, the next…
“Arthur please.”
Well, there goes his reservations.
One of his large hands spreads out over your hip, the other around the base of his cock, and he presses the swollen, dripping head of his cock against your folds, trailing downwards as he parts them to your opening, groaning in pleasure as he slips in half an inch.
His hand leaves his cock as he leans back over you, arm landing next to your shoulder, as he gently presses his hips forward, sliding in as you shut your eyes in overstimulation. By the time his hips press against your own and he’s sheathed in you to the hilt, your eyes flutter open as you let out a breath you were holding. Arthur’s other arm comes up to bracket you in, his mouth hanging open as a strand of his honeyed-brown hair falls forward between his eyes.
He lowers himself down to his elbows to press himself completely against you, seeking out your lips again as he bucks his hips forward, causing you to mewl into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, one hand cupping the back of his head, fingers threading into his long hair, grasping it tightly as he settles into a rhythm of rolling his hips back and forth.
You pull on his hair and he groans, thrusting hard into you in response. Seems like you aren’t over your surly mood. He finds a hard and punishing rhythm, again feeling good to work his muscles after his convalescence. It had been much longer than that since he’s worked these particular muscles.
“A-Arthur-” You moan loudly as he continually strokes that spot within you. He grunts in response, pulling his cock nearly out of your cunt before slamming his hips back into you.
You shriek in pleasure, and for a moment he’s thankful he’s marooned the two of you on this island yards away from the shore of the lake.
“Y’gonna come for me?” He harshly whispers into your ear, “Y’gonna come on my cock?”
That does it.
You cry out, back arching against him, head thrown back into the grassy dune, a high keening sound that makes him moan helplessly in response, gyrating his hips as your cunt clenches hard around his length, warm and wet and perfect.
“Fuck - fuck - woman…” He groans, rutting forward as you come down from your high, his cock pulsing and covered in your warm slick, and he is forced to pull himself from you, gliding out as he sits back on his knees and starts to pump himself.
You look up and god, is he a sight. His hips buck forward as he strokes his length, his mouth hanging open and muscles of his abdomen clenching under his shirt tails. A low moan escapes him as his other hand flies to cover the head of his cock, and he comes with his eyes screwed shut, looming over you.
He pants, for several moments, before opening his eyes. You sit up, needing, needing more, and you loop your hands around his neck again and pull his lips to yours, pressing your tongue into his mouth. He grunts in surprise, but leans into the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours.
You pull back, a smile creeping across your face, and as he opens his eyes, he cannot help the same.
“Is that how your lessons always end?” You laugh as he tucks himself away with his clean hand, leaning to the side to wipe his other hand in the grass as a half a smile creeps across his face.
“Only when the student is difficult.” He rumbles, tucking his shirt back into his pants as you start to pull your skirts down over your thighs.
“Mm.. I do remember you offering to teach me to shoot before Blackwater.”
Arthur arches an eyebrow as he rebuttons his pants and slides his suspenders back up. “Y’gonna be a brat about it?”
“Of course.”
He smirks, reaching for his hat on his knees. You push yourself up to stand, shaking your skirt free of sand and grass as you look for where you tossed your bloomers in your fit of passion.
“Arthur.”
“Mhm?” He replies, running his hand through his long hair before placing his hat back on his head.
“How are we going to get back to shore?”
-
Hosea smokes a cigarette sitting by the scout fire, the sun having gone down some time ago.
He’s starting to feel a niggle of concern that the two of you aren’t back. The both of you can certainly take care of yourselves.
You’re stalking back toward your tent, your clothes soaking wet, hair plastered down your neck. You refuse to give Hosea even a passing glance as you head back to the women’s tent.
Hosea arches an eyebrow as Arthur walks closer, also fuming. Also soaking wet. The gunslinger looks at Hosea briefly before carrying on.
“Lesson didn’t go as planned.”
#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan x reader#red dead fandom#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#red dead fanfic#red dead smut#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan x female reader#tumblr prompt#drabble#twolafic#gift fic
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i need to write a detailed essay about how jovier fell apart and the psychology of javier escuella
#i also need to write a little drabble about the jight john returned from sisika bc its eating at my brain#jovier#john marston#javier escuella#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#red dead fandom#red dead redemption community#rdr#red dead redemption two#red dead#red dead 2
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I love the hc that Danny can't help but trigger this innate, subconscious fight or flight response in everyone he meets. I love it even more when it's the reason why he still gets bullied by Dash.
Truth be told, Dash grew up years ago. His mean streak had been a short-lived phase that left a bad taste in his mouth. The sudden influx of hormones brought on by the onset of puberty had apparently muddled his brain and left him emotionally stunted for the duration of his freshman year. He'd shoved nerds into lockers and stolen their lunch money. He sorely wishes he hadn't been so excruciatingly cliche.
But he'd somehow managed to unstick his head from his ass pretty quick and he hasn't laid a finger on anyone since - well, except for Fenton.
Fenton had always been the exception. Small and slouched, with a messy fringe that fell into his eyes. Danny Fenton always made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end whenever he walked past.
His arm would brush too close or his shoulder would bump into his in a crowded hallway and Dash's arm would lash out before he could even comprehend the accidental touch. Fenton would be pinned against a locker with Dash's forearm against his neck in the blink of an eye.
The funny thing is though, no one stops him. The other kids don't call him out and the teachers are always coincidentally absent.
Dash isn't a bully - at least not anymore. He helped Lester get his locker door open after a ghost attack left the damn thing jammed shut. He stays late after practice so the girls on the cheer team don't have to walk home when the sun starts dipping low. He holds doors open for the people walking behind him and even offers a polite smile. The other day he stopped to help some little kid struggling to tie their shoelaces.
He's trying to be better. His mom cried about how proud she was on his birthday last month and principal Ishiyama made a passing comment on how nice it was not seeing him in her office every week. He enjoys being nice to people. It's gratifying, and some kids have started coming up to him when they need help.
Once upon a time, Dash had been a chubby self-conscious kid who'd hit the gym as soon as his dad had gotten sick of his begging. Puberty had hit him like a truck and he'd started shaving a year before anyone else. Since then he'd bulked up and was far larger than the average high schooler. He'd been honing his reflexes for years and never drops the ball. He's the shield that everyone hides behind during ghost fights. He's big and strong and has damn good aim - which is better than nothing when going up against a ghost.
But there's something wrong with Fenton.
Danny makes sweat gather beneath his collar and Dash has to grind his teeth any time he walks past.
At least he's not the only one.
Kwan's hands are always clenched into fists when they walk past Fenton's locker, even if he's not there. It feels wrong to have your back to Fenton in the changing rooms and Lancer's the only teacher still handing Danny a detention slip - Dash suspects it's cause none of the other staff can stand to be alone with him for that long.
No one steps in when someone lashes out at the Fenton kid. No one says a word or runs towards the teacher's lounge when Dale has Danny by the arm, eyes wide and gripped so tight his knuckles turn white.
The hallway goes silent and the world steps back as Dash's team flank his sides while the front of Danny's shirt is bunched in his fist. His heart thuds against his ribs and pounds in his ears as Danny opens his mouth to make a sarcastic quip. Danny's always been a sarcastic, mouthy little shit, but Dash can't find it in himself to laugh, not while his body forms a physical barrier between Fenton and everyone else - not when Dash has him by the throat but he's the one feeling cornered and exposed. He has to dig his toes into the soles of his sneakers to resist running.
It's not normal.
Dash plays along, keeping his cool as he goes through the familiar routine. He spits out a pathetic insult that misses its mark and thumps Danny against his locker before dropping him to the ground.
It feels rehearsed, like he's stuck in a cycle he can't seem to break. It's one big act that Dash walks away from with adrenaline churning the contents of his stomach and sweat gathering in the palms of his hands. The hallway parts as Dash walks away. He spares a glance at Kwan, whose dark eyes are trained on the floor in front of him, his fists clenching at his sides, shaking under the fluorescent lights. Dash hides his own hands in his pockets. The one he had bunched in Danny's shirt trembles, his nerves vibrating with the sensation of pins and needles. It feels like static under his skin. He tries wiping it off on the inside of his jacket.
The entire student body of Casper high follows behind him.
#dp#home of renn#danny phantom#dash unwittingly becomes the protector of casper high that stands between everyone else and fenton#danny fenton#dash baxter#drabble#casper high#dp ficlet#dp lancer#mr lancer#kwan#dp kwan#dribble drabble#cryptid danny#eldritch danny#i love my eldritch abomination son#angst#dash baxter redemption#character development#amity park
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Uncomfortable Pleasures
Okay, so this is gonna be literally Arthur but like....edging him....but not really? But like....kinda?? You'll see...>;)
ANyway this one is gonna be for @cantchoosejust1 and @beea-nie who inspired this little thing
Warnings!: NSFW themes, sexual themes, female reader, voyeurism, self pleasure ;)
Let’s go people get ready for Arthur Morgan whining
Arthur stared at the ceiling, his fingers interlocked on his stomach.
He paid close attention to his breathing, counting each breath, seeing how long was in-between each one.
His head was full.
Too full.
He was a fool.
He let a huff out and closed his eyes, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands.
“Jesus Christ...what are ya? Twelve?”
He put his hands to his sides and looked down at his....problem, nestled between his legs.
A tent in his Union suit that had been there since he’d crawled into his cot with shame.
You hadn’t left his mind, you pretty much plagued it. Walking around camp, beautiful, more than beautiful, but you weren’t his.
But...
As much as you weren’t his it seemed like you enjoyed teasing him. Got a kick out of it.
Hell, every time he looked over it was like you were doing something different.
Leaning over to show off your cleavage, or hell your ass if you were facing the other way.
He loved your ass.
He couldn’t tell you that, he couldn’t tell you anything he felt for you.
He just couldn’t.
You weren’t into him like that, and he wasn’t good enough for you. He knew that.
But hell, you made his body react like he was a teenager again, his pants formed a tent nearly every time he saw you, and it drove him nuts.
He wanted to be your friend, yeah he wanted more but he couldn’t have it, so why couldn’t he just be normal.
He thought about you all the time, whether he wanted to or not.
Your thighs, the curve of your hips, your lips, your face, your smile, the way your eyes looked when you focused, your hair, everything about you.
His carnal desires often took over and he couldn’t stop himself from imagining what your face would look like while he pounded into you relentlessly.
What you sounded like, what kind of moans would leave your mouth.
It wasn’t on purpose.
He didn’t want to.
He didn’t want that at all, he wanted to be a good person to you.
He felt so....
So...Guilty.
He shouldn’t think of you like that, not when you weren’t his. Not when you weren’t together.
There was no way the two of you would happen so...he felt horrible as he looked down at the bulge in his pants.
The more he thought about you the more his union suit seemed to get tighter.
He needed to take care of it.
He didn’t want to, not when it was because of you, not when he was gonna think about you the whole time.
But he needed it gone. If he wanted to sleep.
He let out a huff of air, and unbuttoned the top of his suit.
The guilt only seemed to grow worse as he continued to unbutton lower, his face was heating up, his chest too.
Hell, no one was here in his tent with him. He didn’t even have his oil lamp on, no one could see him even if they were.
The only person who knew was him, yet he felt guilty.
“Just...get it done with.” He mumbled to himself.
Finally he opened the last button, and watched in the dim light of the tent as his dick sprang out.
Jesus, you’re already leakin’ what the hell is wrong with you?
He sighed and spit in his hand before taking his cock in it.
He shuddered slightly at the first touch, and started to move his hand slowly, dragging his thumb over the tip as he reached the top.
A sigh left his lips and he dropped his head, closing his eyes.
The image of you popped in his head, sucking his cock, looking up at him with tears in his eyes.
Christ what is wrong with you?
He had to admit, that image did spur him on a little more.
He brought his other hand to his balls, cupping them gently as he continued, still moving slowly, but picking up his pace slightly.
He sucked air in through his teeth, trying to keep from making too much noise.
It had been about a week or so since he’d done this...
He was a little overdue.
“Arthur! Oh....Oh....Arthur! Right there! Right There!”
The idea of you crying out for him....
His hand moved a little faster now, only allowing a small hum out of his throat.
Your face as he ate you out...
What did you taste like?
He listened to the sounds he made, his skin hitting against his own skin.
His chest was warm, his face too, every part of him felt warm, too warm.
His pace picked up again, his thumb ran over the tip of his dick every time he reached the top, angry with himself as he let out a small whimper.
He was taking too long. Granted he just started but he shouldn't have started in the beginning.
He imagined his hand around your throat, watching your eyes roll back into your head as he fucked you, gave you a leg shaking orgasam that had you calling out his name.
"Fuck..."
He heard the word escape his lips and felt again foolish.
His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, moving without him thinking anymore.
God he wanted to know how it felt to be inside you.
Warm, and wet, begging to be fucked.
God you made him hot and bothered like no other.
He brought an arm over his eyes as he continued, and felt his face flare as he let a whine out.
"Y/N..."
The image of your backside came into his mind, his hands clasping onto your hips hard enough to bruise, his dick pistoning in and out of you while you arch your back and let out all kinds of noises.
His name, moans, cries almost.
He moans himself, low, gutteral, instinctual, and clasps his other hand over his mouth as he continues to pump his fist.
God what he wouldn't give to hear you beg.
Beg for him, for his cock.
To hear you beg him to let you finish.
To hear you scream his name, dig scratches into his shoulders and arms.
Your ankles on his shoulders.
God the things he wanted to do to you.
He felt himself thrust up into his hand now, he was getting desperate.
He wanted to finish.
Wanted to be done so he could hate himself for the things he thought.
"Please...darlin'..." He didn't know why he acted as though he was talking to you, but the fact that his voice came out in a beg, a whine, just proved to him how much of a fool he was.
The cot beneath him creaked as he moved his hips, feeling the sweat throughout his union suit.
That tension started to build in his lower stomach.
He was close.
Just a little more.
Thats all he needed. Just a little more...
His hand was going fast now, he'd given in completely at this point.
"Y/N....please...christ..."
He listened to himself as his voice came out in pants, mixed with whines. He was truly at your mercy and you weren't even here.
He could feel it, he was going to-
"Hey Arthur you doing okay?"
Arthur felt his eyes widen and quickly he turned to his side, facing the wagon.
His heart leaped to his throat.
His dick was throbbing, begging him to finish.
He swallowed and looked towards his tent flaps, where the voice came from.
It was John, at least he thought it was.
"Yeah...fine." he did his best to try and sound as though he'd just woke up, not like he'd been awake for hours.
Please....go away I was so close....
"Just checkin'...thought I heard you rustlin' around."
"I'm fine, jus' uncomfortable." Arthur huffed and looked down at his dick again. "Jus' let me try to sleep alright?"
"Course, Sorry."
He offered a huff in response and listened to the sound of John's footsteps leading away before rolling back onto his backside.
His cock still standing tall, still fucking throbbing.
He had been so close.
So
So
Close.
He'd been one second away.
With a sigh he again spit in his hand and grabbed onto his dick, used to the sensation now as he started again.
He needed to finish. He just had to. Once he did he could sleep.
He let himself drift. Imagining anything he could with you.
Fucking you in places he shouldn't. Like out on guard duty, against a tree, his fingers dipping below the waistband of your pants.
Or against some building somewhere where the two of you could get caught.
Holding your head as you tried to take all of him in your mouth.
"Arthur? You awake?"
"Jesus Christ." He mutters under his breath and you furrow your brow outside the tent.
Perhaps he hadn't heard you, you'd whispered fairly quietly, it was possible.
You gently moved the tent flap aside only to let in moonlight and see Arthur with his hand firmly around his cock, moving it quickly with such ferverency that it was like he'd die if he didn't get what he needed.
His hair was dishiveled and his chest was red, his neck, face.
His dick was leaking precum, you could see it from here.
The whole sight, the small whimper you'd heard just moments before coming in.
It all sent heat pooling to your stomach.
You'd felt something for him for a long time.
A very long time.
You'd been in the same boat as Arthur, that's why you were here.
His eyes widened as you'd stepped into the tent and within moments he'd pulled a blanket over himself and placed his hand over his eyes.
"Y/N....I...I am so...sorry...I..."
He's silent but all you can focus on is the blanket around his hips.
"Arthur..."
"Yeah...say what you're gonna say, you've already seen how pathetic I am."
"Arthur I'm..." you swallow, and step closer to his cot, enclosing the space in almost complete darkness. "I...I was coming here for the same issue..actually."
"Wha-"
You grab his wrist and guide it to your undergarmets, your waistband.
"Y/N I know this is awkward but you ain't gotta-"
You roll your eyes and shove his hand in your pants, guiding him towards your heat.
"Jesus..."
You swallow again and you can make out what he looks like now in the darkness of his tent.
"I'd....Arthur I'd like...." you struggle, self concious, even though his fingers were gently swirling inside you.
"Arthur please. Can...Can you help me..please....I....I want you..to...to fuck me."
"Y/N...I...jesus you some kinda mind reader or somethin'?"
"No...I...wouldn't be this bold if you...well if you hadn't been doing that...I was gonna try to ease you into the idea..."
Arthur swallows and you feel his fingers curl in just the right way.
You squeeze your legs and attempt not to make a sound.
"You...shit you really want that? With me?"
"Is the pool in my pants not enough for you?"
He's silent for a moment, and looks towards his hips where he clearly still had a tent.
"You ain't gonna regret it?"
"No."
"Ride me."
You move without hesitation, Arthur pulls his fingers from your pants and licks them clean as you pull them off.
You throw the blanket off of him and take in the sight of his cock.
You've thought about him for so long.
The realization that you were gonna get him
It sent sparks through you.
You crawl onto the cot, and gently lower yourself onto him, listening to him whimper as he throws his head back.
"Jesus you really came at just the right time...." He offers you a nervous chuckle. "I was...I was real close to finishin' I ain't gonna guarentee I'll last very long."
"Arthur I was doing the same thing I probably won't either."
He grunts in response and his hands find your hips in the dark, gliding over your thighs to find purchase there.
Gently he pushes you back slightly, and guides your hips upwards. Back and upwards, down and repeat.
His hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, yet he was moving you slowly.
"Arthur..." you lean forward on his chest, your breasts against his chest, and kiss him.
It takes him by surprise. Such an intimate act, to him maybe even more intimate than the fact that he was settled inside you.
"You are such a gentlemen," you murmer against his lips. "But, I said I want you to fuck me."
Arthur swallows and he nods as he starts to thrust up into you.
"Darlin'....I...ain't got...no problem with that.."
He was large, and had you not already been as wet as you were you would have needed SO much foreplay, but now...
It felt immaculate.
His size, his girth, it filled you just right and each thrust hit a spot it needed to.
Arthur...
God for such a dominant man, and you were sure had he not been caught unawares this would have been a very different situation, he was whining under you, whimpering, writhing almost.
It was like he needed you
Had to have you
He made such glorious faces, slack jawed and sweaty, his face red.
He was...
Well
Completely, utterly, at your mercy.
You kiss him again, trying to muffle both his whines and your moans the fast his hips begin to get.
You tongue tangles with his, and his hand leaves your hip to reach for your throat.
He breaks the kiss as the pace speeds, he's panting for breath as he drops his head to the pillow.
"Darlin'....Princess...I'm....fuck...I'm....soon.."
You nod, the coil in your stomach was getting tighter yourself, you knew you'd be done for soon enough.
"Where....?" He huffs, unable to get the rest of what he wants out.
"Stomach." You manage to get out, and just in time to.
He physically lifts you off himself and you watch as his spend comes out against your stomach, and some splatters on your thighs.
He lets out a low groan of so much relief you feel it vibrate through you.
He doesn't forget about you even in his current state, and almost groggily his fingers find your heat and he manages to finish you off within only a matter of seconds, making your legs shake easily.
The two of you are panting against each other, and you lay your forehead against his sweaty chest.
"Jesus Christ Y/N."
"I'm sorry Arthur...for...for walking in."
"Nah..." He takes a deep breath and his arm wraps around you, bringing you to a more comfortable position laying against his chest. He doesn't give a shit about the mess that sticks to both of you.
"I'm glad you did..." he kisses your head. "Makes confessin' my feelin's to ya a lot easier."
"Mine too.."
He grunts in response.
"You can stay...if you want, just sleep with me, 'stead of sneakin' back into your tent."
"I'd like that." You mumble, already half asleep as it was.
"Mhm...me too..."
#rdr2#arthur morgan#rdr2 community#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan drabble#arthur morgan fanfiction
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Arthur Morgan Gives You Aftercare and Walks You Home
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, aftercare, nudity, suggestive, kissing, secret relationship, flirting, age-gap, sneaking around
A/N: The scenario of secretly dating Arthur wouldn't leave my mind.
Who knew that you'd be the kind of woman to sneak around with an older man? You didn't for sure, or your friends, or your father, especially him. Is it really sneaking if Arthur was supposed to be your escort and guard anyway? Yes, because you were supposed to be at a meeting, not in the room he was renting. And you sure as hell weren't supposed to be naked in his bed.
"Brought some water and cloth." Arthur entered and locked the door behind him. "Let's get you cleaned up. Open up for me sweetheart."
He was too casual for this, cleaning up the mess he helped make. Your hips twitched upwards when he pressed the wet cloth between your legs. "It's sensitive. You should really learn how to treat a lady right, Arthur."
"I know how to treat a lady. Exactly why I have you in this state. Be still so I can finish here and get you back home before your old man sends an army after me." Arthur's smile was still warm and playful, as were his eyes, now that you got a better look at him.
Stranger, guard, and now your secret lover. Quite a turn of events for a quiet little town like yours. It was more like those romance stories you heard of.
Arthur helped you get dressed as well, asking if anything hurt anywhere. Suposedly he was holding back on you before, yet his strong hands still left marks on your delicate thighs. A reminder of your night together, one that you can call upon in the earliest hours of the morning when your imagination and your hand tend to wander.
He was almost too perfect of a man while in public, treating you with the respect a rich young lady like yourself deserves. "Here's your stop missy. Tell your old man I said hello."
"I will not. He might suspect us furher." Even with that risk you still placed your hands against Arthur's chest and kissed him. His prickly stubble scratched against your skin, making you hold back a laugh. "Thank you for another lovely night."
"The pleasure was all mine." Actually it was very mutual.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan fanfiction#arthur morgan smut#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 fluff#rdr2 smut#rdr2 x female reader#arthur morgan x female reader#red dead redemption x female reader#smut drabble#fluff drabble#x female reader
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[STRADDLE]- Arthur Morgan
A/n: Here is smutty little blurb for our sluttly little cowboy.
Prompts:
[STRADDLE]:my muse sits down in your muses’ lap.
[HAIR]:your muse pulls on my muses’ hair.
Arthur Morgan never thought that he would ever fall for a rich man’s daughter, yet here he was. The plan was that he was supposed to steal your family blind but meeting you, seeing how kind you were. Well it was hard not for him to fall.
And now here he was, sprawled out on the bed with you straddling his hips. He did his best to focus on how soft the mattress was but it was getting hard with you grinding down on him.
“What are you doin darlin?”
Letting out a hum you slipped your fingers under his shirt. “Well what does it look like Mr.Morgan?” Leaning in you let your lips trail his neck with soft kisses. “I’m trying to seduce you.”
A deep rumble escaped his lips as he clutched your hips tightly pushing you down against his hard on, a gasp escaping your lips. “Well darlin. I think you’re doing a good job at it.”
Shuddering you dug your nails into his chest, your eyes glazed over with lust. “Well what are you waiting for Mr. Morgan? Are going to make me a proper woman?”
A laugh escaped his lips as he flipped you, now hovering over your smaller frame. His hands slipping under your skirts. “With all do respect beautiful. I am not sure I can find a proper thing about you now.” He teased.
Scoffing, you gave him a playful smile as your fingers weave through his hair giving it a harsh tug.
“Ass.”
Cupping your breast he gave it a squeeze then ripped the material away, your body shudder as the cold air hit your nipples. Arthur’s fingers gliding over your bottom. “Does your daddy know what these sinful lips of yours do?”
Giving him a smile, your eyes darkened with lust as you took one of his fingers in your mouth sucking the digit. Your eyes fixated on the man as he messages the bulge through his pants. Letting his finger go through a pop you then liked your lips. “Are you going to fuck me Mr.Morgan…or should I take the matter into my own hands.”
Chuckling deeply, he clutched his belt buckle undoing it. “Since you asked such nicely, how can I deny such a request….now try not to scream so loudly miss.”
#drabbles#drabble#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x reader#Arthur Morgan x y/n#red dead redemption ii#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr#rdr x reader
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"Savior" ||
Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader
Rating: None
Length: 2.1k
Asked by: @photo1030
Ooo! Random thought, maybe can link to my last request. Reader (or character, your choice) gets hurt and Arthur has to take care of them. Maybe shot in the leg and he has to carry them. They get to see a softer side to him, being all caretaker and protective.
Protective Arthur is just... *chef's kiss*
I can't explain it but seeing him so good with a gun, being able to down someone within seconds then to turn around and be so gentle with you?? I need it, crave it, even. Thanks for the ask, hon!~
*
It was supposed to be a simple bank coach robbery, just a quick in-and-out sort of situation, and you insisted that you go along to assist Mary-Beth and Sean, but with Arthur being as worried as he always was, he felt it was best to tag along and make sure Sean didn’t pull you into any other mischief. The Irishman, of course, took offense to that, but he didn’t exactly mind that you two wanted to tag along. The more the merrier, even if the cut of the pay was less.
As much as Arthur tried to insist you remain back, you were headstrong and refused to let him tell you what you were capable of. You’d had a successful string of heists you were able to pull off with the other gang members, so why would this one be any different? Without much argument afterward, you rode off on your horse behind Sean and Mary-Beth, and a disgruntled Arthur followed you all from the rear.
It was difficult to put into words how this made Arthur feel, but he knew that going along to assist would have eased his discomfort, and hearing Sean’s plan to distract the coach was more than entertainment in itself. But with Sean being inept with firearms, Arthur had ridden alongside your horse to listen in on the plan.
Mary-Beth was more than excited to get out of the camp and put her talent to good use, and even more so when you had offered to tag along if they wouldn’t mind. “Oh, this is excitin’!” She exclaimed with a large smile on her face. “Easy enough to flag ‘em down, I think.”
Sean was proud of his idea and felt that he should have had more credit, but Arthur, being who he was, was unsure and unimpressed with Sean’s usefulness when it came to stressful situations.
“I’m just keepin’ an eye on you, MacGuire, I know they’re solid,” he stated matter-of-factly as his horse trotted along to the speed of Ennis.
“Alright, alright, you get knocked out on a mission one time-”
“More than once,” Arthur corrected.
The Irishman just scoffed and shook his head. “Look, you can write about it in your journals, but let’s get back to my job, the one I brought y’all in on!” He huffed.
You couldn’t help but laugh at how much those two men were always at each other’s throats, no matter what the other was doing. “Let’s focus, gentleman, the lady and I will have this done lickety-split, it’ll be a cakewalk.” You looked over at Arthur with confidence shining in your eyes, and you thought you caught a glimpse of a smile from across his face, but it was gone before you could blink.
Sean led the way until they came to a crossroads, then he told you all to keep the horses out of sight as he scoped out where they could hide for the time being. “Alright then, here we are, they’ll be comin’ from the North any minute, you both know what you’re doin’, right?”
Arthur just scoffed and shook his head. “Course they know what they’re doin’,” he replied gruffly.
You jumped down from your horse and patted its muzzle gently. “Mary-Beth is gonna run out and flag ‘em down, I’ll be off a ways to scope out the guards, and you two will be behind the log. Sean will ring off some shots, and Arthur will come in and clean up while I pick ‘em off from behind. Easy.”
Sean looked satisfied with that response and nodded. “Alright, perfect! Now, Morgan, let’s go and get behind this log, you-” he pointed in your direction, “-get over to those trees and don’t be spotted. Mary-Beth, get ready.”
The redhead felt proud of this plan, he was sure everything would work out, and he had the details down to a T. Everything went fine until it didn’t.
Instead of spooking the guards to throw them off, Sean took aim after hearing the way one of the men spoke to Mary-Beth and scoped him from his spot behind the log. Arthur immediately began to fire, albeit reluctantly since Sean was deviating from the initial plan. He hadn’t caught sight of you yet, but he figured you were doing alright for yourself. Then suddenly, a man lunged for Mary-Beth and held a gun to her head, his arm clenched around her throat.
“Let GO of me!” She snapped, trying her best to claw at his arm.
“Got your little lady friend here! Drop your guns!”
Arthur removed his rolling block rifle and watched the man hide himself behind the woman through the scope. “Dammit, he keeps movin’, don’t got a clear shot.”
“I got it!” You suddenly yelled out, and before you had a chance to line up the shot, the man had heard you and took aim. The shot rang out and the bullet penetrated your upper thigh.
Your scream echoed out and Arthur finally had a clear shot to take the man down for good. “Sean, get Mary-Beth! I got them!” He said as he threw the gun over his shoulder and took off running where you’d fallen to the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled to himself as he finally caught up to you.
You were trying your best to hold onto your leg the best you could to apply pressure, but it didn’t help much, you couldn’t stifle the scream you released when it hurt a little too much. “Shit, guess I messed that up badly…”
“Nah, you didn’t, lemme see,” Arthur said as he moved your hands, checking out where the wound was. “Ah, right through the meat of the leg but just missed your femoral artery. You’ll be alright, just gotta treat it when we get to camp. C’mon, it ain’t gonna feel pretty.”
Arthur grabbed his bandana and tied it around your leg the best he could to keep pressure, then he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to his horse.
Sean and Mary-Beth had cleaned out the coach and the dead men’s pockets as he took care of you, but Mary-Beth felt awful. “Are they gonna be alright?” She asked, her tone laced with worry.
He just nodded and helped you as carefully as he could onto his horse, but the discomfort was a lot, yet you remained as strong as you could and held onto the horn of the saddle. “Call my horse, please…” You whimpered. “Can’t leave ‘em here…”
“You worry ‘bout yourself, your horse’ll be fine,” the gunslinger assured you as he hopped on behind you. “It’s gonna hurt with the ride but the faster we get back the better. Y’all go on, we’ll split the money when we meet back, don’t let anyone follow you.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Sean said with a meek smile, feeling awful you’d been hurt. “Take care of ‘em, will ya?”
Arthur nodded in response, whistled for your horse to follow, and rode off as quickly as he could. The ride was definitely painful, but you managed to hold out long enough until you got back to camp, where Arthur had taken you to your tent, which thankfully had some privacy. He left you alone for all of two minutes when he came back with all the necessities he needed to fix you up proper.
You lay there on your cot, and as you tried to look up at him to speak, all you could do was groan in pain until he placed his hand gently on the back of your neck, having you sit up slightly. “Here, take a shot of whiskey, it’ll help a bit. I gotta dig the bullet out and cauterize the wound.”
After hearing all that and swallowing the burning liquid, your consciousness was in and out, very hazy, until you saw black and just heard the sound of Arthur’s voice.
Hours later, you awoke with a dry hoarseness in your throat, your eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the low lamplight that had been inside your tent, and you looked up to see Arthur beside your cot. He already reached for the deerskin and placed it to your lips. You drank greedily at the water until you felt satisfied enough to pull away, coughing from the coldness.
“There you are,” Arthur greeted softly, removing the deerskin from your grasp. “You’re gonna be fine, just gotta stay off the leg for a while,” he commented. “You feelin’ alright?” He leaned over and dunked a cloth into a bucket of water, then wring it out, and placed it gently over your forehead.
You looked over at him and smiled softly. “Didn’t know you were so caring,” you joked softly, chuckling to yourself.
Arthur waved his hand dismissively and scoffed. “Had my fair share of bullets is all, makin’ sure you don’t pull a stunt like that again, you hear?”
You nodded and a small smile crept across your face, you couldn’t help but stare up at him and admire the man. He acted as if he didn’t care much about others, that he wasn’t any better than a stone-cold killer, but here he was worrying about you and taking care of you. Usually, it was left up to one of the women who were more well-versed in bedside manner, like Miss Grimshaw, but Arthur had insisted on your behalf. Naturally, he didn’t tell you this, it was Mary-Beth who informed you when she came in to visit while Arthur had gone to refill the bucket and grab some more medical supplies from Strauss’s wagon.
“Oh it’s been real sweet, he ain’t left unless he needed to get somethin’ for you,” Mary-Beth beamed. “Almost like somethin’ straight out of one of my books, he’s been real particular, too.”
“Of what?” You questioned.
“He hasn’t let anyone other than me and Tilly into your tent, even was on edge when Charles offered to help.”
This information made your cheeks feel warm, he was practically babying you back to health, you’d never seen this side of him before. “Wow, I would have never expected Arthur Morgan to be at my bed-side,” you teased as you looked up at the young woman.
She nodded, still all smiles. “Well, I hear him comin’ so that’s my cue, better leave you to it or else he’ll kick me out,” she joked and stood up from the chair. “You feel better, and holler if you need anythin’ from us.”
“Thanks, Mary-Beth.”
She nodded her head and left the tent, then was quickly replaced by Arthur, who set the bucket down beside his chair and had a bowl of stew in the other hand. “You think you can eat yet?”
You hummed in response and wet your dry lips with your tongue. “I can try if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It would, now here,” he offered as he slowly placed his hand beneath your shoulders, giving you a little push to help you sit up.
“Heard you’ve been fussin’ over me since we got back, that true?”
Arthur sighed, knowing damn well Mary-Beth was going to say something to you at some point. “It ain’t a big deal, no big drama,” he waved it off. “Just makin’ sure you’re gonna be okay, which you are, by the way.” He held the bowl until you were ready to take it and try to feed yourself, but still leaned forward in case he needed to grab it from you. “Just rest up and you’ll be right as rain soon enough.”
You grabbed the bowl and smiled over at Arthur, the adoration in your eyes quite apparent. “Arthur… thank you, I know you’re gonna think it’s no big deal, but it is to me. Couldn’t have made it without you,” you remarked. “I owe you-”
“You don’t owe me nothin’, well, except maybe one thing.”
Your head perked up and you offered him a smile. “Anything.”
With that, his mouth curled into a wide smile, thoughts running through his head as if he could have said so many things, but those thoughts would be shared later. For now, he figured he should settle on the obvious. “Promise me next time you ain’t gonna go runnin’ with MacGuire, you need a job done, you ask me.” He sat back in the chair and offered a lopsided grin.
Thankfully you didn’t bring the spoon up to your mouth; you’d laughed and almost dropped the bowl. “Sure thing, Arthur, anything for you.” Your eyes locked with his and you couldn’t help but feel like you owed him more than that, but for now, you owed him to get better and listen for once. You’d show him how grateful you were when you could use your leg again.
“Hey, Arthur?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks again,” you said softly.
The man just chuckled and lit up a cigarette after getting your permission. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan drabble#arthur morgan writing#writing drabble#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 arthur morgan#red dead writings#tinalbion writings#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#gender neutral reader#comfort#slight angst
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He'd wear 38"x32" Levi's, the dark blue 514 ones. White tees and flannel and work boots. He'd work in construction or park rangering or something, and when he comes home at the end of the day, and you hug him, your fingertips barely touch behind his back. It's those kind of hugs where you do a squish and you can feel like soft yet firm comfort between your arms. Warmth. He would grumble about how he stinks and needs a shower, but he always smells good for some reason. Like him and the outdoors, balanced perfectly. And once you've held him long enough, he kisses your forehead and tells you how much he appreciates everything you do, even though he's out there doing hard labor. You'd kiss him back, savoring the feeling of his full lips between yours, then you'd shower together. Just like every night, you enjoy a damn good meal and dessert, doing whatever makes you happy and relaxed after, until you both hit the hay that night. Because he's just a good, honest, hard-working guy. And you're an amazing, beautiful, and caring companion.
#rdr2#rdr2 imagines#is this x reader?#yeah#arthur morgan x reader#minific#red dead redemption 2#red dead#rdr2 posting#big boah arthur morgan#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur#gn!reader#writing#idk where this came from#chubby arthur morgan#rdr2 modern au#rdr2 drabble#drabble fic
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Do you ever wonder about a cowboy who maybe was Arthur Morgan?
Not him, per se. Maybe not a gang member, maybe without lovers, maybe with life lived into old age, maybe with more happiness and freedom.
But someone who wrote cursive in a journal about things big and small to him.
Someone who drew things he found interesting and observed nature around him.
Learned that sometimes herbs make for good cookin’.
Caught something and said, “You, sir, are a fish.”
Sang quietly to himself on horseback.
Sat down to dangle his legs from a high rock.
Finally came into town, dirty and unshaven, seeking drink right away and immediately hitting on someone or starting a bar fight.
Realized the good days are over, and it’s now time to act.
Discovered that in the end, one must forget glory.
RDR2 makes me think a lot about the countless people throughout history who once stood on the same square foot you’re on now.
So — who’s to say Arthur didn’t truly exist out there, one day or another?
#huh?#arthur morgan#arthur morgan rdr2#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#historical Drabble#I think a lot about history#and I think often of if someone else stood where I stand now
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when
summary: the when's and development of your feelings for a certain typhoon.
warnings: angst? more bittersweet really
A/N: honestly, this was a quick drabble after finishing notes for class :D since it was just a quick idea, i didn't really develop into a whole backstory and stuff without getting ahead of myself lmao but angst? yes(my first attempt) also was listening to tame impala's "For the First Time" as I wrote this so that kinda explains alot, enjoy!
When you first started gaining feelings for Vash, it was a night filled with thought and contemplation from your own head. Was this right? He was your best friend for god sake! No, you can't like him. It's not that you didn't want to, you couldn't. Your mind told you to hold back, to stop whatever was developing in you about the typhoon. And as much as you didn't want to accept it, you were in denial. The pair of you have traveled together for so long but you never got tired of the mischievous glint in his eyes, and the toothy smile he would shoot at you. You found it..cute.
In your own words, Vash was too considerate for a world that put their back to him, and you found it admirable.
You clenched the jacket you wore tightly as the snores of your caravan filled the night behind a large rock you sat behind. Maybe you needed the priest to pray for you...
When you started accepting your feelings for him, it felt as if your stomach constantly hurt every time you'd stand too near to him. And honestly, Vash had been the first crush you've had in a real long time and that flustered you a bit more. Whenever he'd put his hands on your shoulders, the familiar sensation of electricity ran up your back to which he'd curiously ask why your face had flushed red. Were you sick? He recommended a day off from working around with Wolfwood. Of course he did. when he walked away, you couldn't help but quickly cover your face with your hands.
When you noticed the difference, it kind of...hurt. The fact that he had become more affectionate with Meryl, seeking to find her side and accompany her more than he had with you. Was that a hand-hold? You felt a minor tinge in your heart. But that was okay! You guys were still best friends! Why were you feeling some type of way about it? You should be supporting him! You try to shrug the thought off and continue walking behind them as that little toothy smile you loved and had thought was reserved for just you, was given to another. You smiled on to the both of them, ignoring the growing ache in your chest.
When Wolfwood finally noticed the change in your behavior whenever you gazed at the pair, you had already fallen deep into the heavy pressure that resided in your heart. You didn't want to stop Vash from going after Meryl. What kind of person would you be if you did? Wolfwood confronts you as you had temporarily stepped away one night as everyone took camp in the dry deserts of No Man's Land. And as the more questions Wolfwood asked you, the more your throat felt as if it wanted to burn. And it wasn't until he asked a singular question, that you broke. You sobbed as the ache in your chest got unbearable and so heavy your stomach dropped to the floor and the familiar feeling of wanting to throw up arose. Wolfwood sighs and takes a seat next to you, rubbing your back as you leaned onto him for support.
"Is it needle-noggin and Meryl?"
When Vash and Meryl got officially together and Vash had come to break the news to you, you couldn't help but give him a pained smile, not even attempting to speak in fear of a tear falling out. and he asks what's wrong? Were you feeling okay? Did you need help? And he gives you that same toothy-nervous grin when you shake your head in fake reassurance.
oh how you missed that smile.
#the other wommeeennnnn#trigun imagines#vash x reader#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun angst#trigun stampede x reader#drabble#quick write#vash imagine#my curious attempt at writing a inch of angst#is this even angst?#more bittersweet honestly#u see wolfwood wouldnt do me dirty like this yall#nvm he kinda would LMAO#i still love vash tho#vash rights but not really in this drabble#should i right a redemption drabble to this?#nahhhh?#or maybe?(insert big eye here)
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