#rdr2 imagine

[emmcfrxst]

arthur is definitely the type of guy to say “let me ask my wife” whenever someone says something which doesn’t even involve his wife in any way like he is such a husband ykwim? once he is in love that man is infatuated fr fr

SOOOOOO TRUE he is SUCH a wife guy he will take literally any opportunity to remind everyone that you’re his wife pls 😭 he uses the term more often than he does your name when in conversation with other ppl he’s like “oh yeah my wife—“ and everyone at camp just sighs heavily because here he fuckin goes again

#i was literally abt to make a post saying how much of a wife guy arthur is we r connected spiritually #blvck-heretic #answered #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 fluff #rdr2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 fluff #red dead redemption 2 imagine

[holycryptid]

low honour!arthur morgan x virgin!reader

this is really just one long-winded fic idea that i need to speak into existence.

tags: literally save a horse ride a cowboy, afab!reader (feminine pronouns, descriptions, and names used), religious topics/imagery, obsessive!arthur, virginity kink, age gap relationship, loss of virginity, corruption kink

Reader is in her early 20s, privileged to come from a family with wealth from their heritage and inheritance in the oil industry.

The era of cowboys and outlaws has started to become a thing of the past from the shifts in climate and industry throughout the country. Reader has resided in Saint Denis her whole life, never needing to worry about gangs, outlaws, or even cowboys.

She has never even seen a cowboy before, but she’s heard stories; none of them particularly pretty. The presence of law enforcement throughout the streets and the sheer distance of Saint Denis from other towns is enough to deter most of them from causing trouble.

Functionally, she should never be compatible with a cowboy.

Her father has always preached about her waiting for a “good, proper man” that can marry her into another family with obscene wealth. And so, she protects her chastity and innocence just as she is expected to—just as her father expects her to.

Hell, she doesn’t even know how to ride a horse! Her father believes that riding horses is beneath them, so anywhere she wants to go is accommodated by a stagecoach.

Cut to: reader is accompanying her father on a trip to Annesburg to discuss potential investments in the mining industry. He hates leaving her alone. She knows he worries that she’ll get “up to no good”.

Her father has chosen one of their more comfortable, flashy stagecoaches for the longer ride, giving him more storage for his financial documents and whatnot. A perfect target for gangs.

And, inevitably, they get robbed.

The robbers’ faces are all concealed by hats and bandanas, and one of them ties her arms behind her back with careful hands before guiding her to her knees on the wet grass.

The man who tied her up stays close by her side, and she can see her father pleading for his life to another man who’s not listening.

“Are you a cowboy?” Are the first words she says to him, not a note of fear in her doll-like eyes that make her look so fuckable in this position with her on her knees next to him, dress billowing out around her form.

He looks down at her confused. “Uh, once, I suppose.” His voice is a little muffled by the black bandana hanging over his nose and mouth.

She can see that his hair is so long that it starts to curl up and out at the ends under his hat.

“Well, you got the hat. And the horse,” she reasons, wondering if she’s truly meeting a cowboy under circumstances she thought she’d never be in.

He looks to her again, left hand causally hooked in the leather of his belt as he waits for the rest of his gang to finish up. “I guess you’re right.” He tips his head to her in agreement.

“Leave them! These people are leeches. Let the wolves decide their fate.” A man with a deep, booming voice announces atop his white horse.

Now she starts to panic.

She pulls against the rope around her wrists, looking up to the man who tied her as he begins to walk toward his horse. “Wait! Mister, please! Please don’t. Please,” she yells to him.

He looks back to her, then his horse, then back to her again. “Hold on.” He signals to the man on the white horse before walking back over to her.

“Take me home. Please just take me home, mister. I won’t say nothing, I promise, but just take me home and I’ll give you anything you want,” she begs to him.

He sighs, but not out of annoyance or hesitation for her request. He sighs because he has no idea what she has just done to herself.

He places his bandana over her eyes and leads her to his horse. He unties her hands and lets her blindly climb into the saddle, legs shaking from unfamiliarity.

When she settles, she blindly grips onto the saddle horn for dear life, wishing her father let her ride at least once in her life so she wouldn’t appear so delicate in this situation. The man chuckles off to the side before mounting up behind her. She notices the saddle is not quite meant for two as he pushes in tightly against her ass, seemingly not even concerned about it.

This is probably the closest she’s ever been to a man.

“Where to, miss?” The man leans forward against her back to grab the reigns, caging her in with his arms.

She tells him in a quiet voice, and he kicks against his horse, setting them into motion.

When they arrive at her French two-story home on the outskirts of Saint Denis, the man dismounts swiftly, hand circling her wrist before saying, “Swing your right leg over and I’ll help you down.”

She slowly brings herself around, feeling the man lock his hands around her waist to guide her to the ground.

He tugs at the knot holding the bandana around her eyes, and she doesn’t let herself turn around until she feels he’s had enough time to tie it back around his face.

“Thank you, mister,” she whispers.

He tips his hat and leaves without another word.

In the following week, the man watches her after the sun sets. He watches her pray before bed and change into her silk nightgown, waiting for the night he can maybe finally see the more explicit side of her. But it never comes.

She’s perfect.

Eventually they cross paths again one day. The man purposefully chooses to ditch the bandana, too.

“I don’t think my daddy would appreciate me talking to someone like you,” she admits slyly as she continues her trek into Saint Denis.

The man follows beside her on his horse, left arm lazily hanging down by his side. “Someone like me? And who’s that?” he asks, a slight smile also on his lips.

“A cowboy. An outlaw,” she says, sneaking a glance up to him as his horse steps in time with her down the path.

“Well your daddy ain’t here.”

“No, mister.”

“Come for a ride then.”

And that’s how it’s starts for them. He introduces himself as they ride to his gangs camp, and she complains about how sore her legs are when they arrive.

“You don’t ride?” Arthur asks, intending for it to be a joke.

“That was my second time. Ever,” she laughs.

And that’s when he understands what type of lady he’s dealing with, so he goes for it.

“Maybe you should practice on me sometime,” he remarks, untacking his horse.

She wonders if she heard him right. “Uh, mister—”

“Arthur,” he corrects.

In that moment, she realizes he can teach her everything her father has kept from her, show her everything he had protected her from. Throw away the innocence and chastity and truly experience what life should be. But Arthur doesn’t know the entirety of her sheltered life. He needs someone like him.

“Arthur…I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” she admits. “I…I’ve never been with no one. Ever.”

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Just as my daddy said I should be. Until marriage.”

And Arthur makes it his mission to make her experience her own sexuality in its completeness, so he starts off slow.

He would always touch, never breaching her or letting her do anything to him. The focus was always on her.

Her virginity and pureness made him conflicted: he wanted to ruin her in all the ways she has never been, but he wants to tease and rile her up and watch her experience all the sexual frustrations for the first time.

It was cute. The more bold he got with his touches, the more bold she got in trying to take what she wanted. He would take her behind a tree and slowly lift up the dainty material of her summer dress, gathering it in his left hand as he used his right to rub her clit through her underwear while he licked and sucked along her neck, careful not to leave marks.

She would get weak so fast, Arthur could barely handle how virgin her body truly was. She would grip onto the leather straps of the rifles hanging down his back, trying to force his hand harder and faster.

However, the first time he made her cum was an accident.

He confidently placed a gentle kiss on her lips while they were alone in his tent—he just wanted to see how she would react.

She leaned in and returned it, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him down to her. He pulled her into his lap, laying them down on his cot as they started making out like a long-distance high-school couple.

Arthur mindlessly starts grinding against her, ignoring the clothing separating them. She doesn’t realize what she’s feeling as Arthur’s hard cock slides against her clothed pussy.

Her orgasm just kind of happens.

Arthur watches her shake and twitch under him as he pulls away to see what happened. The wet spot on her underwear is all the evidence he needs.

Ever since, she’s been insatiable. She wants Arthur to show her everything. Teach her everything. She wants to feel everything if that means she can cum like that again.

Around the campfire she’d sit on his lap, tightly circling her hips against him until he’d grow hard before stopping. Then she’d do it again.

Arthur would mostly ignore her teasing. He didn’t want her to know how much she was driving him up the wall, so he’d retaliate in a way that was ten times worse then whatever she did just to prove a point about her innocence, how she knows so little compared to him.

The first time they fuck, he makes the horse riding joke again: “I’m sure this’ll be good practice for you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a laugh, rubbing his cock through her folds as she straddles him. He’s built up her confidence so much, it’s all been leading to this.

He’d guide her up and down, back and forth, testing her body to see what she likes. Seeing what spot makes her tremble.

He finds it. “Fuck, there it is,” Arthur groans.

She can’t even think. She doesn’t know what to think. She’s doing everything her father told her not to.

Premarital sex.

Premarital sex with a cowboy.

“Oh, Lord, forgive me,” she prays, her pussy sliding so perfectly along him as he grips her hips harder.

Eventually, he’d eat her out in her childhood bedroom. Her father sleeping in the room above her own, separated by the thin wood of the floor. She arches against the bed, and her eyes meet the iron cross hung above her bed frame.

She’d often ask him to leave the hat on, and he’d laugh, pleased that she is slowly adopting sexual preferences and interests.

She was his perfect, sophisticated woman that he was free to defile and poison with his desires.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan one shot #arthur morgan oneshot #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 smut #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #red dead redemption 2 fanfic

[ahqkas]

HEART TO HEART ; arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuela, charles smith

SYNOPSIS! how love feels like with him

In the vast expanse of the Wild West, loving ARTHUR MORGAN feels like a journey of ragged battles, a tale woven with threats of wounds and roughness that winds through the wild landscapes and starlit nights. To love Arthur is to stand by his side through the hardship of his outlaw life, to not be afraid of being hurt and to cherish the moments you’ve got to be blessed with.

Affection with Arthur doesn’t come easy, but is expressed through simple actions amidst the clash of your worlds. The reassuring touch of his hands against your shoulders that lingers to the skin of your fingertips. The warmth of his gaze that follows you anywhere you go, casting a light of protection over your body and soul. The genuine smile he gives you over a game of blackjack beneath you or a flickering campfire that’s between you two, the smile only you seem to receive.

Arthur cares fiercely and if you were to end up hurt by someone’s hands under his watch, it’d be over his dead body.

Love with JOHN MARSTON comes roughly at first but despite his stubborn nature, he truly loves you through thin and thick. He’s all teeth and claws whenever there’s a sign of danger near his loved ones. He’s not a flawless man, no. Stubborn and impulsive, that’s what he is at most, yet courage and loyalty bloom in his heart.

The outlaw consistently puts himself into harm’s way to ensure your safety and well-being. Although he often doubts himself on this one, he won’t give up without a fight.

To love John is to accept his soul and believe that whenever action he makes it’s for the best.

Like the unpredictable beat of hooves on a dusty road, love with JAVIER ESCUELLA puts you both through a rocky story, as dramatic as promised. The horse can be agitated, its hooves urgent. But the horse can be calm, its hooves steady. Javier’s love comes determined.

A sanctuary is a place of refuge or safety where people can retreat to find peace, reflection, and protection, whenever it’s within the reach of a physical space or within their own consciousness. His care is your sanctuary, sheltering you from the outside’s wrath. He brings out the good in you and your mind feels at ease whenever he warms up your heart.

Javier’s love speaks volume, a language specifically made to become understood by you only. Warm hugs, a gentle caress of your cheek, intertwined fingers. It’s non verbal, but you understand it all too well. Carrying your stuff, saving some of the warm stew for you, cleaning your weapons. You don’t need words to communicate.

A blooming flower with its unfolding petals brings out the same feeling in you as the love of CHARLES SMITH. Like the flower, your love with Charles went through the same process of growth and now you’re left cherishing the outcome of the nature. Every petal shows a page of depth, intimacy, and connection you feel between you.

His empathy and understanding makes him a safe haven for you, the comfort that hangs to him calls for you one too many times. He listens without judgment and offers kindness.

Charles goes out of his way to help you out in any situation, whether it’s by taking care of you after a rather close call or stash a dozen of poisoned arrows to your bunch, always lending you a protective hand.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan headcanons #john marston x reader #john marston x you #john marston imagine #john marston headcanons #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x you #javier escuella headcanons #charles smith x reader #charles smith x you #charles smith headcanons #rdr2 #rdr2 x you #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2

[mlmxreader]

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

『••✎••』

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

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

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

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

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want your jacket back?”

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

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

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

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

“Mind if I…”

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

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

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

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

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

#mlem writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x yn #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x gender neutral reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan oneshot #arthur morgan one shot #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x you #rdr2 x yn #rdr2 imagine #rdr2

[evilcowgirl]

Relationship Headcannons

pairings: arthur, charles, javier (x reader)

a/n: was thinking about these today while listening to fiona apple hope y'all enjoy !!

warnings: nsfw

Arthur

he has low self confidence and doesn't ever really feel worthy of your time or attention, so he'll never ask for it directly. still, you can tell when he's missing you because he's a bit obvious.

"Wha'cha doing sitting out here all by yourself?" "Oh nothin' you just seemed busy. . ." "You want some company?" "Only if you'll have me."

he's a bit distant physically most of the time, not because he isn't crazy about you but because thats how he's always been, but he loves when you initiate any kind of intimacy (kisses, soft touches, just wanting to be held) he always reciprocates

compliments are nearly almost met with either objection or you ending up undressed he has no medium !!

nearly goes insane over your safety, he never really thought you were fit for a group like this and wishes he could hide you away somewhere safe. he's the reason you're barely ever out on jobs. he likes knowing you're safe and waiting on him when you get back.

sometimes after a job or an outing he comes back even more brute than usual and that oftentimes means you two need to head back to his tent and be alone for a bit while he gets his mind clear.

sometimes pushes you away when he's stressed but you can see right through his rudeness. when he's upset you hold your ground until he gives in and tells you what's bothering you no matter what he says about wanting you to leave him be.

"I think you might know me better than myself darlin'."

Charles

his worst fear is scaring you, its the last thing he ever wants to do and he finds himself constantly checking that you're not frightened

after being on a job with him where you had to watch him do something rather intense he'd check up on you just to be sure

"You know I had to do that right? I didn't want to." , "I didn't want you seeing that." , "You're not scared are you?"

he loves when you sit on his lap. It makes him feel warm inside. he's really sweet like that and love's having your bodies close.

soft dom.

favorite thing in the world is to watch you ride him, it gets him off more than anything else to see you pleasuring yourself above him while he still has the control to set the pace.

he only really speaks when he has something to say and that's something you learn to understand. sometimes you can talk forever without him saying a word, just glances and nods. you know that that doesn't mean he isn't listening, in-fact he's the best listener you've ever met.

EXTREMELY flirty when he's drunk or even just tipsy. he's really good with his words and has you hiding your face from embarrassment at all the attention.

i think he likes thigh riding i don't have any reasoning for it but i'm right he loves it when you ride his thigh cause he thinks its cute.

he takes you out hunting for small things like rabbits and squirrels when you feel up to it. he congratulates you like you've just done the most incredible thing ever during it. he likes to pick you up in a "yass u did it !!!" type of way and it makes you swoon.

Javier

he compliments you in the most beautiful ways and you wonder where he learned to talk to women because jesus christ !!

he has tons of stories and it feels like he's lived 1000 more lives than you. even with everything he's been through he still has a young soul and you find that endearing.

he gets a weird sense of pride teaching you things (and not just survival related things hes lowkey a freak)

he's really attached to his clothes, they're like an extension on him and so naturally he only trusts you to clean them.

he has a knife kink, this is basically cannon. he'd never force something like that on you if you weren't into it but he'd try to introduce it to you in the most non threatening way possible.

"It's just my knife, see? Yeah see? There's nothing to be scared of, have I ever hurt you?"

he comes to you with all of his worries whether they're something you two can laugh off together or something more serious. he trusts you with his emotions more than anyone else and he was more of them than he lets on. he likes to lay his head down in your lap while you play with his hair. it's the easiest way to get him talking about whatever's on his mind.

he's possessive and jealous just about to to a fault. he all but brags about you being his to anyone who will listen, not only because you're beautiful but because he's genuinely so proud of you. the less heartwarming side of this is the possessiveness that comes with it, if he even has an inkling that another man has interest in you he doesn't hesitate to press a revolver to them or his knife to their throat.

"hate" sex. he likes to really get the point across that you're his to you and everyone else. he leaves hickies and bruises that ache and last for days when he's done with you.

he's got a soft spot for you that he's not afraid to show to the rest of the gang, kissing you up against trees or clasping hands with you regardless who's watching.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #charles smith #charles smith x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #arthur morgan imagine #javier escuella imagine #arthur morgan headcanons #javier escuella headcanons #charles smith imagine #rdr2 imagine

[sapphic-pikachu]

Shooting Your Shot

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 3.4K

Summary: Arthur makes good on his promise to teach you how to shoot. You struggle with this time alone with him due to your seemingly unrequited feelings for him.

Warnings: sfw, guns, shooting, bullets, me not knowing anything about guns so being intentionally vague about them, reader and Arthur are both fools, kissing, Arthur and reader are touched starved, physical affection

A/N: @sharinkashaf Fucking please let Arthur teach reader how to shoot. ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for the idea for this one! also thank you for all the love on my first one shot that I posted the other day, I will be working on a part 2 for it! please if you have any ideas or things you want to see me write for Arthur let me know! once again, warning that it has been years since I’ve last written anything so it’s not perfect

You smirked into your coffee mug as the high pitched whines of Sean’s complaints sounded around camp. You had been half sitting on one of the camps tables, watching as Tilly had defeated Sean in dominoes for what must have been the fifth time in a row. Despite Sean’s insistence that the younger girl must have been cheating, or was secretly a professional dominos player, his words were met with rolling of eyes and laughter as the games continued.

There was a good mood sunken over the camp that morning. It had seemed like you had all reached a string of good luck - for once, you didn’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The donation box was full, people were smiling amongst themselves and even the coffee didn’t taste as bad as it normally did.

You knew who this all was thanks to. For weeks, Arthur had been slaving himself, constantly out of camp and on missions, scouting out new resources and pulling through with every plan Dutch had given him. Your heart fluttered at the thought of him, but you willed yourself not to turn to look for him, even though you had noted his absence near the centre of camp all morning. Silently, you prayed that wherever he was, he was able to take advantage of the peacefulness in camp that he had helped bring about.

A hand settled on your shoulder, causing you to jump and loose grip of your coffee mug. With one hand still on your shoulder, Arthur swooped in and grabbed your mug before it could clatter to the ground. Speak of the devil, you thought - you didn’t dare say it out loud, not wanting the man to know how at home he was in your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” he said, his body so close to yours’ that it felt like he was whispering directly into your ear.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder. Your coffee mug and what little coffee remained in it was forgotten as Arthur set it on the table you rested by.

“S’alright. Didn’t startle me too bad.” you replied, craning your head to look up at him from your close proximity. Arthur just stared back at you, seemingly in thought.

“You need something?” You asked, suddenly aware that any moment longer in this position might have you spontaneously combust into flames.

Arthur blinked, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. His lack of touch made the spot on your shoulder where his hand had sat feel cold.

“Was just wondering if you’d be free. Shooting practice. Like I’d promised you.”

You remembered this promise vividly. You had been certain that he hadn’t though. It had been weeks since that talk. You had been running with the gang for close to a year now. While you were good at pickpocketing and scamming out drunk men, you were deeply aware that your gun work needed immense practice. There had been more than a few close calls that frightened you by now, ones that would have frightened you less had you been more skilled in shooting. Your skills were passable - you could pull the trigger on the gun enough times to scare off more passive enemies but you were slow to draw and even slower to hit where you wanted to. After a few drinks round the camp fire, you had confessed this insecurity to Arthur. You weren’t sure why him. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he was the best gunman in camp by far. Maybe because you were hopelessly in love with him.

You took a deep breath to try simmer down the swell of emotion in your chest. He had drunk that night too - you were certain that his promise to make you a better shooter was just the alcohol speaking.

“We’ll make a proper gunslinger of you yet, darlin’.” he had slurred, before chugging another sip of whiskey and passing you the bottle. When you drank from the bottle after him, you did it slowly: it wasn’t just the whiskey you’d wanted a taste of now.

“I’m free. I’ll just go get my horse ready-”

“Ain’t no need. We won’t go far, we can just go on mine if it’s alright with you.” he interrupted, breaking his stare from you to peer off at nothing beside him. His hand rubbed at where his shirt collar touched his neck as he waited for your response. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“S’alright with me. Where we going?” At your confirmation, he began to walk off with you beside him towards where his mare stood.

“I set up some targets in the clearing east of ‘ere earlier this morning. Empty enough we’ll not be heard, but still close enough to camp that we won’t be bothered by anyone,” He replied, setting up a layer of blanket just behind his saddle on his horse, “You alright sitting behind?”

You would sit anywhere as long as it let you be close to him. You didn’t tell him that - you just hummed a yes and watched as he pulled himself up onto his horse, sitting slightly farther forward than he usually would.

He held out his hand and you accepted it, trying to ignore how small you felt in his grasp. You have yourself a boost with one leg in the empty stirrups, and flung your other leg over the horse.

“Sitting alright?” He asked. Your hand was still in his, his finger closed over yours with his thumb gently dragging up and down your hand in a way that weirdly comforted you. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but it was increasingly difficult for you not to.

“Yeah, m’fine.” You responded. You felt like your whole body was on fire. Your chest was pressed up against his back, your knees pressing against his upper thighs to secure your place on the horse.

Arthur’s thumb stopped moving as if it suddenly occurred to him that he was still holding your hand. He released it, grabbing his horse’s rope and grunting a response back to you. With your hands now free, you placed them underneath his bent arms, gingerly clutching onto his waist. If your touch had bothered him, Arthur did not say.

Your journey to the clearing was uneventful and quiet. An uneasy anxiety settled over your stomach. You had wished that Arthur could have a day of peace, but here he was, having to teach you how to shoot because you were too bad of a shot to protect yourself. You felt bad that you had pressured him into this. You felt bad that he was always made to look after everyone in camp all of the time. You felt bad that despite this, all you could think about was the feeling of his stomach underneath your fingertips as your arms wrapped around his waist.

His horse came to a stop and you could see what Arthur had been doing all morning. Crates had been stacked up around a tree, the various heights of the crates displaying different sizes and shapes of tins and glass bottles. The bottles had been placed in the branches of the tree itself, with shards of glass strung up, hanging down from the tree by strands of a thin rope. The sun shone down on the tree, reflecting the colours of the glass onto the ground, a mirage of different colours.

“Wow. This looks great Arthur. Like a proper shootin’ range an’ all.” You said to him as he stood on the grass beside you, helping you down from his horse.

“S’nothin’. Just took a lil’ time this morning.” He looked away from you, pulling his hand away from yours once your feet were steady on the ground. He rubbed at his neck again.

“It ain’t nothing, Arthur. Must’ve took some time. Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry, I know you got better things to be doing.” It was getting hard to swallow with how full your heart felt.

Arthur turned his head back to you at your words. His brow furrowed as he began to speak.

“You don’t got nothing to be sorry about. There ain’t nothing better for me to do but to spend time with you.” Arthur froze slightly at the end of his sentence, as if he had said something he didn’t mean to say. A slight blush spread across his face and he looked away from you again.

You reached out bravely and touched his upper arm.

“Thank you, Arthur. Truly.”

Arthur nodded before turning and getting his pistol out of his saddle bag behind you. Upon a further glance, you realised it wasn’t his usual pistol at all. It was new you thought, a shiny Schofield Revolver with a pearl handle and gold metal. Something was engraved onto the frame, but in the reflection of the sun you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Arthur passed you the gun and a hand full of bullets, indicating for you to get the gun ready. Thankfully, this was something you didn’t need taught - after finishing, you hand the gun back to Arthur where he inspects it and hums out a response.

He passes you back the gun and begins walking closer to the tree. As you follow him, you note that he’s created a guideline in the grass of where the stand, with another stack of creates beside it. He sits down on the crates and nods for you to stand in position on the grass.

“I just want to see what we’re working with first - aim for the glass bottles on the second row if you can,” He says, leaning back on the crate and taking out an apple from his bag. He starts to cut it into slices with his knife, eating it piece by piece.

You hold the gun in front of you with two hands. You’re trembling slightly. You hate the fact that he’s watching you. More than that, you hate the fact that he’s watching you and you don’t know what he’s thinking.

The sound and recoil of the gun makes you jump slightly. You miss any bottle completely, the bullet skimming into the vacant air beside the crates. You shoot again, less shocked by the recoil this time, but still an awful shot. Again, you shoot, this time hitting the corner of one of the crates. It’s still no where near where your aiming, but you’re hitting something so you can’t help but feel slightly proud. You shoot, again, again, again. You manage to hit a tin can four objects down from the bottle you aim for on the second row. Your ears are ringing in your head and your hands feel tight from their grip around the gun. From behind you, you hear Arthur come towards you from his place on the crate. He’s good at going unnoticed when he wants to despite his large size, but now, he makes his presence known to you, his chest skimming your back.

“Right foot backwards, steady yourself.” He’s leaning his head down to speak directly to your ear. Your heart beats a little bit quicker but you follow his request, moving your right leg slightly backwards till it connects with his. You position your foot right in front of his. His left leg adjusts to settle right behind your left one. Your breathing gets a bit quicker also.

“Need you completely straight. Always facing towards where your aiming to match up your sights.” His voice rings in your head. Need you, need you, need you. His hands land on either side of your waist, swivelling you slightly to face you completely towards the tree, your legs staying in the same position supported by the feeling of his behind you. You think his hands stay on your waist a few seconds longer than they should do.

He guides his hands up to your shoulders. He moves them slightly too, more gentle than anyone who’s ever met him would ever expect him to be capable of. Except you. From the day you’d met Arthur, you knew exactly what he would be capable of, despite his insistence that he was a bad man. But you knew: a bad man would not be spending his day holding you so close and so gently like this for no benefit of his own.

He grabs each of your hands with his own from underneath your arms. He’s holding them up, supporting you, slightly stretching forward now to position the gun in front of you. His front is fully pressed up against you. You can feel it now - his own heartbeat is just as quick as yours.

His head is resting against yours, his neck craning down to adjust to your smaller size in comparison to his.

Together, as one, you lift the gun to aim at the bottle on the second row. His finger wraps around yours to guide you into pulling the trigger. He speaks again, so close to you he’s almost apart of you, his voice meant for nothing else except for speaking to you.

“Breathe in as you aim. Keeps you still,” You do as he tells you, feeling his own chest expand behind you and you breath together, “Shoot on the exhale. You got this sweetheart.”

You exhale at the same time as him, the heaviness of your breaths cancelled out by the loud bang as the shot rings out. You hear a splinter and crack as your bullet collides with its target. Not dead centre, but you’ve hit it, and that’s good enough. If you were so preoccupied on steadying your heartbeat at the feeling of Arthur pressing against you, you might have cried out in triumph.

“Good girl.” Arthur whispers to you. You aren’t sure if it’s the sound of the bullets ringing in your ears or his voice anymore. You know that because you can feel his heartbeat in his chest behind you, he can feel yours too. You know that the smirk you feel spread across his face as he presses against the side of your head is because he can feel how his praise made your heart skip another beat.

You keep shooting like that; Arthur guiding you with his own body and you hitting every target every time. After a while Arthur pulls his arms back from yours. You almost deflate at his absence but he doesn’t remove himself from your back. Instead he places his hands on your waist and tells you to keep going.

When you shoot again, Arthur’s lack of guidance is noticeable - but not extremely. You’re better than you were, the bullet landing a centimetre off from the tin can you now aim for. You shoot again creating a whole just off the centre of the can. You shoot again, the bullet disappearing seamlessly into the previous hole. Arthur squeezes at your hips as you grin.

It continues on like that: you shoot, more often than not hitting the target spot on or hitting it on your second try, and Arthur, a constant behind you squeezing his hands in congratulations on your waist, inching them closer and closer until eventually he has almost enveloped you completely in a backwards hug. He murmurs appreciation every so often, and your heart has stopping beating a little quicker every time this happens. In fact, his mere presence has made your constant heartbeat so fast already that there is little change.

The gun clicks, the chamber empty. You’re scared to breathe, worried that any sudden move will scare Arthur out of your arms, like a prey spotting it’s hunter. But it’s Arthur who breaks the stillness, removing his hands from your waist to bring your arms down to your chest, the gun still clutched between your hands. His arms come to clutch around your waist again, circling you completely as his hands meet by your stomach. You feel him swallow heavily. In this moment, there is nothing else in the world but him behind you and his hands round your waist.

You hold the gun in one hand and with the other you gently place it over his hands on your stomach: you’re scared that as you spin in place on your feet to face him that he’ll move away, so you hold his hands in place.

You can’t meet his eyes, looking at his chest and downwards as you place the gun from your hand into his holster around his waist. It’s your turn to swallow heavily now.

As you raise your gaze to look at his face, you find him already staring at you. You are still, desperately away of his hands, now settled low on the small of your back.

“That was great work there.” He says, not breaking eye contact with you as his voice barely breaks past a whisper.

“I had a great teacher.” You whisper back. He smiles at that, and you smile back as though you’ve just shared a secret meant just for the two of you. As the blue of his eyes brighten in the sun, you think that maybe you have.

His head tilts downwards, just barely enough to notice it. But you notice. You’ve always noticed every detail about Arthur, just as he’s always noticed you.

“Please.” You ask him, voice quiet and pleading as you break his stare to glance towards his lips.

He answers.

You’re practically on your toes, supported by his tightened grip around your back. His mouth connects to yours, gently and unsure at first. You hand comes up to rest against the side of his face, the other holding on to the collar of his shirt, brushing against his neck. At this, his kiss deepens, pulling you tighter against him. You use your grip on his collar to do the same, pulling yourself as close as you can into his chest.

After the moment passes, you both pull apart. He rests his forehead against yours. He’s breathing heavily, eventually chuckling out a laugh on the exhale.

“Been wanting to do that for a while.” You can hear the smile in his voice with your eyes still closed. His hands on your back, his forehead against yours. You feel like every atom in your body is on fire. For a while, he had said. For a while, you thought back, that I have been missing out on every moment like this.

“Should’ve done it sooner, then. Thought it was just me feeling like this.” You said, a deep sigh erupting from your chest. He can hear the smile in your voice too.

One hand leaves it place at your waist to hold your face. Не pulls further away to look down at you. He’s still smiling.

“And I thought it was just me.”

There’s a little bit of an ache in your chest. A bit of sadness on how long you both had wasted hiding away from each other. But neither of you are hiding now. You press your palm against his chest and feel his heart beat under his shirt. It’s fast, just like yours.

A moment passes before you both realise there is more than each other left in the word. The sky has darkened considerably, the sun settling in the early evening. Neither of you had eaten and you were both starting to feel a hunger for something other than each other.

“We should probably head back to camp.” You say, still unmoving from your proximity to him. Neither of you want to leave this moment.

“Probably. And you can show off everything you’ve learnt today.” He says. He still cradles your face in his hands, his thumb moving softly back and forth on the apple of your cheek.

“Everything I’ve learnt?” You smirk up at his, loosing your previous fixation of your hand on his chest. He chuckles, and he feel the movement of his chest course right through you.

“Maybe not everything.” He replies, his eyes soft as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel the moment come to a close. Not wanting to waste any last second you could spend alone with Arthur like this, after having missed out on so many others in the past, you cling to every bit of it. Before either of you can detach from the other, you grab him by his shirt collar again and pull him down for another kiss.

Additional Content:

You both depart from Arthur’s horse a little before necessary as you make the journey back to camp. The horse clambers along behind you both. You’re both pensive and quiet, but when your hand grazes against his from it’s place by your side, Arthur grasps it and keeps it intertwined with his. You walked further before Arthur’s stops to a sudden holt, his grip on your hand forcing you to stop with him.

“Almost forgot.” He murmured, looking bashful as his cheeks blushed red. He reached down with his other hand, not loosing his hold on your hand, grabbing hold of the pistol you had practiced with and holding it out to you.

You aren’t sure what he means so you respond by raising your eyebrows at him and waiting for him to expand.

“S’a gift. For you. Got it custom in town for ya.” He’s still blushing but he manages to glance into your eyes. He’s searching for something, and you realise he’s worried about how you’ll respond.

You can see the engraving on the gun more clearly now as it rests in his hand. Flowers, your favourite, blooming up through an imprint on the outside of the metal. Your name intertwines with the flowers, the letters flowing into the blossoming leaves.

You reach out towards his outstretched hand, but instead of grabbing the pistol you clasp your hand together with his and pull yourself towards him. You press a small kiss to his lips and as you pull away you smile at him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say looking up at him, hoping he found what he was searching for before, “for everything.

#rdr x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan #Arthur Morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction

[eddiesleftbuttcheek]

Charles Smith NSFW Headcanons

So in my last post I said there isn’t enough nsfw headcanons of Charles on here so I decided I would write my own 🤭 this is incredibly fluffy btw (also we’re imagining you sleep naked with each other in this)

I think it’s a fandom shared headcanon that this man is such a gentle, passionate lover, like he can absolutely have rough sex with you and loves fucking you every time you both need it. But most of the time this man does not fuck you, he makes love to you.

His kisses are soft, tender, he knows exactly how to kiss you to make you swoon, your heart beat faster, your knees weak, head empty, butterflies in your tummy, legs clenching, arousal brewing, goosebump causing. You know, those kind of kisses.

His touches are feather light, caresses all over your body, looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, if there was a god somewhere, he would believe it was you.

When you’re both in bed at night he kisses you slowly, starting off with innocent little pecks between giggles and sweet nothings shared between you which progress into open mouthed kisses, getting a little hot and heavy but still not needing to go anywhere if you didn’t want, his hands either holding your cheek or nestled in your hair to bring you impossibly closer, little moans into each other’s mouth to say ‘I love you’ and your hands on his chest rubbing at the muscle sensually, so incredibly attracted to this man it should be illegal. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip lightly, so lightly that you would’ve missed it had your head not been so empty of everything but him. You meet his tongue with yours, rolling them together softly and adding to the quickly heating up atmosphere of the room. Your hands slide up his chest and around his back to play with his hair, massaging his scalp as he lets out an appreciative groan, one of his hands starting to wander, sliding from your hair to your neck and down your chest until he reaches your breasts, gripping one in his hand softly and you let out a little gasp into his mouth as he starts gently squeezing it.

You grip his hair a little tighter than before and as he rubs your sensitive nipple with his thumb you start to gently grind your hips up into his, feeling his semi-hard cock against your bare thigh, a very pleasant and welcome surprise.

His lips leave yours and start to trail kisses down your neck, sucking as he goes leaving little red marks that you know will turn into bruises through the night until he gets to your breasts and latches his mouth around the nipple his other hand isn’t busy with, he goes between sucking them and licking over them, switching between them so they get the same attention. He could gladly do this all night, he loves playing with your boobs, even more so because he knows how sensitive they are and how wet you get just from him touching them.

The longer he spent at your boobs, the harder you were starting to grind up into him, you were leaving a big wet patch on his naval but neither of you cared, it turned him on so much to know how easy it was for him to make you feel good and it felt too good for you to be embarrassed about it.

‘Charles’ you whisper into the air, hoping he gets the hint that you were starting to get needy, that you wanted more. He just kept doing what he was doing and as he lightly nipped at your nipple you almost whined his name this time. ‘Charles’.

You feel him smirk against your skin as he takes your hint and restarts his kisses again. Going down between your breasts, leaving feather light kisses and touches on your ribs, his touch so soft trailing down your waist you almost squirm from the tickling sensation before he finally gets to where you need him most and he starts kissing and leaving little marks on your inner thighs.

Now I know for a fact that Charles would be a massive giver, like, wouldn’t even think about his pleasure first and giving you pleasure literally gives him pleasure, seriously he could cum from eating you out. (Yes he has before). You know. One of those types.

So when he finally leans in and gives your clit a little kitten lick, this time you do whine and it’s that little noise that drives him up the wall as he begins to devour you. I’m talking sloppy, messy, mind blowing, toe curling head. It’s one of his favourite things to do and in your opinion it’s one of the things he’s best at.

He has his tongue inside of you, greedily lapping up your juices and sucking them out of you, his eyes closed in concentration, opening every so often to look at your head thrown back in pleasure, one hand gripping his head and the other clutching the pillow beside your head. How you look during sex always makes him fall even more in love with you, how your head rolls back, hands grip to anything they can (especially his muscles oooooh how you both have a kink for his muscles 😩), your mouth making the perfect silent ‘o’ as you struggle to take a breath from the pleasure your feeling, only being able to focus on him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock, anything about him that is bringing you closer to the edge. (So literally his entire being lmao)

When he finally slides a finger into you it immediately goes to the hilt, you’re so wet and needy that he’s able to add a second one to join it with no resistance immediately, he watches as your eyebrows and nose scrunch, your mouth falling open as you let out one of those delicious noises, reminding Charles of his very obvious hard on. He scissors his fingers gently, slowly getting you ready for him. (It’s canon that this man is huge have you seen that picture at the top of this post? Oh my lordddd so yes he absolutely has a big dick argue with the wall.)

His tongue attaches back onto your clit and the pressure of him lightly suckling the bud and slowly opening you up for him is too much for you to take and you cum for the first time with a gasp and a loud moan, grinding your hips again as your pussy twitches and tightens around him as you ride it out.

The orgasm makes you relax enough that he decides it would be enough to take him and with a quick look up to you, you nod and he immediately gets up and settles between your thighs. He runs the head of his cock through your folds, getting him lubed up and slowly dragging over your still sensitive clit as you let out little moans and mewls at the touches.

Finally he lines up and slowly pushes into you, groaning as he does, you’ve been together a while but he will never get used to the feeling of filling you for the first time during your sessions, you’re so warm and wet that it makes even a man like him with insane self control struggle to hold back.

As I said before this man is gentle and passionate so although his thrusts are slow they are pretty hard, filling you up perfectly and it is just the right mix of gentle but passionate that it has you moaning immediately, already knowing you were going to be able to cum more than once tonight.

He’s a very romantic man when he’s in love I think so he would be full of praise for you, constantly reassuring you during sex and making you feel so good about yourself you feel like a god with the way he talks to you.

‘Oooh that’s it baby. You’re doing so well for me. You feel so good. So good for me my love’ (holy hell I’m not okay 😩)

You couldn’t hold in your moans even if you wanted to, every single thrust is angled so perfectly, the rhythm is delicious and the power of his thrusts make your eyes roll back and goosebumps rise all over your arms from the pleasure of it.

‘Fuckkk, you feel so good baby. You feel good?’

You can’t even answer him as every single thrust he makes hits your g spot perfectly, you can’t contain your noises and you involuntarily clench around him every so often as he hits so deep inside of you that you forget your own name; your mind only being filled with one thing. Charles. Charles. Charles.

One of his hands grips your thigh with a bruising but pleasurable grip, the other going back to your cheek as he leans down to kiss you, it’s mainly just teeth clashing together as you moan into each other’s mouths but it’s intimate. So intimate.

He moves his hand from your cheek to trail down your body again, rubbing over the marks he left softly and going further and further until he reaches your clit again. He rubs it with the right amount of pressure, speed and intensity, knowing exactly how to make you mewl so the only thing you can think about is the pleasure you feel, not any problems outside of this room, just how this man is making you feel.

He gathers wetness from your thighs and goes back to rubbing your clit, the added wetness giving you exactly what you needed to tumble. No. Full force pelt off that edge again. You cum around him, clenching on him so hard he almost gets pushed out, he can feel you cumming, how even more wet you get as your cum mixes with your other juices, he watches you as you cum, panting into his mouth and moaning loudly, your eyes roll back further than they had before, only able to see the whites of your eyes, your jaw fell further open, head thrown back as you let out those sinful noises, you can see stars, feel yourself throbbing around Charles as you come back down from the high, seeing that he was watching you always makes you blush.

‘God you’re so beautiful like that. I almost came on the spot just watching that.’

You giggle a little before you let out another moan as he starts to thrust again, going after his own pleasure now that he knows you won’t be able to cum again for a while after an orgasm like that. His groans and moans get even louder the closer he gets. His muscles flex and tense, his eyebrows furrowing as his mouth too falls open to let more of the sounds out. He looks so beautiful when he cums, eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched, mouth open and making the most obscene, sexy noises you’ve ever heard a man make. You feel him throbbing inside of you as he cums inside of you, only stopping his thrusting as he too comes down from the high.

With a final moan he pulls out of you and lays down on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms so your head is on his chest, your hand running across the scars there as he rubs your back soothingly.

‘You done so well for me. Always do so well for me.’

You blush slightly and your heart swells from the praise of your lover.

‘I love you, Charles.’ you say, throwing a leg over his, bringing you too even closer. He plants a kiss on your head before replying.

‘I love you more. My angel.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOOOOOOOO good lord this was hot and heavy I can’t believe I wrote this 🤭

Let’s ignore the fact it basically turned into a one shot pls.

I enjoyed this way too much. Love ya byeeee <3

#charles smith x reader #charles smith smut #charles smith #red dead redemption screenshots #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 charles #rdr2 imagine #arthur morgan #rdr2 headcanons #red dead redemption imagine

[tuxebo]

What do you think of John marston?

he's hot, that's about it (pretending i didn't just write this whole thing abt him.) while i've read that he gets better over time, i'm yet to see it so i have mixed feelings on him. he's not a good father, not a good friend, not a good husband. let's be real here, he wouldn't make a good partner unless he fell in love before joining the gang.

john marston who wasn't completely alone before dutch saved his tail from getting hung. there was this poor baker and his wife, they had a kid, you. you weren't wealthy folk, no, but you always brought john dinner or shared yours. it wasn't large portions, but enough to keep him from dying of hunger.

you first met him when you caught him trying to steal from the bakery, rather than telling your parents you just handed him to bread. you had a mini picnic on the bakery's front porch, you talking his ears off was more than enough payment for the food.

you brought him food a couple more times, talking about yourself while he ate in silence, eventually he opened up and started engaging in the conversations you started. he never told you much about himself, other than the orphanage you could find him at. he showed you which window was his and that you only need to toss a pebble at it to get his attention.

as time passed, john became more and more of a no b.s. little boys. the kind of little boy that got himself killed or in a gang, as your daddy said. he didn't put up with anyone messing with you, in that respect he got more aggressive with your bullies, but never with you. you taught him things you learned from your mother as she was your teacher, some of it didn't stick but you tried.

inevitably, john disappeared. he was either dead in a ditch or in a gang, your dad didn't mention a third possibility but you liked to believe he'd been adopted by a nice family and that you'd see him again. you were only about 11 years old and he was 12, it wasn't shocking for you to have such enthusiasm.

life continued as usual for about three decades. you never married, business was going well after your parents died and suddenly you had one too many responsibilities on your plate for any of that. the world was becoming more and more industrialized by the day, you wouldn't even recognize it to what it once was when you were a kid. the only place that felt like home was your bakery, which is part of the reason it was doing so well, the nostalgia.

having had been in the business for so long, you were no stranger to thieves ─ you even caught one before you were double digits. one a particularly slow morning, the grey clouds settling in as you prepared for rain, a quiet hum caught your attention.

stepping out from the back, you caught a young man staring down your trays of different breads. he wasn't quiet at all, practically begging to be caught. you smiled, planning on just giving some to him anyway, but the look he gave you rendered you speechless from deja vu. same type of bread, same guilty smile, same brown eyes, same thinking hum.

"aw c'mon, son ─ jus' had to be this one of all the damn shops on the block," a man swore, the same way your dad did when he read about some young-ins doing stupid stuff in the paper. the voice was familiar, deeper as it had been many years now, but before you was john marston and another younger john marston.

since leaving the gang and his son's mother, john marston was a changed man. finally able to pay you back for all the bread and the bread his boy tried to steal. this time he gave you a proper picnic, in the large yard on his property. he set up under on of his sycamore trees, just like you had described three decades ago.

john marston may not have been adopted by some nice family nor was he always a nice man, but he was ready to become one for his son and you.

#౨ৎ⋆ anne’s chronicles ˚｡⋆ #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #john marston #john marston x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fluff #rdr2 fluff #john marston fluff #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 imagine

[lowfunctioningoptimist]

Being a former Schoolteacher in the Van Der Linde Gang

Prompt: {Reader as a Former Teacher in the Van Der Linde Gang}

Fem!Reader x Various

Summary: It’s no secret that the Van Der Linde Gang brought together all sorts of misfits of all sorts of backgrounds. Hosea had been a stage actor, Bill had been a soldier, and Javier was once a revolutionary. However, with all these strange yet vibrant histories, yours always made you stand out. Far to off in the eastern side of the country, you had lived a modest but respectable life as a schoolteacher. 

Note: Reader is written as being in her late twenties to early thirties. I only have Arthur, John, Dutch, Abigail, Mary-Beth, Javier, Molly, and Sean in this post. I do intend to write the others, I just didn't want this to be too long. I can also write specific imagines or romantic hcs if requested!

ARTHUR

He’s likely to be the first to develop a crush on you. Honestly.

Arthur finds you comforting. You carry yourself with a warmth and a certain air of confidence that makes him feel safe in your presence. He didn’t have much schooling, so he sometimes gets shy about talking about academic subjects. Still, you do manage to coax him into deeper conversations than just “mornin’” and “lovely day, ain’t it?”

Arthur is softer than he seems and sees more than he’s always willing to say. After cracking through the awkward small-talk phase of your friendship, you and Arthur begin to talk more on philosophy. He’s never considered himself all that smart, but you tell him that he’s insightful. Insightful? Him? It's enough to make him blush sometimes.

As he gets to know you better, Arthur starts to do small favors for you. Nothing too big. Just things like bringing back books from town or little trinkets he thought you might like. If you need help with your chores, he might just join you if Miss Grimshaw ain't around. Certain people in the gang have taken to calling him, "teacher's pet."

JOHN

He hardly paid you any mind, at first.

After you spent a few weeks with the gang, he started seeing you with Jack. Thought nothing of it, at first. Then it became a regular occurrence and despite himself, he got just a touch paranoid. You were brand new to the gang. A stranger. Why would Abigail let you near his her son? He confronted her only to find out that Abigail had asked you to teach Jack as his own private tutor. Needless to say, he felt a bit silly.

From what he can tell, you're not half-bad of a teacher. Jack's learning his numbers, writing his name, and is starting to ask for more books. While a part of him wants to be happy... it only vexes him further. Why would such an innocent civilian such as yourself be all the way out here?

John takes a while to warm up to you, but you proved to be less stuffy than you looked. You have a firm yet gentle way about you. And somehow, you can correct someone without ever making them feel stupid or simple for it.

DUTCH

He enjoys your keen mind and education, but he also resents it.

Dutch won't share with the others how he found you or how you became an outlaw. He likes to say that it's your story to tell. Really, he just like to know something no one else does. His reason for recruiting you was just as simple, he hadn't met someone like you before.

It's not everyday he meets an ex-teacher-turned-outlaw. Dutch found your situation interesting, unique. He does so like to collect outcasts. Especially one as educated and clean as you. Dutch starts to linger by you as you do your chores to initiate a playful debate. Unlike most in the gang, you disagree with some of his philosophies and have counterarguments that make him pause. That's not to say you've ever convinced him to change his mind, oh no. His pauses are more for him to steady himself so he doesn't show how bothered your resistance makes him.

As much as Dutch loves to spar with you mentally, he secretly finds offense in your obstinance. What you see as playful debate may just turn into a case against you as a traitor.

JAVIER

Now, this one may seem odd, but Javier is second most likely to develop a strong attraction for you. 

When he first saw you, it wasn’t precisely love at first sight. You were new, having joined just after Charles. Javier agreed with Bill that you wouldn’t last long. Everything about you just screamed, “civilian.” You dressed modestly, wore spectacles, spoke proper English, and seemed clueless as how to survive in the west. The only reason he didn’t outright resent you was because Dutch had been the one to bring you into the gang. 

The crush started around the same time you got more comfortable at camp. Sometimes you let your hair down, literally and figuratively, both of which he found very attractive. You have a mouth on you, and you aren’t scared of much. Seeing you stare down Bill for swearing in front of Jack was enough to prove that. He likes how tough but fair you are. How you’re educated but you’re not stuck up about it, unlike some he’s met. 

MARY-BETH

Is shy about it, but eventually goes to you for help with her writing.

Mary-Beth finds out that you both like “silly romance,” books and she starts to talk about how she writes her own. With it being so hard to find new things to read, you jump at the chance to read her work. Mary-Beth is quite shy about it, but she lets you read a few pages. Much to her surprise, you praise the work and ask for more. She starts to use you as an editor for some of her short stories. You enjoy her writing quite a lot and encourage her to keep going. 

You and Mary-Beth get on very well. You’re both bookworms and not too keen on violence for violence’s sake. Privately, you talk about what you hope your life will be like some day.

SEAN

Finds the fact that you’re an outlaw to be completely hilarious. 

As he gets more used to your presence, Sean starts to come to you with questions about the world. He does this because, as a teacher, he assumes you must know the answer to at least some of these. Questions like, “Why do we call ducks and geese different things when they look alike?” or “How’d we even decide what to name things? Did we see an orange’n on a trre an’ tink, ‘Oh now that’s an orange!’ or did we already have the color all sorted out? How’d they name colors to begin with?”

Sean will sometimes follow you around camp to ask you these questions, and the gang finds it quite funny. You’ll just be doing your chores with Sean slinking behind you as his mouth runs a mile a minute. What surprises most is that you usually at least try to give him an answer. Some folks didn’t believe you were really a teacher when you first joined… They believed you after they saw how patient you can be with Sean. 

ABIGAIL

First, she was suspicious of you. Then, she trusted you more than most.

Once Abigail was certain you weren’t going to sprint back into town to turn everyone in, she had a favor to ask. Jack was getting older and although Hosea and Dutch offered to teach him to read and write, they hadn’t the time to start. She asked you to teach him whatever you could when time allowed. You were excited to help, eager. Jack being as young as he was, took to your lessons fast. In little time, you were helping him sound out sentences and write his name. This started a new problem for Abigail, however. She never learned to read or write herself. Jack would try to show her his work, or ask her to read him a story, and she couldn’t.

Instead of shaming her, you offered to teach her how to read as well. Abigail refused at first, but relented when you said she could teach you how to sew in return. Through her, you start to feel more a part of the gang.

MOLLY

She only started to have a problem with you once she realized you weren’t some old hag.

When you first joined the gang, you were still dressing like a teacher. Your clothes were bulky and formless, hair all pulled back in a bun, and you were quiet. As you got more into the outlaw life, you started to dress a bit more like the other women. Started showing more of your personality. And more importantly, Dutch started to pull you aside more often. 

Molly can’t help but feel paranoid about you and Dutch. When she spies in on you two, all she sees is you both reading or debating. It’s not as if he’s holding your hand or whispering in your ear… but it feels wrong. Dutch talks to you about things he won’t talk to her about. Books, philosophy, world events, the strange and esoteric. It feels like you satisfy him in a way she can’t, and Molly comes unglued thinking about it. 

#rdr2 x you #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #rdr2 imagine #arthur morgan x reader

[emmcfrxst]

okay that drunk arthur ask got me thinking though. HOW ABT HIS BELOVED TAKING CARE OF HIMMMM hes literally so silly & giggly in the mission with lenny i just wanna know how he'd act with his s/o 😭

you’re trying to get him to bathe after he tumbles in a mud puddle and he’s trying to run away like “YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIIIIIIIIIIIVE” and giggling only to get his foot stuck in a vine and faceplanting directly on the ground, and when you reach him and help him sit up he’s just frowning down at his feet like they’re traitorous until he realizes that you’re there and then he has this huge silly grin on his face and he’s like “DARLIN’!!!!!!!!!! WHEN DID’CHU GET HERE????” and his voice is like. booming cause he’s too drunk to mind his tone and he’s grabbing your hands and grinning at you and he’s BEAMING and i love this silly dude sm 😭

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 fluff #rdr2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 fluff #red dead redemption 2 imagine #a1yaaaa #answered

[whatssinaname]

I am begging the amazing beautiful talented fic writers to please write an Outlander AU for Arthur please! Hubby deserves it! 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

(maybe also a fix it fic maybe so hubby can live a long happy life and never die and bonus points for multi chapters)

#I’d love you all 5eva #pics are of my Arthur anyone can use #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 imagine

[immajustvibehere]

okay but how about Arthur trying to hide a smile after you give him a peck on the cheek all of a suddden and he doesn't want you to notice that he's blushing

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #rdr #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 what if #rdr2 photography

[soup-14]

Dutch Van Der Linde x gn!Reader Blurb

Dutch x gn!Reader

Fluff

Dutch keeping you warm in Colter.

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

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

The small abandoned mining tow is a light in the dark to you all. It certainly isn't perfect but at least there is a foot over your heads and fire in the hearth.

everyone's main goal is to keep warm. you're low on food, money and there are all sorts of other problems, but Dutch cant have anyone else dying from the cold.

You stand in his cabin trying to warm yourself by the fireplace. Your limbs tingle and itch from the cold. your cheeks and nose are rosy.

A gust of cold wind blows onto your back as the cabin door opens, causing you to shiver. Dutch steps inside and quickly shuts the door behind him.

Dawned in his large fur coat, cheeks and nose red, frost settled on his mutache.

Rubbing his hands together he joins you by the fire. "Staying warm My Dear?" He asks.

"Trying to."

You take his freezing fingers into your warm hands and blow hot air onto them. Dutch takes his hands away and reaches to remove his gun belt. He sets it on a chair and opens his coat. "Dutch I'm fine you don't have to-" he interrupts you with a chuckle.

"Come here." he smiles.

Your face lights up and you quickly walk into his inviting warmth. he immediately closes the coat behind you and wraps it tightly around the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest.

Dutch shuffles closer to the fire. he nuzzles his nose into your hood and sighs in content.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch x reader #rdr2 dutch x reader #dutch #dutch vanderlinde #rdr2 x reader #rdr x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 imagine #dutch van der linde imagine

[mlmxreader]

Apprehensions | Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ i miss arthur morgan dearly. it’s so bad. i humbly request arthur morgan x gn!reader (male!reader works too, idrc) w/ the prompt “get inside, you’ll catch a cold”!!! kisses mwah - @mockerycrow ❞

: ̗̀➛ Arthur's good to you, it's a shame that he doesn't really allow himself some grace.

: ̗̀➛ nudity, smoking, swearing, scenes of a sexual nature

: ̗̀➛ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Lenny had been out hunting, which came as a surprise to no one, as the two of you did often wander away for a few hours; you worked well as a team, as one of you would chase whatever you were hunting, while the other took the shot. It worked every time, and you often had a good haul to bring back to camp; at least, today you did.

Although that didn’t mean that the weather had not been cruel.

Heavy, pounding rain had caused many of the open fields and pathways to become deeply flooded and slick with mud; your boots squelched with each step, and your clothes were so sodden that they were heavy to lumber around.

You were shivering, soaked to the bone and quite literally dripping, by the time that you started to approach the campfire; but a sharp whistle caught your attention, and when you looked over, you saw Arthur standing under his tent as he gestured for you to go over. 

You did so a little too eagerly, surprised when he caught your elbow gently and pulled you under the small shelter; he was never rough with you, he made it a point not to be, and he was quick to pull the fabric of his tent down to protect you a little more from the rain.

One quick look at you, and he frowned.

“You need to get inside, you’ll catch a cold,” he told you quietly, letting you go and rummaging through his trunk. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of trousers, tossing them onto his cot. “This should do it… shouldn’t be too bad.”

You swallowed thickly, taking off your hat and clearing your throat. “Thank you…”

He looked up at you, his mouth falling agape for a moment. “D’ya want me to wait outside?”

You shook your head, shrugging as you hummed softly and started to unbutton your shirt. “No, I mean… it’s not the first time you’ve seen me naked, so…”

Arthur sat on his cot, facing the wall as he lit a cigarette; he didn’t mean to look, he really didn’t, but when he heard your boots clatter to the side and the thud of your trousers… he did steal a quick look, blushing as he was unable to move.

You were fucking magnificent; he swallowed thickly, biting at the inside of his lip, but he was too slow to look away, and when you caught him looking, you grinned.

“Arthur?”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“You can look,” you told him quietly, shaking your head. “You can touch if you want, too.”

The blush on Arthur’s features deepened as he watched you get closer; he slowly put his hands on your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs. One hand travelled up, exploring your chest with rough and clumsy fingertips before he stood up, audibly gulping.

“You, erm, you look real good,” he whispered, voice hoarse and heavy.

You put your hands on his chest, tugging at his shirt slightly. “So do you, Mister Morgan.”

His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he reluctantly pulled away, clearing his throat; it wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch you, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss you and to make you moan his name… of course he wanted all of that and more, but he was well aware that because of what you both did for a living, it would never last.

He was an outlaw, you were a gunslinger that Dutch had brought in not even a year ago… it was never going to work. He didn’t want you to feel the pain that he knew would inevitably come along. He really didn’t.

You were too good for that, you could have gotten out of the life; settled down, had a family, made something of yourself. He could never do that. He would die an outlaw, but you… you had a chance.

“Arthur?” You sat down beside him on his cot, shivering a little as the cold air blew through and hit your naked skin. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he shook his head, sighing heavily. “I just… can’t do this, not with you… you ain’t gonna die an outlaw, you ain’t… you don’t want me… it’s only gonna end bad.”

“Oh, Arthur,” you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. “You… I do want you, and whatever the fuck happens… I can handle it. Trust me, I’ve been through a lot of shit. I can handle it.”

“You can get outta here, y’know,” he told you. “You have a chance to have a life… I’m gonna die an outlaw.”

“And I’m gonna die a gunslinger,” you admitted. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, it’s all I’m good at - it’s all I know… I’m not getting out of this life, either.”

He spared a glance at you, chewing at the inside of his bottom lip. “You oughtta get dressed. Y’might catch your death if you keep your clothes off.”

You leaned over, daring to sweetly kiss his cheek; you didn’t mind that he watched you get dressed, in fact, you quite enjoyed the attention. You just wished that he would actually let go a little; that he wouldn’t be so staunch about not hurting you.

You had survived the life of a gunslinger for years before you had met Dutch and Hosea, you would survive a little heartbreak if anything were to ever go bad for you and Arthur. But you knew it wasn’t that easy, so you sighed, sitting down beside him again and leaning your head against his shoulder as you sighed.

“What if we take it slow?” You asked him. “Take everything at your pace.”

Arthur glared at you for a moment before he nodded. “Y’sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He thought about it for a moment; you were so eager, so wanting, and although he wanted it so badly, he still had his apprehensions… but then he saw how you were looking at him, and he sighed. “Then, yeah.”

#mlem writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x yn #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x you #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fic #rdr 2 fanfiction #rdr 2 #rdr2

[ccghastly]

Lenny: Sean, I'm telling you, it depe-

Sean: No! No, no, n- Art'ur! Art'ur Morgan! Come over here a mo', I've a question for ya.

Arthur: Sean, for the last time, I'm not gonna ring dang do y-

Sean: No! A different question, not that, a different question.

Arthur: ... Okay, what is it?

Sean: Would you rather eat wit' a fork or a spoon?

Arthur: Well, what am I eating?

Lenny: I TOLD YOU! I told you it matters!

Sean: No it don't! Art'ur, just answer the question! Fork or spoon?

Arthur: I'm not eating soup with a fork, and I'm not eating no steak with a spoon. It depends on wh-

Lenny: That's what I've been saying!

Sean: John! John, would you rather eat with a fork or a spoon?

John: Am I eating out of a jar?

Sean: IT DONT .... matter.... ?

Arthur: Marston. You are some new kinda dumb.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #john marston #sean macguire #lenny summers #ccghastly #rdr2 imagine

[sapphic-pikachu]

arthur helping the reader with really bad period pains ( im literally on my period rn it hurts so bad 😭) TYSM 💖💖

Period Pains

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 1k

Summary: Arthur does what he can to try and ease your cramps.

Warnings: sfw, period pains, reader is born with a uterus, time accurate drug use kinda? mention of blood, Arthur is fiercely protective

A/N: thank you anon for the request!!! Kinda having writers block writing part twos for stuff so really appreciate any ideas of things to write for Arthur! also I literally started my period while writing this so this is very self fulfilling I want Arthur to give me a hug

You lay curled up in Arthur’s bed, knees tucked to your chest and head cradled downwards. The pain in your stomach was unbearable and you struggled to steady your breathing. You were on the worst day of your period, waiting for the pain to subside and the cramps to wear off as you neared the end of the monthly cycle.

You pulled the blanket closer to you, too hot to wrap it round you but wanting the lingering smell of Arthur on his sheets to be closer to you. Arthur had left camp what seemed like hours ago. He had pulled down the cover of his tent to give you some privacy in your time of vulnerability. Mrs Grimshaw, understanding of what you were going through, had been giving you lighter chores for the past few days and was unbothered when you hadn’t rose from Arthur’s bed to help out at all that day.

You let out a small whimper of pain that you smothered into the pillow as another hot flash of pain shot through you. A dull ache had settled around the muscles of your body and you felt exhausted, but the undying discomfort of your cramps had put a stop to your sleeping.

You hear the rustling of fabric and shuffling at the entrance to Arthur’s tent. You spared a quick glance to see Arthur’s tall figure, before pulling your body into itself and burying your head into the pillow.

“No better?” Arthur asked and you responded with a small whine and a nod into the fabric of the bed.

Arthur came closer to you, crouching beside the bed where your back faced him. He placed his hand on the small of your back and gave it a gentle rub.

“Got some things to try help. Hate seeing you like this.”

You uncurled from the ball you were in and turned towards Arthur. Arthur looked worried, and guilty, and you desperately just wanted to pull him close and reassure him that not everything can be or needed to be fixed. You didn’t dare do this, as you worried that any sudden movement threatened to spill blood into Arthur’s bed. You glanced beside him where he had a brown paper bag packed full with items, that you assumed he had bought from the local shopkeeper. You looked at him, smiled and raised your eyebrow, waiting for him to expand on what he had got.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a bar of chocolate. A quick look into the bag informed you that he had bought several. You snatched the bar out of his hands and unravelled it, before taking a bite and savouring the way it melted in your mouth.

“Y’mentioned once you thought chocolate helped the pain. And I know how hungry you get.” He muttered in his gruff tone. He was right - once a month you became particularly ravenous and today alone you have scoffed up three large helpings of Pearson’s stew. You smiled at Arthur who was looking into his bag again, rooting around for what he had next bought you. You took another bite of your chocolate.

He pulled out a small fabric pouch that he unwrapped to reveal small slabs of willow bark. He handed you a piece that you reluctantly put in your mouth and started to chew. You grimaced at the taste, but you couldn’t deny that the bark had been useful for relieving your pain in the past.

“Keep chewing,” Arthur said, standing up and grabbing his bag and heading for the tent’s exit, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You did as he asked and kept chewing. The taste was extremely bitter in your mouth but you were still in a marvel at the trouble Arthur had went to to try and help you even though you hadn’t asked for his help. Your cramps had lessened slightly, but you weren’t sure if it was due to the bark or Arthur’s presence.

Arthur came back into the tent carrying a pile of fabric on one arm and balancing a cup in the other. He placed the cup on the table next to his bed before crouching down next to you again.

He rolled up the bottom of your shirt to reveal your waist. He glanced at you for permission before unbuttoning the your trousers and pulling them down slightly so the soft skin of your stomach was showing. Then gently, he placed a heated towel where your cramps had been. Then, he placed a bag shaped item of fabric that he had filled with hot rocks and pieces of lavender over the towel, adding an extra layer of warmth to your body.

“That okay?” He asked, hands still adjusting the pain relief he had added to your body. You reach a hand out to stop him, holding his hand in yours.

“Thank you, Arthur.”

He looked into your eyes, forever frustrated that he couldn’t stop your pain every month. In a way, he preferred a gun fight; At least then he could fight away everything that threatened to harm you. He saw your face was less tightened with pain and you looked at him with gratefulness in your eyes. He smiled slightly. Maybe he didn’t need a gunfight to help you.

He nudged you to sit forward in the bed slightly, and as gently as he could slid himself in behind you so you sat between his legs and could lean back into his chest. He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, and used the other hand to grab the cup he had left on the table.

He brought the cup to your face and instructed you to drink it as you wrapped both your hands around it. You sipped the liquid, acknowledging that Arthur had made you up a herbal tea: Laudanum, whiskey, lavender, cinnamon and saffron shot out at you as a mixture of bitter flavours. Even with the additional sweet taste of honey that you could detect, the tea still had a strong potent flavour residing in it. Still, you sipped on it gently, savouring the hot liquid travelling to your stomach. You rested comfortably on Arthur, who grabbed your empty cup when you had finished and placed it back on the table.

He placed one hand on your waist and the other on your lower stomach where the heat pads where and massaged you gently. You lay your head back against his chest and he placed a kiss against your temple.

Your pain was forgotten about as you slowly fell asleep in Arthur’s arms. Arthur didn’t dare move at the thought of disturbing your long awaited moment of peace. He closed his eyes too, and let himself fall asleep to the feel of your breathing on his chest.

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