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#red dead redemption imagine
serawritesthings · 4 months
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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.
OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND
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Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut Word Count | 10k A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡
While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.
Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in. 
The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man. 
You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth. 
“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body. 
“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.
“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger. 
Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.
“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject. 
“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.
As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.
“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.
“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.
You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.
“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.
You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.” 
Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.
“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll. 
Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door. 
He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur. 
You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose. 
“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look. 
“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure. 
Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach. 
“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn. 
He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn��t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.
He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.
“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.
“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.
“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”
As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West. 
Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.
Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.
Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.
What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.
“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.
“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.
“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”
“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”
He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.
“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours. 
“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing. 
“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff. 
“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.
Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height. 
“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much. 
It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.
You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.
“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.
“Cold?” 
“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.
“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work. 
Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.
“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.
“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.
“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”
“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”
He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words. 
“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled. 
It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”
“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.
Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.
It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.
“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.” 
“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.
“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.
“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”
“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving. 
Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.
You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.
His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.
“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.
“Yes, kind.”
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.
“Sure.”
It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway. 
It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.
Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.
Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite. 
If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.
And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby. 
Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.
He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.
It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.
Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.
“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.
“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.
Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.
Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people. 
Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.
“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.
You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears. 
As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.
How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.
How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable. 
“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.
“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes. 
You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls. 
“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.
“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”
“No, I-” 
“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”
His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did. 
“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”
You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.
“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.
“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture. 
You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.
Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes. 
He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being. 
So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.
“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.
He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.
“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle. 
“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”
A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”
As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.
“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him. 
Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips. 
Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.
“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something. 
Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.
And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.
“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.
Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.
“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.
And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.
It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground. 
“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm. 
“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.
It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.
You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch. 
It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.
“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.” 
You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.
You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking. 
“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.
“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.
You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck. 
Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.
Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own. 
He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.
And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him. 
But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh. 
His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.
It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.
The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers. 
“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night. 
Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.
“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval. 
You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.
He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.
A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions. 
For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.
And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.
“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.
“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.
Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.
“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.” 
He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him. 
While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck. 
You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.
Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else. 
You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you. 
God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.
“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.
“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control. 
Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.
He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.
Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements. 
Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.
“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.
He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.
Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before. 
Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.
Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.
“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.
“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”
“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.
They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.
“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.
“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.
“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.
“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.
“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face. 
The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.
You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.
Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly. 
Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you. 
“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.
The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.
As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.
“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.
“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come. 
“Are you jealous of Charles?” 
If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.
If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled. 
“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs. 
“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.” 
Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him. 
“Only me, right?”
“Only you, stupid.”
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the-great-pretender02 · 5 months
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Slowly subscribing to the theory that John is blind in that eye or at least semi blind, I never noticed how bad it really looked. This shot is so good 😭
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emmcfrxst · 9 days
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i talk a lot about sex with arthur but i am such a sucker for non-sexual intimacy. just lying down facing each other and tracing each other’s features with the tips of your fingers. undressing each other after a long day and letting your hands linger not out of lust but out of appreciation for the person that you love. bathing together in a river and washing each other’s hair. resting your chin on his shoulder as you sit behind him on his horse. sitting around the campfire with one of his big hands splayed across your thigh, his fingers drumming along to a song in his head. pressing your foreheads together and whispering words of adoration before he leaves for a job. resting your head on his bare chest and falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. him cupping your face in his big hands and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs only for you to move your head to kiss the palm of his hand. just. non-sexual intimacy with arthur morgan.
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marstonator · 9 months
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details on john marston's customized saddle he lost in the mountains after the wolf attack.
honestly breaks my heart to see this because i assume he worked HARD to be able to afford that saddle only to lose it like that later. can we also talk about the fact it matches with his gunbelt and holsters??? i love this little detail.
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incorrect-rdr2 · 11 months
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Abigail: hey John
John: arthur used to call me John…
Abigail: because it’s your fucking name
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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)
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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
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sapphic-pikachu · 1 year
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Playing Dress Up
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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader
Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2
Words: 1.6K
Summary: Arthur waits as you get ready for a plan that require you both to dress up for a party.
Warnings: I haven’t written fanfiction for like 5 years, Arthur is an insecure man who needs a hug, mainly Arthur’s pov, sfw
A/N: I might do a part two of this involving them actually being at the gala? fake dating trope is my weakness sorry x lemme know if anyone wants it
Arthur’s heart feels warm in his chest as he glimpses the shadows of your silhouette through the canvas of his tent.
Inside, he can hear your bashful laughter amongst the rest of the girls. When they heard about the preparation needed for this latest plan of Dutch’s, they immediately staked claim to both you, and Arthur’s tent, pulling the tent flaps closed behind you all.
“The lady and her helping hands need privacy, of course!” Karen had yelled in some horrible imitation of the upper class, before cackling with laughter.
Arthur leaned against a wooden bench surrounded by the rest of the gang, who similarly to the women, were giddy about the prospect of money if their latest plan went accordingly. Arthur roughly tugged against the stiff white collar of his button down. He jolted his hand firmly downwards when Mrs Grimshaw, who had been guiding him sternly all evening on how to keep his suit clean, shot a warning glare his way.
“You won’t be saying that when he drags us both into it and has us waking snakes,” he had grumbled back. It was you who had rolled your eyes then, responding to him with a playful shove with your hand. Arthur thought his heart had stopped beating then, and the feeling of your fingertips on his upper bicep burnt into his skin for the rest of the day.
Arthur had been right to roll his eyes - here he was, dressed to the high nines with Hosea, Dutch, Bill and Trelawney in similar looking high class suits. His hair was slicked back, his beard freshly trimmed and the black blazer clung to his arms tightly - a mistake often made when Trelawney was given free reign over the gang’s fashionable attire, and had to outsource it from any means necessary.
On the outskirts of the town that they were currently holed up just outside of, a large, very rich, group of people were to meet up in the form of a party. Trelawney had heard of it, and thought it would be a brilliant idea for the gang to rob all the assumably drunk partygoers blind. Arthur didn’t deny that it was a good plan; he just desperately wished it didn’t involve wearing such a form fitting, expensive piece of clothing. And even more so, he desperately wished it didn’t involve having to be sociable with the entire high society on a medium sized town.
He had thought it would just be them at first. Of course, they would have Javier, Lenny and Sadie right outside in a carriage, fully armed and rearing to go, just in case things were to go south. But then Trelawney came back bursting into camp that morning with a small leather chest, filled with a dress, jewellery and hair clips just for you.
Arthur had laughed joyfully, ignoring the glare you gave him across camp. You had assumed you would help out with Sadie and the rest, assisting with your guns blazing only if necessary. But Dutch had developed bigger plans for you: you were to pose with the rest of the men, as a high society lady looking to develop new roots and relationships in a new area. Much like Arthur, the thought of wearing such clothing and having to make conversation with such people appalled you - while you appreciated the beauty of femininity, it was much more easier for you to stick on men’s trousers and boots when you were gunning down people or riding your trusted horse away from the law.
And so everyone waited for you to be done. Every once in a while, Mary-Beth or Karen would skirt out of the tent, grabbing something from their own or stealing something from one of the men, before scurrying back in. When Dutch had tried to peek his head into the tent to ask the girls how long they were going to be, Karen practically hissed at him.
He could barely make out the girls chatter from within the tent. He had noticed your distinct lack of talking for the past few hours while you were trapped in the tent - sometimes, he would hear the murmur of your voice before a sharp response from Karen.
“Don’t you dare speak! You’ll smudge all my work!”
At some points, he would hear you yelp or telling the girls off for bringing a cosmetic too close to your eye or pulling corset strings too tight. Himself and the rest of the gang would chuckle quietly at the roughness of the women, namely Karen.
A rustle came from the opening of the tent. He stood straight as Tilly peeked her head out.
“Are you all ready to see our work?” Tilly asked, a toothy smile showing as she talked.
“Finally!” Dutch exclaimed getting to his feet from his place around the campfire. The other men involved followed suit. Uncle drunkly cheered in the background, sparking a laugh from some of the other members.
“Allow us to introduce you all to the lovely Miss Lady Callahan!” Tilly presented, coming out from the tent and holding the tent flap to the side to allow you to come out.
Arthur really, really thought his heart stopped beating then.
There you were: A long, golden dress hugged your figure to your waist, where it bunched up to flare out the material. The bodice of the dress cut down into a rounded neckline above your chest, where a pearl necklace with gold adornments draped your neck. The girls had your hair pinned up, with sections curling down to surround your face, which they had peppered subtly with cosmetics. Your eyes seemed darkened around eyelids, your lips and cheeks stained to a permanent blush.
As always, you looked beautiful. But in the light of the sun lowering on the camp and the adjustments the girl had made, Arthur was forced to think of a different life you could have had. A life he could never give you. A life you could never have when he was in yours.
Whistles surrounded throughout camp. You laughed, rolling your eyes at the gang’s overwhelming response to your appearance. Guided by the jeers of one of the camp members, you twirled on the spot, your dress flaring out around you.
“Ain’t ye gonna complement yer wife, Mr Callahan?” Sean jested from beside him, “Because if ye don’t I will!”
The strangeness of Tilly’s previous words suddenly hit him. His identity for the night, was rich business man Arthur Callahan, who had just moved to the area and was looking to make some like-minded business relations. Why was your name also Callahan?
He turned suspiciously towards the space occupied by Dutch and Hosea.
“Wife?” He asked. Dutch and Hosea raised them eyebrows, as if they had never done anything wrong in their life ever.
“We can’t be having an unwed lady attend the gala by herself! No, how preposterous, my boy. You and this lovely lady will be posing as a newly wed couple,” Trelawney butted in passing him a wedding band that Arthur noticed was already around your finger, “And with looks like that, you’ll have every man at the party jealous!”
Trelawney sent a wink in your direction as he finished, and despite your laugh at his compliments, you looked down at your feet and swallowed heavily.
Arthur felt terrible. How could he not? Here you were, the picture of perfection and you were being forced to pretend to be a man like his’s bride. You probably felt disgusted with the knowledge that you’d have to hold on to a man like him all night. His chest ached at the thought.
“Ain’t she looking real pretty, Arthur?” Tilly giggled, Mary-Beth beside her elbowing her side and covering her mouth to hide her fellow snickering.
You hadn’t been in the gang all that long. But for the time that you had, it because painfully obvious to everyone else that Arthur was very badly in love with you and was too much of a fool to ever do anything about.
You looked up at Tilly’s comment, staring into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur froze, then after a moment it was like his heart started beating again.
“You look beautiful sweetheart.”
You smiled back at him, but anything else was interrupted by the loud clap emitting from Dutch’s hands.
“Folks! It’s time to get moving. Everyone who’s coming, come on. Micah, Mrs Grimshaw, you’re in charge till our return. It’s time we make some money” With that, Dutch grinned manically, and left in the direction of their transport. Everyone else moved to get where they needed to be. Everyone except you and Arthur.
You closed the distance between you and Arthur, looking up at him from where you stood.
You held your arm out for his.
“Well, my darling husband, shall we get going?” You said, your voice slighting higher pitched and a daring smirk across your face.
Arthur interlocked his arm with yours, looking down into your eyes and smiling.
“Yes, my beautiful wife, I believe we shall.” Arthur ignored the fluttering in his chest as he felt the side of your body brush against his, and you began to walk towards the others together.
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mykneeshurt · 11 months
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Cat and Mouse
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Image - KC on Pinterest
Medium honour Arthur Morgan x F!reader
Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut
A/N - starting to feel inspired again. I love this pixelated man so much omfg. Not proof read. Just a quick fic I did today x
The night was humid and suffocating as you snuck up on the old plantation house in Shady Belle. The camp was alive with the distant warm glow of oil lanterns, music danced on the thick Lemoyne air as a guitar strummed in the distance. Hushed laughter and talking echoed amongst the trees that littered the small field.
That was until a familiar click of a revolver loading rang through your ears, as a cold steel barrel was forced into your temple. ‘Told you not to follow me’ a thick southern accent drawled into the darkness. Without even moving you sighed ‘hello Arthur.’ His gun was still pressed firmly into your skin as he turned your body, slamming you into the decaying stone wall.
The brim of his hat hid his eyes from view, a menacing smirk danced across his lips. ‘What chu doin here?’ His voice was low and firm, he told you clearly in Saint Denis not to follow him, but your curiosity got the better of you. So you tracked him. Through the city, through the swaps and to Shady Belle.
Looking up he peered at you, from under his hat, contempt written over his features. But with a hint of curiosity. He looked menacing in the darkness, the silver moon made his eyes glisten and shimmer. ‘Came to get me an outlaw. An expensive one at that, gonna lower your gun?’ you smiled, swiping your tongue across your teeth.
He regarded you for a moment, this wasn’t your first meeting. Not by a long shot. The two of you had been playing this game of cat and mouse for months. Slowly he lowered the gun and slipped it back into his holster. ‘That so?’ He lowered his head, his lips teasing the skin of your neck ‘bad men in these here woods miss. I ain’t the only thing you should be scared of.’
His breath traipsed along your skin, moist from the suffocating heat. Swallowing you clenched your thighs together, desperately trying to tame the ache that began to emanate from your cunt. ‘No? What else should I be scared of Morgan?’ Your breath hitched in your throat as you clenched your fists by your side.
Slowly he brought his hand to your face, running his calloused thumb along your lips. Pulling down gently your jaw dropped open, breathe getting caught in your chest. Which by now was heaving. Humming he placed his lips against your neck ‘hmmm, wild boar … snakes … crocodiles … raiders’ he trailed off wrapping his arm around your waist. Moaning softly you replied ‘ain’t none of them scare me.’
He smiled into your neck, pulling you closer ‘big brave girl huh? … well one of em should scare you sweetheart.’ Rolling your hips into him your arched your back off the wall ‘oh yeah? Which one?’
‘Me.’
Within a flash his hand was around your throat pulling your lips to his in a feverish kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck he lifted you onto his hips, immediately locking your legs around him. The kiss was a flurry of teeth, tongue and saliva, both of your fighting for dominance. You nipped at his lip causing him to growl into your mouth. Inhaling it like the finest drug it drove you further, scraping your nails along his neck.
Breaking the kiss for air your smirked at the tall handsome outlaw before you. ‘Take em off’ you ordered ‘fuck me Arthur.’ A cough of disbelief burst from his chest, normally he was the one in charge. Dropping you down he quickly undid his trousers, letting his thick veiny cock spring out. It never ceased to impress you.
Spinning you round he pushed your cheek hard into the stone wall. Unbuckling your jeans be pulled them down just to your knees, before firmly smacking his hand against your ass. ‘Fuuuuck I missed you’ he admitted between clenched teeth. ‘Yeah? Show me Arthur. Show me how much you missed me’ you whispered into the darkness. ‘Oh I’ll show you darlin’. I’ll show you …’
With that he ran his fingers along your slit, not surprised to find you soaking. You were always so wet for him, always so responsive. A groan of approval left his lips as he slipped a finger into you, stretching you ever so slightly. Hissing through your teeth you braced your arms against the wall.
He moved his fingers in and out, slowly at first before building into a rhythm. Feeling every fibre of your aching pussy, feeling how wet you were, feeling how your body responded to his touch. Quiet gasps left you with each movement, screwing your eyes shit you let the heavy night air swarm over you. He added another finger making you arch your back, weaving his hand into your hair he pulled you back into him.
‘Good girl.’ The praise slipped off his tongue like it was the devil himself speaking to you. Gritting your teeth you gave yourself over to him, succumbing to his every will, his every need. Putty in his hands.
In one swift motion he removed his fingers placing them in your mouth, you sucked them eagerly. Feeling his every growing erection poking into your ass. He revelled in the feeling of his fingers in your mouth, the silky feeling of your tongue on his fingers knowing you were getting off on tasting yourself. ‘Wan me to fuck this pussy of yours sweetheart? That what chu want?’
Nodding furiously you sucked his fingers clean, savouring your own justices as they danced along your taste buds. Spanking your ass once more he nipped your ear ‘spread your ass for me.’
Leaning back against the wall your pressed your shoulders into it, using your hands to spread your ass open for him. ‘Damn’ he whispered to himself, lining his cock up to your hole he pushed himself in. Your wet pussy drinking him in instantly, both of you moaned in unison as he filled you completely. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix as he fucked you against the wall.
His grip on your hips was deadly, bruising, all consuming. He slammed his body into yours, it was brutal, over and over again. You both moaned into the night as he dominated your mind, body and soul. Releasing one of your cheeks you reached down and played with your clit. ‘That’s it, jus’ like that darlin. Fuuuck’ he drawled, you could hear how close he was. His voice was wavered and tense.
‘Arthur … don’t stop … fuck’ you hissed biting your lip. Your muscles tensed under your moist shirt, pulling you closer and closer to oblivion. ‘Cum on my cock darlin’ … I got chu.’ He words of praise pushed you further and further, the way his voice growled in the darkness like some unknown deity from long ago.
Feeling yourself tighten you moved your fingers faster and faster. ‘Oh … fuck … Arthur right there.’ With one final thrust you fell into void of complete and utter pleasure, your hearing muffled and your throat went hoarse as you rode out your high. Bucking and clenching over his cock you rode out your high, biting into your hand to muffle your moans.
Arthur’s breath began to falter, catching in his chest as he neared his orgasm. Placing his hand on your shoulder he tried to stabilise himself as he pulled out. Shooting his cum all over your ass and back. Bending down he rested his head on your shoulder as he caught his breath. He chest heaved into your back, you could feel his heart thundering in his chest.
Humming to yourself you reached behind and cupped the back of his head ‘always a pleasure Arthur.’ He chuckled against your back before standing up, placing himself back into his trousers. He grabbed one of his gun rags from his pocket and cleaned you off before helping you stand.
Once you had tucked yourself in you placed your hair in a messy bun offering him a warm smile. Cupping your chin he kissed you firmly on the lips before staring into your eyes, ‘strangest bounty hunter I ever met.’
Placing a strand of hair behind his ear you giggled ‘only for you Mr Morgan. I could take you in if I wanted. But I like this game more than the money. Till next time’ you winked as you hopped up onto your horse, before galloping off into the Lemoyne night.
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chubbysciencenerd · 11 months
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∘°♡ Making It Up ♡°∘
Oral!fem/male receiving, fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, degrading slightly, nature/public/ outdoors, fem!first oral
̇ ̟ ෆ︵‿୨♡୧‿︵ෆ ̟ ̇
╭─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─╮
Javier promised to take you out fishing because you hated being cooped up at camp with nothing fun going on. You were talking to Sean as javier comes over and places a hand on your waist, “you ready to go fishing?” You answer excitedly “Yeah! Of course lets go!” You look at Sean and mumble a “sorry gotta go” and give him a apologetic smile before following Javi. He brings you to his horse, he stores the poles and bait on the horse before he gets on then proceeds to help you. You wrap your hands around his waist enjoying the connection between you two, he starts to ride out of camp. “So what made you want to go fishing of all things?’ He asks glancing back to get a glimpse of you. “Mainly because you’re always talking about it and its a nice time alone.” You knew you still had to pay him back and I thought that this could be the perfect opportunity. He laughs before speeding up.
Soon enough you were there, he gets off the horse then carefully helps you down. You look around and the spot was just absolutely beautiful. He comes up behind you with the polls. “Gorgeous isn’t it?” He says softly in that sweet voice of his. “Yeah, yeah it is.” You look at him over your shoulder before placing a soft kiss on his lips. “So answer me something mi amor, {my love} did you really want to come out here to fish?” You blush a little knowing damn well that was kinda true, at the same time you did honestly want to learn how to fish. “Half and half” He smiles kissing you again. He pulls away from you as he puts the rods and bait back on the horse. He tells you to stay there as he takes the horse into the trees a bit before tying him up to the tree. He comes back down and pulls you into a kiss placing his hands on your hips. You start walking backwards, as your back hit a tree Javier pushed you against it keeping you locked in place as the kiss starts to turn sloppy.
You slide your hand to his chest carefully feeling it before slowly dragging your hand down. You reach his heat as he pushes against your hand. You break from the kiss and move your head into his neck before you start leaving soft kisses, eventually turning into love marks and you didn’t care who saw them. Javier groaned as he took his hands to unbutton his pants, he was clumsy but made great haste. He slides them down with his boxers, and you quickly got to work stroking his length. He pulls his neck away before grabbing the back of your hair and dragging your head into a kiss. You push him forward a little staying with him, you turn him around and push him against the Tree. He lets go of your hair and pulls away. He stares you in your eyes panting, “please querida {darling}…” You kiss him before sinking down to your knees looking up at him as you tease him by slowly stroking his length teasing the tip with your thumb. He gasps before covering his mouth and trying his best to not toss his head back. He watches you full of lust.
You place a kiss on the tip before trailing kisses down his shaft. You drag your tongue on the under-side of his length up to the tip, you take most of him down your throat quickly he laces his finger through your hair as he unexpectedly starts bobbing your head on his length you squeeze your eyes shut as you bring your hands to his thighs gripping them tightly. You gag a few times when he first started but you quickly got decently used to it. You look up at him with tears in your eyes and god did he love it, watching you choke on his girth helpless. You both knew that if you needed to stop you tap his leg but you were more than fine as of now. He throws his head back mumbling some Spanish curses into the back of his hand, he soon after quickly pulls you off of him before pulling you back up to the ground. He spins you to where you are now in front of the tree, you knew exactly what was happening as this is what you guys had done a while outside of camp. You bring your hands and hold onto the tree as he drops your skirt down to your ankles, before you can even realize he shoved his full length in and started thrusting at a fast and hard pace. You could tell he had been holding back for a while with the way he was ramming into you, the thrust were sloppy and with no rhythm. He laces his fingers in your hair pulling your head up to hear your sweet sounds clearer.
“Di mi nombre! {Say my name!}” Javier shouts speeding up the pace slowly starting to lose whatever little rhythm he did have. “Javi! Javier~! You reply shakily, you were growing close and starting to grow overstimulated. With a few more sloppy thrust javier finishes quickly pulling out to avoid a pregnancy, especially with you two not knowing how far you want to take this relationship. You felt empty as he pulled out but he was quick to pulling you up and you burry your back into his chest. He places a soft kiss on your head and a few by your ear before whispering, “Did you finish mi amor? {my love}” You tiredly shake your head. “Let’s fix that then, shall we?” You look up at him over your shoulder as he kisses you before turning you around to face him. He picks you up as you wrap your legs around his waist he carries you to a nearby large rock, he sets you down on it before he gets on his own knees in between your legs. You didn’t know what he was about to do as all of the men you had been with in the past had no care about your own pleasure. He kisses up your thighs switching thighs each kiss before he gets to your heat, your face was beet red and oh did it get redder as his lips connect with your skin.
His mouth made quick work exploring your soaked folds adoring the taste, he groans into it sending vibrations to your body. You fall flat against the rock as he continues, you bite your hand knowing anyone nearby would hear you if you didn’t. His tongue starts to focus on your clit, your thighs tighten around his face as he found a new way to please you. You bring your free hand up to grope your breast almost to distract yourself so you could feel the pleasure longer.
Javier soon adds two fingers quickly curling them in and out to hit your sensitive spot, all of the things combined were driving you crazy. You felt like you were in a complete different reality, one where it was only you and him. Your toes curl as your thighs tighten around his head once again, your legs start to shake right as you finish on his face. He doesn’t stop but he slows down, your juices are too hard to resist. After he cleans you up as best as he can, he gives one last lick on you sensitive bud and your legs twitched as he did and he chuckled looking at the mess he made of you.
He gets back up picking you up and kisses you quickly on your forehead. “Are you alright? Was that too much?” You gave him a soft smile, “it was amazing.. I’ve never had a guy do that before. Thank you Javi.” He places a soft kiss on your lips before taking you back over to the tree. You hold onto it as Javi helps you back into your skirt, it was difficult when your legs felt like jello. He put you on his horse and rode you back to camp, he carries you to your guys tent as your half asleep. He puts you in your cot and covers you with his blanket, “I wish I could stay with you but I have.. things I need to deal with in town” You look up at him softly and nod as if you’re telling him that its fine, you were too tired to talk and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
╰─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─╯
(Im sorry if this isn’t as good as my first one, I’ve been having trouble sleeping pls lmk if you have any request for characters, kinks, etc. I do not write mlm as I would feel uncomfortable writing it as I am not a male. Ty for understanding and plssss tell me what i can do to improve!!<33)
P.s.[I love you and thank you for reading :)]
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the grizzly mountains
summary: After helping Jack build a snowman, (Y/n) sneaks off with her beloved mexican outlaw.
pairings: Javier Escuella x Reader, Jack Marston
warnings: fluff, kissing, making out
words: 917
a/n: Hope you enjoy this fic of sweet boi Javi <33
MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES
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With the blizzard finally gone, the camp is starting to come back to life. Arthur and Charles left this morning to go hunting. Some outlaws warm up at the campfire, while others follow their daily routines. Jack laughs at the sight of his favorite aunt. (Y/n) greets him with a tight hug, even lifting the boy and spinning him around. She would love to join the men on their hunting trips or patrol, but she also knows that the camp needs her here, that Jack needs her. He needs some distraction from his injured father.
“I‘ve got something for you, kid“, (Y/n) says with excitement in her voice. Reaching underneath her poncho, she shows Jack a carrot as well as a scarf. “Stole this one from Pearson, and the scarf from Dutch. This is our little secret, Jack“, she explains with a wide smile. “And I borrowed uncle Arthurs hat!“ Jack claps his hands happily as (Y/n) places the hat on top of his messy hair.
“Let‘s build a snowman, auntie“, Jack exclaims and starts rolling a snowball until it’s big enough. With his aunts help, he places two other snowballs on top. (Y/n) lifts the boy, so that Jack can give the snowman a face with Pearson’s carrot as well as a few stones. They place Dutch’s scarf around its neck and Arthur’s hat on top of its head. “He looks like one of us!“
As they continue to finalize their outlaw snowman with stones and sticks, Javier returns from patrol on his horse. He is halfway frozen to death, but the sight of his beloved (Y/n) warms his heart. With a smile on his lips, Javier takes care of Boaz, removing saddle and bridle. His back is facing the camp, so he doesn‘t notice the snowball fight between most of the girls. Tilly started it, hitting the back of (Y/n)’s head. The snowball fight quickly escalates. Jack loves every second of it, forgetting about his sad mother and injured father.
A scream reaches Javier’s ears. His worry for the whole camp causes him to turn around. Unfortunately, a snowball hits him right in the face. His eyes stay closed for a few seconds, until he wipes away the cold snow, staring right at (Y/n). She presses her lips together in a line. Then she starts laughing and runs away. Without thinking twice, Javier follows her and quickly catches up with her. Around the corner of a hut, he grabs (Y/n) by the waist and presses her against the wall.
“Got you, querida“, Javier whispers against her ear. He places a quick kiss to her cheek, soft giggles leave her mouth. One of his gloved hands caresses the spot on her cheek he just kissed. Their eyes meet and Javier can feel his whole body warm up. “Did you get in trouble whilst I was gone?“ (Y/n) shakes her head with a laugh and leans forward to meet Javier’s cold lips. Although she is the one pressed against the back of the hut, (Y/n) deepens the kiss and places her hands on Javier’s neck. The outlaw groans. (beloved)
“One second, querida“, Javier mumbles into the kiss and, reluctantly, takes a step backwards. He moves his left hand to his mouth, removing his glove with his teeth. Javier takes her in, noticing one of his ponchos on her. A grin forms on his lips as he touches the soft material. Then his cold fingers move to her cheek before his lips return to hers. Javier presses himself as close as possible against his love, letting his gloveless hand move from (Y/n)’s cheek to the poncho she stole from him and underneath her jacket. A gasp leaves (Y/n)’s lips, therefor Javier bites her lower lip.
“It‘s too cold, Javi“, (Y/n) whimpers as Javier’s cold fingers caress her naked skin. Her whole body starts to shiver, and she leans her head against the wall, breaking their kiss. Javier takes his chance and starts kissing her neck.
“I can think of a few things to keep you warm, bonita“, Javier says in a flirty tone, winking at (Y/n) with a wide smile. His lips meet hers once again, but their make out session gets interrupted by someone calling for (Y/n). Both sigh in disappointment, eventually part and take a look around the corner. (Y/n) winces as she lays eyes on Dutch, Arthur and Pearson, all reunited with the stuff she stole. Arthur kneels in front of Jack who is pointing directly at Javier and (Y/n). (beautiful)
“What have you done?“, Javier asks as he meets Dutch’s disappointed eyes. The three outlaws make their way towards the couple. The snow scrunches underneath their heavy boots. (Y/n) laughs full of distress, takes Javier’s hand and drags him away. “What have you done, querida?“
After running through the whole camp and causing some chaos, they finally hide behind the makeshift stables. They can see their breath in the cold air. “I might have stolen a few things for Jacks outlaw snowman“, (Y/n) admits while breathing heavily. She leans against Javier, who has an arm wrapped around her waist. He places a kiss on her forehead.
“You have no idea how much I love you. Tú eres perfecto, bonita!“, Javier confesses and presses (Y/n) closer to his chest. Her arms wrap around him, and she hides her face in his poncho. (You are perfect, beautiful!)
“Te amo, Javi!“, (Y/n) breathes with the sweetest accent Javier ever heard. (I love you, Javi!)
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morethanafanstuff · 1 year
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In defence of Molly...
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In my first playthrough years ago I disliked her. I thought she was a spoiled brat. But that was because I didn't understand her. Being more in the camp in my other playthroughs I changed my mind on her completly. And now I truly feel sorry for her. Now she does have one issue: She doesn't integrate herself into the gang at all. She's always away from others. Is it inside Dutchs and her tent, next to it or completly alone somewhere else. But at the same time I understand that for her it might be more difficult. Maybe this life isn't made for her and I think she's with the Van der Linde-Gang, because she truly loves Dutch. And seeing him treating her like shit makes it sad. He is manipulative. He gaslights her. When she tries to talk with him, he is telling her that she's too emotional, to keep herself together, that it isn't important enough. He treats her like everything is her fault, that all she is is too emotional. And truly I don't think he loves her the way she deserves it. In fact, we can witness how his "love" vanishes from chapter to chapter. And there were a few times were Molly tried to reach out for help. One time she tried to talk to Arthur, and I truly wanted to help her, but Uncle interrupted her and basically pushed her to the side and she went away. And this was not the only time. She really tried. So in some way maybe this was her start to integrate herself. And this is what makes me feel sorry for her. Because at some point she tried, but we simply couldn't help. She is not a spoiled brat. All she wants is to be loved by the men that treats her more like an object - because I am sure enough that she's good enough for some alone time in their tent at night. She wants to be heard and taken seriously, which Dutch does not do. Her behaviour isn't perfect. She doesn't do any work, no chores, because she refuses to be someones servant. I think this shows that she is not made for a life like this. But does that mean she deserves all of this? And then when Dutch disappeared and was stranded in Guarma, she thought he was dead. I think after everything, this was her breaking point. Because Dutch was the only person she really sticked to in the camp. She doesn't get along with Karen, Sean doesn't like her, and she never really talks to the others. So who is there? At this point she's alone in this changing world that doesn't want Outlaws anymore. And we know how everything turned out; when Dutch was back, she was drunk and claimed to be a traitor. That she was the one telling the Pinkertons everything. We all know now that she lied. And I truly think that was her way of finally getting Dutchs attention. Attention that he for a long time didn't gave her. I think all she wanted was him to hear her out, but of course that was a mistake. Yet she was drunk, so I can't blame her for her action. At the same time I can't blame Susan for killing her. Susan will be another post, because I kind of enjoy this. Now, if all of this wasn't bad enough, she didn't even get a funeral. Dutch ordered the others to burn her. Now I get the anger of the gang. Because they want to protect each other. And they didn't know she was lying. But knowing that she wasn't a rat, I truly mean it when I say that she didn't deserve that. Nothing that happened to her. She is not a bad person. She is flawed, she is not perfect, but she is a victim. A victim of Dutchs neglect and maybe the right word even is abuse. Molly deserves better. And I don't think she deserves the spoiled-brat-title.
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serawritesthings · 10 months
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CRAVE THE ROSE
summary: you were Arthur’s own slice of heaven in a world where it felt like everything he did brought him a step further to hell. pairing: arthur morgan x fem! reader tags: content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex word count: 6.1k
a/n: hello, lovelies! I'm finally done with my first fic; I hope it's worth a read. Please let me know what you think; I would much appreciate it!♡
Most nights at Horseshoe Overlook were quiet, ignoring Uncle's snoring and the girl’s quiet gossiping. Often, you joined them, finding their conversations amusing. You discovered that Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen had a wild imagination and a wilder sense of humor.
Unfortunately, they decided you would be the object of their gossip lately. More so, you and Arthur. Your relationship appeared to be very interesting to them, and they weren’t shy of making it known as they teased you for the man’s apparent infatuation with you.
Because of that, you remain behind a tree by the horses, mulling. You had no interest in speaking to the girls tonight, scared they would bother you. You didn't wish to be the center of gossip instead of the one chitchatting.
Sitting alone for the first time in a while allowed your thoughts to take over. You worried for him immensly, just like you always did when it came to Arthur. It wasn’t like your concern came from nothing, finding that trouble always followed him.
More times than not, he came home bloodied and bruised, and sometimes he didn’t come home at all. It made you feel useless to only stay in camp and think of every what-if that could happen to the unpredictable man, but you couldn't help it.
There was a lingering feeling of certainty when you met Arthur. You knew you were the same - you bruise a little easier than most, though in different places. The hurt manifested somewhere far inside of him, a place where his walls were so high you weren’t sure even he could put a crack in it. But something about him wormed itself into your heart and manifested the passage that led to your deepest thoughts and feelings.
"Whatcha doin' out here, honey?" A voice strapped with roughness spoke out behind you, surprising you. You glanced at Arthur towering over you, granting him an exasperated stare, although your heart sang at the sight of him in one piece.
"I'm hiding." He raised his eyebrow, looking entertained, settling his hands on his belt. 
"Now, what are you hidin' from?" A smirk appeared on his lips while he shook his head.
"The girls." A melancholy expression appeared on your face.
"Your hiding from… the girls?"
"Well, yes. It seems gossiping about us has become their favorite amusement." To speak about it made you scrunch your nose. You knew it was childish, but you were too irritated to care.
"I guess women never change, eh?" He studied you with a knowing smile while crouching down, touching your knee tenderly. You only scoffed at him.
"You gonna stay cooped up here like an angry little ball of fire all night?" He offered you his hand, snickering.
"Yes." Peering forward with sharp eyes, you avoided his hand.
Arthur chuckled as he gently placed his hand under your chin, gazing into your eyes. Your pout made him frown, and swiftly he tossed you over his shoulder and began walking.  
"I ain't lettin’ you linger out here all night. " You gasped, eyes facing the ground, feeling his shoulder jab into your stomach with every step.
"Now, just what do you think you're doing?!" A screech escaped you while Arthur only laughed, giving your rear a playful slap. 
"They'll see us!"
"They're drunk and asleep; calm your horse's missy."
Your eyes grew small at his comment, and you tried thinking of a way to make him release you. Lifting your hands, you grabbed the back of his pants, trying to push them down his hips. He chuckled at you and kept walking.
"Now, what do you think you're doin´?" He readjusted your squirming frame against his broad shoulder.
"It's okay, though; I like you a little feisty." 
"Oh, I'll show you feisty." You continued trying to push his pants down further.
You kept bickering on the path to Arthur's tent. He was correct; there wasn’t a single person awake. You could see the smug smirk on his face when he realized he was right, but he focused on keeping his pants up, which proved futile. What a sight you two were. 
He chuckled as he placed you on his bed, standing tall over your small frame. Amid your anger, now forgotten after your lighthearted bickering, you had failed to remember how much you missed him. Arthur had been away for a long time, leaving you to worry about him constantly. It made you feel useless, never knowing where or what he was doing. But he was here now, which instantly lifted your spirits.
Raising the corners of your mouth into a soft smile, you looked up at him through your lashes, grabbing his gun belt and bringing him closer to you till you felt the chilly surface of his buckle against your cheek. Putting your arms around his waist, you rested your cheek against his middle and sighed.
"Are ya done trying to pull my pants down now?" Arthur only raised his eyebrow, wondering where the feisty girl went.
"Mm." The fabric of his jeans silenced your voice as you relished in what was solely Arthur.
"I missed you so much." Your tone suddenly wavered, and you wrapped your arms tighter around him. It felt like he would disappear from you.
Feeling his coarse hand land softly on your head, he ran his fingers through your hair that was soft under his palms. Arthur wasn't good at feelings and often found himself tongue-tied when you spoke to him like this. His heart churned at your sudden display of emotions.
He missed you more than you could possibly know and spent most of the chilly nights in the wilderness, missing your soft voice and warm hands he had grown accustomed to. Before you, it didn’t matter where he was since his home was where he put his bedroll.
Now, though, his home was in your warm embrace. The ghost of your eyes tormented his every move, prodding him to return to you so the glimpses he thought he caught of you would become a reality. 
How well you knew your Arthur. He was always quick with words but never with you. When you started paying attention to one another, dragging the words out of him required much effort. Stubborn as a mule, he was.
"Ah, I missed ya too, honey." His voice grew rough as he looked down at you. A warm feeling coursed through you at his words, pressing your cheek further against the cloth of his jeans, face illuminated by the lamp on the worn bedside table. The light bounced off the closed tent, creating a warm atmosphere.
Keeping close to Arthur, you looked up at him and staring back at you was a man with warm, soft-blue eyes and tousled honey-blond hair escaping his hat, looking slightly longer since you last saw him. Your chest tightened at the look he gave you, making you feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen. 
Now, standing between one of your legs, you felt small beneath his tall frame. He felt many things watching you beneath him, face resting on the side of his hips, face too close to his guns for his liking, but he didn't move away. He felt all his limbs grow heavier when he observed you, finding only you to have this effect on him. 
Your palms grazed the guns at his sides, being careful when lifting them from the holsters. They were heavier than you expected, not familiar with holding the weighty metal of a gun. The coarse leather of his gloves grasped your hands and lifted them with you, putting them on the bedside table.
A shrill ran through you, watching him grab them. He looked intimating, handling them like second nature compared to your unsure hands. It reminded you of the kind of man he was, or rather the man he had to be.
He could tell you felt wary; a familiar feeling of protectiveness he always directed towards you surging through him. You smiled slightly and stared at him through your lashes, palm stroking his thigh gently. He could feel himself melt at your behavior, realizing you were teasing him; testing the waters.
Most times, being intimate together went about the same way as you were inexperienced, and Arthur not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But he could feel the air had changed, making him stiff with intrigue and curiosity.
The tension in the tent was searing as you unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You were used to him taking control, but you felt unusually bold in his presence this night. Suddenly, Arthur suddenly lifted you to stand on the bed, making you tower over him as a breathless laugh left you.
Putting both of your hands on his stubby cheeks, he wrapped his arms around your middle, breathing in your sweet scent as he pulled you closer. Your stomach churned at having him this close, feeling his warm breath fan over you, making your nipples stiffen against the closeness of his mouth.
Slowly, he enclosed his mouth around your nipple, covered by the fabric of your blouse–being this close it proved hard for him not to. You closed your eyes at the sudden feeling, thumbs gently stroking the scruff of his beard as he grazed his tongue over your clothed bosom wantonly.
You lifted your trembling leg to rest at his side, his arm immediately coming to rest on your backside, bringing you closer to him. He caressed you tenderly as you felt him press his tongue over your thin blouse, making you moan slightly under your breath. 
Opening your eyes, you looked down at him, the sight more erotic than anything you have ever seen. He held your gaze through hazy eyes, his reddening lips glistening slightly with saliva, resting on the now wet patch on your shirt. You lifted your hands, grabbed ahold of the hat almost falling off his head, and dropped it to the ground.
Running your fingers through his tousled hair, you brushed the wild pieces behind his ear, unkempt by his hat. He rumbled appreciatively at your action and you felt the rough leather from his gloves sneaking under your shirt that was folded into your skirt, finally touching your skin.
You were always so soft, and most of the time, he felt undeserving to touch something so perfect with his rough, unlawful hands, roughened by the hardship his life had brought onto him. Never should anyone who has done such malicious things put their hands on you–yet here he was, soiling you.
Your soft skin felt heavenly under his rugged palm as if delicate hands sculpted it with adoration so stout there couldn’t be a more beautiful creation than the one standing before him. He felt shameful but didn't have the strength to pull away; he never did. It felt too good to touch you, almost bordering on torture, the way he kept crawling after you like a starved man never getting enough.
Arthur tightened his grip on you, paying attention to your other side with his mouth, moving slowly as your breath hitch. You let your head fall over him, resting your cheek on the top of his head that you now cradled, enjoying the moment while wishing you could be in his arms forever.
Running your hands over his broad shoulders, you suddenly felt something wet touch your fingers. You perked up, looking at your hands. Covering your fingertips was a dark red substance. It was sticky like it had been there for a while.
"Arthur." You murmured, a light worry detectable in your voice. He didn't answer you, instead grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up his waist, burying his head in your chest. You wanted to giggle at him and probably would have if concern didn't seep into your mind.
"Arthur" Your voice was low, this time sounding more collected. 
"It ain't my blood, darlin’," he mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. You felt yourself relax, content no one had hurt him, but it left you wondering whose blood it was. "Don't you worry your pretty little head bout that," he said, like he could read your mind. 
Arthur sat on the bed and it creaked under his weight, keeping you on his lap with your legs at either side of his thick thighs. He pushed your hesitant hips snugly against his, letting out a hum of appreciation, finally feeling your weight where he wanted you most.
Lifting his head from your chest, he gave you a look-over, and what a sight you were. Blush covered your cheeks as you looked at him with blissful but still worrisome eyes, a slight pink shade running down your neck into the cleavage of your blouse.
You brought your face close to his, feeling the roughness of his beard scrape against your cheeks as you leaned in, the worrying thoughts long gone as you felt his large hands slither into your skirt, kneading the soft flesh harshly under his palm.
You squeaked quietly, surprised by the sudden contact, your lips pausing, barely touching as you breathed in each other's air as your head spun in anticipation. The feeling of Arthur's warm hands so close to your exposed core made heat form in your lower belly and in your moment of bliss, you suddenly felt his lips on yours.
"Arthur." You whimpered against his mouth. Hearing his name from your mouth so pleadingly made the ache in his chest cramp at his heart, feeling the familiar warmth of pleasure spread. Amid his tongue massaging yours so sweetly contrasting the harshness of his hands, you lowered your hips softly.
The roughness of his jeans touching your center made a shockwave of rippling pleasure spread through you, making you choke out a mix between a moan and a cry. You lifted your chest slightly, leaning your head backward, making your hair fall in waves behind you.
Hugging Arthurs's head to your bosom, you felt his mouth on your breast once again. The feeling was too much, making your whole body tense as you tried to bring him closer. He hastily grabbed your blouse, dragging it out from the top of your skirt, and seeing he couldn't lift it over your head without unbuttoning it, he held the fabric in the middle, ripping the buttons quickly and exposing you to him. You wanted to complain, but feeling his mouth wrap around your now-bare nipple made you lose your train of thought.  
They grew hard under the assault of his tongue; Arthur was sure he would’ve bitten them if he didn’t control himself. You were breathing frantically over him as his mouth moved against you, and he could hear how fast your heartbeat was.
He nuzzled the soft flesh, teeth grazing on the round bottoms of your breasts until he sucked on the peaks. You unknowingly motion your round hips in his lap, clearly getting worked up from his touch. His hand engulfed your hips, helping you rock back and forth on his lap.
The added pressure his hands brought made the rough material against your undergarments feel delicious as he moved his hips with yours, pushing you down every time you met his pelvis. The action was desperate, a silent plea for the bittersweet pleasure you sought within each other. His hands ran up your back, caressing the soft skin that shivered. Despite the chilly night, you were warm under his hands, calling for him to put his hands on you. You were beckoning him closer.
The moment was tender but filled with desperation that always seemed to linger around you. You ran your hands over Arthur's back, feeling the rough fabric of his worn-out shirt you knew so well. His broad shoulders bulged under your soft caresses as you could see his muscles tighten at your touch, his movements growing bolder as he once again placed his hands under your skirt, letting the fabric rest above your hips, exposing you to him. You felt him knead the warm flesh under his palms as he pushed you against him harder than before, pushing his crotch into yours, feeling the delicious warmth of your core against his bulge that strained against his pants. You could feel him under you, your face growing hot as his prominent member sat hard against you, pushing against its confinements. 
"Oh," You could not help letting out a quiet moan as heat traveled through your body when you felt him. He stopped and looked up at you, leaving a string of spit between your breasts and his swollen lips. The look in his eyes made your breath hitch, his eyes hazy with a glint of warmth in them. 
"Something wrong, honey?" His voice was low, almost sultry, and his hands softened against your bottom, no longer continuing his harsh treatment. The blush warmed your cheeks, realizing how exposed you were next to the fully dressed man. Having been lost in the moment, you hadn't noticed. But you did now. Arthur did, too, and praised the almighty; he didn't care if Colm O’Driscoll himself came and shot him right at this moment because he could die happy. 
"No, I…" You tried to explain, but he seemed more focused on removing the ruined blouse from your arms, unable to help himself as he placed a few more kisses on the underside of your breasts. “I… uh…” The words were stuck in your throat, turning your brain into mush. 
He took your hand, placing it on the lower side of his stomach, showing where he wanted your touch. You were timid, careful, and softly caressed the part over his waistline. You could tell he was growing impatient. His hands returned to your backside as he placed more kisses on your neck, slowly inching closer to your warmth while lifting you slightly, leaving room for your hand to travel further down. Cold fingers ran along the sides of your throbbing heat, teasing you and making you stiff with anticipation. Reaching your mouth, he placed his chapped lips on your soft ones, humming as he claimed you in the kiss. Thinking he would finally touch you, he suddenly lowered his hands and caressed your inner thigh, running his hands up and down. He then grabbed your hand, fitting it against his rigid member.
A relieved sigh left his body as he felt your small hand finally touch him. The relief only lasted so long before he felt the immense pleasure striking through his body at your soft caresses, hands leisurely moving up and down. They were unsure as they caressed him, but oh, they felt so good. Arthur felt his body go limp, almost like his muscles turned into heavy stones, as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.
You let out a breathless giggle as you grew more confident when you saw his desperation for your touch. Hugging his head to your chest with one hand embedded in his hair, the other continued to move against him. Slowly, you took one finger and stroked the tip that strained against his pants. A heavy groan left his throat when you touched the sensitive spot, although the feeling felt muted from the layers of clothes.
You looked down beside his head to unfasten the suspenders holding up his jeans. You let them hang over his shoulders as your hands unzipped his jeans, unbuttoning a few buttons on his union suit so you could wriggle your hand inside.
First, your fingers touched a patch of hair under his belly button that led down to his member, the muscles tensing in his stomach. You followed it down, feeling Arthur’s warm breath against your shoulder. 
"Christ alive!" The words wormed their way from his throat, sounding strained. You had winded your nimble fingers into his pants, fingertips feeling over the ridge beneath his cock. The touch alone sent a white flash of pleasure through his whole body. Smiling sheepishly, you rubbed your thumb up against the frenulum of his member, coaxing harsh noises from the man.
His head lay limp on your shoulders as his now sweaty hair tickled your skin, your actions turning his brain into mush. Your hand leisurely pumps his cock, going as slow as he can take it as you feel something warm start sliding down the back of your hand.
Curiously, you tried to look between your tightly knit bodies, leaning slightly away from Arthur for a moment. Although you didn't get the chance to look before his arms wound around your waist, bringing you closer to his broad form yet again. He lifted his head like he had woken from a deep slumber, lids heavy as he spoke.
"What kind of spell do you have me under, woman?" He rolled his hips up to meet your hand as it descended at the base of his cock. You readjust on his lap, scooting back slightly to gain more leverage for moving your arm. Arthur's eyes shut tight; his brows furrowed as you brought your other hand to his cheek, caressing it lovingly with your thumb as you gazed at him with warm eyes.
Being this close made you see him more clearly: the slight sunburns on the tall places on his face from being out in the sun all day, the lines on his forehead permanent from his constant frowning, and the thin layer of dirt covering his skin from the endless hard work he put up with. Too focused on what you were doing, he didn’t notice your stare, but his eyes found yours already looking at him when your hand slowed down. 
At that moment, his lust drowned in his love for you.
Sometimes, he found you looking at him like that, and it was safe to say it baffled him. The tenderness in your eyes made him tense, unsure. He wasn't used to your affection, but your every move was an act of pure fondness for him. Although it puzzled him, he craved your attention at him at all times and boasted at having such a woman at his hands. A woman no doubt many men surely dreamed of for the rest of their lives if they ever got the chance to lay their eyes on you. 
He felt your hand release the grip on his member, letting its now red, swollen tip rest against his stomach. Nimbly, you unbuttoned the other buttons on his union suit, your other hand sneaking under the fabric to touch the revealed skin, caressing his chest slowly as you reached the last button.
Running your hands from his chest to his shoulders, you let the fabric fall on his arms as you stroked over the broad muscles of his thick arms, appreciating their size. He noted that your wandering hands had grown bolder and relished in your touch. You leaned into him, his arms tightening around you to help you closer as you scooted up in his lap so you could reach his neck with your lips.
You heard Arthur grunt as your exposed cunt made contact with his cock when you raised your hips slightly, dragging your wet folds to his tip, letting it rest there as your warm lips put nimble kisses on the sweaty skin under his jawline. His shaft twitched when the muscles in his stomach clenched, the tip dripping precum on his skin as he felt his sack tighten.
"Do you want to kill me?" Breathlessly he spoke to you. Smiling through your kisses, you relished the power you seemed to have over him. "Maybe." You giggled against his skin, continuing to place timid kisses along his neck and pretending to bite him with your teeth. He scoffed at your playfulness, grabbing your bottom and grinding you over his swollen head.
A startled moan left your wet lips, surprised by the sudden contact. The pleasure that shot through your body was sweet but laced with a sharpness that made you quiver in his grasp. It felt delicious; the anticipation of the movement filled every inch of you with deep shivers that racked through your already shaking body.
Your mouth was left gaping against his shoulder, your lingering kisses paused by Arthur pushing you against him in small motions so he could feel the delicious friction your swollen lips created against his rigid member. 
"You want me to touch you, darlin'?" His gruff voice spoke. You mewled against him, all traces of the dominance you thought you had for a second go, and he didn't even have to try. It made you realize he only let you because he wanted to.
Calmly, his fingers eased toward your wetness that now almost seemed to drip down your thigh in complaint at being untouched for so long. Two of his fingers parted to stroke either side of your lips, almost throbbing as you clenched around nothing. The strokes continued, never touching you where you wanted him to. You were going crazy. How could he tease you so?
"Arthur." Your voice was quiet and begging, an undertone of wholehearted want seeping through. He hummed against you, lifting your head to place his lips on yours as his fingers finally disappeared beneath your wet folds, gliding toward your clit and resting there. He began drawing small circles that blur your vision as your eyes rolled back, letting out ungodly sounds muted against his lips. His lips continued to move against you, but when he noticed yours weren't, a low chuckle escaped him. Seeing you sitting on top of him with your blouse discarded and skirt lifted to reveal the tempting flesh to his eyes, as your face showing nothing but pure pleasure, drove him mad. The pads of his fingers are rough against your delicate parts, only adding to the bliss surging through your body. As he stroked you gently, your back arched as your hands frantically grabbed his arms. You feel your hands shake, your grip tight on his biceps as his two fingers sink into your hole. You gasped at being filled, clenching your walls tight around his fingers. The stretch burned, his fingers thicker than yours.
Sweet moans reach Arthur’s ears as he moves against your spongy walls, the squelching sound of him entering you filling the quietness of the night. Knuckle deep in you, he bends them expertly, causing your breath to hitch, making you spread your thighs wider for him as you grind down on his hand. His motions were rapid as he dove deep into your heat. Your thighs contracted as you felt your whole body tense, his arms moving underneath your touch.
“Oh, Arthur, please.” You spotted his warm eyes staring into yours when you turned your gaze up at him. Your eyes were pleading with him to take you, tears brimming at the intense feelings he filled you with. He knew what you wanted but had to ensure you were ready, knowing you would hurt otherwise. 
“I know, honey, just a little more.” Arthur caressed your hair softly as his jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his forehead as his eyes were stuck on you. He felt hopeless when you looked at him like this. You could get him to do whatever you wanted when looking at him like that; hell, Arthur would even kill for you if you asked. He was wet with your slick, his fingers jamming inside you as you lifted your legs, trying to escape his assault. The sudden change of pace made the pleasure unbearable. Not a single sound left your mouth as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth hung open. He grabbed your hips, bringing you down against his fingers so you couldn’t escape.
Arthur hoisted you up, fingers leaving your dripping heat as he placed you over his throbbing head. Feeling your wetness wrap around him made his vision blur, ears ringing from the blood that rushed from his head. You leaned back, placing your hands on his knees as his hands found your hips. You sank slowly, watching his member disappear between your folds. The unison makes your heart swell, the thought of your body becoming one running through you like warm whisky, setting your blood afire. 
Arthur’s breathing was heavy, his hands shaking slightly from the intenseness of the moment. Every movement was a silent plea for the moment never to end, wanting to stay connected for all eternity in each other’s embrace. The world disappeared around you,  becoming a blur. The only thing you saw was each other as you moved over him, feeling him lift you to the top to lower you so you could hug him warmly. Your walls clamped down on him, his mushroom head prodding deep inside your spongy walls, eliciting whines from your open mouth. Arthur was used to being quiet, but you were struggling, terrified someone would hear. You wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation if you were.
“Come here, darlin’.” He placed his brawny arms under your thighs, his member leaving you as he stood up and laid your back gently on the bed, his hand under your head. Always so careful. Your arms reached for him, seeking his solace and safe embrace as he returned to you, putting his weight on you as close as he could without hurting you. He entered you again as his head rested in the crevice of your neck, panting. He stuffed you full, fuller than you’ve ever been. Your cunt stretched obscenely around him, lips sealing around his cock with a snug, velvet grasp. He set the pace this time. His muscular frame was going slow, but his strokes were hard; your body was being pushed up the bed from the harshness of his thrusts. He brought you deeper into the mattress whenever you felt him dive back inside. Your legs found their way around his waist, bringing him closer to you. Arthur loves how you cling to him, helping you by holding you close as he prods you deeper. He takes your hand, bringing it to your chest and placing it between your breasts as he murmurs something in your skin. You’re too blissed out to hear what as his voice melts like honey at the base of your neck. 
“Oh god!” You cry out between his thrusts, moonlight seeping through the folds of the tent and splashing his skin. His palms tremble against you from the effort. He cooed at your noises, shushing you by capturing your lips with his. You had messed up his hair in your blissful frenzy, and his eyes were glossy with lust. His hands ran down the side of your body that arched underneath him, grabbing your thigh and pushing the plush skin up to rest beside you so he could bury the whole cock inside you. You almost felt him in your guts as he prodded against your flesh, leaving you to mumble nonsense into his mouth between the gasps that escaped you from the force of his thrusts. The slide of his length against the silky, slick clench of your cunt is nothing less than ambrosial.
Arthur breathes heavily between clenched teeth as you tighten around him. He slowed his pace to draw himself almost entirely out of you before filling you again with a languid thrust. The coil inside him was tightening, threatening to snap. He was holding you so close now, shielding you from the world as you lay underneath him, eyes glazed with a faraway look. Each caress from his hand said the words his sex-addled mind couldn’t make his mouth form.
I love you
He wrapped his arm under your waist, supporting your arching body, pistoning you now with brutal efficiency. Still, affection lingered in everything he did. He never gripped you too hard as his rough hands remained gentle. For you. Only for you. His hands slipped down the planes of your stomach to apply gentle pressure to the hooded bundle of nerves, sending a shock through you like a burst of electricity. Whatever words you tried to speak came out as little more than a garbled cry as he teased furious circles over your still swollen clit, arms tight against his neck.
“Please.” Lust-filled sounds left you as you begged. You didn’t know what for, his assault leaving your thoughts in shambles. He doubted there was a more beautiful sight than the woman he loved unraveling under the force of his thrusts. Your walls clenched around him, contracting as you sucked him more profoundly into your cunt. 
“I love you!” You cried into his ear; Arthur’s eyes shut tight as his hips spluttered, pumping deeper inside you, noises he let out erupting from his lips in a sound that could only be likened to a primal whine. With a final uneven snap of his hips, the coil inside him snapped, and his release spilled inside you. His forehead rested between your shoulder blades as he trembled, your hands resting in his hair lovingly amidst the tremors running through your body. Arthur’s hips snapped up into you one last time, pushing up into you as far as possible to continue feeling the warmth and tightness of your cunt. His cum spurted out, coating your walls and escaping your entrance that he was stuffing with his cock. He gripped your thighs, moving his hips languidly, basking in the sharp pleasure running through him as his vision faded.
You could feel him relaxing in your grasp, heavy breathing leaving him as he gently kissed your trembling skin. You hummed over him at his touch, a pleasureful little sound that, despite being wholly spent, had him wondering if he could muster up the energy to retake you as his head lifted to claim your lips, tongue flickering lazily out to tangle with your own. Arthur grabbed your thighs that were wound tightly around his waist as he scooted down the bed, pressing them to flush against the mattress. He spread you wide, your body covered in sweat and cum, exposed before his eyes as he wasted no time putting his mouth on your puffy cunt. His tongue was warm as he entangled it in your wetness. Your hands tried to grip your hair, sheets, and headboard to find stability until they rested in Arthur’s hair. He could feel you pull on his roots, the feeling making him groan against you. The sound created vibrations against your sensitive clit. It felt like his mouth was eating you whole as he nuzzled as close as he could, sucking ferociously on your tender flesh. His tongue entered you, making you dizzy as blood buzzed in your ears. You looked down at him, breath hitching as you found his hazy eyes already on yours. It felt sinful to keep eye contact with him as he performed such a sensual act on you, but his admiring eyes left you searing with pleasure. You couldn’t look away, not yet. You felt him wind his arms under your thighs as he gripped your inner thighs, sitting up so he was resting on his heels. 
“Arthur!” You exclaimed at the sudden motion. Your head rested on the bed as Arthur lifted you off it, his arms wrapped around your stomach, hugging you tightly against him as he buried his head further into your cunt. The air left you from his actions, your legs hitting his back to escape the frenetic torture he put you through. Wet noises filled the tent, Arthur’s dark eyes gazing down at you. You looked sinful, he thought. Usually so innocent, but at this moment, with your hair spread out on the messy sheets, a pink flush covering your cheeks, and dazed eyes staring up at him, you looked like he had corrupted you and filled every inch of you with pure ecstasy. He lifted his mouth from you, the lower part of his face glistening wet as his fingers found your clit. They stroked you gently as he hummed at your quiet mewls.
“Gettin’ close, honey?” Arthur cooed as you stared up at him with glistening eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. Your expression told him enough, so he lowered his head again and extended his tongue inside you, massaging your walls. It felt good, so good that high-pitched whines started leaving you. His one hand found your mouth, muffling the sounds. Your hips began twitching, moving against his mouth as you struggled between putting distance from his lips and pulling him closer. His fingers were relentless, rubbing you faster to where you heard ringing in your ears from the searing pleasure you felt coursing through you. The fire pooling low in your abdomen started spreading, leaving a burning trail as it flowed through your every vein. Your head rolled back against the sheets, mouth open wide, but no noise left you as hot tears fell from your eyes. The world slowed down, your orgasm shattering your body. Rippling through you, it made you tense up, your walls pulsing around Arthur’s tongue as he slowly massaged your insides, intensifying your orgasm. Your hips started jerking against him, his arm holding you still as he hummed against you while observing you underneath him. 
The world before you was blurred when your eyes slowly opened, the ringing now faint as you felt Arthur kiss the inside of your thigh, his hand rubbing your stomach soothingly. He lowered you onto the bed as your eyes gained focus. He could feel you gaze at him as he lifted you to lay your head on the pillow, caressing your cheeks. It was quiet; the only thing cutting through the air was your frantic breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding between you as your trembling hand brushed his sweaty strands behind his ears. 
“I love you,” He mumbled against your skin, eyes peering up at you. There was a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, and it took a few seconds for you to recognize it. Remorse. “But I don’t deserve you.” He sounded defeated, eyes staring absentmindedly like he was off somewhere else. It was a rarity for him to be this honest with you, but his words rang true. He didn’t deserve you; he knew it, you knew it, and everyone around you knew it. But he had you, body and soul. He had every part of you, even the parts you wanted to shield from both him and the world. His arms wrapped around you, covering you in his safe embrace, and your heart ached inside you when gazing at the man in front of you.
Before you could speak, he placed his lips against yours. There wasn’t much to be said anymore, your hearts speaking the words your lips couldn’t utter.
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the-great-pretender02 · 5 months
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Those opening shots of John meeting Bill are so good 😭
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emmcfrxst · 7 days
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can you imagine telling arthur that he makes you feel safe for the very first time? he would be absolutely starstruck, completely speechless because he doesn’t believe he’s a good man by any means, hell he’s killed before and more than once, he’s beaten and robbed and threatened and he doesn’t even trust himself most days but you— beautiful, kind, angelic you— feel safe with him? you actually seek out his presence for reassurance? his existence makes you feel less afraid of the world? i think it would hit him SO deep, not only because he enjoys being around you and appreciates you in general, but because he’s never had someone feel safe around him before; in this moment he gets a glimpse of himself from your point of view and allows himself to be more than the mindless killer he thinks he is— he allows himself to be human, to be Arthur Morgan.
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marstonator · 11 months
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happy pride month rainbow babies!! 🌈
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incorrect-rdr2 · 11 months
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Arthur: John what are you doing?
John: I’m having a cigarette???
Arthur: john your hands are empty, you’ve been staring at this tree with your jaw hung open for two hours
John:…
Arthur: what the fuck did you smoke
(Lololol i can imagine John greening out on his first time smoking weed)
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