Red Dead Redemption X Reader - Tumblr Posts

I am thinking of starting to make some Arthur Morgan x Readers/ Imagines for my fellow folk on tumblr who can’t stop being obsessed w him -

Send some ideas of things you want written about him?

🤠🤠

Playing Dress Up

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.

Shooting Your Shot

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 3.4K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You reached out bravely and touched his upper arm.

“Thank you, Arthur. Truly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He answers.

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

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

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

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

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

“And I thought it was just me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Additional Content:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Requests open <3

Working on ‘Playing Dress Up’ part two, but in the meantime please send some requests so I can upload some shorter fics in the meantime! Open to anything :)

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

Period Pains

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Arthur.”

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

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

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

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

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

I have written the first part and it’s already about 1k and each section will be about the same length.

Also thank you to the anon who sent in a request! I love the idea and will be writing and posting as soon as I can. As always, if anyone has any ideas or requests please let me know!

Hiii, i don’t think many people will see this but does anyone have a Red dead redemption discord server I could join?? I really need some friends to play red dead online with 😭

RDR2, Micha Bell

I know, I'm surprised it's not a Beetlejuice smut I wrote😳

Possible TWs: cursing, sexual tension, sex, piss kink.

"Miss Y/L/N. Would you come over here please?" Dutch asked as he saw you passing through camp. You stopped by thinking it would be something quick. Seeing Micah next to Dutch made you slightly frown. What was that scumbag doing there when Dutch had called you over. Micah watched you from under the brim of his hat. His gaze stuck on you. It was infuriating having him look at you like that. You focused your attention on Dutch to avoid Micah the best you could.

What you heard next made you internaly roll your eyes. Of course it had to be something to do with Micah. Why else was he hanging around Dutch. "Miss Y/L/N, I'm sending you and Mr. Bell here out to see if there is anything of worth at this big farm Hosea saw the other day." You were shocked. No, why would Dutch send you out with god damn Micah. The biggest asshole in camp. Micah stood there with his dumb smirk and his hands resting on his gunbelt. Hell no. You didn't want to go out working with this creep. You opened you mouth to protest, but were cut short as Dutch continued. "I'm sending you together to look like you're some sort of couple or whatever. To look less suspicious if you should get to close for their liking. Let me know if you see anything worth a job when you get back."

Dutch turned and walked away. Probably to read or think of more plans as he usually does. You turned your head back to Micah with a dissatisfied frown. Why? This man was a menace. Micah watched you and shot you that shit eating grin as he started talking. "Looks like me and you is doing some work for Old Dutch, missus Bell." Micah mocked you. Knowing damn well he's trying to get on your nerves. He patted your shoulder and chuckled as he passed you. Your cheeks felt hot. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Taking a second to brace yourself before joining him. This was going to be a long day.

You sat behind Micah on Baylock. He actually showed some sort of kindness when helping you get up. Probably the most he'd ever show to anyone. As the horse trotted away from camp, you noticed something you forgot about. Something that you were interrupted from doing when Dutch had called you over. You had to go. You hadn't relieved yourself since you woke up this morning. And now it's later in the evening. You cursed to yourself in a low whisper. It didn't help sitting on a horse either. All the ups and downs are not helping your bladder at all. You had unintentionally held a closer grip on Micah after you noticed you had to go. Micah registered your low cursing and the difference in your grip. With his usual sly voice, he asked you. "Say, you ain't getting scared back there, are ya? We have barely left camp." He chuckled and looked ever so slightly over his shoulder. You were taken by surprise at how he looked at you. The tone in his voice kept up the teasing asshole shtick. His voice sounded more annoyed, but his face told a different story. You just gave him an annoyed look and turned your head away. "No, Micah, I'm not fukcing scared." He chuckled at your reply. Smirking as he answered. "A little feisty today, are we? Maybe this trip won't be all boring then, sugarpie." You rolled your eyes. "Ugh." Why is he calling you sugarpie of all things. You knew he was trying to irritate me, but something about it felt kinda sweet somehow. Even for a guy like Micah. You shook your head and watched the landscape to distract yourself.

After a good while, you noticed the sun started to set. How far away was this place? You hadn't stopped once since you left camp, so you had never gotten the opportunity to get a second to yourself. You really had to go soon. It made you grumble softly. You squeezed your eyes shut. You weren't quite sure how long you would be able to hold it. For a second, you forgot who you were riding with and rested your head forward on Micahs back. He froze up a little. A bit surprised that you had even wanted to lean on him. He didn't mind someone like you leaning on him if he was honest. But then again, he had to stay focused. "Woah there, missy, you getting sleepy back there or what? This ain't no snooze cruise if you hadn't noticed." His slightly annoyed statement shook you up again. You let out an annoyed sigh and shot him a question back. "Are we there yet or what?" He scoffed and laughed. He liked how you replied. Made it more fun to poke at you. He liked being able to have some heated back and forth. "Boy do you have an attitude today, miss? I kinda like it." You got a slight chill sent through you. He only wants to get under your skin to annoy you, so you gave him a short reply. "Gross." Micah looked down at your grip round his waist. He grinned, knowing it was easy to poke at you right now. "Well, for someone who thinks I'm gross, you sure have got a good grip on me girly." You froze at his words. A pink blush krept into your cheeks. You hadn't even noticed. You were so focused on not wetting yourself. What could you possibly say to that. "That's..I'm just holding on so I won't fall." You tried hiding your stuttering. "Yeah, yeah, keep tellin yourself that. I ain't believing you." Micah slowed the horse down. The farm was pretty close now. He saw a small gathering of trees and bushes that would make a good place to scout from. You both got off the horse and looked over at the farm. You got your binoculars to get a good look. It was big. There was a lot of animals and diverse crops. The main house was big. Looked like a farm worth robbing.

Micah sighed and put his binoculars away. "Well, we should probably head back now. Dutch will probably be glad to hear what we have to say about this place." Micah saunters back to his horse. Being extra slow, almost waiting. You really didn't want to tell this man that you had to go. He'd probably make fun of you or humiliate you in any way he could. You didn't know how to make him wait or give you a second. You bit your lip, looking up to the sky. You closed your eyes as you sighed. You didn'thave many choices in his predicament. "Wait, I.." Before you could finish your sentences, Micah had turned around, pointing straight at you. "Hah, I knew it was something. You've been all silent and moody all day long. So what's the deal?" He walked over to you. He looked you up and down. Smirking as he waited for an answer. You backed up into a tree. Unable to go anywhere else. You raised your hands in front of you. In a swift and surprisingly gentle move, Micah had your arms pinned above your head. You looked at him a bit in shock. Your cheeks grew red, and you already felt embarrassed. He smirked, and his voice was low as he spoke. "Come on now, tell me what's been on your mind, doll. Tell old Micah what's bothering you."

You shut your eyes. His voice actually sounded nice like that. Not snarky or rude, but somehow more seductive? And the way he had grabbed your wrists. You had to squeeze your thighs together now. You felt a weirdly good pulsating sensation as you squeezed shut while holding in your piss. That's something you hadn't felt before. It actually felt a bit good. Micah took note of your body language, thinking you felt hot and bothered. What he didn't know was that you needed to relieve yourself. Badly. You started your sentence. "I..need to." Micah placed a hand on your cheek. His thumb rubbed softly against your lower lip. His gaze was hungry. You'd never seen him like this before. Being so gentle and seductive. It actually made him seem nice for a bit. As you looked at him and got another pulsating sensation. You whimpered. He grinned and slowly slid his hand from your cheek and down your body. Panic took over you. You couldn't hold it much more, and his hand was on its way down. "N-no, don't.. I gotta, I have to.." You struggled to speak with the preasur of needing to pee and the weird arousal from the tension that had risen. He paused and looked at you. He was slightly confused. That's when he connected the dots. You could see the change in his expression. His grin grew as he chuckled. He leaned close to your ear. A gruff whisper. "Mhmm, now I get it. You've gotta go, right? Been holding it aaall day, haven't you? And you didn't dare ask little old me to stop." You opened your eyes. As you softly nodded, you were flooded with embarrassment. How was this going to end.

You whimpered as he slid his hand down to your crotch. Cupping it as he watched you squirm. You were so close to letting go. Almost wetting yourself. You were sure it would start leaking if you didn't get to pee soon. "Let me. Just hold it a little longer, sugar." Micah gently opened your jeans. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back to hold it in a bit longer. He softly pulled your jeans and underwear down and got you to step out of them carefully. Tossing them to the side, he stepped in behind you and put your arms around the back of the tree. He held them with one arm. He leaned his head in close to your neck. You could feel his warm breath on you. You shivered and was hit by a new wave of the pulsating. Micah gently nipped and kissed your shoulder. You could feel drops of pee leaking out as you tried your best to hold it in. He used his foot and nugged your legs apart, spreading them out a bit. "You've known me for a while now, Y/N, I'm a nasty man, you know that. So be a good girl and piss for me." You didn't need a word more. You let go and felt the stream of piss escape you. The sweet feeling of release. You whimpered and almost moaned at the feeling. You rolled your head closer to Micahs. Your heavy breath and small sounds was like music in his ears. He watched as the golden fluid flooded out of you. How it loudly hit the ground.

As it stopped up and you felt the wave of relaxation hit you. Micah cooed in your ear. "Good girl, that wasn't so bad, was it?" You gently shook your head. Admiting that it had felt pretty good. He let go of your hand and pulled you around the tree to face him. He leaned you back against the other side of the tree away from your river of piss. He slid his hand down your belly and down to your crotch. He swiped a finger through your wet folds and found your sensitive nub. You held back a small moan as he started softly rubbing it with his thumb. He smirked and worked a finger inside you. Bending it in a way that would find your spot. As you whimpered, he chuckled. He leaned in and kissed his way from your shoulder to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe before he spoke. "Look at you, such a needy little thing just for me. What do you think the other fellers back at camp whould day if the knew what a whore you are for ol' Micah, hm?" His words sent shivers up your spine and a flush of warmth to your belly. Your cheeks felt like they were burning up. As he pushed another finger in, you stuttered out his name. "M-icah.." It felt so good. Yet it felt so embarrassing that this pig of a man had made you feel so good. He'd never let you forget about this. At this point, you weren't sure you wanted to forget it either. He kept praising you between his nibbles at your neck. He sucked at your sweet spots and left marks. "That's it, come on now." You could feel yourself grow tighter around his fingers. Right before you could feel your release, he pulled away. You let out a sad moan at the sudden emptiness. Micah shamelessly rubbed at his crotch as he let out a low chuckle. He smirked as he looked at you. Oh, how he loved this moment. Making you a mess for him so easily. "You're my little ragdoll now and I ain't lettin you go sweet thing. You belong to me." He opened his pants just enough so his member sprung free. It was already leaking with precum and gently pulsating. He gave it a few slow strokes before he turned you around. He pused a hand on your back so you would lean forward and brace your arms against the tree. He teased your entrance with his tip, letting it soak in your juices. He lined himself up with your entrance. With both hands firmly on your hips he roughly pushed in with a groan. He stopped for a second as he bottomed out, saviouring the feeling of you around him. You cried out a moan weak moan. He had good girth and a fear length to him. Just as roughly as he had pushed in he set a good pace. Pushing in hard. He moved a hand to hold onto your hair. Your head leaned back making moans slip out easier. Micah like to hear all the noises you made. You felt his thrust getting sloppier as he let go of your hear to rub at your clit. As you queezed around him you could hear him grunt more. The pulsating sensation of release shot through you and your legs started shaking. Micha pushed deep and let out a growl. His grip strong enough to make bruises on your hips. You felt him pulsate inside you. He patted your ass as he pulled out and tucked himself away.

You had to lean on the tree so you could regain your balance again. Micah let you get dressed before he helped you up onto Baylock. As he urged Baylock into a trot he came with a comment and laughed. "I might have to ask Dutch to let me drag your sweet ass along more often."

Sit Still: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 6, Dubcon/Frottage Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Slight dubcon, frottage, sex with clothes on, grinding, kissing, neck kissing, marking, low honor Arthur Morgan, dominate Arthur and submissive Reader, sleeping, slight cuddling Summary: With the whole camp noticing Arthur’s darker turn recently, Dutch sent you out to keep an eye on him.

The gang isn’t entirely sure what’s been going on with Arthur. All Miss Grimshaw told was that he’d told Mary-Beth that he’d been killing people without reason. Even Dutch is concerned, shutting himself and Hosea in his tent to talk about their son. You heard John telling Abigail not to let Jack near him for now. Kieran’s been shyer around him. Uncle hasn’t asked him for money. Something is wrong with the Van der Linde work horse, his mind isn’t as it should be.

So being alone with him is a little unnerving.

Dutch warned you explicitly before you left for this overnight job. “Watch him.” He said. “Tell me what you think.”

You glance up at Arthur. His eyes are fixed on the fire as he pokes it with a stick. He seems fine right now and he was pleasant enough on the ride out, telling a few jokes and making idle conversation. Dutch trusted you with this little ruse, a half baked job to observe Arthur’s mental state, because he knows you can handle yourself. You could fight him off at the very least, get to your horse, and you can watch him unlike Micah or Bill.

Still, your heart races.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Arthur mutters, eyes fixing on you as he sits back on his bedroll across the fire. “Somethin’ Dutch said?”

Your breath hitches but you shake it, keeping your cool. “Just cold out here, should’ve worn a better coat.”

Arthur hums, his eyes boring into you so hard you can feel it.

He just seems different, very much not himself. You know Arthur well enough to know he’s not usually the kind of man to feel so off putting. He’s an outlaw, sure, but he’s usually the type you’d feel safe sharing a camp with. Right now you have half a mind to think he might slit your throat in your sleep. But it’s Arthur, he wouldn’t do anything like that. He wouldn’t.

“Cold, huh?”

You meet his eyes for a moment, that same bright color shaded by the dark flames. They look menacing somehow, even though you’ve seen them scrunched with laughter and accompanied by flushed cheeks. You just nod.

“Suppose I am too.” He says without a hint of a shiver. “Maybe we should share, keep each other warm.”

You feel a twinge in your chest. Share? With Arthur? No doubt you’ve thought about it, cuddling up to him in his tent on cold nights at camp. And you especially thought about it when you were up in Colter. But now, with the way Arthur’s been these past few weeks, the thought makes you nervous.

“I’m alright, Arthur.”

“No.” He says gruffly. “I insist.”

You stare for a moment. Insist?

Then Arthur moves, standing and walking off into the dark. You assume he goes to take a piss, not overly concerned about his whereabouts. He’s too far away to see for a while so you give yourself time to think. Arthur Morgan… insisting?

It happens fast, hands shoving your shoulders and weight on top of you before you can do anything. You’re pinned to your bedroll and when you look up, it’s Arthur’s dazzling eyes looking down at you. He’s sitting on your legs, just below your gunbelt, his hands holding your wrists on either side of your head.

You swallow your nerves before you speak. “Arthur?”

He shushes you, soft and smooth, as he moves your wrists together so he can hold them with one hand. You don’t have the present mind to protest anyway. With his newly free hand, he unbuckles your gunbelt and you mindlessly lift your hips to let him pull it off.

“Good boy.” He mutters, his hand settling on your stomach. “Sit still fer me.”

You don’t dare move when he lets your wrists go. Arthur could kill you in a second if he really wanted to. Even if you still had your guns, no one is a faster draw than him. He shifts up your legs a little, leaning forward so his body covers yours. Your mouth goes dry when you feel it, Arthur’s dick pressing into your own. It’s hard, straining against his pants as he begins to grind into you. He hardly bothers to spare you of his weight, leaning hard into you and his arms only serving to sit beside your head as he breathes against your neck. His legs are spread over you, leaving only your own legs as a probable means of escape.

But do you want to?

Arthur’s an attractive man, usually a good one too. The Arthur you know would have asked before pinning you down, he would’ve been more gentle about it. But this… this feels good too. Arthur’s dick rubbing yours through two layers of pants has already gotten you half hard, and when you feel his lips at your neck, you become solid. Arthur groans against your skin, his hips digging against yours further and faster. He’s sloppy, needy, and you wonder why he doesn’t just shed the clothes keeping you apart.

In a way, you’re thankful he doesn’t.

“Ya feel good, boy.” He murmurs, his lips pressing wet, hot kisses along your neck.

“Arthur…”

He shushes you again, moving his head to kiss you properly. He’s warm and he tastes so deeply of whiskey you have to wonder if he’s drunk. The movement of his hips distracts you before you can think much about it. Fast, impossible good ruts that make your clothes rub heavenly against your sensitive dick. And when paired with Arthur’s rough lips on your own and the force of it all, you feel yourself getting close.

Arthur pulls away from the kiss, sitting up slightly as his hands return to hold your wrists. You haven’t moved them, you’ve barely moved at all. Only the slight jut of your hips or the squirming of your legs, nothing Arthur has noticed. He grinds down against you, a low groan coming out of him and you have to hold your own expressions in.

“Knew you’d be good.” He mutters. “Just wait ‘til I do this proper.”

You feel a hitch in your throat, then the waves over take you as Arthur ruts faster. You grind up into him and you can hear him chuckle as he leans down to suck a mark into your neck. Your vision blurs a bit as you come down. There’s a new feeling that accompanies the same heavy weight of Arthur, a wet warmth in your pants. Arthur has drooped into you, his breathing slow and steady and his arms wrapped around you. Timidly, you move your arms around him once you hear the gentle snores.

You have no idea what you’ll tell Dutch now.

Preference

How the gang would react to you gifts Jack a little pony

(part 1 )

[Masterlist]

[RDR Masterlist]

Inspired by this video :)

Gender neutral reader

Intro:

You where in Valentine cause you needed to buy some food for your horse. While you where talking with the seller. A little pony comes to you. You don't think about her at first, but when you where heading to your horse she starts following you. When you look at her you think that little Jack doesn't have a friend of the same age. And that she thinks your their parent and you couldn't leave her like that. So you go to speak with the seller if you could buy her. They say that the little pony didn't have a mother, and you could take her for free. After you take the supplies for your horse and your new tiny friend. You go to the camp with her following you behind.

Their reaction:

Arthur:

When Arthur see the little horse following you he's like "wtf!!". But he thinks it's cute. He'll ask where did you get her and when you say what happened. He'll let out a little giggle. You go to little Jack with her still following behind. When you say to Jack you have a gift for him, he'll be very curious about it and ask what is the gift. When you show him your little friend, he's the most happy kid in the world! You told him to take care of her and he, o'course, nods. Arthur was smiling while watching the scene from far away. That's one of the thinks why he loves about you.

Jonh:

When John sees you new little friend. He's like Arthur. But he didn't say anything. You go to little Jack with her still following behind. When you say to Jack you have a gift for him, he'll be very curious about it and ask what is the gift. When you show him your little friend, he's the most happy kid in the world! You told him to take care of her and he, o'course, nods. John didn't like the idea that much. But when he sees his son playing with you and his new friend. He start to think otherwise.

Dutch:

Dutch ask to himself why that baby horse was following you. Then he goes back to what he was doing. You go to little Jack with her still following behind. When you say to him you have a gift for him, he'll be very curious about it and ask what is the gift. When you show him your little friend, he's the most happy kid in the world! You told him to take care of her and he, o'course, nods. After some time he hears some laughs. So he starts to search where does the laughs came from. When Dutch founds you and little Jack with the little baby horse of before playing together. He smiles and comes back to what he was doing before.

Hosea:

Hosea will first go to you and ask where did you get her. When you say to him what happened he starts to laugh. Then he goes to his tent and comes back after some minutes. He gives you some little apples to give to little Jack for the baby horse. You thank him then you go to little Jack with her still following behind. When you say to Jack you have a gift for him, he'll be very curious about it and ask what is the gift. When you show him your little friend, he's the most happy kid in the world! You told him to take care of her and he, o'course, nods. Hosea was smiling from the distance. After some minutes he goes back to read his journal

[Hope you all liked it :D ]