24 // Attempting to be an Arthur Morgan blog // working on a few // requests are open // 18+
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Omfg-
Soothe
Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI A companion piece to Ache.
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link
You watch him suck air through his teeth at the first taste of coffee in the morning. His brows furrow under that hat as he nearly chokes the first swallow down, standing there next to the campfire.
Alas, you did not crawl out of bed early enough to save the camp from Pearson’s brewing skills. You had been sneaking out of bed early to beat Pearson to the kettle, and it seems that Arthur had noticed the difference in the quality of coffee, noting how surprised he was at the terrible taste.
Not this morning. This morning you crept from another cot entirely, shrugging your chemise on as you quietly searched for your bloomers in a tent that was not your own. Before you left, you had turned back toward the cot, looking back upon your bedmate fondly, still asleep in the cot, half dressed, snoring peacefully.
It would be at least an hour more before he woke up, still sleeping off the whiskey imbibed.
Lest he finds you staring, you quickly scurry over to the laundry pile, where a basket with dirty shirts overflows, waiting for washing. Before Grimshaw catches you dawdling and tans your hide.
You heave the basket up, propping it on your hip.
You have to stop, suck in a breath.
Oh.
A blooming soreness shoots through the very core of you, burning a path through your hips that was so pleasurable last night. You are certain your cheeks blaze red, a flush creeping down your chest. Regaining your composure, you head toward the lakeside, each step that soreness making itself known.
Through the corner of your eye you see him still at the campfire, trying to drink that shit coffee.
Does he even realize? Does he know? Does he know that he has carved himself a blaze of pleasure within your body?
Does he know that you now feel so empty?
Oh, how you wonder. Oh, how you wish.
You thrust a shirt underwater and start working at a stain, trying to block out the hot whispers and deep groans in your ear when he pushed into you last night. Your cunt clenches at nothing, recalling through your tipsy haze the perfection of him laying you down in his cot. The feeling of him pawing at your bloomers and flipping up your skirts after you had just enough sherry to get over yourself and sit in his lap earlier in the night.
Oh, how you wish for something more. How you long for it.
You decide to go for broke - you need no sherry anymore. Not when you’ve heard the things he whispered to you with each thrust of his cock last night.
He’s staring down at the ground, still holding on to the cup of coffee as you approach.
“Hey.”
Arthur looks generally surprised. A flush painted across the apples of his cheeks, and he looks up at you with those damned blue eyes and suddenly the feared enforcer of the Van der Linde gang is as awkward as a teenaged boy.
“You feelin’ okay?” He asks, as his cheeks continue to blaze red.
Oh, this man. Your heart flutters.
You smile, lean in, and kiss his cheek.
“I’m hopin’ that wasn’t the last night we spend together, Mister Morgan.”
It was better than you saying what was really on the tip of your tongue - of how you were sore from him, but can’t stand the thought of not being in his cot tonight. “Darlin’, let… let me-” he swallows, obvious discomfort across his features, “Let me take you into town. Let me bed you right.”
You smile as you reach toward the coffee cup, trying to contain your excitement.
“Alright, Arthur. Shall we?”
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It’s such a trying time in the world right now.
And the peaceful, little corner of this fandom is so amazing.
I am twenty-four, and this past year is the first time I’ve ever logged onto this website, and when I say it’s the most, peaceful, kind hearted, supportive community I’ve ever come to know.
It is.
I remember when I first started playing RDR2 I would post on the Red Dead subreddit, and a lot of the comments were so disheartening and rude.
But wow.
Tumblr is SUCHHH a change of pace.
So much healthier and happier. Almost a safe place of sorts and it really has sparked my creativity.
Even though I have such a small community on here, I’m am so grateful for y’all.
You guys just get it, when my friends in real life don’t seem to.
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Yes I hate Mary Linton.
(I’m jealous of her)
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Caliber Heart
Pairing: High honor Arthur x female reader one shot
Author's note: Oh what do I have to say about this. To start, this one shot came from me having MAJOR writer's block with my Colter fic. It seems like I had rewrote my Colter fic a thousand times and did not like any of them, really pulling me into a writer's block for the past month and a half. However, as I sat at my macbook staring at the screen in anger at myself this idea popped into my head, and as I was writing it I was kicking my feet and giggling.
Now it might not be that Colter fic I had been teasing, but it is something that I'm really proud of and think the fandom will really enjoy.
Summary: Arthur teaches you to shoot.
Trigger Warning: 18+, graphic sexual content
“Now why I gotta do this anyway?”
“Cause’ my woman is gonna know how to protect herself,” Arthur gruffs, his voice like gravel as he sets up glass bottles in the windows of the second story of Limpany’s burnt saloon.
“Ain’t you spose’ to be the one protectin’ me?” You playfully yell out to him with an evil smirk plastered on your face, dragging your boot in the dirt in front of you out of pure boredom.
The cowboy lets out a small chuckle, jumping back down to the ground level with ease and setting the remaining whiskey bottles on the steps out front. “Now you know I wanna be with you all the time, but I need you to be able to protect yourself when I’m not.”
You bite your lip as the brooding cowboy finally approaches you, his left thumb looped into his gun belt as a cigarette gently hangs out the side of his mouth.
You hated to admit that Arthur was right.
Too long you had been running with Dutch, and too long you had been procrastinating this exact moment. But after years of Arthur chasing your skirt, it seemed as soon as you got in bed with him he was teaching you all sorts of new things.
The sun shines high in the sky as Arthur pulls out the cattleman’s revolver from his gun belt, and teaches you how to load seven shiny revolver bullets into the gun’s worn cylinder, taking the barrel into his hand and placing the grip into your palm. “Now show me how you shoot.” The cowboy commands without any other instruction, his crystal eyes focusing on you as he takes several steps backwards.
You roll your eyes sarcastically at him before he sends you a dissaproving glare.
You let out an annoyed sigh before lifting your dominant hand that held the revolver, aiming down the sight, and placing your right foot parallel to your hand. Mirroring what you had seen the men do countless times before.
You line up your sight with nearest bottle, your pointer finger teasing the trigger as you sat in the same position for several, long moments. “Now go on,” Arthur suggests as you hear him change positions, the dry, coarse dirt of Limpany shifting beneath his boots.
You pull the trigger
You miss by two feet.
You sigh, dropping your arm back down at your hip in dissapointment.
Arthur starts to chuckle, clapping his hands together as if he were mocking you for your failed attempt. “You’re doin’ it all wrong.”
“Hey,” you snap as your head turns behind you where the gunslinger stands. His left hip jutted out, his thumbs resting in the loops of his gun belt with a god awful smirk resting on his face . “I’m just copyin’ what I’ve seen you men do a thousand times!”
The gunslinger rolls his eyes, another gentle laugh escaping his lips. “You’re shootin’ like you think you’re some seasoned gunslinger or somethin’ ,” he jokes, spitting his half smoked cigarette onto the ground in front of him and taking several steps up to you, placing his calloused hand on the arch of your back.
“I’m just doing it how-,” you attempt to remind him, as his other hand grasps your stomach tightly, nearly knocking the breath out of you.
“For starters, you gotta stand up straight, and keep your shoulders parallel with your feet,” he commands, pushing his hands into your torso as if he were attempting to fix your poor posture.
Your spine straightens instantly and you did your best to make your feet parallel with your shoulders. “Now two hands on the gun, and I like to shoot when I exhale,” he commands, letting go of your stomach and taking several steps behind you once again, his eyes carefully watching your every move.
You follow the gunslingers suggestions, aiming the revolver at the same bottle you did before.
You aim.
You pull the trigger.
You miss again, but this time only by a few inches.
“You didn’t exhale,” Arthur calls out.
You exhale.
You aim.
You pull the trigger.
The first of several glass bottles explodes into a million tiny fragments as your head bolts to Arthur for a look of approval.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Now again.”
For the next several hours Arthur has you shooting at glass bottles, and when all the glass bottles had been shattered, he starts having you shoot at the painted letters all around Limpany that had survived the fire’s destruction.
“The second O in Saloon,” he would call as you would turn and fire, shooting at every letter until you had made a clear hole in each one.
After all bottles were shattered, and every letter had several tiny bullet marks in it, you were ready to call it a day. By no means did Arthur turn you into a sharpshooter in just a couple hours, but you were glad you could at least hit a target.
“Come on Arthur, it’s been hours,” you whine as he takes the several empty ammunition boxes out from his satchel and fills them with dirt from beneath his boots, setting them up on the steps of the saloon just as he did with the glass bottles earlier.
“We ain’t done till I say we’re done,” he says, moving back towards you with a mischievous smirk.
You role your eyes at him out of annoyance.
“What? Think you can shoot a couple targets and don’t need more practice?” He adds with a furrowed brow.
“That’s not what I’m sayin-“
“Out there you got bullets flyin' and men yellin'', you gotta learn to keep focus,” he replies grumpily.
“Arthur-“
“Aim,” he commands as he steps closer to you.
You send him a long, strenuous glare before placing both hands on the gun and pointing it at the steps of the saloon.
You exhale.
You shoot.
With a loud pop, the box of dirt erupts into a small cloud of smoke.
You aim again, letting out another breath before you hear Arthur walk up behind you, his hands grabbing your hips as he leans his chin on your shoulder.
“What are you doin'?” You chuckle as his hands move from your hips to the buttons of your blouse.
“Now the most important part of gunslingin’ is to keep concentration no matter the distraction,” he whispers with a devilish tone into your ear.
Your breath hitches for a singular moment before you realize what he meant, his lips finding their way to your ear lobe as his calloused fingers dance over the buttons of your blouse.
One by one he pops open the buttons of your shirt, quickly freeing your breasts from the confines of your blouse. Your nipples instantly peaking at the chill of the New Hanover air but also from your building arousal.
“Arthur, what if someone sees,” you breathe out, barely able to comprehend what was happening as his lips continue to trail down your neck.
“No one ever comes out this way. Now shoot.” He barely commands, his right hand traveling to your left breast. His thumb and forfinger finding their way to your nipple and rolling it back and forth with light, pleasurable pressure.
You moan.
You exhale.
You shoot.
Another box of dirt explodes into a ball of smoke.
“Good girl,” he mumbles as his free hand starts to reach the buckles of your jeans. Quickly unbuttoning your pants and slipping his left hand below your bloomers, easily finding that patch of nerves he knows that you enjoy all too well.
“Arthur-“ you moan is such shock as you feel him grin against your neck.
“Shoot,” he commands once again as his pointer finger reaches deeper into you and starts to draw small circles onto your clit, your knees becoming weaker and weaker from each calculated touch.
You moan
You exhale.
You shoot.
The box pops into another cloud of smoke.
“That’s my girl,” he rumbles as he picks up pace, moving back and forth against your bundle of nerves with such vigour that you were unsure if you could physically stand much longer.
“Again,” he whispers, the prickle of his shadowed beard scratching against your sensitive neck with prowess.
You moan.
You exhale.
You shoot.
You hit the fourth and final box as it explodes into a cloud of smoke.
Within seconds you drop the revolver onto the ground as you finally give into his touch.
“That’s my good girl,” he speaks, circling your clit with such vigour that your knees buckle almost instantly, causing you to lean backwards onto him for full support. Without missing a beat Arthur's right hand catches you and with a shuffle of his feet he walks the two of you over to the side of the saloon and bends you over so you can prop yourself up against the building with your arms.
His left hand still pulsates against you as you can feel your body near your finish. "God Arthur you make me feel so good," you nearly scream as he takes his right knee and spreads your legs farther apart, still leaning over you from behind, his breath hitching in your ear.
"I know your close girl," he mumbles as he continues the steady beat of his fingers against your core.
You were beyond on close.
You were there.
You moan in pleasure, gently jutting your hips against his calloused fingers that were so diligently working you through your release. It felt like forever, but as soon as Arthur was sure your release had been completely worked through he unwraps his hands from infront of you and runs his finger through your soaking cunt, making sure you were ready for him.
The cowboy drops his gunbelt quickly, dropping his work pants to his ankles and fisting his already, blood swollen cock in his hand. "So purdy," he moans as he takes the tip of his member and runs it down your seam.
Your entire body shivers at the meer touch, your hands doing their best to keep you properly bent down for him against the side of the building.
"Tell me you want it," Arthur commands as he still playfully runs his tip against your core again.
"I want it," you moan as your body wettens even more for him, begging him to fully enter you at his pleasure.
"Tell me you need-" he mumbles.
"God Arthur I need you now," you beg as you jut your ass back up at him as if you were some wild animal in heat.
The cowboy grins as he looks down at your wet, pink pussy and slips his entire length into you slowly. When his large length was finally inside of you, he stops and looks down at the combining of your bodies. His thatch of chestnut hair combing against your ass with such prowess that it takes himself several long seconds before he pulls himself out of you, and then in again.
"You take -ah- me -ah- so well," he starts to moan, pushing himself in and out of you with a strong beat.
Arthur continues to push into you, placing his right hand on your hip as his left hand balls up your loose hair into his palm. Pulling your hair tightly into his fist and pulling downwards, forcing your chin to rise in pleasure.
You can feel his hips start to work faster as the clapping of your two bodies merging together seemingly echoes throughout the ghost town.
"Fuck," you curse in pleasure, his hand loosening from your hair and instead finding it's way to your other hip, his fingers digging into you as he roughly pulls your cunt closer to him with every push of his cock.
"Mine," he musters out. "You're -ah- all mine."
Red marks start to appear on your hips as his fingers tighten against your skin. Your knees start to feel that familiar weekness as you recognize your second release starting to pour over.
"I'm gonna-," you yell out.
"Just a little bit longer," he barely is able to mumble.
It was too late, your second release envelopes on Arthur's cock with such vigour that you nearly scream in pleasure.
But as soon as the cowboy felt your cunt pulsating from your second orgasm, he releases his spend into you with several strong thrusts of his hips. His chin jutting upwards as he moans loadly into the pink sky above him, his hands still glued to your hips as his knees shake in pleasure.
After the two of you had been completely worked through, he sits inside you for several seconds as he gathers himself. His breath hitching as he slowly pulls himself out of you, a devilish grin appearing on his worn out face as his surveys his spend dripping down from your cunt and onto your inner thighs. "S'beautiful," he whispers, taking his left hand and palming your ass before you push yourself back up to a standing position and turn around to meet the discheveled cowboy.
"You make a fool out of me," you laugh, pulling up your pants from your ankles quickly as your chest still hangs freely in the cold, New Hanover air.
Arthur grins and shakes his head as he follows suit. "Should've taught you to shoot months ago," he playfully gruffs as he places his gunbelt back onto his hips, his eyes focusing on your chest as you do your best to rebutton your blouse as quickly as possible.
"Shut up, Morgan," you glare at him with a grin plastered on your face, pulling the last button closed, making you atleast presentable to any onlookers who may have rode by.
Arthur raises his hands up to you as if he was surrendering to your tone, "I'm just sayin' if I knew I could-"
You cut him off with a devilish grin, "Maybe the next lesson should be taught by Javier, heard he has the better aim anyway." You snap, knowing that as soon as the words left your mouth you would find yourself running away from the cowboy with a playful smile as you knew he wouldn't take the harmless joke lightly.
"You little hellcat," he snaps back with a playful grin, quickly darting after you as another budding erection started to form beneath his jeans.
#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan fanfiction#arthur morgan smut#red dead smut#arthur morgan#cowboy#smut#arthur morgan x female reader#red dead fanfiction
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oooh baby we gotta put some meat on those bones😮💨
CR to musa_warrior_vp on IG
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Thank you this amazing person for this masterpiece
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All are 10/10 reads if anyone needs any recommendations! Such a talented writer too!
➵NSFW/MDNI➵ On A03 as an anthology titled "Voluptatem"
Multi-Chapter
The Fine Art of Knot Tying In the French Way
One Shots
Cleanliness and Godliness Gone Fishin' Barely Hidden NSFW Alphabet Virtuous Convalescence Regret Me Not In Sickness Painted Ribbons Anything You Can Do Learning the Hard Way Accounting and Other Arts Caught Hush Settlin' Down Under My Blanket Wait... Already Gone
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He is my dream man.
Like sure, I have a sexy, engineer boyfriend at home that is alive and well.
But he is not Arthur Morgan.
ARTHUR MORGAN in Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018) ↳ 34/?
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we can't change what's done, we can only move on.
for @fishoffdude ♡ happy birthday, fish!
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fuck you mean he doesn't look snuggly
colter arthur has a special spot in my heart 😭
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Does anybody else have that phenomenon where nothing you write is good enough? Like I have written my next fic probably nine times over and every time I think it’s done, I reread it and I hate it. And then I get pissed off, and just delete the whole story because I feel like the whole fic is shit and then I have to start over.
I know that nothing will ever be perfect, but then I read some of y’all’s fics and I just wonder how you’re able to write so well.
Like ughhh.
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