24 ♢ RDR2 and Arthur Morgan-centered ♢ Fic writer, sometimes draw ♢ Contains 18+ works ♢ Request Closed! ♢
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ARTHUR MORGAN in Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018) ↳ 25/?
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Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018) ↳ 38/?
#strawberry really is one of my favorites towns in game#like I just want to settle here and live a simple peaceful life#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 gifs#rdr2 photography
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👆🏼 thinking exactly the same here
Wipppppppppppp
I adore this specific section of his face. The crows feet, his crooked nose with a scar on the bridge. The way his eyelids fold over toward the center. The bags under his eyes, unsure if due to age or lack of sleep (most likely both). The curve of his brows toward his temples. The faint wrinkles on his forehead when relaxed. Evidence of sunburns on his upper cheeks, nose, and forehead. His emerald green eyes, unwavering and steady. Arthur Morgan, the workhorse. I could go on and on.
#also his chin#and his little cracked tooth#and just the sun spots on his cheeks#and his nose... that damn nose...#also the two big wrinkles that goes from his nose to the corner of his lips...#anyway just daydreaming again#Arthur Morgan#rdr2 art
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How many times are you going to walk away,
Knowing we never could?
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brothers <33
#i love theeeem#these are gorgeous!!!#I always love those kinds of messy pencils style drawings#I am in love with these#rdr2#rdr2 art#Arthur Morgan#John Marston
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handsome cowboah for Morgan Monday
#*sighs*#my baby#giving me hope and happiness on mondays#arthur morgan#rdr2#rdr2 photography#Morgan Monday
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The breakouts
Arthur never had to break himself out of jail. There are a bunch of possible ways to get out of jail, but none includes breaking himself out of jail. Either he just served the time, or someone came for him. He could count on the fact that if he did something too stupid and got a sentence that could possibly hurt him, someone would come for him.
No matter where he was, or when he was there, someone would come for him, whether it was Hosea smooth talking the cops or Dutch and Charles blowing up a wall, someone was there for him, John did not have that.
In the epilouge there is one oppotunity for John to get bailed out otherwise he got to handle it himself.
If you get arrested in Blackwater, Abigail might come and smack the officer over the head, but otherwise John has shown to get creative with breaking out. In Strawberry the lawman falls asleep by the cell and John can snatch the key, in Saint Denis he bribes his way out.
Unlike Arthur, John does not have someone who is there to help him get away should something go wrong, he is pretty much on his own, if he gets in trouble then there isn't someone to save him.
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I love this location so much
RED DEAD REDEMPTION II ᨖ
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As a Frenchie this line always made me laughed 😂
Why does nobody talk about the conversation between the soldiers when Arthur sneaks into camp to steal the sacred items for Rains Fall? 😭😭
"Is France near Canada?"
"No... France is near... France. Well, it's in France."
#rdr2#and am I kicking my feet everytime I hear a npc say a line in french while roaming around St denis?#hell yes I am
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*turns your old men into animals* 🪄
#love them#i love fox hosea sm#panther dutch fits very well too#rdr2 art#hosea matthews#dutch van der linde
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If you liked the first part, this certainly won't disappoint 🤭 I have such a weak spot for a more meanie Arthur but like THE END??? I DIED
I always feel guilty requesting stuff because you deserve so much more but if you write dubcon, I'd love some low honor Arthur dubcon breeding! Either way, your writing is amazing, keep up the good work ❤️
Low honor Arthur is a douchenozzle. And secretly has a breeding kink…? Sure, let's go with that. And maybe this is a little dubcon-ish? Bah, I feel like I am no good at dubcon. Also no good at LH Arthur…
Fortitude II
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous
The sun has barely risen in the east, but in the warmth of the tent, you have been up for what feels like hours. Or it feels like hours that Arthur has been between your legs, lapping at your core, one hand holding your bucking hips down, the other up and squeezing your breast as you nearly cry from the overstimulation.
“A-Arthur, p-lease-” You stutter as his rough tongue licks up the seam of your body for the umpteenth time. He grunts into your cunt; breath hot, and continues his assault. It is only after he has wracked from you another two orgasms that he relents, sitting up on his knees and wiping his damp beard. You can do nothing but stare at the pitch of the tent, utterly spent.
“Y’ make such nice little noises there, darlin’,” He rumbles with a self-satisfied smirk.
Perhaps, as you try to catch your breath, this is his penance for acting the fool yesterday. Perhaps this is him trying to garner your favor.
You hear him spit into his hand and then the telltale sound of wet skin on skin fills the tent as you know he’s stroking his cock. One of his hands grabs the meat of one of your thighs, moving your leg to hook over his. Arthur leans over you and his face finally comes into your line of sight.
You have the wherewithal, at this point, to move your other leg outside of his thigh, spreading yourself open for him and he hums in approval, leaning over you further with a hungry look in those blue eyes.
Arthur’s cock prods at your entrance, and you spread your legs wider to grant him access. He hisses as his hips buck against yours, his cock sluicing through the arousal of multiple orgasms - cursing as he slides in so easily. He’s not a small man by any means - but you are just so goddamn wet and ready for him that before either of you realize it, he’s buried to the hilt.
“Fuck-” he spits out as his fingers splay across your thigh, clenching at your skin and leaving red marks in their wake as he finds a rhythm - hard, sharp, fast - there is no softness about this man, but as you’ve seen him beat other senseless, the restraint he has with you in his bed is probably as close as he can get.
A grunt that echoes through the tent recenters you, “Wanna fill you up-”
“We can’t - y’can’t,” you moan high and flighty as his cockhead keeps hitting that sensitive spot inside you, “You can’t get a child on me.”
“Why - oh goddamnit - why not?”
“Arthur- you’re not seri-”
One of your knees gets heaved over his shoulder, and you’re unable to respond in words, instead a hoarse, needy moan bubbles up from your chest.
“I should take you and find a little house and make you my little wife, come home and fuck y’ stupid every night.” Arthur snarls, heaving his hips into yours with little care for gentleness. A strangled noise escapes your throat as your other thigh is pulled up and propped on his other shoulder. He looms, predatory, before slamming his hips down as he veritably bends you in half.
“I should put a baby in you. Yeah, you’d like that, huh?” He rasps through pounding, punishing thrusts, “Keep you home and chasin’ my children. Belongin’ utterly to me.”
“Ar-Arthur!”
“Yeah, girl, you want it?”
“I want it-!”
“Fuck-”
He throws his head back and moans, loudly, as he pours his hot spend into your cunt. Spurt after vicious spurt, panting hoarsely as he wrings himself dry. You mewl, completely uncaring of volume out here in the woods, as your body seizes in response, making Arthur nearly collapse on top of you.
The gunslinger wheezes as he lets go of your legs, letting them fall to either side of his hips before he rolls off of you, landing on his back next to you in the bedroll. You recover your wits, gasping as the final throes of ecstasy roll through your body.
And then, you realize what he did. You realize what you said.
“Are you goddamn serious?”
Arthur doesn’t look at you, covering his eyes with his forearms as he pants, coming down from his exertion.
You turn over in the bedroll facing away from him, hugging yourself, trying to calm yourself down, and failing miserably as you feel his spend drip between your thighs.
“Y-you can’t say that and not mean it.”
You’re ashamed as tears begin to roll down your face - mad at yourself for being so easily upset - mad at yourself for letting him upset you so - furious at him for using you for the cheap high of coming inside a warm cunt. Mad at yourself for wanting that - wanting him in that way. Wanting something that seems so entirely out of character for him, who on a good day, you would hesitate to call him ‘lover’. Mad at yourself at even thinking of a possibility of a future like that.
His burly arm wraps around you and pulls your entire body back against him, his skin still warm and clammy from exertion.
“Why’re you sayin’ I don’t mean it?” His hand settles over your belly, rubbing gently.
Your fists unclench, “Wh-what?”
Arthur sits up on his elbow, unwinds his arm from your waist. Drawing back the curtain of your hair, he scowls as he sees the wet trail of tears down your cheeks.
“Look’it me, woman.”
You turn, blinking up at him. His thumb, callused and trigger-worn, swipes across your wet cheek.
“D’you want to be with anyone else?”
“N-no.” You sniffle.
“D’you want somethin’ after all the runnin’ around we’re doin’?”
“Yes….”
“Good. It’s settled.” He says, manner-of-factly, as if he didn’t just ask you for a future when your entire relationship has felt like a series of one-night stands.
“And if you just got a child on me?” You confront the issue head-on, and you can still feel the dripping of him from your body.
Arthur smirks, haughtily proud at the idea. Before you can make a retort, he leans in and presses his lips against yours insistently. You are surprised, letting him easily press his tongue into your mouth and against yours. One of his hands weaves into your hair, cupping the back of your head gently - almost lovingly.
At the sign of affection, you tremble in his embrace, moaning into his mouth as you throw your leg over his hip, opening your core to him again, rolling your hips against his pelvis and his member, hardening as it fills with blood once more.
He pulls away and you gasp, breathless, your hand tight on his bicep, holding on for dear life.
Arthur Morgan smirks, in that way that he does before he’s about to rob someone blind.
“Then we best find someone to marry us. Cause I’m gonna keep on fillin’ you until it takes.”
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Scar pg 8
Excuses bexcuses. Though Hosea you killed people too 🤔 Last one for now. Won't update until I finalize some roughs and I've gone back to my regular work from my break. But I have most of it written out.
#every single expressions are so on point#the last one though 😭 babyyyy#his little sad pout#rdr2#arthur morgan#the golden hour rdr#thank you for feeding us Papers
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smth smth redraw with The Gilded Cage fits
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YOU DERSERVE IT GREMLIN
Very happy and relieved to see you doing a bit better!!
Glad your back and hope you're definitely at least a bit better. :]
Thank you I'm a lil better now :D
Honestly, I should THANK ALL OF YOU :')
AND THIS?!
I cannot mention all of you guys but, I would like to take time to appreciate you guys :))) And I mean it thank you so so much to all of ya.
...
Words cannot express how grateful I am.
But I do. I really really do.
#stay strong!!#you'll be aaaalright boah#love u#gremlin-boah#the cutest and funniest art#also tumblr destroyed the quality of my fine gift for u 😠😠
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Very admirative of the way you're able to perfectly write any kinks and any kind of scenarios! Like really, you genuinely make me discover things I never knew I would like. You convey everything masterfully and it's making us readers totally buy it! I think this is one of the most important things as a writer, being able to put the audience into the boots of characters and make us buy a different vision/opinion. Well done, because it totally worked for me!
Anyways, just a fancy way to say I loved your recent fics with the breeding and the piss kink!
Chasing Waterfalls II
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous
CW: watersports, piss kink You horny, horny degenerates you...
He doesn't quite know how he’s gotten here, but damn him if he’s going to complain. Just off the trail north of Cumberland Falls, his and your clothing are discarded in a pile near where the horses are hitched.
His desperately, achingly hard cock in the velvet, wet warmth of your mouth. The prettiest woman in the world, on your knees for him, bare as the day you were born.
You bob on him again, and he grunts in pleasure as you draw back and take him from your mouth. You nuzzle against his thigh, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock for a moment.
“Yer the most perfect thing I’ve ever damn seen.” Arthur muses, petting your hair as a smile crosses his lips.
“Think I’ll be prettier after this.” You give a sly grin up to him as you squeeze his shaft with one hand.
You take his cock and hold it to point toward your chest. Your other hand trails up his thigh to his hip then crosses his lower abdomen. Stopping right above those chestnut curls and pressing against his skin.
Arthur’s eyes widen.
“Are y’ serious?”
With an amused grin, you nod your head, readjusting your fingers around his cock and pressing again against his lower abdomen.
“You... You want…?” He asks, incredulously. There’s no way you could…
His mind goes back to last week when he fucked you against that tree on the side of the road. The desperate, pained whine you made when he pressed on your abdomen, the way your breath hitched, and of course, the hot splash of liquid over his hand when you finally let go… For all the times he had fantasized of it, alone and on the road, having it actually happen set him ablaze inside. The force with which he came, jetting hot spend into your cunt, surprised even him.
“Let go, Arthur,” you sweetly say, holding his cock to your decolletage.
He closes his eyes, biting his lower lip, and a full-body shudder works through the gunslinger’s six-foot frame. He visibly grits his teeth and then the warm liquid splashes hot against your chest. You moan at the feeling, causing Arthur to open his eyes again.
He cannot even try to hide the loud groan that claws up out of his chest. He watches the rivulets of that hot liquid trace down your frame: between your breasts, down your belly before dripping off you to puddle on the ground. You point his cock to the side ever so slightly and the stream of urine lands on the full swell of your breast, tracking down to your nipple and dripping down.
Arthur is damn sure that if he weren’t emptying his bladder he would be coming.
Finally, the stream from his cockhead peters off, and Arthur sucks in a breath. “My god-”
“Ain’t done, c’mon-” You say as you stand up, grabbing his hand and pulling him a few steps away to a soft patch of grass in the river’s bank, “Lay down.”
He fights every instinct he has to throw you to the ground and shove his cock into you and fuck you til you scream. He's so amazingly hard and desperate. This little stunt you’ve pulled has his blood on fire, and it’s all the restraint he has to let you take the lead.
He lays in that soft grass, all six feet of him sprawled out, his cock jutting up proudly from his hips, ready for you. You smile as you step one leg over his hip and let yourself down to your knees, Arthur’s hands clamp to your hips, guiding you down.
You lower yourself slowly onto his cock, his length parting you and burying deep, deep into your body. A whine escapes your mouth as you settle above him, his long, thick cock kissing the deepest parts of you.
You roll your hips slowly, and both you and he are unable to stifle the moans at the motion. Your knees brace yourself on either side of his hips, your hands spread out on his broad chest; his hands on your hips, helping guide your movements as you begin to ride him.
“Oh, Arthur-”
“Tha’s it, that’s it- ngh- ride me, sweetheart-”
After some time, your bucking slows, and Arthur sits up on one elbow, about to whine about how cruel it was for you to stop. But he’s immediately drawn to how your eyes close in concentration for a moment.
It catches him by surprise.
Your hips stutter, you exhale a breath you had been holding, and before he can react, the hot liquid starts to pool on his abdomen, dripping down either side of his waist and puddling on the ground.
You open your eyes, breathing heavily, and look down at his flabbergasted, aroused face as your bladder empties atop him. His eyes dart down to your cunt, to where you’re splayed atop his hips, where his cock spears into your body. Where the slab of muscle of his abdomen glistens with moisture in the sunlight. The sheen of wetness all over him, all over you.
Without warning, his hips buck up and he’s groaning embarrassingly loudly as he spends himself into your cunt, throwing his head back as the pleasure courses through his veins and out his cock.
“Oh… oh my god, you- you-” he sputters as soon as enough blood flow returns to his head from its southward journey.
You giggle. “C’mon, let’s clean off in the river.”
Arthur is mesmerized as you push yourself up off of him, his spend trailing down your thighs as you stand above him. The urine on his abdomen cools as you step away from him, walking toward the river.
After a moment that he can confirm that he can indeed walk, he shoots up and follows you into the cold, fresh waters of the Dakota.
You hiss as you step in, the water making your skin break out in gooseflesh, but you quickly get used to the temperature. You wade out to the center of the river, where the water hits your waist. The cool, clear waters sluice down the curves of your body, cleansing your skin of his pleasure. Your hands rub between your legs, across your chest, and down your abdomen. Washing away evidence of the illicit activities just occurred.
For so long, he’s been embarrassed by these proclivities. But here you are, participating in them and even being aroused while doing so.
He too cups his hands full of river water and splashes it over his body. When sufficiently clean, Arthur grabs you and pulls you to him in an embrace. The cold river water rushes by at your waist as you snuggle into his arms.
“I love you.” He mutters into your hair.
You smile, squeezing your arms tighter around him. You can hear everything in those three words the man gives you. I love you, I love you and thank you, thank you for not running away when I showed you this part of me.
“I love you too.” You whisper in response, laying your head on his chest.
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He's way too young to lie here forever he's way too old to try so whatever come hang let's go out with a bang
#I'm so in love with you art style I swear#arthur morgan#rdr2 art#absolutely stunning!!!#arthur morgan fanart
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Arthur isn't a deer or a wolf. He's a collie. He's born and bred to work, to protect the herd, to keep them in line and keep them out of danger. He's loyal, he's protective, he's brave, sure, but he's also kind and friendly to those he values; at his best, he only hurts when necessary, acting as not only a herding dog but a livestock guardian, wary of strangers but otherwise friendly; at his worst, he sees anyone outside his herd as a gang.
He's the best at his job. Always so attentive and loyal, putting himself in danger to keep his herd safe - and his obedience is strong. He's eager to please the shepherd whose hands have only raised to throw the ball or to pet his head. Arthur is good.
But as he ages, despite his obedience and loyalty and skill, he's slowing down. Falling out of favor. Despite his nature and skillset, despite the unwavering loyalty to the herd and the shepherd, the shepherd will always end up shooting him - perhaps not by his own hands, perhaps someone else will, but he'll always be put down in favor of another collie.
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