#arthur callahan

[slothsluv]

watchful eyes -- arthur morgan

A/N: hellooo, this is a short imagine with mr. morgan and his beautiful eyes!! this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time and told myself i should either post it or it will stay in my drafts forever... but let me know lovelies if you would want a requested fic with this man. please enjoy <3

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ARTHUR MORGAN would stare at you with pure adoration blossoming in his eyes. He couldn’t help it at all. He felt dirty letting his eyes lay on the purity of your skin. Man, he had no idea what had got into him lately, but he didn’t hate it, momentarily.

Whether you looked at him the same way or not, he enjoyed the fact that it was his own little secret in his mind to travel to. He became accustomed to thinking about you, to dreaming about you. You swam effortlessly in his mind; taking up every corner of space that occupied his brain. You were like a willow tree flowing with the wind and he caught onto your branches that blew. He was latched to you the moment he laid his sinful eyes on you that had seen more devilish things you could count.

Every morning, he had a routine set to steal glances at you before he was sent off on jobs that Dutch mentioned which seemed perplexed to him but he did so anyway. He’d brew a cup of coffee and lean against the many chestnut trees that surrounded the camp, awaiting for you to slip out of your tent and begin your morning that was oh so familiar to him. He’d pounce at any opportunity to be near you in hopes of you saying how good of a morning it is to wake up ‘fresh as a daisy’ and happy to live another day. No, he craved to hear your voice echo around his ears to the sockets of his brain to keep enclosed only for him.

Arthur Morgan clears his throat and his lips attach to the cold metal of the mug he gripped in his hand, letting the hot liquid of the morning brewed coffee run the course down his throat and settling into his stomach. A burn encased his mouth from the roof of his mouth to the small nerves of his tongues—he let out a sigh.

A tick of his tongue against his teeth was heard from the hot, black coffee he had made; ��you burn yourself there?” He heard a small laugh form at the end of the sentence that was spoken. He noticed it was you besides him, getting the same coffee he had made from the camp into your own mug you held.

Arthur felt his face flush with red when he realized he was too occupied with the feeling of his coffee to see you escape from your tent and make your way next to him. He cleared his throat and licked the dryness of his lips, looking down and swishing the coffee back and forth in his mug with movements of his hand. He felt his whole body overtake the hotness emitted from the coffee and his mind numb with your presence overtaking his. He couldn’t believe the power you had over him and he hated the vulnerability he showed to himself.

Arthur could only let out a hum in response before he lifted the mug back to his mouth and let the cycle complete of utter chaos that erupted from the touch. Before he knew it, he felt his legs walk away from you and towards his own room that was enclosed to a smaller camp. His mind was still hazy and his nose was filled with your scent. He couldn’t believe how good you smelled despite the hours of unconsciousness you endured. He felt stupid. Out of control, even. What power did you have over him to make an outlaw, feared by many men, nervous to be near you?

But what Arthur didn’t know, he made you crazy as well. You knew he watched you. Studied every movement you made. You thrived off of it. The attention he showed you and the liberation he created to be seen. Every morning, you made sure to fix yourself up before heading out, knowing the man was waiting to lay his eyes on you.

You frowned, watching his back come into your sight as he walked away from you. Why couldn’t he hold a simple conversation with you? You tried and tried every day to get more than two words out of him, but it seemed to be beyond difficult.

[dutchieliciousplans]

ARTHUR YOU CANNOT REST THERE!

I can't take this one anywhere without him pulling off something stupid 🙃😆

[eirys420]

This is a post for the person who blessed us with THOSE photos of Arthur Morgan

On behalf of the entire fandom I want to say my earnest thanks, I hope that both sides of your pillow will always be cold, you will always come across three-star animals and you will never be stuck bc of stable bug in rdo.

God bless you my brother/sister/sibling in Christ.

[hylorien]

Whenever you call for me, I come.

[yodellingcactus]

Which album would you buy?

[dutchieliciousplans]

This just reminded me of a photo of Arthur I tooked 😆 that boah will get himself comfortable literally anywhere and find the most awkward places to take a nap

[angelsknifeprty]

masterlist !! ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

the last of us

ellie williams

♡‧₊˚ streamer!ellie hcs 

abby anderson 

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

red dead redemption

arthur morgan 

♡‧₊˚ a night to remember

sadie adler 

♡‧₊˚ sadie as your girlfriend hcs

charles smith

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

resident evil

lady dimitrescu 

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

leon kennedy

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

ada wong

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

misc. characters

hazel callahan

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

kit tanthalos

♡‧₊˚ nothin’ yet!

[askweisswolf]

I was tagged by @gisellasmoonflower to use this picrew to make some of my OCs, which was actually pretty well timed since I’d just made them in this a little while ago for some server stuff! In order:

Detectives of Wayhaven: Annabelle O’Shea (she/her), Antonio Escuella (he/him), Abigail Milton (she/her), Arthur Callahan (he/him).

Villains of Los Diablos: John Roberts (he/him), Mary Gillis (she/her)

Gonna tag @the-rebel-archivist , @alienasuranas , @girlwondersteph, and @eskcl for this challenge, and of course anyone else is free to try it out if they like!

[farahxkhan]

+ ARTHUR RESTRICTED ACCESS

“Art! Art!” Farah calls to her ex the moment she sees his burly form ambling through the strip club. She waves him over with an all too happy grin and gestures to the strippers sitting with her. “I made some...some new friends!” Never mind that several were topless, she takes his hand and tugs him to sit down beside her, or tries too. He’s like a mountain. A fluffy mountain. She doesn’t even remember calling him. The night’s a blur, she just remembers going out with...oh what was her name. Birdy? Billy? “Bunny!” Farah exclaims excitedly, tapping her head as she recalls her companion from earlier. She must’ve gone off somewhere, though because there’s no sign of the younger woman. But no matter. She reaches for her glass and gestures at the white blonde beside her. “This is Odyssey. Odys– Odessa. Doesn’t she look like...like oh... whats her name? Dragon lady. The Game of Dragons lady.” @sheriff-callahan​

[lost-kingsmen]

Gawain has used a gun only once in his life, when his grandpa Culwch took him game shooting for his 14th birthday. Actually using it on a pheasant was a very traumatic moment for him, and he never went hunting again.

Callahan used hunting rifles in his childhood, as his real hometown was above the arctic circle and knowing how to shoot was as vital for protecting yourself as it was for rounding up dinner. Before his death, he used to visit a local gun range every other weekend with his brother and practice so his accuracy is probably still pretty decent.

Arthur grew up in an open carry state and has been surrounded by guns since his childhood, and he regularly has to use his BB pistol to scare coyotes out of the shop dumpster. His uncle made sure he knew gun safety six ways from Sunday before he ever touched his first rifle, though, so when he starts appearing in Sigil City as 'Squire', his only weapon is whichever Reptilitone (or Guinevere) was free that night.

Bran prefers the larger calibers over the smaller ones. She claims they taste "spicier".

[hihomeghere]

Fakin' it | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track? Warnings/Tags : Enemies to lovers <3, unprotected piv sex, guns, cursing, reader has female gentailia, fingering, one bed, fake marriage

Of course the job that went bad had to be with Arthur. Why Dutch had put you two together was beyond you. Everyone around the gang knew that it was volatile anytime you two were together. But, you were cunning, quick minded in a pinch. Arthur was strong, easily able to take down a man twice his size, not that someone of that caliber came along often. To put it simply, you were the brains, he was the brawn. As much as you hated to admit, you made a good team on jobs. This time however, a simple robbery had turned into dozens of O’driscolls around every corner. You two had barely made it into a hotel unscathed. 

“One room.” Arthur said, setting down some coins on the table top as you watched the door. Your hand resting against your gun in your dress pocket.

“Name?” The man asked with a smile.

“Callahan.” Arthur said looking back at you. “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” He said, turning back to the clerk. You heard footsteps outside of the hotel, you turned quickly grabbing Arthur’s arm.

“Sweetheart.” You cooed, internally cringing as you called him by that name. You looked at him with wide eyes, “Come on.” You said with a nervous smile.

“We’re newlyweds, a bit excited if you can’t tell.” He chuckled, turning back to the clerk, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Of course.” The clerk said with a knowing smile, you wanted to barf as Arthur squeezed your waist. “Up the stairs to the left.” He said, handing Arthur a key.

“Much appreciated.” Arthur said his hand on the small of your back as you two climbed the stairs. As soon as you turned the corner you nearly ran to the door, Arthur slid the key in the lock and turned it, ushering you inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he was locking it just as fast. 

Once you got in the room you moved away from Arthur’s side, letting out a sigh as you looked around the room. One bed, of course, you two were acting as a couple.

“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look at Arthur. 

“Less eyes on us if we’re a couple, not cause I wanna play house with you.” He said with a grunt, barely raising his head to look at you. He walked over to the bed, moving to take his boots off.

“Less eyes.” You scoffed, looking around the room, walking over to the window. You pulled the blinds back, peeking out to the streets below. 

“The hell you think you're doing?” Arthur hissed, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Looking.” You said glaring up at him. “Is that a crime?”

“Do you want to give away our position?” He growled, his eyes dark.

“I think it’s pretty damn clear we’re in one of these shops, now we have to wait it out until they’re gone.” You said pulling away your arm from his grasp. He let out a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he looked away from you.

“How many are out there?” He asked, holding his hat as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, maybe a dozen?” You said crossing your arms.

“Dutch said to keep a low profile,” He muttered to himself, “We can’t go out there guns blazing.” He said, setting his hat down on the bedside table. 

“That’s obvious.” You said, shaking your head. He scoffed, looking up at you.

“Are you trying to piss me off, or is that just one of your special talents?” Arthur said glaring at you.

“Oh I have lots of talents.” You say, stepping closer a scowl on your face. 

“If only one of them was keeping your mouth shut.” He growled. 

“God, what is your problem?” You huff looking away from him.

“My problem?” He scoffs getting up from the bed. “You’re my problem." He said, his chest almost touching yours as you looked up at him.

“Feelings mutual.” You huff, glaring up at him. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as you walked away from him. 

“We’re gonna have to wait it out.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The hell are we gonna do?” You asked throwing your hands up. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take advantage of this bed.” He said laying back down on the bed, placing his hat over his face. You bit your cheek looking at him as he crossed his legs. He did have a point, the bed looked a whole lot softer than your cot back at camp. You mulled it over for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You unlaced your boots, laying back on the bed. Your eyes quickly drew heavy, the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off. 

The sun was setting when you woke up, the light slowly disappearing behind the horizon. The room was quiet except for Arthur’s breathing. You sat up in bed, looking over at him. His hat had fallen off his face when he rolled over sometime during his sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, it was like seeing a completely different side of him. It’s at this moment you really appreciate how beautiful Arthur truly is. The bridge of his nose is high, broken one too many times. His plump lips parted slightly, like two petals. His sandy brown hair falling over his forehead. 

You wanted to reach out and move it out of his face, but thought better of it. You didn’t want to disturb him and it wasn’t often that you saw him without a furrowed brow. 

Just as you were laying back down you heard heavy footsteps up the stairs. By your guess, four, maybe five men. You sit up quietly, feeling your heart pound against your rib cage. Arthur sprang up in bed as soon as they kicked open the first door. They must have turned right when they went up the stairs. The yell of shock sounded farther down the hall. He turned to you, his eyes wide. He reached for his gun belt on the floor but you stopped him. Your brain was running through all the situations. Four or five men, sure you and Arthur could take them, but that’s not exactly a low profile. 

Against your better judgment you picked the solution with the least amount of bloodshed. You swung your leg over Arthur’s waist.

“The hell are you doing-“ Arthur hissed before you covered his mouth with your hand. Your fingers started working on the buttons of your blouse as you rolled your hips forward. Arthur looked up at you with a wide eyed expression, his bright eyes frantically moving between his gun belt on the floor and the door. His stubble lightly scratched your palm as you held your hand over his mouth, his plump lips almost kissing your palm.

You forced a high pitched moan as you moved your hips faster on the bed, the bedframe hitting the wall. Creating the illusion you two were having sex.

The gears slowly started to turn in Arthur’s mind, his hands gripping your hips as he propelled you faster. The bedframe was now rocking against the wall, as you pulled your arms out of your blouse, leaving your chest bare. Your nipples hardened from the cold air as goosebumps sprung up on your skin. Arthur’s eyes were closed as he turned his head, forcing a low groan. Although you knew his groans were fake, the way his body reacted to your touch was more than real. You kept up with your moans, trying to put on a good enough show.

The door was soon forced open, as two O’Driscolls entered  the room with their guns raised. You scream, Arthur is quick to pull your chest down to his. You were pressed tight against him, his warm hands keeping you flush against him, all of him. His work shirt rubs against your nipples in such a fucking delicious way, it doesn’t help tbe adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can’t see anything, your head buried into Arthur’s neck, his stubble now rubbing against your cheek.

“Get the hell out of here!” Arthur yells, hidden by your upper half.

One of them clears their throat before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. You hold your breath waiting for their footsteps to retreat down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief as they meet back up with the other men, walking down the stairs.

Hesitantly Arthur moves his hands off your back, you sit up covering your breasts with your arms. Arthur, however, was staring up towards the ceiling. His jaw clenched as he avoided looking at you.

You moved off of his waist, grabbing your blouse before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You buttoned it up, swallowing thickly as Arthur cleared his throat. 

“Now uh-“ Arthur said letting out a sigh, “I want you to know that I didn’t see nothin’.” The bed whines slightly as he stands up. 

“I know you felt something.” You said, shaking your head as you blush from head to toe. 

“Now-“ Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair as you turned to face him, his eyes flicking around the room before settling at your feet as he held up his hand. “We can just pretend this never happened, it was a matter of life and death.”

“I understand that.” You looked at him, fully looked at him. His gaze was low, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks flushed. God, he looks wrecked.

Your eyes trailed over his body as he stood there, his hand on his hip as he popped his knee out. Your eyes moved down further, almost popping out of your head as you see how painfully hard he is pressed against his pants. 

“Are you-“ The words fall out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.

“Jesus.” Arthur sighed looking down, his hand rubbing his eyebrows.

“You are.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth as your eyes trailed up and down his body. You felt heat begin to spread between your thighs as he met your eyes. Your heart is still pounding against your rib cage from the encounter with the O’Driscolls. 

“I’m-“ He started throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry, alright but you can’t expect me- I’m only a man.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Nothing to be ashamed-“ He cut you off, shaking his head, “There is plenty to be ashamed of, I shouldn’t be getting so… so worked up over you.” He said motioning to you. You couldn’t help that you were also getting worked up, you subtly rubbed your thighs together. Trying to get any friction where you needed it most. Heat bloomed in your stomach as the tension in the room only got worse. He furrowed his brows, studying you.

“Wait,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “You feel it too.” He said, crossing his arms.

You scoffed, looking off to the side. “You wish.” You said, hating the slight tremor in your voice. Arthur strode across the room, stopping in front of you. He reached towards you, tilting your chin so you would have to look at him. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said softly, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you flush against him. You stayed silent, looking up into his blue eyes. Slowly a smirk worked its way onto his face, “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled, cupping your cheek. He leaned forward brushing his nose against yours. Giving you the option to pull away if you wanted, his eyes softening as he looked into yours. You took the plunge, capturing his lips against your own as you threaded your fingers through his hair.

A groan rumbled through his chest as his hand tightened around your waist. You felt dizzy as his lips moved against yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth allowing his access as he pressed into you deeper. He rubbed himself against you, his hips pressed against your lower belly. 

You pulled away, breathing hard as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his mouth parted slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You unbuttoned your blouse for the second time, just as feverishly as the first time, but now for a completely different reason. Arthur followed your lead, pushing his own suspenders down, his skillful fingers unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes returned to your body as he ripped his shirt off of his shoulders, settling onto your breasts. He stared down at you, an almost predatory expression on his face. He closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other kneaded your breast. You let out a soft gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as he ran his thumb over your perk nipple. 

“Arthur.” He stared down at you, his eyes darkening as he watched you shiver against him. He flipped you around, his hand pressing you down onto the bed. His other hand flipped your skirts up, before pulling down your underclothes. He let out a soft groan as his eyes connected with your almost dripping pussy.

“This all for me?” He cooed, swiping his finger through your folds. You gasped, nodding as your hands gripped the quilt. 

“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes all for you.”

“Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he sunk a finger into your heat. You gasped as he slowly started pumping his finger inside of you. He leaned over you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Yeah you like that don’t you?” He said nibbling on your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger, scissoring them inside your walls.

“Fuck Arthur.” You melwed, pressing your forehead against the slightly scratchy quilt underneath you. “I need you.” You huffed, your walls clenching around his fingers.

“I’m gettin’ there.” He chuckled, pulling his finger out of you, you sighed at the loss. You could hear the rustling of clothing behind you, the distinctive metal on metal as you pulled off his belt. His warm calloused hands ran up your backside, gently spreading you before the head of his cock met your entrance. 

Jesus Christ he was big. 

He spit into his palm, pulling away as he spread his spit over the head of his cock. 

“What the hell is taking so long?” You asked impatiently, turning your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, a wicked grin on his face as he forcefully shoved his cock through your folds. It was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you were propelled forward onto the bed. His hands pulled your hips back and speared you onto his dick. 

“Arthur!” You yelped, your fingers gripping the quilt as he thrust his pelvis flush to yours. 

“Christ woman.” He groaned, laying his forehead against your bare back. You moan as he pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you. “You sound even better when you ain’t faking it.” You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest more than you can hear it as he speaks. 

“Arthur, Jesus." You pant, almost drooling over the way his cock hits that spot inside you over and over again. 

“Mmm.” He moans, tight lipped as he tilts his head back. You push back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts “Yeah, atta girl.” His praise only spurred you on, your thighs shaking as you pushed your ass against his pelvis. “You close?” He whispered, his warm hand moving down your thigh between your legs. His thumb circling your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You were grateful your upper half was supported by the plush bed as your legs gave out under you. A high pitched moan worked its way out of your chest as you all but collapsed on the bed. Your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock. 

“Shit.” He panted his breath fanning on your back as his forearms caged you in, his hips stuttering as he released his seed inside you. He groaned, resting his forehead against your back as he collapsed on you. His sweaty chest sticking against your back. He pulled out of you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He whispered. 

“S’okay.” You said breathing hard, his cum seeping down your thighs. He kissed down your spine, his hand lovingly squeezing your hips. 

He grabbed a towel from the dresser, cleaning your thighs off. 

“Who would have thought you’d known about aftercare.” You chuckle softly, your heart rate slowly coming back to normal.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me sweetheart.” He huffs, a small smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. He reached down, pulling your bloomers back up over your hips. 

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, grabbing your blouse as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan.” He smirked walking towards you, buttoning his shirt as he stood in front of you. You rolled your eyes, buttoning your blouse. He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He said, his hand trailing down your jaw. 

“Alright, fine. Mr. Callahan.” You huffed, a blush covering your cheeks as you rested your hands against his broad chest. 

“Next time,” He tightened his grip on your hips, his lips against your ear, “You’re riding me.”

[brothermoth]

The fact that John signed his bank papers with his actual fucking name is so funny to me. Sweetie, literally just change your last name. Do you know how many fucking Johns there are??? As far as 1907 is concerned you could look him in the eye and tell the man your name was Hodge Glongler and there would be absolutely no way to verify this. Hell, they'd believe you if you said it with enough conviction.

Dutch has like twelve people unquestioningly believe his name is HOAGIE MACINTOSH. He just says it on the spot and not a soul questions it. Arthur just changes his last name but he at least like ...sticks to it. He'd had zero trouble just fully living by a different name for years. His grandkids would've been like 'what do you MEAN our last name isn't actually Callahan??? He just fucking made it up????

[dutchieliciousplans]

Such a great view of Dutch here 🥵🔥

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

Arthur Morgan x f!reader, wc: 2k, 18+

Summary: You and Arthur sneak away from camp to the nearest hotel in the city for both of your needs.

warnings: Porn without plot. Face sitting / riding, sub!Arthur at some points, Arthur jerks off while you sit on his face. Chapter 4!Arthur Morgan, hotel room fuckin’, ( Anyway, love a man who yearns for real )

Author’s note: very very short fic while I work on something that isn’t Arthur!! oml I’m sorry but I’ll forever be obsessed with this man. Also why is there no sub!Arthur fics on here y’all please work on that.

Getting away from camp seemed to be a challenge for you and Arthur, both of you Dutch’s own personal prized ponies. A bounty hunt was a good excuse for you and Morgan to go off alone though the two of you have already used the excuse a couple times before. There was no errands need to be ran, Dutch was still conjuring up his next job for you two, and unfortunately you couldn’t so simply say that you and Arthur were going to fuck. It was tasteless not only, but it was also smart for the two of you to keep your relations a secret.

Waiting for the hand of Arthur’s pocket watch was hell as you sat in his bedroom in the old plantation home, waiting with your nerves high for a good time to leave camp. One in the morning seemed far too early, by two everyone would be drunk…er than they already were, by three everyone would be uncaring to any noise surrounding them. The sound of you and Arthur’s heavy steps against the muddy ground or the sounds of your horses trotting away from the camp.

Once the right time came you and Arthur snuck out. Riding hard to the city, streetlights making the wet roads shine to lead a path to the hotel.

His warm hand held yours as you two checked in, his voice so confident now every time he’d tell the clerk a simple “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” That fake last name he had been using for months now. The clerk knew who you two were, frequent visitors of the hotel of course.

This was turning into a common occurrence.

His hand moved to your lower back to guide you up the stairs of the hotel, his spurs jingling with every step he took. Now to the hallway, to unlocking your door with the keys.

Arthur was a man who’d strain himself every day to be the man in charge, using his hands to choke and beat, to steal and rob. Even now his knuckles were bruised with evidence of that fact. It’d make sense for a man like him to want– to crave to not be the boss some of the time, this seeped into his sex life with you.

Falling to his knees in front of you, his forehead pressed against your knee before he craned his head back at the feeling of your fingers running through his sandy waves. The man was mush for you, his legs buckled as he kneeled against the hardwood floor. His lips trailed to press firm kisses up your thigh, spreading your legs apart. His Adam’s apple bobbing with each hard, dry swallow of all the salvia building in his throat.

His body was burning up. Somehow eating you out always brought him more pleasure than you using your mouth on him. Though, you were real fuckin’ good at that. It was better to give than to receive.

“Princess.”

His voice sounded like a strangled whine as his palms soothed up your thighs. Those pretty eyes of his would stare up at you– his pupils so blown the blue of his irises could barely be seen especially in the low light of the oil lamp casted upon the room.

“Don’t go beggin’ now.”

You’d look down at him, your fingers raking along his scalp. The feeling of his almost impossibly soft lips trailing up and up underneath your skirt as he slowly pushed it up to your hips tightened the knot in your belly even more so than it already was. Needing the relief and release you’d only find through him.

His wicked tongue.

His touch was heavy handed down your legs, grabbing onto your ankles to gently guide your legs onto his shoulders, the mass and muscle providing your own personal rests.

He dipped one of his fingers underneath the white lace of your panties, running it down your slick slit, the act not only claiming a gasp from your lips but one from his own, his head dropping to the side of your thigh as he began rubbing your clit with the pad of his index.

“S’fuckin’– Soaked. M’don’t deserve this.”

The man was desperate, he couldn’t help the need in his voice.

It was slow, so achingly slow. You needed him on that bed with you. His poor knees didn’t need to be suffering against the uncomfortable hard floor for much longer anyway. You and Arthur had gotten to the point of being able to go unspoken, yet you had grown so fond of the speaking.

“Arthur,” You’d begin, your fingers curling in his locks tight as you pulled his head up and back, his eyes glossed over– he was practically salivating. “Get up here.”

You’d say you were just as needy as him but the way he looked at you told a different story, the man was desperate for it, so quick to act on your command he’d toss your legs off his shoulders, his hands grasping at your hips to lay you on the bed just for a moment, dragging your milk white stockings down your legs and off alongside your boots. A shallow breath left the back of his throat while he slid off your panties. Soaked. Now discarded to the floor.

He was entirely weak for you. He quickly got onto the bed, not bothering taking his clothes off– no need for that, he was here to please you. His spurs dug into the mattress as he laid on his back, his mind flooded with the thoughts of what he wanted, what he could do to please you.

He wanted to be at your mercy.

You would try to get the buckle of your belt unclasped, desperately trying to get your skirt off before you felt the touch of Arthur’s hand on your arm.

“No– no need.” He’d grit. “Come up ‘ere.”

Assuming that he meant his lap you’d crawl your way onto him, your skirt flowing over his thighs as you avoided sitting right on his gun belt he had kept on. His cock would twitch against your thigh, his head leaking an embarrassing amount of pre-cum into his pants, a wet spot so-barely noticeable against the front of his pants.

You felt his hands move up your thighs, his fingers massaging into the flesh. It wasn’t long before he tugged you up, your knees bent on either side of his head as you were above him.

“Oh fuck.” The words came out as a groan, so infatuated by the sight, the smell. It was clear what he wanted when his hands would try to get your hips down, the man was silently begging you to sit.

“Arthur, I don’t know if I–”

“No– no, please. Please.”

His begs took you aback a step, his words were so fucking breathless, his head dropping back against the pillow. “Please” Another plead from the back of his throat. It was quite impossible to resist. You allowed him to tug your hips down, his nose pressed against your clit.

With the first lick from his tongue your hands instinctively went to his hair. Tugging tightly before letting him seep fully under your skirt. Worshipping your cunt with every long lick from his tongue, his lips kissing your pussy over and over again. He’d be praising you, thanking you for giving him privilege to please you, every moan that came from him muffled into your flower. His tongue delving into your hole.

“Fuck!” You’d cry, fingers pulling so tightly on his waves as your cunt contracts around his tongue. You weren’t the only one in need of touch, so desperate your whole body was in tremors: So was Arthur.

His massive hand held tight on your waist, squeezing and groping your skin. Now his freehand was moving slowly down his own body, his chest rapidly rising then falling again, his middle inflating before going back to normal once again with every deep breath. Your eyes were shut tight, the moans falling from your slacked mouth were irreligious. Once his hand moved to his jeans he blindly unclasped his belt, tugging it off as his hips bucked up. Frantically, so fucking frantically he unbuttoned his pants, the material rubbing against his swollen dick was torturess in the sense, his toes curled in his leather boots once his cock sprung free, slapping up against his stomach.

He was helpless.

He wrapped his massive hand around the girth of his cock, his face stuffed between your thighs. Burying his face into your swollen folds to muffle his own needy whines, absolutely ungodly groans coming out of his employed mouth.

His hand slid up and down the length, squeezing the thickness of it, pre-cum dribbling into his fist. Your hand braced behind your back on his chest as the other remained tangled in his brunette hair. The feeling of his frantic breaths, his heart hammering against his ribs, you’d lift your hips a bit trying to provide some air for the man beneath you– his hand immediately forcing you back down.

“Arthur! M’so fucking close–”

“Mhm.”

His hum vibrated against your pussy as you rode his mouth, he was desperate, praying to taste your sweet release. His hips violently bucking into his own fist as your sopping hole clamped around his tongue. The twisting in your tummy told you that your orgasm was around the corner, your body aching for the climax

Arthur’s as well.

The man had a gift of eating pussy, he could be suffocating in the wetness, your slick pink folds pressed against his face, he’d pass out before he tapped out. He was only a man.

The sloppy sounds of Morgan’s mouth lapping at your slickness was the last thing you heard before your own loud noise– your jaw slacking as you let out a ripping moan as the knot in your pelvis untied. Riding out your orgasm on his face.

His balls tightened up as his own orgasm hit him, his load spurting over his fist as his legs kicked out against the bed. You hadn’t even notice your poor man had been jerking his own cock til’ the moment in play, your legs shook as you got off his face, dropping down on the bed next to him, his face colored a hot red, your juices dripping down his stubble and mustache.

Once the breath stolen from him was back in his lungs he was quick to act, wrapping his arms around you to pull you onto him again, your body laying on his, you felt fucking tiny against his muscles, the mass of his body, how he could be so insanely muscular –though his body was so comfortable.

“Oh, sweet girl.”

His head craned back against his pillow, the sound of your pants harmonizing together before placing a kiss against your collar, both of you uncomfortably clothed. He was promised to serve you.

“May I?” His fingers were fiddling with the buttons of your blouse.

“No need to ask.”

He slowly pulled apart your shirt, dipping his face down to bury into the valley between your tits, the man was in constant need of your touch. His hips rocking against the bed, his body throbbing.

“More?” You’d look down at him, your fingers massaging against his scalp gaining a quiet whimper from his plump, wet lips.

“M’Just tell me I can have you… I need you– So Bad…”

His words had a habit of slurring together, laying boneless against your own body. His hand running up to squeeze your breast in a firm grip. His fingertips kneading into the tender mound.

“As long as I’m the one on top.”

You’d mutter, though that went without saying. His cheeks burned hot as his eyes peered to look into your own, his dilated pupils told you enough.

“C’mon then, sunshine.”

He placed a firm kiss against the top of your breast. Allowing you to straighten your back with his hand on your lower.

For the rest of the night he’d be worshipping you like a goddess. You were his religion.

[millieisawriter]

Workin' girl

arthur morgan x reader

summary: the one where arthur pulls a john — falling in love with a working girl. it was never supposed to happen, yet it did, and now arthur is left with two choices. either he, again, walks away from a woman that loves him, or tries to fight for her.

wc: 2k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

a/n: i see this happening in blackwater in case i decide to write a 2nd part, but when i started writing i imagined saint denis, didn't see any town/city names mentioned as i was proof-reading, lmk if you see something i missed <3

Life has never treated you kindly so eventually, as soon as you could leave your family home, you turned to the oldest profession in the world. Even if that kind of life was better, it still wasn't ideal, but it was the best you could do. Eventually, you started to like it because even with its issues and dark sides it wasn't that terrible. Some would even dare saying it was 'easy money', which you actually knew wasn't true.

Luckily for you, you ended up in one of the more expensive brothels. Maybe it was the 'splendor' of the place, the luxurious interior, that made you feel somewhat safe. Safer than you would feel in some cheap saloon where the patrons consisted of drifters with a questionable past.

You had your regular patrons, ones that you got along with well — one of the reasons why they were your regulars. These were the men that could stay a bit longer after the service itself was done without making it awkward. Ones that you could have a conversation with, ones that saw you as another human being, not just an item to relieve their frustration.

It was a normal evening, the building was neither empty nor full. You didn't have that much on your hands, you and a fellow working girl were entertaining a group of men. They sat by a table, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other, and two of these men had a companion in their lap — you and your friend. Ending the evening in the bedroom wasn't certain, for now you were just trying to make them spend as much money as possible on the drinks.

Then, Arthur walked in. One of your regulars, one you were particularly fond of. The chemistry between the two of you was so strong sometimes you wanted to tell him he didn't have to pay.

His eyes immediately found you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous seeing you in the man's lap. But you, as if on command, turned to look at Arthur and as you noticed your favorite patron, you excused yourself from the table.

"Mister Callahan," you beamed, approaching the man, "so good to see you again."

He tipped his hat to you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Evenin' darlin', thought I'd stop by again. You been keepin' busy?"

The way he always called you darling, every time, made you feel so warm and bubbly. Of course, he wasn't the first man to do that, but when it came from him, it felt almost sincere.

"Busy enough," you replied, glancing over your shoulder at the table of men you just left, "but I'll always make time for you, mister."

"Well, reckon I'll take you up on that. How bout we find a quiet spot?"

"Your wish is my command." Giggling, you took Arthur by the hand to lead him upstairs where your room was. Even if he already knew the way well enough.

Your room was just like any other room in that brothel — furnished with the most luxurious-looking furniture, tastefully decorated with expensive ornaments, every little detail taken care of.

As the door to your room clicked shut behind you, the world outside seemed to fade miles away. In that moment right there it were just the two of you, bathed in the dim light by the fireplace's glow.

Arthur's hat found its usual place on the small table by the door and he turned to face you, "I can never stay away for too long." Shortly, his hands landed on your waist, resting on the corset of your dress.

"Then maybe you should visit more often..." You suggested, your own hands finding their way to the man's shoulders.

"I'm afraid it ain't a good idea, darlin'. I always look forward to seein' you. But sayin' goodbye..."

"I get what you mean," you chuckled, "so what's it gonna be today? Just the regular service, or you want something extra? It'll be on the house."

Every time Arthur visited you, it was both blissfull and painful for him. You were so good at what you were doing it felt like a religious experience, but the attachment he held for you left a hole in his heart each time he had to say goodbye.

He had always wished he could just ask you to leave this life, and join the gang, but which woman would agree for this? Your current life, your current job, as oppressing as it was, couldn't be worse than living on the run. In Arthur's eyes at least.

In the brothel you had your own room, a wardrobe with many dresses. You had a somehow stable income, it didn't seem as if money were any issue to you. All this, compared to what you could have in the camp, was much worse. And you didn't even know his real last name, there was no reason for you to leave this life you had for a criminal.

Why did Arthur even fall for a working girl? The exact same thing happened to John, which Arthur would often make fun of him for. Maybe life just decided to pull a joke on Arthur now. But he just couldn't control himself, from the first time he saw you, you were different. With other women it didn't take long to notice they're just playing a role, but you... from the first time you even smiled at Arthur, he was drawn to how genuine it looked. And now, you had become not just a pretty face to entertain him, but someone he felt at ease with.

This time, as many times before, Arthur didn't hurry to get dressed and leave the room, return back to camp after getting what he wanted. Instead, he stayed under the covers in your bed, smoking a cigarette as you kept going on about something that happened a few days ago.

He didn't mind, he could let you yap his ears off, your voice was such a calming sound. It was almost hard to believe you weren't just a hallucination he made up. How could such an ethereal being just lay there, next to him, head propped on your palm as you lay on your stomach, talking about whatever nonsense? How could this happen to a man like Arthur Morgan?

"...so then," you paused to take the cigarette from Arthur, take one puff and hand it right back, "you'd think a man like him would have some sense, right? Well, no, he was so damn thick in the head, she just told the guard to throw him out!"

Arthur chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Bet he didn't see that comin'. I'm glad I ain't made it onto your list of thick-headed fools yet."

"Yet!" You playfully reminded him. "You seem to have more sense than others, although I can't say I'm some weak little girl. I don't even need a guard, but the madam insists it's for safety."

A thought lingered in the back of Arthur's mind. It was weird, in a sense, to know there's a guard right outside your door whenever you had a man up there. Even right then.

"I don't doubt you could handle yourself, darlin'," Arthur smirked, taking one last drag from his cigarette, "but it don't hurt havin' someone lookin' out for you."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Guess you're right, mister."

Arthur stubbed out the ciragette into the ashtray that stood on the bedside table, knowing what it meant. His time was up, he extended the time of his visit as long as he could. Now that his usual cigarette was finished, it was the time for him to go.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. You watched as he reached for his clothes that had been thrown onto the floor, and for the first time a single tear started to burn the corner of your eye.

With his jeans already on, and his shirt for now unbuttoned, he reached to the pocket, retrieving the usual payment. You wiped the tear away as it escaped your eye. It was always the same routine, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him go.

"Here it is." He said almost robotically, placing the money next to the ashtray, throwing in a little tip.

You looked at the money with sadness in your gaze, then your eyes shifted to look at the man. "You know, you shouldn't have to pay, because you don't make it feel like work."

There they were, the words Arthur was so afraid to hear. Him having a more romantic kind of attachment to you was one thing. However, knowing that you reciprocated the feeling, made it more difficult.

"Good," he nodded, "cause you don't make me feel like the bastard I am," as he buttoned up his shirt.

You sat up on the bed, pulling the sheets harder around you, since you were still naked. "Arthur..." You sighed, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat.

The fact that for the first time you had used his actual name instead of calling him mister as always, made it only more difficult.

"No, darlin', don't."

"You know you don't have to leave, right?"

Oh, he had to leave. If he overstayed his welcome too much, the guard at your door would become highly suspicious. And that would only cause issues for you.

"I have to, don't wanna make it harder." Arthur replied.

"Harder for who? I know a man's nature well enough, and I can tell there's something more in the— the way you fuck me, Arthur."

He thought maybe playing dumb would help him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were to ask me to... to abandon this life for you... I would."

Arthur gulped. It was just what he wished for, but what he couldn't allow to happen. "I've got nothin' to give you. I live on the run, it ain't somethin' you wanna be a part of, trust me."

"You think I'd rather keep fucking strangers to survive, than travel the world with a man I lo—"

"You don't." Arthur interrupted you. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout." Love was a word of huge weight, there was no way it was what you felt for him.

You insisted. "I know what I feel, and I know what you feel, I see it in your eyes, I feel it when you're in my bed, Arthur. I wanna leave this life for you."

"It ain't gonna be no escape, though, just another kind of trap. You deserve better than fuckin' strangers to get by, but you also deserve better than runnin' and not knowin' which day will be your last."

"I don't want better!" At that point you didn't care if the guard outside will hear. "I want you, Arthur!"

"I want you too, darlin'," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly, "but... you're safer here. I can't sentence you to a life of eternal wanderin'."

His words had a final tone, but as well as you could read his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying what he had just said. You could have had a roof over your head, and locks in your door, but it wasn't safety. It was survival.

You stepped closer, reaching out to grab Arthur's hand. You knew he didn't want to leave, you were sure he wants you just like you wanted him. "Arthur..."

His heart ached when he saw the way your beautiful eyes looked at him, but still he decided to kiss you. It only made it worse, making another cut in Arthur's already damaged heart.

"I gotta go." He stated, freeing his hand from yours.

"No." You refused as if you had any say in that matter. You could demand he takes you with him now, wherever he's headed, but what would it do?

"I can't make promises," he continued, putting his boots and jacket on, then his hat, "but I'll figure somethin' out."

You stayed silent, watching him leave the room, not knowing if he's going to keep his word. All you had now was the money, that you didn't even want from him, and the promise that could have been empty.

[yodellingcactus]

New Rdr2 Fic Idea Staring Arthur obvi my bb daddy. Anyways The van der linde gang isn’t a gang they’re a traveling band Dutch, Arthur, John maybe Hosea? Are the main guys everyone else either plays an instrument or is a crew member, driver, cook, groupies whatever you name it! Can be based in 1899 Or modern times either way would be interesting! Arthur pairing with whoever but if someone can make it Joel(tlou)/Arthur id love them for ever 😘. And main conflict basically dutch wanting to be the main guy and idk switch the way they do things wether it be switching genres or having only one lead vocal as opposed to 3 👀 and Arthur obvi being goodest boi wants the band to stick together and keep their roots (western/country obvi). Idk just saw this tik tok ai cover of the 3 of them singing big iron and now i need a fic and my latest pairing im obsessing over is Joel/Arthur 🤪 and well Albert Mason/Arthur 🤭 but well if someone could make this a fic ok thank you bye 😁😘 plus if its a a Joel/Arthur pairing you can give it a star is born vibes cause Joels a singer too omg Someone plz write this! 😘 ok bye fr now 😁😘