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monsterbeetlebug · 1 year

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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."

#rdr2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption x reader #micah bell #micah bell x reader #piss kink #eventual smut #short smut #rdr2 smut #micah bell smut

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bubbledtee · 1 year

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one of my many wishes in life is to be apart of the van der linde gang but i’m not strong enough.

the amount of incredibly sexy men in that gang is unbearable. i’d be going feral tryna chat everyone up. orgy???

this is so real.

dutch, john, arthur, javier, charles, micah. i would literally let them use me all at the same time.

i also wanna have passionate rough sex with micah after we go on a job together and it goes super well. like the sexual tension would already be there and then the adrenaline once we got to where he was camped out 🤭🤭 he’d put me in the mounting position and everything too oooooh i’m so mentally ill

#micah bell #micah bell smut #ask #31-4am #bub’s thoughts

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tempting-andromeda · 8 months

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More nsfw headcanons because I can

Warning: NSFW, choking?, bondage, pinning, power play, crying, marks?, knife play, temperature play, drunk sex, humiliation, hair pulling, idk what else

Characters

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Eagle flies

Send in requests if you want to see specific characters or if you want me to add characters to the list !

Arthur Morgan

He has a thing for shoving his fingers on your mouth. It’s like a good way to rile him up. If you kiss his fingers and slowly put one in your mouth he watches you in awe.

Insists he doesn’t want you to go down on him but when you do he lets out the most animalistic moans and says the dirtiest shit ever

Whenever you moan sometimes he’ll respond with “yeah?” In the most seductive voice

He likes when you wear his clothing while you ride. Like wearing his signature blue shirt or his cowboy hat??? Drives him absolutely wild

Sometimes he tries to humor you by being submissive but after a while he takes control and uses your own words against you. He’s a huge tease about it

John Marston

Cannot stay still for the life of him. If you tie his hands down he’s using his hips. He refuses to stay still and it becomes a yoi problem once he’s free

He grabs everything. Thighs, ass, chest, sheets. He always has a handful of something whenever y’all are fucking.

Whenever he’s in control he likes to copy your moans and cries. He’ll be like “yeah? Yeah? What ya screaming my name for?” While he pounds into you

He’s the worst at serious sex. He always says something weird or awkward during it like “you want the marston special?” And if you bring it up he’ll be so bratty about it

Likes to pin you down. Even if he’s not being rough. He’ll hold your hips down or hands down while he kisses your neck.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He draws out everything. Like he’ll sit between your legs running a finger up and down your thighs while you beg and he’ll just whisper dirty things in your ear

kinda likes when you disobey him and he gets to spank you to make you “good” it riles him up so much

Sometimes he doesn’t do any work and he’ll just make you sit on his lap and ride him. Like he touches you but he won’t move his hips because he likes how desperate you get for him to take over.

Eye contact is a must. He’ll place soft bites on your wrist and ankles while making eye contact the whole time.

He likes to make you cry. Not the type of crying from when he’s mean but he likes when you get so overstimulated you cry.

Charles Smith

Loves to be the one to undress you. If you’re taking of your shirt he’s hands are quick to replace it and he insist he does it instead.

He cannot do quickies. He has to have you for over an hour and he makes sure it’s worth it.

Absolutely worships you. He can spend an hour just kissing you. It’s the worst and the best at the same time.

He likes when you leave marks on him. Like scratch marks, indents from your nails, bite marks, hickeys. It makes him feel so proud and he can’t take his mind off you when he sees them.

Likes to indulge in your kinks. he’s probably not the kinkiest but if you ask him to try out something he’s willing to and he usually does his best.

Javier Escuella

He likes to tell you what to do. He’ll tell you to flip over or to spread your legs and every time you obey him he gets even more turned on.

Loves to tease. He’ll tease you for hours, gently rubbing your thighs while you sit by the campfire, letting you sit in his lap while he lets you feel him harden under you, roughly grabs your hips while he slides behind you

Even though he likes to tell you what to do he loves when you tell him where to cum. He gets so eager.

He loves to stay in you after he finishes. Even if you asked him to finish somewhere else he’ll push himself back into you just to feel you.

Idk why I feel like he’s into temperature play. Like letting his knife get warm over a candle and then dragging the flat side over your skin.

Sean MacGuire

If you initiate intimacy he’s crumbling. He has the most active sex drive ever. Seeing you exist is a turn on for him so if you initiate it hes drooling over you.

Once he spilt his drink on you while y’all snuck off to have a quickie at a bar and now he’s addicted to drinking whiskey off of your skin.

He’s either real slow with foreplay, spreading your legs and putting you on full display for him or he’s super eager, bitting and pulling your clothes off.

He whines when y’all fuck but he refuses to admit that. He always says he groans like a man but in the moment he whimpers and whines in your ear.

Sometimes when he’s too excited he cums too fast and continues like it never happened. Like he’ll take a moment to catch his breath and then he’s back at it.

Lenny Summers

It’s rare he’s rough but sometimes he’s asks if he can “let loose” with you and it’s rough. His hands are gripping onto you and he’s just growling and grunting

Constantly pushes your hair out of your face to see you because he likes seeing your reactions. It gives him a huge confidence boost.

He likes for sex to be slow and sensual to make it more intimate but sometimes he gets too into it and he’ll press gentle kisses to the shell of your ear while he says stuff like “I promise next time I’ll be gentle”

His favorite position is missionary. It’s nearly impossible for him to stay in any other for long. Y’all can start with like cowgirl or doggy but as soon as he gets into it he flips you into missionary.

Sometimes he’ll beg but he always begs for something you’re already doing or he’ll just beg for you not to stop.

Kieran Duffy

His chest is so sensitive. If you even place your hands on his chest to brace yourself or just to pat his chest casually he’s holding back a whimper.

Gets so embarrassed when he’s turned on he doesn’t try to initiate it like others do he just slowly grinds himself against you.

He loves to bite the back of your neck when he’s behind you. He’ll slide his arms over your chest or waist and kinda nuzzle himself against your neck and just slowly bite your neck

Sometimes he doesn’t even take his pants off completely he’s so eager to have you. Like he’s able to pull himself out of his pants but they’re barely half way down his thighs (you usually have to take them all the way off)

He can barely make out anything when y’all are intimate. He’s just a whining mess. If he even gets anything out it’s probably him begging for something

Micah Bell

He LOVES embarrassing you. Like he’ll cover you in hickeys or not properly clean you up and make you walk around camp.

He makes you give him head while he’s busy. He likes the idea of you being a personal toy for him.

Doesn’t like when you’re automatically submissive. He thinks it takes all the fun out of it. He likes when you try to act all bratty.

He’s probably the most rough out of everyone but he doesn’t have an occasional gentle streak that he uses as a “treat” for you.

He gets too jealous sometimes so he asks you questions and makes you yell out his name like “so who’s fucking you like this tonight, whore? Me or him?”

Eagle Flies

Loves when his hair is pulled. It drives him crazy. the smallest tug makes him moan so loud.

No matter what position he needs to be close to you. His hands need to be on you and he needs to be able to kiss you, anywhere

He will say the most forward shit out of nowhere. Like he’ll have you in the most obscene position and he’ll say something like “wanna marry you one day.” Out of the blue

He whimpers when he’s about to finish. He’s not ashamed about it either.

Sex is one of his favorite ways to relieve stress but he makes sure you also feel good so he gives the best aftercare afterwards so you know he’s truly grateful

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moeitsu · 16 days

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: A blissful sunny day after a long hard night. Ao3 Wattpad Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.9 Ch.10 AN: Longer chapter, ~7k words Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 8 - Or Down Affections Cloudless Sky

Kate woke the next morning to the quiet serenade of songbirds and the soft caress of a gentle breeze through the leaves. The day embraced her with warmth, a welcome comfort after a long exhausting night. Sitting up, she found herself on Arthur’s cot, but he was nowhere in sight. A twinge of guilt tugged at her for taking his bed. Her waist was bound in cloth, the pain from her wound lingered but it was nothing she was not used to by now.

Her gaze drifted to the shoreline, where Belle and Lorena nibbled on cattails, exactly where they had been the night before. She sighed in relief, sensing that calm had returned and a semblance of normalcy had settled over the camp. The smell of eggs and pork filled the air, and her stomach made its hunger known.

Heading towards the chuck wagon, Kate noted the camp was now organized, a silent testament to the efficiency of her companions. However, Micah was nowhere to be seen. She made a mental note to have a friendly discussion with him later. Seizing a plate, she settled at the wooden table to eat, only to be joined by Abigail moments later.

“Mind if I sit with you?” She asked politely.

Kate shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Not at all,” she replied, gesturing for Abigail to join her.

Abigail smiled warmly as she settled onto a wooden crate, pulling Kate’s revolver from the pocket of her dress and sliding it across the table. “I just wanted to say thank you,” she admitted, her gratitude shining in her eyes, “for what you did for us last night.”

Kate accepted the revolver and holstered it, waving off Abigail’s thanks. “No thanks needed, Abigail. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Abigail sighed, her gaze drifting towards Jack in the distance, skipping rocks across the water. John was nearby, unloading the wagon while keeping a watchful eye on their son.

“I keep prayin’ for this all to end,” Abigail confessed, her voice tinged with weariness. “My boy deserves a better life than this.”

Kate empathized deeply with Abigail’s longing for a different life for her son. This was no environment to raise a child, but it was the hand they were dealt for survival. During her time here, however fleeting, Kate vowed to find a way to help them break free from this cycle of violence. They deserved a chance at a peaceful life, far removed from the shadows of death.

“I’m not a religious woman Abigail,” Kate began thoughtfully, “but in my life I’ve found that a prayer always has one of three answers; yes, not yet, and I have something else planned for you. I have faith that your boy will turn out just fine.” After all, he had the entire camp as his protectors, willing to sacrifice everything for his safety.

Abigail’s expression softened into a solemn smile. “I know that bravery is found in living,” she replied earnestly, “but sometimes I don’t feel very brave. I felt useless back there. If you hadn’t come along and given that rifle to John, I don’t know what would have happened.” She shuddered at the memories.

“That’s nonsense,” Kate retorted, squeezing Abigail's hand reassuringly, “you’re the bravest woman I know. There’s nothing more courageous than a mother willing to lay down her life for her son. And last night, I saw a strong woman fiercely protecting her child. I knew you would stop at nothing to defend your boy.”

Abigail’s smile deepened at Kate’s words, and she looked down bashfully as she placed her hand over Kate’s. “I hope that’s true.”

“I know that's true,” she interjected with conviction.

With a quiet laugh, Abigail stood to depart. “I think you would make a great mother, Kate,” she said, her words carrying genuine warmth. It meant a lot to Kate to hear such kindness, especially after everything she had been through. Her thoughts drifted back to Arthur and their conversation from the night before.

“Thank you,” Kate said sincerely. Before Abigail could leave, she added, “Have you seen Arthur this morning?”

“I think he’s sleeping against a tree over by the water,” Abigail pointed in his direction, and Kate could see the outline of his legs stretched out beneath a shady tree.

With an extra plate of breakfast and a cup of fresh coffee in hand, Kate made her way over to Arthur to express her gratitude for his service the previous night. As she approached, she was a little surprised to see that he was already awake, writing something in his journal. He closed it with a thunk when he noticed Kate’s figure approaching.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Arthur greeted with a warm smile.

Kate couldn't help but smile back. “Good morning, Arthur,” she said, bending down to hand him his food and drink.

“That for me?” Arthur exclaimed with surprise. She nodded as their hands met to pass the plate. His hunger was palpable. “Aw shucks, Kate, ya didn’t have to bring me breakfast,” he said bashfully, taking a grateful sip of coffee.

Kate settled into the sandy grass beneath the tree next to him, “it’s the least I can do, for patching me up last night,” she explained, “and for letting me steal your cot.” She added with a hint of embarrassment. She didn’t remember when she had fallen asleep.

Arthur chuckled, taking a bite of his eggs, “don’t mention it. How ya feeling anyways?” He inquired about the bullet wound in her side.

“I’ve been through worse,” she admitted with a bitter laugh, her hand grazing the side of her hip where he had squeezed the bullet through her flesh.

Arthur sighed, and gave her a sympathetic look, “I’m so sorry Kate, that is a hard life,” he said sincerely, recalling her recount of her past. “No one deserves to go through that.”

Kate waved off his apology. “I’ve made my peace with it,” she professed, her eyes meeting his own, “but I owe you an apology for how I acted at the ranch.” Arthur wanted to speak up and tell her he was the one who should be apologizing, but he let her continue.

“For what it’s worth. I know what it’s like to hate yourself just as much as you hate the world. And whatever darkness your past carries, I do not think less of you for it.”

His face softened, and his heart pulsed. Arthur felt like he was looking into a reflection of himself, or what he could have been. He concluded last night that Kate is the bravest woman he had ever met, braver than he could ever be. And he greatly admired her for it. Darkness and damnation was nothing new to him, but he believed in his heart that he was already too damned to be brought back to the light. He is a person who has caused so much suffering, he believed he didn’t deserve happiness. He had fully convinced himself of his own cruelty.

“Kate, I think I’m the one who owes you an apology. I -” he began. Suddenly, Arthur’s name was called from within the camp. His duties never ceased; even on quiet mornings. “Damnit,” he muttered. With a grunt he chugged the last of his coffee before standing. Turning to her he promised, “I’ll come find you later.”

Kate smiled sympathetically with a nod, offering him a parting reminder, “don’t keep hidden what matters Arthur, even from yourself.”

He placed his hat on his head and tipped it to her in a warm gesture before taking off back into the camp. Kate settled against the tree and was about to close her eyes just as her loyal mare Lorena came trotting over to her side of the beach. Eager for attention. She chuckled at the sight, “how ya doin’ pretty girl.”

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

After valentine, we fled the country and headed even further south and east, camping by a lake. This is pretty much new country for me. If only we had fled west out of Blackwater, we could be free now, out where we belong beyond civilization with the savages and the animals. Here, we won’t ever be at home.

By some miracle, my mean nasty ugly self has yet to scare Kate away. Even after that debt collecting mess. That kinda work is revolting, and it shames me, and I think she is the first woman to ever see me and set me straight. Mary saw this side of me too, but she knew I would never change, so she left me. I could not offer her the life she deserved. Oh Mary, what a couple of fools we were.

Kate said she came back for Abigail and her boy, from one mother to another. She wants peace for them too, away from this nonsense and lies. Ain’t that what we’re all seeking? Not sure I know myself anymore. Dutch don’t seem too worried that the law keeps finding us, I’m beginnin’ to doubt his wisdom.

I had never seen a woman fight so brutally as Kate, and now I know why. I can handle the unkindness of existence. But to hear it from the lips of a good honest woman, it damn near broke my heart. I don’t know how she does it. After everything that life handed her, goodness comes naturally to her. Like she does not oppose GOOD vs EVIL as it rages within me. I’ve seen her rage and bloodlust and it frightens me, but she is ashamed of that part of herself. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.

Arthur made his way through camp in search of Dutch, a slight annoyance lingering from his interrupted conversations with Kate. Yet Kate seemed understanding; she knew he was a busy man and showed sympathy towards him. Last night, as he tenderly stitched her back together, he saw a different side of her—she had bared her heart and soul. He realized why it was important for him to know this side of her; she saw someone she could relate to. But Arthur believed he was beyond saving.

Unlike Kate, Arthur was born into the flame. Blood and violence had been his companions since childhood; he never experienced the loving embrace of a mother or father. A child born in the flame loves the fire and becomes its fuel, perpetuating its rage.

Kate, on the other hand, was burned by the flame. She had a loving family, a proper and honest life with her husband and child—all stripped away. Then, the fire engulfed her. She had to become the flame to ensure it would never burn her again.

Arthur found Dutch by the lakeshore on the opposite side of camp. "How are you doing, old friend?" Dutch asked, calling out to him.

"Fine," Arthur retorted, his frustration evident. Last night's events and Micah's actions toward Kate weighed heavily on him, and he felt Dutch bore some responsibility. Since arriving at the new hideout, Dutch hadn't even acknowledged Kate, let alone thanked her for her help.

"It's funny... us ending up down here," Dutch continued, his voice reflective. "My daddy died in a field in Pennsylvania fighting this lot. Did I ever tell you that?"

Arthur nodded wearily. "Many times, Dutch."

Dutch noticed his disinterest. "I see I'm boring you, Arthur."

He blew out a breath, his frustration simmering. "No, you're worrying me. We could've lost people last night. Why didn't you send some men back to help us?"

"We have lofty goals, Arthur," Dutch replied, his tone rehearsed. "Our primary objective was to escape the law."

“Our primary objective is to keep everyone safe!” Arthur's voice rose with anger. “Kate took a bullet for the Marston’s, that's more than I can say about you Dutch.”

"Society is reforming, son," Dutch said, sounding like he was delivering a sermon. "We're trying to make it better, kinder, and truer. There will be casualties..."

"The world don’t want us no more. Why aren't we heading back west? What are we even doing here?" Arthur pressed.

Dutch sighed, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We are dreamers in a world of facts, Arthur. But come on, let me make it up to you, son."

Typical Dutch, always deflecting when he didn't have a direct answer. Everything was a strategic move in his mind, and he always had to be the one in control. Arthur followed as Dutch led him further down the beach, where a large rowboat was waiting ashore with Hosea and John standing nearby.

"We've got the day, and it's beautiful out. Thought it'd be nice to take my boys out fishin' like the good old times," Dutch said with a smile. "Hosea says there's a creek around here, probably full of fish."

Arthur tipped his hat to his father and brother as they approached. John looked just as perplexed as Arthur. They weren't kids anymore, and it had been ages since they did anything together that didn't involve something illegal.

"You don't look too rosy, old friend. I thought this warmer weather would—" Dutch began, turning to Hosea.

"My days of looking good are long over, Dutch," Hosea admitted with a chuckle, then turned to Arthur. "How's the young lady? Heard she got shot last night."

Arthur sighed. "She'll be alright. Nothing too bad. But I'm gonna have some words with that sack of shit Micah," he added bitterly.

"I'll do you one better and put a bullet between his eyes," John quipped, earning a chuckle from Arthur. "I owe Kate that much. She seriously did me a solid by lending me her rifle."

"Nobody's shootin’ nobody," Dutch's gravelly voice cut through. "Now c'mon, help an old man get this in the water." He gestured toward the wooden boat.

Arthur and John exchanged a look. Hosea rolled his eyes. "Always bursting the bubble, you. C'mon, boys, let's go catch some fish." He joined Dutch in pushing the boat into the water.

Together, they climbed aboard the wooden craft. John took up the oars and rowed toward the supposed creek Hosea had mentioned. As he rowed, Arthur took in the surrounding scenery. It was a beautiful, cloudless day, the sun beating down warmly. It had been a while since he could relax and enjoy himself, so he set aside his grievances with Dutch, if only for the afternoon.

Dutch was the first to break the silence, as usual. "You know, before any of them back there," he began, gesturing toward the other gang members, "it was just us. The curious couple and their two unruly sons." He chuckled with a grateful sigh. "This feels good, thanks for doing this with me, boys," Dutch added, his expression full of pride and gratitude as he looked at his two sons.

He continued, "I feel like we can really breathe here. As thick and soupy as this air is, it might even do your whistling pipes some good, Hosea."

Hearing Dutch comment on Hosea's health worried Arthur. Since they left Colter, Hosea's health had been declining. The harsh cold had taken its toll, and he feared his father figure was nearing his end. Hosea had a rattling cough that struck fear into Arthur's heart every time he heard it, imagining the worst as Hosea struggled for air.

"I was once in this country with Bessie," Hosea ignored Dutch's comment, lost in his memories of his late wife. "Oh, it feels like a lifetime ago."

“It was a lifetime ago,” Dutch chimed, “what a life we have lived. How well we have fought, especially you two.” His gaze finding Arthur and John’s. “With just a little more money, we’ll be out of here in no time. We just need to stay hidden.”

Hosea raised a brow, “oh, is that so?”

“I have a plan Hosea, I’ve got ideas hatching I just,” he hesitated a moment, “I need you with me, not against me. All of you.”

Arthur nodded, “ ‘course Dutch.”

“We’re always with you Dutch,” John piped in from the back of the boat.

The unlikely family rowed the rest of the way in comfortable silence. They listened to the lapping of the water, the song of the seabirds, and felt the gentle breeze tickle their hair. It truly was a beautiful day for fishing. Arthur tilted his face to the sun and relaxed his shoulders. Moments like this made him believe that maybe things would turn out okay for them in the end.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate spent the morning tending to her mare, staying close to the shoreline, brushing and washing the blood from Lorena's coat. She hummed a quiet tune, feeling Lorena's affectionate sniffs on her face. Guilt gnawed at Kate for pushing Lorena too hard the previous night, though the horse seemed unfazed. Memories flooded back of when they first met.

Lorena was found in an abandoned barn, where she and River had chased down horse thieves. Just a frightened filly, barely a year old, she had been left tied up after the thieves fled in a hurry. It took Kate months to earn her trust, enduring every buck and bite. But the bond they forged was unbreakable—Lorena would stop at nothing for her rider, just as Kate would gladly lay down her life for her baby girl.

As Kate combed Lorena's dark mane, she noticed the mare's ears flickering back and forth, as if sensing something. Kate was about to ask her what was wrong when Sadie's voice erupted from within the camp.

“Say whatever you damn well please, but I tell you, if you ask me to chop one more vegetable I’m going to kill you!” She shouted, her frustration evident.

Mr. Pearson answered her in equal anger, “and if you don’t stop hissing at me, I’m going to kill you!” He retorted.

Kate spun on her heel and sprinted back into camp toward the chuck wagon. There, she found Sadie and Pearson squabbling, with Sadie brandishing a knife and Pearson looking ready to explode.

“Can’t somebody else help you cook for once? I ain’t your damn housewife!” Sadie shouted, pointing the tip of the knife at Pearson.

“You put that knife down or you’re going to be missing a hand, young lady!” Pearson roared back.

Kate approached the wagon, hands on her hips in disappointment. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” she shouted over them.

“I ain’t chopping vegetables for a living,” Sadie answered, slamming the knife down on the cutting board. She threw her hands up in frustration. “And I ain’t being lazy neither. I can work, but not like this!”

Kate sympathetically tilted her head. Despite their differences, she could understand Sadie's frustration. She'd gladly handle the simple duties and stay out of trouble, but Sadie thrived on adventure. You couldn’t keep a woman like her cooped up for long.

Sadie moved to the other side of the wagon, taking a deep breath before turning back to Pearson and Kate. “My husband and I shared the work, all of it,” she explained. “I tended to the fields, hunted, carried a gun, and used a knife.” Her voice rose in anger. “If you keep me here, I’ll skin this old coot and serve him for dinner!”

“Watch your damn mouth, you crazy goddamn fishwife!” Pearson retorted, pointing an accusing finger. Sadie looked ready to pounce.

It was about time Kate stepped between the two, “that’s enough!” She yelled, using her hands to distance the two feral cats from scrapping, she placed a hand on Sadies shoulder to hold her back. She turned her gaze to Pearson, “that includes you too.”

The old man raised his hands in defeat with a grunt. Kate turned to Sadie. “Why don’t we ride into town today? See what we can stir up,” she suggested. “Need anything while we’re out, Pearson?”

The cook reached into his wagon and handed over two pieces of paper. “Here’s my list. Could you also post this letter for me?” Kate nodded, tucking the items into her satchel. With a tip of her hat, she let Pearson get back to work.

The two widows climbed into the empty supply wagon, Kate taking up the reins. Together, they departed from camp and made their way toward Rhodes.

“I guess I’m back to bein’ the mailwoman,” Sadie grumbled. “At least we get to go shoppin’.”

Kate chuckled, nudging her knee against Sadie's. “Oh, come on. It ain’t so bad. We just earned ourselves the entire afternoon to do as we please,” she said with a playful wink. Sadie met her gaze and grinned.

Once they were away from camp, Kate broached the conversation again. “You cooled down now?” she asked, her voice gentle and concerned.

“I guess,” Sadie sighed. “I just hate taking orders from that sweaty half-wit. Hey, what did you do with that letter?” she inquired.

Kate chortled, “oh so the mail woman is also reading people’s letters now?” She asked with a laugh, slightly concerned that she may have snooped in Arthur’s personal letter from Mary.

“Not particularly, I just wanna see who that old bastards writin’ too.”

Kate shook her head, sighing as Sadie eagerly took the letter. In a mockingly low voice, Sadie began to read aloud. “Dear Aunt Cathy,” she started, “I haven’t heard from you in some time, so I pray to the Lord above that your health has not deteriorated further…” Her mocking trailed off as she read the first half of the letter.

Kate sucked in an awkward breath. “Maybe you should, uh, stop there, Sadie.”

The woman pressed on, her eyes scanning over the pages. “Blah blah blah, it’s boring. Oh! Wait a sec, listen to this; since we last corresponded I have traveled widely, making no small name for myself. Before you ask, I am still yet to take a wife but I can assure you it’s not for lack of suitors…”

Kate snorted and quickly covered her mouth, unable to contain her laughter. Sadie’s infectious chuckles mixed with her own amusement. “You think he ever talked to a woman he didn’t pay for?” Sadie managed to say between laughs.

“I guess we’re all hiding behind something,” Kate replied, meeting Sadie’s amused gaze. The laughter bubbled up again, and soon they were both hysterical. The wagon veered off track as Kate was distracted, but she quickly yanked on the reins to right themselves.

“Oh, you are something else Sadie Adler,” Kate gasped, trying to compose herself.

Sadie chuckled and affectionately slapped Kate’s knee. “I think we’re running with a bunch of idiots dressed up like outlaws.” She handed the letter back to Kate as the wagon pulled into town. They guided the horses over to the general store and hopped down.

“I’ll mail this while you do the shopping,” Kate stated, nodding as they parted ways.

After all these years, Kate still held out hope that her aunt would someday write back to her. In every town she passed through, she asked the post office to mail a letter for her. She continued to write to her aunt, but she stopped receiving word back almost a decade ago. She could only assume her aunt was no longer living, but she enjoyed writing her letters nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for them to finish their assigned errands; the post office was a short walk from the general store. As Kate walked back, she saw Sadie and the store clerk finishing up loading the wagon. Sadie had purchased a new outfit, her old worn-out jeans and top replaced by a nice pair of black dukes and a fresh yellow button-down. She looked more at ease after getting out of camp, but Kate suspected the fun wasn’t over yet.

"Alright, anything else we need to do here?" Sadie inquired, dusting her hands and placing them on her hips.

Kate smiled, “Care to join me for a drink?” She nodded towards the saloon up the street.

Sadie followed her gaze and turned back with a grin, “After you, Miss McCanon.”

The two widows settled on the porch of the saloon facing the sun, each with a chilled glass of spiked sweet tea. It wasn’t enough to get them drunk, just enough to take the edge off. It was a beautiful day, so why waste it running errands? Kate’s cheeks were flushed, both from the beating sun and her drink, but her heart felt light. After the hell they all went through last night, she felt she deserved this.

Sadie, equally deep in her glass, ran an idle finger around the rim. “You know, my Jake would’ve loved it here. He was always complaining ‘bout the cold, but I told him a hundred times we could move south and he refused,” she said, lost in the memory of her husband.

Kate nodded somberly, “My husband would’ve liked it here too. He was from Kentucky but moved to Boston when he was a kid. I know he missed the country dearly.”

After a moment, Kate asked a question that had been on her mind, “How come you and Jake never had children?” Despite rarely having time together, they enjoyed sharing pieces of their lives with one another. Kate had told Sadie about her husband and daughter over one of their many late-night poker games. It brought them closer, and they had more in common than she realized.

“We thought about it, but where we lived up in the Grizzlies, it was no place to raise a child,” Sadie explained, scanning the town and its bustling people. “Although, I think this country would’ve been great for us. The owner at the general store said they were building a school here.”

“Can’t say putting kids in school won’t make the world better,” Kate said with a somber sigh.

“At least it’s progress,” Sadie added.

“I’m not even sure I know what that word means anymore,” Kate retorted, taking a sip from her glass.

Sadie leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “This town is full of drunks, Kate. I’m not sure anybody here knows what that word means.” Kate looked over at Sadie and couldn't help but let out a laugh. The two girls chuckled as their laughter fed one another.

After an hour, they decided it was time to head back. Sadie took up the reins this time; she was a little tipsy, as were they both at this point. But it was nothing they couldn’t handle. After a few minutes of riding, they left the town perimeter and entered the plains again, when a few men on horses approached them.

"Hey there," one of the men called out, "what you ladies up to?"

“Just headin’ home,” Kate answered politely.

One of the men maneuvered his horse in front of the wagon, causing Sadie to pull the reins to a halt. “You’re in Lemoyne Raider country. You need to pay a toll to pass through here,” the man declared.

Lemoyne Raiders? Kate's mind raced as she connected the pieces from last night; these people must be from the same group that attacked them. Her demeanor shifted, and she gazed at the two men before her from under the brim of her hat.

“Oh, is that so?” she began coolly, “I don’t think I’ve heard of you.”

“We’re gonna need you to pull over this wagon right now,” the man on Sadie's side of the wagon demanded. Kate caught the flash of iron from his gun as it glinted in the sun. Sadie noticed it too; she turned her head to meet Kate’s gaze. They shared a moment of unspoken understanding, nodding ever so slightly. With a wink, Sadie signaled to make their move.

“Here’s your toll you son of a bitch!” Kate shouted. In unison the two women upholstered their revolvers and shot the men dead, on either side of the wagon.

The raiders tumbled out of their saddles as Sadie cracked the reins, sending the wagon careening forward at a relentless pace. More men appeared from behind, closing in on them along the dry, dusty road.

“Let’s keep this little squabble between us,” Kate chuckled to Sadie, preparing to deal with the raiders. She aimed her pistol and fired, missing her target. With a frustrated grunt, she took another shot, hitting a man in the shoulder this time. She made a mental note to retrieve her rifle from John when they returned.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Laughter echoed through the secluded creek, startling birds from the trees. Four fishing lines bobbed idly in the water as the two older gentlemen reminisced about embarrassing tales from their boys' younger days. Despite catching only a few perch and bass, the fish weren’t biting much, perhaps due to their wooden watercraft rocking from their rowdy chuckles. But they couldn’t care less; nothing could spoil such a pleasant afternoon.

"Remember when little John got so spooked holding a fish that he fell right out of the boat? Thank God Arthur was with us or the kid would've drowned!" Dutch chuckled heartily, slapping his knee.

John shook his head, laughing at the memory. "Yeah, well, at least I didn't go to the market, buy the three biggest bass, and try to pass them off like I caught 'em," he teased, nodding towards Arthur. "Dumbass didn't think we'd run into the guy who sold it to him!"

“Oh, not this again,” Arthur grinned, feigning annoyance. "Maybe I should toss you overboard right now, Marston. Let's see how fast you can swim to shore," he playfully threatened. "Oh, that's right, you still can't swim!" He chuckled heartily.

The four men shared another round of laughter. As their giggles died down, Hosea noted the time, “We’ve been out here a while, boys. What do you say we head back and get this cooked for dinner?”

The group nodded in agreement, and Hosea picked up the oars. He was about to lower them into the water when Arthur playfully tapped his arm. “Let me row, you two are getting too old for real labor,” he said with a grin. Remembering how weak Hosea was getting, Arthur wasn’t about to let him do the work. He wanted Hosea to enjoy the evening without tiring himself out.

“And you’re too dumb for anything else,” Hosea quipped back with a smile.

Arthur let out a hearty laugh as he took his seat and lowered the oars. “You’re still too quick for me, old man!”

Hosea playfully bopped him on the top of his head. “I just enjoy picking on children,” he winked. Their banter flowed effortlessly; Arthur always enjoyed spending time with Hosea. He loved Dutch too, but he saw Hosea more as a father figure. Hosea was his role model, and Arthur was his biggest fan.

“Well, I guess we didn’t have much luck fishing,” Dutch remarked after a moment, looking at their small haul.

“Bad luck and stupid fish,” John mused.

“Or maybe the fish had good luck and we’re just stupid,” Arthur added with a snicker.

As Arthur rowed steadily, following the shoreline back to camp, Hosea let out a sigh and gazed out at the water. After a moment, he spoke up. “How do you boys feel about a song?”

The boys launched into a hearty old sea chanty led by Hosea, with Arthur and John joining in on the chorus. As they neared camp, laughter escaped them, a shared contentment settling in. Dutch and Hosea took the fish, signaling they would bring them to Pearson, while Arthur and John guided the boat to a secluded spot on the other side of camp to safeguard it from prying eyes.

Pushing the boat through the shallow waters, John broke the quiet. “I had fun today. Wasn’t sure what Hosea was up to dragging me out of bed this morning, but I actually enjoyed it.”

Arthur chuckled, a hint of playful jab in his voice. “Maybe now you’ll remember to take your own son fishing sometime.”

“Maybe, if someone wasn’t already taking him,” John shot back, irritation creeping into his tone.

Arthur straightened, his expression serious. “Don’t give me that shit, Marston,” he spat,” If you’re not stepping up, what’s the difference? You’ll just run off again.”

“Why are you so interested in my life? Don’t you have your own?” John retorted.

Arthur sighed, his tone softer, “just figure yourself out John, you can’t be two people at once.”

John scoffed, a touch of bitterness coloring his voice. “You’re one to talk, Morgan! At least my kid is alive. Can’t say the same about yours.” He immediately regretted his words as Arthur’s eyes darkened, and he moved closer through the water.

“I am one to talk Marston,” Arthur replied, his conviction mixed with regret. “You left that boy, your family, for nearly a whole damn year!”

John grimaced, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “You know it ain’t that simple. I wasn’t—” He paused, then continued with a lower voice. “I wasn’t ready to be a father.”

Arthur softened, sympathy in his tone. “And you think I was? Look how that turned out.”

“See? You and I are the same,” John remarked.

“No, we’re not,” Arthur countered with gravity. “You have a family, John. For the love of God, don’t abandon them.”

The boat finally rounded the bend, hidden from strangers’ view. Arthur said nothing more as he left John and headed into camp, his mind heavy with old memories and lingering regrets.

As Arthur made his way toward the fire, ready to settle in for the evening with a cold beer and fresh fish for dinner, rowdy laughter near the chuck wagon caught his attention. To his surprise, Kate and Sadie were busy unloading supplies for Pearson.

"What’s got you girls laughing like a couple of hyenas on caffeine?" Arthur asked with a smile, relieved to hear Kate’s laughter lifting his spirits. He found himself thinking of her more and more, even wishing to be the reason behind her smile.

Sadie chortled and exchanged a look with Kate. "Don’t worry ‘bout it, cowboy," she replied with a laugh. Pearson waved off the girls, and Sadie bid them farewell, mentioning she was off to freshen up before dinner. Kate turned back to Arthur with a smile, and the two of them made their way to the fire to catch up on their day's adventures.

"Heard you caught us some fish for dinner," Kate noted.

Arthur chuckled. "Well, it ain’t much, but it'll do. What were you up to today?"

Kate leaned back against the log, stretching her legs toward the fire. "Posted some mail, did a little shopping, got some drinks with Sadie…" She trailed off, then added, "and, uh, may have run into those raiders again." Arthur sat up, shooting her a worried look.

"Easy there, cowpoke," Kate reassured him, giggling. "Sadie and I took care of it. Just a couple of dumbasses trying to make a quick buck." She shook her head with annoyance.

As the rest of the gang members gathered around the fire with the setting sun, Arthur and Kate continued to chat about their day. The smell of fried fish filled the air, and everyone eagerly awaited dinner. Bottles of beer were passed around, and Kate accepted hers with gratitude. It felt like the perfect way to end the day—crisp drink, good food, and great company.

Javier settled in with his guitar, but before he could strum a tune, he turned his attention to Kate. "Why don’t you play us something tonight?" He offered her his guitar with both hands. Surprised by the gesture, Kate shook her head bashfully. "Oh c’mon, cariño, don’t be shy! Arthur told me you used to play."

Kate shot Arthur a teasing glance, and he held up his hands defensively. "Alright, I’ll give it a go," she caved.

As Kate tuned the wooden instrument to her liking, she caught sight of a familiar face entering camp—Micah. Arthur noticed him too and started to rise, but Kate gestured for him to stay put. "If you do all the talkin’ for me, Morgan, I’m gonna forget how to talk," she said with a reassuring grin. She slipped a small bone knife from her satchel, concealing it from the others. "Be right back," she said as she got up to intercept Micah before he could find Dutch.

With purposeful steps, Kate approached Micah. Threatening him in front of the entire camp wouldn’t work, and brute force had already been attempted—she needed a new approach.

"Micah!" Kate called out in a bogus friendly tone, drawing the attention of everyone around. She saw the confusion in his eyes, tinged with arrogance. "Well, looks like you’re still here. Guess I should apologize for my aberration," he said, his voice like a hissing snake.

Kate chuckled as she closed the distance between them. "No apology needed, Mr. Bell. It was just a misunderstanding," she said loud enough for the others to hear.

To his surprise, Kate draped her arm over his shoulder in a seemingly affectionate gesture, their heights nearly matching. Before Micah could react, he felt the sharp tip of something against his neck.

"Walk with me," Kate said in a low voice, her grip firm on his neck. She led them away from the camp, speaking directly into his ear, much like he had done to her when she first joined the gang.

"I’m not here to hand out gold stars for your sudden epiphany, Micah. Try me again, and I promise you, I will return the favor tenfold," she spat, the knife pressing dangerously against his jugular. One false move and he would be bleeding out in the dry grass.

Micah chuckled, his demeanor shifting. "Is that an invitation?" he retorted dryly.

Kate brushed off his insinuation with a steely gaze. "I assure you, I've dealt with far scarier men than you. You're nothing but a coward hiding behind your pawns. I've faced men like you, tortured men like you. You relish in others' suffering, but you haven't known suffering yourself. And I won't show you mercy."

With that, she withdrew her hand, flicking it upwards in a swift but gentle motion that left a shallow cut on his chin, drawing blood. "Consider this your one and only warning."

With a dismissive flick of her boot, Kate pivoted on her heel and strode back toward the welcoming glow of the campfire, leaving Micah to nurse his wounded pride. As she moved away, she caught a glimpse of him rubbing his chin thoughtfully, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips, ““you and I would make a good team Kate.” She rolled her eyes and continued her walk.

Seating herself beside the crackling flames, Kate casually picked up Javier's guitar, her movements deliberate yet nonchalant. The instrument felt familiar in her hands, providing a comforting distraction from the lingering tension.

Arthur leaned in close, his voice a low murmur against her ear. "How'd it go?" he inquired, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

Kate couldn't help but laugh, her confidence unwavering despite the encounter with Micah. "Oh, you know," she replied with a mischievous glint in her eye, "the usual threats and warnings. I might have mentioned something about plucking his eyeballs out and serving them for dinner... but I was only half serious." She shot Arthur a playful wink before turning her attention to the rest of the gang.

Seated comfortably around the fire, the gang members welcomed Kate's return with warm smiles and eager anticipation. She glanced around at her companions, a sense of camaraderie settling over the group.

"So, what'll it be tonight?" Kate asked, her fingers beginning to pluck at the guitar strings.

As the flames danced and shadows flickered, memories of her father's cheerful tunes filled Kate's mind. She recalled a particular song he used to sing on balmy summer evenings, a lighthearted melody that brought joy even after the toughest of days. Adjusting her grip on the guitar, Kate launched into the familiar tune, her voice carrying over the crackling fire with a warmth that echoed the affection she felt for her makeshift family.

I dream in the morning, that she brings me water,

And I dream in the evening that she brings me wine.

Just a poor man’s daughter, from Puerto Peñasco.

South of the border, in old Mexico.

There’s a great hot desert, south of Mexicali.

And if you dont got water, you’d better not go.

Tequila won’t get you across that desert,

To Evangelina, in old Mexico.

The fire I feel for the woman I love, is drivin’ me insane.

Knowing she’s waitin’, and I can’t get there.

God only knows that I wracked my brain, to try to find a way,

To reach that woman, in old Mexico.

Evangelina, I miss you so.

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pinkiepie20000 · 3 months

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"stop using every tag you can think of" SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPPPPOPPPPPEPPSPSSPSPSPSOSOSPP

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aspentart · 1 month

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Almost 1.3k words into my Arthur fic so let’s get a new poll going!

I’d like to remind everyone that I still attend classes and am searching for a job (+ other new aldut-ish responsibilities that include making sure I’m not rotting in my bed); my ‘schedule’ will essentially be nonexistent :,)

I’d also like to add that I prefer writing MLM content, considering that I am gay, and mainly seek out MLM content. I’m still more than willing to write for fem/nb readers, but my fanfic is usually a tad self indulgent due to the LACK of MLM content (that isn’t a little weird or grossly fetishized to the point the entire thing feels like straight woman yaoi)

I’ve been itching to write something for Charles :3

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long-lost-cullen · 1 year

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Red Dead Masterlist

smut**, fluff^, angst”

One-shots

Micah Bell x Reader

Hat Thief ^

#red dead #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #micah bell #micah bell x reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #john marston #john marston x reader #sean macguire #sean macguire x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #angst #fluff #smut #fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

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nizzysam · 1 year

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The Bear And The Fire

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Micah Bell/Arthur Morgan

Tags: Angst and Porn, Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Hate Sex, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, No Aftercare, First Time

Summary: Micah is taking up woodcarving and has no intention of arguing today. Arthur, on the other hand, has an overwhelming urge to tease him until Micah can't take it anymore. Or, Micah finds out why Arthur is so het up that evening.

Snippet: Since Micah did not take it on his initiative, Arthur walked over and slammed it against his chest. Then Micah took it and their hands brushed against each other. Arthur was warm, the figurine a little damp.

AO3 Link - or read under the cut!

Micah was sitting around the campfire. In front of him, Reverend Swanson swallowed beer after beer and stared into the flames. Being anywhere near the Reverend sickened him. Micah hated the idle and the weak. And Swanson was both of those things. This time he decided he was not going to broach an argument. Judging by Swanson's bewildered look, he wasn't likely to get a response. There would have been little to no fun in that game, as he leaned when he kicked his unconscious, religious ass awake. And he surely didn’t want Miss Grimshaw yelling at him.

Besides, Micah had other things to do. He had been busy carving wood for a few hours, an art requiring patience and precision. Now twisting the piece of wood in his hands, Micah was carefully scanning each screwing craved with his knife. Under the firelight, he gave a couple more touches and added some detail to the sculpture.

"After you, that's the ugliest pig I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Very funny, Morgan. It's a bear."

“That ain’t a bear.”

“I made it. It’s a bear.”

“Bet you saw a giant pig and thought that was it.”

“Oh, you’re a comedian now.”

Arthur sat next to him, close enough to brush against his knee. Then he reached further and grabbed the figurine. It was so unexpected that Micah did not have time to react. Arthur Morgan had snatched the bear figurine from his hands and was now looking at it with an unimpressed look.

“You forgot the teeth, idiot.”

Micah shifted his gaze from Arthur's profile to the statuette. There was something wrong with it, and he finally realized what it was. The only problem was that Arthur had pointed it out. He clicked his tongue and took the bear back.

“It ain’t finished.”

Lips tightly pursed, Micah tried to carve out the bear's fangs. He could feel Arthur's gaze on him and it was unnerving. He tried giving him a couple of dirty looks in the hopes Arthur would receive the message. On the third glance, he lost his patience. Micah straightened himself up and looked at Arthur in a quiet but aggressive plea to stop staring.

"I'm just teasing you," Arthur said, hitting Micah's knee with his own.

At that moment Micah realized how close the other man was to him. Many questions swirled in his head, but he ignored them all. Arthur was obviously in the mood to rile him up.

"I don't like people this close to me."

"You like ‘em closer?"

“What are you trying to do here?”

“I want to see how you finish the… bear.”

The way Arthur pronounced the last word had him rolling his eyes. He inhaled noisily and turned his head to look at Arthur once more. That night Micah decided he wanted to be by himself. He didn't want to argue with anyone, hell, he barely wanted to talk at all. But Morgan decided that night was the night to tease him. His bad for sitting around the main campfire.

Micah stood up in silence and walked to the fire on the other side of the camp. He gained twenty minutes of peace, which he devoted to carving the fangs and adding details of the fur, nose, and claws. It looked like a bear through and through. Morgan was just trying to rattle him. That was a full-fledged bear!

"Look here."

"Why do you have to sneak up on people like that?"

"Look."

Arthur was standing behind him, holding his journal open on a yellowed page with a drawing of a bear. Micah stared at it, sitting still, clutching his figurine in his hands. It was the most beautiful drawing he had ever seen. Sure, he hadn't seen many, but Morgan's was definitely one of the best.

"Well. That's... good."

Arthur closed the journal but kept standing behind him. What did he want? Micah told him what he wanted to hear, so why didn't he leave?

Arthur had walked all the way up there to show him that drawing to prove himself superior even in that respect. Micah realized he was clutching the figurine so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

"What is it, Morgan?" his tone was a grunt. Micah was losing his patience.

"Nothing. Just wanted to show you what a bear looks like."

Micah tried to get up from the chair but Arthur's heavy hand held him down. He felt the grip on his shoulder tighten and push him back into his seat. Then Arthur hunched over, his face close to Micah's ear.

"Just tryin’ to help."

“The hell with you, Morgan!”

“Alright, calm down. I’m done now. C’mon, show me the bear.”

“Go bother someone else. Not in the mood today.”

“I said I’m done.”

“Yeah, me too.”

By now Micah's breathing had quickened and Arthur's hand was still resting on his shoulder. He had had enough. If Arthur wanted to see the figurine so badly, he could watch it burn.

In one movement he freed himself from Arthur's grasp and threw the figurine into the fire.

"All yours," he said as he looked into the flames. He walked away, laughing to himself—an empty imitation of a laugh.

He couldn't have anything. Not a minute's respite, not a win, nothing. He went to sit under the broken chuck wagon at the end of the camp. There, nobody would bother him. The trees moved their leaves against the cool evening wind. A trickle of moonlight illuminated them enough to make out their branches.

Arthur was probably annoyed now that he could no longer mock him. Good. Micah found himself mulling over the figurine. He had worked on it for hours and now it was ashes. Foolish.

He sighed, both arms on his knees, and began fiddling with the carving knife, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. Several minutes passed in silence.

“Plenty of room somewhere else.”

He heard footsteps coming up behind him, and without turning around or looking away from that something in the distance, he invited whoever was approaching to go back the way they came.

“Bears are tough animals, y’know.”

To hell with his promise not to start fights. To hell with keeping to himself. Screw all of it. Morgan wanted a fight? Fine. He was going to give him what he was asking for.

Micah stood up, knife in hand. He was face to face with the other man, a few steps separating them. Built-up anger was boiling inside Micah, about to explode. It was clear from his tense shoulders and piercing gaze.

Arthur stood in front of him, holding something at stomach height. He stood there watching the blond man. Micah had left his white hat on the ground and now his hair fell tousled on his shoulders. Messier than usual, Arthur noticed. He took a step.

"You think you're really something, don't you? How about I show you how well I can carve?"

"Put the knife away, you ain't impressing no one. Here."

Arthur extended his arm. In his hand the charred figurine. Micah's shoulders relaxed and his brow furrowed. He was never going to understand what was going on in Morgan's head.

Micah did not take the figurine; he merely observed it. Then he looked at Arthur. "What are you playing at?"

"I may have taken it too far."

Micah looked away and snorted. He did not like the situation. Arthur was up to something, and he knew that whatever it was, it would not end well.

"What. Do you. Want," Micah was not yelling, but almost. It wouldn't be long before rage would set in.

Seeing the figurine he had spent hours on in that state drove him to his breaking point.

"Just trying to make amends. It looks more like a black bear now, huh?"

“Oh, so now it looks like a bear.”

“Take it.”

Since Micah did not take it on his initiative, Arthur walked over and slammed it against his chest. Then Micah took it and their hands brushed against each other. Arthur was warm, the figurine a little damp.

“Put a hand in the fire for me, Morgan?”

“I right my wrongs.”

“Here he is, high and mighty Morgan. You ain’t getting a reward. Get lost.”

But Arthur did not move. He kept looking at him. There was now only an arm's length between them. A small twitch flashed on Arthur's face. Micah knew it wasn't over.

"I've wrapped it in a wet towel so you don't burn your little fingers," he said as he slowly drew closer to the blond.

Micah held his position and reacted to the provocation by maintaining eye contact with the most menacing expression he had. He still had the figurine pressed on his chest and Morgan's hand holding it steady.

"I've burned mine. Can you feel it?"

Micah could feel it. Arthur's fingers rubbed lightly against his and went to rest on his chest. The contact was light and softened by the shirt, but Micah was very aware of the heat coming off them. He felt tingling where Arthur was touching him. And that look, that slight lip twitch Arthur had inadvertently made… Micah knew that dance very well.

So that was it. Arthur Morgan was horny. Micah was familiar with the expressions of a horny man, and couldn't help but smirk.

"Just can't resist, can you?"

At that phrase, Arthur abandoned all traces of self-control and smiled back. He looked around, making sure there was no one nearby. Then he pushed the blond behind the chuck wagon so that they were conveniently hidden from the camp.

“I knew you was down for it.”

“I ain’t said nothing yet.”

“No need.”

Arthur placed the figurine in the chuck wagon. Now his hand was free to explore Micah's chest. He was apparently in no mood for foreplay and wasted no time in bringing his other hand to Micah's side to draw him closer for a kiss.

“Whoa, easy. I ain’t kissing you, cowpoke.”

“Just want me to fuck you, Mister Bell?”

“Now that ain’t nice, Morgan.”

“I’m gonna make it real nice.”

Now both of his hands gripped Micah's hips. In Arthur's voice, he could hear lust and urgency. Micah would not have allowed it so easily. Besides, his anger was still slowly turning into arousal. All that had happened because Arthur wanted to fuck him, and now there he was, touching him like a desperate man. It turned Micah on beyond belief.

“You was looking at me all this time, uh? Finally found the courage to admit it?”

“I’ve been wanting to teach you some manners for a while now. You’re gonna be real polite when I finish with you.”

Micah grabbed Arthur's collar and pulled him closer. Arthur let him, taking advantage of that move to sink his nails into the blond man's clothed hips and press himself against him.

Micah lost track of what he was going to say. He could feel Arthur's cock against his own.

"You ain't man enough for that."

Instead of kissing him, Arthur ran his thumb over Micah's lips. Without breaking eye contact, Micah welcomed the finger into his mouth and licked it slowly. Then Arthur offered him his index and middle fingers, and Micah licked them both greedily, taking them as deep as Arthur wanted.

Arthur was hard, harder than Micah. His eyes struggled to stay fully open. The man was under his control, literally hanging on his lips. Micah wanted to know how Arthur would react if he moaned as he sucked on his fingers.

Then Arthur pushed both fingers further in and Micah moaned. As a response, Arthur groaned and began rubbing himself against Micah. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and grabbed his jaw, still grinding against him.

“You gonna come in your pants, cowpoke?”

“Maybe if I come in your mouth you’ll shut up.”

“Not a chance.”

“In that case…”

Micah found himself bent over the wagon, Arthur behind him clutching his ass. He rested on his elbows and turned to look at Arthur. The man behind him had his lips curled forward, one hand on his crotch and one on Micah's ass.

When Arthur's thumb pressed down on his opening, Micah flinched away at the sudden sensation and then pushed back against the finger. A wave of arousal swept over him. He did not believe he was bent over in front of Arthur Morgan.

“If only I knew you were such a slut I would have fucked you earlier.”

“Careful. I ain’t forget about the bear.”

“Get out of these damn pants.”

“I ain’t even that horny yet. Do something about it.”

Arthur slapped his ass loudly and then slid his hand between his legs, slowly moving from his opening to his shaft, dwelling on that sensitive area just below his hole. Micah closed his eyes and moaned quietly, muffling that moan so Arthur wouldn't hear. But his reaction was well evident by how hard he had become after just a few seconds.

Arthur laughed mischievously and began stroking him over his clothes. Micah was still bent over in front of him, his legs slightly open to allow his hand to slip between his thighs. In the meantime, Arthur pulled his cock out of his pants and jerked with the same rhythm at which he was touching Micah.

Micah stood up, turned around, and took to unbuttoning his pants. Unlike Arthur, he lowered his pants completely. They jerked off looking at each other. Micah gave long quick strokes while Arthur went slower and focused on the tip.

Micah's head was empty. The anger was fully transformed into blind, greedy lust. When Arthur reached down and took both of their cocks in his hand, Micah closed his eyes and let his head fall back. The friction was painful but did not last long.

He felt Arthur's saliva dripping down on their tips. The sensation was so strong he had to hold onto the wagon. Micah began thrusting against Arthur, and their moans grew louder.

“How do you like it?” Arthur asked resting his head against Micah's forehead as he continued to stroke both of them, now slower.

“Fast and rough,” Micah replied in a throaty voice, his mouth open from pleasure.

“I knew it.”

Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss him and Micah didn't object, responding with the same urgency. They kissed until they had to break away to catch their breath. At which point Micah turned, bent over, and spread his legs.

Arthur's finger was still wet with saliva and he took to teasing Micah's opening. The index finger slipped in effortlessly. Micah was already open and ready for a second finger, but Arthur decided to make him suffer some more.

"Oh shit, Arthur-"

Micah moved against the finger but needed more, needed to feel the full pressure of Arthur's cock inside him. One finger was never going to be enough.

Arthur spat and saliva dripped down on Micah's ass, making it easier to insert the second finger. He finger-fucked him deeper and deeper, then picked up speed.

"You're taking it so well. Such a slut."

“Right your wrongs, Morgan.”

Arthur spat on his palm and lubed his cock with it, lined up against Micah’s opening, and started pushing himself in. The moans that came out of Micah's mouth would have been obscene if only he had not muffled them with his hand. They could not be heard and it was so hard to be silent.

Micah dropped his head on his folded arms and bit his hand to keep any moans from escaping. Behind him, Arthur was still pushing his full length into him. He held him firmly by the hips. Arthur was so hard inside him, so deep. And Micah was so tight and warm.

When Arthur was completely inside him, Micah began to move slowly. And Arthur lost his mind. He wanted to fuck Micah for a long time, to put him in his place, under him. He did not think it was possible to get any harder than this, but his cock proved him wrong. Micah noticed it too and chuckled but he soon stopped when Arthur began to fuck him hard and slow, nearly pulling out completely and then pushing in all the way to the base of the shaft.

He hit that sweet spot over and over, forcing Micah to grab his cock and stroke it to relieve all that build-up arousal. Arthur never thought it would be this thrilling. He could barely think.

Excitement took over as Arthur leaned over Micah and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him against his chest. His lips were pressed against the blond's ear.

Arthur's breath crept into Micah's ear sending waves of uncontainable pleasure down his back. He would not last long, he was so close. Micah began jerking faster.

"Fast and rough, huh?" Arthur whispered in his ear.

Arthur took to fucking him just as Micah likes, one hand holding him by the throat and the other on his hip. The sound of Micah's ass on his cock was loud. He was sure someone would hear them, but he didn't care.

“Look at me.”

Micah turned his head as far as he could and looked at him. Arthur was sweating, pushing himself into him with his mouth open, licking his lips from time to time. He looked like an animal. He was so horny. Soon Micah came profusely in his fist, grunting and watching Arthur fuck him. It wasn't long before Arthur came inside him in a painful thrust. He kept moving inside Micah until the wave of the orgasm had worn off.

Arthur leaned closer to Micah, his chest on the blond man's back. “Still mad at me?”, he chuckled against his ear.

“Who’s there?”

A voice came from ahead, chilling both of their spines. Fortunately, the chuck wagon covered them.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in Micah’s ear before lifting his head. “Just me. Everything’s fine, John.”

“You sure? I heard-”

“Move along,” this time Arthur shouted. Admittedly, he was worried John wouldn't listen. Hell, he was still buried inside Micah. And there was something thrilling about the possibility of being discovered.

"Alright, I'm going."

When they were both sure John had left, Arthur pulled out of Micah and adjusted himself. Micah pulled up his pants. Soon, they were both good to go. They looked at each other and found absolutely nothing to say. It was awkward. More for Arthur as Micah wasn't used to speaking at all after sex.

"So," Arthur started.

"Not a word. I know."

"No, it's... You know what? Yeah. Not a word."

"Bye now, Morgan."

As is often the case, the excitement of it all faded as quickly as it came. Micah found himself alone with his now-burnt figurine, as he had intended for the evening. He smiled at the new advantage he gained over Morgan. He was planning to use it, from time to time.

#morbell #micah bell #arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #smut #nsft #mdni #angst and smut #hate sex #if you read this only to comment your stupid ass opinion I'm just gonna delete the comment this time #nizzyfic

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trelaundry · 2 years

Note

could you possibly do some more micah x f! reader smut? and then maybe include arthur in there too? idk however you include him is up to you ❤️❤️❤️

hi anon! of course I'm always willing to pollute the airways with Micah smut, and with Arthur? oh this will be something alright. at least uhh I hope it will be? anyway I'm working on it ;))))

#rdr2 #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan #micah bell

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monsterbeetlebug · 8 months

Text

Never steal from Micah Bell

Fem reader

Tw: mentions of guns, violence, fire, blood, sexual tension.

Tilly came running into camp. She was full of panic. Eyes vide and out of breath. She started screaming that you had been kidnapped by a gang. They had been after all of you for some time. They managed to get their hands on you wanting to get info on where the Van der Linde gang was residing. Everyone dropped their stuff and came running to Tilly. Asking of everything she knew. Miss Grimshaw took her away to clean her up as the fellers started talking. Dutch, Hosea and Arthur was scrambling about to gather their stuff. They quickly turned around when they heard the sound of hoves racing away. They all stood frozen looking confused between each other as Micah raced away. He had never shown any interest or care to save anyone but himself. Micah rodes as fast as he could. Rage was fueling him. The reflection of the sunset was like flames in his eyes. There was no mercy to be shown. Nobody who steals from Micah Bell had a life ahead of them. His laugh erupted. He felt like he would go insane if anything happened to you. "Ain't no one stealin from me who gets to stay alive."

You were locked in a small shed. Left in the dark small room. They had roughed you up a bit trying to get you to speak. Your head hanging down as you focused on sounds outside. You had shot up as you heard an all too familiar laugh and yelling. Micah! The cold bastard actually cared enough about you to come and save you. "I'm going to burn this place to the ground! Time to meet with your maker boys!" His maniacal laughter came through as you heard glass breaking and shots fired. You could see the slight glow of fire from outside. There was screaming and gunshots all around.

Then suddenly, it fell silent. No talking. No footsteps. Only the crackling of fire growing. You feared the worst. Then, the door of the shed swung open. Your eyes widened, and relief filled you. There before you stood Micah. The glow and sparks from the fire wild behind him. The dark silhouette was disturbingly impressive. His eyes felt cold and dark. Blood was splattered across him. Luckily, it wasn't his own. You jolted up and ran towards him. You hugged yourself around his neck. He hugged back and patted you back. "You came for me, you cold bastard, you actually came." Micah let out a soft chuckle as you pulled apart. He looked at you with eyes that told more than his words. "Couldn't let them get away with stealing the only thing I care more for than my guns." You felt a tingling sensation go through you at his words. You hugged him tighter with your head under his chin. Smiling to yourself hearing those words. That evil asshole actually has some feelings beneath is vile exterior. Something he would never show to anyone else, especially not back at camp. He couldn't let them know he actually had a heart. He would never hear the end of it if they found out he was a human after all.

Micah grinned to himself feeling how close you held onto him. He held you just as thight back. Feeling relaxed knowing you where safe with him again. He slowly slid his hand down your back to place it on your butt. Softly squeezing. You felt a cribling inside. A warm feeling that was building. He placed a kiss on your head before he moved to kiss at your neck. He let out a hum of appreciation. Your breath got heavy as you closed your eyes. You could feel him grow harder against your stomach. He pulled away and placed a kiss on your forehead. A soft smirk visibleas he spoke. "C'mon, let's get you out of here, we'll finish this later doll."

He gave you a pat on your butt as he helped you up on his horse. Then suddenly you heard a stampede of hoves arriving. It was all the fellers from camp. Arriving just as you were about to leave this place. They saw you sat on top of Baylock like a trophy. All safe and content. Your cheeks stilled flushed red from Micah's actions. They looked at the burning camp behind you. Half the place was burned already, and things had begun falling down. Arthur looked angry at Micah. "What tha hell, Micah?! Was it really necessary to burn the place?" Micah led his horse towards them with a prideful saunter. His sleazy grin taking it's usual form. He leaned a bit back and put his hands out to his sides, exaggerating his words. "You're late to the show boys. Everything's dealt with, and I've saved our dear damsel in distress. But I didn't take you for a slow guy in a rescue Cowpoke, or should I say slowpoke instead?" Micah mocked Arthur as he passed by everyone. You couldn't help but find it funny. You tried your best to hide it so Arthur wouldn't get more upset than he already was.

Micah eventually hopped up behind you. Making sure you were sat close to him. You could feel his still hard member pressed up against your back. Making sure you could feel how much he craved you. As Baylock started trotting away and back home, he put a secure hand on your thigh. Stroking at your inner thigh. It made your warm tingle feel like a flame stared inside. Melting you closer to him. He needed to feel you to know you where there. That you where safe within his hand. He had a grin on his lips. With a rough but loving voice he spoke. "Let's get you home and taken care of princess."

#micah bell x reader #micah bell #Micah bell x femreader #rdr2 #rdr2 micah #rdr2 fluff #rdr2 smut #fluff #soft smut #short smut #x female reader #fem reader #x fem!reader #fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction

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grugruel · 4 months

Text

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr smut #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic

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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

Note

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way

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tempting-andromeda · 8 months

Text

Fuck it writing for rdr2 now

Nsfw headcanons

Warning: smut, knife play, somnophilia, power dynamic, spanking, hair pulling, bruises.

Characters

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy,Micah Bell, and Eagle Flies.

Arthur Morgan

He likes for sex to be intimate but he gets a rise out of things escalating. Like you two are in bed about to sleep but like 20 minutes later your legs are over his shoulders and he’s shushing you to stay quite.

He doesn’t force moments between you two he likes when it’s natural.

He laughs softly at you if you get too eager for him. He teases you and degrades you for it softly like “Really? This desperate for me? Guess I gotta give you a good time don’t I, Girl/boy.”

He likes to hear you talk during it even if it's just jumbled moans. He'll ask you questions like “That feel good?” and he likes a response but he doesn't force it (unless he's being rough then he'll stop moving and make you reply)

Sex is personal for him so he likes to make you feel good and sometimes he completely forgets about himself.

John Marston

He likes being in control but simultaneously he likes when you’re in control as well. He’s a complicated man.

He’s so fucking eager. Sometimes he forgets about foreplay but once he remembers he focuses on making you finish until you’re barely able to take him.

He’s real into dirty talk. He simply cannot shut up. He’s between your legs describing how you taste.

He has a high sex drive yet he cums quickly. He goes multiple rounds to make up for it though.

He’s so sensitive. He tries to pretend he’s not but after a while he starts begging you to bite his neck or use your mouth on him.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes a power dynamic. He likes being dominant and he doesn’t like that changing. If you try to top or be dominant he sees it as a challenge.

He’s into humiliating you but he doesn’t like bringing it out of the bedroom. He likes seeing you on your knees as he sits in a chair and he likes making you beg to suck him off.

He likes brats. He’s into the challenge and he likes making them submissive. It’s a huge thing for him if you act all bratty.

He likes to lightly smack you but doesn’t actually apply pressure unless he’s spanking you. Like if you back talk or something he grabs your face and uses a stern voice and after you say “yes sir” he lightly taps your face.

Really likes to stand back and admire you after he’s done with you. Looking at your panting frame and fucked out face. It makes him so proud. If he could he’d have a picture of it.

Charles Smith

He’s super into passionate slow sex. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he praises you but sometimes he can’t seem to hold himself back and he fucks like his life depends on it.

Like he’ll have your legs spread in a nearly humiliating way but he’s complimenting you the whole time, praising your very existence.

He likes when you wrap your legs around his waist. It makes him feel like you’re desperate for him as well and it drives him crazy.

He’s a munch. No doubt about it. Sometimes it’s the only thing he wants to do. He’ll lay in between your thighs like he’s starved.

Having sex with Charles is like experiencing a Hozier song first hand. At the end of every night with him you have absolutely no doubt he worships you.

Javier Escuella

He’s into knife play but he’s not entirely into drawing blood. He’s into cutting your clothes off of you. Like completely ignoring the buttons on your shirt and instead just running his blade along the buttons, snapping them off.

He’s real into hair pulling both ways. He likes fucking you from behind to pull your head back so he can kiss you and he likes when you pull his hair in missionary.

Possessive. No doubt about it. I feel it in my bones. He always asks you who you belong to before you cum and he gets a huge rise out of it. He makes your scream out his name at least once every time y’all have set.

He’s super into quickies. He likes to pull you away for a bit and absolutely destroy you and then go back to what you were doing and watch you struggle to pretend like nothing happened. It’s a huge turn on for himz

He likes to cum on you instead of in you. He’ll finish in your chest, back, stomach, face. He’s so into it. He likes knowing you’re a mess for him and you’re allowing him to do this to you.

Sean MacGuire

He’s huge on praise. He needs you to tell him he’s big and that no one makes you feel this way. It drives him crazy.

He’s super messy when he fucks. There’s something about it that makes him feel prideful that you’re a mess and he’s a mess.

He likes to humiliate you but in a different way from Dutch. Dutch does it for the power dynamic and he does it just because he likes the idea that he’s the only one allowed to do this to you.

He’s a head pusher but he always makes it up to you afterwards by making you pull his hair when he goes down on you.

He likes having sex in semi public places. It fills him with such adrenaline he’s trying to go again afterward.

Lenny Summers

Hes into handjobs. More than anything. If you put your hands in his pants he’s nearly crumbling that instant.

He likes when you go down on him randomly. Like he’s reading a book and suddenly he’s getting head or waking up to head? It’s so attractive to him.

He knows what you like and what you don’t like and his fingers are magical. Sometimes he tries to multitask and do something else while he fingers you but he ends up giving in and giving you all of his attention.

He’s real nervous at the idea of people catching you two so he just whispers a lot of praise in your ear. He feels horrible degrading you but he tries.

He moans at everything. Like if he goes down on you, he’s moaning the whole time. If he’s touching you he’s still moaning. It’s just attractive to know he’s doing something that arousing to you.

Kieran Duffy

He likes when you tell him what to do. He’s real clumsy most of the time and if you lead his hands and body and tell him what to do he’s determined not to fail.

His dirty talk is mostly him asking for reassurance like “am I doin’ good?” Or it’s just him worshiping you.

He whimpers and whines so easily it’s like he’s getting fucked. (Or he is) he gets real embarrassed afterwards but he doesn’t try to stop

He begs to touch you even if you’re not holding him back or telling him he can’t. His hands could even be on you and he’s begging to touch you.

He moans so loud when he cums. He always tries to cover his mouth to muffle it or he buried his face into you to prevent anyone from hearing.

Micah Bell

He’s rough. Real rough. A night with him probably ends with a few bruises and a sore body and he’s real smug about it too.

He likes watching you pleasure yourself. Sometimes he’ll touch himself as you do so and after you both finish he won’t touch you.

He loves edging you. Sometimes he pulls away right before your climax and wait for you to beg. Once he got up and nearly left just to see your reaction.

He likes shoving your face into the pillow as he fucks you from behind. It makes him feel dominant and like he’s in control.

His praise is really rare so he saves it for a special moment. He’ll have you hanging off the side of the bed as he bellows your back out and he makes sure you hear him when he speaks, grabbing you by the back of the neck just to whisper something like “look so pretty from back here, slut.”

Eagle Flies

Experimentalist to the core. He wants to try everything at least once. He thinks it’s a huge trust thing to experiment with intimacy.

He likes showing off his strength and stamina so he likes to lift you up to fuck you. He can last so many rounds too so by the end both of you are panting and tired.

He says “I love you” during sex. He feels so intimate to say it and he likes to make eye contact as he does it. He knows it’s cheesy but he likes to say “I love you” while he finishes

He likes to talk about your sexual fantasies and tries to recreate them as best as he can. He feels like he has to prove that he’s better than some fantasy and he never fails.

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allzelemonz · 6 months

Text

Dare: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader

(Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Javier Esquella)

Fictober Prompt: Day 17, Multi Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘man’, heavy masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: (have you ever been in a men’s locker room and things got a little weird), smut, background relationships, masturbation, hand jobs, kissing, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, facial, cum swallowing, Micah being an asshole, flirting, casual sex, everyone is gay but especially Bill Summary: Drunk Sean wanting to get off prompts a dare to jerk off and last longer than anyone else at the fire. Gay chaos of a sort ensues.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arthur nearly shrieks, his head turning away from a much drunker Sean.

“Oh, come on now, Englishman.” Sean giggles. “We’re all men here, ain’t no trouble at all, is it?”

His hand palms at the bulge in his pants. A bulge that has only now been noticed and has the rest of camp’s attention. Bill fixes his eyes for a few seconds before he looks away, shifting his legs nervously. You try to look almost anywhere else.

Sean grins. “Ya know what, fellas, I bet you I can get myself off ‘fore any a’ you.”

Micah scoffs. “We all heard yer whore goin’ off ‘bout how ya can’t last, cowpoke.”

Sean hisses, stilling his hand. “Fine, then I bet I can ‘least outlast a greasy arse of man like you.”

“What?” Javier grimaces. “You want us all to sit here with our dicks out?”

“Embarrassed, Mister Escuella?” Sean laughs, giving him wavy eyebrows.

“We’re not all gonna jerk off in front of each other.” You mutter. “That’s insane.”

Sean sits up, putting a falsely offended hand over his chest. “That ain’t fair, big man.” A grin grows over his face. “What if I dared all a’ ya?”

“A dare?” Charles mutters.

Sean proudly puts his hand over his bulge. “I dare each a ya ta last longer than the legend Sean MacGuire. An’ whoever lasts longest, I’ll give ya my share a’ the job.”

The men around the fire shuffle, some hiding their own erections, others simply uncomfortable. It’s just a handful of the young men here, sent out for a train job. Arthur stares into the fire, as does Charles, Bill glances all around as he tries not to look at anyone at all, Micah and Javier seem more insulted than anyone. A dare is an odd thing, often able to make a man do things he never would, stupid things at that. And one like this, as odd as it is, is almost a challenge to each one of your own masculinity. Everything about dicks is.

You assume that’s why it’s Micah that starts unfastening his pants first. “Fine.” He mutters.

And Javier follows, wordless. Then Bill, fumbling quickly. Sean flicks his eyes between the rest of you as he fishes himself out. You admit, confident in your manhood or not, a dare is a dare so you pull your dick out as well. Arthur grumbles something to himself, doing the same. Charles is the last, seemingly embarrassed and likely thankful that his complexion hides most of the heat in his cheeks unlike most of you.

“Alright.” Sean says proudly. “Everybody gives a good effort, whatever ya like, long as ya don’t stop. Huh?”

Nods follow, each man showing their nerves in little bits and averting their eyes as much as they can. Plenty of you have been naked in front of each other or just caught glimpses during a piss break, but it’s much odder with this context to see each other’s dicks in hand.

“Count a’ three then.” Sean grins. “One! Two…! Three!”

You lick your hand and wrap your fingers around yourself, focusing down on that sight as opposed to anyone else. You flick your wrist loosely, moving slow and trying to ignore how the shivers spread over you. If you were alone it wouldn’t be much stimulation, but knowing you’re surrounded by six other men makes it just a little more exciting.

When you chance a glance up you find shamelessly wandering eyes and slow strokes all around. Arthur’s face is flushed red as his eyes stare around, the most shame anyone has. Sean lets noise spill from him easily, his hand the first to move faster. He doesn’t last long past that, Micah laughing at him as he releases.

“Shit…” Sean sighs, staring down at the mess of his pants.

Some of the other men still, looking at the loser of the little competition.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” Sean says with a smile. “Winner gets my share a’ the job, remember?”

The slow strokes continue.

Sean looks around for a moment before you see a grin spread over his face as he tucks himself away. “‘a course, that don’t mean I can’t play favorites.”

“The hell’s that mean?” Bill mutters.

Sean stands, slowly making his way over to Micah. “Ain’t like ya need the money, do ya?”

Micah eyes the Irishman warrily, but makes no move to stop him from dropping to his knees. Sean shocks everyone around the fire when he takes Micah in his mouth. Micah hisses, moving his hand out of Sean’s way and into his tangled red hair. Bill gasps next to you, his eyes fixed on the sight. You look away, the thought of Sean’s share of money paying for a nicer saddle or something keeping you restrained. Micah caves, gripping Sean’s hair and fucking into his mouth until he releases.

Sean coughs and splutters, swallowing most of the cum before he can pull himself away. “Least…” Sean spits. “Least you ain’t winnin’, ya lousy arse. When’s the last time ya wash that little thing a’ yours anyway?”

Micah scowls at him, tucking himself away. “You wanna play rough, MacGuire, fine.”

It’s like a cloud of hated lust washes the sense from everyone, both Micah and Sean moving to a target they don’t want winning.

As Arthur glares at Micah, Sean smirks. “New rule, boys. Ya get picked by somebody that’s out, ya gotta let ‘em try fer at least a minute.”

“That’s stupid.” Arthur mutters, eyeing Micah as the blond smirks down at him.

“Only fair, Morgan.” Micah says. “I ain’t gonna be the only fool that got out on a technicality.”

Arthur grumbles, but doesn’t stop Micah from gripping him and stroking furiously. Your heart skips when Sean’s eyes meet yours and he takes a few steps forward.

“No hard feelings, big man, Bill said he’d buy me a drink.” Sean snickers as he drops to his knees in front of you.

You shudder when he touches you, your hot skin buzzing at his cool fingers. But before you can blink, his mouth has engulfed your entire length. Sean is far too good at this. He bobs his head and you will yourself not to give in for the minute he has.

Across the fire, Arthur shoves Micah away. “Ya had yer chance, sick bastard.”

Micah grunts, wiping his hand on his pants before turning to Bill and starting his process again. Bill moans at the touch, struggling not to buck up into Micah’s hand. You’ve lost track of Sean’s minute, but he wasn’t far behind Micah so you shove at his shoulder.

“Better luck next time.” You say, your voice shaking a bit as you replace your hand.

Sean grins up at you, whispering. “Hope ya win.”

Likely because he’s losing his promised drink with the way Bill is shutting under Micah’s touch. Just as Sean reaches Javier to tease, Bill releases with a gasp. Micah grins to himself but you catch it, you also notice how he doesn’t stop as Bill shakes but instead strokes him through it.

“Get Morgan.” He mutters.

Bill nods, sweat covering his face. Micah straightens himself and glances between you and Charles, opting for you after a few seconds.

“Sorry, cowpoke.” He mutters. “Just rather touch you than him.”

“Fuck off, Micah.” You say through gritted teeth.

Micah smiles at you as he sits down next to you, leaning close as his arm wraps around your waist and his hand closes on your dick. “That ain’t any way ta talk. I’m ‘bout ta get ya off, ain’t I?”

For as much of an ass as Micah is, he’s good at this. Your mind wanders, picturing all the times you’ve seen Micah by the fire cleaning his guns. His fingers wrapped around the barrel as he drags the cloth over the metal.

“Shit!” You gasp.

Micah’s hand feels better than Sean’s mouth did, fast and furious strokes making you have to stop yourself from squirming. A low groan from Javier takes him out as he fills Sean’s throat, the Irishman not pulling off like he did with Micah and choosing to swallow it all this time. Only a moment later, Arthur mutters a curse as he releases onto Bill’s face and dirties the man’s beard. He mumbles an apology as Bill grumbles about it, both of them blushing deeply.

“Alright, alright.” Sean says. “Let’s give our finalists a chance.”

Micah leans a little closer as he takes his hand back. “Win this, cowpoke.”

You shutter as his breath hits your neck.

Sean grins. “Hands away now, boys! Take a breather.”

Charles pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he eyes the group. You swallow thickly, still feeling all the heat from Sean and Micah’s attempts. Charles hasn’t even been touched once, he has the advantage.

“How should we do this, boys?” Sean asks, turning to the group of losers. “Let ‘em keep at it, help ‘em out?”

“This is stupid.” Arthur grumbles.

Bill is too occupied with trying to get the cum out of his beard to answer.

Javier is still catching his breath from his orgasm.

Micah shrugs.

“Fine.” Sean grins. “I’ll be the judge ‘ere. Javier an’ Bill.” He points to you. “Ya work on ‘em an’ Arthur an’ Micah get Charles.”

No one moves for a moment. You look over and share a sympathetic look with Charles.

Sean groans. “Come on, boys! Have a little fun… I’ll buy a round a’ drinks.”

It’s enough to get Bill at your side, Javier follows as Micah and Arthur go to Chalres.

“Alright, count a’ three.” Sean grins, rubbing his hands together like the schemy little shit he is. “One, two…three!”

Bill goes straight for your dick, wrapping his big hand around it and stroking almost as well as Micah. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on lasting. It becomes infinitely harder when Javier’s hand dips below Bill’s and finds your balls still tucked in your pants. He leans in close, whispering a mix of English and Spanish in your ear and you know well enough that every word is dirty even though you try to tune it out. You can hear Micah snickering in the distance and take it as a good sign, he’d be the type to laugh at Charles getting off and losing. Bill’s other hand wanders up your chest and squeezes at your pecs briefly before he winds it under your shirt and feels at your skin. Javier’s other hand finds your jaw and his fingers trail as he turns your head. Your eyes peek open in time to see him smirk, then he kisses you as his hand squeezes at your balls firmly.

With their hands all over you, you can’t hold it anymore. It’s like a burst. The waves hit you hard and you spasm as you cum over your pants. Bill strokes you through it, his other hand gentle as it settles on your waist. Javier muffles whatever odd little noises you would have made, trailing off in smaller kisses before he stops. You open your eyes to look at him and he kisses your cheek with a wink. The three of you look over at the competition. Micah is stroking furiously, as he did with the others he tried to sabotage while Arthur kisses Charles’s neck and a hand plays with his nipples under his open shirt. Charles won, he hasn’t cum yet.

“Damn it.” Bill grumbles, glancing at you. “Was hopin’ you’d win.”

“Your fault.” You reply, breath still not quite back in your lungs.

Bill blushes. “Sorry, got, uh, caught up…”

“‘s alright…” You slur, head spinning still.

Sean doesn’t say a word to stop anything, holding a finger to his lips to silence any of you from alerting them. It’s only fair. Charles holds strong, though he seems to enjoy it when Arthur kisses him properly as his hand grips the other’s hair and holds him in place. Micah, never one to like losing and still unaware of his sealed fate, takes Charles in his mouth. Javier has to clap a hand over his lips to keep a laugh from alerting them. All of you sit in shock, never expecting Micah to suck off a man he berates on a daily basis even for the sake of winning some silly competition.

Charles’s hips buck and Micah moans when his hair is gripped and his mouth is used. His hands do nothing to stop it, only wandering over Charles’s thighs as he’s used. It only takes a minute after that, Charles’s hips stutter and he holds Micah flush to him as he releases. Arthur continues to kiss him and Micah is held in place despite his squirming until Sean clears his throat.

“Ya won, boys.” He grins. “Unless ya wanna keep goin’.”

Micah shoves himself away, falling back on his ass as he spits and coughs. Charles watches him, smiling for a moment before pulling Arthur closer and continuing.

“Alright then…” Sean turns to you and your saboteurs. “Anybody else all cheeky now?”

Bill grumbles something, standing and going over to Micah. He grips the smaller man by his collar, yanking him to his feet and shoving him towards the little collection of tents.

Sean has his eyebrows raised when he turns back, but he grins. “I ain’t gonna lie, I seen them hidin’ in the trees a couple times.”

“So you made us all get each other off?” Javier smirks, his arm draping around your shoulders. “Lousy move, cabrón.”

“I didn’t make ya do a thing ya didn’t wanna.” Sean crosses his arms. “It ain’t my fault you boys all wanted ta fuck each other.”

You sigh, remembering to tuck yourself away and glancing over to the winning fools. They’re nowhere to be seen. “They sneak off?”

“Suppose they did.” Sean chuckles. “Filthy sods.”

Javier waits a beat before turning to you. “Seems like everyone else is having a good time tonight. You wanna?”

Before you can answer, Sean whines. “Ya gonna leave me out? I’m the one that got ya started!”

“You’re taking then.” Javier mutters.

Sean grins. “Happily.”

You shake your head, sighing. “Fine, I guess.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me, cariño.” Javier whispers, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

You hang your head, smiling softly. “Shut up, Escuella.”

He tugs at your arm as he stands, pulling you with him.

The fire light dies down over the course of the night. Faint, muffled moans and whimpers can be heard if you really listen, but it’s mostly that distinct sound of skin hitting skin that echoes well into the night. Some of you can’t walk in the morning, very much complicating the robbery and no one knows how you all are going to explain the failure to Dutch.

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