Arthur Morgan X Female Reader - Tumblr Posts

Coming Soon and Masterlist

AO3 LINK

2022 update - after a multi-year break, a new fic has been produced - going to be multi chapter too. 

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED. Comments and feedback always appreciated. 

Rules and guidelines have been moved to the end.

Masterlist

Mostly in order stories could take place in (when they relate), other than that in whatever order I feel like. Fics can also all be found on AO3.

Fics:

Arthur Morgan x f! Reader - WIP Multi Chapter -  “Silvery threads” - 2 parts so far. At least one more incoming. 

Part 1  

Part 2

Arthur Morgan x f! Reader - Multi Chapter -  “ Outlaws, all of them” - 3 parts (so far…the first thing I ever wrote)

Part 1  -  adventure, minor fluff

Part 2  - recovery, fluff and angst

Part 3  - someone’s gonna need saving… and lovin’.  NSFT, a layer cake of violence, light torture and angst, with fluff icing and sprinkles of smut. 

Arthur Morgan x f! Reader - Series - “Going steady”  - fun, fluff, and some revenge. These stories weren’t deliberately written as parts of one big one, but do work well together.

"Paired up" - Secret wife, protective Arthur, Fluffy fluff

"Pregnant, not dying” - Protective Arthur, bit of comedy, fluff

“There’s something about Mary” - Focuses Mary/Reader. Twin gender-neutral kids, more fluffy than angsty.

“We’re off on an O'Driscoll hunt” - Twin kids, kidnapping and rampaging. Revenge and fluff. Split into two parts due to length

Part 1

Part 2

Arthur Morgan x f! Reader  - Hosea’s daughter - fun and fluff

“So….Dad….“ - Guess who’s in a relationship with Hosea’s daughter! The fluffiest fluff.

"It’s not what it looks like” - An alternative take on being Hosea’s daughter. This time dad doesn’t approve, but you’ve never been one to listen to authority….. Comedy, angst, fluff.

Arthur Morgan x f! Reader  - Modern Arthur - fun and fluff

"Surely that’s enough photos now….” - Social media knows what it wants, and it’s more Arthur. Arthur would rather be in the gym. Also, Arthur is not a fan of some modern men… Fun, fluff but also protective Arthur and some catcalling/threats.

Arthur Morgan x f! or gender neutral Reader  - General Arthur fluff 

“Draw me like one of those french girls” - fluff and nudity.

“Esteem? Mine field is barren.” - Arthur x f reader oneshot, low self-esteem reader, super soft Arthur. The fluffiest fluff of them all.

“Not a fair fight” - Arthur x f reader, reader is Kieran’s sister, Arthur’s gonna have to work hard to win this girl over. Minor mentions of violence, mostly just fluff/general entertainment. Bashful Arthur.

“You’ve got to pick a pocket or two to get to Tahiti” - Oneshot, Father/kid relationship with Arthur and gender-neutral teenage reader, protective Arthur, fun and fluff 

“I understand, darlin’” - gender-neutral reader, reader is a mute that tries to confess their feelings to Arthur. Double-barrelled fluff.

“Oh brother where art thou, you dumbass” - Arthur x f reader, Featuring John and Abigail - sibling rivalry is alive, kicking, and very irritating to you and Abigail. Comedy and fluff.

“Language barrier” - Arthur x f reader, reader is a brit (like me!), they enjoy taking the piss out of each other’s accents. Fun and fluff.

“Placeholder” - Arthur x f reader, angst with a fluffy ending - Arthur meets up with Mary and reader overhears…

Arthur Morgan x f! Reader  - smut, smut and more smut.

“Two husbands are better than one” - NSFT, Arthur AND John

“Quick, hard, relief”  - NSFT, adventure and smut.

“Safe places and words” - NSFT, protective Arthur, kidnapping, violence, threats of sexual assault and smut (unrelated to/separate from mentions of assault).

“Safe places and words - Alternative version” - NSFT, edited copy of Safe places and words to remove any references to choking.

“Please, Sir, more” - NSFT, pure smut, little to no plot. Dom! Arthur, sub! reader, choking, light bondage, daddy kink.

“Please, Arthur, more” - NSFT, a more vanilla re-working of “Please, sir, more” with no choking, bondage or daddy kink. 

“Easy there girl” - NSFT, outlaws with benefits, bit of violence/arguing, mostly smut

Arthur Morgan, not x Reader

“10 measly dollars” - wasn’t a request, but an idea I had that I wanted to write. It’s not an x reader (my first one), as it describes the moment of Eliza and Isaac’s death. Some fluff at the start, and I have written a slightly fluffy ending (I couldn’t bring myself not to), but the middle is not a pleasant read; I aimed for tears here.

Micah Bell

“Rest is for the wicked” - Micah x f insomniac reader. Slight fluff. 

“She ain’t yours, cowpoke” - Micah x f reader, Micah gets jealous, bit of fluff, a little bit of smut right at the end

Kieran Duffy

“Nobody puts Kieran in the corner!” - Technically a Kieran x f reader,  though poor bugger doesn’t have any lines. Arthur and Mary-Beth feature at the beginning/end. John Wick/Deadpool vibes; canon re-write as Kieran didn’t deserve to die. Mostly violence, tiny bit of fluff.

HCs:

Modern Arthur

Drunk Arthur flirting with M reader

Van Der Linde gang and sexting

“You’re the best thing since Tahiti” - Dutch x oblivious reader

Rules/Guidelines I’ll update as I found out things I’m definitely not comfortable with/rubbish at/don’t enjoy.

Turns out I don’t particularly enjoy writing for a teen/child reader with Arthur as a father figure. I’ve you’ve got an idea you think I’d like, or be good at, go ahead and still send it, but I may reject it, sorry!

I don’t do anything romantic (and especially not smutty) with sub-18 readers for obvious reasons. Tbh, I try to keep the age of my readers unspecified, so I’m unlikely to do anything with an explicit age.

I like writing for Micah, but requests have to be able to fit with his character. Also, they aren’t very popular and take more effort so I have to be pretty invested in an idea to accept it.

I’ve realised I don’t find Modern reader or Arthur fics as fun to write, so am unlikely to accept an idea for one.

Send me requests for fics, headcanons, drabble, fluff, smut - whatever you fancy! The majority of my writing is 1.5-3k word fics.

Be as specific as you want, and probably mention if you want them light or NSFT ;)  

Unless you specify, I’m likely to do female reader (cause I am one), but will try to do gender neutral where the story allows it.

Throws Arthur Morgan x reader fluff fic at you

Reader gets recognized while the gang is staying near Rhodes by some estranged and very distant family member who knew her from before she fell in with the gang and is whisked off to their southern mansion (a location that's not actually in the game) as these family member try to "save her" from the gang Arthur has to go in and get her back.

"Go get your girl!"

It was supposed to be a simple shopping trip, it really was. That was until you had gotten recognized. You and the rest of the gang had only been around Rhodes for maybe 2 weeks and Dutch had already integrated himself into their problems as he was apparently known to do. You had only been with the gang a short while now, they saved you from some O'driscolls back in the mountains around the same time they had found Ms. Adler. With nowhere else to go and no family that would take you in you decided to stay with them. All of this is to say that Dutch had kindly asked the gang not to cause trouble and you were in no place to be disobeying that order.

Which is exactly how you found yourself in this situation. You had gotten recognized by some old family friends or maybe distant family? You couldn't really remember. They had only seen you once before your family moved out west to the mountains yet somehow they recognized you. And before you knew it you were being dragged away from Charles and Javier who had come with you as back up. All while this haughty woman had a death grip on your arm saying,

"What in God's name are you doing with people like that, that is simply no place for a lady such as yourself to be in! Now come with us!"

You probably could have easily kicked her away or asked Charles to do it for you but Dutch's reminder to "lay low" rang through your head so you decided to not make a scene, not here at least. You pleaded with your eyes for Javier and Charles to do the same and mouthed the words,

"I'll be fine"

before you were pulled into a carriage

Arthur sat peacefully in his tent, he had gotten back from a job earlier that day and decided to take you advice, that sweet voice of yours still echoed in his head

"Just take break Mr. Morgan, you deserve it"

And so he did just that, speaking of wasn't it about time for you to be getting back?

Charles and Javier had accompanied you to go shopping but that was over an hour ago at least, You should be back by now.

Arthur sat up, maybe he was just being paranoid, you could handle yourself. Plus Charles and Javier were with you and they were capable men. He would have felt much better if he was able to have gone with you, that way not only would he be able to make sure nothing happened but he would have been able to see that sweet smile and those wonder filled eyes as he drove you to town, that soft giggle as you pull him into the general store, and those sweet pleading eyes as you begged him to set aside a bit of the budget for some candies. He would have acted annoyed, pinching his brow and shaking his head before grumbling about how as long as you don't tell Ms. Grimshaw. But in reality he would had already decided he would buy you something special before you set foot on the store even if he had to use his own money. But that was neither here nor there, you had decided to go with Charles and Javier to let him rest which was...fine.

He pulled himself up from his bed and made his way into the center of camp.

"Anybody seen her since she lef' to go do the shoppin?" He asked to those sitting around the camp fire, he didn't need to specify who the 'her' was everyone knew it was you, he always seemed to be referring to you somehow.

"Naw they ain't back yet" Lenny chimes

"Hm ok then" he straightened up and scratched the scar his chin.

"Why ya worried or somethin Arthur" uncle said with a teasing tone.

"No" he grumbled in response

You two were not together in any sense of the word but the connection between you two was so strong and so caring that everyone at camp could see it. Except Arthur of course he remained frustratingly unaware as he was stuck in all his thoughts of you being "too good for him" and him being "a bad man". Just then the wagon pulled up, Arthur quickly identified both Charles and Javier but no you. Before he could ask, Mary Beth ran up

"Where's your company?" She asked clearly puzzled

They both seemed out of breath as they climbed down, the camp now starting to gather around

"She's been taken" Charles panted

Arthur felt his heart drop, "taken where? By who? O'driscolls?" He asked hurriedly, the panic started to seep in.

"No not O'driscolls" Javier said quickly "some rich bastards recognized her when she went into town, they pulled her away from us so fast we didn't even have time to react"

"How could you two let somethin this happen?" Arthur growled, sounding a bit more upset than he would have liked to "God damn it I knew I should have gone with" he trailed off, hands at his sides

"Hold on a minute" Karen interjected "how did she let herself get taken? I mean were these people threatenin her? Were they armed?"

"No and no" Charles confirmed "but she begged us not to make a scene and she said she'd be fine but you know how these things are-"

"What in god's name is going on here" the camps leader suddenly joined the conversation sounding exasperated as Hosea followed, they both noted the obvious lack of your presence.

"She's been taken to god knows where to do god knows what" Arthur growled before Dutch was filled in on the situation

"And none of this would have happened" Arthur continued "if you hadn't gotten so close with those lawmen and asked us not to cause any trouble, you know she only went with 'em to keep the nooses of of our necks" he was starting to clench his hand now, feeling his nails dig uncomfortably into his palms.

What if you were being hurt right now, or worse? He couldn't even bear the thought.

"Clam down Arthur" Hosea soothed "she doesn't seem to be in any immediate danger as of now, we'll get her back don't you worry"

But Arthur couldn't help it and peoples lack of apparent urgency was not helping his brimming rage. Yes in hindsight he was over reacting a bit, in all honesty these people clearly had no intention of hurting you but they could have plans to take you away somewhere he would never be able to see you again. Probably to somewhere more fitting for a lady like you than a camp full of outlaws, somewhere nice like you deserved, he imagined with a heavy heart. But Arthur was a selfish man when it came to you, he wouldn't let anyone else have you or take you away from him, no matter the destination. And it wasn't like it was Marston who had been taken or something damnit it was you! So lord forgive him if he seemed a bit more touchy than he normally would have.

"Oh yes Arthur we'll get your sweetheart back before you know it" Dutch teased earning chuckles from those around him

Arthur loves him like a father but sometimes he swore he could hit the man. He pulled his hat over his face though it did nothing to his the reddening tips of his ears.

"I'm going to get her now before any of you idiots try to do it and mess things up again" he stormed with his hands in the air off towards his horse.

"Ooooo Arthur wants to be the hero!" Karen teased batting her lashes before getting a slap on the arm from Tilly.

Arthur couldn't hide the blush creeping up his cheeks anymore. The fact the camp knew you were the one who had named the horse he had just jumped onto was not helping in any way.

"They headed towards the mansion down past the braithwaite place, thats as far as we tracked them" Charles said coming up beside Arthur "now hurry"

"Thank you Charles" Arthur murmured before a swift kick and a loud "hiyah!" sent him off. Karen's unmistakable cry's of "go get your girl Mr. Morgan!" Ringing through the evening air after him.

As he came up on the mansion he could only stare in awe at its size. He knew your family was somewhat well off but...wow. It forced him back to a now painful conversation he had had around the camp fire some weeks back.

....

"Just admit it O'discoll! You've got a thing for the lady!" Sean teased Kieran about his obvious feelings for Mary Beth.

"I- I do not!" He retorted, clearly regretting his previous excitement at being invited to drink with the rest of them

"Don't deny it that makes you look stupid" Arthur had added after a couple beers

"I wouldn't be talking Arthur..." John murmured before taking another swig

Arthur paused for just a moment before straightening up "The hell you talkin 'bout Marston?" he had spat back

"Come on Arthur don't play dumb" Javier laughed

"I am not-" he scowled

"Arthur I think it's obvious to just about everyone...except you" Lenny pointed at him

"Clearly! What is all this about" Arthur yelled back, starting to feel the heat creep up his cheeks

"The new girl!, it's been so obvious that you're sweet on her from the moment she stepped into camp" Sean boomed and Arthur had never wished more that he had left him there in Blackwater.

"Yeah from what I've heard" Micah slimy voice creeped up from behind him, Arthur had hoped he had left the fire by that point but clearly he intended to stick around, it made his skin crawl "you've always had a thing for those...high society types"

"Now what the hell is that supposed mean" Arthur whipped around to face him, frustration and embarrassment starting to boil over

"If you can't figure it out, I'm not telling" John said in a somewhat half hearted attempt to take the pressure off of Arthur.

....

'Stupid Micah' he thought to himself as he hitched his horse outside the grand entry way and made his way to the door

You say in probably the most lavish yet uncomfortable chair imaginable. You were surrounded by frivolous decor that only seemed to become more ridiculous the longer you stared. For the past 20 minutes you had been getting a lecture on how "your parent's death was no excuse for you to fall in with people like that" you couldn't help but roll your eyes. You didn't see these rich assholes gunning to take you in when your life had practically been turned upside down and now they thought they had the right to tell you how to live your life?

Just the thought made you want to hurl. You dig your fingers impossibly further into the chair's scratchy fabric.

"We think it might be best to send you somewhere back out east" the old prudes voice was clear and sharp yet you could barely hear her over the ringing in your ears.

What you wouldn't give to be back in camp right now. Surrounded by people whom actually cared for you. Back in camp with Arthur playing a game of poker or having him teach you how to shoot. Those strong hands of his always so gentle as he guided your hands to face the target. Anything but here.

Just then there was a loud knock on the front door. Hope filled your heart, you jumped up but before you could move another inch,

"You sit yourself back down now young lady, I'll check the door" the old hag said with a demeaning tone, excusing herself, giving a look to one of her servants to keep an eye on you so you didn't bolt, it wouldn't have been your first attempt. You decided to stay put and play the waiting game. She left to open the front door and though you couldn't see past the corner you heard everything.

"And who might you be?"

"Ma'am I- I heard that you might have a- a young lady staying with you at this particular time" your heart soared hearing Arthur's voice and you couldn't contain the small smile forming on your lips as you heard his attempt at "proper speech".

"And what concern would that be of yours" she bit back

"Well ya see, it would be greatly appreciated if you would allow me to speak to her for jus' a moment theres something I need to tell 'er" obviously sensing the woman's appreciation he continued "I- I don't mean no harm by it or nothin we'll stay right here on the porch"

"Stay here" the older woman quipped

You heard her steps approach the living room once more

"Young lady there is a very scary looking man here to see you" she stated, the look of disgust eminent on her face

You practically shot up from your seat and without another word, ran around the hallway before throwing open the front door.

You were just so relieved to see a friendly face and especially relieved it was the face of the man who brought you the most comfort anyone possibly could. Without thinking you threw yourself onto him.

Arthur stumbled back slightly, not due to the impact, he was plenty strong enough to handle that, but from surprise that you were clinging to him in the first place.

"Oh god Arthur you have no idea how happy I am to see you"

"Likewise" he smiled, awkwardly steadying himself and settling on letting his arms awkwardly pat your back. Though this moment of triumph was soon interrupted by a sharp "ahem" of the adjacent doorway.

Arthur awkwardly, yet incredibly gently pushed you away.

"Would you mind explaining this" the old woman questioned, gesturing to the both of you.

Your mind raced, based on their previous dialogue Arthur clearly had no plan of how to get out of here (that didn't involve shooting someone) so you had to think fast and your mind settled on the first believable thing you were sure she would buy.

"This is- um my...my husband! Arthur Callahan" you said quickly.

He turned to look at you with a confused expression to which you discreetly slapped his leg in an attempt to get him to play along. He got the message.

"Yes, I am an er...oil tycoon who was up 'round these parts on important business"

"Are you really now?" She said looking less than convinced "And who were those rough looking men?"

"They were... employees of Arthur's!" You quickly lied, god this was not going well but she seemed to start to buy it as you spent the next couple minutes answering her scores of questions.

"Yes I had them accompany her while she was out shopping and I was meeting with some... local officials" he had his hands awkwardly clasped in front of him as he rocked back and forth slightly. What could have gotten him so shaken up? I mean this whole situation was less than ideal but he was an outlaw, used to lying and cheating his way out of things, why was this time any different?

"And actually we need to catch a train in..." you felt around for a nonexistent pocket watch

Arthur picked up your slack and pulled out his "look at the time! 10 minutes we best be going!"

"Alright just stay out of trouble you hear!" She called, clearly glad to have you out of her hair and as far as she knew, not soiling her reputation.

You quickly made your way to Arthur's horse, "Married? really?" he questioned as he helped you onto his horse. "I mean if ya wanted to cook for me or somethin ya coulda just asked" he joked in an attempt to deflect his embarrassment that would have been clear to anybody except you.

"It was all I could think of!" You said exasperatedly throwing your hands up, he couldn't help but smile at how you had slowly and subconsciously began to imitate his mannerisms.

"Let's just get ya back to camp"

After a long but comfortable silence on the way back to Clemen's point you looked down at your hands,

"Thank you, thank you Arthur" you started "you're real sweet comin to get me like that, I don't know what I would have done without you. You gotta be...well... the best man I know" you chuckled

That would do it for him

his heart fluttered a bit , He coughed and quickly recovered "I know the company you keep little lady the competition ain't too fierce" he laughed pulling his hat down to hide his face

"Oh hush now" your chuckled, tentatively leaning your head to rest against his back

That settled it alright, he wasn't letting anybody take you from him ever again

Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader

Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)

summary: Arthur wonders why you, the most touchy person who doesn't mind hugging and being close to everyone in the gang, avoids him. Then you catch him alone one night and he finds solace in your closeness.

warning: Mentioning of Micah's abuse, it's platonic now but maybe second part for some lover action if y'all want?

2400 words, about 10-13 minutes reading time

Arthur didn't understand how you could be so open, giggly, and affectionate with anyone in the gang but him. Your willingness to engage in physical touch made no difference of man, woman or child. He had started to observe your interactions with others more closely, ever since he had found out that they gave him a bitter feeling of jealousy. You held hands with the girls, play-wrestled with Jack, leaned into Hosea's hugs at the cam-fire or happily jumped on Sean's back for some piggyback rides. Even when talking to someone, you'd stand unusually close, a hand on the arm of whoever you were conversing with.

Everyone came to you with their problems, because they knew they could expect hugs or soft caressing. Your role as source of comfort and support within the gang was truly valued, but you weren't stupid or overly naive when it came to intimacy. When you found it not appreciated or uncomfortable, you'd soon let it be. After Micah had joined the gang, Arthur had kept a close eye on how you proceeded around him. For a couple of weeks, until he had settled in, you had kept your distance before approaching him. Arthur almost boiled when he saw how gently you rested your hand on his arm and he almost intervened when he saw Micah's prudish reaction of pulling you closer, groping you and asking if you were the camp's whore. After this encounter with Micah, you wisely chose to keep your distance.

Arthur wondered if he had done something wrong, but he coulnd’t remember any occasion where he would have abused your trust. You had been closer to him before, but it seemed a long time ago. You'd lean into him during story times or greet him with a hug after coming back from a big score…but eventually, it had stopped. Had he given an unintentional signal that he didn't want to be touched?

Those were Arthur’s thoughts as he sat opposite of you at the campfire. You were seated on the log which Javier used as backrest. You sat exactly behind him, your arm and head resting on his shoulder. Sometimes, Javier would snuggle his cheek against your arm. A lover's touch, Arthur thought. He wondered about certain situations that felt needlessly…loving. Keeping in mind that you weren't as restrained and conservative when it came to touches, he thought that some people tended to abuse that. Dutch, especially. You'd sit on his lap and while Arthur was sure your thoughts were naive and you'd just figured out that Dutch likes the attention and you saw nothing more behind it than similar physical intimacy you granted the others, Arthur was convinced that Dutch's thoughts weren't as pure. It was he who had picked you up from a saloon one day, praising your carefree and happy character, warning everyone to respect you. But when he pulled you onto his lap, Arthur swore it was a patronizing move with afterthoughts. Not that he thought either one of you would act upon it.

But it riled Arthur. You'd hold Lenny's hand when he had a bad day and even massage Uncle's back if he asked kindly enough…but Arthur had been ignored for a while now. Arthur had been starring at you and Javier, at your arm that rested so comfortably on him, but as Arthur's eyes wandered up with the intent of studying your face, he found you staring back at him. Slowly, you receded your arm and sat up straight, no longer in contact with the man in front of you. Arthur felt like you had caught him daydreaming. Then you nodded towards the outer rims of camp, standing up and signalling Arthur to follow. He waited a few moments and gave you a head start, before following you into the darkness, away from the group and the campfire.

Arthur had soon caught up with you, as you headed straight for the little patch of wood.

"What're ya up to?", he asked, watching you curiously as you made your way through the forest.

"Nothing specifically, will you join me for a walk though?", you invited with a kind smile.

"Sure. Ain't exactly safe to wander away from camp in the middle of the night", Arthur commented and stomped through the dry leaves on the ground, right at your side.

"How have you been recently?", you asked, your eyes trying to catch his.

"Jus' fine."

"Mh, don't you lie to me, Mr. Morgan. I can tell you have something on your mind."

"Yer that good at reading people?", Arthur said surprised.

You giggled: "Not particularly. But you always have something on your mind, so that wasn't a far-reaching guess."

"Suppose not", Arthur chuckled warmly.

"So?"

Arthur shrugged and caringly extended his arm for you to hold onto, as you climbed over a fallen dead tree. For a moment, he was very focused on your warm and soft hand that had a tight grip on his arm as you tried not to lose balance. Though as soon as the obstacle had been crossed, your touched ceased from his arm, only its memory remained a while longer.

"I don't like 'round here. The way we are foolin' with both of 'em families. I don't think it'll work out,” Arthur said truthfully, "Besides, I don't like the stifling weather."

"I understand", you answered. You never argued when someone was confiding in you, neither did you come up with solutions, if not requested. But you listened, and this was enough.

By now, you had crossed the woods and had reached the meadow with some old ruins of houses and fences. You strolled towards a wall barely higher than a log and watched as Arthur sat down on it. You stood in front of him, carefully inching closer between his legs. Then you reached out and fixed his collar: "Has been annoying me all night..."

Arthur blushed profusely at this domestic gesture, but you barely noticed as you sat down next to him.

"You saw Mary Linton back in Valentine, didn't you?"

"I did", Arthur admitted briefly.

"So tell me more! I bet it's been on your mind", you said.

"I don't know,” Arthur sighed, “I think I miss what we had, but I'm no idiot. It didn't work before, and it wouldn't work now… Maybe I am an idiot, 'cause I keep entertaining those thoughts."

"Why wouldn't it work?"

"Ain't the best time to go off and stay away from camp. There's always something happening, I'd feel like a fool if I pursued her. Besides, her daddy never liked me and that for sure didn't change."

"What would make you happy, though?", you asked and looked at him. Arthur looked you in the eye.

"I think I just miss having a woman by my side. Marston is a damn fool to behave so cold around Abigail and little Jack,” Arthur complained. His gaze wandered off in the distance, searching for a landmark to focus on.

"He'll come around eventually", you smiled, knowing a lot more about John's situation after he had confided in you only a few weeks prior.

"I hope. I just want him to do right by her and the boy,” Arthur said.

"There it is,” you smiled and bumped your legs into his, "big, bad outlaw – lovingly caring for his friend’s wife and kid."

"Yer a damn tease, don't know how they all flock to you talking about their problems", Arthur quipped, now bumping his shoulder into yours. To his surprise, you stayed leaned against it, sighing happily and watching as he lit himself a cigarette.

Suddenly, your hand now rested on his arm, very lovingly and gently.

"All of a sudden, huh?", Arthur commented.

"All of a sudden what?"

"The touchin' and listenin' and stuff. Thought you'd keep ignoring me."

"What? Ignoring you? I'm sorry if I gave you this impression...I thought you didn't like that with other people around."

Your hand had disappeared from his arm, which pained Arthur.

You were right, of course you were. Arthur wasn't too big of a fan of showing that he needed loving attention as much as anyone, but you had figured it out. And now he realised why you had stopped, because you always felt him tensing up, shutting down and avoiding your gaze when you initiated some intimacy.

"Oh", Arthur mouthed. Now he took your hand and placed it on his thigh, squeezing it lightly, "I'm a moron, Miss y/n. I didn't realize you had picked up on that."

You smiled, satisfied that you'd been right, and leaned your head against his shoulder.

"I feared I had said something improper to scare you away", Arthur admitted in a quiet voice.

Of course not, you thought, if anyone in the gang was as gentle, pure and seemes the revel in those little touches, it was Arthur. And it was rewarding to see him soak up those little attentions like a sponge.

"Then you're right about being a fool. You haven't done anything wrong, Arthur", you said and squeezed his hand to emphasize those words. Hearing his first name roll from your lips had something very comforting. Arthur felt right at home, though he was sitting in a field.

"Yer a good person", Arthur said, "I'm damn sure you're the person holding this gang together. We'd have crumbled if it wasn't for you."

"You're giving me too much credit. You work way harder to keep us on track", you admitted and snuggled your face on his shoulder. Your thumb was slowly stroking his arm, Arthur watched shyly how the finger disturbed the hair that was growing on his forearm.

He had forgotten how much he needed that.

You heard the shaky breath the man next to you took.

"'s it dumb that I enjoy that?"

"No. Not at all", you honestly answered.

"What's the most ridiculous thing you've ever done for one of the fellers?", Arthur asked, feeling slightly embarrassed about asking you fir something, even though all it would have been is if he ciuld wrap an arm around you. After all, you had initiated all touch.

"Mh, well Micah-"

"No that", Arthur scoffed, "Could have beaten this rats head in when he called you names, but i felt like you could handle the situation."

"Yes, I had", you said, squeezing his arm.

"I meant more like...did any of the man ever request something funny?"

You giggled: "Oh, you'd be surprised. But I won't tell you. Their secrets are as save with me as yours would, so don't feel bad about asking. I've heard that I give brilliant head-massages."

"That so?", Arthur said.

But he kindly refused the offer to lie his head in your lap, but when he offered this service in return, he was surprised when you readily agreed. "Thought you'd never ask!"

With your head resting on his thigh and looking up into the night sky, you could feel his muscles flex and tense under the weight of your head. Arthur took a while until he relaxed, even longer until he leisurely started to play with strands of your hair. He was very gentle, barely daring to touch your head and only letting s few strands of hair running through his fingers.

Arthur closed his eyes and could imagine things that he normally would never let himself indulge in. A family, a cabin out west, a wife and a kid. Boy or girl or both, it didn't matter. A time where he didn't have to worry about the law chasing him down. Maybe, also a dog.

Lost in thoughts and thinking about what could have been, Arthur lost sense of time. It was your voice that brought him back to reality after a while.

"Arthur, dear? I'm getting a little tired. Could we head back?", your voice was soft and whispery. It didn't quite shake him up from his dreams. It's as if his wife called him back inside. But of course, you weren't his wife. And there was no "inside", only back to camp, back to the others.

"Of course, sorry. I didn't want to keep ya from sleepin'", Arthur apologized and waited until you had risen, before standing up himself with a stifled groan.

"I enjoyed this a lot, you know", you admitted. Even though neither of you had spoken, you felt like you had been part of Arthur's imaginations. And maybe found some solace in the same little dreams that he had.

"Me too. Thank you", Arthur said, and still was surprised when you hugged him gently. He hesitated for a moment, before putting his hand in the small of your back. Arthur felt good. It was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a while. Having confided in you, the intimacy…there was this warm sensation in his chest. It had been a energizing experience, to say the least, dreaming without being judged.

You walked back with your arm intertwined with Arthur's. So not to "trip" on branches in the darkness, but also because it felt right. Arthur didn't dare to ask if that could become a regular thing. You only said good night when you had reached camp and he watched as you walked off to your bedroll.

Something had changed though, because the hugs after coming back from a long day of robbing and killing came back. Suddenly, when you handed him a plate of stew, your fingers would briefly touch. Whenever you found the opportunity, and Arthur gave you plenty, you fixed his collar or suspenders. With time, he lost the hesitation and would pull you closer when you were busy with dusting off his shirt.

Yet, you were occupied most of the nights. Arthur would see you at the jetty, talking with Lenny or deep in concentration while playing a game of Dominoes with Bill. You’d help Kieran with the horses and most of all, you’d always take time for Jack. It was you that put Jack to bed most nights, Abigail exchanged a few words with Arthur one morning on what a great help you’d been. From this point onwards, Arthur loved watching from a distance when you interacted with Jack. Slowly, an idea started to form. Maybe, if he worked up the courage, he could ask you to spend a night or two away from camp. Take Jack with them, as a kind gesture towards Abigail and to give the boy some distraction from his daily life in camp. Hell, you spent more time with him than John did anyways, and Arthur doubted that Abigail would have trouble entrusting you with him for a few nights. But it involved asking you…out, sort of. It wasn’t such a selfless action, though Jack would benefit, Arthur craved some time with you alone. And Arthur wasn’t sure if asking for this was overstepping a line.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Second part with Arthur taking out reader and Jack? Anyone interested? Wanna be tagged?

Second Part here!

🪶💚☁️ About Me ☁️💚🪶

Hi, my name is Kit. My pronouns are she/they. I'm old enough to drive, have a job, and all that jazz. I like cats, reading, flowers, and the colour green. I haven't written anything so far because I have like no motivation lmao but I'll probably get around to it eventually.

🪶💚☁️💚🪶

Stuff I'm comfortable with writing (kinks, tropes, etc): pretty much anything. just ask if you're not sure. I can do dark stuff

Stuff I'm not comfortable with writing: scat, vomit, etc., character x character (unless it's a threesome maybe??? I just don't know how to write it), pedophilia, but ddlg is okay (i am not like ickybatz), uhhh I think that's kind of all

Characters I write for: Sam Winchester, Kylo Ren (he'd be hella ooc though) Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker (he would be too tbh), Rodrick Heffley, Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Sean MacGuire, Patrick Bateman, Patrick Hockstetter, Eddie Munson, and Fang tbh (from Maximum Ride because I LOVE that series)

I think that's pretty much all I have. Peace out girl scout 🫶🏻✌🏻

🪶💚☁️💚🪶

chat important question

thank you all for your participation, i will put this information to good use once i get motivation

chat important question

lowkey want john marston and arthur morgan to tagteam me. even if john is musty and hasn't bathed in months idc i need either his or arthur's fat cock inside of me

i nutted in my pants reading this on the bus

Boisterous

Summary: Arthur takes you to The Loft. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 2,095 Warnings: 18+ MDNI Tags: rough sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, biting

a/n: I somehow ended up spending literal hours trying to perfect this drawing. I traced a lot and freehanded a lot too, but overall, I'm happy with the final product. TYSM for taking the time to read, like, reply, and reblog; I appreciate every interaction!

Boisterous: behavior that is loud, energetic, and often unruly. It describes a person or situation that is full of noisy enthusiasm.

When Arthur found "The Loft" two nights ago, he was grateful to sleep in a bed surrounded by four sturdy walls. The accommodation would've been perfect, but you were missing from it all. Lewd images of your past escapades together infiltrated his mind as he tried to sleep, and he made his best efforts to push them aside. Your pretty face lit up his brain, and he wrapped his hand around his cock, trying his best to imitate the ecstasy only you could make him feel. No grip was as delectable as yours, though, and despite a quick release, he was more pent-up than ever. He needed you there with him and planned to sweep you up and bring you back as soon as the sun rose.

The cowboy's sonorous voice roused you from your dreams about him, the early morning sun casting a golden glow on his face as he leaned over you. His beard had grown since the few days you'd last seen him.

"Get dressed. M'taking you somewhere."

Without a second thought, you joined him on the back of his horse within the hour. Arthur spared the details of this urgent impromptu trip, keeping you in suspense for the duration of the ride.

In a few hours, you'd passed through Valentine, went by Fort Wallace, and climbed up into the mountains of the Grizzlies East. As you rode on, the clouds grew thick and gray, and the smell of petrichor filled your nostrils. Arthur caressed a hand you had wrapped around his waist, reassuring you.

"Almost there."

But you weren't close enough; the atmosphere released a torrential downpour in the last fifteen minutes of your journey, leaving you drenched. A little after noon, you reached a towering outpost that Arthur coined, The Loft. Arthur ushered you inside, futilely shielding you from the rain and promising the heat of a fireplace as he closed the door behind you.

While you stood, rubbing your arms for warmth, Arthur checked for signs of other people, climbing a ladder and peaking over the top for a second before sliding down.

You two were all alone, finally.

When he got a good look at you, he realized just how soaked you were, the layers of your clothes sticking to you and showing every curve of your body. Arthur swallowed, mouth salivating from the view of your hard nipples peeking through your blouse.

All the blood left his head and traveled south, damn near making him dizzy. Maybe he should've been embarrassed, but he was just a man, and you were the most alluring thing ever.

Two large steps were all it took to get to you. One hand found the back of your head, and the other rested on your hip as he drew your lips to his, practically swallowing you in a scalding kiss.

You could feel the groan rumbling in his chest, and you giggled against his lips. The noise crescendoed as his lips separated from yours to find your jaw and neck. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your scent while the hand on the back of your head traveled to the small of your back.

"Mmm," he hummed, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. "I missed y'so much."

And he had you all alone, truly alone, for the first time in your relationship. He'd been waiting to make love to you the way he really wanted. Your previous rendezvous were hushed, whispered, and sneaky, your moans muffled by Arthur's lips or hand. Even when he whisked you away to a hotel, he was keenly aware of everybody else around who could hear the two of you. Turning you into a whimpering mess filled him with fervent pride, but he wanted those parts of you, especially the sounds you made, all to himself.

The thought of finally hearing all those pretty little noises at full volume was enough to rile him up, and his hand groped your breast, kneading with a force he hadn't used on you before. You shivered against him; some of it was from your arousal, but the other part was the cold.

"The fire, Arthur," you said, shoving him off playfully. Grunting, he tore away from you, grateful for a log near the stove.

While his back was turned, you peeled the wet clothes off your body and dropped your blouse on the floor. Arthur spun back around right as you stepped out of your skirt, leaving you clad in your bloomers and nothing else. His breath hitched in his throat as if it were the first time your body had been bestowed upon him.

"Straight outta my dreams," he declared, his blue eyes shining with pure avidity. And just like that, Arthur strode across the room, dragging a chair with him and putting it against the door nob, just in case. You were back in his arms in an instant, his kisses emphasized with unadulterated sounds of pleasure. A rough hand slid into the waistband of your bloomers and grabbed a fistful of your ass, squeezing, letting go, and repeating.

You sigh breathlessly as he feels you up, leaning into his touch. Then without warning, he tastes you hungrily, tongue fucking your mouth.

His chest vibrates with titillation again, and you're hoisted up into his arms just a beat later, his hands cupping your rear. You squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding on tight as he carries you across the room and dumps you on blue cotton blankets. Breathing heavily, you watch under eyes saturated with desire as he promptly removes his own damp clothes.

You were just as taken aback by his body as he was with yours. Brown curls adorned his chest and stomach and gathered in a carnal wreath around his manhood. Touching him was like running your hands over a textured map: his scars, old and new, like rivers and valleys, while his muscles, firm and hot, were mountains and volcanoes. You could spend eternity exploring that map. Arthur would never get used to you ogling him in such a way, but now your hungry eyes lured him to you.

He climbed on top of you, pinning you under his weight. Usually, he'd ask if you were okay, but you answered the question before he'd even asked by tangling your legs around his waist and crossing your ankles to bring him closer.

His hard-on brushed against your leg, making him shudder. You helped him remove the last garment of clothes between the two of you, lifting your hips to help him pull the bloomers down your legs and off your feet.

Arthur normally took his time meticulously exploring you, leaving kisses in his wake, but damn it, the thought of the sweet grip of your pussy had been on his mind for days, and he needed it now.

His forehead leaned against yours, and he clutched your jaw, holding your face still to gawk at it. If someone saw him this way, they'd think he'd just completed a full sprint, every exhale coming out in a loud pant. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, turning him animalistic. He couldn't wait any longer.

The gunslinger dipped his head to look between you, a guttural utterance escaping him as you spread your legs, exposing your needy cunt. He held his cock, nearly discolored from being so hard, and rubbed it up and down your center, coating himself in your juices.

"Need you, woman," he bellows. The bass in his voice sends goosebumps spreading down your arms, and you nod, mouth agape, eyes staring into his. His jaw also hinges as he watches himself disappear inside you. Once wholly sheathed, he moans long and loud, a stark contrast to his regular subduedness.

You'd never seen him like this, so desperate and uninhibited. Your body responds to the unexpected but welcomed change, your pussy clenching around him, making both of you jolt. Holding himself up on his forearms, he rocks his hips into you at a steady pace, leaning down to kiss your neck.

Shy and coy Arthur had left the building, replaced by wolfish Arthur, willing to howl and snarl for what he wanted. And in the moment, he wanted to brand you with his mouth. Bruising you was defacing a masterpiece, but it was a crime he was happy to commit. He was an outlaw, after all. He nipped at your neck with his teeth, leaving a mark before moving on to another spot to do the same.

You cried out, the first orgasm of the night building within you. He knew your body well and adjusted to give you what you needed, straightening his back, digging his thumbs into your ribs, and pistoning in and out, his hand going to rub your clit. Head tipped back, he moaned, no, roared, with every thrust.

You knew this was rare: Arthur Morgan losing complete control of himself. He was lost in you, lost in your wetness, lost in your tightness, and lost in those sounds. His head snapped down, and he stared right through you, eyes wild.

"Let me hear you," he demanded, slowing his strokes to get your attention. Head spinning, you gasped, too cock drunk to pay attention to what he was saying.

Grumbling, he pulled out of you to switch positions, now standing on the side of the bed. He guided you back to him, aligning your backside with his crotch. He hugged you to his chest, your back pressed into him. Your hands instantly went to his forearm, holding onto him as he practically held you in the air.

"I said let me hear you," he growled in your ear, accenting each word of his demand with an electrifying pulse of his hips. You arched your back into him, his name coming off your lips like thunder.

"That's it, darlin’."

Perverse sounds of wet skin slapping together and boisterous cries filled the cabin.

You were starting to see stars, your vision blurring as you focused on the pressure building in your insides, wanting so desperately for it to boil over. Your toes dug into the buckskin rug at your feet, trying to keep the rest of your body upright.

Arthur was a machine, pounding into you with the goal of bringing both of you to the edge. He didn't relent—didn't show any mercy for the mess you'd become under him. It was overstimulating in the best way possible.

You just needed a second, just one, to get your barrings. Attempting to scoot forward for that break was futile. Arthur moved with you, his length plunging deeper than ever.

"C'mere," he growled as his cock grazed against that sweet spot in the depths of your core, making you holler out and lose the little balance you had left. It didn't matter, though; he held you taught against him, pinning your body between him and the bed. Keeping one arm wrapped around you, the other touched you right where you craved.

"Now," he groaned into your ear, fingers circling your clit antagonizingly slow. A chuckle exited him as you melted to his touch. "Want you to come undone right here. Can you do that for me?"

Droplets of sweat fell from his head onto your back, and you moaned out, "Y-yes, Arthur."

You didn't take long then; a wave of warmth crashed over you as your velvet walls contracted around him, making the man curse into the now-hot cabin air. His hips kept their steady rhythm as you came, Arthur chasing his own climax now.

"Good girl, good girl, good girl," He moaned with every thrust as you clenched around him. He folded himself in half, once again putting his full weight on you, his heart pounding against your back like a drum. More erratic now, his rhythm lost its steady cadence as his balls tightened, his orgasm coursing through his veins.

He pulled out of you, one hand still gripping your side as the other one pumped furiously at his cock. Moaning, whimpering, and whining, Arthur threw his head back as hot spurts of his lust splattered across your back.

Hand falling from your hip, his breath slowed as clarity flowed back into his eyes. Using his discarded bandana, he wiped his sins away from your back before gently rolling you over. He scratched the back of his neck, a sly grin making home on his face as he watched you splayed out and spent. Arthur had gotten everything he'd ever wanted: a bed, four walls, and you.

Catch a Ride to Heaven ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

Kinktober Day IV: Virginity

summary: rebellious reader is a sinner for her cowboy tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, virginity loss, p in v, praise, fingering, religious symbolism, cherry popping, midhonor!arthur, smoking, dom!arthur, sub!reader, rough sex, a bit of degradation, pet names, author attempts at accents wc: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

“Ma’am”

You looked up from your bible sitting on your lap, noticing a rather large man standing before you. His shoulder-length brown hair cascades down, framing his rugged features and intense blue eyes. A short beard adorns his handsome face, emphasizing the scar on his chin. Despite his rugged appearance, his smile reveals straight white teeth, complementing his sun-kissed skin with charming freckles. His well-worn cowboy hat had seen better days, colored black with a weathered rope tied around the middle and what looked to be claw marks running down the sides.

“Good morning, mister,” you answered, fiddling with the cross around your neck, trying to tame the sinful thoughts running through your mind. You had come to notice this man from afar. He would stop by your little town now and again, whether that was to buy guns or sell a suspicious amount of items at the fence nearby. Your eyes always followed him. You couldn't help it, although you tried to pray the feelings away many times. God never answered your prayers.

Your daddy was the local pastor. He was always smiling and friendly, claiming he prayed for every person he came across. He was a good man, always going out of his way to serve others. It seemed God had given him the gift of spreading his love all over, yet it seemed to run out when it came to you.

Your daddy had always been hard on you after your mama passed. Your brain was too young to remember much of her, but you could still remember the sound of her voice in your ears and the soft, comforting scent of her clothes.

Daddy said it was because he loved you; he was so strict, which you never really understood. Anytime you made a mistake or a mishap, Daddy would sharpen you back into shape, sometimes going to extreme measures. The bruises on your behind still stung when you sat down.

He never permitted you to be alone around other men, claiming you had to stay pure in the eyes of God or else you'd burn in hell for all eternity for spreading your legs for no-goods. He said men only wanted one thing, but he never specified what. It didn't take you long to figure it out. You were a smart girl. At least, that's what everybody said.

You didn't feel smart now as Daddy’s teachings drifted from the back of your mind like a cloud of smoke, thoughts of purity and maidenhood be damned. God knows you tried to resist them, and you really did. To push those thoughts aside, burn them, shut them out as much as you could.

But wouldn't he have answered your prayers if God were all-loving? Heaven knows you wanted to be a good girl. You did, truly! But there was something about this man that had your body growing warm, his deep southern drawl reaching into deep parts of you you never even knew existed. He had your voice growing shy, your hands feeling clammy as your thighs pressed together, desperate to soothe that sweet ache between your legs.

Sometimes, he would compliment you, saying he liked your dress or how you style your hair.

“May I say you're lookin’ lovely' today, little lady.” You swallowed deeply, your lips parting as you gazed up at him, eyes wide. “Thank-thank you, mister,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You…you're awfully kind.” You continued, not being able to help yourself. How could you stay away when you yearned for him so deeply?

“I ain’t really,” he answered bluntly, his eyes boring deep into yours, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. You've seen that same look on many men before, but only he had your heart racing with want.

“Maybe just to pretty ladies like yourself,” he continued, his hand reaching up to scratch his stubble chin.

If your face wasn't on fire before, it sure was now. You didn't know what to say as you began to stutter, sweat building between your legs and inside of your bodice. “I don't—” Your fingers curled around your cross, praying to God to give you strength or show mercy.

“What’s your name anyway?” He spoke up for you, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pack of premium cigarettes. He placed the stick between his lips as he held the lighter close to his face, raising a brow when you lacked a response.

You gave him your name. Your eyes were bashful as they looked down at his shoes, noting the quality of the leather and his metal spurs.

“Ain't that lovely,” he responded, gray tendrils of cigarette smoke escaping his nose, his eyes never straying from your face.

“What’s yours?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady as your subconscious body seemed to float away, high into the sky and never to be seen again. You've never felt so euphoric. If it was wrong, how come it felt so right?

“Arthur,” he answered, tapping the ash from the end of the stick away into the dirt. “Arthur Morgan,”

“Well, it… it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan,” you said politely, part of you hoping to appease him. It seemed to work as his grin grew wider, his teeth poking out from behind his pink lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes looking you up and down. “You too,” he said, emphasizing your name before exhaling another cloud of smoke. You bit your lip to hold back the whine building in your chest. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to put a name to a face s’all.”

You wanted to tell him, no, to please stay, just a little longer. And yet you only watch in silence as he dipped his hat to you before turning and striding in the other direction. You watched him go, eyes drifting low to his backside, appreciating the natural sway of his hips as he left.

My Lord, please give me strength.

You and Arthur had met several more times after that. He'd sometimes saunter up to you after church, asking about your day and flirting with you right in front of the house of God, sometimes even in front of your Daddy.

Daddy had given you a good whooping after that, reminding you to stay away from that man if you know what's good for you. But you just couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. Lord knows you did.

But like Eve and the serpent, Arthur offered you the tastiest treat you couldn't refuse. Why did it feel so good if these feelings were so condemned? You started questioning your faith the more Arthur lingered around, and you started to fear for your sake. Maybe he was no good after all. Perhaps this was all a test.

But no horns were sprouting from the outlaw’s head, no devil’s tail swaying mischievously behind his back, he had no red eyes, and no white fangs. And despite what the poets might say, he had no slimy forked tongue. And you would know, counting how many times your eyes had fallen to his mouth as he spoke. Each time his tongue ran over his lips, yours would do the same.

There came a time when he placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your face when he asked to buy you a room somewhere for the night. His cold eyes burn through you. You knew you should've said no, refused the forbidden fruit, and asked him to leave you alone for good. You were a child of God, blessed without sin, and designed for purity. But those would all be lies. No one is without sin. You thought as you nodded, your breath shaky and your cheeks stained red.

Daddy will raise hell. You reminded yourself, but it was already too late. You sealed your fate when you decided to shake hands with the devil.

As Arthur led you up the stairs, his hand entangled with yours, his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hotel, the wooden floors creaking under his weight.

He opened the door for you to enter the small and empty room, the hair rising on the back of your neck as he followed close behind you. “Arthur, I—” you stammered when it dawned on you, realizing what you were about to do.

“Shh, don't be nervous,” he soothed as a heavy hand rested on your hip, sliding up your waist. “I’ll take good care of you,” he reassured, gently removing his hat and placing it on the night table beside the bed.

Like a predator circling its prey, he stalked around your body until he stood in front of you, both hands on your hips as he smiled down at you. He was so close. You almost let out a whine of fear, eyes glued to his teeth to ensure he didn't have fangs, just in case.

“I promise I don't bite,” he chuckled, almost like he could read your thoughts. Maybe he could. He leaned close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Unless you want me to.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped you, anxiety and desire twisting and churning in your stomach, leaving you speechless.

“I've never…” Your voice trailed off, the words getting lodged in you as Arthur hummed in response, seemingly unsurprised.

“I figured,” he chuckled, confirming your suspicions. “Sweet, innocent things like you usually are,” he grinned, flicking the cross against your chest. You weren't sure what to make of that.

“We just won't tell ‘em, ay?” he let out a huff of amusement, reaching back to unclasp the necklace around your neck.

“Wait,” you halted him, gazing at his confused expression. “I…I want to leave it on,” you murmured, eyes drifting downwards, hoping you hadn't disappointed him. You weren't sure why you wanted it to stay; it didn't make sense logically. He was right; you should put it away, considering what you were about to do—what you were about to let him do to you.

However, something about it gave you a sense of peace or reassurance: even though you were betraying everything you were ever taught, everything you've ever known, God was still there, and he still loved you. Maybe giving in to your deepest desires could reconnect you to him in some way, that finding pleasure in the most sinful of ways wasn't sinful at all. Wouldn't he want you to feel good if he really loved you? To take what you want?

He was silent momentarily before he removed his hands from your grasp. Here it comes. You thought, eyes shutting, waiting for his disapproval.

His fingers grasped your chin, tilting it upwards, his thumb rubbing softly over your bottom lip. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” his voice cutting through the silence. “You can do whatever you like, darlin’.” his low, warm voice was gentle and consoling, offering comfort instead of pain.

“Thank you,” you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, your eyes gazing up at him with adoration, yet your hands continued clutching your dress, unsure of where to put them.

He hummed again, taking your small hands in his much larger ones, gently urging them towards him. You gasped as your fingers made contact with his skin, like it was the most lewd thing you've ever done. It might as well have been.

“I should be thankin’ you,” he responded, lifting your right hand to meet his lips, kissing your knuckles with a sweet softness you've never known. “Ain’t every day I meet a pretty girl like you.” he charmed, stepping closer towards you, your body stiff with nerves.

“I thought you said you were always nice to pretty girls.” You recollected, thinking back to the time you were first properly introduced.

“Well, I might've lied. Just a bit,” Arthur smirked, chuckling at your shocked expression. “They're not always as sweet as you,” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours. As your noses brushed together, he tilted his face to the side, one hand reaching up to guide your face to do the same in the opposite direction.

“Arthur, I don't know–” “It's alright,” he hushed, his breath hot against your lips. “Just follow my lead, alright?” You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath when he requested you to. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, the thin hairs of his beard tickling your cheeks. “Now, breathe out. Slow.”

As the cool air inside your chest unfurled from your lungs, his mouth pressed against yours. You squeaked in surprise, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips moved against yours. His hands smoothed down your lower back, pushing you closer until his erection was pressing up against your stomach.

You moaned into his lips, your body set ablaze as you struggled to kiss him back, your movements stiff and uncoordinated. He pulled away, a deep chuckle leaving his chest, causing you to squirm in shame.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” he purred, the fingers undoing the top buttons of your dress. “Don't be so nervous,”

“Easy for you to say,” you huffed, watching as his hands descended to each button, opening it with practiced fingers. He laughed, kissing your forehead with a smile. “I know, but just trust me.”

Trust me.

This was the most trust you've ever put in anyone you've ever met in your entire life. Here, this man was undressing you so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. It probably was, to him. How many girls has he been with? You thought almost bitterly, jealousy spiking at him cherishing any other woman like this.

Every man you've ever met has bragged about how many girls he's bedded, whether they were modest wives or working whores, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if the man was handsome or ugly, rich or poor, dirty or clean. They all had the same goal in mind. Maybe Daddy was right. You thought anxiously as your dress fell into a pool around your ankles, leaving you in your bodice. Perhaps you were just another notch under Arthur’s belt. Even Daddy would stumble home with his clothes undone and lipstick stains adorning his neck.

Maybe Arthur is different. Maybe he's a good man.

“What's goin’ on up there,” Arthur asked teasingly, yet concern still laced around the edges of his voice. “If you don't want this–”

“I do!” You interrupted quickly, hands latching onto the front of his shirt, your lips puckering in embarrassment. “Sorry, I–I'm just nervous s’all.”

“I know,” he said, his arms resting against your upper arms, rubbing his calloused hands over your soft skin. “I understand. We’ll take it slow.” He promised, leaning forward to capture your lips in another kiss. He held his lips against yours this time, letting you adjust to him as his fingers deftly coiled around the strings of your bodice, slowly unlacing them one by one.

“S’been awhile myself,” he admitted, hoping to soothe you in some way as he took his time undressing you until you were left in only your bloomers, standing still with your face hot and your lips chewed raw.

“You don't…” you hesitated, wondering if you even wanted to know the answer. “…do this often?” You finally inquired as his eyes filtered over your exposed form. “Nah…” he answered, hands running all along your body.

“Well… once upon a time, maybe.” he grinned at you wickedly, his white teeth gleaming underneath his self-satisfied smirk. He laughed, finding the expression you subconsciously made amusing.

“Don't get all jealous now. It ain't like that anymore.” He promised, unbuttoning his clothes this time, undoing his vest, and taking off his short sleeve. “I wouldn't take advantage of someone like you,” he reassured, undoing his suspenders until he was left in nothing but his pants with his gun belt still sitting heavy over his hips and gun holster attached to his side.

Your eyes roamed to a large expanse of his chest, thick, coarse hair sprouting from his skin and leaving a path down into his pants. “Now,” he started again, your eyes snapping back to his face.

“Go sit on the bed for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender, a heavy hand smoothing over your head. After letting his words sink in, you did as you were told. You knocked off your shoes as you sat at the edge, trying to avoid his gaze. With a simple click, he pulled the gun belt from around his pants and set it down near his hat, his holster following suit.

“Take ‘em off,” he instructed, his eyes studying your face as he undid his belt, waiting for you to undress. You clutched the warm off-white fabric of your clothes, your breaths coming in shaky, knowing you were about to expose your body to a man; you've never felt so vulnerable.

“I won't ask you again,” he threatened, his lips tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I have no problem takin’ you back home.” Just the thought of home had fear swirling in your gut. You'd instead take this than face your daddy. You knew it was unavoidable, but you'd rather it at least be worth it.

You nodded your head swiftly, standing back up to shed yourself of your underclothes until you were left in nothing but a necklace sitting on your naked chest. The cold surface of its metal and the cool air caused your skin to rise in goosebumps, your nipples perking in response.

“Good girl,” he purred, eyes drinking in your naked form with a dark hunger you've never seen. The spurs of his boots clicked as he reached forward, carefully sliding them off before setting them aside.

As you sat back against the bed, your fingers reached up again, clasping your cross, letting its sharper ridges poke against your skin.

“Don’t be scared now,” you gasped as his pants fell to the floor, his cock finally springing free mere inches from your face. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor as you stared. You've never seen one before. Do they all look like that? Are they always this big?

“You okay?” he laughed, strutting towards you, his cock bobbing between his thighs, hanging low towards the floor. Up close, you could see every vein protruding from underneath his foreskin, a strange liquid shining at the tip.

“Um…” you were at a loss for words, unable to look away. “What if it doesn't… y’know,” Arthur tilted his head to the side as he neared, hands on your waist as he urged you back further. “…fit?” You finished with a squeak as your head hit the pillow below, and your hair splayed out behind you.

You peered up at him, curious as his cheeks dusted into a dark shade of pink. Was he embarrassed? Did I offend him? “It’ll fit,” he said, looking away almost bashfully. “Gotta prepare you first,”

Prepare me?

He leaned forward until his forearms rested against either side of your head, trapping you underneath his body. Soft brown hair strands framed his face as he leaned closer, and front pieces fell over his thick brows.

You gazed into his clear blue eyes, deep as the sea, with a warm yellow ring around his black irises, reminding you of the sun’s rays casting light across blue skies. His eyes flickered between yours, seemingly searching for something before his lips connected to yours once more, his hairy chest pressing against your breasts.

Reaching up with shaky hands, you entangled them into his hair, resting them gently in fear of maybe hurting him. “That’s it…” he encouraged, his hand finding yours, interlocking your fingers, and pressing them to the bed.

“Just breathe,” he reminded before kissing you again, his cock twitching against your thigh, subtly rutting against you. You did as you were told: in and out. You thought to yourself as you practiced slow breaths until your heartbeat slowed to a semi-normal pace. “You got it,” he smiled into the kiss before continuing down your neck, rubbing his lips over sensitive skin.

You whimpered, your hand tightening against his as he lowered even further, reaching your chest. He let out a deep groan as he pressed his face against your breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck.

You looked down at him in shock, unsure what to do as he began rutting harder against you. Is this what people do? You were so confused, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. He let go with a slow suck, his heavy eyes meeting yours once more.

“Have I sprouted three heads?” he chuckled, worrying his lip with his top teeth. You shook your head, one hand gripping his shoulder to balance yourself.

“I don't… am I doing this, right?” As you whispered, your face flushed with warmth, and you squeezed his hand tightly, seeking comfort.

“You don't gotta worry your pretty little head over nothin’,” he said as his fingers dipped between your bodies, tracing over your thighs before nearing your pussy. You could feel its dampness trickle between your legs and into the sheets, your little pearl throbbing with need.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, his gaze softening into an emotion you've only seen flicker in his eyes and disappear as if it was never there. But this time, it stayed; it settled for you.

You didn't know what to say, so you opted not to speak; the silence spoke for itself as you stared back. The hand in Arthur’s hair cupped his stubble cheek, urging him closer before kissing his lips. He grunted at the contact, his tongue prodding the entrance of your mouth, forcing it to open before it slid inside.

No fork. The thought popped into your mind as Arthur’s tongue slid against yours, massaging the wet muscle with flicks of his own.

The hand against your leg reached underneath your thigh, lifting it around his waist before dipping back between your legs. You gasped into his mouth as his thumb reached underneath your hood, finding your pulsing clit and pressing down, moving in slow and deliberate circles. You moaned out; never once had you felt anything so amazing in your entire life. You had never touched yourself down there before; shame always held you back, and now you regret it.

All those times you refused your aching body with release almost seem abusive looking back now.

“Oh, Arthur,” you gasped into his mouth as he continued, your hips lifting to try and chase the addicting sensation.

“It feels so…” You couldn't even find the words to describe the feeling. It would be useless to try to explain it now.

“Like that?” he groaned, picking up the pace of his movements as his other fingers teased your entrance, coating his calluses in your essence. You nodded, mouth still open as broken whines and whimpers escaped your wet lips. You arched your back, your face falling to the side as you squeezed his hand, nails biting into the flesh of his skin. Arthur didn't seem to notice; if he did, he didn't show it, fully enraptured by your sensitive flesh.

“Christ, you're so wet.” Arthur didn't mean anything by it, but the mention of a name so holy during a time like this had your thighs closing around his forearms, trapping his hand against you.

He was also right. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life. “Don't stop, Arthur.” You pleaded, trying to reopen your legs to give him more room.

“Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart,” came his husky reply. You sighed at his words, more so the thickness of his voice.

“Wider, darlin’,” he grunted, his middle finger catching onto the rim of your hole. “Gotta stretch you nice and proper, so you can take my cock.”

“Arthur!” you whined, embarrassed by his words, throwing an arm over your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, his movements slowing down. “Thas’ what you want, ain’t it?” He urged his finger, slowly inserting itself as you bucked upwards, trying to chase the dwindling pleasure.

You whimpered in reply, opening your legs further, allowing him to slip his finger in deeper. It was so thick and so warm, your pussy welcoming him with wet pulses as he slowly moved it in and out. The pain was sharp but was slowly replaced as his finger curled deeper, reaching places you weren't aware even existed.

“There’s a girl,” he rasped, eyes glancing between your face and your slippery cunt before adding a second finger. He wasn't deterred by the small amounts of blood coating his digits, only focused on making you feel as good as possible while preparing you to take him.

“You're doing so well.” he sighed, twisting his fingers before spreading them into scissoring motions, completely enraptured as your pussy convulsed around him, spilling more and more slick as his fingers quickened their pace.

The only sound in the room was your deep moans and the sloppy sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his hand. Arthur shifted his wrist so the edge of his palm rubbed against your sensitive button, curling his hands deep against your G-spot and smirking in triumph once he found it.

“There it is,” he chuckled as he gazed upon your expression. Your thighs slammed closed around his wrist as you arched your back deeply, feeling your spine ache in protest, but you didn't care.

“Ah! Right there!” You squeezed his hand with all your strength as a new sensation built in your stomach. Something was coming.

“Arthur!” You whimpered; your free hand reached towards his wrist, which was now twisting with more force as his fingers pumped faster, harder.

“Wait! It’s—I’m,” Arthur was quick to silence you with another deep kiss, yet you couldn't kiss him back as much as you wanted, your mouth struggling to stay closed as whorish noises forced their way out.

“Just let go, honey,” he groaned, the heel of his palm digging deeper. “It's alright, just let go.” His voice was so thick and coarse, so warm and so rich, so deep and so guttural you couldn't help but fall victim to his spell.

With one final wail, you felt something rush out of you, something liquid but didn’t quite feel like pee. All you knew was that it felt good.

I hope this is what heaven feels like.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your voice growing tight as Arthur continued his pace, helping you ride out your high before eventually slowing, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, taking in your debauched state with a proud smile. Your hair was in disarray, strands sticking to your sweaty skin as your eyes fluttered, lashes resting against your darkened cheeks, and your eyebrows drawn close. Your lips were wet and rubbed red from his kisses, drool lewdly sticking to the corners of your mouth. Your naked chest heaved, your cross still sitting in between your breasts.

“You alright?” Arthur chuckled, slowly removing his fingers from your wet heat and wiping the mixed residue on the sheets.

“I never wanted it to stop,” you whimpered at the empty feeling inside you.

“I know that's right,” he agreed with a chuckle, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. You gazed up at him sheepishly, your hands reaching out to grab his forearms, letting your hands feel the warmth of his skin.

He hoisted your hips upwards, wrapping your thighs around his waist before leaning forward, his palm cupping your cheek before slotting his mouth against yours. Your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the kiss, unaware as his hips shifted forward.

With one hand around his cock, he pumped it generously, coating his dick in precum as he guided it toward your entrance.

“Big inhale for me, darlin’,” he requested one final time. You did as you were told, breathing in a large gulp of air before you felt something catch against your rim and push inside, filling you inch by inch as the air caught in your throat.

“And out,” he grunted, pushing his cock to the hilt, forcing himself deep inside, cursing as you clamped around him. He swore he'd felt traps looser than this.

Your exhale was probably closer to a sob. You've never felt so full in your whole life. Although the stretch wasn't nearly as painful as you imagined it would be. There was just so much pressure.

“You're doing good, fuck, just keep breathing.” he panted, barely even able to pull back with how tight you were clutching him. You nodded when trying to focus on his words as his cock throbbed inside of you.

“Good?” he grunted, his face twisted into something akin to pain, his heavy brows pulled forward, his face creasing as his eyes threatened to squeeze shut despite his resistance to keep them open. He sucked on his lower lip, struggling to concentrate as your wet heat pulsed around him.

“It feels… full.”

He groaned in response, thrusting up into you until his pretty cock punched against that spongy spot, causing you to kean, your body squirming, unsure if it wanted to pull away or chase the feeling.

“It's too much,” you whimpered, your hands pushing against his abdomen before he took your wrists in one hand, forcing them above your head as he rocked against you, fucking his cock in and out in slow yet deep thrusts.

“Take it,” he practically growled, his warm gaze turning cold as he towered above you, one hand enclosing around your hip as leverage, manipulating your body up and down in time with his thrusts.

“God, fucking take it,” he accentuated each word with a powerful shove, your skin slapping loudly each time they met. You couldn't even use anything to stabilize yourself, his fist wrapped firmly around your hands, holding them down with ease.

You were forced to take the onslaught of pleasure, tears welling up in your eyes as you cried out with movement, each jamming of his cock against your sore, sensitive pussy.

“Arthur!” you sobbed, your body squirming desperately underneath him, attempting to run away from his battering hips that grew faster with each minute that passed.

“Yeah, say my name,” he moaned, his eyes falling shut as his lips parted, deep pants escaping his chest with every movement. “Go on, say it again,” he reopened his eyes, glaring down at you with a look of something fierce.

“Arthur!” You moaned, pleading with your eyes for him to slow down. He smiled wide, letting go of your wrists, urging you to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in close, chest to chest.

“Am I being too rough?” he teased, pecking your lips tenderly as he slowed to a softer grind, allowing you a bit of grace.

“It's okay,” you panted, nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, closing your eyes in bliss as his thick cock ruined you for anyone else. “You can go faster… if you want,” you gripped him by his arms, burying your face in his neck, shyly kissing the expanse of his throat.

He let out another deep groan, his hand resting behind your head, pulling you closer as his other curled into the sheets below you, fucking up into you at a steady pace. You held onto him tightly, knowing you wouldn't last much longer.

“It's coming again,” you warned, your voice high-pitched and airy as you struggled to breathe, feeling as though he was fucking into your lungs.

Arthur leaned upwards, letting you fall back onto the bed as he took hold of your waist, his unoccupied thumb pressed down against your clit, rubbing fast circles as he urged you to finish.

“You’re almost there,” he grunted, watching as his cock reappeared before disappearing back inside you, the base coated in your milky arousal.

“You got it, c’mon,”

You reached behind you, fingers curling into the sheets below as you arched in his touch, gasping for air as the sweet pleasure built quicker, coming in faster and harder. “M’so close, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know,” he cursed, fucking himself deeper, trying to get as much of himself inside as possible.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me,” whines began to escape his lips, sounds you never thought you'd hear him make.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, barely holding on as the thread threatened to break. You watched Arthur’s shoulders shake with what looked to be laughter, his thrusts stuttering before picking back up again.

“Yes,” he dipped his head to the side with a hiss, his thumb pressing harder against your delicate pearl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

Something about the nickname did it for you. It was said with affection and lust, smooth as silk and sweet as strawberry wine. Arthur’s voice was thick and rich, slipping into your ears and knocking around in your brain.

You came with his name on your tongue, crying to the heavens above, knowing that even if God has turned back on you now, at least you’ll suffer knowing you were loved in some way by someone. You felt his nose nuzzle into the side of your neck, his hips slowing into something almost romantic.

You felt him place a kiss on your shoulder, almost as a silent apology, before drawing back and slamming forward, fucking you so fast and so deep the frame of the headboard knocked against the wall over and over. You held onto him for dear life as he used you for his pleasure, groaning uncontrollably in your ear.

“Almost there, fuck,” he whimpered, his hold on you tightening to something almost painful before he pulled out swiftly, pumping his cock at an inhumane pace before shooting white ropes across your stomach. He came loudly, teetering near a shout. Every time you thought it was over, more and more kept coming out, eventually spilling onto his hand and running down his length.

He glanced down at the cross, rising and falling with every movement of your chest. He smirked, holding it up in his clean hand, his thumb smoothing over the protruding patterns.

At least now he can say for certain where he’s truly going.

“C’mon, darlin, let's get you cleaned up.”

main masterlist, rules

WhY CaNT hE Be ReAL😭

A Morbid Jealousy || Low-honor Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Summary: A successful robbery has led to the gang celebrating at the camp, but Arthur gets very nasty when he sees you dancing with John

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v, low-honor Arthur)

Word count: 1442

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Everyone in the gang just sat together and had fun like one big family during this rare moment. A small bank was robbed successfully. Except for Arthur, everyone returned intact with bags full of money.

You were told by Charles that he had decided to return to camp alone. Arthur probably wandered around the town and got into trouble; that's what he does.

As you listened to Javier's guitar and the gang's happy voices singing a song, you had a still full bottle in your hand.

Your look of unhappiness caught John's attention. He patted your shoulder and said, "Hey." You were offered a hand by him. "Wanna dance? I can't dance, but seeing you sad like that is annoying."

Getting up and drinking your beer, you were glad someone was trying to cheer you up. Your arm wrapped around his neck as you rocked along with the rhythm of the music. You chuckled, "Abigail would be jealous."

John wrapped his arm around your waist. "Don't worry about her. I'll deal with her on my own," he spun you around.  Even though John didn't know how to dance, watching Dutch many times helped. "The only thing I want to do is cheer my friend up." he offered you a bright grin.

Taking a moment to let the rhythm control you, you whispered, "You're sweet." and kissed his cheek briefly. While nuzzling his neck, you giggled, saying, "You're a good dancer."

John shrugged and held you tightly as he laughed, "Me? No, I just watch old Dutch dancing all the time."

It was the worst time you could have chosen to dance with John - Arthur returned to camp just now; he hitched his horse and went to the campfire. The moment he saw you and John so close, he stopped in shock. A loud roar from Arthur brought everyone's attention to the direction he was pointing. "What the fuck?"

As you pushed away from John, you whispered, "Arthur..." Your face flushed with confusion as you noticed your boyfriend's consternation; you knew how jealous he could be.

Both of you were approached by him. 

Arture growled at you loudly and grabbed your arm tightly as he turned to John. "I know you are so desperate for every little touch, rabbit, but you could make some fucking standards." Arthur turned to Johna and added briefly, "Martson, you should be fucking happy you have a child, or I would kill you right here and now for even talking to her,"  Arthur said and dragged you away from everyone.

While Morgan dragged you away from the crew, you whispered, "John," as you wanted to apologize to him for Arthur's behavior. Your arm soon slipped from Arthur's strong grasp. "Arthur, you didn't have to be that mean to John. He did nothing wrong."

"He touched you," Morgan growled. "Undress," Arthur ordered as he closed your tent's flaps.

"Yes, because we were dancing!" You reminded him and cocked your brow at his order. "Why?"

Arthur yelled, "Undress, or I'll rip your clothes off myself! I don't care what you two were doing. You are mine!"

Unbuttoning your dress, you shook your head. You said firmly, "You overreacted, Morgan," as you let the dress fall to the floor. "Happy?"

As he put away the gun belt, he said, "On your knees."

Slowly getting down on your knees, your eyes on his face, you shivered but obeyed. He was clearly pissed off, so you decided not to argue with him anymore.

I'm so surprised you're so quiet. Suddenly, you are not defending John," he smiled. "You are in the right place now, rabbit," Arthur purred and ran his hand down your hand before grabbing it tightly. "You are mine and only mine. Do you understand?"

Liking your lips, you nodded eagerly. "I belong only to you, Mr Morgan," you agreed, closing your eyes for a while.

He quickly opened his pants and purred, "Now this is a good answer. You've got to show me how sorry you are."

As you looked at his face, you reached into his slightly worn jeans and pulled his half-erected cock out; you spat on its tip and pumped your hand over its shaft.

In his low grunt of approval, Arthur watched you like a hawk; he let go of your hair for now and placed his hand on your nape.

Trying to suck his dick at the same time, you bobbed your head back and forth and used your palm to pump over his cock. Your hand squeezed his shaft as you sucked on his balls.

Arthur purred, "That's right, girl. For once, you behave like you should."

You were suddenly picked up by him; he flipped you over to your stomach and put you on the cot. 

"Was touching that bag of bones even worth it, rabbit?" Arthur growled at you.

Apparently he was hot for you; you blinked and blushed as he pushed you onto the bed. Your butt was raised a bit and you shook it for him. "Fuck me," you begged.

He roared, "I asked you something!" You felt Arthur squeeze your throat.

"It wasn't," you whispered.

"Louder! I can't hear you!"

You growled loudly, slipping your hand beneath you so you could slip your finger into your aching pussy. "It wasn't!"

He sighed, getting up from his cot to search for his bag. "You really love to annoy me, woman. How can I even put up with you."

Arthur pulled out his rope and returned to you; he took both of your hands and tied them behind your back. "It might teach you how to behave," Arthur said proudly as he moved his hand along your spine as his free hand tugged his jeans fully off.

When he was doing things like this, you always shivered, but eventually, it turned you on even more; you simply loved to be mercilessly manhandled.

While his tip moved through your pussy lips, Arthur teased, "You got a problem with moving, darlin'?" He hummed and slammed into you, pushing as hard as he could. "Ain't so brave anymore, huh? You are always so smart until I get you into my hands.

You screamed, "Oh, God!" When pleasure hit you hard, you rolled your eyes and begged, "Untie me, Arthur! I need to touch you!" 

His member was immediately squeezed by your walls.

"Nah, I don't think so," he smiled and thrust deep into you.

His thrusts became deep and hard. "You won't play around with fucking Marston," Arthur growled the last part lowly.

Let out a long moan as you stick your bun up to him. You cried out through parted lips, "I love it when you fuck me well."

"Moan, I want everyone to know who you belong to, and I want that bag of bones to know how well I fucked you," Morgan whispered into your ear after leaning forward to you.

"I'll scream your name if you untie me!" You begged. His thrusts made you feel slick and wet, along with your juice pouring down your thighs.

Grabbing your hair, Arthur lifted your head. "Now, you ain't the one to make the conditions, so you better scream without any stupid ideas or I will fill you up with my cum and leave you here, all tied up for everyone to see."

You screamed, "Arthur! Oh, just fuck me, honey! Just like that!" You rolled your hips for him to meet his thrusts. "I belong to Arthur Morgan!"

After those words, he started moving fast and hard, trying to make you cum hard around his thick cock. "Now you're a good girl," Arthur purred, biting your neck. Choosing such a place, he knew you would have difficulty hiding it.

As soon as he bit into your neck, your walls tightened around his member so strongly that he was unable to back away. You dripped juices down your legs when you cum hard around him. "Fuck," you trembled.

"Such a good girl, I'm gonna enjoy watching you walk funny tomorrow, darlin'," Arthur whispered into your ear and filled you with his cum.

As your vision blurred, you moaned and waited for him to untie you.

Arthur let out a happy sigh and got up. Putting on his clothes, he said, "That was fun. What do ya think, darling?"

You smirked at him and asked, "Untie me. And it was fucking brilliant. You were amazing."

"I know I was," he giggled and tucked his gun belt into his waistband. The tent flaps were raised by Artur without a word, and he left to join the still-going party, leaving you tied up on his cot.