Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader 🍋 “Hunted”
Kink(s)/Sexual Themes Mentioned: praise kink, alcohol involved, oral sex, vaginal sex
Summary: (Y/n) was an outlaw who made the lawmen run around in vain. They wanted a pretty penny for her, and they wanted her alive. While camping out in a cave, she met her match, a rugged man who was determined to claim his reward. Only, he claims much more in the process.
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Branches and briars clung to her pants as her horse tore through the overgrown wilderness. The smell of wet dirt calmed her mind even in the exhilarating thrill of being on the run. The family didn't even stand a chance when she stepped foot on their homestead. She tied them up one by one, took what she wanted, and left as soon as she came. Unfortunately, her crime was reported and her bounty grew higher. The clopping of horse hooves grew more and more distant with each tree she passed. She knew it wouldn't be long before she lost the law again.
Six times in one week had the price on her head sitting at a good $85 and only rising. She smirked just thinking about it. Every cent higher felt like a trophy earned. Every lousy hunter that came her way was left defeated by all means necessary. One could be found tied up in the woods, while another ran away in sworn secrecy.
Another good hour was spent with the night wind fresh on her skin, leaving it sticky and adding a course texture to her hair. Her horse clambered over rocks and rubble as she ascended the mountain to a cave she had turned into a personal camp. Although it was to be temporary, she liked it far better than the other camps she had set. At least with a cave she was sheltered from any harsh weather conditions, and it was deep enough to hide from the rest of the world. Thankfully, nothing else lived inside of it already.
The outlaw kept her warm cotton shirt snug on her body until the cave was finally in sight. The deep cave had a wide enough opening for her horse as well, so she led her companion inside on foot. It seemed colder inside the cave than out. Damp rocks allowed no room for natural light. The cave itself led in a large loop, and her actual camp was set up in the far end of it.
A pile of blankets could be seen beside the bed of coals which used to be lit aflame. Soon the fire would flicker again and warmth would be restored to the area, but for now, (Y/n) had her horse's lead in one hand and a lantern in the other.
Once she set up the lantern and tied up her steed, she made quick work of the fire pit. She managed to kill a rabbit along the way, so it was her dinner for the night. A sense of security only washed over her as she prepared the rabbit over the open flames. The sound of rain and thunder came from the distant opening, and (Y/n) was glad she didn't have to camp outside anymore.
Her horse huffed as the lady softly hummed a hymn she grew up around. Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling rang quietly throughout the cave. Although (Y/n) had no real attachment to the lyrics of the song, she found comfort in it as she reflected upon her mother's sweet, smiling face. The rabbit was tender, tasting of chicken but stronger.
Earlier in the day, before her homestead adventures, she brought a bucket of water from the river back to the cave. Now, with the skies wrecking havoc on the land under the cover of darkness, she felt safe enough to remove her shirt and attempt to scrub the stains left behind by grass, dirt, and gun oil.
The buttons on her blouse were easy enough to undo, and while she washed her face first and then the shirt, she caught a glimpse of her life before she became troubled. Her four-year-old daughter stood beside her, begging (but a little too young) to help with hanging the wet clothes on the line. Her husband tended to the pigs. As smelly as the pigs were and as difficult as the stains in his clothes were to get out, they were beyond thankful for the life they lived. That was, of course, until two men busted down their door one night. (Y/n)'s husband did everything he could to protect them, but the shotgun on the wall wouldn't shoot fast enough. The money they demanded wouldn't appear from nowhere. Family heirlooms were already handed over, but it wasn't enough.
Instead of money, they took lives that night. (Y/n) narrowly escaped on a horse out back. She ran and kept running. She hadn't stopped yet. The memories of her husband's and baby girl's lifeless bodies lay still in the back of her mind. Her bounty raises higher with every passing day, but the number of people she has killed has remained zero. She may have to resort to stealing to survive, but she has never taken the lives of the innocent.
Even now, as she sits in her bra and pants, scrubbing the dirt out of her own clothes, her morals stand true.
The thought of hugging her baby again was shaken instantly from her mind as she heard echoing footsteps at the edge of the cave. She jolted to her feet, her nervous system taking control of her body. Muscles tensed and breaths became quick and shallow. She poured the water over the fire. It sizzled and died out almost instantly. Her horse glanced around uneasily. She untied it fast, pushing it away to flee from the other end of the cave.
(Y/n) wasted no more time as the footsteps grew closer, the dull light from a lantern that wasn't hers beginning to break through to her side of the cave. She ran as stealthily as she could to a small and confined crack in the cave. Now on her knees in the crevice, she pulled a large rock in front of the opening to close herself in. The rocks surrounding her were unforgiving and jagged, stabbing into her bare back, but she curled into a ball at the far end, making herself as small as possible.
As the stranger invaded her camp, she made a desperate attempt to control her breathing. She felt ashamed for getting caught so off guard. Her gun laid twenty feet away from her beside the fire pit. Her shirt, soaked and still stained, left her more exposed than she had ever felt. The only protection she had was the small knife that was in dire need of sharpening in her belt.
'Who would go bounty hunting during a storm like this?' Was the only thought that plagued her mind.
"Huh. Couldn't a gone far," said a low, gruffly voice. Clearly a male. Definitely a bounty hunter. All hope of this person being a calm stranger seeking shelter during a storm fled (Y/n)'s mind instantly, even though she never really thought that to begin with.
(Y/n) slowly moved her hand toward her knife. The footsteps grew closer. The hunter was making his way through the cave like any new explorer would. If she stayed quiet, maybe he would continue searching elsewhere, and she could get out of this alive and free.
"Wonder if somebody got to her before I could," he wondered aloud, kneeling to feel the wet shirt on the ground, but he also saw that it wasn't torn and rethought his statement. Taking notice of how soaked the fabric was, he calculated that she had definitely been here within the last hour. He figured she had been running through the storm and found shelter in the cave. Chances were she was either still in the cave or in the area.
"Lantern's been lit recently," he noted. (Y/n) cursed herself. She hadn't had time to smother the flame. Breaking it would've given her away immediately.
It didn't take him long to notice the crack in the cave with the boulder in front of it. It seemed oddly placed. Unnaturally standing guard. Maybe he was overthinking things. Trying too hard. But he couldn't take the chance. $85 sounded real good next to these $25 bounties.
(Y/n), noticing how close the light was getting, squirmed impossibly further into the dead end. She covered her mouth with one hand and held her knife tightly with the other.
A boot was placed firmly on the side of the boulder, and in one strong kick, the boulder fell on its opposite side, exposing the hole. Heated tears started to threaten (Y/n)'s vision as panicked ensued. She kept telling herself to remain calm, to fight, to run, to take her own life, to do anything and be anywhere but here. Between all of the chaotic thoughts and choices screaming in her mind, the man's voice cut through the damp night air.
"O-Oh! Sorry, ma'am. N-Now don't make this difficult. Nobody has to get hurt," he said, obviously a little flustered at the sight of her mostly exposed upper half, but still trying to remain professional and intimidating enough. "What is it you want with me?!" She yelled, already knowing the answer but praying it wasn't true.
"Well.. you sure don't look half as.. scary .. as the poster made you out to be," he cackled lightheartedly as if he wasn't here to tie her up and stow her away on the back of his horse. She clearly wasn't amused.
"C'mon, now. Don't make this hard. Just crawl on out of there an' we can get back to town," he said. "I ain't goin' nowhere with you. Get out of here," (Y/n) spat back at him, feeling more enraged than scared now. She wasn't going to spend her days in a jail cell after all she had made it through. She wanted her life back. Her family back. Couldn't this man understand that?
"Your times' run out, Mrs. (L/n). I've heard about those people you've stolen from. Left em tied up and helpless. Didn't you figure this day would come?" The stranger knelt to his knees, reaching into the crevice to pull her out by her feet. She kicked at his hands, waving her knife around without actually stabbing him. "Like you're any better! I bet you do all the same things. I've met your kind. Killin' families and leaving the widow to die in the wild! Do you kill little four-year-old girls too?! You psycho son-of-a-bitch!" She screamed and cried, but his strength was no match for her dull knife. She was pulled from the hole in the wall, his tall figure looming over her dangerously.
"Killin' little kids? Nah, that don't sound like me, Miss. My apologies, really, but I need that bounty money," he sympathized, reaching for his rope on his holster.
"W-wait!" She cried. "It's money you're after, right?" He raised his brow, urging her to go on. "I've got more than $85. Take $100. Take it and leave me alone," (Y/n) pleaded desperately, squirming against the rock, her hips between the stranger's legs.
"Well, why didn't you just say so, Miss?" He smiled happily, stepping away. "But first, tell me where it is. I won't be lied to," he threatened.
"I-It's in my back pocket," she answered truthfully. She hated who she was in this moment. The other men who came to take her were weak and came at a time that was more than suspected, but this man was muscular and rugged. He was loaded with firearms and different weapons, and she knew one hit with just one of those throwing knifes would put her out for good.
She sat against the wall of the cave, trying to cover herself by wrapping her arms around her torso. "Here, ma'am," the hunter had taken his shirt off, extending it to her. She nodded, taking it with gratitude.
He looked at her expectantly, and she jumped to grab the money from her own pocket. Taking out the $100, she hesitated before placing it in his large palm. "If you don't mind me askin'," he began. "Why didn't you pay off your bounty a long time ago? Since you had the money all along?" He asked.
She sat quietly. She didn't want to answer. Just moments ago, he was going to manhandle her and take her in. Why open up to him now or ever?
"I see," he said simply, awkwardly looking around. He went to pick up his lantern and leave, but something stopped him. He didn't quite know what. As he looked around the cave, he saw her lantern that was about to die out, the fire pit that couldn't be restored in its quenched condition, and the sad pile of thin, tattered blankets on the ground. When the words she said came back to his mind, he felt empathetic. It was a strange feeling.
"Arthur Morgan," he said. She kept her gaze focused elsewhere. "Why are you still here, Arthur Morgan," she asked, wishing he wasn't.
Instead of answering, he walked toward the cave's entrance. She felt relieved as he went. After a long moment, she stood up, walking back over to her lantern which was on its last leg. It was the only light in the cave. She shivered, covering up with the thin blankets, crying silently at the thought of her last shred of freedom being stripped from her.
She knew he had the last of her money. She would have to steal again tomorrow and her bounty would raise higher. This time, she wouldn't be able to pay off the next hunter if she needed to. What if he came back to take her again? What if he takes her money and takes her in anyway?
She felt utterly defeated as she heard his footsteps once more. Surely he came back to bring her away. He would keep her money and the Sheriff's too.
But instead, he came back with a proper sleeping bag, a small amount of firewood, and a bottle of gin. Neither person said a word, as he placed the sleeping bag beside her. She stubbornly rubbed the tears from her face, watching as he knelt to build the fire.
His bare back faced her, his muscles flexing and relaxing over again while he set the firewood up. He poured some of the gin on the wet firewood and took a match from his satchel. Striking it, he lit the wood. It caught fast, burning brightly at first before dying down. He had to light one more match before the fire was convinced to stay.
(Y/n) didn't quite understand why he was doing all of this. What was a few moments ago hatred and fear was now gratitude and confusion. He obviously wasn't taking her into town. He wasn't demanding any more money or taking advantage of her. He was actually showing kindness and expecting nothing in return.
"I felt pride in having a bounty," she finally broke the calm silence. He sat on the opposite side of the fire from her. His arms settled easily on his bent knees. "Since everything was taken from me, I needed a reason to keep going. To keep running. I only take what I need from others, and I never kill them. I didn't even kill the bounty hunters that have came for me before. I knew they needed money like everybody else," she explained. She didn't know why she found it easy to talk to Arthur, but she was glad he was here to listen. It had been a long time since anybody had.
He nodded, letting her words hang in the air for a while. When looking closely enough, the crackling of the fire could be seen in his tired eyes. "Couldn't honestly tell you why I'm still here. You just don't seem like anybody else I've been after. They've all had their reasons for doing what they did to get their bounty, but none of them had good intentions. You remind me more of the people I run with rather than the people I've hunted," Arthur answered her question in return. He found this woman to be interesting and a much better person than himself.
"What about you then," (Y/n) asked. He laughed. "Ain't nothin' about me interestin'." The orange light illuminated his strong arms. (Y/n) couldn't help but take in his rough features. His brown hair fell shagged just above his shoulders. He laid his hat beside him. His eyes were dark and warm at the same time. His beard seemed recently trimmed, but there were small patches where scars wouldn't allow growth.
"You look like you have some good stories under your belt."
"What's that supposed to mean," he mused, looking across the flames at her, taking her in since the first time he saw her moments ago. As much as he tried, he couldn't get the shirtless image of her out of his mind. She looked great wrapped in his shirt, but she looked even better without it.
"You just seem like you've been through a lot more than I have," she said. "I don't know about that, ma'am. I never had a wife nor a child. Especially none that I've lost," he explained, leaning back on his hands. His defined torso was now fully exposed to her. "Please, just call me (Y/n)."
"Alright, (Y/n). If you must know somethin' about me, my momma died when I was young, and I've ran with a gang for about as long as I can remember. We're not perfect by any means, but we try to make our own way in the world. I had a woman at one point in my life, but she didn't choose me in the end. That's about all there is to know." Arthur seemed tense as he spoke, and (Y/n) could tell he wasn't used to sharing much about himself.
(Y/n) reached for the half empty bottle of gin, hesitating only to make sure it was okay. When Arthur gave a small nod, she took it and raised the bottle above her head. "To our unfortunate lives," she giggled, taking a long drink. Arthur laughed when she pulled the bottle away at the sight of her shuddering with disgust at the strongly bitter taste. She held the repulsed expression as she extended the bottle. He took a drink in return, but he didn't seem nearly as bothered by the harsh liquid.
The gin warmed (Y/n) in a way that no fire ever could. The burning sensation that tingled in her chest remained with each swallow. She and Arthur passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty. They didn't say much. Arthur had been away from camp for days on his own excursions, and (Y/n) had been alone since leaving her homestead; therefore, they enjoyed the quiet company.
While Arthur sat unfazed by the alcohol, (Y/n) felt weightless and slow. A longing desire surged from deep within and ran along her extremities. Maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was the way the tight muscles on his chest drew her in. He was dirty, but the aftermath of hard work only attracted her more. She felt warm all over, despite the cool of the cave and the dimming fire that Arthur just added another log to. She couldn't stop herself from staring at Arthur, eyes drooling over his half-exposed figure.
Yes, she was intoxicated, but not enough to act in a way she didn't want. Arthur could sense it. He sat completely still, waiting to see what she would do. He also felt warmed by the gin, but it took a lot more than a shared half-bottle to cloud his mind.
She fidgeted where she sat, the longing feeling growing too much to bear. Arthur hummed, enjoying this more than he should've. He wasn't the type of man to take advantage of a lady, but he also wasn't the type of man to leave a lonely lady miserable if she truly wanted him. Denying her in this state would be almost as bad as turning her in. She wasn't a harlot trying to make a dollar; she was a woman who had nothing to lose and a craving to fulfill. Still, he wasn't going to pursue her. He was going to wait until she broke.
She couldn't help but feel conflicted. These feelings hadn't come over her since before the passing of her husband. She wanted to honor his memory and stay faithful to him as his widow, but she had been alone for years. If she was to die alone, she could at least be fair to herself, right? She didn't know if God was real. If Heaven and Hell existed. By acting on her emotions, some would deem her unworthy of a pure afterlife. Maybe they were the ones who deserved Hell more than she did.
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In the end, her deep-rooted desire took over. She didn't know how to tell this man she just met that she wanted to rid him of the rest of his clothes and have him pin her against the rocks. How was he to know how she felt? "I-I'm freezing," she finally said after a while.
He knew what she was angling for, and he at least gave her that. Just slowly enough to tease, he stood up and walked to sit beside her on her side of the campfire. She marveled at the way his jeans and belt clung to his hips, settling firmly just below his iliac crest. The bumps on his cold chest and arms could be seen once he sat beside her.
He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and rested his arm around her waist. His massive, calloused hand rested wistfully on her thigh. Her body sunk into his, taking in any heat he was giving off. As her head rested against his collarbone, she placed an arm along the inside of his thigh, her elbow lingering dangerously far up his leg. Innocence was feigned, but he knew all too well what kind of game she was playing.
The liquor spoke a little too loudly when she pushed her forearm into his clothed crotch. His hips rolled forward on instinct, and she smiled when a deep breath escaped his nose. His fingers gripped at the space between her hip and the top of her thigh; his thumb massaged her groin. She loved how small she felt against his body. Never mind how helpless she felt under his touch.
She barely noticed herself shifting in a desperate attempt to move his hand closer to her midline. The spark she felt inside of her body drove her insane with need. As she moved her arm to rest behind Arthur, her other hand reached across to touch him through his tight jeans.
He threw his head back, groaning deeply as his hips bucked into her hand. His fingers crawled closer, sneaking underneath the hem of her pants. Her head became buried in his neck when he drew circles on her clit.
In a way that seemed nothing short of pathetic, (Y/n) tugged at his belt, whimpering into his skin as she did. A deep laugh rose from his chest at the pitiful sight. He retracted his hand to undo his belt and his jeans, and no later than that, (Y/n) pulled harshly at the cloth. "Hey, now. This don't hardly seem fair," he joked, motioning to her fully clothed body.
She undid her own pants, taking them off completely. He did the same to his, removing his boots in the process. With a certain amount of impatience, (Y/n) sat in his lap, their undergarments now being the only thing that separated them. Her hands found their way to his hair while they ground their hips into each others. (Y/n) leaned forward enough to feel her enlarged clit rub against his length.
His head found its way to her chest, although his shirt now annoyed him to no end. She continued her steady rhythm, pressure only building in her abdomen. Wild moans left her lips as he bit and sucked into her delicate skin, creating dark marks that would last several days.
"That's it, girl," Arthur huskily encouraged her, breaking any awkwardness she felt before. His fingers ran along her side, exploring the skin underneath the shirt. The release she felt was unlike any other. It tensed her entire body, leaving her temporarily paralyzed. She wrapped her arms tightly around Arthur's back like her life depended on it. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this way.
Arthur waited patiently, massaging long circles along her backside. He understood the fragility of the situation, and he wasn't going to move forward unless she wanted to. It wasn't long before she looked into his eyes expectantly. She pulled the shirt off over her head, tossing it elsewhere. Cumbersome fingers unclasped her bra, and it slid down.
"Please, Arthur," she muttered breathlessly. Her hips rolled into his once more, with an intense need for something more.
"Beggin' for me already?" He grinned, moving her aside. The underwear didn't stay on long after; Arthur raised his hips for convenience. (Y/n) pulled it off and leaned down just far enough to kiss his length. He spat out a curse, the heat from her lips creating the perfect contrast to the cold surroundings.
She forgot just how much she enjoyed this. Arthur definitely didn't mind when she explored every inch of him with her tongue. He flinched when her teeth softly grazed the tender skin, and she licked the areas after. With the same force as if she were sucking a straw, she took him in.
"Oh God." (Y/n) loved how vocal he was. The sounds she evoked from him added to the arousal she felt between her legs. She milked the feeling, sucking hard and taking all of him the best that she could.
He forced her to pull away, knowing she would easily become his demise. Thick saliva stuck to her chin, and he couldn't help but to kiss her, rubbing her breasts as he did. He pulled at her erect nipples and she whimpered. "You're doin' so good. Are you ready for me, darlin'?" He gave her breasts a final squeeze.
(Y/n) nodded, wanting nothing more than for this man to take her now. He laid her down on the sleeping bag, removed her panties, and positioned himself appropriately. Instead of giving her what she wanted, he dragged himself along her folds. Up, down, left, and right. He pushed his tip against her clit, circling it slow. When he went down again, he barely entered her aching heat before continuing along his path. She moaned and shuddered, but it wasn't enough to convince him.
She tried to push herself lower as he passed over her again, but Arthur pushed her hips still against the ground. His grip sent her over the edge. "Fuck me, Arthur," she demanded. He let out an amused snicker. "Ask nicely," he said in return. She whined, not wanting to give in, but then he returned to her clit and she gave up all dignity.
"Please, please, fuck me, Arthur Morgan. I need you," she begged with watering eyes. The words went from his ears straight to his dick. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he winked, pushing himself as far as he could go inside of her. The sounds he got in return were ungodly.
He steadied himself, moving above her in a timely rhythm. She felt wetter and tighter than he could've ever imagined. The fluids from her previous release soaked him, spilling out over his skin at every connection. The cave recalled sounds of wet skin joining together and combined remarks of pleasure. As the two bodies became one, (Y/n) didn't know where to grab or what to do, so she let her hands get lost over his body. Her legs pulled him in closer, fighting to keep his warmth close.
She could feel his choppy breathing against her ear. "You take me so well, babygirl," he whispered praises against her skin. She hummed, arching her back. He guided her hand down to her clit, and she took over from there. The tips of her fingers grazed the base of his dick as it moved in and out. Part of her wished she could see, but the sight of his face desperately contorted in driven pleasure was all she wanted to admire.
'Damn, he is so fucking sexy.' She thought as he grunted above her. He angled his hips slightly in hopes to get as deep as he could. She felt more than full with him stretching her, and she could tell she was tightening around him with every move her fingers made.
He could definitely tell too, and when she came a second time, he knew he wouldn't be far behind her. "Fuck!" She shouted, pulsating around his length. "I am," he joked, biting her neck again. A loud groan echoed through the cave as he came too, pulling out and covering her skin.
He kissed her lips, lingering there for a long moment. His scruffy beard scratched against her face in a way that provided comfort. For the first time in a long time, she didn't want to be alone, and neither did he. Her life was already in danger with the bounty, so staying with him seemed altogether safer. Thoughts of them riding together plagued his mind as he pulled away and wiped her off with her wet shirt from earlier.
She shivered at the cold sensation, but she still felt warm inside from everything that had just taken place. "Anybody ever tell you how handsome you are?" She asked genuinely while putting his shirt back on. "You must've seen someone else just now," he laughed.
"No, I really mean it. You're incredible," she mused, sliding her pants back on. "If I'm so incredible, why don't you join me and come back to my camp tomorrow? Nobody'd mind, and we can always use an extra skilled hand," Arthur persuaded. Once they both had clothes on, despite his shirtlessness, he made sure she was settled into the sleeping bag and that the fire was still going.
While Arthur rested by the fire, (Y/n) considered his offer carefully. If she stayed here, her life would continue to consist of bounty hunters and endless fear. She also may never see him again after tonight. If she went with him, she could belong somewhere again. Even if they were on the run too, at least she wouldn't be running alone. Also, she could stay around Arthur.
"Well, it'd be pretty difficult to find sex this good if I didn't come," she smiled and he turned his face away so she couldn't see the redness on his cheeks. "That's enough flatterin' for one night. I'm liable to wake up with a head so big I can't escape this cave," he replied, their laughter filling the area.
"Now you get some rest. I'll keep watch. I can tell you need it more than I do," he said as more of a statement than a suggestion. She couldn't argue, especially not after he placed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, Arthur," she said. The admiration she now had for him was insane considering how much she hated him not all that long ago. "It ain't nothin'," he assured her, letting her rest while he went back to tending the fire.
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AN: This one is a personal favorite, and I may even build off of the idea? I read one where the reader was actually being hunted down by Arthur for sexual intent, and it was really good, so I thought I would attempt the idea with a different approach. I hope it was half as good as the one I read! 🫶