mid honor!arthur morgan x oc (looks and name not specified)
cw: NSFW, MDNI!!, consumption of liquor, arguing, oral sex (male receiving), mentions of female masturbation, cowgirl, doggy, slight man handling, switch arthur, mean & angry sex :p
wc: 3.5k
not my pictures
The air was thick and heavy, the stench of sweat and alcohol swirled around with people dancing and shouting. The voices of working women seducing drunk lonely men to make a bit of cash mixed with the loud sound of a piano. Her fingers wrapped around the clear glass with a shot of whiskey in it, her wrist angling to make the liquid swirl around and she watched it indifferently seemingly bored with the company of an older man trying his best to get into her pants with a pathetic excuse of flirting.
"Ain't interested, now git," she gritted through her teeth, bringing the glass to her lips and taking the shot, all without sparing him a look.
The alcohol burned on her tongue, blossoming warmth spreading around her chest and tingling in her fingertips. She leaned on the counter of the bar, propped up on her elbows with her hat set low on her head, setting the now empty glass onto the wooden counter and nudging with her hand towards the bartender. He gave her a long look before refilling her glass and setting infront of her clasped hands.
The older man watched her for a second before scoffing under his breath and muttering something inaudible before he turned on his heel and marched away. She sighed with a bit of relief, her shoulders relaxing as she picked up the glass again, but to her misfortune, the empty space next to her got occupied again. This time by someone of much more strength and muscle.
"Don't surprise me to see you here," came the familiar hoarse voice and her muscles tensed.
"What do you want?" she retorted, keeping her eyes on the glass in her hand, shifting her weight from one feet to another, while remaining leaned on the counter.
"Nothing. Wouldn't reckon seein' ya anywhere else," he teased, leaned on his elbow his body facing her, while crossing one leg over the other across his ankles, the sound of his spurs making her gaze drop down to his feet.
He tapped his hand on the counter, giving the bartender a look before returning his gaze to her, observing her from head to toe. She felt small in his presence and that didn't exactly come to her liking.
"Don't ya have better things to do, Arthur?" She asked, turning her head to eye him.
His shoulders looked broader than she remembered, his face now covered with a stubble. There was a patch of bright pink skin on his chin where his beard didn't grow and his nose appeared as if it had healed poorly from a previous break. Perhaps coming from a fist. He looked far from the timid boy that broke her heart all those years ago, and she internally cursed at herself.
"Ya still sore? C'mon now, it's been years," he drawled with a chuckle, downing the liquid in his glass in one go.
A beat of silence passed and she sucked in a deep breath before returning her eyes back to the glass. She gritted her teeth, her blood rising to her head, spilling through her veins into her arms and legs, and she scoffed. Eyeing the glass, she downed the shot, wincing at the sour taste slightly before pushing herself to stand up straight and putting her hand above her hip.
"How's that bitch Mary?" she grinned. "You know, the one that you dumped me for?" He stilled, glass in the air hovering a mere gap opposite his lips and her throat went dry.
His jaw clenched and he resumed his motion, setting the glass down onto the wooden counter with a slight thud as soon as he downed another shot. Perhaps it was the booze taking its price or the anger boiling inside of her, but she could feel her cheeks heat up, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple.
"Don't you dare say her name like that," he uttered, his voice barely audible through the immense noise of the lively salloon.
"Why not? Did I hit a nerve?" She mockingly chuckled. "Oooo, she was a bad fuck, wasn't she?"
His lack of response made her eyes narrow at him. She dared to take a step closer, inching towards his body before scanning him from head to toe. For the first time that night she was finally able to see his eyes, those piercing icy blue irises that observed her with such intensity that if she wasn't drunk would make her shiver.
"Wait, don't tell me..." she scoffed, eyes widening in realization. "She done left ya high and dry, didn't she, 'cause of someone else?"
"It wasn't anything like that."
"I bet it was. How ironic." She tutted, breaking the eye contact for a brief second to shake her head in disbelief.
Shifting a hand, she brought it up to his chest, pooking a finger at the sturdy muscle. She leaned closer to him, her lips inches away from his. "The history repeats itself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I’m just sayin’, you done the same thing. Fucked me and then went chasin’ after her."
"Ya know it was more than that to me."
"Was it now?" She spat and spun around, pulling a dollar bill out of her pocket and placing it on the counter before storming up the stairs.
"Where the yell do ya think you're goin'?"
He called out after her, anger evident in his voice as he rushed after her, climbing two steps in one stride.
She did her utmost best to ignore him, reaching the first floor of the salloon, then strolling down the hall to her room. He was quick to catch up to her and she internally cursed whoever was up in the sky for giving this man such long legs and strength.
"You hear me or not, woman?"
Fishing the room key out of her pocket she struggled, affected by the booze her fingers danced disobeyingly, frustration now coursing through her veins. The sound of loud footsteps approaching her quickened her heartbeat. His presence suddenly filled the hall, heat radiating from his body as he grabbed her wrist and spun her around, the key in her hand tumbling to the ground.
"What the fuck?!" She yelled, yanking her wrist from his grasp as she sharpened her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side.
"I'm not done talkin'," he said, his eyes pinning her to the wall behind her.
"Well, I am, so fuck off."
"I tried to be nice, but it looks like that ain't gonna cut it with ya."
"Shiver me timbers—"
His lips came crashing down to hers, his warm palm reaching to cup her jaw, locking her into a firm kiss. She remained still for a second before letting herself melt against his frame, knees nearly buckling with the weight of the temptation. Her hand then trailed up his chest and she shoved him back, the impact making their lips part with a soft pop. She licked her lips absentmindedly, the taste of liqour and most importantly him, searing throught her sense like a sharp knife. She bent down for the key on the floor, picking it up and inserting it into the keyhole, her fingers shaking with lust and desire as he shifted on his feet behind her. With a twist of her wrist and a pull of her hand the door opened and they both stumbled in, Arthur closing the door just as fast as she opened it, his hands as if attracted by a magnet springing towards her hips.
She threw herself at him, catching his lips into a rough kiss as her arms circled his neck, taking off his hat, tossing it somewhere into the abyss of the dimly lit room. Her hands pawed at his chest, fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt and shoved him back. The soft gasp he released into her mouth didn't go unnoticed by her and she smiled against his lips, nimble fingers deftly playing with the buttons of his shirt, her lips as if glued to his skin. Clouded by pure lust, she pressed her body against his, his gunbelt a mere discomfort and an obstacle hindering the progress of her arousal.
Within a second, his buckle popped open, the action making her lips part in anticipation and he glided his tongue across her teeth, fingers nearly squeezing the living soul out of her body just above her hips, at her waist. She exhaled sharply through her nose, unwrapping his gunbelt from around his hips with his help, the metal clip of his buckle leaving a soft thud behind as it hit the ground. Impatient, she unzipped his pants, seperating their lips, her eyes keen on his face, observing.
She could see the lust bleeding into his eyes from his brain. His lips were sinfully slicked with saliva, parted in order to exhale a hot puff of air. Strands of his hair were glued to his forehead, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, and she couldn't help but gape at the state of him, the crimson red in his cheeks nearly making her fluster. She was more than certain she looked twice as messy as he did, her hair pulled out of her braid from the haze and urgency.
His eyes scanned her face and she released a shaky breath, time almost as if stopping when he eyed her lips then brought his gaze back to her eyes. She looked at him from under her lashes, subconsciously wishing for him to apologize for leaving her, making her a miserable mess. The memory made her blood boil again, and she clenched her jaw as she dropped down to her knees, tugging his pants down to his ankles whilst her eyes remained glued to his face.
"Ain’t laid with nobody since the last time I saw ya." Came his sudden statement and she paused, eyes slightly widening in shock.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat, her fingers hooking around the waistband of his underwear, tugging it down almost as if forcefully, her vision now filling his erect cock.
"Sit down on the bed," she commanded.
He gave her a long look, eyes narrowing at her small form at his feet. He reluctantly did as told, his frame sinking into the mattress as she crawled between his legs, fingernails gently scraping at the skin on his thighs. He leaned on his arms, his abdomen muscles tensing with every slow skim of her fingers across his hips, the teasing movement dangerously inching towards his pelvis.
He gulped thickly, his gaze never leaving her frame as he savoured every single second, the sight of her on her knees between his spread legs with his cock in front of her face far beyond sinful. Her eyes shielded the lip of her hat tipped forward and he reached to lift it off her head, gently setting it on the bed behind his back. She shot him a glare before her fingers wrapped around his base, the action making a soft grunt escape his lips.
"Sit still for me," she hissed, eyeing his tip as it swirled with blood, swollen and bloodshot red, pearls of precum leaking from the slit.
The ridge of his veins at the base of his cock pulsed against her slick palm, her tongue dashing out to lick her bottom lip before she pressed a firm peck to the underside of his length right beneath the edge of his head. The skin felt smooth against her lips and she licked up a stripe from the bottom to the top, causing the muscles in his thighs spasm, his abs tightening. He cursed under his breath and she blinked up at him almost innocently, before flashing him a vicious smile and wrapping her lips around his tip.
His hand reached to her hair instantly, his thick fingers tangling with her locks and pulling at her roots carefully. She sighed in bliss when she felt his cock throb in her grasp and bobbed her head downwards until his slit was hitting the back of her throat and he shuddered. The hand splayed over his thigh raked down the tensed muscle, and she could feel the heat pooling down between her legs, her core pulsing with unmistakable desire. She watched his chest rise and fall as he struggled with controlling his rapid breathing, his vision now nearly blank as all he could see was her soft facial features glowing in the dark room under the warm glow of the oil lamps.
He pulled at her hair, making her wince in slight pain, then pushed her head back down, his hips meeting her mouth half way. He released a throaty groan and she could feel herself clench around nothing at that, the hand previously splayed over his thigh now at her neck, unbuttoning her blouse and exposing her bare breast to the crisp air of the room. She gently pinched her nipple and moaned around him, his abs tensing within the impact.
She twisted her hand at the base of his cock, applying just enough pressure to make his head lull back, exposing his adam's apple to her hungry sight. She flattened her tongue against his length and let out an appreciative hum, her other hand now working down her stomach and creeping past the waistband of her pants to her folds. When her head came back up she sucked hard, almost making him whimper and whine and he was quick to pull her mouth off of him, a string of saliva connecting her bottom lip with his tip. She smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded with lust and her cheeks flushed a shade of deep red.
Her eyes observed his state and she nearly came undone at the heavenly sight blessing her vision. His brows were cinched together, creating a tiny wrinkle on his forehead, his hair a beautiful mess, strands of his locks sticking to different directions, some glued to his sweat-slicked forehead. His pupils were dilated with lust, his mouth hanging open. His focus was on controlling his ragged breathing, his chest moving rapidly with every intake of air and he whispered a curse under his breath as his eyes scanned her face.
"Christ, woman I— I almost lost it," he breathed, voice laced with urgency and vigor.
She rose to her feet, her shirt half undone, the pale skin of her chest twinkling in the moonlight and he couldnt help himself but stare, hoping to catch a glimpse of her bare breasts. She smirked, eyeing his face, her hands unzipping her pants and tugging them down past her thighs. Turning around, making him face her back, she kicked off her boots and stripped down from her pants entirely, bending down to pull her feet from the holes, making sure to give him a good show of her rear.
His hand was quick to wrap around his cock, giving himself a few languid strokes at the sight of her ass, before she spun around, swatting his hand away.
"I'm gonna make ya regret ever leaving me for that bitch," she growled under her breath while crawling on all fours on the bed.
Swinging her leg over his body she settled down on his thighs, the moisture from her cunt smothering against his skin and she inhaled sharply at that, hands settling down on his lower stomach. She traced them up his abdomen, gently applying pressure to his shoulders and he laid down on his back, hands reaching to skim over her thighs up to her ass, his fingers kneading the tender flesh as she bent down to his level.
"I fucking hate you," she whispered leaning in, their lips locking into a hungry kiss.
She rose her hips, grabbing him at the base and aligning his cock with her entrance. Crooning her neck, her eyes watchful as she guided him in, the head of his cock catching at the rim of her cunt and he groaned in her ear, the sound making her clench around his thick length. She slowly sunk down, his cock now buried in her core to the hilt, her pelvis flush against his. The fingers on her ass squeezed the flesh as she kissed his neck, lips puckering the thin skin.
"I know ya don't," he groaned into her ear when she propped herself up on his chest, finding support to roll her hips.
"You don't know shit," came her breathy retort.
His biceps rilpling under his scarred skin, he moved his hands to her waist, his palms splaying over her stomach while slipping under her shirt and he gulped thickly, the sight of his big hands on her frame sending electricty throughout his whole body. He wrapped his fingers around her curves and helped her roll her hips into him, impatient with the pace she set for herself and losing himself within her control. She tried to protest but to no avail, his hands slamming her down onto him, making her mewl, his cock twitching.
"I think I know more than enough," he breathed when he slammed her down onto his dick again, the impact making her ass slap against his thighs.
The stretch of his cock made her see stars, the immense pressure in her lower stomach swayed and her thighs burned. She took her hand from his chest and pulled the thin fabric of her shirt apart, exposing her breasts to him and pinching her nipple gently, then running her hand down her stomach and to her slit, her fingers pinching her clit. A deep moan escaped her and his hands clutched at her body, her back arching, her breasts out on full display for him.
He wrapped an arm around around her back, pulling himself up into a sitting position while keeping the arch of her back in place, her chest in his face as he leaned his head up, lips attaching to her neck as he suckled the supple skin. She released her clit, hands now glued to his roots and tugging at his hair. He raised his hips and angled her to his liking on his lap, his cock now hitting her deeper than before. Soft and whiny pants began to escape her mouth. She was lost in the pleasure, vision blank, breathing rapid, her pulse nearly astronimical reaching unhealthy heights. He scraped his teeth over her collarbone and her walls spasmed around him.
The coil in her stomach was near to snapping, but his strong hands gripped her waist and pulled her off abruptly, lips dettaching from her neck and his long arms manipulating her on the bed. Within a second, she was on her knees on the bed, bent over, face mushed into a pillow. She whined in protest, wiggling her hips in need of some friction. The mattress dipped behind her under his weight and he stilled for a second, admiring the view of her spread wide in front of him. He trailed a hand up her spine, then closed the gap that was seperating their bodies and without a warning slowly entered her.
She choked on her breath, her hands desperately clutching at the fabric of the mattress, eyes closing and her brows knitting together in pleasure. She could hear him groan behind her. His arm was fast to circle her stomach, his upper half now bent over her, lips close to her ear.
"Ya think you can boss me 'round, huh?" He spoke and her eyes widened slightly, the sudden change of his demeanor making her shake.
Fully sheathed inside her he began to move slowly, pulling his hips backwards then gently rocking them forward into her rear, careful and precise. She let out a sharp breath, face turned to the side and he grabbed her hand, bringing it to her abdomen and with intertwined fingers pressed her palm against her skin. Her breath hitched, her palm encasing a small bump where his dick was poking.
"Fuck," she sighed.
He let out a satisfied hum, setting a pace fast enough to bring them both to their highs. He panted against her back, his lips pressing soft kisses against her shoulder blade. Her vision was a blur of her surroundings, tears now prickling at the brim of her eyes, the knot in her stomach threatening to spill any moment. His hand ventured to grip at her ass, his fingers gingerly digging into her flesh.
With few more thrusts delivered he stilled, cock throbbing and twitching inside her as his spend painted her walls, and her pussy clamped down on him, coating his dick and milking him dry. The moan he spilled in her ear made her wonder if he'd ever been this vocal but the thought was quickly replaced when he removed himself from her back and pulled his now softening dick out of her.
"Next time, you better lower your tone when speaking to me, woman."
high honor!arthur morgan x oc (looks and name not specified)
cw: NSFW, MDNI!!, established relationship, sweet talk, praise, hand job, oc wants to take care of arthur, sub? arthur
wc: 1.3k
not my pictures
The soft, rhythmic breathing suddenly came to a halt as she stirred in the bed, rolling onto her other side and pulling the covers up to her nose. She hummed in her sleep, faintly acknowledging the fact that he wasn’t asleep.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, the room spinning with darkness and his thoughts. One thought in particular: Dutch and money.
Arthur had always looked up to the older man. After all, Dutch had been his father figure for the majority of his life, and there was no denying it. He had taught Arthur everything, and Arthur knew no better. But one thing lingered in his mind—the countless words and hundreds of sentences Dutch had spoken to earn his trust and bend him to his will. Arthur had always been the workhorse. Money? Arthur. Food? Arthur. Someone from the gang got kidnapped? Wait… where’s Arthur? No matter the problem, in Dutch’s eyes, Arthur was always the solution. But those days were long gone.
Ever since Arthur met her, things had begun to change. He no longer felt obligated to the gang. He no longer felt like a dog chained to Dutch’s tent pole. He felt like an individual. Like an actual person. Not just a working animal that, once out of shape, would be sent to the slaughterhouse. With her, he felt like his purpose was to live life instead of merely surviving it.
He rolled onto his side to face her. Her eyes were closed, her nostrils flaring softly each time she exhaled. Her hair framed her face, falling down her cheeks and spreading across her pillow. He couldn’t help but feel love swell in his chest, his heart threatening to burst. He watched her for a moment before hesitantly reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The simple gesture made her stir again, and she groggily peered up at him.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya,” he whispered apologetically, retreating his hand.
She smiled lazily, the darkness of the room almost swallowing the faint gesture, but he caught it just in time.
“Can’t sleep?” she mumbled, taking his hand into hers.
She absentmindedly traced the lines on his palm, then the scars that told countless stories he’d never share verbally to avoid worrying her. She sighed, her fingers dancing on his skin like a ballerina, then felt him shake his head.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. He rolled onto his back, his hand still captured in hers.
A beat of silence passed, and he remained quiet, too lost in thought to respond.
“You’re spiralin’,” she drawled, and he scoffed at that.
“Am not.”
He released a sharp breath, and she scooted closer to his side. Her warmth enveloped him, and he marveled at it, her presence lifting the weight off his shoulders. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
She nuzzled her nose into his neck, blowing warm air on his skin to soothe whatever was bothering him. Her hand came up to his chest, gently scratching at the firm muscles. His eyes involuntarily closed, and his breathing softened. She could feel his heartbeat slowing under her palm.
Drawing small circles with her finger, she moved her hand down his ribcage, tracing the outline of a scar etched into his skin. Letting her touch wander further, she reached the hard muscles of his stomach, her pinky lightly brushing against his skin while her thumb drew rhythmic patterns.
“Feels nice,” he exhaled, and she smiled against his skin.
Her index finger circled his belly button curiously, and he shivered under her touch, the hair on his arms rising in response. Her lips brushed the spot beneath his ear, then pressed a soft kiss to the delicate skin. Her pinky wandered to his waistband, sliding just beneath it before retreating as though nothing had happened. He let out a shuddering breath, a cold chill running down his spine as a jolt coursed through his body.
She did it again, this time letting more of her fingers slip below his waistband, her lips teasing his neck before trailing to his shoulder. He felt blood rush straight to his now-hardening cock, his fists clenching at his sides.
“Woman,” he breathed in warning, but his words fell on deaf ears.
She grinned against his skin as her hand reached his base, his cock hard as steel, swollen with blood. Her fingers circled him, her thumb running along a prominent vein. His breath hitched, and a low groan escaped his lips, one of his hands shooting down to grip her wrist in an effort to stop her.
“I’m serious,” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. No matter how much he tried to hide it, she picked up on it instantly.
“Let me take care of you, Arthur,” she purred into his ear. “Let me make you forget about everything.”
He hesitated, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breath catching in his throat. His mind was too fogged to form rational thoughts.
“Please,” she murmured, kissing his collarbone to deepen the impact of her words.
Arthur couldn’t resist. His throbbing cock, painful in its confinement, begged for release. His lower stomach tensed at her teasing touch, his body betraying him. Finally, he let go, allowing himself to submit.
“Yes.”
Her hand briefly left the warmth of his boxers, and she spat into her palm, wrapping her fingers around his base immediately after. Her digits slid across his skin, as though she were testing his limits. The weight of his desire rested in her palm, warm and pulsing, his sharp intake of breath betraying the sensitivity of her touch.
He exhaled her name, his voice rough with need, and her lips curved into a smile—soft, yet undeniably wicked. Slowly, deliberately, her grip tightened, and she began to move, her hand finding a slow rhythm that made his whole body tense, then melt against her.
The room seemed to shrink around them, the outside world and his worries long forgotten. His hips rose on an instinct, chasing the friction she was providing him, the muscles of his stomach tightening with every painfully slow stroke and her hot breath fanned over his ear.
“You’re so handsome like this,” she whispered, her voice low and breathless. Her free hand came to brush a loose strand of hair glued to his forehead away from his face and he felt his cock twitch at her words.
He was completely lost in the pleasure—his brows cinched tohether, his eyes closed. He huffed like a beast, shattering under her touch, falling apart. She felt pride bloom inside of her chest at the sole fact that someone like Arthur was completely at her mercy and was hers to do as she pleased.
The sounds he made—gasps, groans, breathless pleas and low moans—sent a thrill through her, heat pooling between her legs. She absentmindedly rubbed her thighs together to soothe the ache.
She shifted her angle slightly, her movements growing slicker, smoother, as his breath came faster, his chest heaving. His hands gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white, and his lips parted, words tumbling out that neither of them fully understood.
And when he finally shattered beneath her touch, his whole body trembling, she didn’t stop until he was utterly spent, collapsing back against the pillows with a contented groan. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, her hand still resting lightly on him, not ready to let go just yet.
His seed dripped down her fingers, the sticky liquid smearing on his cock with a few experimental strokes. He squirmed at the overstimulation, moaning in slight pain and fisting the sheets harshly.
Moments later her hand stilled and his eyes fluttered open, hazy with satisfaction, and he reached for her, pulling her into his arms.
“You drive me insane,” he mumbled, his lips brushing her hair and she hummed in response her hand giving his cock a light squeeze.
low honor!arthur morgan x oc (name and looks not specified)
cw: NSFW, MDNI!!, arthur's heavily possessive and a bit mean, mentions of prostitution, consumption of liquor, praise, unprotected p in v, fingering, dirty talk, biting, slapping, arthur's crazy for oc
wc: 2.9k
this was heavily inspired by gibson girl by ethel cain, so please take it with a grain of salt
The evening air was sharp against his skin, like thousands of needles piercing his flesh, injecting poison into his veins. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples, his hair damp from the humidity surrounding him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and made his way through the camp toward Dutch's tent. The plan had to work tonight. The tension in his muscles, coiled and ready to snap, made his vision blur with rage, always on edge. And the only thing that could make it bearable was her. More specifically, sex with her. The countless nights spent alone in his cot, fantasizing about her naked body, his hand around his throbbing shaft—her breasts, the valley between them, her ass, the curve of her spine as it arched under the force of his thrusts. He imagined taking her, showing her pleasure like Dutch never could. There was nobody else, and he was so selfish about it. No other woman could rile him like she did. She occupied his mind, lived there rent-free, and it was driving him mad. The fact that she was Dutch’s most prized possession only made it worse. He swore he could burn down an entire town if it meant she was his and not Dutch's.
His steps were heavy with the weight of his desires. He rolled his shoulders in frustration, shaking off the chill in his bones, then cleared his throat before calling Dutch's name.
"How 'bout we saddle up and grab us a drink, son?"
The plan was simple: get Dutch as drunk as possible, preferably until he passed out, then ride to her house and fuck her senseless. He knew it would be impossible to get to her with Dutch always nagging about money. Arthur never understood Dutch's obsession with cash, especially when the infamous leader was secretly running a side business with working girls in Saint Denis.
The hustle involved private sex workers. Dutch would find young women, desperate for money and preferably without family, and recruit them to work for him. By day, they appeared as ordinary women on the streets of Saint Denis, but when night fell, they spread their legs for rich men in the privacy of their own homes.
The woman who consumed Arthur's thoughts was part of that hustle, and for some strange reason, she was Dutch's favorite. He kept her for himself, the selfish bastard. The knowledge crawled under Arthur’s skin, gnawing at anything soft or good inside him. All that remained was poison, disguised as jealousy and the burning need to possess her.
So, the two older men mounted their horses and rode out of camp toward town. The ride felt interminable for Arthur, his thoughts sinking deeper into a sea of frustration. He couldn’t help but fantasize about devouring her, marking her body with bruises of pure want. Dutch's words about the next plan seemed to fall on deaf ears. All Arthur could do was give him a hard stare, indifferent to whether Dutch noticed. After all, soon enough, Dutch wouldn't remember a thing about tonight.
They both dismounted, hitched their horses, and strode into the saloon, heading straight for the bar.
"Two glasses of whiskey, sir," Dutch barked at the bartender, slamming two dollar bills onto the counter. The bartender nodded, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and poured two glasses.
Arthur watched Dutch down his shot, then raised his glass with a mutter, "To this night," before swallowing the thick liquid that burned its way down his throat.
A few more drinks and countless stories later, Dutch’s legs grew unsteady. After another two glasses and a heartfelt speech about how much he appreciated Arthur, his head dropped onto the counter, magnetized by exhaustion. Arthur patted his back, slipped a five-dollar bill to the bartender, exchanged goodbyes, and made his way out of the saloon.
The tension in his legs, fueled by the alcohol, only intensified. He could feel an indescribable warmth spreading through his flesh. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine, and his fingertips tingled with anticipation.
At half-past one, he knocked on her door. No answer. A minute later, he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and took a drag. Then he knocked again, this time with more force. The door creaked open, revealing her face, peeking through the narrow gap.
"You open that door for just anyone?" he rasped, the cigarette swaying between his lips. "At this hour?" He raised a brow.
Without a word, she stepped back, revealing the interior of her apartment. Arthur took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stepping inside.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.
Arthur moved around her kitchen, inspecting the utensils, the counter, the sink, before pulling out a chair from the table. He lowered himself into it, crossing one leg over the other. She stood there in her nightgown, watching him, before clearing her throat to repeat her question.
"What do you wan—"
"Heard ya the first time."
She stood, dumbfounded, scanning him from head to toe.
"C'mere." He motioned with a hand, and she hesitantly took a step closer.
Arthur uncrossed his legs, his hand resting on her hip, pulling her closer. She gasped meekly, shifting on the wooden floor.
"Ever get that feeling like you're after something real bad, but deep down you know it ain't never gonna be yours?"
She stayed silent, the rhythmic thud of her heartbeat the only sound in the room. After a moment, she nodded.
"Hmm. Ever got it?"
She shook her head.
"Thought so. The difference between you and me is, I ain't waitin' around for nothin'. When I want it, I take it."
Her face scrunched in confusion, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
"That's why I'm here tonight. Dutch has somethin’ in his hands, and I aim to make it mine."
His thumb traced a slow, repetitive pattern on her hip, his eyes peeking up at her from beneath the brim of his hat like a predator in the shadows. She bit her lip, a heat blooming deep in her stomach, and she exhaled a slow breath.
Her hands found their way to his broad shoulders, the muscles rippling under his shirt as he drew her close. His arms circled her waist, pulling her between his spread legs. His nose brushed the curve under her breast, his lips pressing lightly against her skin through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
She tilted her head back, her eyes closing to absorb the feeling of his presence consuming her. The scent of gunpowder, sweat, and musk, tinged with a hint of vanilla, enveloped her, shutting down her rational thoughts.
When she opened her eyes again, she met his gaze—dark, hungry. She felt a surge of arousal between her thighs, and she rubbed her legs together. There was something so erotic in his eyes—the way he looked at her, the way his hands explored her hips and thighs, the fact that she was betraying Dutch and letting his trusted son make her feel this way. But it wasn’t like Dutch and she had a real relationship. He owned her body, not her soul. It was Arthur who owned her soul, pure and only his to do as he pleased. And he was about to claim it.
One of his hands slid beneath the hem of her skirt, his fingers grazing her knee, then moving upwards to the waistband of her bloomers. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, and he leaned in to kiss her stomach, his other hand pulling her bloomers down her legs.
Her eyes locked with his, the pupils dilated, as she pulled off his worn hat, revealing his crown of brown hair. He inhaled her scent deeply, then stood, grabbing both of her ass cheeks in his hands. She yelped, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him into a fierce kiss. He wrapped her thighs around his waist.
It took him no more than a few steps before he laid her on her bed. Careful not to crush her, he laid her down on her bed, then pulled away from her momentarily to pull the shirt restricting him from further action over his head and he tossed it over his shoulder somewhere on the wooden floor. With a sharp pull of his teeth, he took off his leather gloves and dropped them on the pile at his feet.
She watched him with lust in her eyes, mentally stripping him entirely, piece by piece until there was nothing left. Her thighs rubbed together at the outline of his cock in his pants and he unzipped them dismissively with practiced ease to free himself from the unbearable restraint. Noticing her hungry gaze, he gave himself a few strokes which made her bite her lip and pull the nightgown over her head, too. He crawled between the sprawl of her legs, his breathing hard, his chest heaving and eyes churning with undeniable arousal.
"I want to claim you." The tone of his voice sent goosebumps and electrifying shocks down her spinal cord, the hair on her arms and back of her neck rising as he traced the back of his finger along her jaw towards the shell of her ear.
A shudder of breath came past her lips. His hands explored her pale skin, beautiful and neat unlike his—endless scars scattered across his torso, healed yet ugly and a constant reminder of the life he's living. His stomach was flush against her own, his pulsating cock pressed against her skin. She mewled at the marvel of the moment, gently slipping her hand between their bodies to seize his length, her fingers curling around it.
"Woman, you ain’t got the slightest idea what you’re stirrin’ up in me."
She gave him a few languid strokes with a flick of her wrist, her thumb coming to press at his slit on top and he shuddered above her, lips teasingly nipping at the skin on her neck, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. He thrust his hips into her palm, desperately seeking the friction he needed to ease the tension he had been suppressing all this time.
He felt as though he could shatter into a million pieces right now, and she would be there to gather them, to piece him back together. All his, not Dutch's. The primal urge to take charge, to claim control, settled deeply in his bones. The simple fact that she was now under his control, doing things to him he had only imagined in the solitude of his cot, was enough to shatter his patience in an instant.
He lowered himself to her face, capturing her lips. His tongue invaded her mouth and she gasped into the kiss, feeling his dick twitch in her grasp as she ran the pad of her thumb along one of his veins. She spread her legs around his torso, locking her ankles at his lower back.
"I want you to fuck me, Arthur," she cooed against his lips, her nails scraping at his back with each buck of his hips into her hand.
He groaned in response, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth before lowering his head to the underside of her jaw, kissing his way down her collar bone until he reached her breast. His mouth closed around her nipple then suckled and her eyes fluttered shut. Her hand released his weeping cock and glided upwards his stomach, softly ghosting over the density of his muscles before landing upon his hair and her fingers swept back the moist strands hanging down his forehead.
With a soft pop he drew himself back from her, catching a glimpse of her gaze and locking his eyes on hers. Something dark churned behind his eyes and she shivered underneath him.
Giving himself a few strokes at hand, he aligned himself with her entrance, hissed under his breath when his tip pushed inside and slipped in easily. She choked on her breath, scratching her nails down his back.
He set a slow, torturing pace, his thrusts tantalizing, hard yet slow. She squirmed under his frame and gasped a plea. His lips captured hers, tongue protruding inside of her mouth in a rough manner, the kiss aggressive, filled with passion and deep rooted lust. Her walls fluttered around him with each thrust of his cock, his hips flushed against hers with every glide of his length inside of her.
She gasped again and his lips were on hers, panting hard against her mouth. His hand palmed her ass cheek, pulling her hips closer to his to close the already narrow gap between them and to angle her to his liking. The tip of his dick hit that sweet spot inside of her, the action making her moan in surprise. He chuckled with satisfaction as he fucked her weak body into her sheets. She cried out his name again and again.
"Good girl," he drawled as he bit down on her collar bone sending her over the edge with a hard moan. He groaned against her skin as he came, too, filling her up with his spend.
She squirmed slightly, feeling his cum seep out of her pussy and trickle down on the sheets. He panted against her chest, his breathing slowly coming down to a haste. And after a couple of minutes his digits dug into the flesh of her waist, and he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him in the motion.
She yelped in surprise, and in the brief moment of impact, braced herself against his chest. His calloused hands slid over her hips, gliding toward her waist before continuing upward to cup her breasts. A low groan escaped his lips as he kneaded the soft weight resting in his palms.
She bent down slowly, her hair framing her face as she landed a soft peck upon his lips before raising her hips and grabbing him at his base. He was quick to move one of his hands between their bodies, his fingers spreading her folds apart and circling her entrance. She gasped against his mouth, letting his tongue dive into her mouth with vigor. Her toes curled when his finger entered her, thick, long and hefty, and he marveled in her pants, possessiveness gnawing at his features.
She ground her hips into him, thighs trembling with anticipation. Her lips traveled along his jaw, stopping at his ear and biting at his earlobe while exhaling sharply. His hot breath fanned over her ear, the man whispering sweet nothings that echoed inside her skull.
"C'mon, baby," he mewled. "Give it to me good."
She sighed in response, releasing the skin on his ear from between her teeth and tilting her head to look down between their bodies. He leaned his forehead against hers, watching her align his cock with her entrance before painfully slowly sinking down on him. He watched the head of his length catch at the rim of her cunt before it disappeared entirely and she moaned into his ear.
Everyone seeks it, even Dutch. But in her mind, only Arthur could have it. There was no one else she wanted more. His strong arms, his eyes, his face, his broad shoulders and wide back, the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt, the way his riding pants and chaps hugged his thick thighs and long legs, the way he handled a gun, and the cigarette that always dangled from his lips, swaying with every word he spoke.
"If it feels good, then it can't be bad," he whispered to himself.
Oh, boy does it feel good. The tension, the unspoken lust for each other, his cock filling her up, his digits dimpling her skin right above her hips. And she feels so immoral in his lap. Going behind Dutch's back. Fucking someone he trusts.
Her eyes closed as she kissed him again, lowering herself on top of his thighs until he was buried to the hilt. Her heartbeat picked up on speed, her breathing increasing and she took a deep breath, then rolled her hips on him and he moaned.
His jaw went slack from the sheer amount of pleasure, his breath catching in his throat as she continued to roll her hips on him. And he tried his utmost hardest not to flip her around and fuck her senseless. His arms twitching from the effort of holding back, his hips bucking up involuntarily.
The coil in the pit of her stomach spiraled, and she breathed out a sharp breath when the head of his cock nudged that deeply sensitive spot inside of her. His fingers angled her on top of him, the renewed spark circling in her guts as he kept hitting that spot repetitively, bringing her closer to the finishing line. Her toes curled again, her back arched into him. His voice distantly breathed a praise into her ear and she managed to choke out a quiet moan before the coil snapped and she awkwardly settled on top of his chest.
It took a few more thrusts inside of her until he filled her up with his spend, the notion making her whimper in overstimulation. His hands came to hold her sides, one of them traveling further down to her ass and gripping the flesh tightly before delivering a sharp slap to her skin. She cried out in pain, curling on top of him.
"I own you."
an: hi guys, this is my first post on this account :p if this oneshot feels familiar, its because im reposting it from on of my other accounts that i had to delete some time ago<3 anyways, i hope you enjoyed!
↳ homophobia, racism or any hateful speech towards a certain group will not be tolerated
↳ i write oneshots only (for now), since i'm not good with long storylines and plots (might write a short series in the future)
↳ i use reader insert in my works, and there's also a use of an oc without looks or a name specified in specific posts
↳ requests are now open, feel free to leave a request in my ask box !!
— things i won't write
non-consensual stuff, sa, sh, illegal age gaps, piss or scat kink, self-insert, male x male/female x female (includes rdr/re ships), pegging, poly relationships, breastfeeding, queer sex, incest, anal sex, blood kink, hard nsfw, gore, mommy/daddy petnames, voyeourism, infantilism related kinks, pet kink or anything sexual related to animals, sadism, masochism, somnophilia
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