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vanderlesbian · 1 year

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daughter of a cop

arthur morgan x fem reader

now playing: daughter of a cop - tv girl

— a short fic inspired by the tv girl song! this is my first actual piece of writing on this blog so i hope you guys enjoy it <3 i think i have a ghost fic planned that ill start working on soon :) (it may or may not be based off a mitski song)

warnings: slight suggestive content/references

masterlist

saint denis was the epitomy of growing industrialization. factories, tight neighborhoods, trolleys that didn't seem to care if someone was crossing the pavement, and most importantly; police. it wasn't a place for a man like arthur morgan to be lingering around, and he knew it. he didn't enjoy the city, anyways. it was congested, and there were far too many rules for an outlaw like him to follow. the constant glares from men in blue uniforms and silly hats irritated him—this was nothing like the west he was used to.

however, within saint denis, there was a spot where the police didn't go. a small saloon hidden within a maze of an alley way, disguised by the neighborhood homes that surrounded it, making it appear as just another residence. it was a place that arthur frequented, but not for any reasons that his fellow outlaws would think. he didn't go to gather intel, nor did he go to have chats with dutch. no, he went because of one thing. or, perhaps one person.

he went because of a woman.

he would never admit it to the others, for several reasons. one, he was simply just embarrassed over it all, but two, she was a woman of higher class. a young woman who wore a new dress each time he saw her, with her manners being rather formal compared to the sloppy outlaw, yet she never found his habits strange or uncivilized.

that woman was you, and you were nothing other than the daughter of a cop.

it was obvious that you liked arthur. from the way you let your hand linger on his bicep each time he made a silly remark, to always hushing him when he began to talk bad of himself, telling him that he was handsome and kind. though, arthur refused to believe that was the case. he tried not to show his own affection and often wrote notes to himself in his journal that he would never meet up with you again, but time and time again he made his way into that saloon, eyes searching for you in the crowd of other outlaws. he would curse himself for coming again, but all of his anxieties were eased the moment he saw you push through the saloon doors.

you stuck out like a sore thumb—or, to put in nicer words as arthur thought he should, perhaps a daisy in a field of clovers? the moon on a clear night? arthur crossed out several made up metaphors in his journal. whatever the metaphor was, you were different from the outlaw men that frequented the hidden saloon. you were full of life, clean, unscathed, and rather innocent. arthur noted the way your eyes widened each time he told you a story about his many days of being what he called "a bad man", and how you would bring a hand to your mouth as it fell into an 'o' shape from pure shock and surprise.

though, you were never scared of him, and that's something that arthur also took note of. you held some level of empathy for outlaws, for ones that come from challenging backgrounds. you had met arthur because he had saved you from a couple of strange men, and immediately you knew that he was a kind man. there was something about him that intrigued you, aside from the fact that you found him to be attractive, and you had made it your goal to get to know him.

"i know a place where the cops don't go." you had told him. before he could say anything, you grabbed his wrist and led him through that maze of alleys, leading him to the saloon that became your special spot.

"how do you know this place?" he had asked you the day you first took him. you simply shrugged and held a hushing finger to your lips. he chuckled, and you felt your cheeks grow hot.

eventually you had told him that you were the daughter of a police man. you expected him to get upset at that fact—and he did, but it wasn't anything serious. he furrowed his brows and questioned in a low voice if you were in on some kind of ploy to catch him, to which you sincerely told him that it was nothing of that sort. your father wasn't even aware of the fact that you were seeing this man with a five thousand dollar bounty hanging above his head. arthur didn't grow as upset as you expected him to because deep within himself, he had already trusted you. it was more of a natural instinct to grow suspicious of you, but immediately felt eased the moment you placed your hand on his knee and told him that you weren't working for your father.

so, arthur continued to visit you. he waited for your letters at his camp, and he also kept each one. the other members of the gang would raise eyebrows at the mysterious parcels, to which arthur would always bashfully shrug off with a "it ain't none of your business" before riding his horse into saint denis. what was originally one visit maybe every three weeks became one visit every week, then two, then the both of you simply began to walk into the saloon any time you felt like it in hopes of seeing the other already there.

both of you knew it was risky, yet neither of you cared. your father began to question where you were going, to which you always had an elaborate excuse. dutch would question why arthur was in saint denis so often, and he would reply with some half thought out lie that made dutch raise an eyebrow in return, but ultimately shrugged off. the two of you had even began spending time outside of the saloon, out in the open streets of saint denis. arthur was rather hesitant about it all, not wanting you to be seen with a man like himself, yet you insisted.

you took arthur to your favorite spots around saint denis; gardens and parks where you sat along the edge of a pond, and to theatres where you would watch whatever event was on that evening. accidental faint brushes of finger tips had become full blown hand holding, and each time before you would hop on the trolley to depart, you would place a kiss on the stubble growing on his cheek. it was this strange stage between the both of you, one where neither of you had admitted your feelings simply because both of you were afraid of the differences in your life, yet the feeling of his lips against yours was no longer a foreign feeling, and it simply kept growing.

perhaps it was just the both of you being eager and needy, but there were several instances where you had found yourself pressed against the wall of an alley way with arthur's large, calloused hands snaking up the skirt of your dress and running along the bare skin of your thighs. privacy hardly existed within the city which cornered you into sometimes uncomfortable spots, yet you couldn't ride out on the back of arthur's horse, especially with the increased questioning from your father. the blindness of the love you were experiencing with this outlaw had completely shrouded you from the fact that your father had begun investigating your whereabouts—not until the police had barged into that saloon that had stayed hidden for so long.

you saw your father among the uniformed men, making eye contact with his furious gaze. you were the one who had grabbed arthur and ran with him out the back door of the saloon, starting a chase that was probably much bigger than it should've been. arthur had called you insane as the two of you snuck through nooks and crannies in an attempt to make it back to his horse, but there was an obvious hint of amusement in his voice as he said it. you were a woman completely separated from the world of outlaws, yet you were a natural escape artist.

eventually making it to arthur's horse, the two of you attempted to flee the city. the adrenaline was something you had never felt before, and you could hear arthur's thumping heartbeat as your ear pressed against his back while you held onto him. the police held no guns upon your father's instructions, insisting that they capture arthur alive and keep you unharmed. though, their numbers quickly increased, and you began to see the concern growing in arthur's expression.

while guiding him through the streets, arthur suddenly took a different turn than what you had told him. the feeling of his horse coming to a sudden halt made you gasp, and you hardly had time to process as he dismounted his horse and held his arms out to help you off.

"come on." he told you, eyes glancing to the side to check for signs of the law. "you ain't coming with me."

stubbornly, you refused. it wasn't until the sounds of whistles began growing closer that you saw genuine concern in arthur's face, and you hopped off the horse into his arms without a word. however, when you peered back up at him, arthur was smiling; a smile that looked as if he were holding back a chuckle.

"you are one crazy woman." he told you in a hushed tone, lifting his worn hat from his head and placing it on yours before letting you go. "now get on out of here, you shouldn't be caught up in all this."

you immediately knew his hat was a sign from him telling you that he would see you again. it was too big for your own head and blocked your eyes from seeing his horse gallop away, but when you lifted it to look, the law was racing down a nearby street with arthur nowhere to be seen. a large smile spread across your face, and you couldn't help but giggle to yourself as you disappeared into the alleys between buildings, taking a complex path back home to avoid detection.

needless to say, your father wasn't pleased when he came home to you innocently prepping tea for yourself. you didn't listen to his nagging words; something about uncivilized people, chaos and getting involved with the wrong kind. however, your interest was finally piqued when you heard that arthur had been arrested.

"it wasn't his fault." you immediately told the man, forgetting about the boiling kettle. your father scoffed, but you continued to tell him that you were the one who made arthur flee. though, he didn't budge, raising his voice as he nagged you for getting involved with such a dangerous man.

the word 'dangerous' seemed to strike something within you, because you had yelled back that arthur had saved you. that evening, those two strange men, the way arthur held your shoulders and reassured you that you were alright; there was nothing dangerous about him in your eyes. you saw your father's expression lose it's anger, and it seemed that was when he noticed arthur's hat sitting loosely upon your head.

"what's that?" he asked, pointing at the tattered leather hat.

you shrugged. "a gift from a dangerous man."

arthur had stayed in the saint denis jail for two days. what he thought was his fellow gang members coming to bust him out ended up being you, a soft smile on your lips as you wrapped your fingers around the metal bars of the jail cell. his hat still sat on your head, making arthur chuckle at the sight of you.

"did you think i was going to leave you in a cell to rot?" you giggled, allowing space for a law man to unlock arthur's cell.

"thought i was gonna have to use other means to get out of here." arthur replied in an amused tone as he stood up from the metal slab that the jail called a bed. the law man cocked an eyebrow, to which arthur raised his hands in defense. "kidding, of course."

your father waited at the jail entrance, arms crossed and a dismissive look sprawled on his face. he was the one that had told the law men to set arthur free, you explained. arthur seemed rather flustered at that information; he didn't want to thank a cop. he figured a nod of the head was enough of an acknowledgement, though it only earned a cold glare from the older man.

"how the hell did you get that bastard—" he cleared his throat. "apologies, that fine man to let me out?" arthur questioned as the two of you left the jail. you playfully hit his arm at the comment, then shrugged your shoulders.

"i was honest. told him you saved me." you answered, lifting the hat from your head and placing it back onto it's owner. you brushed a strand of arthur's long blonde hair from his face and smiled. "there ya go, cowboy."

arthur rolled his eyes, tipping his hat downwards before replying. "you know, i enjoyed that little chase of ours." he told you, holding out his arm for you to link yours with. neither of you knew where you were headed off to; you simply strolled down the street as if nothing had happened. "but don't think about doin' something that stupid again."

"i did too, actually." you then admit with a chuckle, somewhat ignoring his nagging. "it makes things fun."

after the events of that rather chaotic day, your father agreed to leave that hidden saloon alone upon your pleading requests, and it once again became your favorite spot to frequent with arthur. the two of you did earn a bit more freedom to roam saint denis and it's outskirts, allowing the two of you to enjoy some privacy, and eventually express your true feelings for one another. however, there continued to be close encounters with the law every now and then simply because of arthur's antics with his rowdy gang, but it always ended in silly laughter and breathless kisses from running so much.

arthur wrote many things about you in his journal, mindlessly sketching portraits of you next to entries about how you enjoyed sneaking around the city after dark and running errands with him whenever possible. though, at the end of his entry, there was a phrase scribbled in his neat cursive:

she was the daughter of a cop.

#music is my biggest fic inspiration lol #arthur morgan #x reader #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption 2 #fluff #dutch van der linde #charles smith #john marston #fem reader #tv girl #imagine #oneshot

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bbieangel · 29 days

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Masterlist

Joel Miller

— As The World Falls Down

— Period Cramps

— In This Rain

— Sunday Mornings

Arthur Morgan

— Moon cycle

Characters I write:

The last of us

– Joel Miller (Both the games and the HBO series)

– Tommy Miller

– Ellie Williams

– Dina Woodward

– Abby Anderson

Red Dead Redemption 2

– Arthur Morgan

– Javier Escuella

– Abigail Roberts

– Dutch Van Der Linde

– Hosea Matthews (only fluff and no romantic relationship with reader!)

– Sadie Adler

(If you have a request and the character isn't here, we can discuss it.)

NO real people.

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 5 months

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Wherever I rest my head is home if it's with you

Part 1, Luck be with you

Masterlist Word count: 2 k Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Arthur Morgan x Mary Linton John Marston x Abigail Roberts Dutch Van der Linde x Molly O'Shea Mary-Beth Gaskill x Kieran Duffy

Summary: Looking for gold is a men's world in a town run by women. The amounts of violence and suffering these men go through with the hope of getting rich is insanity. Gold fever broke marriages and relationships alike until the settlement was nearly all women. It's a small settlement, nearly a small town, next to the Elysian Pool. Most men red hot with gold fever pass through to stock up on supplies before heading down to the mines near Beaver's Hallow or Annesburg. The settlement has only one law set in stone, as lawmen do not want to come there, and it is praised like it was one of the ten commandments. You do not harm the women.

Preview

Going up towards the Grizzlies always brings a bone chilling wind along. It's that kind of cold that flows right through your lungs, into your bloodstream, and infects your every inch of being. But the four men on the road to prosperity aren't in that part of the woods yet. These men being Arthur, Charles, John, and Hosea. None of them are particularly fond of finding the gold around these parts but they are concerned about their friends who rode up weeks ago. Before their journey, the men had been told and warned about a settlement. According to the men that came back, you're lucky if you leave with a broken heart and a nugget of gold in your saddlebag. If you're not so lucky, well, you don't make it out alive. So many stories about this little settlement. They could just push through to Van Horn or go straight to Annesburg, but they have to admit they're curious. All the stories about beautiful, cruel women only fanned that curiosity. Hosea, with all his experience traveling through America, had never heard of the settlement which strengthened their desire to go see for themselves even more. After all, they've all had their hearts broken before, so what’s another chip? What Hosea did seem to know is the major of the town. He had met the woman down by Emeral Ranch while she was picking up a delivery for the town. Hosea had, so kindly, offered to be a hired gun for her in hopes of taking over the stocked wagon but was met with the barrel of a shotgun against his back when he tried to get up onto the driver's seat. She had smiled at him and kindly told him to fuck off. How he had managed to get onto her good side after an encounter like that was a mystery to the other men, but she had offered a place to rest their heads if they were ever close and in need. As they reach the edge of town, they can already tell this is a settlement like no other. Though most settlements are one street, a good place to ride through, this settlement is spread out like a village. Down by the lake is a huge ranch and down by the train tracks seems to be a hotel and post office, but no train station which strikes both John and Arthur as curious. There's a grocery store, a tailor, a saloon, a barber, a gun store, a doctor's office, everything one might need. And, as the stories predicted, a lot of women wearing pants and barely any men. Hosea points at a large house a little bit higher up on a small mountain: 'From what I've been told, that's where the major lives. Let's go introduce ourselves gentlemen.'

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ghoulishlygrey · 2 months

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Ghosts / Chapter Three: Dancing

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Four

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Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Non-explicit but later chapters will be (eventual smut)

Read it on ao3

Enjoy!

Word count: 4812

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

As the storm rolled in, shaking the broken windows and banging on the flimsy door, you couldn’t help but feel… bored. It was so boring, just sitting here in a creaky chair, in silence while Arthur doodled in his journal across the table. He didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to share the same boredom you were currently experiencing. You sigh, fingers picking at the skin on your thumb. He ignores you at first, so you sigh again, and he looks up at you.

“Whatchu huffing about over there?” He says, setting his pencil down and leaning back on his chair. It had been about thirty minutes since you’d been sitting here, since the storm started. You had nothing to do. At home, to while away the hours you’d play piano or paint entire scenes or still lifes. Here you had nothing, not even a book to keep you company, just a silent man and the butterflies in your stomach that accompanied that man. You hadn’t had the means or time when you were first “acquainted” to notice how handsome he was but now that you were looking at him, all focused on his drawing… he really was. He had strong features, dirty blonde boarding on brunette hair that swept over his ears. He had the whispering of oncoming stubble that’d he’d need to shave again soon if he wished to still be clean shaven, and his eyes were devastating. They were tired, yet determined and a shade of blue that could’ve made your knees buckle if you had a weaker resolve. And right now they were staring at you, waiting for an answer.

“I’m bored, obviously. If I had known we’d be sitting here forever I would’ve brought one of Mary-Beth’s books or something.” You say, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. This shack was modest, just a bed pushed into the corner, a dresser, tiny stove, and a small dining table; the table you were currently sitting at. You were about ninety-nine percent sure that this place was abandoned, the amount of undisturbed dust attested to that fact.

“You and her are close, are you?” He asks, closing his journal and peering over at you. You were curious as to what was in that journal, a curiosity you’d have to keep to yourself.

“How could you tell?” You ask.

“Other than the fact you’re wearing her clothes?” He chuckles, rubbing his chin, “Lucky guess.”

You glance down at your outfit, you had forgotten it was Mary-Beth’s. You had no idea what you were going to do after today, clothes-wise. You didn’t have that many options, seeing as you didn’t have any money. You could borrow clothes until you made enough money to buy your own, take out a loan from the camp (if they’d even allow that), or steal. Stealing clothes seemed like a hard enough task, something you weren’t sure you’d be able to pull off without getting caught.

“Lost in thought?” He asks after you don’t answer for a moment. You had trailed off in your thoughts, and didn’t notice you hadn’t replied to his observation. You nod, a little smile spreading across your lips.

“Yeah, I was just thinking how I don’t have anything else to wear. Just the outfit I arrived in, and to be frank, I wouldn’t mind if we burned that thing in a fire.” You laugh, thinking back to just how uncomfortable that thing was. “Pinched me something awful.”

Arthur just chuckles, nodding his head and agreeing with you. Then the room falls into silence once more and you’re left back in your boredom. Your eyes glance to his satchel, slumped in the corner. You wondered if he had anything good in there, anything you could pass the time with. Then suddenly, you were hit with an idea, what better way to pass the time than good ol’ trusty liquor.

“Hey Arthur,” You say, motioning to the bag on the floor, “You got any liquor in there?”

He follows your gaze to the bag then back to you.

“What’s it to you?” He asks, mirroring your posture and leaning back in his own chair.

“Let’s play a game.” You say, eyes twinkling as you look at him, a bit of mischief in your gaze. There was a drinking game you played with your brothers as a teenager, back when you were so excited to even get your hands on some alcohol. It was a simple game, just asking some questions or drinking if you didn’t want to answer, it was a great way to get to know someone and right now, you were curious to unfold the enigma of Arthur Morgan.

“A game? What game?” He asks, scoffing, but curious nonetheless.

“You just ask questions and the person can either drink or answer the question.” You’re smiling now, kicking your boots onto the table and giving him a cheeky look. “Come on, Arthur. It’ll be fun!”

He just stares at you for a moment, almost in disbelief before standing up and grabbing his satchel. You clap, celebrating your win and grinning like an idiot. “Hush, you.” He says, digging around in the bag before pulling out an opened whiskey. It’s about three quarters of the way full, plenty for you and Arthur. You quiet down, enjoying your victory in silence when he returns, setting the bottle on the table.

“I’ll go first, let you get a grasp of the game. I’ll start out simple.” You say, tapping your chin as you think.

“Hmmm… Okay, I’ve got one. Would you rather live on the beach or in the mountains?” You ask, taking the cap off the bottle in preparation for later.

“Never been to a beach.” Arthur says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “But the mountains ain’t a walk in the park. Few weeks ago we were stuck up there in a storm, fleeing from Blackwater. Think I’ve had my fair share of mountains so I’ll say the beach.”

You had heard about some drama in Blackwater involving a gang but didn’t realize that the very gang responsible was the very gang you were bunking with.

“You guys were responsible for Blackwater?” you ask, eyes wide as you fiddle with the bottle. “I had no idea.”

“Thought somebody, like one of the girls, would’ve told you.” He says.

“They were too excited to even meet me, let alone tell me the group’s backstory.” You chuckle, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a premature sip.

“Hey now, shouldn’t that be against the rules?” He asks, snatching the bottle from your hands playfully.

“Didn’t think you’d be one to follow rules, outlaw.” You look at him slyly, that subtle tease making him smirk and nod his head in defeat.

“You got me.” Now it was his turn to take a drink, but his was much larger than yours.

“Hey! You drink it all, we ain't gonna have any left for the game!” You scold, scoffing and staring at him in disbelief.

“Alright alright, don’t hurt yourself now.” He sets the bottle back on the table, “Guess it’s my turn?”

“Yep, ask away.” You were excited but nervous. This was his excuse to know something about you, almost interviewing you for your role in the gang. He could ask you anything, and to make a good impression, you were going to answer as honestly as you could.

“Why do you want to be in a gang? Girl like you could do anything now that you’re free from your father.” He reaches into his pocket, retrieving a cigarette from its packaging before putting it between his lips and lighting it with a match.

“With what money?” You ask, putting it rather simply. You really couldn’t do anything BUT join the gang. If you had set off on your own you would’ve been dead in a week either from bad men, over exposure from having nowhere to stay, starvation, or some other fate.

“I don’t have a gun, a horse, a bedroll, a tent, food, water, or anything else that could help me. Just a tight outfit and god-awful corset.”

He nods, seemingly understanding what you were saying. “And your father wouldn’t have you?”

“If he did, he’d just ship me off to Canada again and make me a housewife. Pop out some kids and live everyday inside.” You shudder at just how close that reality was to happening. That train robbery was a blessing in disguise, not that you thought you’d ever end up here, playing truth or drink with an outlaw.

He doesn’t say anything, just looking at you, thinking. You’d do anything to know what was in this man's head, he was such a closed book, and boy, did you want to turn the pages.

“Alright, my turn again.” You hesitate, knowing this next question was a little personal.

“Do you have any family? Other than the gang I mean.” There’s a silence that hangs in the air, and he just looks at you. He looks like he’s wrestling with something by the way his eyes slide from yours and to the floor only to come back to you once again.

He puts his cigarette out on the table silently, before taking the bottle, and throwing it back, taking a large gulp of the brown liquor. You slump in your chair, worried you had taken it too far, you knew how tough families could be. But then he opens his mouth to speak.

“Mother died when I was young, don't remember her too well but I still have her picture. Daddy was an outlaw, arrested for larceny when I was eleven. They hanged him for that.” There was no great sadness when he talked about his parents, just a quiet sort of mourning that signaled he had accepted their fates long ago. It’s obvious why he joined the van der Linde gang, like you he had no other choice.

“I’m really sorry to hear that.” You state, watching him with sad eyes. “That must’ve been awful for a little boy.” You couldn’t imagine what else this man had been through, he carried baggage with him you couldn’t begin to speculate on. You wanted to know every corner of his lore, you couldn’t help but be morbidly curious.

“It is what it is.” He says, almost nonchalantly.

“Hell, I’ll drink to that.” You grab the bottle and take a swig, the liquor burns as it trickles down your throat and you make a face. Arthur chuckles, taking the bottle and drinking for himself.

“My turn.” He says, setting the bottle down and piercing you with his dark blue stare. He thought for a moment before he spoke. “You mentioned you have brothers, who’s your favorite and why?”

Dang it, this was a hard one. To be honest, you liked them all for different reasons. Richard was the kindest, Thomas was the smartest, John had the best sense of humor. You admired them all for different reasons and calling one of them your favorite felt like a disservice. So, you grabbed the bottle and drank.

“Really? That’s the question you drink on?” He just laughs, and you notice you’ve been making him laugh a lot lately, something that makes pride swell in your chest and your confidence bloom. He had the reputation of being the camp grump, but when it was just the two of you, he really seemed to unwind.

Maybe it was the alcohol getting to you, after all you had not eaten today, or maybe it was just because you were getting too comfortable but the next question seemed like it would make or break the conversation thus far, but you had the confidence to ask anyways.

“Do you have a girl?” You were playing with the bottle again, running it between your hands but you let it go, just in case he wanted to veto the question. But he doesn’t, which surprises you, you were sure he was going to close up at the question, tell you to buzz off and that it wasn’t your business.

“I did.” Is all he says, which, again, is more than what you expected. You weren’t going to pry further as obviously he didn’t want you to.

The two of you continue for a while, asking stupid questions, drinking the liquor until it was gone and then opening up a new bottle.

“This is the last one I have.” He says, handing you the bottle, “Better make it count.”

You were already pretty drunk from the first bottle, the room was spinning and you felt light-headed but you gratefully took it and popped the cork. You passed it back to Arthur after you took your sip and he drank his fill before he set it down on the table. You could tell he was getting drunk too, just by the way he got louder, his gaze became glassy and he was swaying in his seat. It was then you got the brilliant idea, you felt like dancing.

You get up from the table, almost stumbling over your own feet before turning to Arthur.

“And just what do you think you’re up to?” He asks, a bit of a slur to his words, but not bad enough to think he was blackout drunk.

“Dance with me.” You hold out a hand for him to take, but he doesn't; he just stares at you for a second before smiling.

“To what music?”

“We’ll make our own music.” You say, beckoning him to stand up, “Now come on! Or are you going to be the camp grump again?” You tease, placing your hands on your hips and giving him a look before extending your hand again.

He just sighs before taking it, hoisting himself up and standing next to you, unmoving.

“You do know how to dance, right?” You ask when he doesn’t make a move to get into position. You would have no problem teaching him sober, having been the belle of the ball a few times when your family was invited to rich soirees. But teaching him drunk was another thing entirely, you were just relying on muscle memory to help you out here, fully not expecting to do this consciously.

“‘Course I do.” He defends himself, gently taking your hand and holding it up before sliding a hand to your waist. You rest a hand on his shoulder and start humming a lively tune. The dance is bumpy, constantly stepping on each other's toes, just to laugh it off afterwards. You keep interrupting your song with giggles and he reciprocates with hearty laughs.

He spins you around before lowering you into a dip, you’re scared he might drop you but he doesn’t. He just pulls you up and resumes the dance, and you don’t miss the way his grip on your waist tightens. At some point or another, the two of you drifted closer and closer until your chest bumped his, your gaze flits up to his and the tune in your throat ceases. You don’t know what led up to you stopping or why the tension suddenly felt so thick you could cut it with a knife, it just did.

The liquor was making you bold, so bold you entertained the possibility of you standing on your tiptoes to press your lips against his. Initially you decide against it but when you catch his eyes drifting to your parted lips, something in your head tells you to go for it, so you do. You tilt your head upwards to catch his lips in a quick kiss before pulling away. He doesn’t say anything and that same confidence that led you to kiss him in the first place withers away, leaving you standing there struggling to find words.

“I’m sorry-” You start, letting go of his shoulder and hand and beginning to back away. “I wasn’t thinking, it was stupid, just forget it hap-” But he chases you, taking you by your waist again and pressing his lips to yours. It was electrifying as you melted into his touch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and moving your mouth in tandem with his. It starts off gentle, just little pecks before you slide your tongue across the seam of his mouth and be grants you access until the kiss crescendos into drunken sloppiness that’s all teeth and tongue.

He backs you up against the table and hoists you onto it as your hands desperately grab onto his vest, undoing the buttons as he hikes up your skirt and slides a hand up your leg. It’s just then that the door swings open and an older man with a rifle on his back stands in the doorway.

“Damn kids!” He shouts, instantly getting both of your attention and Arthur reaching for his revolver. You notice he isn’t soaking wet like he should be, meaning the storm had likely passed at some point.

“We don’t want no trouble mister, we’ll get out of your hair now.” You don’t miss the way Arthur has his hand on his gun, ready to draw at any second. You also don’t miss the way the strangers eyes float to you and the smile that spreads on his chapped lips makes you want to gag.

“Well ain’t you a pretty thing?” He shifts the rifle into his hands, “Think I’ll have a turn now.”

Instantly Arthurs gun is in his hands, pointed at the stranger and firing. It was all so insanely quick you would’ve missed it if not for the loud gunshot that rang through the tiny shack. You flinch as you watch the man slump to the ground, the shot going directly through his head and painting the wall adjacent to him.

“Holy shit!” You curse, looking between Arthur and the corpse.

“Let’s get out of here.” He says, taking your hand and leading you outside. You had to step over the body on your way out, picking up your skirt so you didn’t get blood on Mary-Beth’s nice clothes. He grabs his horse’s reins and pulls her over. She had been standing under an extended part of the roof this whole time in order to stay out of the rain. He helps you up before climbing into the saddle himself and spurring his horse forwards and towards camp.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The ride back was quiet, almost awkwardly so. Neither of you seemed like talking about what had happened between the two of you. Not the kiss, not the murder, nothing. But then his hand comes to rest over yours that was resting on his middle and you felt calmer, knowing he didn’t regret it.

He gives it a quick squeeze before returning his hand to his reins and soon enough you’re back in camp. He rides up to the hitching station and slides off, offering you a hand so you could do the same. He really was quite the gentleman.

“I’ll take you into town tomorrow to buy some new clothes.” He says, casually. You’re taken aback by this because, again, you had no money.

“Wha- Arthur, I don’t have any money.” You state, matter-of-factly. He just shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.” And before you can say anything to question or protest, he walks away leaving you with a million questions. What did he mean, was he going to buy you clothes? Was the camp fund going to buy you clothes? Also what about that kiss? What did it mean? You may never know.

Later that night, you approach a campfire that Mary-Beth, Karen and Tilly are sitting around. By now you’re completely sober with a wicked hangover, and no closer to unraveling the mystery of that kiss as Arthur immediately slept off his drunkenness in his bed before heading out on a mission, giving you no time to approach and speak about it. Also, not talking to Dutch about your grade A shooting. You hoped that he’d get to that soon, the earlier you were trusted around here, the better. And if you were being honest with yourself? Did you want to talk about it? Were you ready for the potential awkwardness of that conversation? You didn’t know.

“Hello ladies.” You greet, sliding onto the log next to Mary-Beth.

“Hey,” Karen says your name, gaze following as you sat down. She was holding a bottle of beer and the sight of alcohol after today made you want to vomit. “How was shootin’?”

“Good.” You said, holding your hands to the fire in an effort to warm them, it got chilly at night and you weren’t about to ask Mary-Beth to lend you another item of clothing.

“Did’ja hit your target?” Tilly asks, putting down the pants she was mending so she could engage in conversation with you.

“I did, actually. Only missed once but I think I did enough.” You couldn’t hide your smile, you had a good time shooting today, it was something you enjoyed.

“Well, that’s good!” Mary-Beth says, hand coming to yours and giving it a little squeeze. “I hope you get what you want from it.”

“Thanks Mary-Beth, I hope so too.” You look up from the campfire and your eyes immediately lock onto Arthur’s as he walks towards the campfire you were currently sitting at. You straighten up, eyes never leaving his as he approaches. The other girls catch on and look up at Arthur. They all say their hellos and he gives a little wave before looking back at you.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” He asks, hands holding his gun belt and face casual. He wasn’t showing an ounce of emotion, just a blank face as he beckoned you to stand and follow behind him. You couldn’t begin to guess what this was about. Was it about your shooting results, the kiss, or something else entirely?

“Dutch wants to speak to you, told him about today.” He says, leading you through camp until you were standing outside of his Dutch’s tent.

“Not all of today I hope.” You say, almost under your breath and you look at him with a smirk but he doesn’t reciprocate, he just looks at you with an unreadable expression. You clear your throat, standing up straight and avoiding eye contact with him.

You were just about to ask where Dutch was before his tent flap opened and he stepped out, he had a cigar between his lips. He looks between the two of you and gives Arthur a look, again, it was a look you couldn’t place. You wished so desperately to just see into these men’s heads. They were all mysteries, but none more mysterious than the one you were standing next to, the one you had kissed.

Dutch says your name, “I hear you did very well at your little shooting trial.” He takes the cigar from his mouth, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face. It was hard to grasp that this was the infamous Dutch van der Linde, the famous outlaw known for the trail of bodies he left behind, was blowing smoke away from your face to be polite.

You smile at him, “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I bet.” He chuckles, and his eyes float back to Arthur. “Tomorrow, take her into town, buy her the essentials, a couple guns, her own clothes and so on. Use the camp fund if you have to.”

“Will do.” Arthur says, surprisingly not fighting having to run errands for you like he had before.

“Great. You’re dismissed.” He says before disappearing back into his tent, you turn to Arthur, who’s just looking at the ground.

“So,” You start but he cuts you off,

“I’ll get you in the morning, make sure to be ready.” And then he’s walking away, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape, the rest of your sentence dying on your tongue.

“Okaaayyyy…” You say to yourself, turning on your heel to join your lady friends again.

“Hey, Mary-Beth, do you mind if I keep this outfit for tomorrow? We’re heading into town to buy my own essentials.” You ask, sliding in next to her and leaning into her, and grabbing her hands.

“Of course! Going into town is fun, you’ll have a great time” She says, reciprocating.

“Thank you.” You say, giving her a genuine smile. Mary-Beth was shaping up to be your best friend in camp, someone you could trust and somebody to hang out with on your off moments. You were grateful for her, hell you were grateful for most of the ladies in this group for accepting you so fast.

“Well, I better get some sleep.” You stand up, waving to the girls before marching back towards the spare bedroll next to Mary-Beth’s. You grab the nightgown she’d been lending you and disappear behind the ammo wagon, it was far away enough that there was just enough privacy to change quickly and feel comfortable about it. At least that’s how it had been last night. Tonight, when you were about to pull your shift over your head, you heard footsteps approaching from the main camp. They scraped against the grass before stopping just around the corner of the wagon.

“You decent?” a voice asks, Arthur’s voice. You look down at your state of dress, your shift was a bit see through, but not enough to be concerning. You could just see the silhouette of your body underneath, not any of the details, plus you still had your bloomers on and were thoroughly covered.

“Yes.” You decide, waiting for him to round the corner. There’s a beat of silence before he does, quickly stepping into view and into the shadows of the wagon. You had guessed this was so nobody else saw him back here, a smart move. You yourself were not ready for the questions that would come if somebody saw him sneak his way to where you were changing.

“What can I do for you?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. You try not to notice the way his eyes dip down to the cleavage caused by action, as your shift was a tad low-cut. But just as fast as they’d looked down, they came back up to your face. He steps forward, at arm's length now as he clears his throat.

“We should probably talk about what happened today.” He says, lowly, almost inaudibly.

The sexual connection that was there was undeniable, it made you brash, made you walk right up to him and put your hands on his shoulders.

“What’s there to talk about?” You whisper, hands sliding from his shoulders to the sides of his neck. Your thumbs brush against his jaw. You knew the way he kissed you today couldn’t all have all been because of the liquor, you knew there had to be something else there; you had been thinking about it all day.

You know you’re right when his hands come to rest at your waist and a smirk spreads across your lips and you celebrate your victory by planting a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. When you pull away, he wastes no time dipping his head to capture your lips fully. You melt into his touch, pressing your body against his and moaning into his mouth. He swallows it down, bringing his hand from your waist to cradle the back of your head.

Before long he’s the one pulling away and returning his hands to his sides. You stare at him, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Is all he says before disappearing.

What? Was that all he had to say about everything that happened today? Really?

You put on your nightgown and head to your bedroll. You notice June wasn’t where you had last seen her, noticed Arthur wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You wondered where he could’ve possibly gone at this hour but the possibility of him just going for a ride to clear his head comes to you. You weren’t sure what he was wrestling with when it came to this, maybe one day you’d find out but for now, you were kept in the dark.

As you tuck in for the night, you can’t help to think about what came after this. Would you and Arthur continue this acquaintances with benefits thing? Or would he end it? You weren’t sure. All you knew was that he was the last thing on your mind when you went to sleep and the first thing you thought about when you woke up in the morning.

Were you in trouble? What did this all mean?

You weren’t sure, but something inside you told you that this was far from over.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist (comment to be added!):

@sprite-real

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x fem!reader #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption #dutch van der linde #red dead fanfiction #fanfic

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dutchimagine · 1 year

Note

ooooh gorl i think u rebageled to the wrong blog bby

pov: Eddie and Steve have decided to become nuns

(and have lesbian sex)

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flw3rrr · 1 year

Text

A Quick escape

paring: Dutch van der Linde x fem!reader

warnings: Angst, Slight swearing. (Let me know if anything else is missing.)

A/n: this is my like first ever fully post with a story. So I apologize if this isn’t well🫶

Word count: 1,022

Ever since the Saint Denis robbery, everybody in the gang has been on edge. Nobody knows what will happen next, or when something will happen. We have found a new camp, called Beaver Hollow. It’s not much, but you would say it’s somewhat hidden from the world. Though with people being off and on edge, you would say Dutch had changed the most. Micah has always been the same bitchy self.

since he returned from guarma he has been not himself. Becoming full of more broken and dishonest promises. and more lies than ever. Starting at never leave a man behind, to leaving a member behind.

With Dutch‘s erratic behavior, he’s has neither looked nor spoken a word to you. With this result, you had to sleep with the other women of camp. He had completely kicked you out of his tent, without a word. This obviously hurt you, but you never spoken a word about it to anyone.

As you began to repairing the holes in the clothing that clearly was from gunshots, you’ve realized that people began to slowly leave camp, and though it was sad to see friends who had become like family members leaving, But you knew they had a point. They all wanted their own lives now, without anymore bloodshed, and you understood them.

You couldn’t lie, you wanted that for yourself. However, you wanted Dutch in this new life for yourself. But, the possibility’s on that dream where slim. “(Y/N)? Are you alright?” You snapped out of your thoughts and saw Tilly was talking to you. “Yes, I’m fine. Just… thinking on the events happening lately.” You began, your words weren’t full of cheer, and full of hope like usual. No, they were doubtful.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Tilly said as she began to wash a peace of clothing. “Things are getting tough and scary now a days.” You nodded in agreement, no further words spoken as you resumed back to your Chores, knowing Ms. Grimshaw would start to yell for the whole camp to hear.

As you completed all the chores, more thoughts had crowded your mind. You couldn’t bare the sight of others dying, or being left behind. So once you finished everything you headed to your spot where you currently slept. Collecting your things together, and putting them in a bag securing the items. “Miss.” You heard a voice behind you. Taking a look behind you, you’ve noticed it was Arthur. Oh, poor Arthur. He’s gotten more pale and bloodshot eyes than ever.

“Arthur” you replied looking at him with sadden eyes. You knew something was wrong with him, and you felt for him.

“You plannin’ on leaving also?” He questioned. Looking like he needed rest but refusing. “Yes, I have too.” You began as you went back to packing your belongings. “I cannot see the rest die here, while I sit and watch and-“ “And watch Dutch go more crazy than he already is?” He finished your sentence. The mention of his name stopped you in your tracks. Knowing you haven’t even been near him in well… weeks. You turned around to face him with tears threatening to fall down.

“Yes… something is terribly wrong with him, and Micah is making it worse.” You spoke. “That is why I cannot bare to see others die.” picking up the luggage you finished packing. “Then…” he stated as he began to rummage for something. “Take this…. It’s not much but it’ll help you stay on your feet for while.” he said handing you the money, looking at you pleading for you to take the money. At first you hesitated, But took it because desperately you knew you would need it. “Thank you Arthur, Really.” you Said as you walked to a random horse.

“No need for thanks, just make sure you keep yourself safe.” As you came to a stop, you turned and hugged him. “I’ll miss you, really.” Tears now falling down your face, blurring your vision. “Me too… now get going before the rest notice.” He said helping you onto your horse.

Tears continued to flow down, but as you turned on your horse and looked back, you spotted Dutch standing near his tent. He clearly wasn’t happy to see you leave, possibly now thinking you of a traitor. But you just gave him a cold stare before riding off on your horse, ready to start your own life and leave all this behind.

As you began to ride your horse to the nearest train station, you instantly knew you were free. Free from the harm that was to come to the gang.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Until then it’s when you heard the gang fell apart. Attacked by the pinkertons, and chased away. Unfortunately for your ears you even found out Arthur passed. You felt sorrow for him and will always be greatly appreciative for the help he gave you.

nonetheless life for you was good. Living in a house not far from Saint Denis, a quiet town with nice people around. You lived the calm respectable life you wanted. You couldn’t regret the choice you made, Yet you did think about Dutch time to time. It hurt to leave him, but you knew he was loosing his mind everyday. It was dangerous to everybody around him, even dangerous to himself.

But that was over now. You needn’t to worry on the things that used to happen to the gang. You had a chance now at life, a chance to perhaps meet someone and have a family. Nonetheless, that was too early for the moment. You where still taking in on having your own house to yourself, able to do anything you wanted. The job wasn’t much, all you did was clean up fancy houses and get paid a fair amount. But it was able to keep you on your feet to live around.

It was the best choice made and never regretted it.

#dutch van der linde x reader #rdr2 #dutch van der linde #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #fem!reader #Dutch x fem!reader

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verstarppen · 6 months

Note

now riddle me this .

since all the drivers talk about how hard the singapore gp is because its so hot and humid HOW ABOUT

singaporean fem driver reader whos used to the climate and her shenanigans with the f1 grid

idk i thought this would be a good idea 😢😢

summary; the singapore heat can't kill you, but the sight of oscar sweaty and disheveled just might

pairing; oscar piastri x fem! ferrari driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; this is my thank you letter to @localwhoore for helping me with the oscar series, i owe you big time; also if anyone has any idea what to do when i hit 3k send me an ask

liked by scuderiayn, charles_leclerc, f1 and 3,204,985 others

scuderiaferrari The heat never bothered her anyway

view all 982,547 comments

36rg P1 BABY IT'S OUR YEAR

gonestappen not for longggggg

gothfrogasly oh they're so hot for that (get it?)

buttonette_20 It's Oscar and Lando congratulating her mid interview for me

meepshoemaker WHERE buttonette_20 Post quali interviews!! They were walking by, Lando stopped to congratulate her and Oscar had the audacity to wink but it looked so awkward 😭 meepshoemaker bless his soul that boy has 0 rizz

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiayn, landonorris and 2,111,901 others

mclaren We, at McLaren, do not take a side in the conflict, and if we had to, it would be Oscar's. That said, here are some of the ways he looks at Y/N. Happy Race Day! 🧡

view all 877,301 comments

sebwebb admin you're so brave for this

maxielhearter take a shot if mclaren admin knowing about oscassgate was on your bingo card

g3org3zilla NAHHHHHH THEY DIDN'T

mclaren Oh, yes, we did 😊 oscarpiastri 🤨

scuderiayn girl

mclaren Just doing my job 😊 scuderiayn how much did mick and max f. pay you to post this mclaren I plead the 5th maxfewtrell DUDE

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 7,800,552 others

scuderiayn i won or whatever LANDO P2 BABYYYY

view all 920,012 comments

forzapluto FERARRI WIN??? WHAT YEAR IS IT????

bottaswiththefur breaking the verstappen domination and being more excited about your buddy getting a podium is insane but not as insane as oscassgate

scuderiayn I JUST GOT A WIN AND WE'RE STILL TALKING ABOUT OSCAR'S ASS?? oscarpiastri You're no longer interested, then? scuderiayn oh charles_leclerc At last mickschumacher I teared up, they grow up so fast landonorris and if i said i caught him looking at your ass too what then scuderiayn you didn't landonorris no i didn't but like imagine if i did what then

liked by maxfewtrell, scuderiayn, fernandoalo_oficial and 3,121,347 others

oscarpiastri Thank you @ charles_leclerc for revealing your DMs. Without you, it would have taken longer for this to happen.

view all 920,012 comments

scuderiayn *being dumb enough to reveal his DMs

charles_leclerc First of all I just scored you a date. scuderiaferrari You should be scoring points instead scuderiayn ha scuderiaferrari You included scuderiayn oh im sorry, you're talking to THE max destroyer charles_leclerc Bow to her highness landonorris someone's about to be known as THE y/n destroyer scuderiayn ok mr nowins scuderiayn wait scuderiayn LANDO

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

fic-specific taglist; @onecojg @spilled-coffee-cup @cixrosie @sheridamn @namgification @thehufflepuffavenger1 @sxrcxsm26

blog taglist; @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @localwhoore @onecojg @sheridamn @cixrosie @gulabjamooon @melozyxo @spilled-coffee-cup @biitch-with-wifi @coffeehurricanes @iifloweringnightsii @jsjcue @lanando4 @fastcarsandshit @christianpulisic10 @allygatcr @marshmummy @lavenderhazeeworld @ravisinghs-wife @namgification @sheridamn @whatislifebutlemons @demvnsriot @stinkyjax @sxrcxsm26 @beskardroids @tbsloneely

(it's my birthday on sunday im about to get the best dutch anthem of the year)

#oscar piastri x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 smau #instagram au #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #f1 imagines

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astonmartinii · 6 months

Text

it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader

when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple

request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx

author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others

yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off

view all comments

user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us

user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense

yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me

yourusername: sure, jan.

user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me

maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that

yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes

user4: babe? are the flowers from max?

maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️

yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(

user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people

liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you

yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?

liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨

yourusername: no comment

liamlawson30: choke.

yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine

user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever

user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others

oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend

view all comments

user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?

oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure

landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?

oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms

landonorris: FAKE NEWS

oscarpiastri: okay buddy

user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that

user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens

user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!

logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see

oscarpiastri: and what?

logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long

landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?

oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?

logansargent: there's levels to this game norris

landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE

oscarpiastri: okay girly

user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others

yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨

view all comments

user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT

user19: but this mystery man IS

maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?

yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep

maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you

yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE

maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him

yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️

maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP

user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend

user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit

user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol

user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her

this comment was liked by yourusername

danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?

yourusername: snooze you lose

danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS

danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB

yourusername: protecting my peace

danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me

view all comments

user27: so this was the special occasion?

user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?

user29: this is now my roman empire

yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you

yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought

user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some

logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol

oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it

logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying

yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)

landonorris: I KNEW IT

oscarpiastri: no you didn't

landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt

oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions

landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???

yourusername: boo hoo

landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me

yourusername: good ❤️

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)

view all comments

user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition

logansargent: logan erasure

yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️

logansargent: SCORE

user33: every time you post there's a new plushie

yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win

user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE

oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor

yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR

oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor

yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works

maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again

yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it

oscarpiastri: not even for me :(

yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)

oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(

maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today

yourusername: we ARE cute thank you

oscarpiastri: the CUTEST

fin.

note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

4K notes · View notes

hamilando · 2 months

Text

ੈ✩ a monaco cruise (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife

fc: Olivia Culpo

a/n : This is a series, let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked ynculpo, mclaren, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 682,278 others

landonorris Monaco with my monegasque 🧡🌟🌅

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user1 isn’t he British ?

user2 his girlfriend is from Monaco

mclaren a win coming up 💪🏻

liked by landonorris

ynculpo my little british man 😮‍💨💫❤️

landonorris from which angle am I little!?

george.russell your height 🫷🏻

landonorris can you like not …interfere ?

user3 Lando with his wife and side chick 🐤

user4 BAHAHA- WE ALL KNOW WHO IS THE SIDE CHICK

user5 who ?

user6 Y/N 🌝

ynculpo excuse me

user4 BAHAHAHAH SHE REPLIED

user5 can you stop with your bahahaha’s?

user6 BAHAHAHAHAH no.

charlesleclerc a very special weekend indeed ✊🏻

landonorris I beating you ?

carlossainz55 I think we all know who is winning

maxverstappen1 me in the race, Lando in the heart

landonorris CAN YOU STOP ✋🏻

user7 I smell something ☕️

user8 max’s comment will not age well

user9 LORD PERCEVAL FOR THE WIN

user10 HAIL LORD HOLY CHARLES LECLERC

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, lilihye and 452,284 others

ynculpo 4 more shots in Monaco 🧡🌅🍑

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maxverstappen1 bunda 🍑

ynculpo 🗿

georgerussell damn, the middle pic be too fine 😮‍💨

ynculpo 🗿

alex.albon marry me middle pic 💪🏻

ynculpo 🗿

lilihye marry me y/n

landonorris HEY, SHOO 🤺

ynculpo it’s a yes lily 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc NO, HIS PLAN

ynculpo what plan 🗿

landonorris his plan of marrying you

ynculpo lando, I know it that there are years before you put a ring on my finger 🌝

landonorris offence taken

ynculpo no offence given 🫷🏻

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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 87,272 others

f1news Grid drivers and their wags were seen boarding their yatches after the Grand Prix

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user1 might be just going to celebrate the win ?

user2 nah, max would never rather go to sleep

user3 with max loosing and smiling like that- hell no it is not a Grand Prix celebration

user4 calm down, it must be like some lunch get together or something

user5 it might lando’s and max’s wedding 🥹

user6 ofc, with Kelly officiating 🗿

user7 george and carmen have my heart 🥹

user8 charles looks like the rich business dad

user9 he is rich tho-

user10 and alex can bear him a kid so

user11 he already has a kid named bear 🐻

user12 and leo

user13 and oscar

user14 kelly, sweetheart match your foundation like you match your grooming skills

user15 wait till the Dutch man sees this

user16 you have a lawsuit coming up 🔝

user14 it was a joke for legal purposes ofc ☺️

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wagnews Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N Culpo were apparently the last ones to board the cruise 🚢

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user0 they were definitely fuc-

user1 ahhhh body bang 💥

user2 AESPA MENTIONED 🦅🦅

user3 WTF IS A SUPERNOVA !?

user4 lando keeping up his fuckboy title ✊🏻

user5 there is something known as traffic 😭

user6 traffic doesn’t exists in lando’s dictionary 😮‍💨

user7 the amount of sussiness I am getting from this cruise

user8 I second that

user9 I third that

user10 IF ANY F1 DRIVER IS SEEING THIS, TELL US WHAT IS HAPPENING

user11 what if they all are boarding the cruise because of a zombie apocalypse-

user12 WTF, THAT MAKES SENSE

user13 stocking up my buldak ASAP

tg: @lydia-demarek @mel164 @h34rts4maisey @poppyflower-22 @dolphlinda

@ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirlforever2000 @magnusi-97 @clo5406 @yesmanbabe

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 5 months

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Wherever I rest my head is home if it's with you

Part 3, On the hunt

Masterlist Word count: 3.2 k Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Arthur Morgan x Mary Linton John Marston x Abigail Roberts Dutch Van der Linde x Molly O'Shea Mary-Beth Gaskill x Kieran Duffy

Preview

'There's something off about those fellers,' you state sluggishly, wildly swinging the whiskey bottle in your hand around, 'they ask too many questions.' Mary-Beth chuckles and puts a hand on your shoulder to distract you as she takes away the bottle with her other hand. You look up at her with furrowed brows and lean your head against her leg. While most of the women sit spread out on the three logs that are used as benches on the land behind Sadie's house, you have always been a ground person. Molly and Karen were ground people like you but now you're on the ground all on your own. In your intoxicated state, that makes you very sad but you don't hang onto it for too long as another thought grabs your attention. Normally you play a bit of guitar for the group but last time you all got together, you had lent your guitar to Mary-Beth who promptly broke all the strings while trying to tune it. God, how you miss that Javier feller that passed through a few months ago. He sang the sweetest songs and could make you sing as well. A quiet giggle leaves your lips. 'All men ask questions. Difference is that most men don't make you nervous,' she teases. Tilly and Abigail chuckle in return while Sadie rolls her eyes. 'You ain't got nothing to laugh about miss Roberts,' you state loudly, 'you're tripping over your own feet around that scar faced feller.' Abigail turns a bright shade of red as she tries to avoid eye contact with Sadie, but she's already seen and leans up against her. 'Oh, our sweet miss Roberts has finally found someone to bed,' she teases as she throws her arm around Abigail to pull her as close as she can. Abigail pushes her off and huffs while scooting away from Sadie. 'Ain't nothing like that. The boy is just... charmingly stupid. That's all.' 'No use in defending yourself now, sweetheart,' Mary-Beth teases. 'Yeah, we both saw,' Tilly adds. Abigail groans. 'Fine, yes, John is adorable. I don't know what it is about him ‘cause he's dumb as nails. He told me he can't even swim,' she vents to the group, 'but my stomach tingles around him. It's terrible.' 'Have they gone past the gun store yet, Mary,' Sadie questions as she looks over to Mary. 'No, I haven't seen them yet. Why? Are they all handsome,' she jokes with a teasing wiggle of her brow. You sigh, but it comes out as more of a lovesick groan. The girls laugh and you lean your head down to cover your face with your hat as you lean back against the log. 'That's one way to answer that question,' Mary-Beth teases, 'you got the hots for one of them, Lucky?' 'Piss off.' 'Weren't you sweet on that Mexican feller just a few weeks back,' Mary teases, taking your hat off your head to see your embarrassed expression. 'No, no, that was just another notch on her bedpost,' Abigail jokes, 'no feelings there, right Lucky?' 'I could've sworn she was in love the way she looked at him those nights at the campfire,' Tilly continues as you snatch your hat back from Mary. 'Same thing with that Charles feller, ain't it,' Sadie suggests with a grin, 'I heard you didn't even try to shoot him when he made fun of how you get on your horse.' 'Didn't need to,' you grumble, annoyed and blushing. 'So what is this I heard about you going hunting with Charles,' Tilly teases. 'Okay, fine, that's enough,' you bark. The mood drops for a second. You don't mind being the bud of the joke for a bit but you let them know when it's been enough and they respect it. Least they could do is respect it after all you've done for this goddamn town. 'Anyway, what’s this I heard about them looking for Dutch Van der Linde and Micah Bell?' The mood flips from light and careless to tight and anxious within a second. Those are not well-liked people to say the very least and none of you have good memories of them.

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ghoulishlygrey · 2 months

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Ghosts / Chapter Four: A Day in Town

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Warning: explicit sexual language, no actual smut yet

Read it on ao3

Enjoy!

Word count: 5298

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were up early the next day, dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. You were excited to get your own clothes, get out of Mary-Beth’s trunk and get out of her hair. You felt like you were taking advantage of her, no matter how many times she insisted she didn’t mind and was in fact happy to help. You were almost tempted to tell her what was going on between you and Arthur but it felt too soon. After all, you yourself weren’t even sure what was going on between you and Arthur, let alone know enough to communicate about it.

So, here you were, sitting on a log facing the dwindling campfire, coffee cup in hand as you gulp down the rest of the brown liquid. You watch as Arthur rides into camp, having been away all night after the moment you shared. He shares some words with Dutch before walking over to his trunk and pulling out some fresh clothes and disappearing behind the ammo wagon. You wondered if he was thinking about what had happened in that very spot just last night, he had to be, right?

When he reemerges, he’s wearing a tan scout jacket, white button-up with the collar opened, and blue jeans. He looked good, you couldn’t lie and the very sight of him sent a zap down to your core. You realize you’re staring as he goes to his tent, folding up his previous clothes and placing them on his bed to be washed later. You flick your gaze to your hands, fiddling with your cup before setting it down. Next you untie and retie the laces on your boots, anything to keep yourself from making it painfully obvious to the people around you how much you wanted that man.

“I saw that.” You look up, following the voice until you find its source; Micah. You had absolutely no energy or want to deal with this guy or his bullshit so your reply is simple, “Saw what?” before going back to tying your shoes.

“The way you look at Morgan, it’s pathetic.” He all but hisses, lifting a leg and resting his boot on the log, right next to where you were sitting. He leans into his leg, head tilting to chase your movement as you bend down to your boots. It was supposed to be intimidating, you gathered, and it would’ve been if it was anyone else in the camp.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Micah.” You shrug, glancing back at his rat-like face before you grab your cup and stand up, dusting off your skirt and heading to Pearson’s wagon to drop your cup off to be washed. He follows you, hot on your tail as he snaps at you.

“Don’t pull that game with me, girl!” He grabs your arm, causing you to spin around and face him. “Let go, Micah.” You say, as calmly as you could but the rising panic in your body was causing you to tremble.

“Just wait ‘til Dutch hears about this, we’ll have a laugh. The pathetic gun-slinger wannabe girl pining after the golden boy. What a pair you two make.” He laughs in your face and you almost gag as his hot breath hits your cheek.

“Micah, what are you doin’?” Mary-Beth’s voice pipes up and she comes rushing over. Your arm was going numb with how tight he was holding you. “Let go of her!” Mary-Beth was keeping her distance but was obviously worried.

It was then you heard the cock of the revolver, and you glance over at the sound, it’s Arthur and he’s red with fury. “You’ll let the lady go now, Micah.”

Micah just laughs his sickening laugh before practically throwing you to the ground with how hard he lets go of you. You stumble, catching yourself before scrambling to stand behind Arthur, Mary-Beth rushes to your side, slipping an arm under yours for support. . There was a crowd gathering now, people murmuring questions of what happened to each other as Arthur keeps his gun trained on Micah.

“Just give me a reason, Micah. Just one excuse.” He holsters his gun after a moment, brows furrowed as Micah rolls his eyes. “Get a little upset I handled your girlfriend, cowpoke?”

“Shut up Micah. You talk too goddamn much.” Arthur spits.

“What is going on over here?” Dutch’s voice cuts through the crowd as he emerges from his tent.

“Micah was threatening Miss” Arthur says your name, looking over at Dutch. “We really gonna keep tolerating this fool, Dutch?”

“Micah?” Dutch turns to the man in question, “This true?”

“Threatening is a strong word, more like questioning her.” Micah says, placing his hands on his hips.

“Questioning her about what?” Dutch asks, eyes flicking between Arthur and Micah.

Jesus Christ, you wanted with everything you had in you for Micah to keep his mouth shut. You didn’t want him to plant the seed of the idea of Arthur and you to everyone in the camp. You wanted to keep it a secret, at least for a while. You just wanted to enjoy it, whatever ‘it’ even was. Which you weren’t sure about.

“I think Arthur should tell you that one.” He smirks, looking over at Arthur, who was just furious.

Nobody says anything for a moment, you watch as Dutch’s face goes from confusion, to questioning, to realization, to acceptance. And you knew at that moment, your secret was up. At least with Dutch and Micah. Dutch looks to you, and all you can do is watch with pleading eyes, silently asking him to not say anything.

“All of you, back to work!” Dutch looks away from you, and to Arthur. He doesn’t say anything about it as everyone scatters, getting back to whatever they were doing. Dutch pulls Arthut into his tent, they both look at you briefly before closing the flap. You turn to Mary-Beth who is still holding onto your arm. She looks at you, a puzzled expression on her face.

“What was that about?” She asks, eyes not leaving your face. You could tell she so desperately wanted to know what was going on, having always been kept out of the loop when it came to gang goings-ons.

“Later, Mary-Beth, later.” You say, clasping a hand over the one on your arm. “Help me get the wagon ready to go into town?”

You had noticed earlier that the horse was tacked, just not connected to the wagon. Maybe doing this for Arthur could get you both out of this camp sooner rather than later. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, you hated it.

“Sure.” She nods, letting go of your arm but still walking close to your side as you both made your way to the horses. You grab the wagon horse, leading him towards the wagon and clicking your tongue.

“Cmon, boy.” You say, encouraging him into position so Mary-Beth could get the front of the wagon connected. After a moment of struggle, he was tacked and attached, ready to go whenever Arthur decided to show up again. You wondered what they were talking about in there. Well, who were you kidding, you knew what they were talking about and they were talking about you. You sigh, slumping against a tree and burning your face in your hands. You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, why did people care if Arthur was… doing stuff with you? Because something told you it wasn’t about you, it was about him.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Mary-Beth says, looking over at you, still slumped against the tree.

You part your fingers to peek at her, she’s standing there, wringing her hands, clearly worried. Finally, you retract your hands from your face, dust off your (Mary-Beth’s) skirt, and take a deep breath.

“Arthur and I kissed… twice, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was telling Dutch about it right now.” You almost whisper, not quite believing that you were letting something you wanted to be a secret out so easily. You honestly mourned the few hours you got with your secret. You just hoped the people who now knew the secret, Dutch, Mary-Beth and… Micah could keep it. You were not confident about Micah.

Mary-Beth just looks at you flabbergasted. “Arthur? Arthur Morgan? Our Arthur?” She covers her mouth, you can’t tell if she’s gasping or laughing.

“What?” You ask, nervous now. What was she about to say? Was he secretly married? No that couldn’t be right, he told you he wasn’t seeing anyone. Not anymore. Unless he lied, but you were inclined to believe him, there was something about the way he had said it.

“It’s just that it’s so unexpected, after that whole fiasco with Mary, us ladies assumed he’d swear off any more women.” She said, then she was grinning ear to ear, “But how horribly romantic! Him taking you shooting just to end up kissing you. That’s the stuff books are made of.” She’s practically jumping in place, grinning like a child and peering over at Dutch’s tent. Mary. A name to an idea. You wondered what happened between the two of them, wondered why there wasn’t some Mary in camp with a ring on her finger instead of just plain you.

“But don’t worry.” She continues, “I doubt Dutch actually cares and will do anything, he probably is just asking Arthur about it to be kept in the loop.” She puts a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“Thanks.” You say, giving her a genuine smile, “This is a secret though, so please be discreet.” You emphasize, giving her a serious look. You were not kidding around, you didn’t want to bring this situation into the light unless absolutely necessary.

She makes the motion of buttoning her lips, “Secret’s safe with me.”

“It’d better,” You warn, before something in the distance catches your attention. Grimshaw is making her way over, but you can tell it’s not for you by the way her eyes are trained on Mary-Beth.

“Uh oh.” You say, nodding towards Grimshaw, Mary-Beth follows your gaze.

“Oh, rats. I better get back to my chores.” She says, letting go of your shoulder and making her way to Grimshaw.

“Mary-Beth! Everyone must do their part, that includes you!” She all but shrieks, pointing towards some sacks of grain and flour by the border of the camp. “Get those to Pearson’s wagon.”

Mary-Beth nods, “Sorry Miss Grimshaw.” Before walking towards the sacks and beginning to move them.

You meet eyes with Grimshaw, she just gives you a single nod before walking away, off to bother somebody else. You roll your eyes to yourself. You understood that there were jobs to do and that everyone had to do their part but Christ, could she be more shrill about it?

After a blessed moment of silence you hear your name again, this time it’s an unfamiliar man’s voice. You turn in the direction of the sound only to be met by a man you had seen making the food but hadn’t actually met yet. He was holding something in his hands, but it was wrapped in canvas so you had no idea what it was.

“Hello, Mister…?” You trail off, hoping he’d finish the sentence for you.

“Pearson.” He does, stopping a few steps away from you.

“Mister Pearson.” You repeat, giving him a polite smile. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s a question of what I can do for you, my dear.” He holds out the bundle for you to take, so you do, undoing the laces before the canvas falls away, revealing a beautiful satchel. It was dark leather with a floral design stamped into it and turquoise buttons. You had owned plenty of purses in your life, but none ever felt like they were truly yours, just fashion items your mother had picked out for you. This one truly felt like you, and your eyes welled at the gesture.

“You made this for me?” You ask, looking up at the man in front of you.

“The ladies all pitched in to have it made. Thought you should have something now that you were going on adventures.” He explained, smiling at his handiwork in your hands. You could tell he took pride in his work, very reasonably so, it was amazingly crafted, high quality materials went into this bag and you didn’t want to imagine its cost.

“Well, I will have to thank them.” You dab your eyes before looking back at Pearson. “And thank you too. I’ve never seen such a beautiful satchel.” You remember Arthur’s satchel, how the craftsmanship looked familiar. “Did you make Arthur’s too?”

“Sure did.” He says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, you’re very talented.” You say, slinging the satchel over your body, it felt perfect.

He laughs heartily, “At least somebody sees it!”

“Sees what?” Arthur’s voice comes from behind you and you turn your head over your shoulder to see him coming. He looks… normal, like nothing happened in that tent. You took that as a good sign.

“She was just saying how talented I am.” Pearson gestures to you, his grin just getting bigger.

“Well, that’s your first mistake.” Arthur looks at you then to your satchel. He just nods before climbing into the wagon and taking the reins.

“C’mon. Losing daylight.” He holds a hand out and you take it, allowing him to hoist you into the wagon beside him.

Pearson just scoffs, giving you a wave before heading back to his wagon.

Arthur drives the wagon out of camp, you give a little wave to John as you pass him. You hadn’t spoken to him since the night you were brought here, but you did find out at some point that he had a child with Abigail. You had seen the child running around but hadn’t had the opportunity to meet him officially but you learned that his name was Jack. Come to think of it, you hadn’t met most of the gang, they just gave you weird looks whenever you passed, not many had introduced themselves. You wanted to change that, maybe at some point you could ask Mary-Beth to introduce you to people.

“So,” You start, shifting your new satchel into your lap. “What’d Dutch want?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Is all he says before falling into silence. That wasn’t the answer you wanted but it was just about the answer you expected. You didn’t expect for him to tell you what they were all saying about you behind your back, good or bad. However, that didn’t change the fact you so desperately wanted to know.

“Well I am.” You say back, crossing your arms. You wanted to communicate your frustration, though you weren’t sure it’d do anything. After a moment, he sighs, tilting his head to glance at you before turning back towards the road.

“He and Hosea just wanted to know what was going on.” He gruffs.

“About what?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“About us.” He says, passing the reins from hand to hand, fidgeting.

“What did you tell them?” You were nervous, you had already assumed he had told them everything but to hear him admit it would be a completely different thing.

“The truth; I don’t know what’s going on.” He says, still keeping his gaze straight ahead.

“Wait.” You pause, processing, “You didn’t tell them about the kissing?”

“Didn’t really think it was their business.” He shrugs.

You smile, sitting back and relaxing. It was an unexpected result but a result you liked. Nobody, except Mary-Beth, knew your secret. All anyone could do was speculate, Micah had nothing on you, Dutch didn’t know anything, and Mary-Beth would (hopefully) keep her mouth shut. Everything was good for now, you could actually relax.

Arthur pulls out his cigarette box. You didn’t smoke often, at home your father wouldn’t allow it. However, you’d often sneak them from Thomas’ stash, getting a feel for them but not developing an addiction. Now it was just something you did sometimes to celebrate something, calm down from something, or just socially. You make a little pinching motion with your fingers towards the box, silently asking for one. He chuckles, leaning the box towards you, allowing you to snatch one. After lighting the match and his own cigarette, he passes it to you gently, allowing you to light yours.

“Much appreciated.” You say, tossing the snuffed match over your shoulder and taking a drag.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” He says, his own cigarette hanging from his lips.

“I used to steal Thomas’, nobody ever found out.” You take the cigarette between your two fingers, using your thumb fling the ash off.

“Thomas… that one of your brothers?” He asks, and it’s at that moment you realize you never said your brother's names to him.

“Yeah, the oldest. Then Richard, then John, then me.” You explain, holding your cigarette to your mouth and taking another drag.

“Youngest, huh? That checks out.” He chuckles, not elaborating.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You ask, your own smile appearing now. You knew exactly what he meant, you totally had youngest sister syndrome, always had.

“You just seem like the youngest.” He shrugs, smirk not leaving his face as he smokes his cigarette.

You chuckle and nod, watching as Valentine comes into view.

“Where to first?” You ask, taking one last drag of your cigarette before stubbing it and tossing it to the ground.

“Gunstore, we’ll get you a couple of handguns and a rifle or repeater.” He says before tossing his own cigarette.

“Sounds like a plan.” You nod, sitting back and enjoying the rest of the ride in silence, it was such a beautiful day; not too hot but also not a cloud in the sky. The breeze tickled your face, making you smile and sigh with contemptment. If Arthur, Charles, John and Sean hadn’t robbed your train you’d be in Canada, getting ready for a wedding you wanted no part in. You couldn’t help but feel… grateful.

You look over to find Arthur’s already looking at you, a small smile on his lips.

“What?” You ask, hands coming to your face to see if you had something there.

“Nothing.” He says, turning back to the road, “Nothing at all.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I like these.” You decided, holding a volcanic pistol in one hand, revolver in the other. You place them on the counter, the clerk gives you a weird look but rings them up anyways. “Anything else?” He asks Arthur, an observation that was a bit odd to you considering you were the one picking items out.

“What about the larger guns, you pick one out yet?” Arthur was standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest as you asked to see gun after gun. You hum, tapping your chin. You had narrowed your choices down to a Lancaster Repeater and a Bolt-Action Rifle. You were leaning towards the rifle, it did more damage and the firing rate wasn’t bad.

“I like the Bolt-Action.” You decide, handing both guns to the clerk. He nods, putting the repeater back and adding the rifle to the pile at the register.

“Anything else?” He asks Arthur, who comes over to stand next to you.

After adding a gun belt and a couple holsters to your purchase, you walked out, feeling eternally more heavy as you were now carrying three guns. A weight you’d have to get used to, you gathered.

“Take a left, we’ll head to the general store to get you some clothes.” His hand comes down to your lower back, guiding you around people and horses and burning a metaphorical hole in your clothes with how hot it felt. You didn’t know if it was a romantic gesture or not but it sent a shiver down your spine and caused heat to pool in your core. You blushed, glad to be in front of him so he couldn’t see it.

“Welcome in.” The general store clerk greets, leaning a palm on the counter.

“Here,” Arthur turns you around and shoves a small stack of bills into your hands.

“I’ll be outside, buy some clothes and meet me out front.” He instructs, moving his hands to your shoulders then back to his sides.

You nod, giving a little salute before turning on your heel to talk to the clerk. The bell on the door rings as Arthur leaves, and you spot him sitting on the bench outside the window. You turn back around, the clerk smiles at you.

“What can I do for you today?” He asks, purely for the purpose of being polite as he had obviously heard your little conversation from a minute ago.

“I just need to try on some clothes.” You say, playing with the strap on your new satchel. It was still empty and you were dying to fill it up. Maybe you could get a journal, like Arthur.

“Dressing room is right behind me, you can find everything we sell in this catalog here. Just let me know what interests you and I can grab them from the back for you to try on.” He slides the catalog towards you and you lean over the counter and start turning the pages. You already knew what you wanted, a couple blouses, some cover-ups, a pair of pants and a skirt or two. Your finger ran down the table of contents, stopping once you found the number for blouses.

You picked out two; a burgundy long sleeve, high necked blouse with padded, frilly shoulders, and a white sleeveless blouse with a baby blue floral pattern that stretches over the whole thing. Next, you picked out a black cardigan and a sage green button-up. And lastly, you picked out a simple pair of blue jeans, a black skirt, a pink skirt with lace at the bottom, some new bloomers, socks, and overalls and new boots. These would do for now, however, you would need to buy a heavier jacket if you planned to go up into the mountains. Plus, these wouldn’t last forever, you’d need to buy more clothes in the future.

The clerk finishes up packaging your clothes and pushes the boxes towards you on the counter. He says the total and you cringe, counting out the amount in the bills Arthur gave you. There was just enough, you hand it over, giving him a polite wave before taking your boxes and leaving.

Arthur was writing in his journal, looking up at the sound of you coming. He stands and puts his journal away, taking your boxes from you.

“Thank you.” You say, walking with him to the wagon and watching as he sets down the boxes in the back.

“Can’t have you always wearing Mary-Beth’s clothes.” He says, turning back towards you, “Now c’mon, we got one more stop.”

“What’s that?” You ask, fully thinking you were done.

“The stables.” He says, pointing past you to where the stables were. You blinked, not sure what to say. They were getting you a horse? It made sense, if they wanted you on missions, they’d definitely want you to have a horse. But it all felt like too much, you had already thought they’d spent too much on you today, just by getting you the ‘essentials.’

“I can’t let you buy me a horse.” You say, crossing your arms.

“Who said anything about buying a horse? I’m letting you take one of mine.” He chuckles, grabbing onto his buckle and peering down at you.

“You have multiple horses?” You ask, looking back at the stables.

“Just the two, June and Cash. June’s my main horse, so it’ll be nice to get Cash out of the stables.” He says before making a ‘after you’ gesture towards the stables. You take the hint, falling into step and heading in that direction.

“What kinda horse is Cash?” You ask, turning around to talk to Arthur while walking backwards.

“American Paint, now will you watch where you’re going?” He laughs, yanking your arm to keep you from bumping into the butcher stand. “Alright, alright.” You put your hands up in surrender and turn around, walking the rest of the way to the stables.

“It’s you!” The stable hand greets, looking at Arthur. “And you’ve brought a lady friend.” He nods to you before looking back to him, “You here for Cash?”

“Yep.” Arthur says, prompting the stable hand to clap and smile.

“That’s a good horse. Wait here, I’ll get him for you.” The stable hand disappears deeper into the stables before resurfacing with a gorgeous horse. You smiled wide, looking between Arthur and the horse. He was indeed an American Paint horse, with beautiful midnight black fur and a white splatter over its whole body. His mane was black and white as well, alternating colors as the hair cascaded down its strong neck. One of his eyes was blue, the other was brown as they stared at you and Arthur, nickering softly.

“Oh he’s beautiful!” you clasp your hands together, gasping and running a hand down his shiny coat, it was obvious this stable hand took good care of these horses, a fact you were grateful for, being a horse lover yourself. Arthur comes around to stand behind you as you scratch behind Cash’s ear, watching with a smile before motioning to the stablehand.

“I left my old saddle here with Cash, you wouldn’t happen to still have it, would you?” He asks.

“Of course, let me go grab it.”

You watched as Arthur tacked up Cash, eyes fixated on the movement in his strong arms when he rolled his sleeves up to his elbow. You watched the meticulous way his hands clasped each buckle and adjusted each strap. You wanted those hands on you again, around your waist, sliding up your leg, tangling in your hair, exploring your chest; you wanted it all. You blushed, looking away and at your hands as they buttoned and unbuttoned your satchel, keeping busy.

“Alright.” Arthur pats Cash’s neck before turning to you, “He’s all good to go.”

You smile, giddily, before skipping up to the horse and rubbing his nose.

“He’s perfect, thank you Arthur.” You turn, practically jumping into his arms and pulling him into a hug, your face rests against his chest

“Woah! Alright, alright.” He pats your back, nodding and hiding a smile. You let go, turning to lead Cash out of the stable.

“Thank you!” You call behind you to the stable hand.

“Of course! Come back anytime!” He replies, going back to whatever he was doing, which looked like restocking treats.

Arthur gives a wave before turning to walk with you and Cash, the sun was setting across the way, painting the sky a beautiful orange and you turn to Arthur, an idea settling in your head.

“How much money do we have left?” You ask, eyes flicking to the hotel across the street.

“Well, since we didn’t buy you a horse, quite a lot.” He says, gaze following yours and he pauses, “Why?”

“Why don’t we get a couple rooms at the hotel? We can get baths, sleep in an actual bed… c’mon! It’ll be nice.” You plead, clasping your hands together for emphasis. “Please please please?”

He thinks for a moment, sighing as he looks at you. You watch something inside him crumble away before he’s nodding and holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. You don’t gotta beg.”

“Yes!” You pump your fist in the air before picking up your pace and clicking your tongue to get Cash to hurry with you. When you arrive at the hotel and hitch Cash, Arthur tells you he was gonna bring the wagon around back, to rent a couple rooms, and he would meet you inside when he was done.

“Two rooms and two baths please.” You slide a couple coins to the hotel manager, he takes them and nods.

“We’ll get those baths going for you and here are the keys to your rooms.” He hands you the keys and you thank him, nodding in his direction and stepping back to wait for Arthur. The hotel manager disappears into one of the rooms in the hallway behind him, and you guessed he was getting your bath ready. The bell above the door jingles and you turn to see Arthur back from moving the wagon.

You toss him a key, he catches it and nods a thanks.

“You care if I take my bath first?” You ask, leaning back on the counter as you watch him. He nods.

“Sure. I’ll be up in my room then.” He nods to you before heading up the stairs and disappearing. You watch him leave before turning back to the counter as the manager arrives back around the corner.

“Miss? Your bath is ready now.”

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You flop down onto your bed, images of Arthur flashing in your head as you pull off your boots. He had to be in the bath by now and Jesus, did you wish you were in there with him. You could imagine holding his shoulders as you lowered down on him, pulling those groans and grunts from his lips and you slid up and sand back down. You press your palms into your eyes, you had never been sexually frustrated before, having had sex only once in your life with the stable boy down the street when you were eighteen. You had never craved it, never had a reason to think about it until now. But with Arthur in your life, with his hands on your lower back, guiding you through town, or holding your waist as he hoists you onto his horse, there wasn’t much else you could think about.

You lift your hips and slide your skirt down your legs before adding your button-up and blouse to the pile on the floor and you’re left standing in your shift and bloomers. You carefully take off Mary-Beth’s necklace, setting it on your bedside before you place the pillow over your face and yell, trying to get your frustration out to no avail. You toss the pillow back behind you, rolling over on your tummy to the edge of the bed and grabbing your new satchel. You run your fingers over the floral design, mind drifting back to Arthur once again. You hoped he wanted you too, with the way he kissed you, held you, or hell, even talked to you made you think that maybe he did. A little voice in your conscious tells you there’s only one way to find out but you push that thought to the back of your mind. That’d be crazy, right?

But what if it wasn’t? What if you could have what you wanted just by going for it? You sit up, eyes drifting to the door across the room. His room was right next to yours, it’d take nothing to just slip out of here and into there. You stand, sliding your socks across the floor as you peek out the peephole. There was nobody in the hallway, Arthur was still downstairs, this was your chance.

You suck in a breath, cracking open your door, slipping through and trying the handle to Arthur’s room. The door creaks open and you slip through, not quite believing what you were doing. What if he rejected you? Told you to go back to your room and ruin whatever relationship the two of you had?

You could hear his boots coming up the stairs now, it was too late for second thoughts.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Notes:

I hope you guys stick around for the next chapter, things are gonna get spicy.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist (comment to be on it):

@sprite-real

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x fem!reader #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption #dutch van der linde #rdr2 community #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader

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messrmoonyy · 6 months

Text

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl.

Unfortunately you were no different.

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you.

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover.

But no.

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel.

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked.

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday.

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde.

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest.

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin.

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either.

And today was no different.

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed.

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others.

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return.

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s.

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling.

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way.

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard.

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better.

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself.

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh.

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “

You.

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you.

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks.

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch.

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away.

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors.

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you.

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men.

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged.

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours.

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company.

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both.

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods.

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little.

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away.

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another.

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette.

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you.

Someone was finally listening.

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were.

He blamed it on his fatigue.

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been.

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked.

“ Really? “

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours.

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded.

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded.

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen.

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him.

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done.

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were.

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman.

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank.

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool.

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little.

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it.

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest. His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment.

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you.

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice.

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more.

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating.

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his.

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless.

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face.

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you.

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which.

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain.

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch.

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought.

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt.

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night.

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly.

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants.

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates.

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous.

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon.

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted.

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough.

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now.

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t.

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you.

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water.

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch.

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them.

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care.

“ I ain’t like that “

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants.

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison.

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved.

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw.

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were.

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it.

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did.

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make.

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance.

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “

“ no “

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked.

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him.

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again.

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you.

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to.

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs.

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you.

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other.

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate.

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew.

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted.

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired.

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it.

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him.

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined.

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips.

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first.

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars.

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well.

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair.

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks.

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once.

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell.

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra.

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little.

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers.

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted.

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips.

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly.

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it.

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back.

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him.

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily.

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh.

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might.

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch.

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm.

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you.

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing.

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed.

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him.

“ god- oh god “

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again.

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there.

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide.

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it.

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up.

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours.

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you.

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep.

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked.

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word.

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans.

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever.

And then he came to his senses.

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist.

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours.

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more.

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers.

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips.

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least.

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more.

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “

He sincerely hoped you would.

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