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vanderlindde · 5 days ago

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Dirty Little Secret

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Summary: Dutch isn’t the best partner. Always leaving you unsatisfied, uncared for, and lonely. Arthur’s more than willing to fill in some gaps.

WC: 2.9k

Tags: m/f, f!reader, smut with a smidge of plot, mutual obsession, cheating, drunk sex, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, praise kink, creampie, fingering, pet names, slight aftercare,

A/N: This is my first fanfic so any advice to improve would be appreciated! This is also a 2 part work so Dutch’s part will be coming up (brace for impact). This is also posted on ao3 under @/vanderlindde.

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Being Dutch Van Der Linde’s lapdog had its perks—til they didn’t. Though, lapdog was an overstatement, more of a prized trophy. A trophy encased behind glass; a trophy that collected dust until Dutch would shine you new again just to show you off. He often showered you with jewels and expensive clothes. Though no amount of expenses could ever pay off the cost of pleasure he owed you.

Dutch wasn’t a man to pleasure. Everything shared by him was solely for his pleasure. From every blowjob you gave him, to every penny he spent on you. He reveled in the fact that everything you owned was his doing.

The camp pitied you, all treating you like some kid with a scraped knee.

But not Arthur Morgan.

Arthur saw through your high class facade. He saw through the broken prized-pony label that everyone seemed to place on you.

He took the time to know you. Your likes, your dislikes, what made you tick. He’d keep you company. He’d take you on short trips to Valentine, hunting trips, or even simple rides on his horse if it would cheer you up.

Time—time was what he gave you. Something far more valuable than any blood-covered jewel Dutch would bring you.

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It was a busy evening, most of the gang gone on a heist. Arthur had just arrived back to camp, trudging towards Pearson’s station to drop off a buck carcass. Taking a quick glance around camp, he notices Dutch’s open tent. Empty, he notes. His mind immediately goes to you.

Finding you down by the lake, he approaches you. Upon hearing the sound of crunching rocks, you turn your head to be met with Arthur’s gaze.

“Shit, I meant to surprise ya,” He says sheepishly as his hand jerks to hand you a dainty gold bracelet from his satchel. “found this, thought you’d like it.”

Knowing Arthur, it was likely that “finding it” meant he stole it. Nevertheless, you took it into your hand and offered a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Unlike Dutch, at least Arthur thought about that you’d like when robbing. Dutch would often pick whatever looked the most expensive. While Arthur would only take what he knew was to your style. The man in front of you frowned.

“Slow day?” He drawls, trying to make conversation. You nod, your finger tracing along the curve of the jewelry. “You wanna… go for a ride?” He rocks back and forth on his worn boots. You shake your head, your gaze glued to the bangle in your lap. You hear him sigh then mutter something under his breath, “C’mon now, you can’t be sittin’ around, mopin’ all day” He mutters, a hint of irritation in his tone now. You finally look up with a bothered expression. Arthur fucking Morgan, a persistent man he was.

“What did you have in mind?” You give in.

He smiles victoriously to himself before shrugging his shoulders. “Could get a drink down at the saloon?”

You glance over at the gleaming water beside you as if pondering the suggestion. You then look back up at Arthur and nod. He nods back and offers his hand to help you off the boulder you perched on.

On the way, Arthur talked your ear off, exchanging stories from his hunting trip today. You listened and held onto his waist tighter as he pulled into town. He hitched his horse just in front of the bustling building. Once off, he helps you down and escorts you inside.

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A few drinks in and you felt every nerve in your body become sensitive. Every low, grumbling laugh from Arthur sent shivers down your spine. Every brush of his fingers against yours lit your senses on fire. Every lingering look from him said more than what either of you could ever say. You felt it, and you had a feeling he did too.

Though Arthur knew better. He knew you weren’t his to claim or his to even think about in the ways that he did.

Every sip of alcohol consumed by you made Arthur nervous. He noticed your flushed cheeks and how your sentences strung together like one big word. Signs he knew all too well that indicated that you were drunk.

Drunk you was never a good sign.

“Alright now, let’s get you back. Can’t have ‘ol Dutch worryin’ about his girl, now can we?” He says, patting your shoulder. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the mention of Dutch. Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but to you, it seemed he looked annoyed for even thinking about Dutch as well.

“I ain’t no one’s girl.” You spat, shrugging his hand off more harshly than intended.

“That so?” Arthur challenged. Even a fool could catch onto the slight innuendo in his voice. You hum a quick mhm and take a sip from your almost-empty glass in attempt to draw attention away from the slight blush on your cheeks.

“I think that’s enough for you,” His hand cups your smaller one wrapped around the glass.

“Let go.” Your fingers tighten as you inch it towards yourself.

“Or what?” His voice drops an octave.

The air suddenly grew thick; neither of you moved, or even breathed. You could’ve sworn Arthur licked his lips, but before you could give it another thought, he takes advantage of your distraction and pulls the glass away from you. He slams it onto the bar with a few coins and escorts you back out the bar.

“I’m a grown woman, y’know. I can handle myself.” You say, your voice raised and irritated.

“I ain’t say you wasn’t.” He replies in his usual smug tone as he helps you up onto his horse.

The silence back to camp was deafening; the pair of you too polite to interrupt the choir of crickets beneath you. Arthur then musters up the courage to say,

“It’s uh, lil’ chilly tonight. You reckon yer whiny ass’ll get through the night?” He attempted to end the quip with a smug chuckle but ends up choking on his spit. He quickly clears his throat, praying you didn’t mention it.

He glances over his shoulder to see you resting on his back. Suspecting that you had fallen asleep, he continues to ride in silence.

Alcohol still fogged your brain; you weren’t thinking straight. Your breath brushed the hairs along the nape of his neck. Arthur froze, his body rigid. You took the oppertunity to kiss the side of his neck. He shudders but doesn’t say anything. You couldn’t tell if he had even noticed so you tested the waters further. Your lips press against the same spot, this time firmer.

“What’re tryin’ to do to me, woman?” He groans.

You don’t stop there. Your tongue darts out to lick him softly.

“Dutch, he’ll kill us, y’know.”

“How many more times are you gonna bring him up tonight?” You pull away to interrupt. Arthur doesn’t dare to bite back, he just lets you continue to graze your soft lips against his neck. He never wanted this moment to end. It was as if—at least for a moment—he believed there was a god and he was finally in his good graces.

“Jesus..” He mutters, moaning as he feels you start to suck his neck now. His mind swirled with thoughts between Dutch’s fury if he were to find out about this and how bad Arthur needed you now.

Your body jolts as you feel the horse suddenly stop and pull off onto the side of the trail.

“Arthur?”

“Down, now.”

You hesitate. “What?”

“Get off.”

Reluctantly, you get off the tall horse. You didn’t know what to expect. Maybe he was going to scold you, or make you walk all the way back to camp.

Arthur gets off the horse swiftly right after you. Before you could react, his hand grabs hold of the side of your neck as his lips crash against yours. You don’t even mind the fact your head had hit the tree behind you. All that was on your mind was the fact that he was kissing you.

You pull away to take a breather, Arthur making a small sound at the loss of touch.

The kiss ignited something in him, like his soul had just been sucked out of his prisonous body and shown the wonders of freedom.

For you, that one kiss had provided everything you’ve ever craved—connection, mutuality, affection.

“You ain’t know how long I’ve waited to do that.” His voice wavers slightly. He pulls you back in, lips interlocking with yours once more.

He groans into your mouth, his neediness and touch depravity soaking into the kiss. His hand tugs at your skirt, wanting you impossibly closer. He drops to his knees in front of you.

“Take it off, please.” That please was laced with utter desperation that was visible through the depths of his eyes.

You take no time in remove your skirts, the clothes dropping to the floor without care. You remove your blouse too, the frilly white piece joining the others in the dirt. Arthur props your thigh onto his shoulder, your dripping pussy inches from his face. He gives you one final look—a look that both sought out consent and a mutual need. With a nod of your head, Arthur’s tongue trails to lick up the juices gushing from your slit.

“Fuckin’ hell, you taste like heaven.” He murmurs against you. The combination of the rough stubble on his chin and the rumbling of his voice was pure bliss. Straining cries leave your throat; you couldn’t help but take advantage of the empty fields and the trees that obscured you from any possible travelers.

Arthur was utterly lost in you. Lost in the satisfaction of the two of you finally giving into each other.

His hand reached up to palm your tit while the other joined alongside his mouth. He pulled off to watch his digits as they parted your swollen folds. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched in awe. The calloused pads of his fingers slid up and down your slick before dipping into you slowly. His eyes dart up to marvel at your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your breathless moans might’ve been enough to make him cum his pants.

“That’s it darlin’, feel good?”

You nod.

“I ain’t hear you,” He says, wanting the conformation fall from the very lips he loved so much.

“Yes—god, yes it feels good” You gasped, fingers curling into his hair.

His fingers curled in and out of you; at the same time he altered between flicking his tongue at your clit and sucking it.

“Please, let me fuck you.” He begs, words sloppy and slurred as he continued to fuck his tongue into in your pussy.

“C’mere,” You say, attempting to even out your breathing.

Arthur sets your leg back onto the floor, your knees weak—even a small gust of wind could knock you down. He then stands before you, removing his shirt hastily before undoing his belt buckle with awkward hands. Your eyes feast on his tan, muscular physique as he undressed. A trail of dark hair sprinkled his lower stomach, a bush of hairs slowly unveiling as he pulls down his pants. He hooks his thumbs under the waistbands of his pants and underwear enough to have his cock spring out. Your eyes widen at his length, then back up at Arthur. His cock had a slight curve, thick all around, veins that ran along the sides, and the tip a throbbing pinkish color. He stares back with a bashful expression.

“Somethin’ the matter?”

“No, it’s just I ain’t expect.. that.” You let out a shaky exhale.

He chuckles at your shock. “I’ll go slow darlin’, don’t you worry now.” He says gently.

He flips you so your back was to him and your front pressed against the rough bark of the tree. His knee nudges your own to further spread your legs while his large hand presses on your lower back to make you arch. His touch was demanding yet reassuring and gentle. His other hand strokes his cock as he lines it up with your spit soaked cunt. He runs his tip up and down your slit teasingly.

“Damn it, Morgan,” You moan desperately. You squirm in attempt to fuck yourself onto his dick. Though Arthur acts accordingly; he pushes your hips forward just enough for you to press into the tree further. Your hardened nipples scrape against the wood, and though painful, you couldn’t find yourself to pull away.

“You can be patient, can’t you girl?” You could practically hear the smirk plastered across his face.

“Wasn’t you just on your knees askin’ please to fuck me?”

“I was just bein’ a gentleman, sweetheart.” He pushes his hips just enough for your pussy to envelop the tip of his cock.

You mewl; your hips involuntarily moving to make a futile attempt to push just another inch in. Arthur groans at the sight. Your eagerness reflected his inner turmoil that urged him to fuck you like tomorrow won’t arrive.

You suddenly feel his cock stretch you out. His head dips down to moan deeply into your neck. Strong hands hold you in place as his cock eases into you—not yet taking you down to the base. Wood chips crumble to the ground as your fingers dug into the birch. He pulls out just enough so that his tip remained in you.

“Deep breaths, girl,” Arthur coos. You let out a shaky breath to compose yourself.

With a snap of his hips, Arthur thrusts his full length into you, catching you off guard.

A noise escapes your throat, a wail that any passing rider would mistake for a wounded animal.

“You can take it,” Arthur grunts as he sets the pace of his thrusts. He smirks to himself as he feels you clench around him at the praise. “Such a good girl for me, ain’t ya?” His hand delivers a sharp smack onto your ass before coming up to knead your tit. Your nipple, now raw from the friction of the tree, is pinched between Arthur’s fingers as he gropes you.

Your hand slithers around to fist Arthur’s hair, tugging him immensely closer. Gladly taking the invitation, he kisses and sucks ever so softly, careful not to leave any marks. It frustrated the both of you to remember the consequences you’d both face after this. Although the idea of going back to Dutch after being fucked by Arthur like this was riveting.

Arthur reaches around to rub your clit. His middle finger runs up and down your sensitive nub slowly. He then takes his large hand and cups your mound, creating a comforting warmth. He keeps it there, his even thrusts never ceasing. You feel his stubble tickle up and down your neck before settling at your ear as he nibbles on your lobe, whispering sweet nothing’s as he does.

“Doin’ real good for me, baby.”

“Takin’ this cock so well.”

“Does that feel good?”

Your breath becomes heavier, shortened. You knew it was a telltale sign that you were close. So was Arthur it seemed; small whimpers emitted from his throat as much as he tried to quieten them.

“Oh fuck’s sake, I—“

“Don’t pull out.” You say with a hint of hesitation. Arthur sensed it—that ever so small sliver of hesitation from you.

“Oh baby, don’t say that unless you really mean it.” Arthur groans desperately, huffing softly into your shoulder. Such simple words were enough to send him tumbling over like a fool.

“I mean it, cum in me.” You repeat, this time without any hidden implication.

Filled with regained enthusiasm, Arthur’s hips moved with a mind of their own. His movements becoming erratic and uneven as he rutted into you. The crisp night air filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and passionate moans.

Finally removing his cupped hand from your mound, your clit tingles as the cool air hits. Arthur runs a finger up and down your sensitized nub, smirking to himself as you cried from the overstimulation. Your knees buck under you as the dual sensation of his cock bruising your cervix and your tender clit being rubbed overload your senses.

You call out his name in a feverish cry as you cum on his dick. He holds you in place, to both ensure you didn’t stumble onto the ground and to keep you still to cum in you.

“Jus’ a little longer baby, can you do that for me?” He grunts as his hips stutter until he finally spills inside you.

He moans your name like a prayer as he leaves himself pressed against you, breathing down your neck. He inhales the tangy scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air.

Arthur pulls his softening cock out, groaning at the sight of your mixed arousals spilling from your gaping hole. To him, it was one—if not the—prettiest sight he’s ever seen.

“You done good, girl.” He lets out a deep exhale to even out his breath. He pulls up his drawers and pants as you turn to face him. He picks up your earlier forgotten skirts and dusts off the excess dirt. He helps you to slip into them.

Once you both looked presentable to return to the road, Arthur gives you one last look over . He drinks in the sight of you in your long, modest skirt, knowing that just underneath hid a dirty little secret.

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