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punctatum · 3 days ago

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Best of Both Worlds (Part 2)

Summary: After John finds you in the woods fucking Arthur (read part 1 🤭), jealousy and a desire to punish you consumes him until he finally acts. Until then, you and Arthur can't help but wonder if John has found out and worry about what he might have planned.

Pairings: arthur x f!reader x john (eventual threesome teehee)

Word count: 3,105

Warnings/Tags: 18+ (mdni), dub-con-ish?, female reader using she/her pronouns, jealousy, rough sex, punishment sex, oral, spit roast threesome, slapping and hitting, degrading language, unprotected p in v, creampie, def just pretending that this doesn't lead to pregnancy in the late 1800s, John/Arthur secretly watching you again, poor communication, angst or uncertainty I guess? fwb situation

Pictures are from Pinterest!

Consumed by the jealousy rising within him, John hardly noticed when he unzipped his pants and found his hand stroking his hardened member. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill Arthur with his bare hands or keep watching as Arthur fucked you senseless. God, the little noises you were trying so hard to stifle, the way you fully submitted to him, bent over on your hands and knees in the dirt, your legs shaking, hardly holding you up. It was almost too much for him to handle. John stifled a moan when Arthur picked up the pace and you collapsed onto your forearms, face screwing up with pleasure as he fucked you roughly.

“That’s a good girl” Arthur cooed, his lust-driven hands grabbing a handful of your ass after delivering a hard slap to your rear. “You gonna cum for me, sweet thing?” he asked, voice low and sinful.

“I’m so... close!” you stammered, hardly remembering to breathe as your mind disappeared into a lust-filled fog, thickening by the second, just like the creamy arousal you had been smearing all over Arthur’s member.

“That’s right, girl, cum all over this cock” Arthur commanded, his face beginning to twist, signaling his own orgasm barreling toward him.

John, still watching from the darkness, picked up the pace of his hand, reaching levels of arousal he had never known before as precum completely coated his length. His balls were growing heavy, begging for release, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last watching you.

Arthur couldn’t last much longer either, finally letting out a growly moan as his hips faltered and his seed began spilling inside of you. The feeling of him coating your walls was enough to send you over the edge, Arthur’s name leaving your mouth as an incoherent, breathy babble. John choked back a moan as he leaned against a nearby tree, hot cum spurting out onto the ground beneath him. As you and Arthur lay in the dirt, trying to catch your breaths, John cleaned himself up, tucking his member back in his pants.

Despite the blissful, post-orgasmic feeling still running through him, the jealousy within him was quickly boiling until hatred, the primary target of his emotions being you rather than Arthur. “What an ungrateful little whore” he thought. “Taking this dick damn near everyday just wasn’t enough for her, huh?” He wanted to slap that sleepy, relaxed look right off of your face as Arthur began to clean you up. But no, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. You deserved a punishment worse than the embarrassment of being caught red-handed.

The next morning you awoke and began your daily chores, mind consumed with memories of the night before. You wondered when you would be able to get Arthur alone again. As you began to empty ingredients into the stew pot, you noticed John’s horse hitched to a post nearby. “I wonder how the robbery went” you thought, picking up a wooden spoon to mix the concoction together. “I’m sure I could reward him nicely for his earnings.” Your mind was quickly falling deeper into the gutter as you felt a pang of desire beginning to build in your belly. Christ, the sun had hardly risen and all you could think about was the two men you were secretly fucking. You were sure that somewhere in the depths of hell a spot was being marked with your name in big, bold letters.

You continued your chores, wondering when John would awake. Eventually, you heard a rustling from his tent. When the flaps opened, John gave you a glance before letting a flaring breath out of his nostrils and quickly walking off in the other direction. “Weird,” you thought, “last night must not have gone as well as he hoped.” You and John were certainly trying to keep things under wraps, but it wasn’t typical that he flat-out ignored you. John mounted his horse and rode off, skipping his usual morning coffee. “Surely he couldn’t have found out about last night… he wasn’t even here. Arthur went to bed right after and John just woke up moments ago, so there’s no way they could’ve discussed it.”

A few hours later, Arthur returned to camp, having left before you had risen to hunt some game. Having finished most of your chores, you decided to help Arthur with the buck he had shot.

“Mornin’” Arthur greeted.

“Good mornin’ for huntin’?” you asked, helping Arthur hoist the large animal off of his horse.

“Beautiful. One to remember, that’s for sure” he replied, turning to looking you dead in the eyes, a hint of mischief in his own as he gave you a light smirk, hoping you would pick up on his double meaning.

You had to remind yourself to keep breathing as you held his stare. What you wouldn’t do to have him undress you again right then and there. As you began to help him carry the buck to the table nearby you nearly tripped over the ground.

“Careful, girl” Arthur said, voice low and rumbling.

As you began to help Arthur prepare the meat, you saw John ride into camp. This time when he saw you, his gaze held a little longer, his eyebrows beginning to knit themselves inward until his face bore a fixed glare. His eyes may as well have been shooting daggers.

Tying up his horse, John began to stalk over, looking fixed to kill. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest. He stopped short of you at the fire, aggressively scooping stew into a cast aside bowl, the ladle hitting the sides of the pot with force with each scoop. Then he plopped down on a log nearby, picked up a spoon, and began to wolf down the warm bowl. Arthur had noticed the look he had given you and the way he was eating as if the stew itself had offended him. Arthur too began to wonder if John’s demeanor had anything to do with the events of the night prior, but dismissed the thought, supposing the robbery hadn’t gone as planned.

As Arthur continued to cut off sections of meat, you couldn’t stand the silent wondering anymore. You tentatively walked over to the fire, placing a hand on his shoulder, John’s back toward you as he sat, hunched over his food. John stiffened at your touch, pausing his chewing for just a second before resuming. Arthur couldn’t help but watch the two of you between making cuts in the meat.

“Rough night?” you asked, trying not to let your voice tremble.

“You could say that” John replied gruffly.

Your heart caught in your chest again. “Surely he can’t know” you thought, trying to reassure yourself. Your hand began to sweat and you prayed that it wouldn’t soak through John’s shirt as you kept your palm fixed on his shoulder.

After a slight pause to steady yourself, you replied, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

John continued to eat, seeming to ignore your consolation. After an agonizing period of silence, John reached around to grab your free hand, pulling your ear next to his mouth before whispering roughly in your ear, “Meet me by the big oak tree near the water after dark.” You were glad your hand had remained on his shoulder, allowing you to catch your balance as he released you sharply. You swallowed a big lump in your throat, but felt a sense of relief, hoping that John’s mood would be resolved and your questions answered after a night in the woods with him.

You took a silent breath and began to walk back over to the table where Arthur was nearly done preparing the meat, starting to hang the sections he had cut to dry. Arthur didn’t appreciate John’s manhandling of you, but didn’t feel confronting John in his current state would go over particularly well. Instead he looked over to you, studying your body and expression before asking, “You alright?” his voice nearly a whisper to keep John from overhearing.

“Yeah, I’m alright” you answered softly, your eyes staring off into space as your mind played over the interaction you just had.

You were relieved to see John cast aside his now-empty flatware and quickly storm back to his horse, mounting the animal once again and riding away from camp.

“I think you and I should have a talk later, ideally before Marston begins to cut you limb from limb near the big oak tree” Arthur replied, putting an emphasis on the last bit.

You felt your stomach drop again. “You heard that?” you whispered, wondering if Arthur now realized he wasn’t the only man you were doing.

“There’s not much I don’t hear, woman, and I can’t help beginning to wonder if the same is true of John” Arthur sighed. “After I wrap up a few more things, why don’t you meet me at that very spot. Decide what we should do.”

A few hours passed and the sun had almost set, each minute feeling an eternity as you waited for the moment Arthur would be ready to talk, begging that John wouldn’t return before then and see you slinking off to meet him. You couldn’t help but nervously glance in the direction John had departed, feeling a sick knot progressively twisting in your stomach.

Finally, you saw Arthur walk through camp, catching your eyes and cocking his head toward the woods. You waited a moment and glanced around, making sure nobody would notice you following him before you trailed after him toward your meeting spot. But before you had reached the safety of the treeline, you saw John riding into camp, his eyes immediately finding you. You sucked down a big gulp, heart beginning to hammer inside your chest. John quickly tied up his horse and discreetly made his way to you, being sure not to draw attention from the others. He grabbed your upper arm and began to pull you toward the forest.

“Forget dark, I need you now” John said, voice heavy with lust.

He didn’t appear angry, though. Perhaps he didn’t know after all. Your momentary relief was quickly interrupted when you remembered that Arthur was in the very spot John was dragging you toward. “Shit shit shit. If John didn’t know before he’ll put the pieces together now. Maybe Arthur will have some excuse as to why he’s over there.” Your mind was racing, and for the first time in years, you even considered praying. Who knows how John would react? You don’t think he would kill Arthur, maybe just scruff him up, but you? Oh lord above, you feared the most what John would do to you, despite the fact that you never claimed the two of you would be exclusive. You were slightly ashamed to admit the pool of slick that was beginning to develop at the thought of John punishing you.

As the big tree came into sight, you were relieved to see that Arthur was nowhere in sight. He must have seen the two of you coming. You weren’t sure if you hoped that Arthur was hidden somewhere in the brush nearby, keeping watch over you, or if you hoped that he had returned to camp, sparing you the embarrassment of knowing Arthur would see whatever might shortly take place.

John quickly pinned you against the tree, lips immediately finding yours, devouring them with passion. Your hands found his hair as John began to feel up your body, kneading the skin on your thighs, your waist, your breasts.

“Do you understand the things you do to me?” John asked lustfully. Without warning, John turned you around and began pooling up your skirts. He yanked down your undergarments and quickly unzipped his pants. Pulling out his hardened length, he quickly inserted himself with no warning, your cunt already soaked. You yelped at the sudden feeling of his cock inside of you, grasping the tree trunk to balance yourself. John pushed down on your back, bending you over, and began fucking you at a back-breaking pace. “You like being fucked like a whore?” John chastised. All you could do was let out a guttural moan in response, praying that Arthur wasn’t watching.

“Answer me, slut” John chided, delivering a quick slap to your rear, followed by a second.

“Yes, god, yes!” you cried in return.

“Only for me, yeah?” John tested.

Your breath caught as you considered how to respond, the nervousness that had been crowded out by lust slowly seeping back into the pit of your stomach.

You replied a beat late, “Yes, John, only you!”

John wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling you upright, back against his chest. He began pistoning in and out of you with a force you hadn't experienced before.

“Really? And is that why I saw you choking on Arthur’s dick last night?”

You felt like all time stopped for a moment. You were too stunned to speak, and too fucked out to even think of the words to respond. All you could do was whimper and moan as his cock continued to hit all the right spots within you, his balls smacking against you harshly.

When you didn't answer him, John delivered a firm slap to the front of your cunt. “Can't even answer me, huh? What a naughty fucking whore.” John pushed your neck back toward the tree, bending you over again. His fingers began to draw circles on your clit, sending you into disoriented bliss, hardly able to remember what was going on as pleasure began to completely overwhelm your senses. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, John called “Why don't you come on out of there, Arthur?” Turning back to you he said, “I know he's been watching. I saw him slink into the woods when I was approaching camp. And see the thing is, y/n, I'm not fucking stupid. I know you were headed here to meet him. Whaddya say both of us do you at the same time? I bet you’d fucking love it, you filthy slut.”

You couldn't deny the way your cunt tightened at the suggestion. Arthur had indeed been watching from a few yards away, at first to ensure John wouldn't actually hurt you, and then because it was just so damn hot watching John fuck you. The hair had raised up on Arthur’s arms when John called out to him, but after hearing his invitation and seeing what it did to you, his balls felt heavier than they ever had.

You didn't even realize Arthur had come out of the brush and bent down in front of you before you felt his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him as he asked, “Would you like that pretty girl?”

All you could manage was a loud, desperate moan in return. You reached out a hand to claw at his pants, his thick, hardened member calling out to you, forming a huge tent in his work pants. Arthur groaned a bit when you touched the tip through his clothing, and then quickly began to unbutton his pants and take down his suspenders. When enough clothing had been undone, his cock finally sprang free, hitting his stomach with a smack, leaving a splotch of precum on his shirt.

One hand still on the tree trunk to support you, you reached out your other hand to stroke his manhood, smearing precum down his length. You tried to maneuver your head to take him in your mouth, but found you weren't able to reach and support yourself, John still taking you from behind.

“Wanna get down on your hands and knees pretty girl? Would that make it easier to fuck you like the whore you are?” John teased, slowing down his thrusts.

Without waiting for your reply, John pulled out and the men helped you lower yourself to the ground, limbs shaking as you tried to move your fucked out body. They joined you on the ground kneeling on either side of you. John quickly reinserted himself and grabbed your hips roughly, beginning his relentless pace inside of you.

Your cry was stifled by Arthur’s cock being plunged into your open mouth, causing you to moan even harder around him. Every thrust from John forced Arthur further into your mouth. You could feel your arousal beginning to drip into the dirt, you were so fucking turned on.

Arthur’s let his head fall backward, mouth falling open, letting out little grunts and moans as you began to swirl your tongue around him.

“That's a good girl” Arthur praised, voice low and heavy. He bunched up your hair into his fist, hips beginning to thrust lightly into your mouth. The wet dream turned reality of the two outlaws fucking you from either side was eventually too much for you to take, John’s cock hitting that perfect place inside of you. You felt white hot heat rushing through your body, an astonishingly loud moan coming from your throat involuntarily. Arthur groaned at the vibration it produced around his cock. You felt yourself begin to squirt around John, making John moan in return, as well. The sight would have been frankly pornographic had anyone stumbled upon the three of you, all moaning so fucking sinfully as the two men used you.

“Fucking hell” John moaned, his hips beginning to stutter, eyes screwing shut. Still high in the clouds of your orgasm, you felt John begin to fill you with his release, groaning as he did.

“Shit” Arthur groaned, watching the two of you.

When John finally pulled out of you, Arthur removed himself from your mouth, shuffling to plant himself beside John.

“My turn” he growled lustfully, pushing John out of the way. Arthur quickly inserted himself in you, a mix of John’s release and yours quickly coating him. “I'm not gonna last long” he said gruffly, trying to keep his eyes open so he could watch himself disappearing inside of you, but struggling as the weight of lust was pulling at his eyelids and clouding his vision.

Now it was John's turn to watch you, once again taking in the filthy sight of Arthur fucking you. As Arthur had stated, it wasn't long before he was thrusting into you erratically and even more hot cum was filling your cunt to the brim before he eventually pulled out of you.

Time stood still for a moment as you all caught your breaths, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure radiating through you all.

Eventually Arthur said, “Fuck Marston, why didn't you invite me sooner?”

“I suppose cause I fucked her first, Morgan. I wasn't too keen on sharing her until I saw you pounding the slut. So god damn hot, isn't she? Letting us ruin her?” John replied.

“Damn sure.” Arthur answered.

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punctatum · 3 days ago

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Best of Both Worlds (Part 1)

Summary: A late night confession transforms into a fwb relationship with Marston. John’s ideas of about the exclusiveness of this arrangement are revealed to be starkly different than yours, however, when he discovers you with Arthur, jealousy consuming him as he watches Arthur pound you relentlessly in the dark cover of night.

Pairing: john marston x female reader, arthur morgan x female reader

Word count: 2,202

Tags/Warnings: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, cunt slapping, praise kink, jealousy and possessiveness, may call the reader a slut in future parts, friends with benefits situation, john watching you secretly, maybe more i’m not sure

Pictures are from pinterest!

Part 2

The memory of John’s cock pistoning in and out of you was still fresh on your mind. The way his swollen, dripping tip had hit all the right places, the incredible size of him filling you up. The way he gripped your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as the tree trunk behind you gripped at the skin on your back. The way he held your left leg up while you tried not to scream out his name.

You had found yourself alone at the fire one late night when John had taken a seat beside you. Your conversation drifted from old stories to amusing hypotheticals, until it had landed on dreams. It started out innocent, sharing the odd things your slumbering minds had generated, wondering if there was any meaning to it all, until you found yourself sharing a… not so innocent dream of yours.

You weren’t oblivious. You had noticed the way John carried himself, his body and his demeanor, and you’d be lying if you said you’d never had a waking thought about finding yourself alone with him. But your interest in the man had recently come to the forefront of your mind after you awoke in the night, undergarments soaked, a faint memory of what you could only imagine was under John’s clothes still clinging to your mind.

Sitting there by the fire with John, you weren’t quite bold enough yet to admit who your dream was about, just that it had happened, and a confession that you hadn’t been with anyone in a long while. In the silence that followed, you cursed yourself for even thinking of sharing the dream. Hell, your conversation had been so innocent and normal until you had dumped your depraved thoughts on him. But just before you were about to apologize, John replied.

“And who might this dream have been about, pretty lady?” John replied, voice quiet and husky.

If your cheeks weren’t bright red already, they sure were after that question.

“Oh, nobody in particular, just been a while I guess. I’m sorry I even brought it up. I think I should just head to sleep,” you stammered, hands covering your hot cheeks.

But as you rose to your feet to leave, you felt a firm hand gripping your wrist, pulling you back to your seat by the fire. You froze, hardly breathing, waiting, not daring to turn and face him. The hand that had gripped you softened, cautiously releasing you, and made its way ever so slowly, gently, to your inner thigh. You felt John’s warmth against your body as he leaned in closer, lips brushing your neck and ear. “Why don’t we find somewhere more private, pretty girl?” he whispered softly into your ear. The suggestion sent a shiver through your body, not one of fear but one of pure, unadulterated lust.

“Sure” you whispered back, another wave of desire rushing through your body. John dragged his hand so slowly across your thigh it was agonizing, eventually meeting your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and lifting you up out of your seat. He looked around, scouting out a place the two of you could be alone.

When the two of you were hidden away from camp in the shelter of tree trunks, foliage, and the darkness of night, you turned to face him, hesitantly bringing your lips toward his. You hovered, your lips inches, hell, centimeters, away from his until finally something broke inside of you. You took his lips passionately, consumed by your desire, and he responded just as fervently. That first night with John was both eager and gentle. John was careful to hold himself back, taking in the gorgeous sight before him as he fucked you.

After you were done, John helped you clean up and held you close, ensuring you felt safe and satisfied.

“Ya know whenever you wanna tell me who that dream was about, you know where to find me, pretty girl,” John offered before parting ways, each of you returning to your bedding, falling asleep quickly.

Your night with John had been a blessing and a curse. Now, your dreams about John returned nightly, each somehow more intense than the last. You were surprised you hadn’t yet called out for him in your sleep as you sure were chanting his name in your dreams, waking each day to find your undergarments soaked, core aching. Or if you had spoken in your slumber, nobody had admitted it.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself at John’s tent one night, whispering his name. “John, are you awake?”

You heard rustling, the sound of a book cover closing against the pages, tent flaps moving, and were soon met by John’s face close to yours as the moonlight poured over his features, creating shadows in all the right places. His eyes were drawn to your lips, lingering for a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I was just wondering the same of you, pretty girl,” John replied, voice low and seductive.

You blushed and wiped your hands against your clothes, trying to remove the sweat that had quickly gathered on your palms, trying not to think about how close his lips were to yours, how his gaze had lingered, how badly you craved his touch.

“Let’s find somewhere where we can be alone” you whispered in reply. You and John stole a glance around camp, being sure that nobody would see you running off together as you snuck away from camp. You enjoyed keeping this your secret.

“Do I dare ask why you came calling at this hour of the night?” John asked with a smirk as you arrived at another remote spot. “Anything you’d like to… confess?” he asked, teasing.

“Well, I do keep having these dreams. They’re a lot like the first one, same person, except each night they get rougher… hotter… wilder. And I just thought…” you trailed off timidly, cheeks blazing with that same familiar heat, head bowed toward the ground, but wearing a slight smile that curved your lips upward.

John stepped closer, grasping your chin, raising your face to look into his eyes. “And might I ever find out who this person is? It would be an awful shame if those dreams never came true… if you kept that secret to yourself. It’s not good to keep things pent up. Keep yourself aching, longing… dripping….” He accentuated the last word, not so subtly stealing a glance at your clothed area between your legs.

“What makes you so sure those dreams could come true?” you ask, trying not to let John’s remarks completely cloud your mind with lust.

“Just a hunch.” John replied casually, shrugging his shoulders, and then leaning in and planting a slow, passionate kiss on the side of your neck. You couldn’t help the soft moan that slipped out of you as you opened your neck to him, head tipped back, and your hands found their way to his shoulders and hair, trying to find something to stabilize yourself. John slowly began to kiss his way down your chest until before you had even realized it happened he was kneeling on the ground before you, kissing the mound above your core like there was nothing else in this great world he cared about. “Do you want this pretty girl?” he asked, voice heavy and hoarse as he gripped your hips and thighs, grabbing at your skin hungrily. You could only nod your head yes in reply as he lifted your skirts, pulling your undergarments down, lifting your feet through the fabric and tossing it to the side. You felt the night air rushing by your slick and shivered as John lifted your leg to rest on his hip, opening you up to his eager mouth, his warm tongue and breath a heavenly comparison to the chilled breeze. He dove in, this time ravishing you with more passion than your first night in these woods.

He felt your legs shudder and twitch as he worked his tongue against your dripping cunt, the moonlight revealing the sinful sight of your slick running down his chin. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he ran two fingers up and down your core before he gently pushed them in, pumping back and forth. You felt sweat dripping down your neck despite the dropping temperature of the wilderness surrounding you.

“Such a good girl for me, huh?” John praised. “Is that what you dream of, princess? My face buried in your cunt while my fingers fuck you senseless?”

You’re barely able to remain standing, hands gripping John’s head and shoulder for support and the vibration of his words against your core make an intense heat begin to rush to your core, your eyes brimming with tears. When you don’t answer, John removes his mouth and hands to slap your cunt hard, a jolt of lightning running from your head to your toes. “Be a good girl and answer me, huh?” John growls.

Desperate for him to continue his ministrations on your cunt, you cried out breathlessly “Yes, god, yes I’ve dreamed about your fucking cock for weeks!”

John chuckles, heat rushing to his already engorged member, pride filling him. “That’s my good girl” he praises, his tongue and fingers returning to your swollen core. He continued to suck and lick like a man unable to be tamed, trying to drain you for all you had, and that he did. Hot white heat quickly consumed you as you covered his face in your release, not being able to withhold your cries and moans as your legs began to falter, hips bucking wildly. John licked his fingers clean and quickly moved to support your tired figure. He rose to his feet, letting your head rest against his shoulder, fingers slowly stroking your hair. John helped you clean up and gently returned the undergarments he had cast aside, being sure to clean them of debris.

“Shit…” you whispered in awe, eyes still closed, body still vibrating from your release.

“God, I’d love to do that a thousand times over if you’d let me, but I think you need to get to sleep now, pretty lady. Find me here tomorrow night, yeah?” John replied.

“Yeah” you breathed, exhausted, barely hanging onto consciousness as you fought off sleep. John discreetly led you to your bed, bidding you goodnight.

And so your routine had begun, finding John in the late hours of the night, each night becoming rougher, deeper, harder. You told each other about the sick, depraved dreams you had, eager to bestow each fantasy on the other. Though you never spoke of your arrangement, John became especially protective of you around camp and accompanied you into town, stealing glances at that figure of yours every chance he got, cursing himself for not being able to touch you whenever he pleased. John assumed his claim on you, however, even if he never vocalized it. That was until he found out another dirty little secret of yours.

One evening, John had set out on a tip about a robbery, but unbeknownst to you had returned early, finding the home too well guarded with too little a reward promised. John wasn’t the only one you had feasted your eyes on in recent weeks, stealing glances at Arthur’s husky form, wishing so badly to be pinned underneath him, chanting his name. Arthur had returned your looks, always careful, having some idea that you and John may have been sneaking around, though he could never confirm it. You had started to pick up on John’s feelings of possessiveness, so you knew you could never act on these fantasies when he was around. When John announced his plans to spend the night away, you knew this was your chance.

Here you were again, hidden in the woods, your knees in the dirt as Arthur fucked into your mouth, groans falling incessantly from his mouth, belt buckle clinking with each movement. Finally, Arthur couldn’t take it any longer, removing you of your clothes as he lifted you off the ground, pushing himself deep inside your cunt. You welcomed the feeling of a new cock stretching you open, aroused by the thought of a different man inside of you. His groans and praises had you dripping more and more by the second, “That’s a girl… what a good girl… that’s it… you’re alright… take it….”

When John had returned to camp to find your bedding empty, he felt a flicker of possessiveness well up inside of him. “She had better be alone” he thought, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for your absence. “Maybe she just needed to relieve herself or she wanted to watch the stars for a bit,” John reassured himself in an attempt to keep his jealousy at bay.

Little did you know he had found you, crouching in the undergrowth watching from the moment Arthur had unfastened his belt and pants, your lips already swollen from kissing Arthur hungrily moments prior to John’s arrival. John felt the jealousy rising within him, threatening to spill over at any second, though he couldn’t deny the sight made him hard.

Part 2

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punctatum · 4 days ago

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Yeah well I was trying a brush I found

Thinking about create an alt account on twitter to post the full image but idk omg sorry Arthur sorry everyone it looks so messy but hey crumbs jiji

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punctatum · 4 days ago

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Bounty hunters

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

summary: you and arthur go bounty hunting, then get some rest in a hotel and shared bath.

word count: 5.1k

tags: fluff, mildly suggestive, high honor arthur, bounty hunting, established relationship

warnings: mentions of murder and violence

a/n: this took way too long and had to be rewritten and edited way too many times. so i'll post it before i go insane. take it as my comeback here on tumblr. <3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

✮ masterlist

Two piercing eyes of a wanted man stared at you from the poster you held in your hands, once again checking the provided information.

This one was a murderer, said to prey on young beautiful women to whom he, once alone, sliced their throats, then left their bodies in ditches and rivers. Some were very young, barely adults, some prostitutes he took up in the saloons, the rest damsels in distress lost in the wilderness. He would try seducing them first, luring them in as a lover only to strike as a beast; though it was unclear what his motive was. Was it vengeance? Some messed up sense of power and control?

The sheriff of Strawberry told Arthur he'd fled to the mountains once his identity was uncovered, disappearing from the towns he'd get his victims from.

Now you and Arthur were heading North. The chilly morning air grew colder on your skin the more you progressed towards the mountains with snowy caps. You had spent the night camping on the way, and had your trip's motive been forgotten, it would've made a nice retreat.

But 70 dollars was on the criminal's head, and the reward was tempting enough to try. And luckily for Arthur, you were there with him, a young woman fitting all the criteria for the perfect bait.

Not that Arthur was keen on the idea, of course.

In fact, when you first proposed it, he brushed it off as completely unimaginable, saying that if you had a death wish, you might wanna pick a different way to go than by hands of some maniac.

But you were stubborn and claimed that if he didn't allow it, you'd go alone. So, after a few mumbled curses, he reluctantly agreed.

Your plan was reasonable. The whereabouts of the killer weren't clear, and using yourself as a lure seemed smart. Especially with Arthur hiding nearby, ready to strike before you could be harmed. Just knowing he'd be close made you calmer.

You rode alongside the river, birds chirping in the trees while ducks waddled around in the shallows of the crystal clear water. You paused to take the sight in, and for a moment forgot about the paper in your hand.

The morning sunlight was gentle, enough to wake up nature after its slumber, but not too much to the point of hurting your eyes. It was perfect.

“Don' get anywhere outta my plain sight,” Arthur spoke towards you as he ruminated, worry still clouding his mind.

You softly smiled, finding his care endearing. He got into dangerous situations every day, yet couldn't stand seeing you in such circumstances. As if you weren't terrified every time he rode out.

You weren't reckless or inexperienced. You could handle a gun way before you and Arthur had even met. But it wasn't that Arthur underestimated your abilities, you knew that. He just wanted to avoid any harm done to you as much as he possibly could. Sometimes, it seemed like he valued your life more than his own.

“I'm not an amateur Arthur, not planning to get killed today either,” you reassured him kindly, knowing very well the answer would hardly calm him.

You were getting close now, and you felt as though the air had thickened with suspense. As if there was a cougar holed up in these mountains instead of a man, grazing its teeth for your flesh specifically.

You shoved the poster back in your satchel and blew warm air into your palms, your coat being barely enough to shield you from the growing coolness.

Arthur noticed and gave you another worried look. “Yer cold. Lemme give you my—”

“No, no,” you interrupted him, your focus now fixated on the hills before you. Spots of snow lay between the grass. “I think we're here. I'm actually...” you started taking your coat off, “gon' play the damsel in distress to the maximum, make myself seem vulnerable.”

You didn't even have to look at Arthur to know he was frowning.

“And won't even have to play bein' sick, if ya go like that,” he gestured towards your bare forearms with his hand, watching as you shivered. You couldn't hide a smile, moved by his concern.

“Just take my weapons, will ya?” you said as you took off your gun belt, then hopped down and grabbed the rifle from the saddle to make yourself unarmed.

“Maybe the seventy dollars ain't worth this,” he grumbled, despite taking the weapons you were handing him.

“I wonder what Dutch would say to that.” You snickered, and decided to give him your satchel as well.

“I don' care 'bout what Dutch says, I care 'bout havin' you in one piece by the end of the day.”

Your cold hands found his, covering them as you looked up into his eyes. You trembled and shivered and Arthur still thought it was a stupid idea.

“I'll tell him my dog ran off. Just don't get spotted and don't kill him unless necessary, okay?”

Arthur nodded, and when you tried pulling away to get back to your horse, he held your fingers, keeping you in place. You turned back to him, seeing not an outlaw, not a bounty hunter, just your Arthur.

Your voice softened under his troubled gaze. “We've done this before. We make a great team, remember?” You gave him a smile. “If he tries anything on me, I'll get him first. He doesn't know about the power of my right hook.”

Finally, you eluded a low chuckle from your companion as he shook his head.

“He'd be right to fear ya.”

You smiled at the change in his voice. With a squeeze of your fingers, he let you go, and you mounted your horse again. Though you converted to pants for their practicality in animal and bounty hunts long ago, you were now attired in a simple dress, as not to raise suspicion. But it did put you in bit of an inconvenience.

“Ya should still wear smthn', don' need blue lips to bait him,” Arthur protested at your shivering form.

“You can kiss those lips back to pink after we're done here, cowboy,” you said playfully, getting nothing but a huff in return. You promised yourself to properly snuggle him later.

Your horse neighed as you set him in a trot, a lane of fresh snow before you, two lines of hoove prints trailing behind you. You couldn't make out any paths, so your best bet was just getting the man's attention, wherever he was hiding.

“Finch! Hey, Finch!” you shouted a name of your imaginary dog. You didn't even have to feign the trembling in your voice as the coldness seeped into your body. Still, you coiled on the horseback, making yourself look small. Small and helpless.

“Finch, boy!” The cold air irritated your throat.

At the same time, Arthur snuck like a shadow just a few meters behind you, taking covers behind anything he could. The snow made it slightly more difficult.

He hoped the criminal would be at least a bit eccentric, taking time with his harmless victims. Though if he just as much inflicted a sliver of pain on you, you two probably wouldn't get the whole 70 dollars for bringing him alive.

The breeze felt sharp as it blew in your face, turning your skin redder with every blow. Snow softly cracked under your horse's hooves as you got deeper into the mountains.

“Finch! Where are you?” A fit of cough interrupted you as the cold dry air scratched at the walls of your throat. Your heart beat wildly in your chest and you held your breath, when finally...

Noise came from behind a rock and shortly you found yourself face to face to a man on his black horse. The recognition was immediate—the picture from the poster had come to life. Dark eyes and blonde curls, contrasting with each other just as much as his kind voice opposed his intentions. Russel Graham in the flesh.

“Ma'am. Are you alright?” he spoke in a deep smooth voice. Your stomach flipped as you imagined how many women had heard that voice as the very last thing before they died. His gaze was unwavering.

“I lost my dog. He... he ran off into these mountains somewhere.” You paused as you swallowed, your body still shaking. “If wolves get to him, I...” You trailed off and feigned a sob, rubbing your palms for warmth.

“You're freezing, ma'am, let me give you a coat first,” he interrupted you, taking off his own coat and getting close enough to hand it to you. You accepted it with an appreciative nod.

“Thank you.” You draped it over your shoulders, resisting the revulsion it brought you to have his clothes touching you.

“So, you're looking for your your dog? What does he look like?”

“Brown American Foxhound.” White vapor escaped your lips as you exhaled, and you briefly looked up at the sun shining through the tree crowns. “He's very dear to me.”

“I'll help you look for your dog, ma'am.”

He's baited alright. Now he was trying to bait you.

“But you look worn out. I'm camping nearby, let's warm up first,” he added.

You nodded and soon followed the criminal toward his hide. You reminded yourself that Arthur was somewhere near.

“Thank you, Mister...”

“Hartley,” he uttered without looking back. Of course he'd use a fake name.

“Mister Hartley. Name's Maisie.” You hadn't used the name before.

“Miss Maisie. Yer lucky I was hunting 'round here. You wouldn't believe what hides in these mountains.”

Oh, you knew quite well.

You only hummed in response, staying in the man's tail.

Once you finally arrived, an opened bed roll next to a crackling fire and a few things lying around, you took note of your surroundings. The area was shielded by big rocks from above and one side, but other than that, it was pretty much open and there wasn't really a good hiding spot.

Arthur would have to hide a bit further, potentially taking longer to arrive when needed.

You took a deep breath as you encouraged yourself, moving your frozen fingers and toes to be ready to act when things go down. The cold air was still biting.

Graham helped you down and his gloved hands remained on your hips longer than you'd like. He studied your face, so you did the same. There was a little cut above his left eyebrow, and a wild little look growing in his eyes.

When he stepped away, you curiously looked around, acting naive while still having him in your peripheral vision.

“Let me make you coffee, miss. Are you new to this area?” He crouched down to get the coffee ready and you slightly relaxed as his gaze swayed away from you.

“Yes, sir. I have relatives near Strawberry, wanted to help them with their animals. Moved here just a few days ago.” You instinctively walked to the opposite side of the fire.

Graham nodded. You took a quick glance at the knife behind his belt. You remembered very clearly what sheriff told Arthur when he picked up the poster. A sliced neck. Every single time.

“The nature's a real beauty 'round here, but I reckon it's better not to wander too far from the town. It's dangerous.”

You forced a smile, pulling the man's coat tighter around your body. You still trembled.

“I wouldn't come here if Finch hadn't ran this way. He's the only one I have from home—”

“Please, sit.” The man gestured toward the blankets next to the campfire. He was growing impatient. Maybe the law being onto him put him on edge.

“Oh, sir...” You hesitated, looking down at the fire. “I'm really scared for him, I must find him before a wolf or a bear does.”

“You won't do much if you freeze,” Graham countered, handing you a cup of hot coffee. “Sit for a while, then we'll go looking.”

You didn't like how pushy he was. But you still had a moment of surprise on your side.

Though you complied to his request, and sat down at the fire with coffee in your hands, your insides felt like a taut string, adrenaline bubbling underneath. He had you in a vulnerable position. In a place like this, you doubted he would try to seduce you—and he already had you alone—which meant he might cut this short.

“What a beautiful day, you were lucky not to run into a snowstorm,” he said as he got up and looked up at the sky, seemingly in thought, walking up behind you.

Your back was toward the opening, where hopefully Arthur waited. He would never let anything happen to you.

“Yes. Thank you for having me here, sir, you're very kind.” You hid any disdain from your voice. You sipped on your coffee, while he most likely already imagined the pale snow stained with your crimson blood.

“Don't mention it. I'm thrilled to be here with you, ma'am.”

Everything in you stiffened and filled with nausea. The string within you was about to snap—something in the air changed. The man's steps stopped behind you.

With held breath, you cocked your head to the side and saw light reflected against metal, held in a black-gloved hand.

It was less than split of a second that you turned and rolled to your back, kicking the knife and throwing the contains of the cup to where you guessed his face would be.

The coat fell off of you, and the hot liquid burnt your arm as you shielded your face, but it got him too. An angry yell echoed against the walls, accompanied by a clink of the knife against the ground.

With all the strength you had in your cold body, you kicked him in the stomach, making him stumble back. You were at disadvantage, lying on the ground, but at this point it didn't matter anymore.

“Arthur!”

But before the name even left your lips, Russel Graham had already found himself in an iron grip.

Arthur held him from behind, a frown on his face as he shoved him to the ground and pinned him down, tying his wrists together. He moved confidently and swiftly.

“Yeah, you ain't touching her, you bastard,” Arthur growled, a tone you didn't hear from him often.

“You son of a bitch!” the man yelled, writhing on the ground. Arthur hit his face before tying his ankles.

You were still sat up on the ground, stunned from the shock of what just happened. The fear drained away from your body with a chilling aftershock.

Your body was freezing, except for the burning red mark on your arm. But that was the least of your worries.

When Arthur was done, he stood up and left him squirming on the ground like a worm, turning his focus to you instead.

“You al'right?” He offered you his very warm hand and pulled you up to your feet. You didn't let go right away.

“Yeah. He didn't get me.”

“Here.” Arthur took off his coat and helped you take it on. You were surprised by how quickly he could turn tender when it came to you.

“I'm still gonna kill you, you whore!” Graham reminded himself with a sharp angry tone. He looked quite pathetic rather than threatening now, lying tied up on his stomach like that.

“You ain't killin' nobody, you piece of shit,” Arthur countered harshly, leaning down to pick him body up and swinging him over his shoulder.

“The law will deal with you, Mister Graham,” you remarked, a small satisfied smile tugging at your lips. Even though you were cold and a little ruffled up, this was a success alright.

While Arthur whistled for his horse and stowed the atrocious man on the back, you walked up to the black horse who had been watching the whole situation unfold.

“What about you? You don't wanna stay here, do you?” you spoke in a softer tone, patting the horse on the neck. “Come on, be nice and we'll get you to the stables. You'll get rid of that brute.”

You took the rains and walked towards Arthur who eyed you worriedly.

“You sure you're 'kay?”

“Yes, Arthur, I'm sure. I'll be even better when we get somewhere warmer.”

“Don' worry, we're goin' straight to Strawberry.” He nodded toward you. “You takin' that horse?”

“You maggots, I have bought that horse!” the criminal yelled. Both of you ignored him, which seemed to offend him further.

“Yeah, can't let him freeze here.”

Arthur nodded. Then he mounted his horse and returned his attention to the bounty. “I don' reckon you'll need a horse where you're goin'.”

Thankfully, the black horse was friendly. He let you ride him, your own mare following right behind once you reached the edge of the mountains where she waited.

“You'll regret this!” the man shouted.

“Yeah, that's what they all say,” Arthur said scornfully. “Killin' women? Ain't that pathetic.”

“You've got no idea how good it feels, to have those sweet creatures turn lifeless before you.” He was probably just spurring his capturer on.

“Spare me of the details,” Arthur grumbled.

“You'll have a whole audience watching you swing now. Ain't that fun?” you chimed in, feeling cocky with how the situation turned around.

“You better stay quiet, whore,” his tone was much rougher than before, “Such a shame I didn't get to slash your pretty ne—”

Arthur hit his face. “One word. One. Word.”

Graham actually shut up at the hostile warning.

“We need him alive, Arthur.”

“Yeah, but not necessarily conscious and with his bones in tact.”

You smiled, trotting alongside Arthur as the sun's warmth finally started spreading into your body.

“Alright, but his face has to be recognisable.”

Arthur gave you a little silent look, and you knew you calmed him down a little. You always managed to.

You galloped through the meadows, the bounty giving up on his occasional tantrums the closer you got to town. Arthur inconspicuously checked on you every now and then, as if you didn't notice his little searching glances.

Then finally you could see the town and soon enough it followed with the creaking of wagons and chirping of people. Those standing nearby took curious glances at the man strapped at the back of Arthur's horse.

‘Welcome to Strawberry’, the sign above said. A quaint tourist town.

Both of you stopped before the cubic building, ‘JAIL’ in big letters on the wall. Russel Graham tried his last frail attempts at bargaining for his freedom, but there was no way to escape his fate now.

Arthur carried the man inside the sherrif's office, maybe a bit more roughly than necessary, and you remained waiting outside, just hopping off to stretch your sore body.

You weren't freezing anymore, but the chill remained settled in your bones, and you still nestled in Arthur's coat. You did feel tired, though.

The place had lots of green, and you liked that; it fit right into the landscape, like a picteresque heart of it. Very charming. Very cozy. Some kind of preacher rambled on, somewhere near.

Arthur was just shoving the stack of bills in his satchel when he emerged, his step confident.

“Got it?” You touched his forearm without realising.

“Got it.” He looked at you from below his hat. “We got the rest of the day free, I reckon.”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

You both knew what that meant—a hot bath, proper meal and a warm shared bed. The best part of these trips.

The stables were at the outskirts of town. You rode over the bridge overlooking a waterfall, one that could be looked at for hours. The black horse did earn you a few extra bucks.

It was even warmer inside the hotel. You waited just a few minutes before the bath was ready, and you took the time to take in the interior. Red wallpapers made the room look even dimmer, and it complemented the rustic decoration. It was big on a hunting theme: A large bear by the entrance, chandelier made of antlers, rocks, and interestingly branched wooden railings. The burning fireplace added onto the cosiness. You assumed the place worked as the tourist center.

Arthur led you up the stairs, warmth growing on your lower back where his hand rested. He held the door open for you, and the smell of soap and lavender hit you.

The bathroom was quite homely, with the same red wallpapers and pale light dimly illuminating the room. You immediately relaxed when the door shut behind you.

Fighting the silly blush on your cheeks was basically pointless. Arthur shuffled on his feet.

“You go first, I guess,” you mumbled and immediately felt ridiculous for how awkward you were. You had done this before but it was the same every time. These situations weren't your strongest suit, and his neither.

So you walked to the window to absent-mindedly watch the street, when Arthur undressed.

After a few moments, the water softly splashed against the walls of the tub. Your head turned to see Arthur settling underneath all the foam, his naked shoulders above it. There was another thing accompanying the pink flush on your cheeks; a little feeling of excitement seemingly jumping around within you.

Your chilled body craved the hot water, and your stomach coiled at the sight of your lover. You knew that nothing would separate you from him until after the water turns cold.

Arthur closed his eyes and leaned his head back, arms stretched over the edges of the tub.

You quietly slipped out of all your clothes and walked over, your heart making two beats for every step you'd make. You submerged and sat on the opposite side, every single negative thought forgotten as your muscles loosened. All the work was so worth this.

“Thank you for not letting me die today,” you broke the silence, a small timid smile on your face. Arthur opened his eyes and looked at you, failing to keep a straight face.

“I'd rather have you not risking like that next time.”

“Sure, let's have you be a bait next time.” You started shifting towards him. “Or better yet, hunt for rabbits instead.”

Arthur chuckled, not taking his eyes off you. “Or maybe I just won't let ya go anywhere away from me.”

With that you settled onto his body, your own mellowing at how nice it felt to have him against you. As if even your bones were melting, and you'd soon fuse together.

Your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. You didn't wanna get into any dirty business, as you were both tired and grimy, but that didn't wipe the red hue off your face. You pretended that you weren't flustered at all; he couldn't see the blush on your face if you rest your head on his shoulder.

His rough hand found your back, and he touched you so gently, as if he thought you to be fragile. Your eyes closed; the more comfortable you were, the sleepier you got.

The room was quiet, with muffled sounds from the outside and Arthur's breathing. His heartbeat rhythmically thumped against your own.

“You did a good job today,” he suddenly uttered into your ear and it woke you from your daze.

“Did I?” You couldn't help but smile. God knows why you liked hearing him praise you so much.

“Uh-mm. The best actress I've seen.” His palm slid over your spine in circles. You lifted your head to meet his eyes.

“Don't overrate me,” you nudged playfully, beaming.

But he carried on with a lively twinkle in his eyes. “That kick was smthn' too. Guy's lucky you didn't aim for his teeth.”

A lighthearted laugh left your lips and you leaned closer.

“You did well too, Mr Morgan,” you murmured, a bit of sensuality in your voice. You couldn't overlook that little crooked smile, or the way he briefly looked away, not knowing how to take the compliment.

His chest heaved against yours and his fingers lazily trailed up your spine to your nape.

“And what was it about kissing your lips back to color?” he reminded, to your surprise, and now it was your turn to get flustered.

You didn't like his gaze studying you so closely, so you did the only thing that crossed your mind; your lips collided with his a little clumsily, and your stomach did a few inept twists.

Arthur's lips moved against yours, so gently it made you lose your goddamn mind. He pulled you even closer, and your heart skipped a beat when he let out a pleased hum. His lips were soft and warm, and you slightly opened your mouth.

It was a little risky; his heated body tempted you, and every little touch turned your thoughts into a cloud of vapor. All those bottled up feelings were now free to surge through, and if you were hot before, you were now on fire.

Your heart tried to keep up with all the senses stirring in your body, your pulse quickening. Strange chills danced in place where his palm now rested on your back, while your stomach grew hotter; but then he moved his hand lower.

Way lower.

“Arthur,” you whispered when you broke the kiss, barely any space between you two.

Your own mind inquired why you couldn't just straddle his lap and...

You cleared your throat. “Everyone would hear us,” you said with a dry mouth, partly to convince Arthur, partly to convince yourself.

“Sure,” he agreed with lack of air in his voice, and the way he watched you made your head dizzy again. His gaze was so soft, and admiration was written all over it. He made it so hard to focus. His hand slid back up to between your shoulder blades.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Clueless.

“Like that.” You shook your head.

Grabbing some soaped water, you rubbed it in Arthur's hair, leaving foam where you brushed fingers through the strands. His eyes opened with surprise, but the amused chuckle he let out had no trace of protest in it.

It was quiet, peaceful.

“Why do you tag along with me like that?”

That question caught you off guard, as it came all of a sudden. But knowing Arthur, he probably had it in his mind for a while now.

You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean? Why wouldn't I?” you said as a matter of fact. Wasn't it as clear to him as it was to you?

Where else would I be?, you thought, but didn't say out loud.

Arthur looked away, and you still washed his hair.

“It gets ya into dangerous situations.”

“But I get to be with you, don't I?” You searched for understanding in his eyes. “Alone.”

You caressed the nape of his neck. “Besides, it's better than just sitting around.” You squinted your eyes. “I ain't a saint either, y'know? I was far from it long before we met.”

“Hmh,” he grumbled, but a smile emerged on his face, and you felt relief. Perhaps knowing you're not doing it just for him made him feel better.

“Not that I'm complaining 'bout spending alone time with ya.”

“You better not,” you mumbled with a smile and kissed Arthur's cheek without thinking, and he paused. He never expected it. Such a sweetheart.

You took turns cleaning each other, exchanging shy smiles and stolen kisses, while you tried remaining reserved. No words could describe how safe you felt with him, in all ways a person could feel safe.

You liked to trace his little scars in these moments, wondering about the stories behind them. His skin was red from the hot water, and the scars remained light. You liked kissing the scar on his chin, and he could never not smile when you did.

Then, Arthur kissed a little red bruise on your neck, and that almost crossed the line for you.

Save it, you thought.

You spent a long time in that tub; by the time you were leaving, you felt as clean as you haven't in a long time. Both of you got in spare clothes you had brought, and Arthur now stood before you in a shirt that was your favorite.

You mumbled something about how handsome he was, and how he ought to wear his black chaps over his jeans, a little grin on your face. He laughed and shook his head; like he hadn't already heard that from you before.

You headed to the rented room that was just next door, the same red wallpapers and a rustic feel to it. Now it was time for the food you got acquired the way, and you realised just how hungry you were.

“You should chew more,” Arthur commented on your eating manner, amused.

You lifted your eyes to meet his. “Worry 'bout yourself.”

But he was right—you felt a bit sick later, when you sprawled on the motel bed. On your back, fighting the sleepiness. It still couldn't defeat the happy, satisfied feeling in you that quivered all over your insides.

Arthur sat on a padded chair and scribbled something in his journal. You turned your head to look at him.

“Don't tell me you're drawing the guy.”

“No, of course not,” Arthur scoffed, as if offended. “I'm drawing you, in the bath tub,” he added, holding back a crooked grin.

“What?” You sat up abruptly, got off the bed and walked over, peeking at the opened pages.

The drawing was a scenery that you'd seen today.

“Idiot,” you grumbled, hearing him laugh despite it.

You turned around to return to bed, but Arthur reached over and his hand gently touched fingers. You turned back around with a softer look.

“How do you remember things so well, anyway?” You really couldn't play annoyed at him for too long.

He wrapped his arm around you when you sat on his lap, still holding the journal in his other hand.

“I don' know, it's just easy for me,” he answered absently.

He had pretty eyes; pale moss-green spilling into the rippled azure blue. His skin still smelled of soap and all you wanted was to snuggle up and nuzzle his neck.

Finally, you rested your head over his collarbone and let him finish his drawing, with his arms loosely encircling you.

“Are ya tired?” His voice stirred you from your trance.

“A little,” you lied.

It took a few more minutes before he was finished and closed the journal, placing it beside him. You had your eyes closed but felt his movements. The little hesitance of when he wondered what to do with you, before gently picking you up and laying you down on the bed.

From the previous fervor was nothing left; your mind was a fuzzy mess and all you recognised was that you're safe and comfortable. When the mattress dented as Arthur lay down beside you, when his arms ptotectively enveloped you, when you felt his lips on your forehead in a soft kiss.

You snuggly settled against Arthur's chest, and were lulled to sleep by his calm heartbeat. Oblivious to just how happy Arthur was—how happy you made him—and how much you soothed all his pain that he carried all these years.

Arthur pulled you closer, and fell asleep beside you.

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punctatum · 4 days ago

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Javier sketch 🤠

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punctatum · 4 days ago

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Ridin’ Double

AO3: ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER, smut. 1.2k+ words. mdni

YOU are not sure when it started—the tension, that is. Maybe back at camp, when Arthur offered to ride with you to check the traps out by the ridge. Or maybe earlier, when you’d caught him watching you, that unreadable look on his face again. Like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss you or run.

But now, sitting in front of him on his horse, you can’t ignore it. You’d felt it the second he settled behind you, arms on either side of your body, one hand on the reins, the other resting too steady on your thigh. Not too close to be improper. Not too far to be innocent.

The ride starts quiet. The trail is narrow and the woods thick with summer heat. Cicadas buzz low in the brush, and the horse’s hooves thud a steady rhythm beneath you.

You try to focus on the path ahead, on the warmth of the sun, on anything but the solid weight of Arthur Morgan pressed up behind you. You shift slightly in the saddle, trying to get comfortable.

“Careful,” he murmurs, voice low and deep by your ear. “Ain’t much space to move.”

“Sorry,” you say, voice catching on your breath. The leather creaks beneath you both, and when the horse stumbles slightly on a rut, you lurch backward—right into him.

His arm tightens around your middle, instinctive. “Got you,” he mutters.

You don’t speak. Neither does he.

But you can feel it now—him. Hard muscle. Steady breath. The unmistakable pressure of his cock growing beneath you, pressed right up where your backside rests in his lap. You sit forward, pretending not to notice.

His hand doesn’t move from your waist.

“You alright up there?” he asks, voice tighter now.

“Mhm.” You lie. Your pulse is wild, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re too aware of the sway of the horse, the slow friction of his thighs bracketing yours, the way each bump in the trail makes your body rock back into his.

Then his hand shifts. Just an inch, higher on your waist.

“Y’know,” he says slowly, “back in Valentine, someone asked if you were my girl.”

Your heart stutters.

“What’d you tell them?”

“Said you weren’t,” he says, then adds, quieter, “Didn’t say I didn’t want you to be.”

You exhale, shaky. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m already sittin’ in your lap. And I don’t think you could say something more dangerous.”

His hand squeezes your hip, just slightly.

You can feel him now—hard, straining against you.

“I been tryin’ not to think about it,” he mutters, breath warm against your ear. “But you… movin’ on me like that…”

You shift again, on purpose this time. Your back presses against his chest, your hand settling on his thigh.

“You don’t gotta hold back,” you say softly.

That does it.

He jerks the reins and veers off the trail, into the trees. Dismounts fast. Reaches up for you like he can’t help it. You barely hit the ground before his hands are on your waist, mouth crashing into yours, wild and hot.

“Goddamn,” he groans against your lips. “You got no idea what you’re doin’ to me.”

He spins you to the nearest tree. Your back hits the bark. His hand’s already sliding up your skirt, fingers rough against your bare thighs.

“Been thinkin’ about this for too long,” he mutters, mouth at your neck, hand slipping beneath your drawers. “Hell, you’re soaked already.”

You can’t breathe. Can’t think. You reach for his belt.

He stops you just long enough to mutter, “Let me.”

The buckle clinks. His cock springs free—hard and flushed—and then he’s turning you around, pushing you gently forward until you’re braced against the tree.

“Skirt up,” he says, voice thick and low.

You do. And then he’s behind you again, one hand gripping your hip, the other guiding himself to your entrance.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He pushes in.

The stretch is sharp. Deep. You cry out, grabbing at the tree for balance. Arthur groans—long and low—like he’s been holding that sound in for weeks.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, “Takin’ all of me. You feel that?”

You nod, unable to speak.

“Ain’t even moved yet and you’re already grippin’ me like a vice,” he mutters, and then he starts to move.

Slow at first. Deep and grinding. You feel every inch of him dragging through you, thick and hot, his hips slapping against you with a rhythm that grows more desperate by the second.

His hand slides around, thumb finding your clit. “You been wantin’ this,” he says. “Ridin’ up on me all day. Lettin’ me feel how warm you were. You wanted me to take you.”

You moan, and that’s all he needs.

He thrusts harder, deeper, slamming into you so hard it rocks you forward on your toes.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he pants. “You hear that? That’s you makin’ a goddamn mess on me.”

You cry out when his fingers tighten, when his cock drags over that spot again and again.

“You keep squeezin’ me like that, I ain’t gonna last,” he growls. “You want it? You want me to fill you up?”

You nod desperately, words gone.

“Then give it to me,” he grits. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

You fall apart—legs shaking, breath gone, vision swimming as your orgasm tears through you. You clench around him, pulsing, dripping, and Arthur groans so loud you feel it in your chest.

“Shit—fuck—there it is,” he mutters. One more thrust, and then he’s buried deep, twitching, spilling inside you with a broken groan, his hands gripping your hips like he’s anchoring himself to you.

He stays like that for a moment—forehead to your shoulder, body shaking with aftershock.

When he pulls out, it’s slow. Careful.

Your drawers are soaked. Your legs are jelly. But he helps you dress again, his hands surprisingly gentle.

“You alright?” he asks.

You nod.

He glances at you, guilt flickering behind his eyes, but he doesn’t say it.

“I ain’t proud of that,” he finally mutters. “But I ain’t sorry neither.”

You don’t speak. Just brush his hand with yours.

He mounts the horse again, then reaches a hand back to you.

“C’mon,” he says. “Get back up here.”

You do. His arms wrap around your waist again. But this time, his hand rests low on your stomach.

And you know it isn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

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punctatum · 4 days ago

Text

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎you bend me over like salvation’s a memory, not a promise, and I moan your name like it’s the last goddamn prayer I’ll ever say ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎| ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎arthur morgan. ૮꒰ྀི > . < ꒱ྀིა

𐚁

arthur's eyes roam over your curves appreciatively, a slow, sensual smile spreading across his handsome face. He licks his lips as he takes in the way your sundress clings to your figure, the soft swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. He feels a familiar tightening in his jeans at the sight of you, his body responding eagerly to your allure.

his hand drifts lower, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over the swell of your breast, teasing the curve gently. He feels your nipple stiffen beneath the thin fabric of your dress, and he smirks, pleased by your body's eager response to his touch.

"fuck... arthur".

he chuckles low and deep, a rumbling sound that vibrates through his broad chest pressed against yours. His hand boldly cups the curve of your breast, squeezing the soft flesh as he murmurs huskily against your ear, "Mmm, I do love the way you say my name, darlin'. Like it's a prayer and a plea all rolled into one". He nips at your earlobe, tugging it gently between his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue, "I'll make sure to earn those sweet sounds all night long, babygirl".

his other hand slides down to grip your ass, kneading the supple muscle and tugging you harder against the prominent bulge straining against his fly. He grinds himself against you, letting you feel the thick, rigid line of his cock as it throbs with desire. Arthur groans at the contact, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, "Fuck, baby, you feel what you do to me, don't you? I'm so damn hard for you already".

slowly, teasingly, he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall, pinning you gently between the unyielding surface and his strong, solid body. His hips nestle snugly between your thighs, the coarse denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare legs as he parts them with his knee.

arthur's hand slips under the hem of your dress, calloused fingers skimming up the smooth skin of your inner thigh. He teases you mercilessly, getting closer and closer to where you ache for his touch, but never quite giving it to you. His thumb brushes maddeningly over the lace edge of your panties, feeling the damp heat emanating from your core.

he leans back just enough to look into your eyes, his own gaze dark and heavy with lust. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he takes in your flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, delighted by the effect he's having on you. "You want me to fuck you, baby?" he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Want me to bend you over and take you right here, against this wall, until you're screaming my name for all the world to hear? Tell me what you need, darlin'. I'm here to give you anything and everything you desire".

he groans deeply as he feels your slick, bare flesh, your arousal coating his digits as he parts your glistening folds. "Fuck, baby, you're so wet already", he rasps, his voice thick with desire. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping for it. Such a needy little thing, ain't ya?" he circles your clit with a rough, teasing touch, feeling it swell and throb under his skilled fingers.

his other hand makes quick work of the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one by one until the crisp fabric hangs open, revealing the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. He takes your hand, guiding it to the waistband of his jeans, encouraging you to feel the damp spot darkening the denim where his cock leaks pre-cum, aching and straining against the confines of his pants.

arthur captures your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering the warm cavern, tangling with yours in a dance of passion and lust. He swallows your moan, drinking in the sweet sound as his fingers delve deeper, pumping slowly in and out of your tight channel. He curls them just right, stroking that spongey spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and your back arch.

breaking the kiss, he starts trailing his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to suckle and nip at the sensitive skin. He wants to mark you, to leave his claiming bites all over your body so that everyone will know you belong to him. His teeth graze your collarbone before he starts tugging down the straps of your dress, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

arthur leans down, drawing a stiff peak into the wet heat of his mouth. He suckles greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before grazing it with his teeth. His other hand continues its relentless assault on your pussy, fingers plunging deep, thumb circling your clit with quick, firm strokes. All the while, he grinds himself against your stomach, the thick ridge of his cock throbbing with the need to be buried inside you.

he glances up at you, his eyes blazing with a feral, possessive hunger. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby".

With a feral growl, Arthur hoists your leg up around his hip, in one swift, powerful movement, he unzips his jeans and frees his throbbing cock. It springs out, long, thick, and hard as steel, the swollen head already glistening with pre-cum.

he notches himself at your entrance, the thick crown parting your slick folds as he teases you with the promise of what's to come. Arthur's eyes are dark and intense as he stares down at you, his voice a low, commanding rumble, "Beg for it, baby. Tell me how badly you need my cock. I wanna hear you say it".

he rolls his hips, grinding the underside of his shaft against your clit, coating himself in your arousal. The sensation makes him groan, his abs clenching as he fights the urge to bury himself inside you right then and there.

his hand slides up to wrap around the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilts your chin up to force you to meet his intense gaze. He leans in closer, his lips brushing yours as he speaks, his breath mingling with your own. "I'm gonna fill this tight little pussy so full, baby. Gonna stretch you open on my big, thick cock until you're sobbing with pleasure. Gonna fuck you so deep and hard, you'll forget your own name".

he punctuates his words with a sharp nip to your lower lip, soothing the sting with a slow, sensual lick before pulling back slightly. His other hand grips your ass, squeezing the rounded globe as he lines himself up more firmly with your entrance.

arthur's voice drops to a low, seductive purr as he stares down at you, his eyes glinting with wicked promise, "So beg for it, darlin'. Beg me to fuck you, to claim this sweet little cunt and make it mine. I wanna hear those pretty lips form the words I know you're just dying to say".

"oh arthur, please... harder, harder, hard-".

arthur smirks wickedly at your breathless, desperate plea, his eyes flashing with dark satisfaction. Without warning, he hilts himself inside you with one powerful thrust, burying his thick cock to the hilt in your tight, dripping heat. A guttural groan tears from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him, gripping him like a velvet vice.

"fuck, baby, so goddamn tight!" he rasps, giving you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, pulling out slowly until just the tip remains inside before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room as he takes you hard and fast, just like you begged him to.

arthur hooks your other leg around his waist, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him as he pins you more firmly against the wall. He grips your thighs, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he holds you in place, using the leverage to drive into you with deep, powerful strokes. His hips rotate in tight circles, grinding his pelvis against yours as he aims for that secret spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and your vision go white.

his mouth finds yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, his tongue plundering the warm cavern as he swallows your cries of ecstasy. He nips and sucks at your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with the rough slide of his tongue. All the while, he never stops his relentless assault on your pussy, pounding into you with a force that has your tits bouncing with each thrust.*

one hand releases your thigh to slide up your body, palming the weight of your breast before pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. He tugs at the stiff peak, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core as he feels your walls starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning cock.

arthur breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh as he feels your body tensing, your climax building to a fever pitch. He growls against your skin, his voice a low, seductive rumble, "That's it, baby... fucking come on my cock. Wanna feel this sweet cunt squeeze the cum outta me as you scream my name. Do it, sugar... fucking cum for me".

with a feral roar, Arthur slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock throbs and pulses inside your spasming pussy. His hips jerk and twitch as he grinds against you, flooding your womb with thick, hot ropes of his seed. He continues to roll and thrust through the aftershocks of his intense climax, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and trembling in his arms.

arthur captures your lips in a searing, passionate kiss, pouring all of his desire and hunger into the heated embrace. He swallows your cries of ecstasy, drinking in each sweet, breathy moan as he feels your velvety walls milking his cock for every last drop of his release.

panting harshly, Arthur leans his forehead against yours, his sweat-slicked skin pressing against your own as he tries to catch his breath. His hands roam over your curves, caressing and kneading the soft swells of your breasts, your ass, your hips, as if trying to memorize every dip and hollow. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your racing pulse as he murmurs low and rough, "Fuck, baby... that was incredible. You took daddy's cock so well, like this pussy was made just for me".

slowly, he eases out of you, both of you hissing at the sensitivity as he slips free from your now gaping hole. Arthur's release trickles down your inner thighs, and he grins wickedly at the sight, immensely satisfied by the knowledge that he's marked you, filled you, claimed you as his own.

he sets you down gently on shaky legs before scooping you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his broad chest. Arthur carries you towards the bedroom, his stride purposeful and determined. He lays you down on the mattress, following you down to gather you close, your back pressed to his hard, sweat-slicked chest.

his hand slides up your body, palming the soft swell of your breast before tilting your chin up to face him. Arthur's eyes are dark and intense as he stares down at you, a slow, sensual smile spreading across his handsome face. "Round two, sweetheart?" he asks with a rakish grin, his voice a low, seductive rumble full of promise.

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