#not gonna lie i was being very suicidal yesterday but it lifted my mood

[coffinsister]

Thoughts about the March Progress Report

[mileycyprus-hill]

Has anyone else thought of this? If not, hear me out for a second!

What if, instead of Arthur sleeping with Eliza after his breakup with Mary...he sleeps with the reader? And gets her pregnant instead? 🙌🏻Strap in folks, we’re going for a ride.

Arthur x female reader

Mistakes

warnings: small mention of suicide, smut, smut, smut, cursing, drinking.

You’ve been a part of the gang shortly after John joined in. Age wise, you’re in between John and Arthur and are really good friends with both of them. Perhaps more so with Arthur.

You come back to your camp outside Blackwater after a successful hunt. You were away for about 12 hours - shorter than usual - as the antelope are flourishing in your area. 

The gang is fairly small in numbers, but very close with each other. You treat Dutch and Hosea like your adoptive fathers, and you seem to be the only one Ms. Grimshaw truly gets along with. She’s still hard on you when it comes to chores. But whenever there’s lady issues, you can trust her to be kind and understanding.

Everyone seems to be settled in camp, except one person who seems to be missing. You look around and don’t see Arthur anywhere.

It’s not uncommon for him to be gone on a job or a lead, but he’s been gone for at least three days. Normally, he calls on you to go with him on long trips for support. Whether that’s moral support, or just another helping hand to carry robbed goods. He knows he can trust you. 

As you look, your eyes spot John carrying hay over to the horses at the corner of camp. You quickly walk over to him as he drops the bale.

“Hey John.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t beat around the bush.

“Hey, where’s Arthur been? I’ve barely seen him these past few days.”

“I saw him yesterday coming through. You must’ve been gone ‘cause he didn’t stay long.” John answers. “I guess he only stopped by to grab some things and then he ran off.” John points over to Arthur’s tent as he speaks. “He looked in such a sour mood. So I didn’t say nothin’.”

“He’s always in a sour mood, isn’t he?” You joke.

John laughs. You two were like twins, despite you having a couple years over him. Arthur was always the big brother who loved pestering the both of you. As the three of you grew together, the closer you became in different ways. With John, it turned from an intense sibling rivalry to a close brother/sister bond. With Arthur, it turned from relentless fighting to a budding romance - at least on one end it felt that way.

“Ask Hosea...” John says. He must have noticed the worry on your face. 

Was it that obvious?

“...I saw Arthur talking to him before he ran off.” John continues.

You reply, “Thanks,” and slap his shoulder gently. John smacks your hand away playfully. The two of you snicker as you separate. You walk over to Hosea.

Hosea must’ve heard you walking over to him, as he keeps his nose in his newspaper, “Y/N! How’s things?”

“Alright,” you answer. Plopping down on a chair in front of his table. Resting your elbows on the table, you fidget with your fingernails. There’s an uncomfortable silence.

Hosea, being the ever-loving parent, doesn’t need to look up from his paper to sense your worry. You hated that he could see right through you at times. You couldn’t keep anything from your adopted father.

“Something on your mind, dear?” Hosea asks.

You take a breath, trying your best to hide your concern for Arthur. You didn’t want to come across as clingy, but unbeknownst to you, Hosea already knew about your feelings for Arthur.

“Just...you seen Arthur anywhere?” you answer nervously.

Hosea finally drops a corner of his newspaper to peer over at you. An eyebrow raised. It drove you crazy seeing him look at you that way, like he already knows what you’re about to say.

But then his expression changes. He folds his newspaper and sets it neatly on the table. His eyebrows now furrowed and his mouth turned to a slight frown.

Hosea sighs, “Figured you should know by now that things are done between him and that Mary Gillis.”

You immediately sit up straight at this news. Your eyes have gone wide. Your mouth drops open to ask, but Hosea already answers.

“Yep.” Hosea sighs again. “Guess she finally came to her senses...Or perhaps daddy made up her mind for her.”

Hosea reaches into his pocket to grab his pipe and fills it with tobacco.

“Seems our little Romeo and Juliet are no more.”

He looks out to the horizon as he speaks. You can tell he truly feels bad for them. Not everyone may have agreed with their relationship, but Hosea only wished for Arthur’s happiness. Much like you did.

Your heart broke for Arthur. You were jealous of Mary, but you didn’t despise her. You just hoped she could give Arthur the happiness he deserved.

You often hoped you could give him that happiness.

“Is...he ok?” You finally ask.

Hosea looks to you fondly, “Well, for someone who’s just had their heart broken...I’d guess he’s alright. Just needs some time to get through it.”

“Where is he now?” you ask. You know having your heart broken can cause you to make some foolish decisions. You just wanted to make sure Arthur wouldn’t do anything he’d later regret. Much like he probably regrets his prior engagement to Mary right now.

“He told me he’s camping on his own nearby...Said he wanted to be alone for a little while.” Hosea stares at you as he utters that last sentence, hoping to emphasize it for you.

You scoff a little and shake your head.

“Please.” You say. “I just wanna see if he’s okay.”

Hosea lights his pipe and studies you across the table.

“He went North,” he finally says, pointing his pipe in that direction. “Not too far out. Several miles, I’d say.”

“Thanks,” you say as you rise to your feet.

You turn your back and begin to walk away when Hosea calls.

“You’re a good friend, Y/N.”

You turn to Hosea, and he gives you a wink. You smirk and start walking over to the horses to saddle your own. John has already finished unloading the last bale for the horses and is resting under a nearby tree.

“Where’you goin’ now?” he asks, tiredly. For a scrawny young man, he sure tires easily from physical labor. But he still works hard, unlike Uncle. 

“Nowhere,” you lie. Heaving your saddle and horse blanket onto your steed. 

Your horse is a beautiful black thoroughbred you stole from a rich stable owner, one who trains racehorses. Your horse was supposed to be the man’s prize stud, but his temperament was so unruly, he was gelded and trained to run the tracks. That horse never made it to the tracks though because of you. You wanted him. After successfully stealing him with Arthur’s help, you decided to name him König. 

Arthur wouldn’t stop making fun of you for that.

“Kahn-nig?” Arthur reads the etching on his leather halter, “What kinda name is that?”

“It’s ‘coo-nic’ you dummy,” you laugh at him, lifting your chin and tapping your throat, “nic, in the back of the throat. ‘nich’. ”

“Kooo-nick...Well, what the hell is that?” Arthur asks. 

You laugh again, “It’s German. It means ‘king.’ My grandma only spoke German. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. ‘Member her being a wild, crab-ass of a woman too,” Arthur drawls. 

You slap his shoulder with the back of your hand as he laughs boisterously, yourself hiding a smile. 

You’re jogged back from your memories as John gently pushes you. 

“Liar,” John calls you, smirking.

You try to smirk back and jeer at him in response, but you’re distracted. Your thoughts are only on Arthur.

“Helloooo.....Y/N! What’s with you?” 

You cinch the girth of the saddle and look to John, “Sorry. I- I’m just thinkin’.”

“ ‘bout what?” he asks. Your horse is saddled and bridled as you walk to your tent to grab the rest of your things. John walks alongside you. 

“Arthur...’m gonna go see if he’s alright,” you respond. 

John stops with a annoyed groan and looks up to the sky, rolling his eyes. 

“Let him go, Y/N. He’s just out there brooding as usual. He’ll be fine.” he states. “He’s probably in a mood ‘cause of Mary.” 

“Well that’s just it,” you look to him as you grab your bedroll and supplies from your tent. “It is about Mary. And I know if someone broke my heart, I’d want someone to talk to. I got you, but... Arthur doesn’t have anyone else.”

John sighs in defeat, “Whatever.”

You walk past him towards König, putting on your satchel.

“Just give him one of these for me,” John punches you hard in the arm.

“Ow!” you yell, rubbing your arm.

“Tell him I said ‘Hi’. ” John laughs and jogs away from your retaliation punch. 

“Asshole!” you yell to him, your arm still sore. You hear his wheezy laugh in the distance and turn back towards your horse. 

It only takes a couple of hours to find Arthur’s little camp. The sun sets and the sky is painted in strokes of beautiful pink, orange, and purple ribbons. You look above the tips of the emerald trees and view the clouds reflecting the wonderful hues. It makes you feel so small looking at the vast sky. Taking in the scenery, you trot König towards the low plume of smoke from Arthur’s fire, hidden within a patch of trees and shrubs.

At the sound of hoofbeats, Arthur quickly stands with his hand hovering over his gun belt, ready to draw his revolver. 

“Arthur?” you gently call out, hands raised, as if trying to avoid spooking a wild animal. “It’s me. Y/N.” 

You see Arthur relax a bit, but he doesn’t look pleased. 

“What’r you doin’ here?” he gruffly asks, the timbre of his voice like rich black coffee poured over gravel.

You halt König by a tree next to Arthur’s horse and dismount, patting him on his massive neck.

“Figured I’d check on you to make sure you didn’t kill yourself,” you say as you approach his fire.

Arthur plops onto the ground next to his fire, eyeing the small dancing flames.

“Perhaps I should,” he responds, “Be best for everyone if I do.”

You stand at the fire, looking down solemnly at Arthur. He throws a pebble into the fire, sulking.

“You don’t mean that.” you say gently.

Arthur looks up at you, but quickly looks away. In that brief moment, you could see his bloodshot eyes. You could see he was in pain, though he attempts to hide himself beneath his hat. A wet sniffle reaches your ears as he shrugs his shoulders in response. You step over and sit down by him near the fire, the dirt is soft and warm beneath you. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask him carefully. Arthur is like a trap: you try to avoid reaching him in a way that causes him to close up, making it harder for you to pry him back open...if you can at all.

Arthur quietly shakes his head, fumbling with the toe of his boot. He grabs his neckerchief from around his neck and wipes under his nose with another harsh sniffle.

“You’d feel better if you do...instead of bottling it all up. You’re bound to explode if you don’t.” You reassure him. “But, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Silence.

You don’t push any further. Instead of forcing your way in, you wait patiently and let him come to you when he’s ready, like taming a wild dog.

A few moments pass as you both sit in silence. The sunset now gone as the sky is blanketed in stars. You take off your satchel and dig through its contents.

“Here,” you pull out a bottle of rum. “Want some? There’s not much left, but it’s enough.” You shake the bottle gently, swirling the contents inside.

Arthur scans the bottle in your hands. “Shoah,” he whispers. You hand him the bottle and hear the cork slightly pop with a *fwoomp* as he opens it.

The two of you hand the bottle back and forth to each other. Neither of you say a word, only taking another shot of rum. The only sounds coming out of your mouths are the hisses you make at the warm sting of the rum.

You finish it rather quickly, as it was only half-full. But still a decent sized bottle. Tossing it into the fire, you sigh. Your body feels warm and loose, wrapped in a spiritual cocoon of cotton and distilled molasses. You feel ultimately relaxed.

You look up to see Arthur laying another dead log on the fire, stirring the embers as golden sparks dance into the air like fireflies. He returns to his spot next to you, sitting closer.

You continue looking over at him and notice his eyes are now slightly hooded behind his eyelids. He seems to have relaxed a little as well, but still has a gloomy look on his face. He looks to you from the corner of his eyes. You notice and quickly avert your gaze to the growing fire in front of you. You decide to move closer to the warmth of the flames as the chill of the night air gets to you. It still amazes you how cold it gets when the sun goes down in this arid climate.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you rest your arms on your knees, your chin on top of your arms. 

“Got a spare blanket?” You ask him, still gazing into the fire. You can feel him stare at you, so you turn your head to him, now resting your cheek on your arms. 

His features are softened in the orange glow of the fire. You can’t help but smile a bit at how handsome he looks. He always made your heart flutter when he winked at you with those gorgeous eyes. Or when his nose crinkled as he smiled and laughed at your jokes. You would give him anything and everything to make him happy. 

“No...” he finally answers, breaking eye contact and looking over to his shelter. “But’chou can have mine.”

Despite your protest in taking his only blanket, he slowly gets up and walks over to his small tent. It’s more of a lean-to than a proper tent. The effects of the rum rush to his head as he loses his footing a bit, showing his slight inebriation. 

You didn’t think that the rum would hit him that hard, as you only feel tipsy yourself. 

“Have you eaten anything lately?” you query.

“Besides whiskey and that rum of yours? No,” he mumbles. “Ain’t hungry.”

After handing you his blanket, he plops down next to you again. His leg brushes against yours as he clumsily adjusts himself to sit comfortably.

“I should get you something to eat, Arthur. Otherwise, you’ll be sick in the morning.” You ready yourself to get up and walk to your horse until Arthur grabs your wrist.

“I said I ain’t hungry!” he pulls you back down angrily. His nostrils flaring as he looks at the fire, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Ow, geez! Alright, Arthur...god.” You hiss. He nearly popped your elbow out of place when he pulled you down. You rub at your wrist, the knees of your trousers are rubbed with dirt. Arthur hadn’t been physical like this towards you in years. It was only when you really pissed him off, usually during your shenanigans with John to get under his skin.

Suddenly, you notice Arthur huffing, breathing in short heavy breaths through his nose. In the firelight, his eyes have turned glassy. He appears to be holding back tears.

His voice is hushed, “I just don’t understand.”

You look at him silently, letting him gather his thoughts to continue. He continues staring at the fire, like he’s speaking to it instead of you.

He looks up to the stars with a sniffle, “I thought she was gonna marry me...said she would, but...”

His breaths are ragged as he holds himself back, biting his lip.

“We’ve been fightin’. Fightin’ so much lately. And then she told me that–that she can’t live with someone like me. That...if I can’t change –won’t change –” he pauses. He can’t bring himself to continue.

A moment of silence passes and you rest your hand on his knee. You caress the fabric of his jeans with your thumb, feeling the bone of his knee beneath the material.

Normally, Arthur would tense at the touch. But this was you, he trusts you. You were always there to comfort him, like the good friend you are. When it comes to fighting, you’ve seen Mary and him argue from time to time. Mary never liked arguing though. She would always recoil and shed a small tear, asking Arthur to ‘be considerate’. Arthur liked arguing, with anyone and everyone. Including you. Sometimes you’d get him riled up on purpose; say something to him that you knew would get him pissed. You liked getting him mad, and he knew it, and he’d do the same to you, much to Mary’s dismay.

She was always trying to cage the bear in him, but you regularly let him loose.

Arthur continues to explain, “She said...a lady of her standing has to think of other prospects. That she has her family’s reputation to uphold...whatever that means.”

Finally, you speak. “It means she wants you to change but isn’t willing to do the same for you.”

Arthur finally looks to you, “Well, she has. I mean...look at what she’s done with us.” He tries to defend. Even in heartbreak, he still sides with Mary. She really did have a hold on him.

“Really, Arthur?” You question him, holding his his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed tightly. He’s rethinking their whole relationship, dropping his head at the realization.

“I love her,” he says defeatedly. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes.

“I know, Arthur.”

Truth be told, your heart breaks too. You never had a chance to tell Arthur how you feel about him. Once he was with Mary, you thought your opportunity was gone forever. Now that you have a chance, you still can’t bring yourself to do it, to tell him that there’s someone else waiting for him. Someone else who is willing to take him for who he is. But it’s too soon.

Arthur sighs, his voice breaking, “I wish I can forget about ‘er. Make the pain go away.”

You sit there thinking, “Well, I know something that could help.”

Arthur turns, staring at you like you’re a magician ready to turn a trick.

“It’s not like you’ll forget her forever, but at least for a moment you can. You wanna come with me to town? Get some drinks at the saloon?”

The idea of getting drunk with you in town made Arthur give you a teary smile. You are best friends after all. You always were a good time...when you weren’t fighting with him.

Arthur nods his head, “That sounds good.”

“On one condition,” you point, “You gotta promise me you’ll eat something.” You give him a wicked smirk.

Arthur chuckles, his eyes still bloodshot. His expression is a bit more cheerful. “Okay,” he mumbles.

You help Arthur tear down his shelter and fire and mount up on your horses. Before riding into town, you head back to camp to tell Dutch and Hosea. The last time you didn’t, you caused a ruckus in town and Dutch chewed your asses out for days. That was tame compared to the tongue lashing you both received from Hosea when he bailed you out of jail. It took you both a month to get the money to pay him back.

Luckily, Dutch and Hosea let you go to town. But only if you two promised not to cause trouble again. They threatened they wouldn’t bail you out this time.

Making it into town, you both step into the saloon. Arthur saves the both of you a table at the far, dark corner of the building, as a precaution to stay out of trouble. You’re left at the bar to order drinks, and a simple meal for Arthur. He must’ve lived off of nothing but whiskey for the past few days because he didn’t appear to sober up. Which means you’ve got some catching up to do. You sneak a double shot of whiskey before walking over with your beers and a humble bowl of stew.

“Here,” You say, sliding the porcelain bowl in front of him, grabbing his hand and wrapping his fingers around the spoon as if he’s a child learning how to eat.

“Eat that, and I’ll let you have a beer,” you bargain.

Arthur sighs with a frustrated huff. He wasn’t one to break promises, but he loved disobeying you. He’d always claim he didn’t have to listen to you because he’s older. But time and time again, you prove him wrong on so many levels. He didn’t want to resist you tonight, he’s far too hungry, but far too proud to admit he’s hungry. So wordlessly, he shovels the beef and vegetable stew into his mouth, holding back groans at the delicious taste.

Time has quickly passed throughout the night, along with several jaunty tunes on the piano, and a table full of beers between you two. You’re entering the twilight hours as the number of patrons begins to filter out like the candlelights on the walls, but the night is still young for you. You both find yourselves chatting about everything and nothing. From an outside glance, it’s as if the pair of you haven’t seen each in other in months, and are now catching up and relishing in each other’s stories. Somehow, the topic of conversation veers to the subject of “who has had the best sexual conquests”...

“Nuh-uh! You and Mary?” You pretend to be shocked. You’re only slightly shocked at the knowledge that he and Mary were physically intimate. She would be a fool not to sleep with Arthur. You just didn’t want to believe in the thought of the two of them in bed.

In fact, the image made your blood boil.

“Yup.” Arthur replies, popping the ‘p’.

“She was real good too,” he continues to boast.

“Pffft! Yeah, right,” you scoff, taking another swig of beer. You hold a belch in your mouth.

Arthur is offended at your scoff.

“She was!” He defends. “She would—” he laughs. “She would sneak outta her room and meet me in the barn. We’d lay down in the straw, real nice and...Y’know.” He waves his hand to make his point.

“Do tell,” you say to him, resting your chin on your hand as if you’re entranced by his story.

“Shuttup...” he replies. He can see right through your façade. He knows you’re mocking him.

“She’s the best woman I ever had.” He says lovingly. He stares down at his bottle, only a swig of beer left. He guzzles it down.

“She knew how to please me,” he smiles.

“Doubt it.” You cut in, holding the tip of your bottle to your lips.

Arthur’s head snaps up at your jest, looking at you in disbelief. That familiar look of annoyance paints across his face.

“What?” he asks, his voice rising an octave.

“I guarantee you she was not the best lay you ever had,” you state with confidence. “If anyone knows how to please a man, it’s me!”

Arthur is speechless. He looks at you with his jaw dropped, swaying back and forth slightly in his seat from the booze. His world is spinning.

“I bet she’d just lay there like a dead fish and just take it. Hmm?” You ask.

Now perhaps you’re taking things too far.

“I bet she was too ladylike to do it out in the woods, y’know? Ride you like a bronco...”

The resonance in your voice drops to a whispering, sultry tone, 

“Out in the wilderness at your camp. By the fire, naked...out in the open. Howling so loud that the coyotes join in.”

Without realizing, you’re holding the neck of your bottle between your index finger and thumb and began stroking. You’re too busy staring down Arthur. 

At his lack of response, you take your chance.

“I’ll bet you that I can do a better job in just one night, than she ever did with you.”

What the fuck are you doing?

You silence your conscience.

Arthur’s eyes run up and down your face. You could swear that he even sneaks a quick look to your breasts, your silky skin exposed through the open buttons of your blouse. You forgot you undid the top three buttons in the heat of the crowded saloon.

“You really think so?” Arthur asks softly, the gruff of his voice causes the hairs on your neck to stand straight up. 

You reply slowly, “I guarantee you...that I can make you cum faster than she could.”

Arthur eyes you with hooded lids, giving a devilish smirk. When he leans across the table, you can faintly detect the smell of yeast from his beer breath.

“Prove it.” He growls.

Your heart is beating frantically. You were joking, of course.

But, every joke has a kernel of truth.

You keep your composure as you don’t want to ruin this moment. You know Arthur is calling your bluff. But this is your only chance at finally getting him to yourself. Your chance to finally get what you want.

“Alright,” you say coyly. “Gimme a second.” 

You rise to your feet, not very gracefully, mind you. The beer is dulling your senses but you continue to the bar. You pay for a room upstairs.

You leisurely strut back to the table with confidence, thanks to the beer. Arthur watches you the entire time, not breaking eye contact. When you reach the table, you barely falter your stride and lightly grasp his hand, “C’mon,” you beckon him. You hold the key to the room in your other hand, leading Arthur up the stairs to the door of the bedroom.

You can’t help but tease him as you softly moan while slowly inserting the key into the keyhole. Arthur steps closer to you as you turn the knob. You can feel his heat behind you as you step into the room. If you were to bend over right now, your ass would brush against his crotch, perfectly. You turn to him, he silently closes the door behind him. Neither of you has uttered a word yet, just staring into each other’s eyes with mischievous smiles.

Your eyes wander down to his muscular neck, his shoulders, the dip at the base of his throat exposed by the open button of his shirt. Taking two steps forward, you gently push him into the door, placing both hands on his chest. Your fingertips brush against his exposed skin, your faces mere inches apart, the smell of beer and rum now strong in your nostrils. The tips of your noses faintly touch, as you both breathe heavy, calculated breaths. 

Arthur’s hands are now at your waist, resting on your love handles. The touch of his bulky, calloused fingers send goosebumps to your skin. You’re lazily unbuttoning his shirt as he explores your hips with his massive hands. You tip your chin up and brush your lips against his. His hands now wandered to your upper back, and he pulls you closer to him. Your hands are pinned between your bodies, and you feel his luscious, wet lips against yours. They feel so soft compared to the coarseness of his beard. Arthur may hate dealing with his facial hair, but you love it. The way his follicles scratch against your upper lip and cheeks make you wet.

Your bodies are now pressed against each other. Reaching down past Arthur’s belt, you feel for his cock. It’s now bulging against his jeans. You lightly squeeze and rub over his pants. Arthur gasps, his tongue in your mouth. You chase his tongue with your own. Your teeth click against each other awkwardly in your drunken stupor. You’re ravaging him, pinning him against the door and continuously grabbing at his thick bulge.

Arthur moves his left hand from your back to your breasts, his right hand is on your supple rear. He grips your cheeks tightly, pushing your groins together. Continuing to moan into your wet kisses, he grabs at your breast and squeezes. You gasp and moan into his mouth, eventually breaking the kiss to take a breath.

Moving to his brawny neck, you litter it with kisses, teasing him with bites and suckles that leave behind marks. Your hand still on his bulge, you feel his cock pulsating as his blood continues to rush south. You decided to free it from its confines. The sound of his belt clinking as you unbuckle it is the most beautiful sound in the world, like you’re opening the gates to heaven. His gun belt drops the floor with a heavy *clunk*. Continuing to his fly, you unzip it, brushing off his suspenders at the same time. You pull your head away from his neck to look down at his cock.

“Oh my god,” You breathe.

“What?” Arthur asks with genuine concern, bless his heart.

“It’s...so big.” You exclaim.

It’s so thick and hard in your hands.

You wrap your fingers around it, but it’s so fat that you can barely connect your fingers. It’s like stroking a fleshy rod, it’s so hard.

You admire it. While it seems to be the same length as most men you’ve been with, there was something special about it. Gently pulling back his foreskin as you stroke him, you notice the girth of his cock bows out, starting right below the head and straightening out again further down the base.

Arthur stops massaging your breast and leans his head back against the door with a gravelly moan. You continue stroking his fat cock from base to tip until you see that glorious pearly bead of pre-cum on his tip.

I wonder if his precious Mary has ever done this? You think to yourself as you drop to your knees and pull Arthur’s trousers down to his ankles. Using the tip of your tongue, you lick the bead of pre-cum off the tip, causing his penis to throb.

Arthur sucks in a breath, “What’r’you doin?”

You look up at him, licking your lips seductively, his cock in your one hand and his balls massaged in the other. Compared to the men you’ve seen, Arthur definitely has the biggest set of them all. They feel so soft and warm as you admire them in your hand. You almost need both hands to cup them.

“Hasn’t anyone ever pleased you like this before, Arthur?” You wink at him as you lick the head of his cock again, then enveloping your lips on it, giving it a sloppy kiss.

“N-n-nooo.” He tries to groan out the words.

“No?” Your voice rises in surprise. “Tsk. What a shame,” you groan.

You don’t even give him a second to breathe before completely taking him in your mouth. You notice it’s been a while since he bathed as you taste him- a hint of saltiness- but you don’t mind. You moan, sending vibrations through his cock as you slowly bob your head. Looking up, you see Arthur’s eyes are now squinted shut in intense pleasure, breathing short shallow breaths, his hands hovering by your face, afraid to touch you. You wonder how long you could go on sucking him. You can handle all of his length no problem, but the issue was that bow in his girth. You could already feel your jaw getting sore, worried his thickness could pop it out of place.

It doesn’t take long though.

You continue to slurp along his cock, roaming your tongue upon his veins, relishing in the quiet moans and hisses coming from his plump lips. You take both hands and explore beyond his muscular hips and thighs, going around to grab onto his ass cheeks, feeling the dimples on the sides of his cheeks along the way. You continue sucking him hands-free, looking up at him, and he finally looks down at you. Seeing himself inside the mouth of a beautiful woman must have set him over the edge, as he involuntarily thrusts into your mouth. You sense he’s about to cum.

Immediately, you pop your mouth off his cock, denying him his release. Arthur gives a loud, rough groan at this denial and looks at you with passion in his eyes. You rise to your feet and feel his bulky hands grab harshly at your waist, yelping and giggling in surprise. Arthur rests his forehead against yours, his hands returning to grope your rear. You’re secretly begging for him to rip your trousers off and take you, as you’re soaking in anticipation. His mouth moves to your ear.

He whispers in a low growl, “Go lay down.”

You obey and step backwards, hitting the bed with the back of your knees, causing you to fall back gently onto the soft mattress. The springs squeak as you land. Meanwhile, Arthur kicks off his boots and removes the rest of his jeans that have pooled at his ankles, never breaking eye contact with you.

Lucky for you, there’s a full moon tonight, and the window curtains are torn, allowing the moonlight to shine into the dark room. Arthur stands completely naked before you, his skin glowing in the pale moonlight, the shadows accentuating every dip and curve of his muscles. He looks to be made of marble or porcelain, as if he’s been carved by Michaelangelo himself.

As he approaches you like a prowling wolf ready to strike its prey, your heartbeat races with excitement. You watch his dick lightly bounce up and down with each languid step he takes. He hovers over you on the bed, the springs of the mattress groan under his weight as he places both hands on either side of you. He moves to kiss you again. You can faintly taste the rum, now overpowered by beer and a hint of beef broth from the stew.

He’s much more aggressive with his tongue now, slipping it into your mouth and demanding control. You feel a warm hand slip under your shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your silky, soft breasts. In one smooth motion, Arthur pulls your shirt up over your head and tosses it on the floor, exposing you to him. For a moment, you feel self-conscious as he stops and stares at your naked torso. You begin to wonder if it’s not good enough for him, but you’re quickly mistaken as he drops his head to your chest and devours you, sucking and twirling his tongue on your left nipple while kneading the other with his hand. You let out a surprised and pleading moan at the sensation, the room filled with your raspy ‘oh’s’ and ‘ah’s’.

You let Arthur take more of you into his mouth as you arch your back off the bed, tenderly holding his head with both hands, pushing your breasts together as you do so. Arthur moans, sending a wonderful vibration onto your sensitive nipple. He picks his head up slightly, lips still latched onto your nipple, continuously sucking until it pops out of his mouth. He moves over to your other breast and repeats.

Writhing beneath him in pleasure, you desperately want to take your pants off, as they must be soaking wet by now. You move a hand from his luscious locks of hair and lower it between your bodies. Slipping your hand beneath your waistband, you rub a finger towards your opening and feel the juices pooling.

Arthur notices and straightens himself up, still straddling you and sitting back on his heels, his huge set conveniently resting on the fly of your trousers. He moves a burly hand to your crotch, unbuttoning the fly effortlessly with his lengthy fingers, the other slowly stroking his cock. A gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of his rough fingers exploring your vagina, his thumb hovering your clit. He slips a finger tenderly into your opening...then another.

“Damn, Y/N.” he sighs, “You’re soaked.”

You grin and bite your lower lip. Arching your hips, you wordlessly give Arthur permission to remove your pants, raising your butt off the bed. With both hands, he effortlessly slips your trousers off, taking your boots off with them, leaving you completely naked as you lean back on your elbows. 

Arthur returns to hover over you on the bed, both hands on either side of you on the mattress.

“You gonna show me how you please a woman?” you whisper provocatively.

“Thought the deal was you pleasin’ me?” he cites with a wink. His nose brushing against yours.

“Alright then.” You answer, and playfully bite his lower lip. “Lay on your back” you order gently, he gives you a confused look.

“Let me please you,” you assure him.

Arthur obeys and rolls off you to lay on his back. His hands laying idle on his chest. Swinging a leg over, you straddle him, looking down at him. His hands move from his chest to gently grasp your hips, softly rubbing your skin with his thumb. His eyes are gleaming in the bright moonlight. You no longer see sorrow in them, but pleasure. You reach down beneath you to grab his cock and stroke it gently, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lips open to allow a small moan to escape.

Lifting your hips, you lean forward and tease the both of you by rubbing his tip along your clit- the feeling of his sleek head sends a tingle to your core. Placing it right on the edge of your opening, you continue rubbing his cock along the outside of your vagina to lube him with your juices.

Arthur jerks his hips impatiently, so you take your cue. Adjusting your hips, you guide him into your opening, your slick wetness allowing him to slip perfectly inside you. Your breath hitches as you feel the entry of his tip, then comes the stretch of your walls as he slides his girthy member further. You both gasp at the sensation, freezing in place as you make it all the way down the base of his cock. You look into each other’s eyes, your body trembling, lips quivering as you relish in the feeling of his thick cock filling up your tight pussy.

“Oh, Arthur,” you whine.

Arthur tightens his grip on your hips, sinking his fingers deep into your flesh.

You straighten up and begin to steadily grind on his cock, allowing him to stretch your walls out further. Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head and the sound of his guttural moan beckons the return of goosebumps to your skin...like the low rumbling growl of a grizzly bear.

You begin to pick up the speed with his cock deep inside you, Arthur’s hips moving with you in sync. You lean forward on his chest and let him wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you close to him. You feel Arthur’s knees raise as he readies himself in a new position, his feet planted on the bed. He thrusts up into you, hard and quick. The sound of your skin clapping together echoes across the room.

“Oh...God!” you breathe, “You feel so good.”

Arthur groans and tightly shuts his lips.

“So do you,” he finally moans.

He continues to drive his hips upwards at a rapid pace. God, you’ve never laid with a man with so much strength, so much power.

You look up at the ceiling and cry out. You no longer care if anyone hears in the saloon below. You, m’lady, are getting pounded by Arthur Morgan, and you don’t give a damn who hears your screams.

You don’t want it to end. You want this moment to last all night.

“Hang on,” you say. Arthur pauses and releases his grip on you, allowing you to sit up.

Laying a hand on his chest to steady yourself, you bring your knees up and squat on your feet. With Arthur still inside you, you sit on him in a low, frog-like crouch. You bring both hands to his shoulders for stability while you slowly bounce up and down off his cock.

Arthur’s eyes go wide at the sight of you hopping up and down, seeing his penis disappear into you. This position is an amazing new discovery for him. Never has he had a woman ride him like this. The feeling of your lovely bottom smacking against his pelvis, the power of your thighs and calves holding your weight up as you raise and lower yourself on him...it’s enough to make him faint.

Yourself though, you’re quickly losing strength in your legs. You power through the burning in your calves, the twitching in your thighs. You focus your attention on the feeling between your legs, the divine feeling of Arthur’s cock inside you. Luckily, the curls of his pubic hair tickle your clit wonderfully as you hop up and down. You feel so close, and Arthur sounds like he is too. Suddenly, he grabs at your hips again and retakes control, relieving your tired legs. He thrusts upwards and pounds into you at a much more frantic pace, leaving you screaming.

“Oh, Arthur! I’m so close! Cum for me baby!” You shout, your voice high-pitched in ecstasy.

His thrusts falter as he drives himself in you as deep as he can, the two of you gripping each other tightly as you orgasm simultaneously. Explosions of color flash brightly behind your shut eyelids. Your body releases a rush of endorphins, wave after wave like an electric circuit. Once you’ve been released from your orgasms, you’re both left a panting, sweaty mess.

You roll off of him and lay back with a satisfied sigh, breasts heaving with every pant. Your eyes look to the ceiling as your head swims and the room spins.

“I never came like that before,” you confess, slightly embarrassed. Here you were bragging about being the greatses in bed, when you never even got your own rocks off by a man. Most were two-pump chumps who’d leave you high and dry. Well, more like wet and unfulfilled and with stains on your skirt.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Arthur turn his head towards you.

“Really?” He asks inquisitively. You turn to look at him and see a crooked smile on his face. He looks so pleased with himself. Turning back bashfully and laying your forearm across your eyes, you chuckle out a “Yeah.”

“Can’t say I have either,” he admits softly.

Quickly, you turn your head back to him and cock an eyebrow.

“So...I won the bet?” You ask with a big grin.

Arthur stays silent, only shrugging his shoulders and smiling as he rolls over on his side to wrap himself around you. He was never one to admit he’s been proved wrong. So you accepted your victory in silence, rolling to your side to let Arthur spoon you.

It may already be a warm night, but you enjoyed the heat from his body huddled close to you. You feel safe and secure in the weight of his arms, though you worry if you need to pee you might not break out of his heavy embrace. Nevertheless, your eyelids quickly pull down like weighted curtains on a stage, as you fall into a deep sleep.