Arthur Morgan X Reader - Blog Posts

Shooting Your Shot

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 3.4K

Summary: Arthur makes good on his promise to teach you how to shoot. You struggle with this time alone with him due to your seemingly unrequited feelings for him.

Warnings: sfw, guns, shooting, bullets, me not knowing anything about guns so being intentionally vague about them, reader and Arthur are both fools, kissing, Arthur and reader are touched starved, physical affection

A/N: @sharinkashaf Fucking please let Arthur teach reader how to shoot. ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for the idea for this one! also thank you for all the love on my first one shot that I posted the other day, I will be working on a part 2 for it! please if you have any ideas or things you want to see me write for Arthur let me know! once again, warning that it has been years since I’ve last written anything so it’s not perfect

You smirked into your coffee mug as the high pitched whines of Sean’s complaints sounded around camp. You had been half sitting on one of the camps tables, watching as Tilly had defeated Sean in dominoes for what must have been the fifth time in a row. Despite Sean’s insistence that the younger girl must have been cheating, or was secretly a professional dominos player, his words were met with rolling of eyes and laughter as the games continued.

There was a good mood sunken over the camp that morning. It had seemed like you had all reached a string of good luck - for once, you didn’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The donation box was full, people were smiling amongst themselves and even the coffee didn’t taste as bad as it normally did.

You knew who this all was thanks to. For weeks, Arthur had been slaving himself, constantly out of camp and on missions, scouting out new resources and pulling through with every plan Dutch had given him. Your heart fluttered at the thought of him, but you willed yourself not to turn to look for him, even though you had noted his absence near the centre of camp all morning. Silently, you prayed that wherever he was, he was able to take advantage of the peacefulness in camp that he had helped bring about.

A hand settled on your shoulder, causing you to jump and loose grip of your coffee mug. With one hand still on your shoulder, Arthur swooped in and grabbed your mug before it could clatter to the ground. Speak of the devil, you thought - you didn’t dare say it out loud, not wanting the man to know how at home he was in your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” he said, his body so close to yours’ that it felt like he was whispering directly into your ear.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder. Your coffee mug and what little coffee remained in it was forgotten as Arthur set it on the table you rested by.

“S’alright. Didn’t startle me too bad.” you replied, craning your head to look up at him from your close proximity. Arthur just stared back at you, seemingly in thought.

“You need something?” You asked, suddenly aware that any moment longer in this position might have you spontaneously combust into flames.

Arthur blinked, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. His lack of touch made the spot on your shoulder where his hand had sat feel cold.

“Was just wondering if you’d be free. Shooting practice. Like I’d promised you.”

You remembered this promise vividly. You had been certain that he hadn’t though. It had been weeks since that talk. You had been running with the gang for close to a year now. While you were good at pickpocketing and scamming out drunk men, you were deeply aware that your gun work needed immense practice. There had been more than a few close calls that frightened you by now, ones that would have frightened you less had you been more skilled in shooting. Your skills were passable - you could pull the trigger on the gun enough times to scare off more passive enemies but you were slow to draw and even slower to hit where you wanted to. After a few drinks round the camp fire, you had confessed this insecurity to Arthur. You weren’t sure why him. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he was the best gunman in camp by far. Maybe because you were hopelessly in love with him.

You took a deep breath to try simmer down the swell of emotion in your chest. He had drunk that night too - you were certain that his promise to make you a better shooter was just the alcohol speaking.

“We’ll make a proper gunslinger of you yet, darlin’.” he had slurred, before chugging another sip of whiskey and passing you the bottle. When you drank from the bottle after him, you did it slowly: it wasn’t just the whiskey you’d wanted a taste of now.

“I’m free. I’ll just go get my horse ready-”

“Ain’t no need. We won’t go far, we can just go on mine if it’s alright with you.” he interrupted, breaking his stare from you to peer off at nothing beside him. His hand rubbed at where his shirt collar touched his neck as he waited for your response. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“S’alright with me. Where we going?” At your confirmation, he began to walk off with you beside him towards where his mare stood.

“I set up some targets in the clearing east of ‘ere earlier this morning. Empty enough we’ll not be heard, but still close enough to camp that we won’t be bothered by anyone,” He replied, setting up a layer of blanket just behind his saddle on his horse, “You alright sitting behind?”

You would sit anywhere as long as it let you be close to him. You didn’t tell him that - you just hummed a yes and watched as he pulled himself up onto his horse, sitting slightly farther forward than he usually would.

He held out his hand and you accepted it, trying to ignore how small you felt in his grasp. You have yourself a boost with one leg in the empty stirrups, and flung your other leg over the horse.

“Sitting alright?” He asked. Your hand was still in his, his finger closed over yours with his thumb gently dragging up and down your hand in a way that weirdly comforted you. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but it was increasingly difficult for you not to.

“Yeah, m’fine.” You responded. You felt like your whole body was on fire. Your chest was pressed up against his back, your knees pressing against his upper thighs to secure your place on the horse.

Arthur’s thumb stopped moving as if it suddenly occurred to him that he was still holding your hand. He released it, grabbing his horse’s rope and grunting a response back to you. With your hands now free, you placed them underneath his bent arms, gingerly clutching onto his waist. If your touch had bothered him, Arthur did not say.

Your journey to the clearing was uneventful and quiet. An uneasy anxiety settled over your stomach. You had wished that Arthur could have a day of peace, but here he was, having to teach you how to shoot because you were too bad of a shot to protect yourself. You felt bad that you had pressured him into this. You felt bad that he was always made to look after everyone in camp all of the time. You felt bad that despite this, all you could think about was the feeling of his stomach underneath your fingertips as your arms wrapped around his waist.

His horse came to a stop and you could see what Arthur had been doing all morning. Crates had been stacked up around a tree, the various heights of the crates displaying different sizes and shapes of tins and glass bottles. The bottles had been placed in the branches of the tree itself, with shards of glass strung up, hanging down from the tree by strands of a thin rope. The sun shone down on the tree, reflecting the colours of the glass onto the ground, a mirage of different colours.

“Wow. This looks great Arthur. Like a proper shootin’ range an’ all.” You said to him as he stood on the grass beside you, helping you down from his horse.

“S’nothin’. Just took a lil’ time this morning.” He looked away from you, pulling his hand away from yours once your feet were steady on the ground. He rubbed at his neck again.

“It ain’t nothing, Arthur. Must’ve took some time. Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry, I know you got better things to be doing.” It was getting hard to swallow with how full your heart felt.

Arthur turned his head back to you at your words. His brow furrowed as he began to speak.

“You don’t got nothing to be sorry about. There ain’t nothing better for me to do but to spend time with you.” Arthur froze slightly at the end of his sentence, as if he had said something he didn’t mean to say. A slight blush spread across his face and he looked away from you again.

You reached out bravely and touched his upper arm.

“Thank you, Arthur. Truly.”

Arthur nodded before turning and getting his pistol out of his saddle bag behind you. Upon a further glance, you realised it wasn’t his usual pistol at all. It was new you thought, a shiny Schofield Revolver with a pearl handle and gold metal. Something was engraved onto the frame, but in the reflection of the sun you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Arthur passed you the gun and a hand full of bullets, indicating for you to get the gun ready. Thankfully, this was something you didn’t need taught - after finishing, you hand the gun back to Arthur where he inspects it and hums out a response.

He passes you back the gun and begins walking closer to the tree. As you follow him, you note that he’s created a guideline in the grass of where the stand, with another stack of creates beside it. He sits down on the crates and nods for you to stand in position on the grass.

“I just want to see what we’re working with first - aim for the glass bottles on the second row if you can,” He says, leaning back on the crate and taking out an apple from his bag. He starts to cut it into slices with his knife, eating it piece by piece.

You hold the gun in front of you with two hands. You’re trembling slightly. You hate the fact that he’s watching you. More than that, you hate the fact that he’s watching you and you don’t know what he’s thinking.

The sound and recoil of the gun makes you jump slightly. You miss any bottle completely, the bullet skimming into the vacant air beside the crates. You shoot again, less shocked by the recoil this time, but still an awful shot. Again, you shoot, this time hitting the corner of one of the crates. It’s still no where near where your aiming, but you’re hitting something so you can’t help but feel slightly proud. You shoot, again, again, again. You manage to hit a tin can four objects down from the bottle you aim for on the second row. Your ears are ringing in your head and your hands feel tight from their grip around the gun. From behind you, you hear Arthur come towards you from his place on the crate. He’s good at going unnoticed when he wants to despite his large size, but now, he makes his presence known to you, his chest skimming your back.

“Right foot backwards, steady yourself.” He’s leaning his head down to speak directly to your ear. Your heart beats a little bit quicker but you follow his request, moving your right leg slightly backwards till it connects with his. You position your foot right in front of his. His left leg adjusts to settle right behind your left one. Your breathing gets a bit quicker also.

“Need you completely straight. Always facing towards where your aiming to match up your sights.” His voice rings in your head. Need you, need you, need you. His hands land on either side of your waist, swivelling you slightly to face you completely towards the tree, your legs staying in the same position supported by the feeling of his behind you. You think his hands stay on your waist a few seconds longer than they should do.

He guides his hands up to your shoulders. He moves them slightly too, more gentle than anyone who’s ever met him would ever expect him to be capable of. Except you. From the day you’d met Arthur, you knew exactly what he would be capable of, despite his insistence that he was a bad man. But you knew: a bad man would not be spending his day holding you so close and so gently like this for no benefit of his own.

He grabs each of your hands with his own from underneath your arms. He’s holding them up, supporting you, slightly stretching forward now to position the gun in front of you. His front is fully pressed up against you. You can feel it now - his own heartbeat is just as quick as yours.

His head is resting against yours, his neck craning down to adjust to your smaller size in comparison to his.

Together, as one, you lift the gun to aim at the bottle on the second row. His finger wraps around yours to guide you into pulling the trigger. He speaks again, so close to you he’s almost apart of you, his voice meant for nothing else except for speaking to you.

“Breathe in as you aim. Keeps you still,” You do as he tells you, feeling his own chest expand behind you and you breath together, “Shoot on the exhale. You got this sweetheart.”

You exhale at the same time as him, the heaviness of your breaths cancelled out by the loud bang as the shot rings out. You hear a splinter and crack as your bullet collides with its target. Not dead centre, but you’ve hit it, and that’s good enough. If you were so preoccupied on steadying your heartbeat at the feeling of Arthur pressing against you, you might have cried out in triumph.

“Good girl.” Arthur whispers to you. You aren’t sure if it’s the sound of the bullets ringing in your ears or his voice anymore. You know that because you can feel his heartbeat in his chest behind you, he can feel yours too. You know that the smirk you feel spread across his face as he presses against the side of your head is because he can feel how his praise made your heart skip another beat.

You keep shooting like that; Arthur guiding you with his own body and you hitting every target every time. After a while Arthur pulls his arms back from yours. You almost deflate at his absence but he doesn’t remove himself from your back. Instead he places his hands on your waist and tells you to keep going.

When you shoot again, Arthur’s lack of guidance is noticeable - but not extremely. You’re better than you were, the bullet landing a centimetre off from the tin can you now aim for. You shoot again creating a whole just off the centre of the can. You shoot again, the bullet disappearing seamlessly into the previous hole. Arthur squeezes at your hips as you grin.

It continues on like that: you shoot, more often than not hitting the target spot on or hitting it on your second try, and Arthur, a constant behind you squeezing his hands in congratulations on your waist, inching them closer and closer until eventually he has almost enveloped you completely in a backwards hug. He murmurs appreciation every so often, and your heart has stopping beating a little quicker every time this happens. In fact, his mere presence has made your constant heartbeat so fast already that there is little change.

The gun clicks, the chamber empty. You’re scared to breathe, worried that any sudden move will scare Arthur out of your arms, like a prey spotting it’s hunter. But it’s Arthur who breaks the stillness, removing his hands from your waist to bring your arms down to your chest, the gun still clutched between your hands. His arms come to clutch around your waist again, circling you completely as his hands meet by your stomach. You feel him swallow heavily. In this moment, there is nothing else in the world but him behind you and his hands round your waist.

You hold the gun in one hand and with the other you gently place it over his hands on your stomach: you’re scared that as you spin in place on your feet to face him that he’ll move away, so you hold his hands in place.

You can’t meet his eyes, looking at his chest and downwards as you place the gun from your hand into his holster around his waist. It’s your turn to swallow heavily now.

As you raise your gaze to look at his face, you find him already staring at you. You are still, desperately away of his hands, now settled low on the small of your back.

“That was great work there.” He says, not breaking eye contact with you as his voice barely breaks past a whisper.

“I had a great teacher.” You whisper back. He smiles at that, and you smile back as though you’ve just shared a secret meant just for the two of you. As the blue of his eyes brighten in the sun, you think that maybe you have.

His head tilts downwards, just barely enough to notice it. But you notice. You’ve always noticed every detail about Arthur, just as he’s always noticed you.

“Please.” You ask him, voice quiet and pleading as you break his stare to glance towards his lips.

He answers.

You’re practically on your toes, supported by his tightened grip around your back. His mouth connects to yours, gently and unsure at first. You hand comes up to rest against the side of his face, the other holding on to the collar of his shirt, brushing against his neck. At this, his kiss deepens, pulling you tighter against him. You use your grip on his collar to do the same, pulling yourself as close as you can into his chest.

After the moment passes, you both pull apart. He rests his forehead against yours. He’s breathing heavily, eventually chuckling out a laugh on the exhale.

“Been wanting to do that for a while.” You can hear the smile in his voice with your eyes still closed. His hands on your back, his forehead against yours. You feel like every atom in your body is on fire. For a while, he had said. For a while, you thought back, that I have been missing out on every moment like this.

“Should’ve done it sooner, then. Thought it was just me feeling like this.” You said, a deep sigh erupting from your chest. He can hear the smile in your voice too.

One hand leaves it place at your waist to hold your face. Не pulls further away to look down at you. He’s still smiling.

“And I thought it was just me.”

There’s a little bit of an ache in your chest. A bit of sadness on how long you both had wasted hiding away from each other. But neither of you are hiding now. You press your palm against his chest and feel his heart beat under his shirt. It’s fast, just like yours.

A moment passes before you both realise there is more than each other left in the word. The sky has darkened considerably, the sun settling in the early evening. Neither of you had eaten and you were both starting to feel a hunger for something other than each other.

“We should probably head back to camp.” You say, still unmoving from your proximity to him. Neither of you want to leave this moment.

“Probably. And you can show off everything you’ve learnt today.” He says. He still cradles your face in his hands, his thumb moving softly back and forth on the apple of your cheek.

“Everything I’ve learnt?” You smirk up at his, loosing your previous fixation of your hand on his chest. He chuckles, and he feel the movement of his chest course right through you.

“Maybe not everything.” He replies, his eyes soft as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel the moment come to a close. Not wanting to waste any last second you could spend alone with Arthur like this, after having missed out on so many others in the past, you cling to every bit of it. Before either of you can detach from the other, you grab him by his shirt collar again and pull him down for another kiss.

Additional Content:

You both depart from Arthur’s horse a little before necessary as you make the journey back to camp. The horse clambers along behind you both. You’re both pensive and quiet, but when your hand grazes against his from it’s place by your side, Arthur grasps it and keeps it intertwined with his. You walked further before Arthur’s stops to a sudden holt, his grip on your hand forcing you to stop with him.

“Almost forgot.” He murmured, looking bashful as his cheeks blushed red. He reached down with his other hand, not loosing his hold on your hand, grabbing hold of the pistol you had practiced with and holding it out to you.

You aren’t sure what he means so you respond by raising your eyebrows at him and waiting for him to expand.

“S’a gift. For you. Got it custom in town for ya.” He’s still blushing but he manages to glance into your eyes. He’s searching for something, and you realise he’s worried about how you’ll respond.

You can see the engraving on the gun more clearly now as it rests in his hand. Flowers, your favourite, blooming up through an imprint on the outside of the metal. Your name intertwines with the flowers, the letters flowing into the blossoming leaves.

You reach out towards his outstretched hand, but instead of grabbing the pistol you clasp your hand together with his and pull yourself towards him. You press a small kiss to his lips and as you pull away you smile at him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say looking up at him, hoping he found what he was searching for before, “for everything.

𝙰𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗 & 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ;)

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (giving & receiving) s3x, fingering, handj0b, soft & rough Arthur, gentlemen Arthur, V!rgin reader 

Notes: I know you guys voted Sub Abby, ✌𝓢𝓤𝓑 𝓐𝓑𝓑𝓨 ✌ WILL BE POSTED NEXT I had been working on this Red Dead project a while ago so I hope you don’t take it too negatively. Thanks for all the support I’ve had so far, it means a lot that people can enjoy my work (even if it’s mostly smut.)

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Notorious outlaw Arthur Morgan, who has been forced into a tight, high end tux in a crammed, high end place hates everything about this party Dutch made him attend. That is until he meets a fancy woman, (you) who isn’t as dull as he originally suspected. 

PLEASE NOTE: there’s no fluid 1850s language used so don’t be upset if there’s some modern slang or anything I’m just writing cause I’m bored. 

Some Y/N is mentioned, I try to avoid Y/N at all costs but there was no way around it this time, I’m sorry guys but it’s only a few times so dw.

The mission was practically a laughing matter- being that the guest of honour was a drug lord and that Arthur and the others were all outlaws who wouldn’t know which utensil to use at dinner to save their life, which glass to drink from or their name, how to feel normal in a suit, how to not steal every beautiful piece of decor they encountered and how to even speak with all these…well-read, well off folk. 

The mission itself seemed simple enough. Talk to the governor, make a good impression and snoop around. Having to give the doormen their weapons was just another reminder of how far out of his comfort zone he was. 

When the champagne was offered Arthur immediately took a glass, looking over the porch and subtly acknowledging Dutch beside him. Bronte greets them warmly and starts pointing out and mocking some of the party guests, including Mayor Henri Lemiux, Alberto Fussar, Hobart Crawley and his wife Brenda. Once the group seperate, Arthur makes his way to the main floor.

“Okay…” Arthur mumbled to himself, grimly. “Mingle…” He looks around the crowd. There are people dancing, talking, making out of course, He doesn’t know where to go first. That is until he hears you talking to some man.

“You…flatter me.” You tell him, clearly lying. “However I am…reserving my dance for another…” You say, quickly. Arthur turns to face you and see’s the most beautiful gown he’s ever seen. It’s a white corset that extends down into an ocean of subtle ruffles. The material looks stiff and the bottom has specks of gold. 

The man in question is overweight and if he was being honest, smelt rank. He felt sorry for you, whoever you were, he had suspected you were dragged to this thing too, fancy dress and all. 

“I don’t see him.” The man said, putting his arms around your hips. You carefully remove them and he grabs your arm tightly.

“Where you goin’ princess?” He says, and something in Arthur almost snaps, he wants to snap. He knows he can’t make a scene so he walks behind you, whispering in your ear. His warm breath and the unexpectedness of it all initially makes you flinch, but ANYONE would be better than this slag. You had seen him get handsy with almost every female employee here and on the streets you had heard him getting creepy with fucking children. Thankfully it hadn’t escalated, at least so far.

“You alright miss?” Arthur questions in your ear. You turn over to look at him. He’s tall and awful handsome, not like any men you had seen at the party so far. He had gorgeous eyes of Atlantic blue and his hair was…almost perfect. It looked like whatever product he used was far from his regular style as the parting was all over the place, but his jawline and minimal facial hair tied the look together. 

“Uh…here he is.” You said, stunned at your own words. He looks at you icily. “Uh….That’s not-“

“Who is that? I ain’t seen him before.” The man yells at you, completely ignoring Arthurs existence. Arthur sighs.

“I’m her…partner….tonight anyway.”  You nod. 

“Exactly, and I owe him a dance so if you don’t mind.”

“Fuck you, how would your daddy react to you dancing with some nameless stranger?” The man groans at you. You roll your eyes.

“Go hang.” You say, quietly, but Arthur still hears it and his eyes widen, impressed. 

“He gon’ hear about it from me just you wait”

“Looking forward to it.” You tell him, and the man goes off somewhere. You let out a groan, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

“I am so sorry Mr…?”

“Uh...that’s not important. And you’re welcome. Who was that?” He asks. You sigh. 

“Not important.” You grab his hands and start swirling around and his face flushes red.

“Miss I…ain’t much of a dancer.”

“Well it would be a damn waste not to dance after that little facade.” He looks at you, a little confused, but nods.

“What brings you here anyway?” You ask, his large hand on your waist, the other in your gloved palm. Arthur can’t help but smile, still taking in your figure. 

“My friends and I were invited by Bronte, he’s a guest here.”

“I see. So you’re here to make impressions?

“Or some such thing.” He replies, still blushing like an idiot. You talk for a little while, swaying to the music, talking about everything and nothing as if he’s the most trustworthy person out there.

“I hate going to these things.” You tell him, a little worried you had ruined the weirdly peaceful atmosphere the two of you had been experiencing. He nods, watching you intently while still trying to maintain rhythm.

“You look like a million bucks. I would have assumed you were made for these things.” He stumbles. 

His lack of fluidness when talking was weirdly attractive, it brought a sense of comfort which you rarely felt, especially with his accent. 

“In a way I was made for it…these parties are my life whether I like it or not.”

“I couldn’t imagine it.” Arthur blurts out, and you look up at him with curiosity. 

“I knew you weren’t a noble.” You say with a grin. He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Why? Do I smell like poor folk?” You laugh at his comment. 

“No, no the camp smell is…luxurious.” “I’ll have you know I bathed before I came here.” He replied defensively, causing you to laugh more. This banter went on until he spotted Lemieux.

“Excuse me.” He says, not even waiting for the dance to end before approaching your father. The mayor's butler, Pierre appears and tells Lemieux that he received a phone call from Leviticus Cornwall. Another man with greasy black hair overhears this and has Arthur follow Pierre to find out about it. 

Being as cautious as you can, you slip through and follow Arthur to see what he’s doing. You watch him follow Pierre into an office and enter it once Pierre leaves. Arthur starts trying to unlock the door when you come in.

“So you’re not just not a noble, you’re a thief.” You remark, causing him to spin his head around to face you.

“Miss…” He tries. You roll your eyes.

“Save it. What are you even looking for?”

“Look, this is all just a misunderstanding, I’m sure if you just let me go, we can both forget this ever happened, I’ll be on my way and you can go back to your life of parties.” He tries, lowering the document in his hand.

You walk over to him, leaning over his shoulder to see the document.

“Wow.” You say, unimpressed. He looks at you guiltily. 

“Look, I’m sorry miss, you seem real nice and I meant no disrespect by coming here and…acting all decent, I’m just doing what I’m told.” He tries, his voice sounding like a plead at this point. 

“Mmm, what Dutch Van Der Linde told you to do, right? He was that man with the excessive hair pomade and the…vests. I’ve heard about him.”

“What?? You know of me??” Arthur demanded. You put a soft, gloved hand to his mouth.

“Shhh, do you know how much trouble we would be in if we were discovered in here? I had suspected you were an outlaw but the only one I recognised was Dutch and Bronte.” Arthur isn’t paying attention to your words so much as he is the warm hand on his mouth. 

“Who are you?” He asks. You shake your head. 

“What are you going to do with the papers?”

“Look, it isn’t really business for a lady to-“ You glare at him and he fumbles his words again. 

“Not to say a lady can’t…my meaning is-“

“So a robbery?” You interrupt, unimpressed by his long winded explanation. He sighs.

“St Denis is a big city…it don’t need quite so many vaults in that bank they have secured up real nice.” He says. You roll your eyes,

“You can not be that foolish. Doing any sort of crime in St Denis is suicide unless you have a bullet proof escape plan and I’m sorry but I smelt your bullshit from a mile away.”

“You have quite the tongue for a lady.”

“And you are just…something else for a gentlemen.” You retort. 

All of a sudden you hear the jittering of keys at the door and you and Arthur exchange a look of panic.

“Oh Jesus.” Arthur mutters and you roll your eyes.

“Swearing isn’t helping, outlaw. Try that window.”

“I have a name-“

“Then say it.”

“It-“ He groans, wondering how the fuck he got into this situation and why he was involving himself with a random woman. A beautiful and intelligent one at that, one who definitely challenged him in a way he enjoyed, but also one who was getting in the fucking way.

“It’s Arthur…” He pauses, turning to look at you when he reaches the window. “Morgan.” He adds. 

The window won’t open and so you shove the document back into the draw and lean Arthur against the window, pressing your mouth against his aggressively. He was clearly shocked, and who wouldn’t be? But still, almost like an instinct, his lips parted and his tongue moved skillfully through your mouth. Henry Lemieux walks in an audibly gasps. 

“Y/N Lemieux what the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry father I…let me explain.” Arthurs ears burn at this. Father??

“You listen here little girl, I have told you NEVER to go in here. What’s gotten into you? And on such a significant night with some stranger??”

“My rooms always guarded and I just wanted some privacy. Arthur and I have been seeing each other for some time but I knew I couldn’t take him here. I’m sorry I let you down this is just the only place I knew there wouldn’t be workers.”

He sighs. “I understand there are a lot of rules in this household that may make you…may make it feel like there’s not as much freedom as ideal but it’s to protect you! You need to be more careful with strangers.” He yells, walking over to Arthur.

“Mmm, Bronte invited you I take? I don’t know you otherwise and I know anyone who’s anyone, meaning there’s no way you’re good enough for my daughter. Did you try and take her honour? Is that it?”

“We were just talking, that was our first kiss father honest it was.” Arthur puts his hands up innocently, nodding at your comment. Henry lets out an annoyed gush of air..

“I want you both out of here, we will discuss your punishment later, my daughter.” You nod and drag him to your room, waving at the guards there to fuck off. They stare at you blankly.

“Men are not allowed I-“

“My father just allowed it, but if you don’t trust me, you can go bother him in his study, I’m sure he’d be thrilled.” You tell one of them, annoyed. He nods and the guards head downstairs. You close the door and Arthur is just looking at you, wide eyed. He turns to the door and you sigh.

“I’m…not allowed locks.” You explain. He doesn’t say anything. 

“So…” You say. He angrily paces around the room.

“What the fuck…what the fuck??” 

“Calm down Mr Morgan.” You say, unphased. He glares a you. 

“Calm down?? I did more than just fuck up. I exposed my whole fucking plan to the governors daughter just because she was a pretty face I- fuck, this was a bad plan.” Arthur mumbled to himself. You smile slightly.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I got to go…” He says, reaching towards the door. You walk in front of it.

“Why?” You ask, plainly.

“What?”

“Why do you have to go?” You question, He walks closer to you, his eyes darting around the room nervously. 

“Well you’re just gonna tell your dad won’t ya?”

“Oh yeah cause I just lied for fun Mr Morgan that’s a real bright comment.”

“Well why else would you do it? You don’t know me.”

“You’re an outlaw. Slightly naive, perhaps, but you, hair pomade and whoever else is in your group, you do anything you can for family. Even utterly foolish things such as breaking into the governments office and robbing the most secure bank in this country. I’m not going to inform my father. I can respect what you were…trying but if you try that whole St Denis thing, you can rest assured you will be walking into your own damn funeral.”

“Well what else would you suggest then, miss?? In case you haven’t noticed, men like me don’t get good paying jobs, unless it’s for folk like you who would never hire us.”

“Trains, small stores, homesteads…” You pause. “boats.”

He raises an eyebrow. 

‘You’re encouraging I steal, my lady?” You practically snort at his comment.

“In essence. People ‘like me’ don’t REALLY need those gold emerald earrings or platinum laced watches. It’s less stealing than it is…balance.” You say, matter-of-factly. He can’t deny how impressed and surprised he is by you. A government daughter, gorgeous, smart, fancy as hell but most importantly you didn’t hate him, and that meant more to him than words could measure.

“The grand Korrigan holds high end poker games. It’s easier than you’d think to sneak on, I’ve done it myself, it’s in Lemoyne.”

“W- I’m sorry, you snuck on to the grand Kerrigan….in lemoyne?”

“I heard my father talk about it. I was bored.”

“Why would you help me? I mean isn’t it against your father in some way?”

“How I see it, you were going to do this anyway, I’m not helping at all, simply telling you where it is so that you don’t go kill yourself at the bank. If I were to…accompany you, then perhaps I wouldn’t feel inclined to tell my father you were in there to steal copies of the deed my father was going to sign.” 

“Okay woah, slow down my lady-“

“You really don’t have to call me that…”

“I really do. Now listen, there is no way we’re getting involved  with the governers daughter, I’m sorry that you get bored dressing up like a doll 3 times a day and having guards around you but that’s no excuse to go commit crimes…”

“I won’t be committing them, you will.”

“Still, I don’t want to be liable for you.”

“Wow…romantic.” You say, sarcastically. He sighs.

“That’s not what I mean it’s just….the answer is no.”

“I’ve snuck on before, I know heaps of ways to sneak in and out of this city as well several others. When you can’t leave town there’s nothing else to do but learn about everyone else’s business. I guarantee I could get you into anywhere. Plus I cn protect myself, I’ve been trained in combat since I was 14.”

“But why?” He asks. But he doesn’t need to. He knows the answer. He felt it when you guys first touched and again when you first kissed. He felt it now knowing you’ve seen through him and didn’t want to look away. You weren’t frightened or repulsed and neither one of you wanted to part each other. It was unexplainable. You barely knew each other. 

“I can’t keep letting my life slip away in this meaningless existence. I want adventure, love I don’t know…I know I’m stupid for think-“

“Don’t talk about yourself like that sweetheart” Arthur says, putting a hand on your face.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He says, dragging his thumb over your lip and making it part slightly. You nod.

“It would be reckless…we would be naive to think we won’t get caught.” You breathe out. He nods.

“We would probably…” Arthur paused, his accent thick in your ears. “get as far as the gate before everything goes sideways, not to mention the gang would never accept you.” You nod back.

“exactly.”

“Exactly.” He says, putting his other hand on your face and kissing you deeply.

———————————Smut——————————————

You can taste residue of the sweet, bubbly champagne he had drank only moments earlier mixed with the metallic taste of his being. Having someones tongue in your mouth and particularly a man who was anything but inexperienced was unusual to say the least, but a feeling you welcomed as he eagerly explored and savoured your taste now too. 

You walk back with your arms still wrapped around his neck, kissing him roughly. You flinch slightly when you bump into the end of your bed. You hesitate for a moment, looking into his pretty eyes again before internally making a decision and climbing onto your bed. He tilts his head, admiring you fondly. 

“Now Miss, I don’t think we should rush this, you’re a woman. To be…I don’t know…cared for or somethin’. Me? I’m a bad man.” Arthur hesitates. “A rough man.” He corrects.

“It’s okay Morgan, I’m not a little girl, I can handle it.” He walks away from the bed and paces for a while. You decide to reassure him with more than just words this time and remove your shoes, then you start working on the lace at the back of your dress. Arthur sighs, knowing he won’t be able to avoid all the things he’ll do to you. He’s a good man, somewhere in there. When it comes to women he was more decent than most at least.

“Let me help you with that.” He says, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you so your back is right against the front of his body. He removes it and starts working at your undergarments. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asks. You shake your head.

“No?” You say, more surprised at how gentle he’s being with you than anything else. He chuckles softly.

“Just making sure.” He coos before effortlessly removing your undergarments as well. 

He flips you around and pushes you so you’re lying spread across the bed. He climbs over you, positioning himself so his knee is between your legs. You feel nervous with your body exposed to him like this. He starts tracing your body with his finger tips.

“You’re god damn gorgeous.” He remarks, cupping one of your warm breasts which you were embarrassed at how quickly the nipple on it hardened under his touch. He lays soft kisses all over your chest, sucking near your bellybutton which got an excited gasp from you in response. He continues drawing lines across your body with the two middle fingers of his right hand but stops when he reaches your lower area. 

“You ever done anything like this before?” He asks, kissing your waistline. You consider lying. “Of course…” You could say, but he’d see right through it. You just didn’t want him to back up and leave because he didn’t want to harm your image. Too fucking gentlemanly to taint a womans reputation, but murder and crime? Now that’s alright.

“Well?” He questions again. You blush, shaking your head.

“No, I guess not.” You admit. You can see this troubles him, but he knows you don’t want to stop, he can tell you’re yearning for it, yearning for him more specifically.

“You know how it all works?” He asks, lowering himself to your thighs and kissing inside. You nod.

“Yeah, yeah I think so.” You reply, your eyes fluttering at the varying sensations your body was experiencing. He nods.

“Sit on my lap, I’m gonna put my fingers in okay?” You do as he says, sitting on his fancy black pants and adjusting yourself so that he’s comfortable. He lets out a light groan.

“God, sorry did I hurt you Mr Morgan?” He chuckles slightly.

“Quite the opposite, stay still I need to be able to control myself.” He instructs, and you feel yourself pooling at his words. 

“Do you have water in this room?” He asks, and you look at him confused. 

“Uh, yeah, by my nightstand theres a jug, I get thirsty sometimes at night.” 

“Be right back.” He says, placing you back on the bed and taking the jug, pouring some water onto his fingers.

“If you’re uh…sort of….tight inside, it feels better with wet fingers.” He explains. You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re not the smoothest man out there Mr Morgan.” You tease. He laughs back.

“Pretty girls have that effect on me.” He delicately guides his two middle fingers between your folds and your pussy literally glistens. You’ve never felt wet for another person before and especially not to this extent. 

“Breathe in.” He says as he guides two fingers inside you and you let out a sharp breath. He immediately removes his fingers.

“Too much, my lady?” You shake your head.

“No, no I can take it.” You affirm and he rolls his eyes playfully. 

“Sweetheart, I can tell the difference between a painful gasp and a moan. You’re still tight so I’m going to use my tongue to help you relax.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just think of it like a kiss.” He says before putting his tongue inside you. You let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard yourself make and you put your fist in your mouth, embarrassed.

“Oh my god…” You whisper as he quickens his movements. Then, his nose is bumping up against your clit, his tongue still working other areas.

“Fuck~” You moan. You can guess all your manners and lessons in how to be dignified had gone down the drain. 

A man you had met only today, an outlaw no less who was only at the party to steal from your father was giving you pleasure you could never give yourself. It was….interesting.

“Fuck…Fuck Arthur don’t go so fast I’ll…it’s too much…” But Arthurs so fucking into it, tasting you, savouring every orgasmic noise you make for the first time, only for his ears to enjoy. He doesn’t slow down and it’s not long before your pussy pulses in his mouth, your thighs shaking like a damn leaf. 

“He gets back up and puts you on his lap again, putting his fingers in your slick.

“Wow, that’s quite a lot sweetheart.”

“I’ve never….well not like that before.” You explain. He nods, putting his fingers inside your significantly looser hole, doing small beckoning motions inside of you. You start breathing heavy again as he pumps his fingers in and out. You cling onto his jacket, already feeling your stomach swell in waves of pleasure. When you release again, he just flashes you a satisfied look.

“I’m gonna take my pants off. You can rub yourself on my thigh first, gotta get you ready for my cock.”  You’re flushing red and just let out a small sound of understanding. When you see his half-hard cock in his underwear, though, you are so consumed with lust you can’t think of anything else but touching it.

“Go on get on my thigh.” Arthur tells you with a comforting smile. He notices your hesitant expression.

“What is it?” 

“I want to touch you.” You blurt out. He smirks.

“Really?” He asks. You nod. 

“Please.” Arthur gets off better through pleasuring others, but you’re so beautifully eager that he doesn’t think twice.

“Here.” He says, taking off the glove on your right hand and guiding it into his (boxers? Whatever tf they had back then) It was warm and felt very strange in a way you weren’t sure you liked, however feeling it grow in the palm of your hand was satisfying. You pulled the pants further down, taking out his cock. It was pretty well groomed and a lot cleaner than you had anticipated. It was also big. You knew it would be, he was practically a cowboy and you definitely knew what they said about cowboys.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it sternly over his shaft.

“Move your thumb over the tip…” He moves your fingers, rubbing himself with them.

“Like this. Then with your hand, apply press- mm” He lets out a low groan.

“And move up and down like this.” You nod, smiling a little awkwardly as you go up and down as fast as you can. Arthur rolls his head back.

“Damn….thats the way sweetheart fuck~” Arthur babbled. You smile, liking the effect you had on him.You continued at that pace and pressure for a while until his moans had progressed into hot fucking whimpers. He smirks at you knowingly. 

“This turn you on gorgeous?” You don’t reply with words, just a simple nod. He hums in response. 

“Show me how much.”

You remove your hand from his cock and reach down to your cunt, getting a thick layer of your slick from your fingers and showing him, clearly still embarrassed.He acknowledges this with a fond look of satisfaction. 

“Coat my cock with it.” He instructs, and your eyes widen at his bluntness. 

“I-“ You stop yourself, deciding your words were of little value in a situation like this. You do as he says, applying a thing layer of your spent and moving even faster. He moans at the sensation and warm precum floods your hands. You look up at him nervously.

“Wait…did you?” 

“No sweetheart, you gotta do more than that.”

“Then why? What is…” you say, your fingers fidgeting with the liquid on your hands. He chuckles, fuck his laugh is attractive, too. 

“It happens a little before. When it feels good, it means I’m close just keep going sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me.” You nod and go faster, feeling his precum dripping over your fingers.

He lets out a low groan combined with a slightly high pitched, breathy whimper. If your ears could cum, they would have just then. You watch with admiration as his head leans back, his glowing face looking all that much sexier when he wasn’t consumed in a mission.

“Mmmph…so good sweeth- oh fuck…” He lets out. You keep your eyes on him even as his cock pulses inside your hand, warmth completely coated your significantly smaller hand. You finally look back down at it.

“What does…what would it taste like?” You question, not even sure why the question crossed your mind. He laughs.

“Now how would I know that my lady?” He asks, still breathing heavily. You roll your eyes at yourself.

“Right.” You exclaim, feeling stupid. He puts a hand on your cheek.

“You did real good…” He says, but you’re still preoccupied in your own thoughts. 

You should have asked first, probably, and in truth you’re not sure why you didn’t, but you put him in your mouth, tasting the salty, metallic flavour of him and evaluating the texture. He lets out a shocked gasp.

“H…holy….don’t- wh…” Is all he can manage, his dick practically swelling in your mouth. You stop and look up at him, swallowing what was in your mouth.

“Sorry…did you not like it?”

“Well I….of course I did- do- of course I do but…you need to give it time, it’s sensitive after releasing all that.” He explains. Your smile widens.

“It sounded like you like it.”

“I do b-“ You put him in your mouth again and this time he grabs your head and instinctively pushes it down, furthering himself in your mouth. 

You’re stunned by his actions and also weirdly turned on, it’s not too much for you to handle and the new roughness he could give and is obviously keeping from you was starting to show. You continue and feel him rock hard again, not even able to speak and replacing his words with small whimpers and sighs. 

“Hey um…stop st-“ He lets out. You do as he says, scared you did something wrong.

“Are you a virgin?” He speaks softly once he finally got his words back. You look a little upset now.

“That bad, huh?”

“What? It was incredible I’ve never felt that good in my life it’s just. If you’re willing we could…uh”

“Oh.” You say, your cheeks lighting up.

“I know you said you haven’t done anything like this.” He adds. “You probably want to save yourself for your husband.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. George Pettie said that.” 

“Who?” 

“He’s an author, he- nevermind.” You say, taking off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“I’m not a good person, you don’t want your first to be with some random outlaw you met at a party do you?” He questions as the last of his clothes are removes and you see his glistening body, gentle lines of hair across the center. You shrug.

“It’s better this way, better to have experience, you know?” He rolls his eyes playfully. 

“So you went for me. Wow, a man thinks he’s special…” He teases, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you onto his lap. You gasp at the feeling of your bare bodies touching like this, his warm thighs under your wet pussy, it was something you never knew you were craving. 

“I’m gonna get you used to the rocking motion…uh.” He starts, taking you by the hips again and moves you slowly up his thigh. He moves you back down and you gasp at the sensation, your clit already fucking throbbing for him. Arthur smirks happily and moves you back again, this time with your help as you thrust your hips onto him. You let out a loud moan. He smiles widely. 

“Mmm…good girl.” He murmurs as you start pleasuring yourself on his thigh. You look away nervously but keep moving up and down.

“I feel bad.” You say, simply. “You can’t feel anything when I do this.” He kisses you deeply and fuck do you love the feeling of his tongue dancing with yours. 

“I love it like this.” Arthur admits, and you can tell by the look on his face that he’s genuine.  Your pleasure is everything to him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give it to you. 

You keep going for a while, letting a chorus of gasps and moans escape your lips in a song of desperation. You’re close again, your eyes shutting involuntarily as you grip onto his hair. 

“So good…” You exclaim, thrusting harshly. He kisses you even longer this time. 

“Real good, girl.” He coos. 

You look down and Arthur looks almost painfully hard at all this commotion. You look at him nervously. He smiles comfortingly at you. 

“Lie down.” He tells you, and you do as he says, carefully getting off his lap and lying down on the bed beside him. 

“Good, now take deep breaths, it might hurt a little at first okay?” Your wetness pools between your thighs. He’s so fucking caring, at least in this situation, and fuck…he talks you through it. You know he’s experienced and yet he’s treating every sensation like its a first for both of you 

“Sweetheart?” He asks, softly, bringing you out of your head long enough to enjoy the experience. You blush.

“Yea- Yes.” You say, and he towers over you, sucking at the soft skin of your neck and urging a breathy moan in response. 

“Don’t…mess around Arthur- just do it already.” He raises an eyebrow at this.

“Eager, aren’t you miss? Do you want me bad?” You roll your eyes, only somewhat playfully. 

“Just do it.” You repeat. He didn’t really need to be told twice, because he was already lining himself up with your small, dripping cunt. You gasp and he lets out a deep groan when he first enters you. It stings slightly, after all he’s fucking large, but the pain of it all mixed with the pleasure you know he can give you only enhances the situation. 

Arthur watches you from above, noting every noise you make as a result of the things he does to you. He particularly notices the way he forces himself inside you, the way you take every inch of him so fucking well, especially when there’s so much of him to take. It feels fucking phenomenal for him too, the heat of it, the stickiness from all his prior manipulation, it takes everything inside him to not thrust in and out as hard and fast as he wants to, using you as a fucking toy. You would be so perfect for that if that’s what you were into, or if you were any of Arthurs usual sexual partners- troubled women usually, who just want their brains to be fucked out by an outlaw. You were different though. Eager, maybe, but a dignified and intelligent woman who was sleeping with him because she knew it was what she wanted and not because she was troubled or unsatisfied by other men. 

You could see that lustful look in his eye as he cautiously went in and out and you reach up to put a hand on his face. 

“I can handle it Morgan. Go as fast as you want.” It’s like you could hear his thoughts. Arthur always had been transparent. He shakes his head.

“I’m not going to use…” He lets out a groan. “You.” He adds. You give him the most seductive look you know how to make.

“Use me.” You say, and his eyes darken at your comment. You grabs your legs and pins them above your head, forcing his entire cock inside you with some force, making you moan so loud you practically scream. 

“Am I hurting y-“

“Enough with that, Morgan. “If you’re as bad of a man as you claim, you’ll treat me however you want to treat me.”

“I want to treat you well…” Arthur tries, unconvincingly. You give him a comforting look.

“Go on, Morgan.” You affirm again, and he nods, changing his attitude. 

“You gonna take it like a fucking good girl?” He questions and holy fuck, this is turning you on significantly more, which is also more or less a concern, you can cross that bridge if and when it comes to it though. 

“Fuck…yes Morg-“

“Don’t fucking call me that. What’s my name?”

“A…Arthur.” You cry out as he moves so fucking fast, so fucking effortlessly.  He smiles.

“Good girl.” He continues on until your words aren’t even audible to him.

“Look at you.” Arthur rambles, putting a hand on your throat, still holding your other leg. 

“So fucking full with my cock, I didn’t think you’d like it like this, guess I was- oh fuck~ mistaken.” You don’t say anything, you couldn’t even if you wanted to, but you felt yourself nearing yet another orgasm. 

“I’m gonna have to pull….ah~ out soon.” Arthur warns, not slowing down or easing back even slightly. Your eyes are still shut tight, so fucking close yourself. And then you experience it, your stomach swirling in ethereal waves as your own slick pours down his cock and your pussy. He pulls out, spinning his body away and letting the warm white liquid spill onto himself. 

When you finally open your eyes, you notice him wiping himself down with a nearby washcloth. He wipes your thighs down too and pulls you in so you’re lying down besides each other. 

“Well I think we got what we needed from this party.” He says, letting out a soft laugh. You nod.

“Thank god the guards didn’t hear all that.”

“Ah yes, what would daddy’s guards think?” You hit him playfully. 

“Let’s go.” You say and he nods, getting up and grabbing his clothes from the ground.

“So now you’re authoritative.” He mutters to himself.