#fighting the inherent urge to go see it again i dont have that kind of money even if its cheap

[ladyboltontoyou]

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter. 3

Ask: OH MY GOD IMAGINE THE READER IS A GIRL FROM A GOOD FAMILY, SHES WITH ARTHUR FOR A WHILE NOW, THE PARENTS WANT TO MEET HIM. THEY’RE HAVING FAMILY DINNER AND THE COWBOY MAN JUST CANT KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF UNDER THE TABLE oh my god if your request are open and you would write that i would probably, most likely die...oh btw i love the “farmer’s daughter” story OH MY GOD MAYBE THIS COULD BE THE NEXT PART AAAAAAAAH SHIT! okay okay i’m sorry i just got excited! love your writing, have a great day!

Warnings: Cursing, probably. Slightly public sex, ya get fingered at dinner ok? 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: YEEHAW MY FELLOW SLUTS! ENJOY! Also, idk what they called panties back then so I just went with panties, ok? 

Two months later and you had fallen completely in love with the man. You both had told yourselves you wouldn’t let it get that far but it was nearly impossible. Every time you would see each other he had something to give you, be it a new drawing of yourself, wildflowers he had found out in the woods, or some suspiciously expensive jewelry that he wouldn’t talk about.

He hadn’t planned on any of it, really, but multiple times a day he would see something that reminded him of you and he just knew he had to take it. Even the jewelry he had stolen from the folks who were unlucky enough to start a fight with him.

After a while of successfully sneaking around the day came you’d both been expecting. Your father caught him. 

It wasn’t in the way you’d thought it would happen, thankfully. He didn’t walk in on the two of you or catch Arthur climbing up to your room or sneaking out of it. It was more subtle and less suspicious. The two of you, like the fools you were, were out in broad daylight at the stables on your property. You would go out there regularly to spend time with your horse so you knew your parents wouldn’t question you being down there. 

You should have known being that comfortable sneaking around was just asking to be caught. And sure enough, you were.

“(Y/N)? Who is this?”

You fucking twitched. When you turned around you saw your father standing behind you with a look of concern on his face and one of the stable boys watching the whole thing go down. You had given him some money earlier to keep his mouth shut and he sure was getting more than he asked for.

“Howdy mister!” Arthur waved and stepped past you. “Remember me? I stopped by here a while back to ask for some directions.”

Your father squinted and reluctantly shook his hand. Suddenly realization spread across his features as it all clicked. “Oh! Yes!” He laughed and clapped Arthur’s shoulder. “How have you been? Ever find your way?”

“Sure did, thanks to you. I was in town and was asking around, looking to buy some good horses, and a few folks told me you were the man to talk to.” You looked at Arthur with parted lips, in shock at how good of a liar he was. He turned a potential disaster into the most casual and normal interaction without the slightest effort. It was kind of scary.

Your father laughed and nodded, crossing his arms proudly. “You’ve come to the right place, follow me.” 

Arthur tossed you a wink and you had to smile then, dumbfounded by how smoothly the whole thing went.

***

After your father had whisked Arthur away to the expensive section of your stables you went back home. Your mother was preparing dinner along with one of the ranch hands, which surprised you. When you questioned why he was there she explained he was making his mother’s famous gumbo, your mother insisted upon it after she had sent some over to your family. 

When dinner rolled around your father made it back just in time, a surprise guest at his heels. 

“Jane, you remember this man, don’t you? He was the fellow on the white horse who asked for directions to-”

“Of course I do!” She wiped her hands with a kitchen rag, walking into the main room where the two men stood. 

You stood up from the kitchen table to watch the whole thing play out, locking eyes with Arthur who just shrugged.

“He came down today to buy a horse from us!” Your father said as he closed the front door behind them. “And to congratulate him on his purchase I’ve invited him to stay for dinner.”

Your mother smiled happily, it wasn’t often you had visitors that weren’t your families prude friends or relatives. “Good! We’re having gumbo tonight, Thomas is cooking his mother’s very own recipe.”

“Oh!” Your father raised his brows. “The one she sent over yesterday?”

“That’s the one.” 

“Brilliant! I loved that.” 

The two of them talked for a while before Thomas announced the soup was done and your mother went back into the kitchen to help him serve. Your father excused himself to wash up, telling you and his guest to have a seat in the dining room.

You sat down next to Arthur and gave him a look. 

“What?” When he finally noticed you looking at him he furrowed his brows.

“How did you manage that?”

“Manage what?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Come on. You’re the best liar I’ve ever met.”

Arthur shrugged, taking the glass of water that Thomas set down in front of him.

 “You must not of met a lot of people then.”

“All right, then. Keep your secrets.” 

He chuckled and set the glass back down on the table after taking a few generous sips. “Before we almost got ourselves killed, I was going to give you somethin’.” Another gift? He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of paper. “Don’t let anyone see that.” He added with a whisper since Thomas had walked in with the rest of the drinks. 

You smiled at him and slowly unfolded the paper in your lap under the table. Once you had it done you squinted before realizing it was upside down. You flipped it the right way and your face was suddenly burning. Your breath caught in your throat as you took it all in, quickly folding it back up when your mother walked into the room carrying the giant pot of soup. 

The urge to punch him was strong. Why did he have to give that to you then? Why couldn’t he wait? You slipped the paper in the front pocket of your dress and cleared your throat. 

Arthur chuckled and took another sip of water, smiling sweetly at your mother as she started filling everyone's bowls. “Thank you, ma’am.” 

It was impossible to get the image out of your head. It was a drawing of you, completely naked, lying on your stomach with your head resting on your folded arms, your legs kicked up and locked at the ankles. You were looking directly into the viewer’s eyes with a wicked smirk on your face, some of your hair in your face. Once again you looked utterly magnificent, your body drawn in a way that accentuated every part of you perfectly. If it wasn’t a drawing of you, you probably would have gotten off to it. You probably would anyway, knowing Arthur was the one who drew it.

“What horse did you end up buying, Mr…”

“Arthur. The young brown mustang, think your husband called him Taro.”

Your mother nodded and sat down at the opposite end of the table when she was finally done serving. You wished she would let you help with dinner but she was firm in her belief, not allowing you or your father to help her in the slightest.

It was another ten minutes before your father finally joined you, taking his seat beside his wife. “Please excuse me, got carried away with my hair again.” He laughed and eagerly started eating. Your mother shared a laugh with him, chiding him lightly about how vain he was.

Most of dinner was fine, you all talked about the usual dinner subjects such as work, the weather, and town gossip. You barely paid attention though, the image of you drawn naked was stuck in your mind, along with the idea of Arthur drawing it. You wondered if he had done it in the heat of a lust filled moment or if it was just something normal to him.

What finally snapped you out of your thoughts was the feeling of a hand on your knee. You brushed it off at first, it seemed innocent enough, he had done it plenty of times before when the two of you laid together. It wasn’t inherently sexual.

But then he moved his hand lower, brushing his fingers against the hem of your dress. You looked at him with a subtle glance but he refused to acknowledge you at all. 

Crossing your legs you tried to get him to stop but that didn’t deter the cowboy at all. He pulled your dress up just enough to slip his hand under the fabric, then let the hem fall back down over his arm. You wanted to curse him out but you held your tongue and tried to act as natural as possible, taking another spoonful of soup into your mouth. 

“So, Arthur, you never told us what you do for a living.” Your father said after sending one of the kitchen maids to bring out a bottle of wine.

His hand traveled up to your thighs, his fingers gently rubbing circles over your skin. “Oh, well, it’s nothin’ excitin’. I work for a man collecting debts from people. Good money.”

“Oh!” Your father acted impressed, shrugging and exchanging a look with your mother. 

“If that isn’t exciting, I wonder what is to you!” Your mother laughed and so did your father.

‘Maybe fingering your daughter five feet away from you.’ You thought as you shifted in your seat, thankful for how high the table was. If it was any lower surely they would see that the lower half of his arm was extended towards you.

Slowly, extremely slowly, his hand continued it’s journey upwards. You forced yourself to keep a straight face, even when you felt the tips of his fingers brush against your panties. ‘No problem,’ you told yourself, feeling him pull the fabric aside so he could touch you better. ‘No big deal.’

Arthur rubbed slow circles into your clit with a firm amount of pressure, but not quick or firm enough to get you anywhere fast. And he knew it, too. He ate his second bowl of soup just as normally as he did the first, showing no signs of the fact that his fingers were about to be stuffed inside of you. 

You liked to think you looked just as calm as he did. You had finished your soup and were waiting for everyone else to so your mother could bring out dessert, and then you could finally leave the table. If only Arthur would hurry up and finish his meal. 

The small talk carried on and left almost no silence which worked to your advantage. If they were quiet they probably would hear how fast your breathing had gotten, especially when Arthur pushed that first finger inside of you. You had to practically bite through your tongue to keep the moan silenced. 

“(Y/N), you’re quiet, for once. Are you sick?” Your father joked and everyone laughed, including Arthur. That bastard. 

“I’m fine, just like listening to you all talk.” You said quickly, surprised at how even and calm your voice sounded. Almost as if you weren’t being finger fucked. 

That seemed to satisfy them enough and they carried on with conversation.

Normally at dinner, you rarely drank any wine, since you were never able to just have one glass. It always led to two, or sometimes even three, and you would end up passed out on your bed hours before you usually would. But tonight you happily drank, finishing the second glass right as Arthur had two fingers curling inside of you. 

As hard as you tried not to let yourself orgasm you could feel it approaching rapidly. Arthur could too, noting how your chest rose and fell and how you were twitching around his fingers. He slowed down momentarily, allowing you to catch your breath, before he was right back at it, quicker than before. He had a hard-on of his own but with his belt and gun holster in the way, no one would have the slightest idea, even if they looked right at his crotch. Lucky him.

“Are we ready for dessert?” Your mother's voice scared you out of your wits and you jumped. 

“Yes!” You laughed to draw attention away from the fact that you almost spilled your wine. 

She left along with the kitchen maid, directing her to get together new sets of dishes. 

His fingers curled quicker as he sipped on his wine, keeping his eyes anywhere but your father or you. Your father kept up the small talk, allowing you to give yourself the time to focus on having a discreet and quiet orgasm. 

You slowed your breathing as you felt it coming, gripping Arthur’s arm under the table with your left hand as you curled your other hand into a fist around your dress. He looked down at you for a split second, savoring the sight of you as best as he could before he forced himself to look away as to not look suspicious. He gave you a few more deep pumps before you came. The heat and tingles exploded, rippling from your clit and inside your body to your entire form. You bit your lip and looked down, sinking your nails into the skin of his arm. The waves of pleasure that coursed through your body were enough to make anyone scream but you kept your mouth shut and posture still. 

When it finally finished you sat back in your seat, running a hand through your hair as you sighed, wiping the sweat off your forehead when your father wasn't looking. Arthur smirked at you and you threw him the angriest glare you could, but you couldn’t keep it for long. When he chuckled you broke out into a smile and you had to look away so you didn’t laugh.

“Here it is!” Your mother said proudly as she carried the pecan pie into the dining room. “Took me all day!” 

Arthur made a show of looking impressed and your father praised your mother's cooking to no end, telling her that she was the best cook in the whole west. She smiled proudly and served everyone's plates. Thank god you had already came and Arthur’s hand was back where it belonged.

“I’m going to make you regret that.” You whispered to Arthur as your mother talked about how hard it was to find enough pecans. 

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

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