#tw:sub!arthur

[narcoticv3nus]

Be Good to Me ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

Kinktober Day I: Edging

summary: reader gives arthur a hand tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, hand job, praise, a bit of degradation, edging (duh), fluff, dom!reader, sub!arthur, cursing, use of pet names ("sweetheart", "good boy", "honey", “darling”), author attempts at accents wc: 1.5k

MASTERLIST

It wasn’t every day you found yourself in this position, straddling your cowboy, his eyes glazed over and pleading as he gazed up at you like you were his goddess and he was your devotee. The top buttons of his shirt were left open, offering a teasing view of his broad, hairy chest while a sinful symphony of sweet temptation spilled from his lips. His large hands cradled your hips, and now and then, his soft caresses turned into almost painful clutches as he neared his release before you took it away.

“Please… sweetheart…” he panted desperately, his eyes squeezed shut as his hips chased your hand.

“Hm? Please, what?” You tilted your head to the side with a self-pleased smirk tugging at the edges of your lips.

“You know–” his warning growl cut off as you squeezed the base of his cock coated in endless amounts of precum that continued to leak from his tip.

“What is it?” You cooed with feigned sympathy, struggling to suppress the urge to display even a hint of mercy.

His long, dark eyelashes fluttered as his beautiful, clear blue eyes slowly reopened, appearing bleary and glistening with moisture. His slightly chapped, pink lips puckered, giving away his thoughts. As his arm encircled your waist, his fingers tightened their hold, sending a thrill down your spine. You noticed his jaw clenching, his subtle muscle flexing, and the intensity in his eyes.

“Just let me take care of you.” You purred, continuing the rapid movements of your hand before he could flip you over and have his way with you. Like you know he wants.

“You work so hard; let me do this for you,” you said, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. As his lips met yours, the soft, velvety timbre of your voice and the tender touch of your lips against his seemed to satiate him, if only for a moment.

You moan into his mouth, tongues intertwining as his large, warm hand reaches up to cup your breast, squeezing affectionately as his chest arches into yours.

“Darlin’…” he groaned, tipping his head back, exposing his neck in submission, moaning as your lips descended, sweet and soft kisses turned into teasing nibbles to wet sucks and licks.

“Jus’ like that,” he whined, thighs spreading wider as his cock twitched uncontrollably, tip an angry purple as his hips constantly lifted and retreated from your torturous pleasure-inducing movements.

“Feels good, honey?” you teased, twisting your fist as you went upwards, soft fingers tracing the outlines of his veins running up-and-down his cock.

"Ahh fuck!" The words flew out of Arthur's mouth involuntarily as you twisted your hand in just the right way, sending a jolt of exquisite torment straight through his body. He arched his back off the bed, hands balling into fists at his sides as he struggled to maintain control. He could see the amusement dancing in your eyes as you watched his reaction, enjoying your power over him.

With a low growl, he replied, "Yeah, it feels good." He bit his bottom lip, trying to contain himself, but the sensation was almost too much. He could feel the pressure building inside him like a wildfire waiting to erupt. His eyes locked onto yours, silently begging you to release him from this sweet torture.

“Fuck… yes,” Arthur’s voice strained as he called out, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate as he tried to regulate his breathing. His hands found their way to your hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as you continued your delicious ministrations. He groaned your name, the sound deep and guttural.

Arthur’s mind spiraled into a whirlwind of pleasure and agony as he fought against the impending climax. His thighs tensed, and his body quivered beneath yours. He knew you could sense his desperation, the way his breath caught in his throat each time your hand moved, and how his cock pulsed in your grasp.

The combination of pain and pleasure made him feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet oddly safe with you. He craved this intimacy, the connection between you two that went beyond mere physical release. It was as if you were peeling back the layers of his hardened exterior, reaching the raw emotions buried deep within him. He didn’t understand it but couldn’t deny its pull on him.

“Are you going to make me beg for it, darlin’?” He asked through clenched teeth, his voice a rough whisper as he challenged you to push him further.

“You might as well start,” you giggled, your breath warm and airy as you leaned close to his ear, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you enjoyed seeing him squirm beneath you.

Arthur’s jaw tightened as your breath tickled his ear, your giggle sending another wave of pleasure coursing through him. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself before opening them again to meet your gaze.

Goddamnit, woman, you know how to play me like a fiddle, he thought, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple as he felt himself losing control. He let out another deep groan, voice strained but filled with determination, the sound of your name reaching your ears, causing your thighs to tighten around him, “I need… ” He couldn’t bring himself to beg, but the words hung between you nonetheless. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking relief that only you could provide. The intensity in his eyes deepened as he stared at you, silently pleading for you to end his suffering.

“Please,” he finally managed to say, the word torn from his lips as he swallowed hard. His hand moved from your hair to your cheek, gently guiding your face towards his for another passionate kiss. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, urging it open as his tongue swept inside, mimicking the motion he wished you’d use on him again.

“Please, what?” Your words were soft as you murmured against his lips, but your gaze was hard and unyielding.

Pausing mid-kiss, Arthur studied your expression, seeing the playful challenge in your eyes. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards despite the torment you put him through. With a deep breath, Arthur swallowed his pride and let out a low moan. “Please…let me cum,” he finally uttered, the words sounding foreign yet oddly liberating on his tongue. He knew how much power he was relinquishing by voicing his need, but something about you made him want to give you that control.

There was something inexplicable about how you seemed to see past his flaws and still chose to stand by his side. It was as if you had formed an unspoken bond, drawing him in with an irresistible force. His longing for your touch and validation was akin to the desperate yearning of a person stranded in the arid expanse of a desert, utterly parched and in need of sustenance.

“Good boy.” you smiled, your leisure and methodical movements suddenly picking up in speed. The slick sounds of your hand jerking him off echoed loudly throughout the room.

“Go ahead…” you moaned, subtly grinding yourself over his thigh. “Cum for me.”

Relief flooded Arthur's system at your words, and the pressure within him began building rapidly. Finally, he thought triumphantly, his hips instinctively bucking upwards to meet your increased pace. The world around him narrowed down to nothing but you, your touch, and the exquisite torture you inflicted upon him. Every stroke sent bolts of white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of release.

Arthur’s grip on your shoulder tightened as his muscles tensed, and with one final, powerful thrust against your hand, he exploded. A guttural groan ripped through the air as his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm, every muscle contracting before gradually relaxing.

His head fell against the pillow as he struggled to catch his breath, eyes closed, and a satisfied smile played across his lips. Once he regained control, he opened them to look at you, the intense desire replaced with a gentler, warmer gaze.

"Thank you," he rasped, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I needed that more than I care to admit."

As your hand slowed to a stop, Arthur let out a deep breath, feeling both spent and alive simultaneously. He couldn't remember the last time someone had such an intense hold over him, and the realization sent a strange mix of emotions coursing through him. He watched you with heavy-lidded eyes, his chest still heaving from the exertion. The room was quiet save for the crackling fire and your labored breathing, creating an intimate atmosphere that made him feel vulnerable.

Reaching up, Arthur gently pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he reversed your positions, his hands resting beside your head as he wolfishly grinned from on top of you. The weight of Arthur's body pressing against yours sent another pleasant shiver down your spine, his muscles still warm and taut from your shared experience. His intense blue-green eyes searched yours, a softness there that was rare to see. Despite the chaos that often consumed him, Arthur found solace in your arms, something he hadn't expected to see in this wild, unforgiving world.

“Now, darlin," he drawled, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards, "I believe it's my turn now."

main masterlist, rules

[narcoticv3nus]

Catch a Ride to Heaven ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

Kinktober Day IV: Virginity

summary: rebellious reader is a sinner for her cowboy tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, virginity loss, p in v, praise, fingering, religious symbolism, cherry popping, midhonor!arthur, smoking, dom!arthur, sub!reader, rough sex, a bit of degradation, pet names, author attempts at accents wc: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

“Ma’am”

You looked up from your bible sitting on your lap, noticing a rather large man standing before you. His shoulder-length brown hair cascades down, framing his rugged features and intense blue eyes. A short beard adorns his handsome face, emphasizing the scar on his chin. Despite his rugged appearance, his smile reveals straight white teeth, complementing his sun-kissed skin with charming freckles. His well-worn cowboy hat had seen better days, colored black with a weathered rope tied around the middle and what looked to be claw marks running down the sides.

“Good morning, mister,” you answered, fiddling with the cross around your neck, trying to tame the sinful thoughts running through your mind. You had come to notice this man from afar. He would stop by your little town now and again, whether that was to buy guns or sell a suspicious amount of items at the fence nearby. Your eyes always followed him. You couldn't help it, although you tried to pray the feelings away many times. God never answered your prayers.

Your daddy was the local pastor. He was always smiling and friendly, claiming he prayed for every person he came across. He was a good man, always going out of his way to serve others. It seemed God had given him the gift of spreading his love all over, yet it seemed to run out when it came to you.

Your daddy had always been hard on you after your mama passed. Your brain was too young to remember much of her, but you could still remember the sound of her voice in your ears and the soft, comforting scent of her clothes.

Daddy said it was because he loved you; he was so strict, which you never really understood. Anytime you made a mistake or a mishap, Daddy would sharpen you back into shape, sometimes going to extreme measures. The bruises on your behind still stung when you sat down.

He never permitted you to be alone around other men, claiming you had to stay pure in the eyes of God or else you'd burn in hell for all eternity for spreading your legs for no-goods. He said men only wanted one thing, but he never specified what. It didn't take you long to figure it out. You were a smart girl. At least, that's what everybody said.

You didn't feel smart now as Daddy’s teachings drifted from the back of your mind like a cloud of smoke, thoughts of purity and maidenhood be damned. God knows you tried to resist them, and you really did. To push those thoughts aside, burn them, shut them out as much as you could.

But wouldn't he have answered your prayers if God were all-loving? Heaven knows you wanted to be a good girl. You did, truly! But there was something about this man that had your body growing warm, his deep southern drawl reaching into deep parts of you you never even knew existed. He had your voice growing shy, your hands feeling clammy as your thighs pressed together, desperate to soothe that sweet ache between your legs.

Sometimes, he would compliment you, saying he liked your dress or how you style your hair.

“May I say you're lookin’ lovely' today, little lady.” You swallowed deeply, your lips parting as you gazed up at him, eyes wide. “Thank-thank you, mister,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You…you're awfully kind.” You continued, not being able to help yourself. How could you stay away when you yearned for him so deeply?

“I ain’t really,” he answered bluntly, his eyes boring deep into yours, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. You've seen that same look on many men before, but only he had your heart racing with want.

“Maybe just to pretty ladies like yourself,” he continued, his hand reaching up to scratch his stubble chin.

If your face wasn't on fire before, it sure was now. You didn't know what to say as you began to stutter, sweat building between your legs and inside of your bodice. “I don't—” Your fingers curled around your cross, praying to God to give you strength or show mercy.

“What’s your name anyway?” He spoke up for you, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pack of premium cigarettes. He placed the stick between his lips as he held the lighter close to his face, raising a brow when you lacked a response.

You gave him your name. Your eyes were bashful as they looked down at his shoes, noting the quality of the leather and his metal spurs.

“Ain't that lovely,” he responded, gray tendrils of cigarette smoke escaping his nose, his eyes never straying from your face.

“What’s yours?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady as your subconscious body seemed to float away, high into the sky and never to be seen again. You've never felt so euphoric. If it was wrong, how come it felt so right?

“Arthur,” he answered, tapping the ash from the end of the stick away into the dirt. “Arthur Morgan,”

“Well, it… it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan,” you said politely, part of you hoping to appease him. It seemed to work as his grin grew wider, his teeth poking out from behind his pink lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes looking you up and down. “You too,” he said, emphasizing your name before exhaling another cloud of smoke. You bit your lip to hold back the whine building in your chest. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to put a name to a face s’all.”

You wanted to tell him, no, to please stay, just a little longer. And yet you only watch in silence as he dipped his hat to you before turning and striding in the other direction. You watched him go, eyes drifting low to his backside, appreciating the natural sway of his hips as he left.

My Lord, please give me strength.

You and Arthur had met several more times after that. He'd sometimes saunter up to you after church, asking about your day and flirting with you right in front of the house of God, sometimes even in front of your Daddy.

Daddy had given you a good whooping after that, reminding you to stay away from that man if you know what's good for you. But you just couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. Lord knows you did.

But like Eve and the serpent, Arthur offered you the tastiest treat you couldn't refuse. Why did it feel so good if these feelings were so condemned? You started questioning your faith the more Arthur lingered around, and you started to fear for your sake. Maybe he was no good after all. Perhaps this was all a test.

But no horns were sprouting from the outlaw’s head, no devil’s tail swaying mischievously behind his back, he had no red eyes, and no white fangs. And despite what the poets might say, he had no slimy forked tongue. And you would know, counting how many times your eyes had fallen to his mouth as he spoke. Each time his tongue ran over his lips, yours would do the same.

There came a time when he placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your face when he asked to buy you a room somewhere for the night. His cold eyes burn through you. You knew you should've said no, refused the forbidden fruit, and asked him to leave you alone for good. You were a child of God, blessed without sin, and designed for purity. But those would all be lies. No one is without sin. You thought as you nodded, your breath shaky and your cheeks stained red.

Daddy will raise hell. You reminded yourself, but it was already too late. You sealed your fate when you decided to shake hands with the devil.

As Arthur led you up the stairs, his hand entangled with yours, his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hotel, the wooden floors creaking under his weight.

He opened the door for you to enter the small and empty room, the hair rising on the back of your neck as he followed close behind you. “Arthur, I—” you stammered when it dawned on you, realizing what you were about to do.

“Shh, don't be nervous,” he soothed as a heavy hand rested on your hip, sliding up your waist. “I’ll take good care of you,” he reassured, gently removing his hat and placing it on the night table beside the bed.

Like a predator circling its prey, he stalked around your body until he stood in front of you, both hands on your hips as he smiled down at you. He was so close. You almost let out a whine of fear, eyes glued to his teeth to ensure he didn't have fangs, just in case.

“I promise I don't bite,” he chuckled, almost like he could read your thoughts. Maybe he could. He leaned close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Unless you want me to.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped you, anxiety and desire twisting and churning in your stomach, leaving you speechless.

“I've never…” Your voice trailed off, the words getting lodged in you as Arthur hummed in response, seemingly unsurprised.

“I figured,” he chuckled, confirming your suspicions. “Sweet, innocent things like you usually are,” he grinned, flicking the cross against your chest. You weren't sure what to make of that.

“We just won't tell ‘em, ay?” he let out a huff of amusement, reaching back to unclasp the necklace around your neck.

“Wait,” you halted him, gazing at his confused expression. “I…I want to leave it on,” you murmured, eyes drifting downwards, hoping you hadn't disappointed him. You weren't sure why you wanted it to stay; it didn't make sense logically. He was right; you should put it away, considering what you were about to do—what you were about to let him do to you.

However, something about it gave you a sense of peace or reassurance: even though you were betraying everything you were ever taught, everything you've ever known, God was still there, and he still loved you. Maybe giving in to your deepest desires could reconnect you to him in some way, that finding pleasure in the most sinful of ways wasn't sinful at all. Wouldn't he want you to feel good if he really loved you? To take what you want?

He was silent momentarily before he removed his hands from your grasp. Here it comes. You thought, eyes shutting, waiting for his disapproval.

His fingers grasped your chin, tilting it upwards, his thumb rubbing softly over your bottom lip. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” his voice cutting through the silence. “You can do whatever you like, darlin’.” his low, warm voice was gentle and consoling, offering comfort instead of pain.

“Thank you,” you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, your eyes gazing up at him with adoration, yet your hands continued clutching your dress, unsure of where to put them.

He hummed again, taking your small hands in his much larger ones, gently urging them towards him. You gasped as your fingers made contact with his skin, like it was the most lewd thing you've ever done. It might as well have been.

“I should be thankin’ you,” he responded, lifting your right hand to meet his lips, kissing your knuckles with a sweet softness you've never known. “Ain’t every day I meet a pretty girl like you.” he charmed, stepping closer towards you, your body stiff with nerves.

“I thought you said you were always nice to pretty girls.” You recollected, thinking back to the time you were first properly introduced.

“Well, I might've lied. Just a bit,” Arthur smirked, chuckling at your shocked expression. “They're not always as sweet as you,” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours. As your noses brushed together, he tilted his face to the side, one hand reaching up to guide your face to do the same in the opposite direction.

“Arthur, I don't know–” “It's alright,” he hushed, his breath hot against your lips. “Just follow my lead, alright?” You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath when he requested you to. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, the thin hairs of his beard tickling your cheeks. “Now, breathe out. Slow.”

As the cool air inside your chest unfurled from your lungs, his mouth pressed against yours. You squeaked in surprise, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips moved against yours. His hands smoothed down your lower back, pushing you closer until his erection was pressing up against your stomach.

You moaned into his lips, your body set ablaze as you struggled to kiss him back, your movements stiff and uncoordinated. He pulled away, a deep chuckle leaving his chest, causing you to squirm in shame.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” he purred, the fingers undoing the top buttons of your dress. “Don't be so nervous,”

“Easy for you to say,” you huffed, watching as his hands descended to each button, opening it with practiced fingers. He laughed, kissing your forehead with a smile. “I know, but just trust me.”

Trust me.

This was the most trust you've ever put in anyone you've ever met in your entire life. Here, this man was undressing you so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. It probably was, to him. How many girls has he been with? You thought almost bitterly, jealousy spiking at him cherishing any other woman like this.

Every man you've ever met has bragged about how many girls he's bedded, whether they were modest wives or working whores, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if the man was handsome or ugly, rich or poor, dirty or clean. They all had the same goal in mind. Maybe Daddy was right. You thought anxiously as your dress fell into a pool around your ankles, leaving you in your bodice. Perhaps you were just another notch under Arthur’s belt. Even Daddy would stumble home with his clothes undone and lipstick stains adorning his neck.

Maybe Arthur is different. Maybe he's a good man.

“What's goin’ on up there,” Arthur asked teasingly, yet concern still laced around the edges of his voice. “If you don't want this–”

“I do!” You interrupted quickly, hands latching onto the front of his shirt, your lips puckering in embarrassment. “Sorry, I–I'm just nervous s’all.”

“I know,” he said, his arms resting against your upper arms, rubbing his calloused hands over your soft skin. “I understand. We’ll take it slow.” He promised, leaning forward to capture your lips in another kiss. He held his lips against yours this time, letting you adjust to him as his fingers deftly coiled around the strings of your bodice, slowly unlacing them one by one.

“S’been awhile myself,” he admitted, hoping to soothe you in some way as he took his time undressing you until you were left in only your bloomers, standing still with your face hot and your lips chewed raw.

“You don't…” you hesitated, wondering if you even wanted to know the answer. “…do this often?” You finally inquired as his eyes filtered over your exposed form. “Nah…” he answered, hands running all along your body.

“Well… once upon a time, maybe.” he grinned at you wickedly, his white teeth gleaming underneath his self-satisfied smirk. He laughed, finding the expression you subconsciously made amusing.

“Don't get all jealous now. It ain't like that anymore.” He promised, unbuttoning his clothes this time, undoing his vest, and taking off his short sleeve. “I wouldn't take advantage of someone like you,” he reassured, undoing his suspenders until he was left in nothing but his pants with his gun belt still sitting heavy over his hips and gun holster attached to his side.

Your eyes roamed to a large expanse of his chest, thick, coarse hair sprouting from his skin and leaving a path down into his pants. “Now,” he started again, your eyes snapping back to his face.

“Go sit on the bed for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender, a heavy hand smoothing over your head. After letting his words sink in, you did as you were told. You knocked off your shoes as you sat at the edge, trying to avoid his gaze. With a simple click, he pulled the gun belt from around his pants and set it down near his hat, his holster following suit.

“Take ‘em off,” he instructed, his eyes studying your face as he undid his belt, waiting for you to undress. You clutched the warm off-white fabric of your clothes, your breaths coming in shaky, knowing you were about to expose your body to a man; you've never felt so vulnerable.

“I won't ask you again,” he threatened, his lips tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I have no problem takin’ you back home.” Just the thought of home had fear swirling in your gut. You'd instead take this than face your daddy. You knew it was unavoidable, but you'd rather it at least be worth it.

You nodded your head swiftly, standing back up to shed yourself of your underclothes until you were left in nothing but a necklace sitting on your naked chest. The cold surface of its metal and the cool air caused your skin to rise in goosebumps, your nipples perking in response.

“Good girl,” he purred, eyes drinking in your naked form with a dark hunger you've never seen. The spurs of his boots clicked as he reached forward, carefully sliding them off before setting them aside.

As you sat back against the bed, your fingers reached up again, clasping your cross, letting its sharper ridges poke against your skin.

“Don’t be scared now,” you gasped as his pants fell to the floor, his cock finally springing free mere inches from your face. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor as you stared. You've never seen one before. Do they all look like that? Are they always this big?

“You okay?” he laughed, strutting towards you, his cock bobbing between his thighs, hanging low towards the floor. Up close, you could see every vein protruding from underneath his foreskin, a strange liquid shining at the tip.

“Um…” you were at a loss for words, unable to look away. “What if it doesn't… y’know,” Arthur tilted his head to the side as he neared, hands on your waist as he urged you back further. “…fit?” You finished with a squeak as your head hit the pillow below, and your hair splayed out behind you.

You peered up at him, curious as his cheeks dusted into a dark shade of pink. Was he embarrassed? Did I offend him? “It’ll fit,” he said, looking away almost bashfully. “Gotta prepare you first,”

Prepare me?

He leaned forward until his forearms rested against either side of your head, trapping you underneath his body. Soft brown hair strands framed his face as he leaned closer, and front pieces fell over his thick brows.

You gazed into his clear blue eyes, deep as the sea, with a warm yellow ring around his black irises, reminding you of the sun’s rays casting light across blue skies. His eyes flickered between yours, seemingly searching for something before his lips connected to yours once more, his hairy chest pressing against your breasts.

Reaching up with shaky hands, you entangled them into his hair, resting them gently in fear of maybe hurting him. “That’s it…” he encouraged, his hand finding yours, interlocking your fingers, and pressing them to the bed.

“Just breathe,” he reminded before kissing you again, his cock twitching against your thigh, subtly rutting against you. You did as you were told: in and out. You thought to yourself as you practiced slow breaths until your heartbeat slowed to a semi-normal pace. “You got it,” he smiled into the kiss before continuing down your neck, rubbing his lips over sensitive skin.

You whimpered, your hand tightening against his as he lowered even further, reaching your chest. He let out a deep groan as he pressed his face against your breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck.

You looked down at him in shock, unsure what to do as he began rutting harder against you. Is this what people do? You were so confused, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. He let go with a slow suck, his heavy eyes meeting yours once more.

“Have I sprouted three heads?” he chuckled, worrying his lip with his top teeth. You shook your head, one hand gripping his shoulder to balance yourself.

“I don't… am I doing this, right?” As you whispered, your face flushed with warmth, and you squeezed his hand tightly, seeking comfort.

“You don't gotta worry your pretty little head over nothin’,” he said as his fingers dipped between your bodies, tracing over your thighs before nearing your pussy. You could feel its dampness trickle between your legs and into the sheets, your little pearl throbbing with need.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, his gaze softening into an emotion you've only seen flicker in his eyes and disappear as if it was never there. But this time, it stayed; it settled for you.

You didn't know what to say, so you opted not to speak; the silence spoke for itself as you stared back. The hand in Arthur’s hair cupped his stubble cheek, urging him closer before kissing his lips. He grunted at the contact, his tongue prodding the entrance of your mouth, forcing it to open before it slid inside.

No fork. The thought popped into your mind as Arthur’s tongue slid against yours, massaging the wet muscle with flicks of his own.

The hand against your leg reached underneath your thigh, lifting it around his waist before dipping back between your legs. You gasped into his mouth as his thumb reached underneath your hood, finding your pulsing clit and pressing down, moving in slow and deliberate circles. You moaned out; never once had you felt anything so amazing in your entire life. You had never touched yourself down there before; shame always held you back, and now you regret it.

All those times you refused your aching body with release almost seem abusive looking back now.

“Oh, Arthur,” you gasped into his mouth as he continued, your hips lifting to try and chase the addicting sensation.

“It feels so…” You couldn't even find the words to describe the feeling. It would be useless to try to explain it now.

“Like that?” he groaned, picking up the pace of his movements as his other fingers teased your entrance, coating his calluses in your essence. You nodded, mouth still open as broken whines and whimpers escaped your wet lips. You arched your back, your face falling to the side as you squeezed his hand, nails biting into the flesh of his skin. Arthur didn't seem to notice; if he did, he didn't show it, fully enraptured by your sensitive flesh.

“Christ, you're so wet.” Arthur didn't mean anything by it, but the mention of a name so holy during a time like this had your thighs closing around his forearms, trapping his hand against you.

He was also right. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life. “Don't stop, Arthur.” You pleaded, trying to reopen your legs to give him more room.

“Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart,” came his husky reply. You sighed at his words, more so the thickness of his voice.

“Wider, darlin’,” he grunted, his middle finger catching onto the rim of your hole. “Gotta stretch you nice and proper, so you can take my cock.”

“Arthur!” you whined, embarrassed by his words, throwing an arm over your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, his movements slowing down. “Thas’ what you want, ain’t it?” He urged his finger, slowly inserting itself as you bucked upwards, trying to chase the dwindling pleasure.

You whimpered in reply, opening your legs further, allowing him to slip his finger in deeper. It was so thick and so warm, your pussy welcoming him with wet pulses as he slowly moved it in and out. The pain was sharp but was slowly replaced as his finger curled deeper, reaching places you weren't aware even existed.

“There’s a girl,” he rasped, eyes glancing between your face and your slippery cunt before adding a second finger. He wasn't deterred by the small amounts of blood coating his digits, only focused on making you feel as good as possible while preparing you to take him.

“You're doing so well.” he sighed, twisting his fingers before spreading them into scissoring motions, completely enraptured as your pussy convulsed around him, spilling more and more slick as his fingers quickened their pace.

The only sound in the room was your deep moans and the sloppy sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his hand. Arthur shifted his wrist so the edge of his palm rubbed against your sensitive button, curling his hands deep against your G-spot and smirking in triumph once he found it.

“There it is,” he chuckled as he gazed upon your expression. Your thighs slammed closed around his wrist as you arched your back deeply, feeling your spine ache in protest, but you didn't care.

“Ah! Right there!” You squeezed his hand with all your strength as a new sensation built in your stomach. Something was coming.

“Arthur!” You whimpered; your free hand reached towards his wrist, which was now twisting with more force as his fingers pumped faster, harder.

“Wait! It’s—I’m,” Arthur was quick to silence you with another deep kiss, yet you couldn't kiss him back as much as you wanted, your mouth struggling to stay closed as whorish noises forced their way out.

“Just let go, honey,” he groaned, the heel of his palm digging deeper. “It's alright, just let go.” His voice was so thick and coarse, so warm and so rich, so deep and so guttural you couldn't help but fall victim to his spell.

With one final wail, you felt something rush out of you, something liquid but didn’t quite feel like pee. All you knew was that it felt good.

I hope this is what heaven feels like.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your voice growing tight as Arthur continued his pace, helping you ride out your high before eventually slowing, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, taking in your debauched state with a proud smile. Your hair was in disarray, strands sticking to your sweaty skin as your eyes fluttered, lashes resting against your darkened cheeks, and your eyebrows drawn close. Your lips were wet and rubbed red from his kisses, drool lewdly sticking to the corners of your mouth. Your naked chest heaved, your cross still sitting in between your breasts.

“You alright?” Arthur chuckled, slowly removing his fingers from your wet heat and wiping the mixed residue on the sheets.

“I never wanted it to stop,” you whimpered at the empty feeling inside you.

“I know that's right,” he agreed with a chuckle, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. You gazed up at him sheepishly, your hands reaching out to grab his forearms, letting your hands feel the warmth of his skin.

He hoisted your hips upwards, wrapping your thighs around his waist before leaning forward, his palm cupping your cheek before slotting his mouth against yours. Your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the kiss, unaware as his hips shifted forward.

With one hand around his cock, he pumped it generously, coating his dick in precum as he guided it toward your entrance.

“Big inhale for me, darlin’,” he requested one final time. You did as you were told, breathing in a large gulp of air before you felt something catch against your rim and push inside, filling you inch by inch as the air caught in your throat.

“And out,” he grunted, pushing his cock to the hilt, forcing himself deep inside, cursing as you clamped around him. He swore he'd felt traps looser than this.

Your exhale was probably closer to a sob. You've never felt so full in your whole life. Although the stretch wasn't nearly as painful as you imagined it would be. There was just so much pressure.

“You're doing good, fuck, just keep breathing.” he panted, barely even able to pull back with how tight you were clutching him. You nodded when trying to focus on his words as his cock throbbed inside of you.

“Good?” he grunted, his face twisted into something akin to pain, his heavy brows pulled forward, his face creasing as his eyes threatened to squeeze shut despite his resistance to keep them open. He sucked on his lower lip, struggling to concentrate as your wet heat pulsed around him.

“It feels… full.”

He groaned in response, thrusting up into you until his pretty cock punched against that spongy spot, causing you to kean, your body squirming, unsure if it wanted to pull away or chase the feeling.

“It's too much,” you whimpered, your hands pushing against his abdomen before he took your wrists in one hand, forcing them above your head as he rocked against you, fucking his cock in and out in slow yet deep thrusts.

“Take it,” he practically growled, his warm gaze turning cold as he towered above you, one hand enclosing around your hip as leverage, manipulating your body up and down in time with his thrusts.

“God, fucking take it,” he accentuated each word with a powerful shove, your skin slapping loudly each time they met. You couldn't even use anything to stabilize yourself, his fist wrapped firmly around your hands, holding them down with ease.

You were forced to take the onslaught of pleasure, tears welling up in your eyes as you cried out with movement, each jamming of his cock against your sore, sensitive pussy.

“Arthur!” you sobbed, your body squirming desperately underneath him, attempting to run away from his battering hips that grew faster with each minute that passed.

“Yeah, say my name,” he moaned, his eyes falling shut as his lips parted, deep pants escaping his chest with every movement. “Go on, say it again,” he reopened his eyes, glaring down at you with a look of something fierce.

“Arthur!” You moaned, pleading with your eyes for him to slow down. He smiled wide, letting go of your wrists, urging you to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in close, chest to chest.

“Am I being too rough?” he teased, pecking your lips tenderly as he slowed to a softer grind, allowing you a bit of grace.

“It's okay,” you panted, nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, closing your eyes in bliss as his thick cock ruined you for anyone else. “You can go faster… if you want,” you gripped him by his arms, burying your face in his neck, shyly kissing the expanse of his throat.

He let out another deep groan, his hand resting behind your head, pulling you closer as his other curled into the sheets below you, fucking up into you at a steady pace. You held onto him tightly, knowing you wouldn't last much longer.

“It's coming again,” you warned, your voice high-pitched and airy as you struggled to breathe, feeling as though he was fucking into your lungs.

Arthur leaned upwards, letting you fall back onto the bed as he took hold of your waist, his unoccupied thumb pressed down against your clit, rubbing fast circles as he urged you to finish.

“You’re almost there,” he grunted, watching as his cock reappeared before disappearing back inside you, the base coated in your milky arousal.

“You got it, c’mon,”

You reached behind you, fingers curling into the sheets below as you arched in his touch, gasping for air as the sweet pleasure built quicker, coming in faster and harder. “M’so close, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know,” he cursed, fucking himself deeper, trying to get as much of himself inside as possible.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me,” whines began to escape his lips, sounds you never thought you'd hear him make.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, barely holding on as the thread threatened to break. You watched Arthur’s shoulders shake with what looked to be laughter, his thrusts stuttering before picking back up again.

“Yes,” he dipped his head to the side with a hiss, his thumb pressing harder against your delicate pearl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

Something about the nickname did it for you. It was said with affection and lust, smooth as silk and sweet as strawberry wine. Arthur’s voice was thick and rich, slipping into your ears and knocking around in your brain.

You came with his name on your tongue, crying to the heavens above, knowing that even if God has turned back on you now, at least you’ll suffer knowing you were loved in some way by someone. You felt his nose nuzzle into the side of your neck, his hips slowing into something almost romantic.

You felt him place a kiss on your shoulder, almost as a silent apology, before drawing back and slamming forward, fucking you so fast and so deep the frame of the headboard knocked against the wall over and over. You held onto him for dear life as he used you for his pleasure, groaning uncontrollably in your ear.

“Almost there, fuck,” he whimpered, his hold on you tightening to something almost painful before he pulled out swiftly, pumping his cock at an inhumane pace before shooting white ropes across your stomach. He came loudly, teetering near a shout. Every time you thought it was over, more and more kept coming out, eventually spilling onto his hand and running down his length.

He glanced down at the cross, rising and falling with every movement of your chest. He smirked, holding it up in his clean hand, his thumb smoothing over the protruding patterns.

At least now he can say for certain where he’s truly going.

“C’mon, darlin, let's get you cleaned up.”

main masterlist, rules

[narcoticv3nus]

Heaven Is a Place on Earth ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

summary: reader gives arthur some well deserved lovin'. tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), rough manhandling, smoking, praise, dom!arthur, sub!reader, cursing, crying, use of pet names ("sweetheart", "good girl", "woman"), author attempts at accents wc: 984

You peer up at him from below, observing how his sharp features become bathed in a warm, golden glow following the rhythmic flickering of his worn metal lighter. With each deliberate flick, the flame ignites, casting an ethereal radiance across his face. As he tilts his chin upward, the flickering flame illuminates the tip of his cigarette, casting a soft glow on his chiseled features. The reflection of the dancing flame dances in his mesmerizing blue-green eyes.

Your eyelashes flutter, and a long sigh escapes your lungs and through your parted lips—wet, red, and kissed raw. Your fingers curl along Arthur’s thighs, anchoring yourself to the rough texture of his jeans. Your knees start to ache against the hardwood floor, grounding you as your eyes get lost in him. He breathes in an inhale, his eyes falling shut, his brows ever so gently drawing closer as his pink lips morph into the shape of his cigarette.

As he exhales, smoke dances from his parted lips in tendrils as his form slumps back into the cushions. His hand reaches up to pet your hair, smoothing the rebellious flyaways the same hand had caused.

“Y’okay down there, missy?” he asks cautiously, yet the side of his mouth quirks into a smug grin. His fingers delicately touch the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before he traces the outline of your jaw to your chin, tilting it further upwards.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice catching in your throat.

“Y’sure?” his southern drawl dropping in an octave as his eyes drink in the sight of you down on your knees before him, worshiping him.

You nod languidly, hands creeping towards his thick leather belt. He lifts his hips in response as he flicks away the falling ashes.

“Good girl…”

You let out a choked-back moan; his voice envelops you like the comforting warmth of the sun on a chilly day, leaving fresh goosebumps across your skin.

Your breath becomes shaky as you unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly. You reach your hand into his pants, cupping his forming erection in your hand and squeezing gently for good measure. Arthur sighs, his large hand continuing to stroke your body, making you feel small.

“Go’head,” he encourages, albeit a tad impatient. You pull him out, his cock thick in width with veins running up and down his length. The tip is red and already oozing with pre. You whine at the sight, your thighs rubbing together as your mouth begins to water.

You gaze back up at him as his hand eases behind your neck, coaxing you forward as you part your lips, eager to take him.

He's salty and bitter to the taste. Your tongue shyly laps at his tip, gathering his leaky essence to your taste buds before you wrap your mouth around him. You close your eyes and furrow your brows in concentration.

His hips shift, his thighs spreading wider as delicious groans spill from his sinful mouth, fingers clutching your hair as you take him deeper, trying desperately to reach the base. As soon as his tip grazes the back of your throat, you gag, hands pressing against his abdomen.

“Shhh, easy there,” he consoles, watching as you pull off of him; the strings of spit lewdly break away from his cock as it jumps from your expression, your face flushed and eyes watery, and your lips dark and puffy.

“Look’atchu…” His tender voice softly cooed, and the deep, husky timbre added warmth and depth to his praise.

“Y’alright?” he grins, turning his head to puff another cloud of smoke, the tangy scent of tobacco filling your nostrils.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning your head forward as you take him in your hands, wrapping them around his cock, suckling on the head.

“Fuck,” he grunts deeply, leaning his head back, closing his eyes as he sets the cigarette aside before curling both hands into your hair.

“Jesus, woman,” he growls, urging your face closer and closer as he lifts his hips involuntarily.

You slide your tongue up and down his sensitive skin, twisting and curling, tracing over prominent veins as you slowly make your way down. You take in a stabilizing deep breath before pushing forward, holding back a gag as he slides into your throat.

You peek your eyes open as his mouth forms into an O-like shape, his eyes screwed shut, and his thick brows pull all the way forward. His tongue spews curses and praises, causing your skin to flush deeply.

He holds you in place as he thrusts into your mouth without grace or rhythm. “Fuck, I ain't gonna last, sweetheart,” he warns, his voice tapering off into a whine.

You close your eyes, moaning around him as he uses you for his pleasure; this seems to spur him on as his cock twitches inside your throat as it contracts around him. “M’close,” he grunts, almost sounding in pain.

You brace your hands against his thighs, fighting to keep your eyes open, watching as his bliss-struck face contorts in pleasure. His grip on your hair grows painful as he holds you in place as thick ropes shoot down your esophagus, causing you to sputter, drool dripping down your lips, to your chin, and onto his lap, causing dark, wet spots to form into the seams.

Tears spill down your cheeks as you sniffle before he's easing his softening erection from your warm mouth. He can't help but grin at the sight of you: flushed, messy, and dipping.

“Aww, ain't that a pretty sight.” his eyes twinkle with mischief, dragging his knuckles across your wet cheeks.

Even after his rough manhandling, you lean into his soft touch, your chest still heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. He pulls you into his lap, his hands under your armpits as he drags you upwards. His thigh slips between yours, feeling your arousal dampen his jeans. He chuckles, dragging a heavy hand over his bearded jaw while his other paws at your hip.

“I reckon I should return the favor.”

main masterlist, rules