#twola1k

[twola]

Riding arthur and him just putting his hat on you and laughing, I feel like we need more fun smuts yaknow

Your hips splay over his; large, warm hands encircle your waist. Your fingers spread out over the broad planes of his chest, granting you leverage as you undulate atop him.

The sinful sounds of wet skin sliding against wet skin fill the room, interspersed with deep grunts, high-pitched moans, and gasping breath.

Clothes litter the floor, a gunbelt is slung over a chair. The sheets of the too-nice bed are bunched up near the foot of it, while the frame squeaks with the flurried movements of the bodies atop it.

“Tha’s it, you’re such a good girl.”

The deep drawl of his voice goes straight to your cunt, making you moan aloud when your hips come down on his, your knees shaking with the exertion you’re putting your legs through, thighs burning like you’re in the saddle.

A hand moves from your waist up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your spit-slicked nipple and you shiver, your whole body shaking as you cannot help to clench around him.

“Arthur-” you pant.

Laid out beneath you, the outlaw bucks his hips up when he senses your fatigue, and the hand on your breast leaves, moving over to the side table next to the bed. You slow your hips, a questioning look in your eye.

Arthur grins, one hand moving down to your rear and squeezing mischievously. He grabs what he’s reaching for with the other - that old, beat up gambler’s hat.

Before you can ask what he’s doing with it, he pushes that hat down on your head - it’s far too big for you and lands slightly crooked before you right it, finding his face again. He chuckles, laugh lines appearing underneath the sandy brown stubble of his beard.

“Yer a right cowgirl now - y’like ridin’ me, dontcha?”

You laugh, the smile on his face infectious as you place one of your hands upon the hat to keep it atop your head. You lean down and place your lips on his, tilting the brim back as to not impede.

His tongue presses into your mouth, and your hips still as your attention is fully on kissing him, your other hand braced on the bed above his shoulder as his arms wind around your ribcage.

You begin to roll your hips again, and with him buried so deep within you, the both of you moan into each other’s mouths - losing yourself in each other once again.

[twola]

Arthur definitely grips the headboard

Somehow you always had known he could be like this. One doesn’t get the reputation that he does by handing out flowers and being gentle.

Deep down, you had also known that this side of him simmered beneath the surface. Though he has been nothing but a gentleman to you through this courtship, or whatever you’d call it, you knew there would be a moment when he snaps, taut like a rope.

The pillow mercifully muffles your hoarse voice, strung out and breathless as you are completely under his control, pressed down into the mattress as if you were to melt into it.

Thoroughly used and fucked out, your moans and cries have become guttural as you smother them by shoving your face into the pillow, having lost your fight with gravity long ago.

Although you can do nothing more than accept, he on the other hand is still full of energy he is taking out on you. Your arms have gone useless, unable to hold you up for some time now. Having fallen forward into the pillow, your back is arched and hips held up by one of his large hands.

“Tha’s it,” he grunts above you, throwing his hips into yours, mercilessly pumping his cock into your cunt. You groan again into the pillow as he slams into you hard.

“Take it, fuck - take it,” he hisses as he leans further over you, one of his hands leaving your hips and clutching at the headboard of the bed. It’s been banging against the wall for the last several minutes, surely alerting the other guests of the hotel what you were up to.

You mewl piteously. You won’t be able to ride a horse for a week at this point. Your cunt is sopping wet as he pounds into you, bruises from his fingers already blooming across your skin. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come; from the second he shut the door behind you in this hotel room, he’s been on you like a man possessed.

Maybe he’s riding the high of the score. Maybe it’s taking frustration out.

“Ngh, Arth- agh - Arthur-”

Hearing his name muffled into the pillow seems to drive him wild, clenching your hips with one hand and pressing you down, down into the mattress as his cock hits spots so deep inside you you swear you’re going to pass out.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl-” he pants as his breakneck pace begins to falter, leaning heavily on the headboard, his knuckles white from gripping it.

“Gonna fill you up, g-gonna-”

His babbling devolves into a low moan as he slams his hips down into yours one final time. He remains still for a moment, breathing heavily as he finds his release deep into your waiting cunt.

Arthur groans as he pulls out, his cock near dripping with his spend and your slick. He flops down next to you in the bed as you slowly roll onto your side.

He breathes out through his nose, and chuckles softly as he turns his head toward you, “Well that was different there, darl-”

“Shit, shit -” his satisfied grin drops as he sees your tear- streaked face, “Oh, oh honey - I didn’t - shit.”

He draws you into his embrace, cupping your cheek as his brow furrows, you can see in his eyes the guilt overtaking him.

“ M’okay-”

“Jesus, what a bastard I am-”

“Arthur-” You press your hand against his sweat-dotted sternum, “I’m fine. Seriously. Maybe just gonna a bit sore riding.”

He clenches his jaw, obviously not thrilled with your answer.

“Christ, I’m sorry. Last thing I ever want to do is hurt-”

You cut him off by surging forward and pressing your lips to his, pressing your tongue inside, throwing your leg over his hip to plaster yourself against him.

He’s breathless by the time you pull away, one arm tight around your waist.

You smile, reaching up and brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead.

“Just warn a girl next time, Mister Morgan.”

His cheeks blaze red for a moment before you lean in and kiss him again.

[twola]

pls pls pls can we have a little drabble of arthur eating reader out 🧎🏻‍♀️ i can’t stop thinking about him hidden underneath her skirts so she can only feel his lips on her

It’s certainly not ladylike, these noises that you’re making - gasping, moaning, wailing-

“Arthur please-”

Begging.

But no, the outlaw beneath your skirts would not give you mercy, licking and sucking and squeezing. He had crawled in between your thighs as the two of you lounged in the mountain meadow, bright red poppies scattered on the hillside.

Your breath hitches as he nibbles at the the sensitive skin of the jointure of your thigh and cunt.

He licks one long, slow stripe up the seam of your body, tongue parting your folds, and a broken sound of pleasure escapes you as your dig your fingers into the dirt beneath you.

He groans against you, thick with arousal himself, and swirls his tongue around that bud of your pleasure, warm and wet and overwhelming.

As much as you want to watch the bobbing of his head covered by your skirts, you have to throw your head back and keen when he moves downward and finally pushes his tongue past the rim of your cunt.

“Shit- Arthur-”

He grunts in response, his hands pulsing on your thighs like a livewire. His chapped lips are rough against the sensitive skin of your folds, as he shoves his tongue deeper into your cunt.

You draw your skirts up, slowly revealing his shoulders, his neck, and finally his shorn hair, you’re unable to stop yourself from running your fingers through those honeyed strands.

His eyes refocus on yours, his mouth fully over your cunt. He stares, those blue pools deep enough for you to drown in, takes a breath through his nose, and without wrenching his gaze away, he sucks.

Your reaction is immediate, a high, keening wail as you come. His hands tighten around your hips as you buck into him.

He draws away, his mouth and chin glistening wet with your slick. You pant, incredulous as you’re barely able to keep yourself upright.

“Perfect little thing you are.” Arthur rumble, a smile creeping across his face. He sits up on his knees.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reaches toward the buttons of his pants.

[twola]

i know arthur is a giver but sometimes i think he’d like being cruel. i have this image of him leaned back in a chair taking a drag out of his cigarette with reader writhing on his lap with tears in her eyes practically begging for him to do anything to her while he watches with feign indifference

Hooo boy. Okay, this is my first shot at a true low honor Arthur.

Lookin' for Trouble

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The afternoon light was more than enough for you to finally get to reading after getting Grimshaw’s list of chores done. Finally, you’d be able to crack open this book that Hosea lent you all those weeks ago.

All of a sudden, the light is obscured over the pages of your book, and when you look up, you place a hand over your eyes to see the mountain of a man before you, peering down at you with a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Oh, Arthur, I didn’t realize you’d be back so quick.” You smile up to him, closing the book and moving to your knees to stand up.

An outstretched hand juts into your view, “Ain’t nothin’ interesting in that backwater town.”

You take it and allow him to pull you up, but you frown up at him and don’t let go, turning both of your hands so that his knuckles face the two of you. The skin is broken and oozing a small amount of blood.

“Oh dear, let me clean that up for you in your tent.”

You drop his hand and he follows, smoking that cigarette without a reply. On its head, it must be a funny sight, the grizzled outlaw following your small frame back to his tent so dutifully. 

He pulls the canvas down after the two of you enter the tent, tall enough being built off his wagon. The perks of being the enforcer of the group. You make yourself busy looking in the chest at the foot of his cot for some alcohol as you pull a handkerchief from the pocket of your skirt.

Arthur sits down on the edge of the cot, taking that old black hat from his head and dropping it atop the pillow that had seen better days.

“Here we go,” you dab your handkerchief with a bottle of god-knows-what and move back toward where Arthur sits.

He places the still-lit cigarette in the little glass tray at his bedside, the end of it continuing to smolder as he blows smoke toward the top of the tent, away from you.

You frown, twisting your head to change your view of his outstretched knuckles. “It’s an awkward angle, I-”

He cuts you off by making you yelp as his free hand shoots around your hip and pulls you down, your rear colliding with his firm thigh, his hand on your hip balancing you as you regain your composure.

“Oh… thanks…” you blush slightly, having been caught off guard. You return to dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles, his large hand outstretched and dwarfing yours, as you perch upon his thigh, your back flush to his barrel chest.

“How did this happen?” You ask softly as you pick at the dirt in his inflamed, broken skin. 

“Y’know, a bit of this, bit of that.”

You sigh, “I really hope you ain't out pickin’ fights, Arthur.”

Arthur hums dismissively in response, jostling you slightly on his thigh. He props the cigarette between his teeth and his free hand moves forward and begins bunching your skirts up, the hem of your dress being pulled higher and higher.

“Arthur-” You go to scold, but his searching hand gravitates right over where he’s looking for, pressing against your cunt through your bloomers. You give another yelp as his finger digs at the cotton, prodding and stroking and petting.

“A-Arthur, I’m tryin’ to-”

As you go to grip his forearm with both hands, his injured hand darts downward, grasping both of your wrists and holding them away from your body, essentially binding you and leaving you unable to stop his ministrations.

A low, satisfied noise rumbles out through his chest as you pant, his fingers edging the leg of your bloomers open and touching your bare skin. Just barely touching, teasing, as you squirm in his lap, his hold on your wrists as strong as iron. 

You honest-to-god whine, tears welling behind your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to break free of his hold on your hands, trying to jut your hips into his hand more.

“A-Arthur- god, please-” you gasp aloud, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you beg. He removes his hand entirely and you nearly sob at the loss.

Cracking your eyes open, you see him pull the cigarette from his mouth and place it in that glass tray, mashing the butt into the ash as he puts it out. He bounces his thigh as his hand returns to your cunt, chuckling darkly as you continue to squirm.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest little thing when you’re all needy like this?”

A fresh set of tears burst from your eyes as his hand snakes into your bloomers again to rub at you.

“P-please-”

“Please what, what d’ya need darlin’?”

He cups your cunt fully and helps you roll your hips over his thigh bone, and it’s all you can do not to sob loudly at the frustration.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Arthur please, please god, please touch me.”

“I am touchin’ ya’.” He responds, pleased with himself as you struggle against his grip, iron-like in its strength.

“In-inside-” you pant, continuing to squirm against him.

“Hmm, like this?”

You are able to bite back the scream you nearly let out as Arthur slides his trigger finger into your dripping cunt. He curls it with a practiced precision, and you buck in his lap, throwing your head back against the curve of his shoulder. Your temple brushes against his days-old beard before he leans in against you.

“There’s my girl,” he nips at your earlobe with haughty pride, fully taking satisfaction with the way you writhe atop him, “Makin’ them noises like a whore.”

There’s no snapping back at him, no retort back at his dry, teasing humor. You are able to do nothing but give a breathy sigh, almost agreeing with his statement.

Arthur grabs your hips and hoists you up to stand, quickly following and pushing you two stumbling steps to the table where a few of his guns are spread out. One sweep of his arm and the guns clatter into the grass before you're abruptly bent at the waist and spread out on the table.

“Arthur-”

One of his large hands splays across your lower back as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants. Essentially keeping you pinned down on the table, you have no option but to lay there and take whatever he is going to give you.

Arthur pulls your skirts up, tossing them over your hips before yanking your bloomers down and over the swell of your ass. His hand is between your legs quicker than you can sputter in indignation, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as he strokes his thick fingers in and out of your wetness. Your eyes tightly shut as you breathe out your nose, and for a moment, you’re empty as he pulls away.

The hot, blunt head of his cock prods your entrance before he pushes himself inside you, in one strong thrust. Your fingers clamp on the edge of the table as you clench your teeth at the intrusion, fluttering on the edge of pain as his thick cock stretches you. It’s always like this, he’s not much of a gentle man. 

“Tha’s it, what a good girl you are, takin’ everything I give ya.” Arthur drawls as he begins to buck his hips forward into yours, unflinchingly setting a rough, fast pace.

You’re unable to last after all the stimulation before, and it’s not long into the slamming of him into you that you begin to get that feeling that your release was imminent.

“A-Arthur-” you gasp out as you reel toward completion, the table squealing beneath you as he rocks his hips into yours faster, harder - punishing - all six foot of him hunches over you as he fucks you into a wet, messy orgasm, you pressing your forehead into the table as you clench around him.

He grunts, jerking his hips backward as his hands clamp harshly around your hips, squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises in the morning. You feel the hot splatter of his spend on your rear as he lets out a long breath through his nose, trying himself to be quiet within the confines of the tent.

You pant, still bent over the small table, your skirts flipped over your hips as your knees shake. You hear Arthur fiddle with his pants before returning to you, his hands grasping at your thighs greedily before pulling at your skirts to right them.

He swats, albeit gently, at your rear before your skin disappears under your skirts. 

“You gonna let me finish cleaning you up?” You ask, leaning over slightly to pick up your discarded bloomers from the ground, tucking them into your pocket.

Arthur sits back on his cot, his pants still unbuttoned and open unapologetically, as a sly smile creeps across his face.

“If yer really gonna clean me up, I think there’s a lot less clothing involved.”

[twola]

might i add damsel in distress with reader never having seen arthur angry before and certainly never seeing him beat the shit out of anyone but witnessing it for the first time when he saves her 🤭

You slide down the back wall of the saloon, wild eyed and terrified at the scene unfolding before you. The neckline of your blouse had been torn, buttons askew and your curve of your breast barely hidden by your chemise. The curls you had pinned your hair up into fell limply and messily over your shoulders.

You could tell a bruise was going to form where he had hit you across the face when you tried to push him away. You barely got a scream out before he slammed you back against the wooden wall, one arm pinned across your collarbones and the other one moving to hike up your skirts - evidently this man hadn’t taken kindly to your flattery trying to empty his pockets. The arm against your collarbone moved south and the tearing of your pretty blouse echoed in the night, while the man’s dirty, rough hand brushed against the inside of your knee.

You readied your lungs to scream again - but before you can, your attacker was ripped from you and handily thrown across the alley between the two buildings.

As you catch your breath, you clutch at your torn shirt as you take in the scene in front of you. Indeed, your mark was thrown into the dirt by a hulking, shadowy figure that it only takes you a moment to recognize the black gambler's hat and worn leather jacket. It's Arthur, who had come along with the group into town.

Arthur strides with heavy, measured steps over to the crumbled body of the man, reaching down with one hand to grab his collar. He hoists the man partway up, his shoulders lifted off the ground, and slams his other fist across his face. You gasp at the noise the man makes, but Arthur pays no mind.

The outlaw brings his fist across the man’s face again. And again. And again. Blood bursts from his mouth and his nose cracks out of alignment. A tooth falls out of the man’s mouth as he loses consciousness.

You huddle against the wall as you watch Arthur beat this man, blood staining his knunckles as he continually slams his fist into the man’s face. You knew, obviously, that this line of work likely required this kind of skillset from Arthur, but it was a different thing entirely to see it in action. Terrifying actually.

After so many blows you’ve lost count, and are unsure if the man is dead or not, Arthur drops him to the ground, a bloody pulp, as he wipes his knuckles against his pants and turns toward you, completely nonchalant.

Arthur holds his hand out in front of him, offering it to you. You take his hand and allow him to pull you up, stumbling slightly as you try to hold your blouse up to salvage at least a bit of your dignity. Arthur immediately pulls his jacket off and lays it upon your shoulders, winding an arm around you to help you walk toward his horse. You curl into his body, large and warm and strong.

He’s gotten you up to his horse, lifting you as if you were nothing.

“Y’alright?”

You nod, still thunderstruck about what you witnessed before. His hands linger on your hips, one of his thumbs rubbing a comforting circle. How is this man the same brute that beat that other one bloody?

“Sorry you had to see that, I know you ain’t used to seeing it.”

“It- it's okay.” You mumble, pulling his jacket around you tighter, your gaze wrenched away from his, falling upon a bloody spot on the collar of his blue shirt. Your hand unconsciously moves to wipe at it, but his hand catches yours midair.

Your eyes slowly make their way back to his. Arthur’s large, rough hand places yours gently upon your thigh.

"Ain't no need for you to be gettin' any blood on you on my account."

"But it's alright for you to get bloody for me?"

He tilts his head down, his eyes hidden by that hat, and he taps your hip before letting you go. You immediately miss the warmth of his hands on you.

"Always, darlin’. ”

[twola]

Just my favourite thing about Arthur is how he rests his hand on his belt like yessssss sassy pose!!!

Stance

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

A wet shirt hits you in the face. You sputter, peeling it off of you and turn back toward the wash bin from where your attention had pulled you away.

Karen sits across from you with a self-righteous grin, elbow deep in the murky water. Mary Beth covers her mouth to laugh as she is pinning a pair of pants on the line strung from the wagon to a nearby tree branch.

“The hell was that for?” You grumble, wiping your face with the sleeve of your blouse.

“You should try bein’ more subtle bout the fact you’re sleepin’ with him?” Karen states with a sly grin.

You sputter again, your face going crimson, “I-I’m not, we’re not-”

Karen tilts her head as if she’s going to scold you. “Wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart.”

You let out a sigh, blush still staining your cheeks. You know you’ve been caught, “Ugh, how do you know that?”

Mary Beth slinks over toward the tub to whisper between the two of you, “The way you’re staring at that gunbelt round his hips doesn’t do you any favors.”

Karen bursts into laughter, “Like a damn cat in heat you are.”

As if it was possible to get any redder, you do, immediately staring down into the water as you scrub even harder at the piece of laundry in your hands.

As the two girls laugh amongst themselves, you steal a look back toward Dutch’s tent, trying not to be as obvious this time. Arthur stands talking to Dutch, cigarette in one hand, the other resting upon the large buckle of the gunbelt slung low on his hips.

Turning back to the laundry, you cannot help but to smile to yourself. Sure, you’d have to endure their teasing, but it wasn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things.

Not when you’d be able to take that gunbelt off of him later tonight.

[twola]

Congratulations on the 1k followers 🥳🎉 it is so deserved. As your requests are open I wondered if you would be interested in writing a follow up to "In The French Way", with either Arthur giving or receiving? Your pick! It's my firm belief that Arthur is an ass man and I would love to see more of that in fics.

Thank you for you continued service to cowboy horniness 🫡

Ask and ye shall receive, my dear @readingcoco 🍑

In the French Way II

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous

cw: anal sex, cowboy giving.

Skin to skin, he’s so warm pressed against your back in the bed, his hips instantly pressing forward into yours, the long line of his cock flush against your ass. 

The morning light trickles through the curtained windows, the street outside slowly coming to life with the sounds of city life - horses and people and the ring of the trolley bell a few blocks away.

But here, locked away in the temporary sanctuary the two of you have built, the idea of leaving bed is far from anyone’s mind.

Arthur takes a greedy handful of your rear, spreading you and pressing his cock to settle between your cheeks, rolling his hips forward. He suckles on your earlobe as his hands roam all over your body.

The sheets have been kicked fully off the bed and crumbled on the floor, unneeded in the humid, warm Lemoyne night. Besides, the two of you had thoroughly stained them after many rounds last night.

“Can I-...” he trails off, one hand still firmly on your hip. 

You roll your hips backward, along his cock, rubbing yourself against him, “Can you what?” you breathe out, enjoying the press of him against your rear.

Arthur groans as you slide yourself up and down his cock, seemingly losing the power of speech for a moment. 

“Can you what, Arthur?”

He surges forward, pressing the length of him against you completely, and whispers into your ear as he squeezes your hip hard.

“Can I have y’ here?”

A roll of his hips for effect. He withdraws his cock from its place against you and his hand trails down from your hip, making you gasp aloud as he slides a finger to press against puckered skin, not too hard- not delving inside, but enough to prove a point.

“I- I ain’t never done that… taken a cock….” You stutter but have to admit to yourself that you crave more of this touch, as he runs his finger up and down the skin around your rear opening in a way reminiscent of you and him last night, when he accepted your touches that bled into accepting you in his body.

“I’ll be gentle. You was gentle with me - let me return the favor.”

You’re panting as the pad of his finger rubs, up and down, the puckered skin so sensitive that it makes you shiver and your cunt wetter.

“Al-alright.” You stammer, but he does not make any moves to press forward.

“Only if you want to, sweetheart.” Arthur removes his hand, skimming it over your hip again, gentle and calming, “ ‘only if it’ll make you feel good.”

You pause, biting your tongue as your cunt clenches around nothing, wanting him to return his hand to where it was. 

“Let’s try.”

Arthur leans closer and nibbles at your earlobe as he groans, a full-throated rumble from his chest. He presses his cock against your ass hard, slipping lengthwise between your cheeks without assistance from his hand.

His hand moves forward from your hip, snaking between your thighs to your cunt. You uncontrollably open your legs for him, mewling as he strokes your damp skin.

“Gonna have you come for me first.”

Arthur finds the bundle of nerves and gently rubs at it, you gasp as you press back against him, your head tipping backward against his shoulder with his ministrations.

It’s several minutes like that - you feel like you could drown and he increases the tempo to make you a quivering, sobbing mess by the time he moves his fingers down and gently presses two of them inside your cunt. You come immediately, shaking, gasping, moaning against him as he kisses up and down your neck.

By the time you can catch your breath, he pulls his hand from you gently, unwinding himself from the embrace he had you in to roll out of bed, stepping over discarded clothing to get to his satchel, rifling through it as you turn around in bed.

“What’re you doin’?” You ask breathily.

“Gettin’ somethin’ to make it easier.” He grunts back at you as you admire his naked form, his pale skin usually hidden by his clothes, the scars and marks that tell his story.

He drops the satchel back to the floor when he finds what he is looking for, turning back to the bed. You cannot help but smile when you see his cock jutting out from his pelvis, rigid and hard for you.

Arthur slides back into the bed next to you and starts prying off the lid of the small tin he obtained.

“What’s that?” You ask, peering down at it.

“ ‘s a balm. Now c’mon girl, turn around and lemme make you feel good.”

One large hand clamps on your hip and pushes you to turn around again, facing away from him.

He rubs the balm, warm between his fingers, against your skin, and you gasp as the slippery substance is spread around the puckered skin of your opening. He plays with you for a few moments, and you try to swallow back mewls of pleasure before he slips his pointer finger inside, gently, slowly breaching the ring of muscle at your opening. You shiver as he slides his finger deeper, all the way to the knuckle, circling within you slowly.

“Y’okay?”

“Mhm.” You mumble, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. You press your hips backward to take his finger deeper. He kisses down your neck to the curve of where it meets your shoulder.

He groans as he sinks a second finger into you, you shudder at the stretch. After several moments of gentle thrusting, he nips at your earlobe before pulling his fingers from you.

You peer back over your shoulder to see him slathering his hard cock with the balm, pumping it as his skin shines glossy in the morning light. He turns over to lay against your back.

Arthur guides his cock against your opening and gently presses the tip into you, his hand leaves his length and immediately searches for yours as he throws his arm over your waist.  He finds it and interlaces your fingers as he kisses the back of your neck as you try to relax yourself.

He presses forward, the first inch of him entering you through the tight ring of muscle, which spasms slightly at the intrusion. You gasp as his cockhead becomes sheathed within you, stretching you out.

“Okay?”

You shake your head, unable to make a sound, as you squeeze your fingers between his hard. Yes, it hurts, actually, it burns, but in a way that leaves you wanting, aching for more. He carves a space out for himself that no man has been before.

He slides in another inch. Christ, you could swear you feel protruding veins on his shaft you’re so tight and sensitive around him. 

He’s about halfway in when he wrests the arm underneath you past the curve of your waist, moving his hand to cup upward toward your pelvis, immediately pressing it between your thighs, seeking out your clit to rub against it. You cannot help but moan aloud before catching yourself as he strokes the little nub of your pleasure. As your cunt clenches around nothing, you press backward to take more of him in, leaving him gasping as he catches on and pushes forward, your rear meeting his pelvis as he’s fully sheathed within you. The ring of muscle stretched by his cock quivers delightfully, overpowering the dulling ache in your hips.

Arthur nips at your earlobe again, rubbing slowly at your clit, “God, you’re so tight.” He groans while trying to stay still, “Everythin’ I am not to spill in ya right now.”

“Yeah?” You sigh breathily, your body grows used to him, the pain and burning fading away against the lovely sensation of being full and warm. You squeeze the hand still interlaced with his. A moan escapes you as a spasm in your stretched muscle makes you clench down on him, your whole body shivering as he groans against the clutching.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulsing his hips gently back and forth, testing you, and you moan receptively.

He growls in your ear as he starts to rock back and forth from a slow, gentle undulation, “Wanna spend inside you- let me, agh, let me this time, darlin’.”

An enticing concept, and your cunt clenches needily as you imagine him letting go inside of you, something he won’t normally do.

“Yes,” you rasp as he starts to slowly thrust his cock back and forth into your ass, “Come inside me.”

He groans in response, picking up speed. Slick sounds of skin slapping on skin fill the air in the tent as he leans his upper body over you and finds your lips as you turn your head toward him. His large, warm hand continues to grope at the apex of your thighs, clit throbbing as he presses his middle finger against it.

You whine into his mouth, loudly, as he fully fucks your ass, and you can feel his rigid shaft throbbing within you, his responding groan telling you he’s close too. With each movement of his cock, the slick, soft skin of him rubs delightfully against the puckered ring at your opening - an overwhelming feeling in its own right. His finger circling your clit sends you down that road of no return.

And at once, he thrusts his hips forward hard, burying himself as deep as he can go, and abruptly sheathes two fingers deep within your cunt, and you come almost immediately, clenching tightly around him. He grunts as you nearly scream into his mouth, his cock twitching within your ass as he jets his hot load within you. You dig your nails into the hand you hold and he squeezes hard in return.

You both come down slowly, panting, and he removes his fingers from you and moves to draw gentle circles on your hip before slowly retracting his cock, a small moan escaping your mouth as he leaves you, his warm spend dribbling out from your quivering, used hole.

Arthur leans over and kisses your cheek softly, “You alrigh’?”

You smile as you nuzzle yourself back into his embrace. “Mhm,” you say with a satisfied sigh.

“Y’may not want to ride today.” He curls into you, chuckling lightly.

You snort under your breath, quite aware of the ache in your hips and rear. 

“Is that your way of sayin’ we’ll be here another day?”

[twola]

Guys, HOLY CRAP. As something that started as a weird little blog of a slightly unhinged cowboy stan has morphed into a tumblr with 1000 followers!

I am absolutely flabbergasted, tickled pink, and floored that you guys read and like my work!

To celebrate, I’m going to open up my requests for one shots or to expand on something I’ve already done.

I can’t guarantee that I’ll get to every request or if the inspo will strike, but gimme the raunchiest Arthur shit you can think of. Yeehaw 🤠

Fics will be tagged #twola1k.