#zero.arthur
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I wanna suck Arthur off so bad
paradise, providence
arthur morgan x fem!reader.
✧ tags : fem!reader (no description of genitals, just the mention of nipples but gendered language used), deep-throating, cock-worship, praise, religious imagery. 18+
✧ wc : 1.3k
✧ a/n : me too anon. me too. got carried away thinking about arthur morgan getting blowjob and then .
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
If you weren't on your knees, hands shaking at the button of his slacks - Arthur would assume that this something happening in the sanctuary of his dreams.
You're a sight for sore eyes. Pretty feels a little juvenile for a woman like yourself. Beautiful feels too flowery. He'd only describe you in such a romantic way in the privacy of his journal, or into the dark night while you sleep in his tent.
He wipes his thumb against your cheek as you undo the button at the top of his pants, palms rubbing along the printof his cock slow. Your lashes flutter, lovesick and lusty in a way that makes Arthur's breath hitch. He makes a promise in the back of his mind that he'll return the favor to you ten fold.
"Gorgeous," He mutters, tongue laving over the split of his lips as you kiss his erection. You smile just a touch at the word he lands on. "Don't force yourself,"
"I already told you I ain't," You say steadily. Arthur gets swept up in the conviction as easily as he gets swept up in you. "I want too,"
"That's what I'm having a hard time with understanding, sweetheart."
You flash him a smile that makes his heartbeat pick up. Coy and pleasant. "Then stop trying too and let me do as I please. Alright, Mr. Morgan?"
He can't find words to respond with so he shakes his head and keeps his hands at his sides. Despite your trembling, your hands are practiced. You take his all the layers off of him in one go, though you do it slowly. His cock springs free all at once.
Too heavy to stand on it's own and half hard, he twitches at the warmth of your breath near his skin. There's something real dirty about the way you look at him. You're a good girl most of the time. Not prim but polite.
Yet you're breathing soft, bent at the knees in your nightgown and eyeing him like it's all you've ever wanted. You push your cheek up against his shaft and Arthur feels all the blood rush south. Hard as nails, his eyes can't focus anywhere but on your lips. Plush and full, you press a kiss to the base of his cock real sweetly.
"You're a real tease," He murmurs, edging on frustrated. "I'll remember that."
"I know it's not your strong suit, but patient, alright?"
It's a tall order he thinks, asking him to be patient when you've got your lips pressing kissing along the underneath side of his length. Wet and opened mouth, both hands on his thighs. He groans deep from his chest when your tongue finally touches his skin. He worries about how he tastes but you barely looked fazed and not at all displeased.
You lick a long stripe from base to tip, tracing the vein running on the underneath side of his cock with a sultry moan. You let yourself left linger ocne you're at the end, tongue flick underneath the head as pre-crum dribbles onto the surface. It's vulgar to look at it and sends a shiver down his spine. You don't react to that, either.
You make it look like it tastes good, shuddering as your hands grab tight and keep you anchored. He lets out a breath, trying not to close his eyes. He wants to keep the sight of you in his memories for any nights anyway, worshiping his cock like a well-paid working girl.
Arthur is apparently a luckier man than that. Getting this sort of service from someone so beautiful can only be a testament of that despite his rotten life. He's so stiff it hurts, hard enough that he can feel himself on edge with your every move.
You close your mouth around the tip and Arthur groans like he's been hit. The inside of your mouth is scorching hot. Feels too damn good for words. You slide your tongue around, getting used to the way he sits in your mouth before hollowing your cheeks out. You ease your down so slowly.
If he were a more discourteous fellow he'd hold you by your face and fuck your throat. In the effort of being patient, he keeps his hands at his sides and watches instead. His chest heaves in a breath, guttural moaning as the blood rush makes him lightheaded.
"Fuck, sweetheart,"
You blink up as you descend down slowly, spit and saliva pooling at as he stretches you open. Lips split at the corners, you look up with a mouth full of cock and Arthur nearly shoots his load down your throat right there. He ain't a man of worship but the sight of you on your knees is as close to paradise he could ever imagine.
He feels so mortal with the heat of your mouth. The stickiness of your saliva coating him down the base. You gag as you go deeper, eyes watering, but don't stop taking him down your throat even as he tells you not to force yourself.
"Don't deserve you, baby." He hums, unable to keep quiet. "You're too good to me."
You say something that makes your throat vibrate around his cock and his hips stutter, nearly thrusting himself even deeper. You slow down until you've swallowed all seven inches to base like it's easy. Watery eyes and your runny nose pressed to the hair neat at the base. You take a deep breath around it, swallowing all of it - tightening so much he might as well be fucking you.
He puts a hand on the back of your head head gently, not sure of what else to do with his hands. Your nipples are hard underneath your gown, arousal makes your eyes shine like gems.
It's a funny feeling Arthur gets seeing you like that. You start to move after you get him down once, cheeks still hollowing, sucking him in dutifully. You've got his cock so far in you he can see the outline of it from the outside and he can hardly think of anything else. Something ties tight in the base of his stomach, arousal flowing through his veins molten.
The private room fills with the sound of you going to work. Throaty gags and soft whines of appreciation every time he twitches, seemingly elated when filthy praise pours from Arthur's mouth like gospel. Ain't anything else he can think to do when you're take such good care of him but tell you. Gorgeous little thing you are, make him feel damn lucky, such a good girl.
He feels himself cumming hard and heavy, a sharp twist - heat flaring through his spine as he puts both hands on your head trying to pull you off of him.
"Shit, sweetheart - slow down, I'm gonna—"
The words die on his lips as you grip onto his thighs tight and swallow him down all the way again, sucking harder and deeper until Arthur feels his cum shoot right down your throat. He grunts aloud.
"Fuck!"
You make an appreciative noise as you swallow all of him down and wait for him to stop twitching before pulling off. Then, like you're being assessed - you open your mouth to show him that not a drop left.
He feels so damn dizzy he might die.
"You're more of a danger to my life than the barrel of any gun I've stared down. D'ya know that?"
Your throat is raspy as you smile and stand up, arms around his neck as you bat your eyes again. "Mm. Did you like it?"
He scoffs. "Did I—you know what, I ain't gonna give you an answer," He whispers, hands at your hips sliding down to squeeze the soft swell of your ass with a promise at his voice. "You get up on the bed and I'll show you. How's that sound?"
You grin sweet. "Sounds good to me."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
#zero.thoughts#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan smut#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 smut#zero.arthur#THIS IS FROM APRIL ANON IM SORRRYYY I SUCK#and swa—[gunshot]#ransom notes.
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the evening stretch | warm-up series.
ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.
✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+
✧ wc : 2.7k
✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.
this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.
✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.
He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.
Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.
It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.
Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.
It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.
You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.
But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.
You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.
The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.
Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.
"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."
He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.
"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."
"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.
"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"
"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."
He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.
"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."
You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.
"Is that so?"
He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."
"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."
That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.
"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."
"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"
"Trelawny, I'd guess."
You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."
"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"
Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.
You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.
Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.
He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.
"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."
"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."
'"Read my mind, then."
"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"
His smile widens.
"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"
You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.
"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."
You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.
"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"
"I'm afraid I do,"
You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.
"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.
"Burn? You feeling warm?"
"Arthur!"
And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.
"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.
"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."
He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.
"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"
"Sweetheart—"
"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."
"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."
Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."
He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.
Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.
There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.
His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.
It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.
He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.
Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.
"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"
"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"
And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.
You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.
Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.
Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.
He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.
When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.
The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.
Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.
He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.
"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"
Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.
Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.
He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.
You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."
You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.
It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.
His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.
"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"
You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.
And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.
He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.
"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."
Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.
He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.
He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.
He's sure that will always be true.
When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.
And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.
Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.
Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.
You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.
"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."
Arthur beams at you unapologetic.
"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"
You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.
"Insatiable man."
"Only for you, my girl."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2 x reader#arthur morgan smut#rdr2 smut#zero.arthur#this is OUTRAGEOUS. I WAS WARMING UP???#i need to sleep its nearly 8. jesus christ.#outlaws love letters
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you make arthur cum in his pants and hes so embarrassed he leaves camp for several days
#zero.thoughts#HE CANT LOOK YOU IN THE EYE#he is a grown man. an experienced one ! it should not be happening to him#zero.arthur
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★ — TAGS

★ housekeeping : any and all blog maintenance stuff goes here
★ outlaws love letters : fic tag
★ ransom notes. : drabbles tag
★ license for love. : any short thirsts
★ word of mouth! : ask tag / replies
★ zero.thoughts : shitpost tag
★ z.selfship : self-ship stuff
★ character specific post tagged as zero.___. i.e zero.astarion, zero.wyll, etc

#housekeeping#outlaws love letters#ransom notes.#word of mouth!#license for love.#zero.thoughts#zero.astarion#zero.wyll#zero.shadowheart#zero.halsin#zero.gale#zero.laezel#zero.karlach#zero.minthara#zero.arthur#zero.john
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