✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader
✦ Summary: This is the answer for a request from some time ago of an anon asking for Arthur being so in love with his girl that he forgets to pull out and finishes inside of her 🫣 For the life of me, I can't find said ask in my inbox!! Sorry for that little anon, and for how long it took.
✦ Warnings/tags: MDNI!! 18+ p in v, super fluffy, idiots in love, Arthur is so so smitten, coming inside, St Denis.
✦ Words: 2k
Arthur's pic belongs to @/delliebre on Pinterest!
Past events are written in italics.
St Denis. The windows of one of these rich hotels overflow with lewd noises, threatening to collapse under the weight of obsenity. The night outside doesn't absorb them and let them fade, all the contrary. And inside, those silk sheets and fluffy pillows are probably the only good thing this damn town has to offer, Arthur thinks to himself. Especially when he can have you all to himself, lying under him, his large hips spreading your thighs so widely, your back sinking into the mattress at every thrust of his.
Hearing you call his name like that. It's too much, an unthinkable oasis he would never dare imagine for a second, considering the arid desert that is his life. The sound of your voice, so soft and feminine, murmuring his name, crying out with pleasure, whispering to him during intimate nights when only the two of you existed in the world. It was the greatest gift of all.
He remembers the very first time your eyes fell on him. A look he would never have deserved even if he had repented for centuries. A look that not even the most pious of saints would deserve. The second your pupils caught his, he knew it was too late. He'd never see the sky the same way again, because no stars would ever shine as bright as you.
"Oh please, like that!" You pleaded, the pace and angle he had found spreading waves of pure pleasure through you with every move of his.
He groaned deeply in reply, strong arms encircling you on either side as his hips pounded relentlessly, a slow but steady rhythm. His cock plunges deep, all the way in, striking that spot inside of you that makes life worth living.
He stares down at you for a few seconds, your breasts bouncing thanks to his thrusts, making his muscles tighten and that itch in his balls burning.
The first time he had caught a glimpse of them, the blouse you were wearing that day was soaked after a banter with Sean that ended up in the fresh waters of the lake. Walking out of it on the shore, he had confirmation that mermaids did indeed exist. The droplets of water running down your chest, like pearls of diamonds. The swell of them, barely hidden by the damp fabric sticking to your curves, teasing his sanity. You were a test made for mortal men about the sin of Lust.
He had been quick to steal glances from you. From across the campfire. When you were both feeding your horses. When he was cleaning his gun. And you had been looking back. At first, he couldn't believe it; his thick, stubborn skull convinced him it was a trick of the light. But you were. And he loved it. He could feel his neck turning red, his cock getting hot against his will when you would stare at him for too long. Especially when he was chopping wood, he had noticed.
"I -Oh, God damn it,- I ain't stopping sweetheart, I ain't." Balancing his weight on only one arm, he swiftly grabbed your right leg and brought it to his shoulder, making you cry out, the new angle even better than before. "Ah- Not until you had it all."
And you would get it too fast for your liking. His abdomen rocking back and forth, bending his belly in this hypnotizing movement every time he sinks into you. The veins on his shoulders and neck as all his muscles are used to fuck you good and proper. His big, rough hand holding your thigh up against him. His eyes fixed on your face. It's all too much for you.
"Yeah, give it t'me, girl." He orders between gritted teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your leg.
The first time you had made love together. Oh, how he wanted to please you. To show you the love he had been hiding for so long, his journal the only witness to his secret. Because behind the baser instincts and forbidden desires already laid a stronger, much more powerful feeling. Oh, he should have known from the start. He should have known himself after all these years. Sexual attraction was just the tip of the iceberg and always hid something else. The affection he felt for you and still feels for you today has never stopped growing. His need to protect you, to make you happy, to have you all to himself bordered on obsession. The way he had held you that night, touched you. Like it was a privilege. Like you were an angel who'd spread its wings and disappear, far, far away from him in the morning. Slow, and tender, and so different from what you had expected. The roughness had come later, once he was sure he wouldn't hurt you. Once he was persuaded you wanted it. Then, and only then, he had started really letting all out, both of you eager and rough and wild.
You cry out in pleasure, and he fucks you through it, whispering tender praises at you, cock filling you just like you need it, steadily pumping in and out until the very last drop of your orgasm.
Oh that clench around his cock —that sweet, warm and tight pressure all around him. He had almost forgotten all about it. He wanted to feel it every goddamn day of his miserable life, but most of all, he wanted to make you feel this good every holy day of yours. He loved you, so goddamn much. So much it was almost frightening him. So much he could move mountains for you, dive the deepest Ocean, kill anyone you'd tell him to. Damn it he felt like a goddamn dog you'd keep in leash. But so, so proud he was the one able to push you to that edge.
"Yeah, that's right, that's my girl." He sighs, voice getting desperate as he looks at your pleasured and disheveled face, hair a mess and mouth open, high-pitched moans of pleasure escaping softly from your throat again. Now that he has accomplished his mission, he isn't going to last long.
The way you mended his clothes just like you patched up his heart. The softness of your caresses. The way you were taking care of him more than anyone had before. That night you had kept him completely against your heart so that he could fall asleep. The way you were always standing up for others. That look you gave him when he was being sarcastic. Your words covering his when he said shit about his look in front of the mirror. Your laugh shattering through all the other ones in camp. The way your lips felt. Your perfume still filling his nose when he fell asleep alone. Oh, how he loved you.
He's so close it's becoming almost painful. He can't take it anymore —the feeling of your naked skin everywhere against his once again, the warmth of your pussy welcoming him in this unholy embrace he shouldn't be granted with. All those memories filling his enamored brain as he keeps on rutting you, unable to stop himself, wanting to do one with you. The pleasure you're giving him is just too much for his poor sanity, and he let go of your leg to snake both of his arms around your middle section, pressing you all against him as his ass contracts and swells to keep on thrusting inside.
He's almost there, but he keeps his cock inside, the hard line of his so firm he's almost impaling you now.
And as he is losing himself in you, one of your hands gently runs through his hair from the base of his neck all the way up to his messy hazelnut strands, touch so gentle, so loving, so perfect, your statisfied blissed state contrasted with his phrenetic one, and you whisper all against his ear,
He moans so deeply it turns into a growl, his head buried in the loop of your shoulder and neck, his cock letting everything go as if you just had ordered him to come. You can feel it, deep inside, his thick and hot cum filling you up for the first time, and you could have been thrown over the edge once again too if it wasn't so soon. His embrace is almost suffocating as he's holding you stronger than ever.
A few seconds pass, and his pace finally slows, his softening shaft moving slightly and sloppily inside your pussy with wet and filthy noises, like a spoon twirling into honey —wanting to put off the moment he'll have to pull out. And that feeling, God. Every last move from him is answering your words. "Me too. Me too. Me too." He's a mumbling mess, words just grunts of pleasure and bliss and desperation against your skin.
Both of you spend and euphoric, you moan and sigh for a few more seconds suspended in time. He then rolls to one of his sides and is about to snuggle against you with that pleased smile he has after sex, when he suddenly goes straight up in a quick and clumsy move. He looks straight at you, eyes wide, mouth opening in an almost panicked expression, not the hint of a smirk on his lips.
"Oh, shit! Shit, sweetheart, I'm sorry I-" His hands fly over your body without daring to touch you, as if he were going to make things worse.
"God, you should have yelled to me, you should have pushed me back!" His throat feels like someone is strangling it. How could he have been so stupid?! He couldn't even stop himself; he had completely forgotten. Not better than a fucking animal in heat. "Damn it Morgan, goddamn bastard y'a are!"
"Push you back, with your full weight on me?" You chuckle, but he doesn't. You sigh softly with a small grin of your own. "Arthur, look at me." You add, one of your hands reaching for the side of his face, stubble slightly prickling you.
He does as you ask, his eyebrow up in a deep expression of regret. His chest rises and falls quickly. The guilt and shame of what he just did are twisting his guts. The fear of what it implies and what he did to both of you even worse. Goddamn dog he is.
"It's okay. I don't mind."
There are a few seconds of pure silence, and you can almost see the gears turning behind his forehead as he processes your words.
"No. I just told you, I love you." You hold his gaze, deeply. Having been with him for some time now, you know that the words that follow will be important, decisive even. "And I wouldn't mind starting a family with you, if that happens."
Arthur burst out in joy, which, of course, only shows by the way he smirks from one ear to the other and looks down, sighing through his nose. He then turns his head to put a quick kiss on your forehead. He doesn't answer right away, but you need him to. The way all of his worries seem to have vanished forever is more than enough. He gets up from the luxurious bed, searching for a towel or anything else to clean you up. You lazily stay there, not bothering to look at his naked body walking in the room as if he was the master of the place, his cock, still big and heavy even softened, swaying as he moved.
"That's the first time." He says when he comes back with a white, fresh, and perfumed towel. God, being rich was really something else.
"First time you say it t'me." He explains as he sits beside you, carefully cleaning your cunt he had just filled up. There's a wild and savage side in him, hidden between the shame and the guilt that feels so pleased to see his cum dripping out of it like that. What a sight.
"You never said it either, as far as I know."
"'s better when you say it," He chuckles lowly.
"Hush now, or I'll crush you under my 'massive weight' again."
You both laugh together. You stay naked for the rest of the night, cuddling, talking, dreaming. It's only when you're on the verge of falling asleep, the comforting warmth of his body against yours shielding you from the freshness of the night, that Arthur answers,
a/n: as always, english isn't my first langage, please reach out to me if you spot any spellings! Thank you so much for reading all this to the end, please consider reblogging or commenting if you liked, it would mean the world to me!
