How about a male reader, where Arthur is hesitant to admit to his attraction to him but after the reader teases him back at camp by the fire, Arthur drags him away and tops him?
(haven’t done this in a while, hope you like it!!)
Alright, these were the tightest jeans you owned and if this didn’t do it, nothing would. Everyone was sat at the scout campfire, singing and drinking. You peeked out of your tent to see if Arthur was there and sure enough, he was sat in his usual spot, smoking a cigarette and keeping out of the conversation. A man of few words.
You took your spot across from him and John tapped your knee.
“How you doin’ tonight, y/n?”
“Almost didn’t come out,” you said, stretching and letting your shirt ride up. Desperate times called for desperate measures, “too tired.”
It had been a hot day and most of the camp’s members had stripped down as much as they could to deal with the sweltering heat. Of course, you had taken the opportunity to strip down to your ranch pants and suspenders, leaving your bare chest to gleam in the sun. You were also quite pale, having staying indoors or in the shade most of your life, but maybe Arthur was into people he could throw around like a sack of potatoes.
Indeed, you had seen him flicking glances at you as you threw around actual sack of potatoes, hoping your skinny arms were enough to get him going. He was a hard man to read. At one point, you sauntered up to his tent where he lay with his journal. He looked up at you and your sweat covered brow and wet chest and looked murderous.
“Anything I can do for you, Mister Morgan?”
He looked like he had a lot of things for you to do, but he politely said-
“You can wash my clothes over there.”
Your eyes had flicked to the pile on the trunk at the foot of his bed and you gathered them up in your arms.
“Want to come watch me?” you asked, “just to make sure I do it right.”
“You sayin’ you can’t wash a load of clothes right?”
You rolled your eyes at him. Buzzkill.
Still, you felt a pair of eyes piercing into your back as you had left.
Now you had your shirt back on but had left the top unbuttoned, just as Arthur had. You knew he wanted you, but damn if you were going to make the first move. Your saving grace came as Abigail approached and saw John sitting next to the fire. You sprung up and offered your seat.
“Here Miss Roberts,” you said, moving out of the way.
“Why thank you, y/n,” she replied with a hint of surprise, sitting down next to John, “you’re a true gentlemen.”
You bowed and turned around, giving Arthur a deadly grin. He groaned and budged up, making room for you on the little blanket spread out on the ground.
“Glad to see you again, Mister Morgan,” you said quietly. Everyone was drinking and off in their own worlds, hardly paying attention to either of you. Arthur drained the last of his beer and threw the bottle somewhere in the distance.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to open up a bit you know,” you said when Arthur didn’t say anything. You couldn’t get caught up with feelings but here you were. Arthur grunted again.
“Good to see you too, y/n,” he finally said as if there were a gun to his head.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” you chuckled, putting a hand on his thigh lightly. You looked around to see if anyone was watching you but they were all too plastered to see three feet in front of them. Arthur seemed to notice this too and looked down at your hand.
“Where are you goin’ with that, boy?”
Shit if you could hear that tone for the rest of your life you’d die happy.
“Sorry, sir,” you apologized, squeezing his thigh and removing your hand, “I suppose I’ll just stick to washing your clothes for you.”
You gave him a side glance and noticed the growing bulge in the front of his jeans and felt so damn proud of yourself.
“I’m heading to my tent for the evening,” you said, thumbing at the waist of your pants and moving them down a bit, just to show him there was nothing underneath.
“Alright kid,” he growled and grabbed you by the arm, yanking you up. He held up a hand to the onlookers (the few that had the mental capacity to know there was something going on). “S’alright, gonna show him how to tie up the horses for the night.”
“You gonna tie me up, Mister Morgan?” you asked.
“I’m gonna do a lot more than that,” Arthur said, continuing to drag you to the shadowy part of the camp, just beyond the hitching station but not far enough to lose light from the fires.
He slams you against a tree and you just can’t help but smile.
“I don’t know what you’re smilin’ about, boy,” he says, grabbing you by the hip and bucking his into it. That wipes the grin off your face and you let out a moan, oh god how you’ve waited for this.
“Just happy you’ve come to your senses, sir,” you manage to get out.
“My senses?” he repeats incredulously, undoing his belt and trying to get his pants down, “at least I got some because you don’t seem to have any.”
Probably not. You help him get his pants down and grab his cock, squeezing hard and getting a decent moan out of him. You could do better.
He grabs you by a shoulder pushes you down to your knees, an unspoken command that would have sounded really hot coming from him but you weren’t about to push your luck. You take him in your mouth at once, sucking like it was the cure for TB. You got another long moan out of him and he rakes his fingers through your hair, tugging it to one side.
“Get it nice and wet,” he said, thrusting his hips gently into your throat. You could do this all day but the promise of his dick inside of you was too good to pass up. You let his head hit the back of your throat one more time and squeeze his balls a little before standing back up and wiping your mouth.
The sight was apparently too much for Arthur, who tugged your hair again and kissed you hard, his rough stubble against yours because you were both barbarians who didn’t have the time to shave but it made him look so much more handsome. He released you and spun you around, pining you to the tree and you helped him with your pants as much as you could, spreading your legs to accommodate him.
He pushed two fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them as pornographically as you could and he pressed his cock against your ass, grinding on your entrance and it made you press your forehead against the tree. You were already beginning to sweat as he slid his wet fingers down your back, the top of your ass, and finally down to your hole, pressing lightly with one finger.
“You better be ready for me,” he near whispered in your ear and you nodded fiercely. He pushed a finger in and you had to relax as best as you could. His fingers felt huge, you wondered how he’d fit the rest of his gigantic dick in you. He fucked you slowly with one, then two fingers, stretching you slowly and it became easier for you to relax as he put another hand on your hip. He slid it around to grab your own half-erection, jerking you just as slowly and kissing your ear, your neck, biting that space between your shoulder and collarbone.
You were as ready as you’d ever be, breathing shallow and pinned against this tree ready to accept this beast of a man finally. For all his gruffness and talk, the way he held you was so gentle, so soft. He put a hand on your hip and took his cock in the other, lining it up with your entrance and pushing so slowly. You let your breath out in a hiss and bit a knuckle.
“You okay, boy?”
Good lord you were more than okay, you were soaring, but all you could do was nod your head and push back just the tiniest bit into him.
He pushed further and further, achingly slow until after what seemed like weeks he was buried completely inside you. The pair of you let out a breath you’d been holding and he grabbed your hip just a little tighter.
“Hold on, there,” his tone was hushed and he sounded miles away but also in every bone in your body. He began to move the tiniest bit, pulling out just a little and snapping his hips back up. You reached down and began jerking yourself in time with his movements, pushing back each time he thrust into you.
Your back was covered in sweat and Arthur began pumping faster, the sound of your bodies hitting each other in the dark was muffled but you wish you could have heard his moans a little more. He was breathing hard, grabbing both of your hips now and you thought maybe next time you could get him to slap your ass a little. Provided there was a next time.
You looked over your shoulder and saw his open shirt exposing a hard chest, barely visible in the firelight, his bare hips pounding into you and you lose it, coming all over your hand and barely stifling a cry. It seemed to spur him on and he slammed into you hard a few times before digging his blunt nails into your hips and letting out a long moan of his own.
You both stand there, catching your breath as he slowly released his grip from you. He pulled out carefully, stumbling back to let you turn around and pull your pants up.
“You try that again, I won’t be so nice next time,” he said, redoing his own clothes and pointing a threatening finger at you.
“So there will be a next time then?” you tease, sauntering up to him.
He grunts at you and allows you to kiss him, smiling at you as you pull away. Man of few words.
