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 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
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Hi! hello! Can I request a side story #2 for puzzle pieces? Im sorry but the series is just so good!! can I request where wifey is finally pregnant and miguel is going FERAL, like he is down bad. Pls?
also if you like, add where the baby comes, ok bye!
Don't be sorry! I love writing extra Puzzle Pieces content!!
Warning: Fluff, mentions of sex, language
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Finally.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you held the pregnancy test in your hands. Your nervous smile growing wider by the second as you thought of ways to tell your loving husband, Miguel. Your heart rate pounding faster as you could just imagine your future with a little Miguel running around.
Finally.
All those nights of Miguel bullying your body paid off. The thought made your face grow flustered. Stepping out of the bathroom, you gripped onto the pregnancy test, wondering how you were going to tell Miguel.
Should you be cheesy and give him a bunch of baby food or put a bun in the oven? Maybe you should just tell him? Pouting at the thought, you wanted to be just a little clever towards Miguel.
"Oh! Oh! I know!!"
--------
It took a few days for you order to arrive. Unable to stop smiling, you placed the box in the living room and waited for Miguel to return home. He had you take the day off since you weren't feeling too well. You blamed the morning sickness on some small food poisoning.
A bad idea since Miguel was about to have his men raid the restaurant the two of you went too. You had to beg him not too, especially since it was a white lie.
Sighing at the thought, you quickly pushed it away as you heard the door open. Hurrying over, you smiled towards an exhausted Miguel.
"Welcome home~" You cooed, spreading your arms out for a hug.
"Aye, que vista (what a sight)," Miguel hummed, burying himself into your embrace, "Are you feelings better, my little bunny?" He asked, inhaling your scent.
"Hehe, I am. Are you hungry? I made dinner...and I have a surprise for you~"
"Oh? Can I have the surprise now?" Miguel chuckled, finding you adorable.
You gave Miguel a pout, but after a bunch of little kisses and hand roaming, you caved. Miguel kept his hands on your waist, kissing the back of your neck as you brought him to the couch. Whines and whimpers escaped your lips as you tried to get serious.
"M-Miggy, the puzzle," You complained.
"Sorry, sorry, mi amor (my love). Can't wait to see what you have in store for me,"
You giggled as you sat on Miguel's lap, working on the puzzle with him. You felt his breathe against your neck as he hummed every now and then. You shuddered softly when Miguel groaned softly as the word, 'baby' was formed.
"(Y/N), are you-"
"Awe, finish the puzzle,"
Miguel just chuckled as he pinned you to the couch. His eyes sparkling in awe as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. His words and feelings expressed with each moment of his body and hands.
"Thank you."
---------
Miguel was going crazy. It had been a few months since you announced your pregnancy to him. Miguel was spoiling the shit out of you. Making sure you got everything you wanted, taking care of your every whim.
If you were craving something, Miguel would get it. If your feet hurt, Miguel would massage them. Miguel was going to do everything for you.
Currently, you were at home with a big belly, being taken care of by Jessica. As much as Miguel wanted to be home with you, he still had a job to do and a mafia to run.
That, and Miguel was having a hard time resisting you. You looked so perfect with your big belly. His child inside you, growing. The thought made Miguel want you more and more. He wished for you to have their child already to Miguel could put another one in you.
"Fuck, I need to focus," Miguel grumbled.
Miguel needed to calm these thoughts. He felt like a beast wanting to devour you. How could he resist though? You always looked at him with needy and lustful eyes, whining and begging for any little thing. It was so cute.
"Soon. Soon."
----------
When it was close to your due date, Miguel took off of work and hovered over you. He had his men ready at any moment to make sure there was a clear path to the hospital for your baby. Miguel wanted to make sure everything went smoothly.
"Miggy," You whimpered, holding his hand, "You're more worried than me, hehe."
"I just want to make sure everything is smooth." Miguel pecked your forehead, stroking your hand, "I can't wait to see our child."
"Mhm~ Same~" You cooed then groaned, gasping softly, "M-Miguel...ah....m-my...hn, my water-"
"On it!"
Miguel easily picked you up, calling out to Lyla who was on speed dial. Carefully, but quickly, Miguel carried you to his car, making sure you made it to the hospital.
You were crying and breathing heavily as Miguel held your hand. His focus and attention all on you as he whispered sweet nothingness in his ear. You cried, gripping his hand tightly,
"M-Miguel! It hurts!"
"Shh, I know, baby. I know. You're doing such a good job." Miguel whispered, kissing your hand.
You cried until you reached the hospital. Miguel hurried beside you as the nurses took over. He didn't leave your side for even a second. His hand holding yours as you pushed, cried and screamed.
"AH!!!"
After one last scream and push, you breathed heavily as cries filled the room. Miguel stroked your hair and kissed your head, whispering you a good job. The nurses went to clean the baby before returning the child to the two of you.
"M-Miguel," You panted softly, "Look, our baby~ Hehe,"
"Good job," Miguel hummed, kissing you, "Such a good girl,"
Stroking your hair, you just smiled as you held your baby. The doctors congratulated the two on you on a healthy baby boy before leaving. The nurses stayed to clean you up, before transferring you to another room and the baby to the baby room.
To your request, Miguel got on the bed and cuddled you as you rested. Exhausted took over your system as you fell asleep in his arms. Miguel hummed happily, kissing your head.
---------
By the time you woke up, you were still exhausted, but also relieved. A smile formed against your lips as you looked up at your husband. Miguel was watching the news, his hands stroking your hair every now and then.
"How's our baby?"
"Healthy," Miguel responded and pecked your forehead, "How are you?"
"Tired. When can we go home?"
"Soon, baby. I know you don't like hospitals." Miguel hummed and chuckled lowly, "That much of a hurry to go home and make another baby?"
"M-Miguel!" You squeaked, covering your face in his chest, "H-How long have you....b-been ready for another one?"
"Months." Miguel said with a soft groan, nibbling against your ear, "You've been so fucking tempting."
"Miggy!" You whined softly.
Miguel just chuckled, pulling you close as he whispered dirty thoughts into your ear.
He was ready for another child.
And he wasn't going to wait much longer. Not after holding back for the last few months.
"Ah, amor, I'm going to treat you so good after doing such a good job."
"Miguuuuuuel!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope you enjoyed! Puzzle Pieces is always fun to write! Also, you all might like my new series:
Over-Time
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hiii! i really love your writings and im excited to see the new ones!
i was wondering if you could do a tom kaulitz fluff?
also no rush, i saw the new post so take your time!💜
ᡣ𐭩 shopping w tom
you and tom were out shopping at the mall, stepping into one of the stores, you look around to all the unfamiliar fabrics around you.
everything was so, tight-fitting.
you and tom had been dating for a while, and it has been going so well. you love him so much. however, for the time you have been dating tom, one of your biggest concerns as of now is that not once have you really wore anything feminine around him.
not that he cared.
tom was selfish, and very selfish in the fact that he wouldn’t want anybody else seeing the body you hid under the oversized clothes you wore everyday. in comparison to all the other girls tom has dated, they wore clothes that hugged their body snug, curves out on display 24/7.
not to say that you weren’t confident in your body, you very much were. you just found comfort in wearing clothes that didn’t have to suffocate you, comfort over anything. there were countless times you have been mistaken for a boy wearing clothes as such.
but for tom, he was the only person who could see your perfect body.
he was the only person who could relish in the true beauty you hid under all the layers of bagginess. he also adored how similar your styles were and that matching with each other was so easy, always buying two of the same shirts or sweaters for one another. he loved it a lot.
“what’s the matter?,” tom stands beside you as you hold the small, black body-con in your hands, the straps dangling off your fingers. “i don’t know if i like this, if we’re going out for dinner i want to be able to eat quite a lot. but this dress is soo gorgeous..”
he laughs at you and squishes your cheek between his thumb and index finger, you try to swat away his hand but he’s already dodging you.
“you are quite the eater,” he chuckles as you jokingly elbow the side of his body, smiling. “but whatever makes you most happy and comfortable, i will always love you and what you wear regardless.”
this man has you in a chokehold.
his way of words was so clever, whatever he said and did was always able to make your knees weak, you tilt your head at tom, staring, “i do want to be able to dress up for once..” biting your lip, tom’s eyes widen as he looks at you, the dress, and then quickly looks away. “mm, but baby you know how i feel about men.. they have no shame.”
“they can’t help but gawk their eyes at you even when you’re mine.”
he’s recalling the night were you were both out on a date, coming out the theatre from the movies. it wasn’t even anything dressy you were wearing but instead of a baggy t-shirt like you’d normally wear it was a crop top that showed off your midriff.
let’s just say it didn’t end well for that stranger, tom made it very clear who you were to him.
you pout, you weren’t upset at tom’s possessiveness, if anything it was quite hot. but you wanted to doll yourself up for your man. after all, he really deserves it for being the best boyfriend ever. “aw, but i really wanted to wear this tonight, it IS more for you than it is for me.” you smile innocently at tom who swallows hard, a little speechless at your words because you usually praise how you hate clothes like this.
what’s changed?
he imagines you in the dress, staring at your reflection in the full body-length mirror as you adjust the dress by the spaghetti straps. the dress sits right above your upper thighs, the whole thing showing off your cinched waist and chest. black was also such a sexy color, and it made tom go insane.
you definitely looked good.
as you fix your lip gloss, you bend your body a little closer to the mirror to see better, dress rising up a bit to reveal a bit of your butt.
snapping out of his imagination, tom stands behind you, snaking both his arms around your waist under your shirt, his arms warm. you feel yourself feeling a little hot and panic a bit as you’re in public. trying to escape the grip from him but to not cause a scene in the shop as you almost drop the dress on the floor doing so. he laughs at your attempts to get him off you and kisses your cheek quickly.
you grin at him, what is he doing? tom finally loosens his grip on you as he snatches the dress you were once holding and runs towards the cash, “hey—! what changed your mind?” you ask following behind him as you have a hold on his sweater like a pet-owner trying to control their dog. he stops in his tracks to look at you while the cashier rings up the dress.
tom brings both of his hands to each side of your waist, caressing it a bit while you simply just allow him. his touch is so familiar and comforting you cannot help but not stop him. did the both of you forget that you were in public? “hello? tom? you didn’t answer my question,” crossing your arms as he stops the movement of his hands now just staring at you and smiling brightly.
“wear that dress tonight, i can fight.”
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