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abbysslvt · 4 months

Note

idk if this is too vague, but arthur/f!reader in the classic trope of, oh my god I can't believe we both almost just died sex? did they both almost drown? Was there a fire? did he save her life? who knows! i feel like arthur would sees the woman he loves almost die and immediately fuck about it

Okay this has been in my asks for WAY too long and it’s such a good one and I wanted to do it justice.

Left Unsaid

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

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

When he think's he's almost lost you in a run-in with a rival gang, Arthur quickly gets over his nervousness in approaching you.

The bloodcurdling scream jolts him from sleep, making him stumble up from where he was sitting on a rickety chair in the main room of the old cabin. At first, he thinks it's a dream, but when the sound of breaking glass pierces the night, Arthur shoots up; the chair falling to the ground in a clatter as he quickly shakes the vestiges of sleep from his mind.

This abandoned cabin off of Eris Field seemed the perfect place to spend the night instead of making the trek all the way back to Shady Belle tonight - your yawning from behind him on his horse had him chuckling as he made the decision to stay - doing the gentlemanly thing and giving you the bedroom with the old single bed. As much as he’d like to be sharing it with you - he remained externally aloof - proclaiming that he’d sleep on the chair in the main room. He certainly did not dare to ask to share your bed - not now, probably not ever.

But the rustling and thumping behind the door where you sleep has his heart racing - his hand flies to his revolver as he readies himself to throw his shoulder into the door and shoot whatever it is that is making that noise, but the door bursts open before he gets the chance.

A man stands on the threshold - dirty, and grimy, with a faded gray woolen military uniform and a yellow bandana around his neck.

Of course, goddamn Lemoyne Raiders.

The raider holds up his knife in front of him, and in the din of movement and chaos around them, Arthur can see the liquid sheen over the steel in the man’s hand.

The knife, dripping with blood. The man, seemingly unharmed. The door, slightly ajar, to the bedroom where you slept.

A cold stone settles in Arthur’s gut as he puts the pieces together. In an instant, he snarls, diving toward the man with little regard for his own person, tackling him to the ground and ready to rip him apart with his bare hands for what he’s done to you. As Arthur mounts himself on the man’s chest and begins to strangle him, the movement knocks the oil lantern off the table, crashing to the wooden floor and immediately bursting into flame.

The man’s neck snaps between Arthur’s hands and he immediately leaps up, moving toward the bedroom where you were sleeping.

Another body crashes into him, a Lemoyne Raider dressed like he is straight out of a Civil War battle tackles Arthur to the ground, the two of them tumbling along the floor and breaking through the rickety door to the porch. Arthur rolls backward, unsheathing his hunting knife as he grits his teeth, ready to slice this damn bastard into shreds.

Of course, the wannabe soldier is no match for the hardened outlaw. They sure as hell don’t make them like they used to. Arthur easily dodges a swing of the man’s fist and throws his weight forward. He sinks his knife into the raider’s gut, and immediately shoves him to the ground. He gurgles blood from his mouth as Arthur rushes over him, back toward the house.

The flames burst out the windows as he barrels back toward the door, grabbing at the handle and cursing aloud as it burns him.

The constriction in his chest has settled into a churning in his gut as he prepared to kick the door in. At this point would he be finding your charred, lifeless body, having bled out on the floor because he couldn’t protect you?

“Arthur-!”

He steps off the porch, not sure if he is lightheaded or hallucinating, but you move toward him, hitching your skirts, blood covering your blouse, your hair wild.

“Jesus-” He crashes into you, having nearly leaped the final few steps, crushing you into his chest, nearly causing you to stumble.

He yanks you back, large hands on your shoulders, and looks you up and down, eyeing the blood patch on your blouse.

“N-not mine.” You breathe, but he does not move his hand from your ribcage. It presses inward, against the wet cotton, splaying across your side as if he did not believe you, checking for where the knife would have marred your flesh.

“Arthur-” You whisper, your hands tight on his biceps, “I’m alright.”

His eyes dart back up to yours, searching, pupils dilated, breathing heavily.

“Ar-”

You’re cut off completely as he pulls you against him and presses his lips desperately against yours, muffling your surprised yelp as his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. After a moment of shock, you melt into his embrace, fingers tightening on his shirt sleeves as you open your mouth to him.

He kisses you like you are the air he breathes. Like you are some kind of salvation… like he thought he almost lost something.

Arthur pulls back, breathing heavily, a flush having taken over his face, “Christ-” he goes to unwind his arms from you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

It’s his turn to be cut off as your hands immediately travel to the collar of his shirt and you pull him down to your lips to kiss him again, needy as you moan into his mouth.

His arms immediately recircle you, hands moving down from your ribs, down, down to your waist, your hips, your rear. Hooking his arms around the back of your thighs, you’re lifted up, squealing in surprise into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Continuing to press into each other's mouths, you barely notice him walking the two of you back, further from the flaming cabin, into the woodline, and finally against a tree trunk a safe distance away. He pulls back, panting as you recline against it, his arms tight under your thighs.

He gazes upon your kiss-swollen lips; your heaving chest as you breathe heavily, your pupils blown wide in arousal. Arthur takes the opportunity to roll his hips once, his hardening cock pressing against your cunt, and your eyes flutter closed as a needy, breathy whine escapes your lips.

“Arthur-”

He does it again, maybe for his sake as much as your own, the blood rushing to his groin and filling his cock properly. He grits his teeth as the rolling becomes rutting, your gasps driving him insane.

Before he gets to the point of no return, he slows his hips and leans over to recapture your lips in another kiss. As he pulls his

“Thinkin’ you was dead back there-” He pushes his lips to yours again, “Christ- I… I never told you-”

One of his hands leaves your thighs, but you have no fear he’s going to drop you. He buries it in layers of cotton, pulling at your skirts to move them from his way, reaching your bloomers and pressing against your cunt, watching your face intently as you moan, the cotton separating you quickly dampening against his fingers.

He leans in again and groans against your neck. Grabbing the cotton tightly, he yanks until he feels the seams give way, the tearing sound ringing in his ears as he delves within the ruined fabric to your soaking folds. You jolt against him and whine loudly as he slides his fingers along the seam of your body.

Arthur covers your mouth with his own as he sinks his fingers into you, working you open as you clutch desperately at his shoulders.

After you’ve cried out several times in the night, his hand leaves you and you sigh at the loss, he shushes you gently as he works at the buttons of his trousers, finally freeing his cock from his pants after moments of fiddling. His hand returns to your thigh as he adjusts you in his arms. The head of his cock presses gently against the rim of your cunt.

Your hands move from his shoulders to cup his face, your thumb tracing his lower lip gently before he sucks the tip into his mouth, his eyes trained on yours.

He pulses his hips and his cockhead slips inside you. Your brows crinkle with the first vestiges of the ache of penetration, and he leans forward again to press his lips upon your forehead.

“What did you never tell me?” You whisper as he holds you on the cusp of joining, the precipice of sheathing himself into you.

One of his hands leaves your thigh, though you are completely unafraid of falling with your legs wrapped around him and the strength of his other arm. His fingers brush back a strand of your hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear before his rough and calloused palm rests on your cheek.

“You’d have died and I woulda never told you I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock as you clutch at him, and while you remain silent, after a moment, you pull him closer with your legs, nudging his back with your ankles, and he slowly slides himself inside you, inch by inch, until your hips touch and you mewl with the stretch. He hums softly before slowly, gently, rocking his hips, starting a slow rhythm as you get used to him.

His powerful arms keep you suspended against the tree trunk with each roll of his hips, each glide of the inches of him in and out of you, well glossed and hot with your slick.

Arthur’s lips press to yours incessantly, muffling your gasps and whines as he presses into you. After one particularly deep thrust, you throw your head back in ecstasy, bumping against the trunk of the tree.

“Careful there, darlin’,” Arthur slows his hips, and tightening his grip on your thighs, he pulls you away from the tree, you yelp and tighten your legs around his hips. He chuckles softly as he walks you, still joined, a few steps from the tree and slowly lowers the both of you to the ground on a patch of grass. Spreading himself out over you, he buries his head against your neck as he lets go of your thighs, his forearms on either side of your shoulders, rocking his hips into yours again.

The staccato whine of the syllables of his name escapes you as you hook your ankles around each other over his back. Carding your hands through his hair, your fingers interweave between his honeyed strands, his hat long gone in your desperation to join yourselves.

He presses himself up above you as his thrusts become more erratic, his breathing loud and heavy as he pounds you into the ground.

“God-” you cry out as your hands grasp his shirt, “Arthur, yes-”

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, looming over you as he careens toward completion.

You arch your back, your thighs wrapping tighter around him as you begin to babble - “Yes- Arthur… I love you too-”, another gasp as he hits that spot within you, “God - I love you so much-”

That’s it. There it is, stripped bare and bleeding out like an open wound, his heart catching in his chest at your confession, and his amazement leaves him speechless as he thrusts into you once more, holding himself as deep as he can possibly get into you, feeling you pulse and clutch around him, wailing your pleasure into the night. It’s only a moment more before he has the wherewithal to yank himself from you, in the nick of time as he spurts his seed over your cunt, dripping white into the dark curls at the joining of your legs.

He’s gasping, you’re gasping, and he groans as he settles himself to the side of you, barely able to hold himself up with the exertion. Your legs hang open as you pant, flushed from your cheeks down your neck.

One of his large hands spreads out over your chest, against your racing heart, and you turn your head toward him, breathing out through your nose as a smile graces your lips.

“Probably should get outta here before any more stragglers find us.” He says, out of breath as he removes his hand to tuck himself back into his trousers. You nod and sit up, pulling your skirts down over your legs.

“D’ya think…” you trail off as you watch him rebutton his pants before he pushes himself to stand. His hair is ridiculously ruffled from the amount of times you've run your fingers through it.

“Mm?” He holds out his hand to you to help you up.

You take it, and he pulls you up into his embrace, his hand secure on your lower back.

“Was wondering if we could spend the rest of the night in Rhodes or somewhere instead of heading all the way back to camp…” You ask as you lay a hand on his chest.

He squeezes you closer to him.

“Sounds mighty nice… certainly wouldn't mind a stay in a hotel room tonight.”

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abbysslvt · 4 months

Text

Abstinence

Forbidden love with a happy ending. This has not been proof read in its entirety!

rating: nsfw ending / word count: 11k / fem reader

"No!" Hosea scolded for the last time that afternoon, putting an end to your quarrel. A quarrel that had taken place time and time again, on the subject of you and Arthur.

You'd fallen hard for the outlaw, for his rugged charm and quick wit. But also for the simpler things, like the way his golden hair fell in his face while he scribbled in his journal, or the little scar on his chin you'd always wondered but never pried about how he'd obtained. He'd fallen for you too, albeit very slowly, but surely.

He loved the calm you brought upon him whenever he was in your company, and the little butterflies he felt when you shared a glance from across camp; something he was almost sure he would never have the privilege of feeling again.

Something he'd told himself he'd never allow himself to feel again.

He'd found over the years of living together that you completed him, as much as it scared him to admit. At first he believed it to be simply a wonderful friendship with the way you clicked so well, the way you'd wait up for him into the late hours of the night, refusing to sleep until he returned safe from his travels, and the conversations you'd have into the early hours of the morning as a result. But it didn't take long for him to realize that you did that out of love; a love above one shared between close friends. And it didn't take him too long after that to understand that, despite the idea making his stomach twist, deep down he wanted to be more to you too. It just took him a long time to admit it to himself.

You complemented eachother perfectly. Where Arthur lacked in confidence you were there to pick him and his spirits right back up, and where you lacked in experience he was there to show you the right way. It was a match made in heaven, as the saying goes, but for your father Hosea, it was the last thing he ever wanted to be informed of. That his daughter was sweet on an outlaw. He wanted better for you than a life of crime, for he'd raised you better, or at least he'd sure tried to after Bessie's passing.

He wanted you to eventually leave the gang and make a life for yourself, where you wouldn't have to live in constant fear of having possibly everything you knew and loved taken away from you in an instant because of your ties.

But here you were, despite his warnings, still swooning over the very outlaw he'd tried to forbid you months ago from being anything other than friends with. The very outlaw who would hold you back and keep you in this dangerous way of life. Who would sully your name were you to be exposed with him to the outside world. The very outlaw who could cost you your future, or even your life.

"I can't let you just throw your life away!" Hosea turned his back to you and the table that separated you in the dusty Shady Belle room, his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. "And by being with Arthur, you're doing just that."

You turned your nose up at his comment while his back was turned. He'd had the first talk with you about Arthur around three months ago, and for three months you'd continued to pursue the outlaw despite Hosea's disapproval, continued to learn about him, and you only loved him more for doing so.

"It's our own fault that we're here. We know that." He turned back to you with a sigh. "Yes you were born to outlaws, and yes, this way of life is the only one you've ever known," he paused, "but that doesn't mean that you have to follow in our footsteps and make the same stupid mistakes that we did to get ourselves here." He huffed, his blood starting to heat ever so slightly. "Is this the life you want? Constantly looking over your shoulder? Constantly in fear of the ones you love being captured or hurt? Because you're headed straight down that path."

You pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down quietly, studying his face for a few seconds before you spoke up.

"That's precisely it, Pa. This is all I've known for all my years, so why would I want to leave behind the only routine, and the only people that I know?" Your voice grew quieter as the emotions started to rise. "I know you think that sending me away is what's best, but doing so nowadays is as good as throwing me in jail yourself. We may think that the law doesn't know my name, that they don't know my face or the people I'm tied to," you leaned backwards against the chair, a sigh escaping you. "But we've been wrong before, Pa. Oh, so wrong. We're too large a gang nowadays, and too conspicuous. They have an eye a lot closer on us than we think."

Hosea sighed back, knowing the point you made was uncomfortably true.

"This is where I belong, with or without Arthur." You tried a smile. "If you want me safe, keep me here, under the protection of those who care." Hosea pulled out a chair himself and sat, propping his elbows on the table, head in his hands now. "I just don't want you to spend the rest of your life like this, (y/n), because we're not living. We're surviving, and I want more for you than just surviving."

You dropped your eyes to the floor. You didn't truly understand the privilege that you had, the privilege of living over surviving. Your entire life you'd been tucked away safe and sheltered from the outside world, so that if the day came where you did want to leave, you'd have a better chance at going unrecognized.

But your father's comment had you perplexed. The only thoughts that most of your family had were about food, or ammo and protection, and those thoughts were so far from your own. Your mind was consumed with all things positive; joy, love, support, the list could go on. To you, you were living. Having such a beautiful relationship with Arthur made you feel that the life you lead was so much more than just the dangers and the worries the gang were faced with.

But of course, you weren't the one hunting. You weren't the one searching for leads and coming home with either a big bag of cash or on a mediocre day a few bullet wounds. You dreaded to imagine a bad day. You'd had everything that you needed delivered to camp and around the clock protection. You just didn't understand the privilege.

But your life was exciting with Arthur and you didn't want to change that for the dangers of being alone in the outside world. You had no idea what it was like to be part of society, part of those who actually followed the rules. Just like you had no idea whether the Pinkertons were watching and would take the first opportunity they had to grab you and take you in for questioning. That was, if they didn't just hang you that same day in an attempt to intimidate the gang into turning themselves in.

You'd much rather face the dangers as part of the gang, and you'd much rather face them with Arthur at your side. You just didn't see things the way your father did. And sadly, he didn't see them your way either.

"I'll just never forgive myself if you end up like us," Hosea spoke softly now, leaning back with a shake of his head, almost as though he was in denial about the fact that you already had. "Arthur will never change. He'll never get out. And seeing him is a sure fire way of ending up stuck like us. Like us, or worse," he rubbed a hand over his face in despair.

"You could end up six feet under."

"I could end up suspended six feet off the ground if you send me out there, too. And if I'm to die, I'd much rather do it here." You were well aware of the risks that came with being with Arthur, but they were no scarier than those presented by society. You never asked to go out on jobs, you never put yourself in the line of fire. If you did you'd understand and maybe appreciate your father's lectures more, but the risks truly felt as though they'd never happen to you, and if they did, at least you'd go happy.

"Listen, your mother," Hosea paused again, longer this time. "Bringing her into my world was the biggest mistake of my life, and I'd give anything to go back, to stay away from all of this for good."

You didn't really remember Bessie. She'd passed when you were young; wrong place at the wrong time. A bullet not meant for her, but for Hosea who afterwards was drunk for a year, or so you'd been told a few times. Your memories were truly hazy, but maybe that was due to the fact that Ms Grimshaw had stepped up and raised you for that year Hosea was unable to. She'd been the mother figure you were robbed of and protected you from the outside world. Or maybe your mind had just erased those memories, to keep you safe from the trauma.

Hosea reached for your hand, which you gently placed in his with a feeble, empathetic smile. "Arthur knew Bessie," he looked at your hand in his, before returning to your glistening eyes. "I'd like to think that he understands the risk of loving someone when in his line of work. To think he'd be responsible enough to put some distance between the two of you, before something inevitably happens to one of you."

Hosea released your hand after a moment's silence and stood, asking you with a flick of his head to follow. He guided you towards the front door of the manor; you both needed some air now, as heavy and humid as it was in Lemoyne. "I buried Bessie," he spoke, with a tinge of emotion in his voice he tried his best to keep at bay. "I'll be damned if I'm to bury my own daughter too."

You sniffled, the thought of your father going through so much pain, pained you.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," you took a deep breath of air as you stood on the front steps of the manor. "But if it does, at least you'll have some closure when burying Arthur, too."

Hosea chuckled slightly, but his stern look swiftly returned. "There is no 'let's hope', my dear." He sighed. "I can't have you seeing Arthur and that's just that. After all this, after your mother, I was hoping you'd see that clearly."

Your stomach flipped, you thought you'd somehow managed to evade the subject or even change his mind. Alas, Hosea's only goal was to persuade you to part ways with Arthur, and he'd just circled back to it. "I've nothing against Arthur." Hosea looked at you with compassion. "I've known him just as long as I've known you, and he's about as good as it gets, I'll admit." He took a step down, giving you some space. "But he's just not worth the risk of you losing your life, or me losing the best part of mine."

You were lost for any civil words. Those that sprung to mind were far too angry. Of all the talks you'd had, you felt as thought this one might've been the one to sway Hosea.

But of course not.

You felt betrayed, but you weren't about to make a scene for everyone at camp. You didn't reply, and Hosea knew of everything that you were hiding behind your silence. "For your mother's sake," he tried a final time to get his point across, though only adding extra salt to the wound, "make the right choice."

He stepped away and headed for Dutch's tent, probably to relay to him that you believed you were all being closely watched by the law. No doubt Dutch would have some sort of feeling about that, and would surely make life a little difficult for you one way or another for having so little faith in him. Probably what you deserved anyway in the eyes of your father, for making such a wrong call and continuing to see Arthur. And if you were occupied with jobs all day, you'd be too tired to wait up into the night for him. He probably hoped that if he broke your routine, eventually you'd grow apart.

But despite your anger, your heart broke a little at the thought of him not knowing that you'd already chosen to betray his wishes, and you always would. He only had your best interests at heart.

You'd been raised to be trustworthy, and in a gang that was built on trust, you did your best to respect it. So, maybe ending your relationship with Arthur was on the cards after all.

With a deep, anxious sigh, you stepped down into the courtyard and headed over to the gazebo where you'd left a book earlier that day. You rubbed your face as you sat down and kept your hands there momentarily, so many thoughts and feelings rushing through your mind. You looked over the swamps at the alligators that just breached the water's surface. At this very moment in time, you almost wished to fling yourself in.

It was late evening by the time Arthur returned, tired from his travels but never too tired to find you.

You'd moved from the cold concrete of the gazebo to the warmth of the main campfire. John was there to keep you company, whittling what you weren't quite sure. The thin wood shavings floated down into the fire, some barely even touching it before they caught alight and flickered back up into the night sky. Javier was there too, strumming quietly on his guitar, but no singing tonight.

"It's so late," you remarked as Arthur came to sit beside you, "I was starting to worry."

"You needn't worry about me darlin," he smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on your knee under which your muscle tensed and you all but pulled away.

His eyes were nothing short of confused, concerned even, and yours told him that maybe he in turn did have something to worry about. "I'd like to talk to you," you hummed, trying not to make it sounds like it was one of those talks in front of the other boys. "I spoke with my father again today but, we'll do this later, with a little more privacy."

Arthur only nodded, lost for words for what you'd sprung upon him. It certainly wasn't what he wanted to hear after a long day away from you.

"Now, you must be starving," you jumped to your feet with the aim to change the mood. "Let me get you some food, then you can tell us all about what kept you away from us for so long." He nodded again, only this time he managed an "of course."

After a good bowl of stew and stories of his travels between the sweet melodies of Javier's guitar, you wished both him and John goodnight before you stepped away with Arthur. You led him back to the gazebo, where you sat him down on the now rather cold cut out bench with you and took in the song of the bayou by night, before breaking the news.

Of course, Arthur was no stranger to these talks your father had been having with you. They'd happened at least once a month since you'd announced your relationship a few months ago. He was no stranger to the feeling of inferiority in the eyes of his in-laws. But to feel it coming from Hosea? He'd be lying if that didn't hurt him a little more than it had with others before him.

"So," he started, hesitation in his voice. "What is it this time?"

You shrugged and turned to him, a hand on his forearm now. "The same as it's always been, Arthur," you sighed. "He just doesn't agree with us being an item. He thinks you're putting my life in danger. Or, more so than it already is."

Arthur respected Hosea, respected his decisions and choices, always had. He understood the reasons for Hosea's disapproval. And despite always having been loyal to Hosea, parting ways with you was one request that Arthur just wouldn't fulfill. He hadn't felt love both from him and for him in what felt like an eternity, and he'd be an absolute fool to let that go.

"So what are we to do?" He paused, studying your face for any sort of answer. There was a moment of silence, though not uncomfortable. It was more a moment to think over your next words.

"I've been going over this for a while," you started, "ever since our first talks really, both with my father and you. At first I thought, maybe he was right. Maybe we should end it before it went too far, before we got too involved and one of us got hurt."

You let out a somber sigh, squeezing his forearm as he came to rest his hand on yours. "But I've grown far too close to you to ruin what could one day be something truly beautiful. A little house with some livestock. A family of our own, with none of the fears we live with now. That's something I want with you, Arthur. I picture it so vividly."

Arthur smiled shyly at your comment. The feeling was mutual, of course, but he knew that the gang would never truly stop running in a world that was hunting down their kind. He knew that if he one day had the opportunity to whisk you away and try for a fresh start in a new place, you'd still be hunted.

In the changing world, outlaw dreams like these were only ever to be just that; dreams.

"Well," he spoke quietly, moving his hand to cup your cheek. "You do paint quite the picture, and I sure ain't gonna just let the chance of having that slip away." His thumb caressed your skin, a flicker of sadness in his heart both at your naïveté and that he'd gone along with your fantasy. He just didn't have the heart to ruin it.

"Unless o' course, for Hosea's sake you want me to." He moved back to his original spot. "You and your feelings mean more to me than any other 'round here."

You tutted, your brow slightly furrowed at him. "No, Arthur. Listen." You took a quick look over to Dutch's tent where Hosea sat, chatting away. A quiet sigh escaped you.

"I hate to go behind my father's back, Arthur, I really do. And this sounds like something out of one of those silly romance novels I have but.. that's because it is. It's my last resort."

You expected Arthur to laugh, but he didn't.

"In the one I'm reading, I can't help but see.. us." You met his gaze before dropping it to your hands. "Star-crossed lovers, who meet every night beneath the tallest tree that shelters them from prying eyes. And while I don't think that we should play it out word for word, I do think that we should take a page out of their book, so to speak."

Arthur dropped his eyes to your hand, small and delicate against his forearm. "Keep us a secret?" He all but whispered.

You nodded, bringing his eyes back to yours. Arthur knew that you hated going against the rules, and even more so lying and manipulating an unfortunate soul to get your way. But this act only showed that you were in it for the long run, and after past relationships he'd had, a little reassurance about that went a long way.

"We go about our days as usual, only we limit our interactions, act a little sad, or avoidant, even. By night we'll meet up somewhere. Spend our evenings as we usually do, just, after everyone has turned in. Or at the very least my father, and Dutch." You smiled softly. "We both know that the others don't have a problem, nor will they care to relay what we're doing."

Arthur hummed in agreement, a slight chuckle escaping him. "Most probably won't even notice a change. They all have their own problems to worry about."

You smiled in return, he was right.

"So, how will I know where to find you?" He almost tilted his head. You chuckled, now it really did sound like those forbidden love novels you read.

"We haven't been forbidden to be in eachother's company." You took his hand in yours, your thumb tracing gently over a small new wound he'd acquired from his last outing. "The way I see it, we can still be around eachother, and we can still talk. But we have to seem distant from eachother. At least for a few days. And I'll be distant from my father, too. Hopefully sooner than later he'll come around. I hate that I'll be hurting him, but, I know that he won't be able to live with his daughter giving him the cold shoulder. It's the only way."

Arthur sighed, wishing that you didn't have to do such a thing. Hosea knew that he was good, that he'd let no harm come to you. He could let you both at least try before outright forbidding it. It all felt so strange, like Hosea was trying to reduce the two of you to mere children, incapable of looking after yourselves. It didn't help that you were going to be sneaking around like teenagers now, either.

"Alright," he mumbled, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

"I know it's not ideal," you smiled understandingly. "Frankly it makes me feel a little silly too. But I'd rather do this for a few days and have my father come around to the idea of us, instead of him continuing to disapprove and us being in this uncomfortable situation for the foreseeable."

Arthur only hummed, but it was all you needed.

"Now we should turn in, you must be exhausted." He nodded, a yawn creeping up on him at the mention of sleep. "I am."

You both rose to your feet, your fingers now intertwined for what felt like would be the last time in a long while, before making your way down the gazebo steps under the cover of darkness.

You said your goodnights and shared a tender kiss, before heading to your respective rooms as you always did. You'd never shared a room with Arthur, nor a tent. Not even a bed in the time you'd been together. You felt bad enough for just being with him against your father's wishes, but to be intimate with him on top of everything? Now that felt like a step too far.

Of course, you wanted to be. You both did. But Arthur understood, you didn't want to go that far until you got your father's blessing. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to be physical until getting a blessing either. He respected Hosea just too much to do such a thing.

And besides, when that day came it would only make it all the more special.

You rose early the next morning. You wanted to get out and away from everyone, to give an air of sorrow.

Arthur was already gone, his horse the only one missing from camp at such an hour. Oh how you wished he'd calm down, settle a bit. He'd sure earned a break for all the years of work he'd done. Hell, there were so many other men in camp who could give him a day's rest, but you knew he wasn't able to without receiving an earful from Dutch.

You sighed as you made your way to the little cabin a short walk from the manor. You didn't want to go further than screaming distance for the many gators that called the swamps home, but it was far enough to hear no noise from camp.

You'd brought that one book with you, one of your favorite things to do was read the hours away, and what better way to fill the necessary lack of socialization for effect and lack of attention from Arthur than by picking up where you'd left off on the star-crossed lovers. You sat on the river side of the cabin with your back up against the wall, hidden from the first morning rays. The air was already humid enough to keep you at a nice temperature.

With the warmth awoke the smaller creatures like the frogs and toads. You heard them jumping into the murky water here and there, escaping the hungry eyes of the early rising birds.

With a deep intake of the heavy air, you opened your book to the chapter you'd left on, but kept a wary eye on the riverbank, just in case a gator had you on its breakfast menu.

Before you knew it an hour had passed, maybe even two, and you were brought back to reality when you turned your gaze to see none other than Hosea, making his way over to you. "I thought that I'd find you here," he greeted gently, not too sure how you'd ended things with Arthur, if you had at all, and therefore how to approach the situation.

"Good morning," you turned your attention back to your book and your finger on the line you'd last read.

"I brought you coffee," Hosea cooed, extending his arm down to you. "Oh," you tried a smile, "thank you."

Hosea wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but you being so quiet and distant from him wasn't it. He hated your silence more than anything. To him, having you kicking and screaming would be preferable. At least then he'd be able to just hold you for consolation. But this was something he wasn't sure how to tackle.

He'd never wanted to hurt you or break the bond you shared, but he was starting to feel like maybe he'd done just that, only by trying to keep you safe.

"I came to talk," he started, standing a little way off from where you sat. "I know that it isn't what you wanted," he paused with a sigh, "and truthfully it's not what I wanted, either. What I want is for my family to be happy. Safe, and happy. But I just don't see any way for you to be both if you're romantically involved with Arthur."

Silence fell upon you, your unwillingness to respond and the lack of knowing what to say on Hosea's part made it rather awkward.

"But I can tell that my peace offering wasn't as effective as I was hoping," he shrugged, "so I won't bother you any further." His voice was quiet, upset. "Just, please don't hold it against me for wanting you safe above all else. It's a father's duty, and I owe it to your mother."

The last part struck a nerve, and your eyes teared up in pure guilt as he walked away. You weren't sure if you were going to be able to go through with this, outright lying to your father and giving him the silent treatment. You shook the thought off and returned to your book, listening to Hosea's steps as they trailed further and further away with the urge to call out to him and tell the truth.

You spent another hour reading and taking sips of your coffee, trying your best to keep your mind away from the wrong you were doing, but you could only read so much and needed a change of scenery. You headed back towards camp without the usual spring in your step, and made your way to the other girls who'd only just risen.

"Morning," you smiled feebly, walking straight past them and grabbing a few clothes that needed repairs.

"What's got you so glum?" Karen questioned through a yawn as she tried to resist having just five more minutes of shut-eye. "Oh, nothing," you shrugged, sitting beside them on their wooden pallet to get started on patching. "I just didn't sleep too well, too much on my mind." The girls shared your feelings, they'd all been struggling to sleep since the move to Shady Belle, but you could tell they weren't quite buying that a lack of sleep was the only reason for your melancholy.

You tutted at them, they'd grown too good at reading you.

"It's just the same old story, I won't bore you with it again." You tried a chuckle.

The girls had heard this all before, and each time it'd ended up the same; you stayed together and defied your father, so they were sure this wouldn't be any different.

Karen chuckled and went to stand up. "If you ask me, you're old enough now to make your own decisions. None of us had our parents around to tell us right from wrong but we all turned out great."

You sighed through a smile as you moved to the next tear that needed patching.

"I know," you spoke quietly, taking a break from your sewing, your hand falling to your lap. "I'm not a child anymore, and my father knows that. I think it's something he just doesn't want to come to terms with."

The girls just listened, wondering whether what you were going to say next was what they were hoping for. "So he's getting the silent treatment until he comes around. Until he realizes that it's better for him to have me with Arthur than not have me at all."

And it was.

They hated seeing you upset over this, over something that shouldn't be under anyone else's control, and they were glad that you were finally putting your foot down.

"And?" Tilly drawled, wrapping her fingers around her first cup of coffee. "And, well," you lowered your voice, "we've.. faked a split. An act, until my father comes to his senses. We're going to meet only by night, for now."

The girls all smiled, of course you would meet in secret.

"Oh," Mary-Beth sighed longingly, "secret midnight rendez-vous? You only read of those in books."

You chuckled, placing your first finished garment to the side. "Please keep your voices down, my father can't know about this. It would break his heart beyond repair."

You got a nod from all of them before they went about their mornings as usual, only to eventually join you back for a little group sewing. But you didn't have much more to do yourself, so you were quite happy just keeping them company and listening to all the new gossip.

The rest of your day consisted of avoiding others, more reading, cursing the bayou for it's sweltering humidity, and waiting for Arthur to return to camp and spend as much time with you under the cover of night as you felt you could.

The next few days were exactly the same; avoiding, reading, cursing, and more waiting for the cover of evening to spend some time with your beloved.

As the days passed your father tried to talk to you. He tried to repair the bond he now was sure he'd broken for good, but it seemed all in vain. You were truly too heartbroken to want to talk to him and it was all his fault, or so you made it seem to keep up your little charade.

You were sat with Arthur on yet another warm night, behind the cabin where you'd found yourself a few days ago, hidden from prying eyes.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Arthur drawled, cigarette between his lips. You sighed deeply, wondering whether the time had come for a change of plan.

Humming quietly, you placed a hand on his thigh. "We shouldn't keep doing this. My silence is hurting my father too much. He doesn't deserve this treatment, no matter what his views on us are." You paused for a moment, your heart heavy. "I've been eating less, my sleep is worse than usual, and it's all because of this.. game we're playing."

You folded the corner of the page you were reading and closed your book gently. "And if I may be honest, being confined to a hiding spot together for an hour or two a night isn't how I want to spend my time with you."

Arthur looked over at you with concern, not sure whether this was breakup talk or not.

"I want to be free to be with you wherever I want, and in the presence of whoever I want," you squeezed his thigh reassuringly. "So I say that tomorrow we confront my father. Tell him it's us together, or neither of us at all. I know he's having a hard time now that him and I aren't speaking, and as terrible as I feel to use that against him, I think it's better than continuing this awful lie."

Arthur took a drag, holding the smoke for only a moment before letting it escape him. "You know I ain't too good at talking to in-laws."

You chuckled quietly, moving your hand back to your own lap. "You've known Hosea for far too long to see him as a real threat, Arthur. And I think I'll have more of a chance of success if you're there with me."

Arthur didn't reply, it was as though he was lost in thoughts of his past. Just Mary and the disapproval from her father all over again.

"He isn't like that," you turned to him and settled on your knees, taking his face in your hands. "You know he isn't. You know my father won't be unkind to you. He loves you. He just disapproves of our lifestyle, and at the moment there's nothing we can do to change that. So," you rubbed a thumb tenderly over his cheek, "he either has to accept that, or accept that his only daughter and the man he's counted on for two decades won't speak to him again."

Arthur knew you were right, but he was still hesitant. He'd heard similar to this before and it hadn't gone well that time.

"Why don't you sleep on it?" You smiled softly. "Just, please let me know in the morning, before you set off."

He hummed as you planted a tender kiss on his forehead, a move you knew would sway him if your words hadn't already. "I'll see you bright and early then. Goodnight, Arthur."

You rose to your feet with a tired groan, now looking forward to sleep and the new day.

"G'night darlin," he cooed, taking another drag and a long, uneasy exhale as he released the smoke into the night. With that you returned to your room and settled down to rest, only closing your eyes and fully relaxing once you heard him walk by to his own, just a few minutes behind.

You scrunched your nose up at the first morning rays coming through the cracked glass of your room's windows, your skin tingling at the newly found warmth.

It'd been a while since you'd slept well, and last night was no exception. You cleared your throat and turned over, using your shoulder to block as much light as you could. It was just too early for you to feel like socializing, and either way you had to wait for Arthur. You hoped he'd show.

You turned over as you came to again, an hour or so later you assumed, not opening your eyes for the nap you'd just taken had made them more stingy and sensitive to light than they had been the first time you opened them. You lied there on your side for a while, listening to the quiet sounds of the wildlife around you and the clattering of mugs and Pearson's pots and pans as camp started to wake up, too.

Turning over again, your cot rather uncomfortable this morning, you clocked the sound of footsteps and the jingle of spurs making their way across the landing that separated the rooms. The gait was all too familiar to you, and you greeted Arthur with a sleepy smile as he quietly entered your door.

"I was hoping not to disturb you," he mumbled, closing it behind himself and standing there momentarily.

"You didn't wake me," you hummed and settled back down onto your side as you watched him sleepily with one eye, barely open. He made his way to the chair not too far from your bed, and his hat came off and rested in his lap as he sat down and gathered his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes slowly took in every inch of your body as the morning rays danced across your skin. It wasn't his first time seeing you in so little clothing, but to anyone who could sense his heartbeat they'd sure think it was. Though, behind the tinge of desire that was cause of his raised heart rate, he was more in awe at the woman who lay before him. He still couldn't quite believe that someone so beautiful had actually chosen him. You looked so perfect, so peaceful.

"I'll be back early afternoon," he spoke softly, shifting in his seat with the same unease as he had the night before.

"Thank you, Arthur." You smiled through a relieved sigh, sleep starting to creep up on you again now that the anxiety had shifted.

He hummed and you heard him stand and take a step towards you. His fingers carefully graced your skin, brushing the hair from your temple to make way for a tender kiss he left in its place.

"Be safe," you spoke sleepily, only just above a whisper.

"I always am," you could hear his soft smile through his tone. "You get some more rest now."

He gave one last gentle caress to your temple before he moved to pull your blanket up over your legs. It wasn't cold, it never was in the bayou. It was more to prevent others from somehow seeing you. This view, the few clothes you wore, were for his eyes only, and he'd be damned if he were to let prying eyes see more of you before he'd had the privilege of doing so himself.

Arthur returned in the early afternoon just as he'd promised you he would.

You'd had a knot in your stomach ever since you'd actually got up; you hadn't been able to eat any breakfast or do much patching for the shaking of your hands, and you linked it to the anxiety at the thought of him maybe deciding not to show after all.

You knew he'd never betray you in such a way, you knew he'd never lie. But seeing his horse walk back into camp immediately untied the knot and loosened any tension you'd been stuck with for the last six hours or so.

You felt a little bad for doubting him.

His first thought after turning his horse out to graze was you. You could see him from where you sat, alongside the cabin with a book as usual. You'd made your way there after you'd had to take a break from chores due to the shaking, and you'd been sat there for longer than you realized.

He eyes searched for you while he walked down the path into the courtyard, his entire body relaxing when he noticed you at your usual spot. But with a slight wave in your direction, he turned towards Dutch's tent with a sense of urgency.

You knew he'd been out looking for leads this morning, as he did pretty much every morning, but his demeanor was different than usual which only caused the knot in your stomach to return. You truly hoped that he only had good news; perhaps rich pickings to be had from a nearby O'Driscoll camp, or a legendary animal whose hide or pelt would sell for a pretty penny. You'd heard talk of an alligator at least two wagons long in length, with white scales that shone brightly in the moonlight. You were sure something like that could bring in some real cash, and probably feed camp for weeks, though, the thought of eating such a creature made you feel a little queasy.

It probably wasn't even real anyway, but dwelling on that thought made you stand and back away from the water.

Arthur soon made his way over to you with less urgency in his step now, cigarette between his lips and a soft smile to go with it. "You're in a good mood," you chuckled as he came to a halt beside you, swiping a match across the sole of his boot and leaning his shoulder against the cabin for a first drag. "How was your ride out?"

"Not too bad," he took a drag from his newly lit cigarette, "got wind of a score."

"A score?" You almost gasped, it was certainly more than you were expecting. "What kind of score?" Arthur just shrugged nonchalantly, clearly proud of himself for finding the information but trying to play it cool. "A riverboat," he took another drag, "a poker game, on a riverboat."

Your heart sank twice as much as it'd jumped at his first announcement.

"A riverboat? Oh, Arthur," you sighed, clutching your book to your chest. "Wasn't Blackwater lesson enough?" Arthur just shrugged again and took another drag, offering the cigarette to you which you politely declined, despite the need for a pick me up after everything you'd been through today already. And you still had the talk to deal with.

"Blackwater wasn't my idea," he grumbled, "this time we'll do it right."

You shook your head at the idea of him putting himself in so much danger, again. "But it's just word o' mouth as far as I'm concerned. Dutch and I will do some more digging over the next few days." You lacked the words for a response, looking away from him and out to the bayou for a moment. "Don't you worry yourself."

"Speaking of worry," you sighed and turned back to him. "We should talk to my father soon, before he gets too wrapped up in.. heist planning." You spoke the last words quietly, the thought of Hosea endangering himself as well as Arthur was a little much for you.

His smile all but vanished, as if he'd forgotten what he'd promised you. "I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news," you smiled apologetically. Arthur only took another drag, and after a moment spoke up.

"He'll be too busy with planning already," he started, "they had their map out before I'd even left the tent."

You sighed and shifted your weight, looking away from him again. "We can't keep making excuses, Arthur. We can't keep avoiding." You couldn't see him, but you could sense him furrowing his brows at you as he let out a quiet huff. "If this is your way of getting out of talking to him with me, then frankly I'm a little offended that you went through all this, just to avoid telling me outright." You paused, keeping your eyes on the swamp. "But, I understand."

"Now it ain't nothin' like that," he dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with the heel of his boot. "I'm just sayin' that now ain't the time to go over there. Best wait until nightfall."

You turned back, your expression tired, more mentally than physically. "Whatever you say."

The both of you sat against the cabin together for a while, you felt a lot safer being so close to the water now Arthur was there with you. You even asked him about the alligator, to which he admitted he wasn't sure was entirely true either. After a while you went back to your chores, and he went back to working around camp too, even riding out but returning not too long after. The day overall was pretty average after his return, despite the anxiety that you were still battling with.

You met for dinner around the campfire that evening, and for the first time in a few days you sat next to eachother. Of course it didn't go unnoticed by Hosea who happened to be at the fire too with his own bowl of stew. You tried your best to avoid his quizzical gaze; the complete opposite of Arthur, who seemed none the wiser to his looks.

Ignorance is bliss, you thought.

So with one final mouthful and a raise of your eyebrows in disbelief at your father's scorn, almost a week on now, you stood and left without a word. You felt so foolish for having had any empathy, throwing your bowl and spoon into the wash basin without a care about what would get splashed. Had Hosea made peace with the silence you were giving him? Had he made peace with the fact that his relationship with his own daughter was well and truly broken? It sure seemed like it, or felt like it. He was just too stubborn to accept any other outcome than the one he wanted.

While others shared food around the campfire and sang a few songs to lift their spirits, you sat alone by the cabin, once again. There was a new feeling brewing inside you. It wasn't quite anger, and it wasn't quite sadness. In fact, you weren't quite sure what it was at all. But whatever it was, it made you feel so small, so insignificant to the rest of the world now.

Arthur joined you after a while as he always did, but no words were shared.

You assumed he felt a little bad about how the day had gone, and about the fact you hadn't been able to have your talk or sort things out the way you'd wanted to.

As he lit a cigarette, you turned to look at camp, only to find that Hosea was slowly making his way over, too. You mumbled under your breath, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear before you turned away and hoped that he hadn't seen you looking.

"What was that?" Arthur spoke quietly after exhaling into the night. It took you a while to respond, a lump forming in your throat. "I think I'm about to get the final lecture."

"Cat's outta the bag," you jested, too tired of the whole situation now. "Come to shun me for lying on top of everything?" Hosea just stopped a few feet away with a slight chuckle. You felt a little uncomfortable. For the first time, he seemed to accept that the two of you were alone, together. Or at least, he hadn't immediately commented on it.

"I'm not here on account of my disapproval, my dear child." He started. "So wipe that look off your face." Again, you were startled by his tone. Was he playing you? Surely. After the looks from across the campfire, there was no way this could be anything but that. "I'm here to talk about something," he paused. "A job," he paused again, "and how I won't have the peace of mind to be able to plan this correctly if I don't make peace with you, first. I can't risk endangering everyone's lives, including yours, for some silly story that's been clouding my mind."

Maybe this heist was a blessing in disguise after all.

"Silly story?" You huffed. "And how do you intend on doing that, Pa? Because unless you've decided that I'm grown enough to make the right choice in who I love, our relationship as we knew it will just remain a thing of the past."

Hosea only sighed at your harsh words, moving closer to lean up against an old barrel.

"You know your silence hurts me more than any words possibly could," he looked down at you, "and your silence, my dear, has been louder than ever."

You rolled your eyes and gazed out at the murky waters of the swamp, only for him to continue since you'd denied him of a response. "So," he shook his head at you before looking out over the bayou himself. "After a long pondering, I feel that at the very least, I owe you an apology."

You shrugged. Of course you appreciated it, but at the same time you hated what you were hearing. He didn't need to apologize, not really. His priority was to keep you safe, and to him, in order to keep you safe, he had to keep you away from Arthur. He was just doing his job as a father.

"I let my own insecurities, my own fears get the better of me." He cleared his throat. "But my fears, the past that I'll be forever tormented by, shouldn't be reason to deny you of the future that you desire."

You let him talk, it seemed as though he had quite a bit on his chest.

"I've been a fool," he shook his head, "clouded by my fear of the past repeating itself, despite the situation being entirely different, despite you always staying safe inside camp and making the right choices. I risked losing the best part of me, and the only tie I have left to Bessie. I can't lose you, and I can't lose her, not again."

Your gaze dropped to your hands, watching as you twisted your ring around your finger in what you were sure was more anxiety.

"What are you trying to say, Pa?"

"What I'm trying to say, is that your happiness and well-being is worth more to me than you'll ever understand," he smiled softly. "I'm saying that you keeping yourself safe and out of the way doesn't make my fear any less valid," he paused, "but that I've come to understand that it's unfair of me to let it rule your life. Your life is yours to live the way that you want. I can only serve as a guide."

You looked over at Arthur, who seemed just as stunned as you at your father's words. "So," you paused for a second, not sure whether to ask, or whether to even look at him. "Is this, you giving us, your.. blessing?"

Hosea was quiet for a second, almost as though the realization that he was had taken him by surprise too.

"Well I- yes, I suppose I am."

You let out a sharp breath in disbelief, turning to Arthur and placing a hand on his thigh which you gave a light squeeze. "I knew you'd come to your senses one day," you smiled and looked up at him.

Hosea returned the warm smile, a hand on your shoulder with the same reassuring squeeze you'd just given Arthur. "Don't make me regret this," he spoke softly, and turned to head back to camp.

With nightfall came an urge, unlike any urge you'd felt before.

Usually they only happened in your cot, when your mind wandered and created scenarios in the dead of night. But you were getting an urge now, sat around the campfire with a few other gang members. Arthur was opposite you, and with your head slightly tilted towards the ground you looked at him through the flames, unbeknownst to him. His chiseled jaw, his battle scars, his stubble; every feature your eyes skimmed over made your core wind tighter.

There was no noise except for the fire crackling, you feared others would soon hear your heartbeat if you didn't think of something else- anything else to keep the hunger you had for this man at bay.

With a slight shake of your head you brought yourself to sit upright, catching Arthur's eye as you did, and one corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. You weren't sure whether it was because he knew what he'd caught you in, or whether it was just him acknowledging he'd seen you eyeing him, but it sent a small shiver down your spine nonetheless.

You were surprised to even be feeling these things at all around others, averting your gaze from his. But you knew that the blessing was what had triggered it; the go ahead that you were yearning for to have the softer parts of Arthur's skin right at the end of your fingertips.

"I should get to bed," you faked a stretch before standing up, "it's been a long day for me. Goodnight everyone."

The gang hummed you a goodnight as you turned on your heels, letting your eyes linger on a certain outlaw only a second longer than usual to give him an idea of what was going on in your mind.

Your cot was cold, it always was. But tonight it felt colder as you sat down and ran a hand along it. You wondered if Arthur had got the hint or if you'd be spending yet another night alone. Hell, you weren't sure this was something he even wanted himself. Sure, he showed his love for you in his own ways, but he wasn't the openly over-affectionate type. You often had a hard time reading him, and it was no easier task when it came to this subject.

After a short wait you settled down under your blanket, hearing others were heading to bed too and assuming Arthur keeping you warm wasn't for tonight. Within only a few minutes you fell asleep.

You stirred and groaned as you were pulled from your slumber, though not by noise, but a presence.

Arthur, slinking into your cot and gluing himself to your back as though you'd been made to fit there all along.

His hand snaked over your hip as it came to rest on your lower belly, holding you close as though he expected you to move away. Of course, you didn't. In turn you sank into him with a contented sigh, turning your head slightly to see him out of your peripheral were you to even bother opening your eyes. "You're so warm," you smiled, "just what I needed."

His hand moved up your side to cup your chin, kissing your jawline once tenderly and leaving another on your lips before he let you sink back down.

You were happy with this. It was a big step up from what your relationship had been for the last few months, and just being in his company while he was as relaxed and vulnerable as he could be made you feel so happy deep inside. You spent a good moment like that, enjoying eachother's warmth and the comfort it brought you both to be so at peace together.

But your breathing quickened only slightly as Arthur's hand began to move. It moved back up to your hip, and instead of leaving your body as you expected, he slowly moved it down towards your thigh.

With the stroke back towards you, he collected the material of your night gown against his fingers, bringing it back up to expose to his rougher hands the softness of your outer thigh. His lips graced your neck as he did, ever so softly.

"Arthur," you stuttered through a breath, instantly aroused by these new feelings, to which he only hummed into the next kiss. His hand moved higher but hesitated at the top of your thigh before he revealed anything more intimate, even if he couldn't see it with the blanket still over you both.

"Yes," you sighed, your hand moving to his to guide him higher, "please."

Arthuragain only hummed into you, all the confirmation he needed. His hand rubbed down your thigh again, and as you expected him to return back to your hip, he didn't. He instead moved across your thigh towards your core, grabbing the inside of your thigh and gently asking you to pry your legs apart.

You only obliged, slowly bringing one knee up towards the ceiling and resting your outer thigh against him, still in jeans and a loose shirt.

Your breathing shuddered as his fingers came so close to where you wanted them, caressing up your inner thigh and then up to your hip bone and back. He traced your thigh one last time, savoring the softness at his fingertips, before moving up to your lower abdomen and bringing his caressing to a halt.

"Hush," he spoke merely above a whisper as he watched your eyebrows scrunch in protest. His hand shifted, and fingers first he slid it down your stomach, over the neat patch of hair and slowly down your folds. "Let me savor you."

Your breathing hitched at the feeling, one you'd enjoyed by yourself, increased tenfold under Arthur's touch. He rubbed back up, hovering over the nerves that begged to be stimulated, before brushing back down again. You could feel your heartbeat down there, so strong you were starting to wonder if Arthur could too.

His fingers dipped into you ever so slightly, gathering the slick you'd made for him and coating your folds up to your clit.

And he rubbed.

He rubbed the most delicious circles, coaxing the most gentle moans from you as you breathed. "Arthur" you sighed again through a smile, threading your arm under his to hold his forearm that worked on you.

He gathered more slick and continued his movements, watching the pleasure wash over your face with every new circle, and just as he was about to bring you to the edge, he stopped and gently pressed against your leg to ask you to close them.

Your discontent must've been louder than you'd liked, for Arthur chuckled at the noise you made and turned you to be completely on your side again. His hand met your lower back oh so tenderly, pulling up your garment further to reveal your behind to his touch. His hand slinked down, over your folds and back up again, a single finger breaking the seal and lubricating itself as he went.

"Do you want to do more tonight?" He murmured, almost too muffled for you to understand. You turned to him with a look of slight concern. "Don't you?" Your voice was quiet, a wave of anxiety crashing over you as you waited for what felt like forever for an answer.

"Course I do."

With a contented hum you turned away again, feeling his hand bump against you as he unbuckled his belt. This was it. "Take it all off, Arthur, won't you?" You pleaded as his hand returned to your hip. "I'd like to feel your skin on mine, not those." You spoke of his jeans.

Of course Arthur wanted the same. He didn't want the boundary of an item of clothing between your body and his, but he wasn't quite sure why he hadn't just removed everything. Perhaps the fear of being caught, or maybe just first time nerves.

He pushed the blanket off of himself and sat up on the bed. His shirt was first to come off, before he stood and removed the rest.

What a sight.

His warm body was soon against yours again, and if you hadn't had such built up anticipation right now, you would've been happy to just enjoy the embrace for the night.

But that wasn't the case.

Arthur wrapped a hand around his cock, tracing your folds with the tip, giving you a taste of what was to come. He wasn't small by any means, and you were excited for it. You rolled your hips back into him, words unavailable. "Alright," he cooed, removing the blanket from the both of you to see himself so close to being inside you.

"You sure this is what you want, now?" You chuckled in disbelief, though you did appreciate him pressing for full consent. "Fuck me, Arthur."

Before you could roll your eyes, Arthur made you do it himself, slowly sliding his tip inside and pulling from you the quietest but most obscene noise.

His hand moved to your inner thigh to part your legs only slightly as he pulled back before going to slide in again. You grabbed his forearm as he pushed in a little deeper, your walls clenching around him almost as tight as your hand was. He was so thick, you were sure to be a little sore by morning.

With soothing words of affirmation he lifted your leg slightly for easier access, and after a few seconds of breathing and adjusting to him, you relaxed for him to move deeper.

"Oh," you sighed between slow thrusts, "this.. was worth.. the wait."

Arthur's chest rumbled against your back, and his hand moved to sit in the dip near your hipbone to pull you closer into him as though it was even possible.

After a few lazy thrusts his hand moved from your hip to snake across your belly and came to rest just below your chest, as if in hesitation. Though he heard no words, only a chuckle against his hand which was promptly moved to cup one of your breasts.

And he finally gave in.

You'd never imagined Arthur to be rough, and you were right. His thrusts that now held more intent held so much love, so much passion it made your insides burn with desire. If you ever had a doubt for his love for you, all that has been washed away with the embrace he has you in. You couldn't get close enough to him, and he couldn't get close enough to you.

He held you so close to his chest, his warm breath tickling the back and side of your neck with each gentle yet sharp exhale.

Your hand moved to the back of his neck, your fingers getting caught in his dirty blonde hair which changed his pace slightly; a little faster but no less passionate. He almost couldn't believe it as he opened his eyes momentarily, your bare skin against his, the warmth, and the glistening at the base of his cock as he pulled out only to slide right back in. Into you.

Your gasp brought him back, a gasp that only meant one thing, you were close. But Arthur didn't want you finishing where he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Don't," his voice was deep as he pulled out and moved down the bed. Your face was expressionless, not understanding what was going on and feeling a little disappointed and robbed of what would've been your first orgasm by him.

"Don't look at me like darlin'," he cooed, opening your thighs so you'd move to be flat on your back, "I just want to see you better."

Your eyes almost rolled at the comment alone, as if him looming over your body and dragging his cock along your wet folds wasn't doing it enough for you already. His lips met your collarbones and moved up to your neck as his cock met your entrance once more, sliding in with more ease and filling you even more deliciously than it had the first time.

You instinctively placed a leg on his back, pushing down ever so gently asking for more. Arthur hummed but his lips never left your body for long enough to speak. His thrusts grew slightly harder as he moved down to your breasts, kissing and licking the skin before he took his lips to one of your nipples.

Your back arched in surprise and you let out a quiet laugh after your initial shock, making Arthur chuckle with you.

Your moans grew only slightly louder, mixed with giggles and gasps as he worked you as though he'd done it a thousand times before. You were aware that being too loud would probably be the death of you if your father found out that you'd been at it so soon; or at it at all.

"Arthur I'm so close," you panted as he raised his eyes to meet yours. Your skin glistened just as his did, you looked so beautiful under him. "Me too, darlin'."

His lips returned to your neck as he gave you a few more thrusts, lazy and clumsy as he neared his own high. Oh how you'd craved to see him come undone. His forehead came to rest on yours as he gave his final thrusts to push you over the edge. You writhed under him and your walls tightening made him pull out with an urgency you hadn't seen before.

He sat back and did his best to control where he went, decorating your lower stomach though he'd have preferred not to sully you in such a way the first time. As you caught your breath he wiped you down and came to rest beside you once again, only this time in front of you. No words were needed, the both of you truly on cloud nine.

You snuggled into his chest despite still being quite warm, you'd be damned if you were to cut this moment short, this buzzing feeling that coursed through your body. But as the minutes passed you both battled with sleep, and too relaxed to fight it, you let yourself drift off in Arthur's embrace.

For in Arthur's arms was where you were meant to be, and where you hoped to remain forevermore.

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