More Than Just A Sugar Baby
Summary: Imagine you’re Alastor’s, Lucifer’s, and Husk’s sugar baby and one of you starts to develop feelings?
Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, rubbing, fingering, oral, swearing, a little bit of angst if you squint? Husk is drunk, but that’s it. I wasn’t happy with Vox’s and Adam’s parts so I’ll upload those soon. MINORS, DO NOT READ!!!
Alastor:
Romance was not something Alastor dealt in, everybody knew that, so when a pretty little thing like you suddenly showed up at the Hazbin Hotel in search of him instead of redemption, they were…confused. Nobody dared to pry into the man’s private affairs, however, shut down by a mere stare over the shoulder as he escorted you upstairs. This continued religiously every Saturday night, your secret arrangement never escaping the confines of Alastor’s walls.
“Oh, ma chérie, why are you being so quiet?”
You sighed as Alastor placed a gentle kiss on your clit, his arms wrapping around your thighs to part your legs, which you were too shy to do yourself. “That’s better,” Alastor murmured, his tongue slithering past his teeth. “But not quite what I’m looking for.” You tossed your head back against the mattress with a cry as he licked at your clit, which is exactly what he wanted to hear.
Lick, kiss, lick, kiss—Alastor did this back and forth, relishing in every noise that escaped your throat, including the way your hips tried to wriggle away from his ministrations. You didn’t recognize the man between your legs, and truthfully, neither did Alastor, overcome by something he had worked so hard to suppress since he manifested in Hell: carnal desires.
“Is this what you wanted all along, hm?” Alastor asked you as he lapped at your cunt, making for a filthy sight.
The sexual aspect of your arrangement was new, at least when it came to you being on the receiving end, so you were afraid that if you gave Alastor a verbal response, you would tell him more than a simple ‘Yes,’ months of getting on your knees in exchange for salvation from the financial hole you had dug yourself into making you feel…certain things for him.
“Well, yes—“ You started.
“‘Well, yes?’ Do not lie to me,” Alastor interrupted you, the sound of radio static flooding your ears. “Just admit that you kept pleasuring me for something you no longer needed.”
“That’s not entirely true…” You tried again, but there was no point in lying when you had already fucked up from the beginning. “Okay, fine. I’m a liar. It’s just—I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore, Alastor.”
“If that’s the case, then why did you continue to return to me?”
“Because I want something more.”
A foreign feeling stirred in Alastor’s chest at that, and while he didn’t know what it was, he did know that he preferred to hear what you said more to any other sound you’d made thus far. He latched onto your clit, suckling it and making you feel rewarded for your honesty. You were close, so, so close, but then Alastor brought his head up with a ‘Pop!’, any complaints you had dying on the tip of your tongue when he crawled up to you.
“Part those legs for me, won’t you, ma chérie?” Alastor told you, settling his fingers on his belt buckle as he peered down at you with a smile, his cock straining against his pants. “I will give you something more, alright.”
Lucifer:
Nobody was aware of your arrangement with Lucifer, not even his own daughter, and he intended to keep it that way. Even when he moved into the Hazbin Hotel shortly after it was rebuilt, the man told you through the phone an hour before you were supposed to meet, “Just tell me when you’re outside, alright?” allowing him to whisk you away in secrecy, a smile on his face as you lit up at the sight of his wings.
“Fuck, please keep doing that—yeah, just like that, honey.”
Lucifer carded his fingers through your hair, a groan escaping his throat as your tongue leisurely traveled up his cock. But when you peered up at him through your lashes and gave the head a wet, sloppy kiss, the man yanked your head down, tears forming in the corner of yours eyes as he forced you to swallow him whole, his cum shooting straight down your throat. Although you almost choked, knowing that it was the third time he had finished made your heart swell with pride.
“That was…quick,” You said, blinking away the tears as you pulled back, licking your lips when he shot you an unamused look.
Even though Lucifer didn’t mind a little teasing, he couldn’t help but wipe that smile off of your face, his tail wrapping around your waist. You yelped as he tossed you onto the space next to him, your heart pounding violently against your ribcage at the suddenness of the act. “Lucifer!” You scolded him, your face flushed in embarrassment as he hovered above you with a toothy grin.
“Aw, why’d you stop laughing?” Lucifer arched a brow at you.
You would have responded if he hadn’t trailed his hand down your shorts and past your underwear, locating your clit with ease. Lucifer chuckled as you parted your legs, your head sinking further into the pillow, but your displeasure never leaving your features. “You’re the worst,” You muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as the pads of his fingers moved up and down your folds, collecting your slick.
“Yet you keep coming back to me,” Lucifer said, leaning into your neck, staying there as he added the next part in a joking manner. “You must love me then, huh?”
You sighed, your back arching off of the mattress as he slowly sunk his fingers inside of you, stretching your walls with a delicious burn. His thumb massaged circles onto your clit, too, the combination feeling heavenly. However, you particularly enjoyed watching how Lucifer’s arm flexed as he worked away at your cunt, the way you clenched around his fingers a testament of that.
“And if I do?” You whispered, feeling his breath hitch.
Lucifer brought his head up to look at you, his hand coming to a standstill. You opened your mouth to ask him why he had stopped, but then he curled his fingers upwards, pressing against that velvety spot inside of you. “And if you do…” He said, seemingly considering your words as he fucked you with his hand, the room filled with the filthy sound of your squelching cunt. Your eyes fluttered shut with a cry—fuck, you were so close.
“Well, uh, if you do, you wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again,” Lucifer added tentatively, assuming that was what you cared about the most.
“Yeah, but…I’d also get to wake up next to you every morning,” You said, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
Lucifer suddenly captured your lips with a kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise. The two of you had agreed not to do that when discussing the terms of your agreement, finding the act too…intimate, reserved only for lovers. But there you were, letting each other know how you truly felt by defying one meager rule, all while his fingers continued to work away at your cunt, preparing you for the long night you were in for.
Husk:
Husk lost the ability to love a long time ago—that’s what he told you when he offered to help you with your financial situation, positive that the sexual aspect of your arrangement wouldn’t affect him. But as the months passed by, he started to feel a distant ache in his chest, guilt enveloping his heart when he realized it only worsened with every visit you paid him. So, what did Husk do? He drowned himself in liquor, trying not to let his feelings get in the way.
“Shit, babydoll…ya treatin’ me s’good.”
You kissed at Husk’s neck, your hand buried in his pants as you stroked his cock at a leisure pace. He was usually the one on top, but he came into your room utterly inebriated tonight, asking you to take care of him as he collapsed onto the mattress. You could tell that Husk wanted more, his hands bunching your skirt up over your waist, the pads of his fingers running down your cunt through your panties, but he was drunk.
“Always,” You said, feeling him throb in your hand.
“C’mere,” Husk said, patting his lap. You hesitated, but you eventually retracted your hand from his pants and complied. “Why ya bein’ so shy, mm?”
“Maybe because you’re drunk—“ You started.
But then he grabbed your hips and tried moving you against him, his brows knitting in confusion when you didn’t budge. You ached for Husk, truly, but how could you give him what he wanted without feeling guilty about it? That is what you wondered as he tried to shrug off his own pants, the man growing frustrated as he failed to realize his suspenders were still on.
“Just needa get these fuckin’ pants off.”
“How about I use my mouth—“
“Nah, lemme—“
“What’s wrong with you!?”
You hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but watching Husk drunkenly struggle underneath you made you feel sort of…upset. Not to mention that this wasn’t the first time he had come to your little meetings like this. As you stared down at him, you started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, the hurt on your face sobering him up a bit.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Husk said, panicking as he pulled your skirt down where it belonged.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you,” You said, but he wasn’t having any of that.
Husk shook his head, holding onto your hips as he sat up. He was no longer hard at this point, so you straddled his lap, your eyes fluttering shut as he reached out to cradle your jaw. “Don’t apologize, babydoll,” He muttered, the stench of whiskey wafting into your nostrils, but you were too busy focusing on the feeling of his thumb swiping across your cheek to care.
“Is everything alright?” You asked. “I’m only asking because I’ve noticed that you’ve been coming to me all drunk and shit.”
“Yeah,” Husk said, but when he noticed how unconvinced you looked, he sighed. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me, I’ve just had a lotta shit on my mind, s’all there is to it.”
“Y’know, Husk? If you don’t feel comfortable with…this anymore,” You said, gesturing to the two of you, “You can just tell me.“
“No!”
Now it was your turn to be surprised, blinking as Husk massaged his temples. You had no idea that he was trying to figure out how to tell you that he’d been getting drunk so he’d feel less guilty as he fucked you, refusing to end your arrangement not only because you needed the money, but because he was selfish, too. “Husk?” You said, your hand settling on his chest, his heart racing against your palm.
“I’m just gonna give it to ya plain and simple,” Husk sighed, placing his hand over yours. “Look, I like ya, and I didn’t wanna say anythin’ about it.”
“But why’d you get drunk?”
“I got drunk ‘cause I’m fuckin’ selfish, alright?” Husk said, raising his voice at you by accident. “Sorry, babydoll, I just feel like a jackass right now.”
You leaned in and placed a kiss on Husk’s nose, trying to show him that you weren’t upset. In fact, you appreciated his honesty, relieved to know that he didn’t find you…disgusting or anything. “Let’s talk about this when you’re sober, okay?” You said, pushing him down onto the mattress. “For now, let me take care of you.” Husk’s face flushed at that, but the way his cock twitched eagerly against your clothed cunt felt more rewarding.
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Unrequited (Arthur Morganxf! Reader) - RDR2
A/N: Whoever decided that there could be a button where Arthur Morgan says "good girl" how ever many times you want, I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.
Synopsis: Arthur loved Mary, didn't he? So, why was it he was spouting all this nonesense about loving you?
Warning/ Tags: Angst. But like SO MUCH FLUFF. Allusions to Sex. Mentions of violence. Coarse language. Kissing. Hurt/ Comfort. Angst with a happy ending.
Word Count: 6.1K
Masterlist
Even now, Arthur Morgan was a lovesick fool for Mary Linton.
You shouldn’t have been surprised; you weren’t really. Arthur doesn’t talk about her much anymore, but you’d known him long enough to see he’d never really let that part of himself go. That part of him that loves. That dreams of something better for himself even if he thinks he’s the big, bad, scary man that he is.
And maybe in some aspect, he is that man. Threatening, bartering, killing. Sometimes you look in his eyes and see nothing but a hard, desolate exterior that wouldn’t think twice about shooting anybody up so long as Dutch told him to do it. But the reality Arthur Morgan doesn’t want to accept is that there’s goodness hiding within the moulding of a gunslinger enforcer.
You can glimpse that goodness when he helps a woman on the road or gives medicine to a man dying from snake poison, and you can especially see it when he’s hauling his ass on his horse to help Mary even when he’s being pulled left and right to finish errands for the camp.
So no, you shouldn’t have been surprised that Arthur would ride out the earliest he could to help his past lover.
But hell, why did it have to hurt you every damn time?
He returns to camp just after the sun rises and light starts to colour the world around you. The air is still crisp, and the heat of the sun is non-existent on your skin. You’re brushing your horse’s mane when you hear the familiar holler of his voice towards Bill. You don’t look towards him as his horse trots towards the hitching post.
As he dismounts, he greets you, a little pep in the tone of his voice.
It irritates you immediately.
“Mornin’.”
You grit your teeth and put on the brightest smile you can muster. “Mornin’!”
He takes a moment. His eyebrows crease. “Something matter?”
“Uh-?”
“Nothing it’s just-“ he breaks to think about the right words to say. “You don’t look- Never mind.”
This only encourages you to grow your façade stronger. “So,” you start “what’d Mary need this time?” It comes off a little pettier than you intended it to be. He doesn’t deserve that, hell, Mary didn’t deserve your bitterness either, fine woman she was.
That little fact seemed inconsequential however every time he uttered her name and the familiar feeling of jealousy pricked, downright stabbed itself in your gut.
He picks up on your tone, not appreciating it one bit. The displeasure that carves into his expression almost makes you wince and the fake smile that’s plastered on your face twitches the slightest bit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You take the coward’s way out, you always do.
You break eye contact and continue to brush. You’re rewarded by a loving whinny and it almost distracts you from the ice-cold awkwardness you’ve built around this conversation. “Nothin’, just asking.”
Whether he believes your fib or doesn’t, he doesn’t let it show. But him moving on has you thanking God regardless. He takes out a brush, starting to work on his own mare’s mane. “Good girl.” He whispers. Warmth creeps up your neck as your ears tingle towards the baritone timber of his voice. It makes you lose all self-respect for yourself. He sneaks a look at you for the tiniest bit of time before continuing your conversation. “Her brother, he was involved in some weird religious group.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep,” he sighs “buncha turtle lovers.”
That gets a genuine chuckle out of you even though you don’t understand it. When you glance towards Arthur’s direction, the indifference has faded away from his features and all that’s left is a sarcastic smirk in its place. All frost has melted away and all too quickly you’re back to the ease that usually came with your dynamic.
You can’t help but throw a snide joke his way. “Gosh, if you’re still this involved in their family drama, you should just make it official and propose again.”
The idea haunts you, of course, it does. But you weren’t going to let Arthur know that. The more you joke, the more it becomes real, the more your true feelings become buried underneath a pile of age-old lies and supportive nonsense. Because at the end of the day, if it would make Arthur happy, you’d keep biting your lip and pushing him towards happiness.
Love worked funny like that.
His smirk falls and you’re worried you pushed it a tad bit too far. “I tried once and I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.” He turns almost sombre, like thinking back on old memories that were equal parts sweet and bitter and this bothers you in a different way.
“I sincerely think if you were to propose to her right now, she’d say yes with no questions asked.” You hope he sees the genuineness in your intentions.
He merely gives you a scoff, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah well,” he trails off. “It’d never work out now.”
You decide not to continue pushing. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to dig deeper into the situation and even in your sorry narrow-minded state, you could understand and respect keeping your mouth shut when you needed to. You lick your lips and stick another sickly-sweet smile to your face. “Well, you continue on moping, but I can’t say I’ll be sticking around to see you grumbling around.”
That gets him to snort. “And where will the rough and tough princess be today? Helping a rabbit off the road? Wait-“ he pauses for dramatic effect “Talking to the birds and singing em’ a song?” He makes himself chortle quietly at the idea.
“I have a date.”
That gets him to stop cold turkey. He’s only met with a smug appearance on your end. “You?”
You fake great offence and snap at him. “Hey! Even I can seduce someone if I try!”
“No, I know- I” He appears shaken up about your revelation and for a moment, the tiniest fraction of a second, you could almost see the tensing of his jaw. “With who?”
It’s your turn to leer at him. “Why’s it matter?”
“It doesn’t I-“ he stutters “I just-“
You raise an eyebrow. “Well if you must know, he works at the hardware store.” You say as you recall the day you met the gentleman. “I helped him carry out some tasks and he gave me a daffodil in exchange, of all things.” You pointed at the flower currently tucked in the band of your hat. “Cutest thing.”
“Is that right?” He gruffed out.
“Mhm, so I’m gonna escort him and his granddaughter to a birthday party out in Strawberry.” You giggle. “He said he needed a ‘fighter’ with him because of his ‘old bones’ and ‘lumbago’” You roll your eyes. “Sounds like Uncle.”
This seems to take Arthur by surprise. The dark clouds in his eyes clear out and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Wha-?”
You bite your lip to keep your internal laughter from spilling. “Listen, I offered.” You explain. “He’s been giving me discounts at the store and that girl is just the sweetest thing and well-“ you shrug, “I couldn’t say no like the goddamn softie I am.”
The blades in his eyes dull at the statement. The mysterious scrunch of his shoulders from earlier disappears. He steps away from his horse and walks around his mare to shorten the gap between the two of you. It reminds you that he’s tall, much bigger than you are. “That bleedin’ heart of yours is gonna get you killed one day.”
He mutters his words lightly and yet, there’s some odd sadness you don’t understand attached to it. He puckers his lips as if he wants to say more on the matter yet can’t.
You put on your best Arthur impression, puffing up your chest and scrunching your face. “Well, somehow this don’t suit me, now does it?”
At that, Arthur chuckles deeply. “Nah, you obviously ain’t tall enough to be me, shortcake.” He jabs you playfully at the shoulder and in response, you over-exaggerate the motion of being pushed back. Though, if he really wanted to, Arthur could have you on your back in less than a second.
He wouldn’t even have to touch you.
Before you can go down that rabbit hole of thoughts, you carry on with the train of humour. “Besides, heard from Jerry there’ll be plenty of cute fellas around to keep me entertained.”
The clouds start to roll back in his demeanour, dare you say with a touch of thunder this time. “You gonna be looking at other men?” The lightness in his voice is gone, only replaced with the venom from before.
You’re befuddled at the quick-changing atmosphere, but don’t go back on what you said. “All I’ve got to look at are you folks all day,” you quip “A girl needs a change of scenery every once in a while.”
He crosses his arms, clearly not amused. “We not pretty enough for you?”
“Well, you are certainly, but I don’t know about Pearson.”
You purse your lips immediately and silently curse yourself at the admission. That same old shit-eating grin makes a comeback. “Is that right?”
You push his arm back, but unlike him, you hardly get the man to move more than half an inch. “Oh shut it.” You quickly un-hitch your horse and mount her. All you want to do is wipe his lips so it turns back into his usual frown, but you’re afraid you’d just embarrass yourself further. “I won’t be back for a while.” You pull your horse away and pat her on the side. “Didn’t know children’s birthday parties could take so damn long.”
“How long will you be gone for?” He mumbles, voice noticeably quieter.
“However long it takes for a fella to get me off.”
Arthur’s eyes widen. The sun highlights the tips of his ears go red. “Wha- What?” He strained out like he wasn’t quite sure of what he just heard.
A real, true laugh comes out of you then as you spur your horse into action, cantering away from camp. You don’t wait to hear the rest of what he has to say. His flushed look is enough of a prize to take with you.
You replay it all the way to Strawberry.
------------------
It was well past sundown when you return. Truthfully, you don’t even know what time it is, all you knew was that you were gone long enough that laying down on your cot would be much appreciated by your aching muscles. There’s a light breeze and you take your hat off, shaking out your hair.
The party was a success. Jerry and his granddaughter got to and from Strawberry safely, and really, that was all you could wish for when you were being hunted constantly because of the bounty on your head. You knew you offered, hell you were pretty self-approving when you did. But even then, you made sure to ask if Jerry really wanted a gunslinger as an escort, to which he replied, “Oh, shove it.”
Wonderful man.
The rest of the camp, well those that were here anyways, aside from Bill who was back on guard duty, are already fast asleep. The crackle of the fire is the only sound filling your ears other than your own footsteps.
There’s a small oil lamp turned on in the corner of your vision, brightening the blue hue and you instantly know the only bastard who would be up at this hour.
He’s drawing again. His brows are focused in that way you loved so much and he only looks up from his journal once you amble closer towards him. You almost hate that you’ve disrupted him. You could watch him draw for hours and hardly get bored.
He closes the book and looks up at you. You nod towards his hands. “You’ll have to show me what you’re working on at some point, Picasso.”
Arthur lets a huff through his nose. “Not gonna happen.” He motions you to sit beside him and you take him up on his offer. You catch a whiff of his scent, something like tobacco mixed with old leather. It may have been slightly repulsive to anyone else, but this was Arthur, and all it made you feel was safe. “You was gone a long time.” He points out, a bitter tinge to his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
You tilt your head at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Arthur’s eyes narrow. “You just went off and didn’t come back until now.” The bitter tinge in his voice morphs into something like annoyance. “I was worried.” He mumbles low.
“Oh, I was fine.” You bump your shoulder against his, but it again, doesn’t make him sway. “Besides, I had a fella with me.”
His hand, the one closest to you, balls up at his side. He’s always been hard to read, but he clearly wasn’t happy at your revelation, and you had half a mind in this late hour to stew in that fact. “Did you now?”
“Sure, one of them single fathers.” You let a small laugh escape you and shake your head as you kick the dirt with your worn-out boots. “Don’t worry, I’d never steal one from a married woman.”
“Was he…cute?” He mutters.
“Never thought I’d hear the word ‘cute’ come out of Arthur Morgan’s mouth.” You catch a glimpse towards him and again note the same pink twinge on his ears, probably embarrassed at being called out on something so stupid.
You finally start to feel that familiar flutter in your stomach that was hidden behind all that supportive “do what makes you happy nonsense”.
No, we couldn’t have that.
So, you bury it down.
It just became easier that way after all these years.
“That ain’t the damn point.” He continues to grumble. “Was he?”
You ponder the question for a short while. “I mean, he was alright in the looks department, not cute-“
He cuts you off quickly. “Just alright?” He scoffs lightly.
You remember the aforementioned single father in question. His looks are the last thing on your mind. He was alright, not cute, not ugly. Sure, you wouldn’t want to sleep with the man, but-
“He was damn good with his kid, and I thought I’d like to get to know someone like that more.” You reveal through a whisper.
This causes Arthur to frown, but his expression softens. Some of that constant bitterness fades away. “You- “he cuts off and thickly swallows. “You weren’t doing anything strange were you?”
You can feel a prickle of heat in your face at the question. “I mean, we talked sure, but if anything, I just maybe wanted to indulge in a fantasy.” You shrug.
He snaps his gaze back towards you. “A fantasy?”
“What it’d be like-“
God, why was it so hard to say? “Being normal, having a family.”
The silence that follows is thick and you immediately scold yourself for ruining a perfectly airy conversation just like this morning. You regret it, you do, but you can’t deny how nice it is to finally get that dream off your chest. It wasn’t original, what woman at Camp, save Mrs. Adler, didn’t want that stability?
The feeling of riding was freeing. It gave you the grace of flying during a time when you were being held down and that will never change. But nowadays, you find that instead of being held down, you want to be held close. To be called important, matter to someone, so that when you felt lost soaring, you’d always have a beacon home.
“Damn it, you can’t be sayin’ things like that.” He forces out a murmur, a shred of his usual gruff tone.
“You ever think about that?” You tread lightly. “Having kids? Building a farm out somewhere and just-“ a deep sigh escapes you. “living and not surviving?”
It takes him a while to answer your question.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.” The vulnerability colors his voice and it starts to trip you over the edge.
You nod, pursing your lips. “With Mary?” You meekly ask, the crickets chirping making the exchange more awkward. You almost cringe at the silence of it all.
He tenses at her name and it seems like you get your answer.
“With Mary? I mean-“ He tries to dissuade you with absolutely no conviction in his voice. He pauses and curses under his breath. Arthur shakes his head, closing his eyes a moment. “Y’know, it ain’t always about Mary.”
You scoff in disbelief. “Arthur, it’s always been about Mary.” Sighing deeply, you bite your cheek at the acidic truth. “Even when you met Eliza, it was still about Mary.”
He’s taken aback by your statement and a subtle look of frustration overcomes his features. “No, it hasn’t.”
You want to say more, but your sardonic nature halts at his stoic reply. It’s like your heart stops, a coldness and a shrill wake your senses from the inside out. “What?” Your brain halts, all thought ceasing to exist except to process his next response. He tries to avoid eye contact, but you seek his gaze as you tilt your head sideways. “Arthur, what do you mean?” You repeat more sternly, begging to get a straight answer.
A stick of dynamite explodes.
“What about you?” His voice is hoarse like this is the most difficult thing he’s ever had to squeeze out of his mouth. “What about when it became you?”
The smoke clears and all that’s left is the destruction that caters right in the center of your chest.
There’s no longer just a flutter in your stomach, there’s a whole damn circus, and it decides to release the butterflies you worked so hard to keep from their magical chest of caution.
You shake your head and your body goes rigid. You move away from him and stand abruptly as you place your hands on your hips. He’s quick to follow you on your feet. A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat before you can stop yourself. “Arthur-“
“No, let me finish.” He steps in front of you and holds your shoulders square, turning your body towards him. Even in your bubbling anger, you hate the way your skin immediately melts under his touch. His eyes and actions are pleading for you to stay, so you let him speak, biting your tongue to keep yourself from interrupting. He stumbles over his words. “It’s been you for a long damn time.” He admits. “But I was, I don’t know-“You notice the light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead. “I was scared to say something.”
“If this is some dumb joke-“
“No!” He immediately denies like he’s appalled you would even think of it in that way.
“Well,” you sneer “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” You remove his hands from your shoulders stiffly and start to trudge away back to your horse.
In the years you’d known him, Arthur had been a force, even more so when he was younger and reckless. He was stubborn as a mule and despite keeping the peace for the most part, there was a strut in his step when he walked because he knew he had the power to change that whenever he wanted and get away scotch-free. Arthur was arrogant in that way, always threatening people with a smirk or an edge to his voice.
But this is the first time you see him flinch and it happens to be at your curt words.
A lump catches in your throat, but you’re too annoyed to care, all but continuing the short distance back to the hitching posts. Arthur is hot on your tracks, not letting up one bit. Maybe Bill was overhearing, maybe one of the girls stirred awake. It didn’t matter, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to get the hell away from here.
His catches up to you in no time, his strides much longer than yours. He steps in front of your path and when you make a move to step aside, he mirrors your actions. You click your tongue, glowering at him from beneath your lashes. “Look,” he starts “now I know you may not like me, but I-“
That gets your anger rising to incomparable heights. “Not like you?!” You practically shout out. Looking around, you remember where you are and it’s the only reason your voice lowers. “Arthur, I’ve liked you since the day I met you!”
His eyebrows pull together and his nose crinkles. Arthur’s face morphs into something like agitation from its previous confusion. “So, why all this attitude?”
You’re dejected. “Why all this attitude?” You softly hiss. “Why all this attitude when I’ve loved you for years and all I’ve heard about is Mary?”
Arthur winces. He steps back from you, recoiling like he’s just been shot by a sniper rifle.
Good, you think. He should feel like a right asshole.
“’Why all this attitude’ he says!” You giggle manically at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Where do I even start?” You begin to rant, hands back on your hips to give you some sort of anchor from sinking towards the ground. “I don’t know Arthur, maybe it’s because while I’ve been here stewing in self-pity, you were always out seeing her. Maybe, it’s because every time you were young, drunk, and broken, you’d come back whispering her name, mistaking her for me, and I was the one helping you pick up the pieces.”
Your heart was racing a million yards a minute, but you couldn’t stop now. All the hurt and sorry baggage poured out like molten lava, burning with years of intensity. “Or maybe-“ you point an index finger at him and snap sarcastically as if you’ve just discovered a newfound truth “Maybe, it was because I worked so damn hard to tell myself I wasn’t in love with you and you just-“ your voice breaks.
Arthur doesn’t interrupt you at any part of your monologuing. Just like usual, you can hardly decipher his emotions except notice the colour draining from his face.
“So, I’m sorry that I don’t believe you when you say It’s been me.” You continue. “You’ve given me no reason to believe otherwise.”
You sidestep him, not taking a single look back in fear of him seeing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You unhitch your horse, giving her a slight pat before mounting her again.
- - - - - - - - - - -
You don’t see or speak to Arthur for a few days after your argument.
You don’t have much energy to talk to anyone really.
So, you somehow end up back at a familiar field surrounded by evergreen trees and flowers. The crystalline water of the hot springs gleams in your eyes and a chill wind sends shivers up your spine.
You set up camp and stay a while. You don’t consider yourself the best hunter, but fishing didn’t require the same dexterity. Its quiet, peaceful even, for a while. All you hear is the chirp of the birds and the steady flow of water.
It gives you time to cool off, reflect on everything that’s happened.
The more time you spend out here, the more hesitant you are to leave. It's a nice reprieve from the perils of civilization and you find yourself slipping away, trying to grasp a sense of peace that's unimaginable for you most days.
Tends to happen when you're an outlaw, you suppose.
But one day, as you’re laying under the shade of a tree, feeling the blades of soft grass beneath you, you hear heavy footsteps starting to approach.
There's no need to bother even acting surprised.
Arthur takes a seat beside you with a deep sigh. He leans back, using his hands to support him.
The both of you are silent for a while, not one peep out of your mouths. You expect it to be uncomfortable but having him by your side brings an ease you haven’t felt in days. Arthur continues to stare up at the sun starting to descend in the horizon and you follow suit, eyes trained to the sky above.
“When I met you, I thought you were nothing more than a naïve, innocent little thing.” He starts, baritone drawl catching you off guard. You don’t realize how much you’d missed hearing it until now. “You were this small, precious thing I needed to protect. “
You glance towards him and notice the small smile now gracing his lips, his eyes glossed over like remembering memories from so very long ago. “You could barely ride a horse, hell, you could barely mount one.”
The genuine warmth in his voice continues to chip away any frustrations left within you as you recall those days like snapshots in your mind.
“Every day, it was something new with you.” He laughs out, making your heart traitorously skip a beat. “You were learning the ropes of it all, and for a while, you were just someone I taught.” He pauses and you look at him more clearly this time, head turned towards him fully in an effort to really listen to what he has to say. “But Mary, she-“ he swallows “I could just turn my thoughts off with her.”
He gives out another sigh. “I loved her, I did.” He admits. “It was so easy loving her at the time. We had no expectations of one another, and then all of a sudden that shifted and I don’t know if I could have been the man she needed me to be.”
You ache but it’s not because he mentions his past lover’s name.
“So I ended up actin’ like a goddamn fool. Boozin’, sleeping around.” He groans, obviously not proud of his previous ventures. “Dutch and Hosea, they couldn’t pull me out of it. I mean, they tried everything, but then-“ He releases a relieved chuckle. “Some woman I’d never met before poured a bucket of cold water over my head and pulled out her revolver, threatening to shoot my dumb ass if I didn’t get up.”
You snort as you’re reminded of that day.
It was dry and humid, overall making it a miserable summer afternoon. Arthur stumbled back into camp smelling like he was doused in moonshine, groggy and slurring his words together. Even Hosea, forgiving as he was, cringed at his sorry state.
You just about had it.
After collecting some from the nearby stream, you pushed Arthur down and doused him in ice-cold water. He sputtered, clearly not happy about what you just did and attempted to get up to confront you. You pulled out your gun before he could and shot right between his legs onto the dirt below. “If you don’t pull your damn weight around here, I’ll make sure the next shot hits!” you shouted, utterly disappointed.
“Good times.” You mutter and Arthur’s smile widens.
“Sure.” He agreed. “When my eyes started to clear, I swear to god I thought I was looking at an angel.”
You had a hard time believing that too. “You looked at a woman who just shot at you and thought she was angelic?”
He tries to find better words. “I guess you looked ethereal all together.” He tries to explain. “Like you were something I’d see at the pearly white gates of judgement.”
You sat amused at his thoughts. “That so?”
He’s finally able to make eye contact with you and revels in that fact. “My vision was still a little hazy and you just stood over me, posture straight, hat on.” He takes his hand and scratches his chin. It’s a tick for when he’s nervous. “Your hair had a glow to it from the sun and your eyes, they just- had this fire in em’ I’d never seen before.”
His shoulders drop and the mood suddenly turns mellow. “When we were ridin’ around and ended up at this clearin’, you just took off without me and I realized how much you’d grown into yourself right under my nose. You didn’t change really, you were still the same old, sunshine, animal-lovin’ princess, but the way you carried yourself? Asserted yourself more? God-.”
He holds your gaze as he continues and it’s like the world holds its breath for whatever he has to say next. “You rode off, hair wild, not looking back at me one bit and I just couldn’t stop starin’ at you because I thought you were such a damn sight.”
“It made me wonder-“ his words trail off. He stops for a while and you let him. You know how much courage it was taking him right now to admit this to you, letting down those guarded stone walls he loved so much.
You lick your lips, and in an act of your own bravery, you settle your hand on top of his, to which he visibly softens upon. “Made you wonder?” You urge.
“If that’s what Mary felt like, seeing me go all those times.” He finishes. “Because I hated it. I hated every time you got on that horse and left, and it would only hurt less whenever you came back.”
Arthur’s hand starts to clench, but you flip his hand in yours so you can interlock your fingers properly. You give his hand a squeeze and the tension eases off.
“But then I hear you wantin’ to go off with some man and all I could do was mope like a sorry idiot because what if-“ His throat works. “What if you rode off and didn’t come back this time?”
“Oh, Arthur.” You softly coo.
His hand starts to make small slow circles over your hands. “You know I realized something when I last saw Mary that I didn’t before.”
You’re expectant to hear what it is.
“Every time it got a little too rough between us, she was done with me.” He perceived. “I don’t blame her, she deserves someone to make her happy, but I wasn’t gonna change fast enough in her eyes.” He squeezes your hand tighter. “But you- you didn’t expect me to change on a dime. You were patient, you understood that I didn’t want to start a family not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid of feeling that pain again.”
After clenching his jaw, he takes his other palm and cups your cheek with the utmost tenderness a man of his size could muster. “With you, I feel like I can be something else, something good.” You lean towards his touch, begging that if this were a dream, you never wanted to be woken up. His gaze is soft on your features, highlighted by the starlight above.
“I know and I’m sorry for that sweetheart, I really am.”
“I fell in love with you a long time ago Arthur Morgan.” You confess. “I keep running away because no one holds me close enough to keep me somewhere.”
You feel a lump in your throat as you remember all the times you rode off wanting to hear him shout "Wait!", but he never did.
Tears start to escape your eyes and you don’t bother wiping them away. “Loving you hurt so much Arthur.” You whimper. “I started to pack all of those feelings away if it meant I didn’t have to ruin what we already had.”
He presses his rough lips to your forehead and leans back. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He tilts your chin up with a finger. “If I could go back and change the way I handled it all, I would.”
“Give me something to believe that this is real. That I’m not just making this up in my misery.”
Arthur takes a moment to look at you before he speaks. He takes the time to figure out how he’s supposed to approach what he wanted to convey “Close your eyes for just a second.” He mumbled, his voice pleading.
You don’t question it and do what he wants you to do. You fully accept you’d be one of those pathetic individuals who’d follow him off a cliff if it meant staying with him and keeping him safe.
In the darkness, you feel him pick up your hands and place them on his chest. Under your palms, you feel the fast thrum of the beat of his heart and the laboured way his chest rises. You stay like that for a few seconds and match your breathing to his.
You tilt your head. “What?”
“Okay,” his voice cuts through your thoughts “now open your eyes.” You follow his command and you open your eyes to Arthur with a tender expression. You feel his breathing get faster, like he’s almost waiting for a reaction.
Arthur chuckles quietly at your question. “This is me trying to prove I’m serious about you.” His hands are still around your wrists, keeping your palms on his chest in place.
“By what? Letting me feel you up?” You jokingly say. “Arthur, who do you think’s being lugging your heavy ass around when you’re drunk, cause it sure as hell ain’t Uncle-“
Even in the darkness that surrounded you, you can sense his embarrassment. He starts to sputter to quickly get words out “Wha- no, that’s not what- I- you-“ He stutters, clearly flustered at the comment. He sighs. “Now, that’s not what I meant and you know it, sweetheart.”
“So then, what?” You push. You’re not trying to be obtuse in any way, but you want to hear a proper answer.
Arthur swallows awkwardly. “I’m just- I want you to know that my heart beats for you.”
It puts you in such a complete state of shock, it renders you speechless.
Just a couple of days ago, you would have been thirsty to hear those words drip out of his lips, but now that you’ve actually heard him say it, you don’t know how to exactly respond.
“Sweetheart?” He calls, voice laced with worry.
You slowly lean down and press your ear against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He smells like gun smoke and mountain air. The fast bu-dump of his heart is intoxicating, making you break out into a smile.
After a few seconds, he slowly places his own arms around you and pulls you in closer. His hold is firm. Secure. A bandwagon of bandits or federal agents could show up this instant and he wouldn’t let anything or anyone so much as even look at you the wrong way.
He tucks your head under his chin. “I can’t give you a house, or children, or land right now, but I want you to know you have my heart.” He places another soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ve had it for a long time and it’ll always be yours as long you’ll have me.”
“Well, I never thought Arthur Morgan was capable of such sweet words.” You tease.
You feel the rumble of his chest as he freely laughs. “Well, there’s a lot we don’t know about each other it seems.”
You give his statement some thought. “Maybe we can start to find those things about each other out.”
He nods against you. “I’d like that.”
You sniffle and follow him in letting out a laugh. “I’ll end up falling asleep here if we keep this up.”
He snickers at your comment. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you to bed then, huh?” He teases back, his tone light and playful.
You push away from his chest and fix your gaze directly at him, a dazed smile on your face. “I guess you’ll just have to, Arthur Morgan.”
His breathing hitches, obviously not expecting to be accepted on his offer. “Yeah, I suppose I will, sweetheart.”
You grasp his face with your hands and do something you’ve been wanting to do since the day you met him.
You place a kiss squarely on his mouth and he reciprocates it almost immediately.
His lips, though slightly chapped are soft and his stubble that he hasn’t shaved for weeks tickles your cheeks, poking you in a pleasurable way. You taste the tobacco on him and though you don’t smoke, maybe through kissing him you get the appeal. Fingers thread through your braid that’s falling apart by the second.
For the first time, you don't hold the butteflies back.
You part your lips to deepen the kiss and allow him to explore your mouth with his tongue.
It becomes hungry. Insatiable. It's years of pent up frustration and confusion exploding into a possession that consumes your whole body. He groans and you barely notice when he scoops you up, hooking his arm under your legs. “God, we could have been doing this earlier.” He growls.
As you giggle against his lips, Arthur continues to carry you, walking briskly towards your tent.
And the world around you stayed silent that night, except for a few hushed noises.
- - - - - - -
A/N: Yee-haw. Pls interact, I need to to talk to more RDR people lmao. pls.
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