currently taking a break from tumblr, will be back!❤️izzy❤️insta: nu.metalcowgirl❤️20❤️she/they❤️bisexual❤️18+ minors dni❤️you know, i'm something of a writer myself❤️this account stands with palestine🇵🇸certified arthur morgan enjoyer❤️wonderfully plus-sized :)
hey y'all, been awhile and i just wanted to give a quick update saying im still alive and still obsessed w red dead lmao. I'm gonna slowly move back onto tumblr but i wont be super active until I'm ready.
anyway, hope yall are well! we won't talk about the fact its been over a year since i last wrote something so im very sorry to keep you guys hanging, i need to find my creativity again.
miss you guys a lot! you'll probably see more of me little by little :)
hello lovely M 💕 i just wanted to check in and see how you're doing, and hope you've got plenty of inspiration and time to do what you love. i was rereading that delicious snippet of Cure for the Common Cold, and enjoying your gorgeously sensual writing, and had to say hi. i hope you're well, dear!
Hi, my lovely Ari! 💕 Thank you so much for checking up on me! I've been doin' well- mostly busy with some tasks that needed to get done now that spring is in full swing and summer is fast approaching! I'm so glad that you've enjoyed the last snippet of A Cure for the Common Cold! I'm an atrociously slow writer, so what little updates I have given have been far and few between (my apologies for that 😭). BUT that's to say I've been working very hard on this piece and making it absolutely perfect for y'all! 🤗
So, if you'd like to give it a read, posted below is another little snippet of this piece that will be posted much sooner than I'd like to say 😉 (Also, thank you to @pinescent-and-gingerbread, @photo1030, @grymghoul, @wipidek (thank you again, Ari 🤗), and @cassietrn for tagging me in their WIPs 💕)
-
WIP Wednesday (But not really Wednesday)
Photo from Pinterest and dividers from @olenvasynyt
"Ah.." An audible sigh escapes your lips as relaxation passes over you for, what feels like, the first time in weeks.
Blackness crawls from the recesses of exhaustion and opens its mouth wide to consume your vision in the nothingness behind your fluttering lids. There in that darkness every sound is heightened like the shrillness of a hat-pin clattering against the floor in a silent room. Crackling embers inside the burning hearth catch wind and pop wildly with the smallest whine and simmering fizzle. Droplets of water trickle out from the stretched faucet’s neck, long and craned over like a beautiful swan patiently waiting for a dip in the lake of milky warmth below. Even the soft pads of Arthur’s feet tap rhythmically against the cold tile as he flits around gathering up things you care not to look at in your comfortable position. A loud scrape, followed by a creaking wooden-groan, echoes to your left where he reclines in the vanity chair that was once nestled away beneath the mirror. Yes, it is a blissful kind of rest here behind your eyelids where sleep is fast to encroach on the dying threads of consciousness. Only… if it weren’t for the sudden knocking rapture at the front door willing you back to the world.
“Who’s that?” You stare at Arthur, wide-eyed and fearful of what dangers may lurk beyond the confines of this room, though he soothes you with an air of confidence only years of self-defense can attain.
“You jus’ wait here, Darlin’. I’ll be right back.” He waves a careful hand in your direction and quiets himself with precaution.
He leaves you there, silent and wishful that no trouble has come to claim either of you. Had someone managed to see his poster plastered someplace along the way to Saint Denis? Was he spotted racing you into town? Thoughts race wildly with the beating of your heart. Blood rushes to your ears, deafening any sounds coming from the other room, until the distinctive low hum of Arthur’s voice reverberates its way back to you.
“What do I owe?”
Again, thank you so much for checking in on me and thank you so very much for expressing interest in this little drabbles of mine! 😌💕
To others that have also expressed interest, thank you very much!
Please check out these other people’s works, since I also draw creative inspiration from them and the others I have already listed! @emerald-ranch @zae-heeyyy @coltermorning @twola @subpopizzy @amorgansgal @tortureddpoett @moeitsu @rivetingrosie4 @dilf-luvr-4evr
Love each and every single one of you! And remember, you matter 😌💕
tagged by @cassietrn Thank you so so much for the tag ☺️💛🌿
I don’t know of many who haven’t been tagged for this already, haha. I will tag @subpopizzy
Here's my WIP for the start of Chapter 9 of Treasure to Me (Arthur Morgan x plus size female reader):
(If anybody would like to be added to the tag list for this work’s chapter updates, please feel free to let me know. 🙂 I have a very small tag list and only add folks who have asked outright to be added. I’d love to add anybody. 💕)
The distant, resonant trill of the wood’s birdsong gently wakes you before it does Arthur. Lying on your side facing him, you watch as his eyes gradually blink open to show you deep lazuli wells of truth and warmth, leading straight down into his soul.
A smile flings onto your mouth at the sight, and he begins to smirk as he stretches awake.
Hardly ever have you known him to wake even a moment after yourself, or anyone. But this morning, a wry grin pulls on his mouth as he closes his eyes again. He groans as he dips beneath the woolen blanket and pulls it up over his head, half covering your face with his.
Your smile brightens and you follow below, enjoying the secreted dimness of a fort made for two.
“You kept me up all night,” he mumbles blearily as he slinks an arm over your bare waist.
He’s drawing close and pressing smacked kisses to your cheek, chin, and neck when you mumble a giggled response.
“You want some coffee?” he asks as he pulls back just enough to see your face in the tanned dim of dawn through the mottled wool. He swipes a finger back over your temple, brushing some of the night-dried clumps of flattened hair from your eyes.
When you simply nod, he mumbles assent and kisses you before exiting the blanket with an airy grunt. He quickly tucks the edge in close to you to reduce the rush of morning chill to your skin.
You take a breath and arch against the forest floor as you curl your toes and stretch your naked limbs. It takes presence of mind to savor the brief calm in the course of a morning like this—a sumptuous mix of restoration and comfort—and you remind yourself to listen to the mourning dove’s precious, serene hoot. When you finally lift your head from the blanket and sit up to greet the greened ribbons of light shining through the forest leaves, Arthur’s already dressed in his red union suit and beginning to stoke a newly lit campfire.
The thick woolen blanket becomes your cave as you wrap it around your body and sit cross legged on the mat.
Arthur spares a hidden glance your way and glimpses your face, finding you focused on wrapping the edges of the blanket around yourself. He smiles privately as he faces forward. Your nude neck and shoulders—streamed with wisps of your untidy hair—are evidential reminders of the thorough loving you’d enjoyed together the night before. He allows himself to consider it another territorial victory—another few steps deeper into the gorgeously lush and alive walled garden of your heart.
After he’s poured a mug of steaming black brew from the percolator, he walks it over to you. Clinging to the blanket around your arms, you stand to take it. And when the blue-speckled, enameled tin mug gingerly changes cupped hands, you notice a small, dark crimson blood blister beneath Arthur’s wide thumbnail, that you hadn’t before.
As he walks back to the fire, your mind wanders to come up with what possible moiling task could’ve put it there. Had he sworn? Torn his hand away? Shaken it? Or stuffed his thumb into the innate relief of his mouth?
Perhaps he hadn’t. Perhaps such a reaction is reserved for young ones; and perhaps a grown, dauntless, hardy man such as Arthur had managed to cage even his sudden, unforeseen pains inward.
Once Arthur’s returned the percolator to the fire’s coals, you watch the odd shapes of his bare feet shift and settle upon the lakeside’s soil and roughage as he stands a few feet away, enjoying his own newly poured mug of coffee.
After he tilts the mug for his last sip of dregs, he turns and reaches for the percolator. His fingers hardly graze it, and he hisses, swiftly jerks his hand back, shakes it once, and licks his fingertips.
A wiggly smile springs onto your mouth, and you tuck your lips inward as it grows brighter, finally deciding to hide it behind your mug.
Just as he turns in your direction, you force a focused squint and look out to the forest’s pool to try to hide your grin.
As you gaze at the cool, tranquil water, the image in your mind returns to the little blood blister on your lover’s thumb. Such an exceedingly small thing, but for you it represents his continuous hard work, his hard way of life. He almost certainly never even noticed its formation.
Arthur has known enough pain, you think. Enough in expanse and burrowed in depth to last a lifetime. Hardly any fun. Just a bit. And even that, always tainted by shadows of psychological games and tangled by a tapestry of looming realities.
He’s now been able to weep once, as he’d needed; his easiness with you has seen to that. You wish him to know the pureness of fun for its own sake—shed of the demand or need for any other conscious thought. Be it worry or fear, shame or heartbreak, distrust or disappointment, necessity…or even time.
Your lovemaking last night is still strikingly vivid in your mind, the heated sensations still effervescing across your skin at the memories of his eyes, his hands and arms, his chest against yours, his mouth.
You remember well how he’d tried so gently, with such understanding, to spur you to be playful and uninhibited in your lovemaking. To make each other laugh. To nudge you towards spontaneity. Fun.
Arthur has known enough pain. And you want so desperately to be his playful, uninhibited lover. To deserve his interest, garner his amusement, and above all, bring him relief. Pleasure. Fill him with all the love you feel for him.
So in a moment of pure folly, and with a heart trying its best to give itself over to spontaneity, you shut your eyes and squeal as you dart towards the water, letting go of the the woolen blanket at the last moment before splashing unceremoniously into the water. Turning to look at him with a buoyant smile, you lurch backwards into the woodland pool and dare him to follow.
“Needin’ another bath so soon?” His grin is almost boyish—lit by anticipation and pleasant surprise. He’s already awkwardly bent at the hip with his leg cocked in the air as he tries to roll his union suit down his hairy ankle, never letting his eyes leave your face and nude form.
“It’s my turn to entice you,” you call with a silken voice. Smirking, you sink to dip the lower half of your face below the water’s surface. You gaze at him on the shore with eyes that silently say he should already be in the water with you. With eyes laced with as much boldness and coyness as you’ve ever had occasion to find within yourself in all your life. He’s hurrying towards the pool’s edge when you add, “Mr. Morgan.”
“Don’t need to entice me twice,” he chuckles choppily as he stumbles into the water after you. “Mrs. Morgan.”
You giggle as he wades towards you. The two of you swim out deeper towards the center, becoming lithe and weightless, one with the water.
It’s easy for you to see the beauty in it: two lovers swimming naked in a woodland pool, playing, laughing, kissing in the mist of day.
Thank you so, so much for reading this wip of the beginning of my next chapter of Treasure to Me.
Find the work here on Ao3. And here's my tumblr masterlist.
I'VE BEEN OFF OF TUMBLR FOR A FEW MONTHS BUT I'M COMING BACK TO SAY I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS AUGHHH!!! this is my favourite work in the fandom literally ever, please go read this. it's absolutely beautiful
🌷 A Cry from the Heart of Gaza: A Family Searching for Safety Amidst Destruction and Danger🌷
Greetings to all of you,
I hope you can take a minute to read our story.
🍒I am Mohammed Al-Shawish, and I am trying to save my family—my wife and children—from the war. We are a family of 8: my mother and my siblings.
Islam is 35 years old. Hazem is 27 years old. Samer is 29 years old. Hashim is 31 years old. Nasreen is 37 years old. Nour is 36 years old.
I am married to a tohfa wife, and we have 3 children🍉: Suhail, who is 7 years old; Jwan, who is 4 years old; and Azad, who is 2 years old.🌷
We had a beautiful, clean, spacious house, and my children lived a luxurious, clean life, far from problems and annoying lives, but after the war we lived in forms of poverty and displacement, depriving them of their toys, belongings, and room, which they preferred to stay in rather than other people. Instead of their toys, they invented a medicine box and cut-up paper made up of money and food containers that they used as toys. .
They became adults when they were young and were suddenly deprived of their childhood, and they became responsible like adults, and they help me carry water and the troubles of this life because they feel the fatigue that I make for them. They became aware of our feelings when they were young, so your donation to us and our exit from Gaza may give them back the lives that the occupying army deprived them of.
I used to have a shop with my siblings, which was our family’s source of income💥. During the war, it was destroyed💥, and we lost our source of income😭😢
Days passed, and they were very difficult for my family. My father suffers from very difficult conditions, chronic diseases, and complete paralysis. After the occupation army ordered us to evacuate from north to south, we moved under bombardment and fear since the first week of the war to my sister’s house in Khan Yunis. This had a huge impact on us and my father's health. You know how difficult it is to move a crippled patient, and later, we learned that our house was completely destroyed. My father became so sad that his health condition deteriorated, and he suffered a stroke. Even the medications that the doctor prescribed for him were not available, so my family and I became shocked at my father. He became in danger and anxiety destroyed us all.
Then the Israeli army ordered us to move to Rafah in the far south💔. So we all moved to a tent in the cold weather, and today, after 100 days of war, we live a life that creates for us a feeling of fear, anxiety, discomfort, and safety in a tent made up of only scraps and wood. My father could not bear these movements and the extreme cold, and my father died. We could not bear the news, so we all broke down in tears because we did not She bore the news of his death, and due to the large number in the tent, my wife, children, and I separated. Then I went to her family and did not meet her for 3 months due to the continuous bombing and rain. She is waiting for me with her family in light of their difficult circumstances, hoping that the war will end, but it has continued until now.
I then started looking for a tent to reunite with my wife and children, because I did not have money. We contacted organizations to help provide wood and tarpaulins, and fortunately, one organization helped us. I moved to my tent with my wife and children, separated from my family, and live with my wife and children to this day.
🌸Later, the occupation army ordered us to evacuate again and move from one place to another until we ended up in a tent in Khan Yunis.
After the generosity and kindness of our Lord, my wife and I are waiting for a new baby😍, and now in her sixth month of pregnancy, I ask you to donate so that I can protect her fetus and my children from this fierce war by traveling outside Gaza😥, because due to the frequent movements and worries that still accompany us, the condition of the fetus has reached... Cervix, and due to malnutrition and lack of iron, my wife’s blood has become 8.9😥, and salts are increasing, which makes pregnancy dangerous.
This was not enough😵. She developed allergies all over her body, and there is no treatment to alleviate the severity of the itching, allergies, and pain that she was afflicted with. She was afraid to take even the supplement for fear of increasing the allergies. Even my children suffer from skin diseases and their bodies are ravaged by the allergies.
Greetings to all of you,
I hope you can take a minute to … Mohammed Alshawish needs your support for Donate to save Mohammed, his wife,
To ensure her safety, the safety of the child and my children, I want to leave Gaza and go abroad. By donating via the link
Please, I ask for your help to save my wife, family, and children from this war.
I’m Hossam Al-Serr, a Palestinian living in Germany, and I urgently need your support to rescue my family from the constant danger they face. After our home was destroyed, they are now living in harsh conditions in a temporary shelter in Al-Mawasi, Khan Younis. Every small donation can make a big differenceEvery single donation even it is €5 will help us reach our goal.
To donate
My name is Hossam Noah Al-Sir, a 28-year-old Palestinian now living in Germany after a long struggle t… Husam Alserr needs your support f
If you are unable to donate, you can still help by sharing this message and the campaign link with your friends and family. Every share increases the chance of reaching more people who are willing to help.
IMPORTANT NOTICE
If you have any questions please feel free to contact me
Husam Alserr is on Facebook. Join Facebook to connect with Husam Alserr and others you may know. Facebook gives people the power to share an
WhatsApp Messenger: More than 2 billion people
in over 180 countries use WhatsApp to stay in touch with friends and
fami
My husband Mohanad and I both worked as administrators at the Palace of Justice in Gaza.
We got engaged just two months before the war,
bought an apartment, and began dreaming of a new life together. But the war changed everything. Our workplace and apartment were destroyed, and we lost our jobs. Despite it all, we chose to move forward and got married in the middle of the war, with no wedding ceremony—just a simple union that symbolized resilience amid the devastation.
We’ve been displaced multiple times, each time facing a new eviction order and starting over again. We were forced to leave everything behind and flee with only a few belongings. The displacement was devastating, as we had to leave behind the life we built and the dreams we held for our future.
Today, we live in a small home in Al-Nuseirat, struggling to cover basic needs like food, water, and alternative electricity, facing monthly expenses we can hardly bear. Recently, a new eviction notice was issued for our area, and we don’t know what lies ahead. We’re searching for online work and have skills we can utilize, but finding opportunities has been very challenging under these conditions.
After renting the apartment in Nuseirat, we thought we had found a safe haven from the horrors of war. But on the night of 3-11-2024, explosions erupted nearby, and we never imagined one would hit our apartment. Suddenly, a missile struck; walls shook, parts collapsed, and windows shattered, leaving the room we had just been in destroyed.
We miraculously survived, but the place that once felt like a refuge had become a scene of chaos and destruction. With heavy hearts, we gathered what little remained and moved on once again, hoping to find shelter far from this endless devastation.
Vetted by Butterfly project, Number (#1184) on this list
Vetted by @gazavetters, Number (#42) on this list
Vetted by @90-ghost in this post
Vetted by association in this post
To donate:
I am Hossam, living in Germany, and I am organizing this campaign for m… Husam Alserr needs your support for Rebuild with Hope: Your Support
Any support would be a new source of hope for us.
Mohanad & farah
Update
On 28-11-2024, our home was shelled for the second time and struck by an artillery shell. We were trying to rebuild our lives amidst all the challenges, but today, our home has turned into rubble once again. 🥺🥺 The dream of safety is fading, and the suffering continues to grow. We need your support to stand on our feet again 💔💔
I am the one who wished for death so that he would not see the specter of torment and the bitterness of regret
I sit on the ground under a tent and look at my children starving and suffering from pain and fear while they are in front of me shivering from the cold and the smell of death that is everywhere and I cannot do anything as if I am chained in front of them a lifeless corpse and tears welled up in my eyes from grief over their condition.
I wrote this hoping to find a heart that beats with mercy to extend its hands to save us
contains explicit content, terminal illnesses, arthur has tuberculosis, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, aftercare, gentle sex, bathing each other, angst, fluff, smut, slow dancing, high honor arthur
Summary: Arthur and reader's fleeting time together lead to a few days off and some moments of pleasure
All you can do now is decide the man you want to be, for the time you have left…
The words rang through Arthur's mind as a raspy cough ripped from his throat. He could feel the metallic flavour of blood coat his taste buds as he spit the crimson liquid onto the ground.
He tensed at the gentle touch of your hand on his back, rubbing in circles between his shoulder blades, now much more visible from his declining weight.
Another cough erupted from his lungs as he leaned back into your touch, clutching his chest through the cotton of his blue work shirt.
“Hey, I got you…I got you,” you whispered, your voice soft and gentle as you sat with him on his cot. You handed him a canteen of cool water as you continued to rub his back, feeling the bumps of his spine under your fingertips.
“Here, drink up,” you smiled weakly, the pain of losing the man you love spearing a deep pang in your chest.
He took the canteen from you with shaky hands, gritting out a strained ‘ thank you’ as he took a generous sip of the water, taking a deep breath in as he handed it back to you.
You set the water on his night table, laying your head on his shoulder while you continued to rub his back.
“You should take a few days off,” you said quietly, knowing it was futile to even suggest it.
Arthur chuckled dismissively before being interrupted by a brief cough, clearing his throat.
“Y'know I can't do that, sweetheart,” he said softly, taking your free hand in his, threading your fingers together. You furrowed your brows, looking up at him.
Sunken cheeks, tired blue-green eyes in pools of bloodshot crimson, glazed over and watery from the prolonged coughing, surrounded by dark circles. His skin was pale, drained of any colour he once had while he was healthy.
Yet, even dying of consumption, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen.
You pull your hand away from his, cupping his cheek while you feel his prickly beard scratch your skin. His breath hitched as his eyelids fell closed, leaning into your touch as if you had just tamed a wild horse.
Your thumb glided over his cheekbone as he struggled to breathe, his hand resting on your thigh, gripping your skirts in his fingers.
“Please, Arthur. A few days off with me, please,” you pleaded quietly.
He sighed softly, knowing the consequences of abandoning the gang at this stage; Dutch's erratic behaviour, Micah whispering in his ear, the lack of food and resources for the gang to survive would damn all of them.
Tired would not even begin to describe how Arthur felt. Wearied, feeble and exhausted, hopeless yet somehow hopeful at the same time. Not for himself, but for the others who still had a chance, Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen if she would lay off the liquor, John, Abigail and little Jack.
He knew John still had an opportunity to have a family. A life, something so true and special that was taken away from Arthur.
He then turned to you with love in his eyes.
You still had a chance.
The look in your eyes, the soft pleading stare. Oh, he could not refuse you, not now.
Your time together was running short.
“Alright, alright,” he said, defeated. “I'll take you to Saint Denis.”
Your face beamed for the first time since the gang arrived in Beaver Hollow, pulling Arthur into a warm hug, being so utterly careful not to crush his deteriorating lungs.
You could hear him sigh as he returned the hug, the soft wheezing of his chest painting a frown on your face.
“You hate Saint Denis, though,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel obligated to bring you to, in his mind, such a disgusting city.
A breathy laugh fell from his throat as he held you, close, so damn close. He rested his chin on your head, his eyes fluttering as he took in the pleasant scent of your hair. Oh, how he would miss the smell of you in the afterlife.
“I'll make the most of it with you,” he whispered. “At least it ain't here.”
…
Saint Denis was just as wonderful and truly awful as you remembered it.
Beggars lined up on the streets as the rich socialites of high society turned up their noses at them for simply breathing in their spaces. Grey and black smoke of coal being burned through the chimneys of factories dissipating into the air, shrouding the sky in a layer of thick, black fog.
There were also the prestigious art galleries and theatres that you particularly enjoyed when you would visit Saint Denis, though you were not very fond of the city yourself.
Arthur hacked another raspy cough as the two of you arrived at the entrance of Saint Denis, a frown finding its way onto your face as you listened to his strangled noises. You gently rubbed his shoulder from behind, stroking up and down his bicep as the hooves of his mare clopped down the busy cobblestone streets.
“Do you want some tonic, sweetheart?” you said softly, continuing to rub his arm.
“ N-no, no…I'm fine just-” Arthur pulls over on the side of the street, hunched over as he hacks out another throat-burning, wet cough.
“Just…give me a minute. J-just a minute…”
Quickly, you hop off of the rump of his mare, watching silently as he turns his face away from you. You knew he did not want to get you sick, for you not to suffer in the same way he was.
You did not deserve it like he does.
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching for a bottle of tonic from your satchel and handing it to him. Arthur waved his hand away from you, refusing the bottle until the insistent look on your face persuaded him to take a sip.
He downed the bottle of tonic quickly, his hacking cough gradually subsided as he took in a deep breath, finally being able to breathe for a moment.
“Thank you, darlin’,” he rasped, helping you back up onto his mare.
You shake your head, rubbing his back tenderly as he urged his horse into a slow trot once again, leading the two of you to the south end of Saint Denis.
“You should let me help you, my love,” you whispered quietly, leaning your face against his back as you wound your arms tightly around his waist.
Arthur shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle. “Ah, I'm beyond helpin’, my darlin’. Don't worry about me.”
You kiss your teeth, frustrated by his stubbornness.
“The least you could do is let me make it a bit more bearable for you.”
Arthur sighed quietly, coughing slightly as he pulled up to the hitching rail of the trolley station that doubled as a post office, tethering his mare. He dismounted his horse, helping you down as well.
You looked at him confused, wondering why you were stopped at the trolley station of all things in a city full of entertainment and places to explore.
You grab his arm, pulling him gently as he steps onto the wooden porch.
If he was still running errands for Dutch while he was supposed to be resting…
“Um…what are you doin’?” you called, brows furrowed, disapproval showing itself clearly on your face.
Arthur turned to you, then to the window of the post office, gesturing as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I'm…gettin’ mail for Dutch-” he answered before you cut him off, waving your hand at him and shaking your head.
“No, no, no, no. Uh uh…you're supposed to be restin’ and havin’ a few days off. The hell are you doin' runnin’ errands, huh?” you said sternly, though you were not annoyed with Arthur.
Arthur tipped his face below his hat, shaking his head as he let out another wheezing cough.
“I-I dunno…”
You sighed and took his hand, guiding him down the wooden step.
“Then…walk with me and…we'll do somethin’ fun together, okay?” you smiled, turning to face him as you rested your hands on his shoulders. You took his hand in yours gently, watching him as he glanced around between your face and the trolley station in confusion.
“But I still need to-”
“No ‘buts’, Arthur! C'mon now, there's a whole city for us to explore. You can forget about Dutch's bullshit for a few days.” You tilt your head at him, pouting sweetly as you brushed your knuckles against his sunken cheek.
Arthur sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into your hand, the soft caress of your knuckles tickling his face, sending pleasant shivers down his spine.
He opened his eyes once more, the cerulean irises surrounded by watery tear ducts and bloodshot whites. He nodded, flicking his eyelashes gently as he hesitantly pulled his face away from your soft hand.
“There ain't no arguin’ with you, is there?” he laughed softly.
You shook your head, smiling as you hooked your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder as you began to walk in the opposing direction of the trolley station.
“No, there ain't,” you giggled as the pair of you stepped onto the cobblestone sidewalks, not quite sure of where your destination would be yet.
After walking arm-in-arm for about twenty minutes, you found yourselves in the middle of Saint Denis, just outside of the Théâtre Râtleur.
“Hmm,” you mumbled as your steps came to a halt, looking up and taking a gander at the extravagant architecture of the building.
Vaudeville was written on a large banner outside, hanging over the double-doored entrance. On the building's exterior front, a panel of the theatre’s name was displayed written in gold exhibiting the letters T. R. with a crested logo surrounded by lights.
If the outside was this flashy, you could only imagine the inside.
Arthur seemed much less impressed by the place itself as he shook his head, the rope tied around the crown of his hat bobbing as he chuckled.
“Been to this place before, real strange acts they got here,” Arthur laughed softly, looking up at the gaudy building.
You turned to look at him as he piqued your interest, curiosity glimmering in your eyes.
“What kind of acts?” you asked.
Arthur bit his tongue to stifle a mild cough, clearing his throat, “there was this one feller, Benjamin Lazarus or somethin’, who would catch gun bullets between his teeth. Oh, and this dancin’ fire lady, I forgot her name but her act was really somethin’.”
You raised your eyebrows and nodded your head, debating if you felt in the mood for such…colourful theatre performances.
“You interested, darlin’?” Arthur asked softly.
“Hmm,” you shook your head, “I was thinking a more…relaxed outing. Much rather spend my time with you than watch a performance,” you whispered, your hand that was not wound around his arm brushing strands of his hair beneath his hat.
Arthur nodded his head and smiled, “you got any ideas then?”
You looked up in thought for a moment as you remembered the little market set up at the park in the middle of the city. You wondered if it were just an annual thing, having never seen a market set up in the park of Saint Denis.
Though it seemed lively, you felt it would be the perfect spot for Arthur and yourself to unwind and spend some much needed quality time for yourselves.
“Well, there's that little marketplace in the park that we passed. We could go there, no?” you questioned.
Arthur smiled and nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back, urging you toward the direction of the park.
“C'mon, let's go.”
The park was bustling with a plethora of different kinds of folk, rich and poor, all from different walks of life. Set up in the park was quaint little booths and kiosks all selling assortments of trinkets, freshly baked goods that made your mouth salivate as if you could taste the items already.
Jewellery, watches, miscellaneous house decorations like oil lamps or clocks were all being sold, each clerk yelling over one another about a sale at their respective booths.
Arthur and yourself stopped in front of a kiosk selling jewellery, the clerk doing his best to persuade the two of you that all his items were real gold or platinum, though the prices only matched to about $1.50.
“Hmm,” you said curiously, picking up a necklace you found rather enchanting, dangling the chain in your hand while your other palm supported the pendant that was attached.
“Think it's real?” Arthur whispered teasingly, not wanting the seller to hear him doubt the quality of his products. You used your elbow to nudge his side playfully, the two of you giggling at his comment.
“Shhh! You'll get us in trouble!” you whispered, studying the necklace. Whether or not the accessory was real, it certainly was beautiful.
A dainty gold-coloured chain with a small pendant hanging at the bottom, the golden frame encasing an emerald jewel in the middle.
You stared at it in awe, broken from your thoughts as Arthur interrupted, rubbing his hands on your shoulders.
“I think…that would look lovely on you, darlin’,” he whispered quietly, bunching your hair and moving it behind your shoulders.
You leaned your head back and smiled sweetly, tilting your cheek in your hand.
“Oh, Arthur,” you muttered, your smile soon fading as you remembered his illness, quickly pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you fished through your skirt pockets for some cash.
It was not the time to dread what was to come, not the time to think of what would happen when Arthur would go.
No, this was the time you would spend every possible minute that you could with him, savour every moment.
Arthur noticed you digging through your pockets to pay for your necklace, shaking his head as he stopped your hand. You looked up at him with wide eyes, a look of confusion on your face.
“Let me,” he clarified, turning his face away from you as a small cough bubbled from his throat, pulling some cash from his satchel.
You waved your hands at him, shaking your head, “Arthur, you really don't have to pay-” you stammered before Arthur cut you off.
“It's money that ain't no use to me anymore,” he mumbled, handing the seller his money as he took the necklace from your hands, moving your hair and fastening the jewellery onto your neck.
“Besides,” he smiled, turning you to face him as he adjusted the necklace where it was settled, the pendant nestled between your breasts, “I might as well use that money as a gift for my lady.”
Your eyes widened, your face beaming yet your chest ached at his words.
His lady.
You inhaled deeply, an attempt to push back the tears brimming in your eyes, winding your arm with his once again.
“Thank you, Arthur. You really didn't have to do that,” you mutter sadly, resting your head on his shoulder as the pair of you meandered over to the next booth.
“I wanted to, you deserve somethin’ nice after all the shit that's happened,” Arthur rasped, his lungs failing to keep up with his voice. He felt your fingers grip his arm tighter, your body trembling as the two of you continued to walk through the market.
“What about you, Arthur? What about…all you've been through?”
Arthur shook his head, unwinding his arm from yours to wrap it around your shoulder, pulling you close and rubbing up and down your arm tenderly.
“Ah, don't worry about me, darlin’. Let's just…enjoy the time we have together,” he drawled, looking down at you with a warm smile.
Despite your sadness of the inevitability of Arthur's death, you knew he was right. Knew that you had to make the most of your fleeting time together.
You knew you had to show him how much you love him, if it would just give him some peace of mind before he goes.
You inhaled deeply, walking from booth to booth, stopping in front of one that was selling baked goods, causing your face to beam with happiness.
“Oh, Arthur…look!” you squealed with excitement, rushing over to the kiosk full of fresh sweets.
Lemon tarts, custards, light and fluffy cakes were displayed across the window ledge along with a variety of fruit pies that filled your nostrils with the loveliest scents.
Arthur watched your childlike enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest as he chuckled quietly. His heart was full of fondness for you, beating, aching to give you everything you deserved.
So much he wanted to give you, so much he felt you deserved before he went, yet so little time.
He walked over to you, rubbing his hand down your back, looking over the many options of desserts to choose from. You turned your head to face him, your smile softening when you met his eyes.
“Doesn't that just smell delicious, Arthur?” you sighed, your sights locked onto a delectable Victoria Sponge sitting on the corner of the ledge.
“We should get a slice to share, sweetheart,” you suggested quietly, holding his hand in yours.
Arthur nodded, grabbing some cash from his satchel and handing it to the baker, who accepted it gratefully.
“A slice of Victoria Sponge for the lady please,” he said to the seller, making quick work of cutting a large, generous slice of cake for Arthur and yourself to share. He plated the decadent sponge, fluffy and soft with fresh cream and jam sandwiched between two slices of cake. You were also handed two forks to share, thanking the baker sweetly as Arthur urged you towards a park bench to sit down and eat.
You set the plate down between the two of you, scooping up a piece of cake on your fork, humming contentedly as the burst of fruity tartness and sweetness hits your tongue as you take a bite.
“Mmm, that's delicious. Oh, Arthur,” you take his hand in yours, locking your fingers together as he also takes a bite, his eyes widening as you place your lips against his cheek. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head, taking another bite of cake along with you, savouring the wonderful flavour and the tender moment he is able to share with you.
“No need to thank me, darlin’. I'm just happy you're enjoyin’ yourself,” he muttered, turning his face away from you to rasp out another cough.
You bring your hand to his shoulder, rubbing up and down his arm lovingly. Luckily, this coughing fit was mild, gone as soon as it came but you knew, within a few hours or maybe sooner, a rough, painful fit would overtake him.
Before you could dwell on it, he set his fork down on the plate, leaving the rest of the cake for you to finish as he reclined back against the park bench. “As delicious as that cake was, ain't got much of an appetite, sweetheart. The rest is yours.”
“I understand,” you nodded sadly, finishing off the last few bites of cake before setting your own fork down.
Can't even enjoy somethin’ sweet , you thought to yourself. You moved the plate aside, shuffling closer to Arthur and laying your head on his shoulder. You felt one of his arms wrap around you, the wheezing of his chest becoming an unbearable sound, a constant reminder of his suffering.
You sat together on the bench, watching people move back and forth throughout the marketplace, chattering and purchasing items, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, soaking in each other's company.
The sun began to set over Saint Denis, a pleasant chill in the air as you noticed people gathering around the middle of the park, each taking a partner as a slow melody played on a gramophone set up near the booths.
You sat straight as Arthur stood up, extending his hand to you. Your eyes darted around you; couples were dancing in the park, swaying to the melody as the sun began to set over Lemoyne, shrouding the atmosphere in a warm, orange glow.
You took his hand as he walked you to the middle of the park, pulling your body close to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Arthur left no room for space between you, leaving you to think just how scandalous dancing like this would be if someone were to catch a glimpse.
Nonetheless, Arthur was an outlaw, a sick outlaw at that and a few disapproving stares from snotty rich folks while he danced with his woman was the least of his worries.
His hands rested on the small of your back, pulling your body flush against his and guiding your hips slowly to sway with the music. You tucked your head into his neck, smiling against his skin as you spoke quietly into his ear.
“I guess Saint Denis is good for somethin’. We should come back here next year for this,” you giggled quietly.
Arthur's face dropped slightly, running his hand up and down your back in a comforting motion, pulling you closer.
“I…ain't gonna be here next year, sweetheart,” he whispered sadly. You frowned, burying your face into his neck as you continued to move together.
“Oh, right…”
Arthur shook his head, placing one hand on the back of your neck to tuck you closer, “d-don't think about that right now, just…stay close to me,” he muttered, brushing his nose against the side of your neck.
You nodded, placing your hand against his face, pressing his cheek against yours, his beard rubbing against your skin.
His body stopped moving as he pulled away from you quickly, balling his hand into a fist as he let out a string of loud, hoarse coughs. He walked away from you to the entrance of the park, supporting himself against the fence as you followed behind him.
“Arthur? Arthur!” you called rushing over to him quickly, supporting his weight against your body as he hacked and gasped for air, spitting blood onto the ground at his feet.
“It's okay, it's okay. Here, drink some water,” you whispered, trying to stabilize your shaky voice as you handed him the canteen that you always carry with you.
“Th-thank you,” he grated, tilting his head back and taking a long swig of the refreshing liquid, handing the canteen back to you. He took a deep breath in, coughing once more before readjusting himself and standing up straight.
He leaned into your touch, gentle hands rubbing over his back as he closed his eyes.
“I think we've had enough excitement for one day, huh? It's gettin’ late, we should get a room at Bastille's for a few nights, maybe a bath. Does that sound alright?” you said softly, your hands on his shoulders gently coming down to rest at your sides.
“Yeah…yeah, that sounds fine,” Arthur mumbled, clearing his throat. You pat his back and hold his hand, setting off in the direction of the saloon.
Arriving at the saloon, Arthur held the doors open for you, gesturing for you to head inside. You smiled sweetly, appreciating the action as you stepped into the saloon, bustling with patrons and working girls, a poker table full of men hoping to win big.
You moved up to the counter, turning to Arthur, “I'm gonna pay for our room and the bath. Mind waitin’ upstairs?” you asked softly.
Arthur shook his head, not wanting you to even entertain the thought of paying for him. “Nah, I-I got it, you can go wait upstairs-” Arthur said before you cut him off.
“You bought me this lovely necklace and a slice of cake today, let me,” you said, already handing the bartender the money before Arthur could protest. Arthur sighed, defeated as he chuckled, waiting for you to finish up at the bar before turning to head up the stairs, you following closely behind.
“You're stubborn,” he said, continuing up the steps.
You kissed your teeth at him playfully, waving him faster up the steps. “Shut up and keep walkin’ so we can both take a bath,” you laughed.
The two of you stepped into the steamy room, shutting the door behind you as Arthur took off his hat, setting it on the chair in the corner of the room.
The bath was prepared with a fancy bottle of wine that sat on the bath rack over the porcelain tub, though you knew neither of you would be drinking with Arthur's current state. The beautiful marble fireplace accentuated with gold trimmings was lit, burning red and orange, dancing over Arthur’s face as he made work of undressing himself.
He untucked the shirt tails of his cotton work shirt from his pants, sliding his suspenders off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the shirt off, placing it onto the chair where his hat resided along with slipping down his pants, leaving him in none other than his union suit.
You watched in awe as your lover stripped down in front of you, the sinewy flesh of his weak muscles flexing as he unbuttoned his union suit, bending down to slide it off his body, leaving him naked as the day he was born.
It was a sad and irresistible picture before your eyes when he turned to face you, his skin ghastly and pale, ribs protruding from his sides and his hips narrow, yet it was still the man you fell for.
He was still the man you loved and adored even in his frail state. Though, his mind was far from frail, strong-willed and a clear thinker more than ever, determined and fighting to ensure those who still had a chance could escape.
And now, sick and ashamed of his body in front of your eyes, you tipped his chin to look at you, placing one hand on his waist, the other hand tracing down the dark trail of hair below his navel to where the hair begins to collect and spread over his pelvis at the base of his sex.
It was the first time he bared himself to you since his diagnosis.
Arthur's breath hitched when you pulled your hand away, redness filling his cheeks, the only drop of colour in his face since his return from Guarma.
“I'm sorry…you gotta see me like this,” he whispered, dropping his head shamefully.
Your brows furrowed as you shook your head, taking his hand in yours.
“Stop with that nonsense, nothin’ to apologize for. I still think you're beautiful, now get in that tub,” you said firmly, gesturing to the hot water.
Arthur swallowed and nodded, lifting his leg over the tub and settling into the hot water, sighing contentedly. The first time he has relaxed in weeks .
You made quick work of your own clothing, unbuttoning your blouse and untying your skirts as they pooled at your feet. You pulled your chemise over your head and pulled your bloomers down your legs, setting your discarded clothing on top of Arthur's once you were naked.
You felt Arthur's eyes on you, following your movements as you removed the bath rack from the tub, setting it onto the floor to allow room for you in the bath.
Arthur swallowed, his gaze tracing every inch of your nude body, hungry and full of love for his gorgeous woman.
You reached behind your neck, about to remove the necklace he gifted you before he interrupted, “leave it on, darlin’. Looks stunnin’ on you.”
Your heart fluttered with warmth for him as you smiled, nodding and stepping into the bathtub facing him, your legs on one side of his own.
On the edge of the tub, he held your hand, threading his fingers with yours as he studied your form, naked and covered in water droplets as the necklace he bought you today decorated your chest, the pendant falling comfortably between your bare breasts. He studied your face, the look of the same love and adoration he felt for you reflected back at him, making him feel a sense of comfort that at least now, even dying, he could share this moment with you. That although you still had a few days to spend together, he could see your naked body again, even if it was the last time before he went.
Thoughts raced through his mind as he sat there with you, soaked in the warm water; he thought of Eliza and Isaac, the family he failed to protect though he swore to do right by them, the events of that fateful day hardening him with pain he knew he would never recover from. He thought of John Marston and Abigail Roberts, along with their innocent little boy Jack Marston, a family that still had a chance to live decent lives, a family that he could at least ensure escaped, a family that would allow Jack to grow up right. Thoughts of Tilly, Mary-Beth and Karen ran through his mind, the poor girls who had nowhere to go, nobody to turn to yet still sucked into this mess, Karen taking it harder than the others.
He thought of Sadie Adler, a woman who had lost everything, her home and her husband, a feeling Arthur could scarcely relate to. Angry, strong-willed but a decent woman nonetheless.
Of course, he thought of the family he wronged most of all, Thomas, Edith and Archie Downes. The family he destroyed inevitably led to his suffering in the end, sealing his fate. He remembered the way Edith looked at him when she saw him in Annesburg; a killer seeking salvation . Oh, he hoped that Downes' widow and Archie had long high-tailed it from Annesburg with the money he gave them.
And of course, he thought of you. The woman he so loved and adored, the woman he would have killed for, would have died for. The woman that mended his broken soul, the woman he had plans to wed once he had enough money to run away and start a new life somewhere. Your soft skin and warm smile, the quiet whispers of ‘I love you ’ when he would fall asleep with your body beside him each night. The moans and breathy gasps of his name when your naked frame was below his, holding your hand as his hips slowly pushed in and out against yours, making love to you all night until the sun came up.
Decide the man you want to be…
Arthur sighed softly, coming back to the present as he took both your hands in his, kissing your fingers softly.
“Listen to me, sweetheart. Can you do somethin’ for me?” he mumbled against your skin.
You leaned in closer to him, nodding your head quickly, knowing you would go to hell and back for your outlaw.
“Anythin’, sweetheart,” you whispered, squeezing his hands.
Arthur sighed, leaning forward to rest his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “when the time comes, promise me that you and Mrs. Adler help John, Abigail and little Jack escape. Promise me,” he whispered, his hands gliding up and down your skin.
You dipped your head down, a lump forming in your throat as you understood what he was asking you, and you would fulfill it though heartbroken by his request, knowing that time was ticking.
“Arthur, I-” you said quietly, tears brimming your eyes.
Arthur shook his head, brushing a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, “you know I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart. I ain't gonna sit here and lie to you but I want you to know…”
Arthur lifted your chin, the salty tears finally bubbling over as they streamed down your cheeks, rippling into the bathwater below. Arthur swiped his thumbs below your eyes, cupping your face in his hands as you held his wrists, sobbing quietly.
“...I want you to know that I love you, my sweet girl. I would've jumped on the opportunity to make you my wife if I could, would've had a family with you. I've done a lot of stupid, foolish things in my life but you, you were the one thing I know I've done right," Arthur whispered, placing a loving kiss on your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears running down your face.
You sobbed harder, shaking your head, your throat hiccuping and your nose sniffling louder, “Oh, Arthur…”
“Don't you ‘oh, Arthur’ me. Now, when you help John and Abigail get out of this mess, promise me you'll be long gone and that you'll take care of yourself. I'll leave you money, but I want you outta here, understand me? If I can…at least give you a life, then…it weren't all for nothin’,” Arthur said softly, dragging you closer to his body.
“Okay, okay. I-I’ll leave, b-but-” you wiped your tears quickly as you tried to compose yourself enough to speak, your lip quivering as you held Arthur's hand, “could you do somethin’ for me?”
“Of course, anythin’ you want, darlin’,” Arthur whispered softly.
“When…we get into our room across the hall, could you make love to me? Please...?” you sighed, taking his hand and moving it up to your right breast as he wasted no time spreading his fingers out to squeeze the soft swell of flesh tenderly. His other hand continued to rest on your cheek as you turned your face, kissing the heel of his palm.
He smiled at you, letting out a soft, breathy laugh, massaging your breast in his hand, “Of course I will, don't needa ask me twice…but we have to be careful, y'know?”
You nodded in understanding. “I know.”
The two of you finally got to washing each other, lathering the soap in your hands as you scrubbed Arthur's scalp, smiling as you saw him relax against the tub with a contented grin. His eyes were closed, breathing softly as you got to scrubbing the rest of his aching limbs, his chest and belly that was so generously dusted with light brown hair.
You washed him lower, towards his most intimate areas, causing a giggle from your lips when he groaned as you brushed your fingertips against the dark curls of hair at the base of his member. You decided to stop teasing him and washed his legs and feet, thoroughly making sure his body was clean.
Arthur returned the favour, scrubbing thoroughly starting with washing your hair before moving down, spending more time lathering your breasts before he moved on to the rest of your body.
Once the both of you were clean, Arthur stepped out of the tub, extending his hand to help you up, lifting your leg out of the tub as well.
You grabbed towels and dried yourselves off, gathering your clothes as you made your way across the hall to your shared room, sloppily dressed knowing the two of you would be discarding your clothes very soon.
You shut the door behind you, leaning against it as Arthur walked up to you, shedding his work shirt and pants, leaving him naked in front of you once again. Softly, slowly- your hands glided over his chest, feeling his tufts of chest hair and collarbones much more prominent now.
Moving downward, your fingers skirted against his navel as he discarded your blouse from your shoulders, pulling your skirts down to pool at your ankles. Arthur placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to the bed as you sat down on the edge of the mattress, your lips chasing his as he pulled away.
“Ain't riskin’ that, my darlin’. I'm sorry. Ain't quite sure how this illness spreads” he rasped, his hands on your shoulders, moving up and down your arms.
Before you could have time to dwell on the fact you could not even kiss your lover, Arthur's lips were on your neck as you closed your eyes, your back slowly hitting the mattress as he settled on top of you.
Your head rested against the pillow, comfortable and warm underneath him as he slowly kissed along your body. Across your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your skin as your arms came around his shoulders, holding him tightly.
You moaned softly as his lips trailed lower, down your collarbone, against the swell of your breasts. It felt like the first time again, the first time you made love together, though now- it could very well be the last time.
You quickly pushed the thought aside as his lips surrounded the bud of your nipple, his tongue laving against it, suckling slow and gentle. His hand reached up and enveloped your other breast, giving it the same attention as his mouth.
With parted lips, you sighed Arthur's name, low and breathless, your fingers running through his sandy locks as he released your nipple from his lips, kissing his way back up your neck.
“You look beautiful tonight, y'know that?” he said tenderly, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek. You smiled and leaned into his touch, his other hand reaching down to play with the necklace still fastened around your neck.
Every touch, every whisper was sweet bliss that ignited in your body, a tingle that would bloom in your belly and spread its way through your whole body. You twirled his hair in your fingers, threading through the wet strands with tenderness.
The familiar dampening between your legs made your breath hitch as your thighs clenched together, relieving the pleasant ache.
You looked up at your lover above you and for the first time in weeks, the first time since he returned from that dreadful island, he looked at peace. Content and happy…
“You look handsome as well. You look…like my dream come true,” your voice cracked as you spoke, pushing down the tears that threatened to flow.
Arthur smiled, his hand cupping your breast again, gently pinching your nipple as he moved down.
Down, lower and lower, down your belly, knuckles brushing against your hip until he was able to nudge your thighs apart, exposing your glistening arousal to his eyes.
His fingertips gently brushed across the dark bush of hair surrounding your sex, your breath hitching as he parted your labia, silky and damp with lust as he kissed your neck and jaw.
“Oh, Arthur,” you whispered, lips parted as you moaned softly, your fingers cradling the back of his neck as his fingers found the swollen bundle of nerves, circling it slowly, gently. Stimulating you in the most wonderful way possible.
You gasped as his fingers twirled around your hooded bead, unhurried and soft. He was taking his time with you, savouring the moment.
It was heaven, sweet ecstasy of being with Arthur intimately, just as it always is.
You tilted your neck to kiss his ear, gasping quietly as you felt the hard line of his erection press into your thigh. Arthur groaned deeply as you felt him rock his hips, desperate for his own stimulation.
But he would wait, if it meant you getting your pleasure. Even in the state he was in, he was still a giver.
His thumb took over the motions of his ring and middle finger, gently massaging your sensitive nub as his fingers moved to your core, tracing the slick rim of your opening.
Your breath hitched as he slowly pressed one finger inside you, his thumb continuing its circular motions on your little nub. His finger curled slightly as he eased another finger inside you, his kisses on your neck not stopping for a moment.
“Does that feel okay, darlin’?” he groaned, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You inhaled deeply, nodding your head as his fingers pushed slowly, in and out of you, his calloused digits brushing against that spongy flesh inside of you that made your body quiver.
“Feels… incredible,” you sighed, raising your hips slightly as his fingers continued to work your body.
“I-I wanna please you too, honey,” you mumbled, pulling his face from your neck as you looked into his watery eyes, bloodshot at the corners yet somehow did not take away from the beautiful pools of aquamarine irises.
Oh, how you would love to swim in his eyes.
Arthur chuckled, curling his fingers inside you playfully, urging a groan of pleasure from your lips. “I'll get my pleasure, darlin’, don't you worry. Just relax now, sweet girl,” Arthur muttered, running the fingers of his free hand through your hair as he kisses your temple.
Your eyes fluttered as your hips raised and lowered with each pleasurable touch of his fingers, allowing soft moans to escape your lips. Arthur pulled away to watch your breasts rise and fall with each deep inhale, the pendant of your necklace shimmering under the firelight.
You whine at the emptiness of his fingers being extracted from your body, your mind coming back to the present as he leaned over you on his forearm, grabbing the base of his hardened sex as he positioned it in between your legs.
You whimper, tucking your head into his neck as you felt the hard line of him against the damp lips of your womanhood. Slowly, he slipped himself into you, easing himself into your body as you welcomed him in, the soft groaning from his chest urging a sound of pleasure from your own lips.
“Oh, Christ, ” he muttered, one arm linked underneath your body, the other beside your head, gripping the soft pillow below you.
Even in his pleasure, you could hear the crackle of his weakening lungs, desperately trying to keep up with him.
“Are you okay, Arthur?” you whispered concerned, wrapping your legs around his hips as he rocked, back and forth into your warmth. Oh, so slowly he rocked and thrusted into you, taking as much time as he could.
He nodded, burying his face into your neck, groaning with each push forward into your body.
“I'm- mmph- I'm fine, sweetheart. You just feel…so good,” he moaned, holding you tight to his feeble body.
Your arms wrapped around him tightly, holding him close to you as if he would wither away if you did not have him in your embrace.
He pulled away from you to lay above you on his forearms, taking a look at your beautiful face with each deep, gentle thrust of his hips.
Your cheeks flushed red and eyes heavy, lips parted as soft gasps spilled from your mouth.
What a sight you were to behold below him.
He was rewarded with a curl of your lips, a soft smile as you leaned forward, kissing his forehead sweetly.
“I'm gonna…miss you dearly, Arthur,” you whispered, the tone of your voice teetering between sadness and pleasure. “I love you, my darlin’. I'll never forget you.”
Wetness brimmed your eyes as he continued to push back and forth, slow and steady, leaning in to kiss away the tears spilling from your eyes.
“Don't start with that, I ain't gone yet. And when I die, I'll wait for you. I ain't a religious man but…we'll meet again,” he whispered, his voice wavering, his own tears streaming down his cheeks.
In that moment, for the first time ever, you witnessed Arthur Morgan cry.
It was a bittersweet image above you, a hardened man, a man who saw pain and hurt yet trusted you enough to give you his tears. You cupped his cheeks, brushing away the droplets from his eyes.
He pressed his forehead against yours, reaching down below where you were connected, thrusting slow and steady to rub at your sensitive hooded bead once again, your fingers gripping tight on his shoulders.
The hitch of your breath, the subtle clench of your walls around his member buried inside you told him you were close. So very close…
“ Arthur,” you whispered as your climax washed over you, the gentle bliss of pleasure, a small push over the edge. You spasmed and fluttered around him, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts, the warm clench of you proving to be too much as his release followed close behind. His orgasm bloomed within you, releasing bursts of his warm spend into your body as he pushed once, twice, then stilled.
You smiled as he tucked his face beside your head, into the pillow below you, taking time to catch his breath.
“You okay?” you whispered softly, your hands gently gliding up and down his back.
Arthur wheezed softly, pulling out of you and rolling onto his back, satisfied and content, though taking a moment to compose himself.
“I'm fine, sweetheart. Just…need a moment,” he whispered, shutting his eyes as he caught his breath.
You got up from the bed, collecting a damp cloth from the wash basin on the vanity table, dabbing it over his softening member to clean him up.
He winced slightly at the oversensitivity, but felt grateful nonetheless that you were taking the time to clean him up. You dabbed yourself between your legs and discarded the cloth back on the basin, knowing you would clean it tomorrow.
Arthur began to quickly tuck himself beneath the covers, shivering as he held the blankets up to his chin. He closed his eyes as you returned to his side, your heart melting at how comfortable he looked nestled in blankets but concerned over the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“You feeling feverish, sweetheart?” you whispered, brushing his hair back to feel his forehead, making sure it was not hot. His forehead was warm, but nothing to be too concerned over.
Arthur shook his head, “just chilly, that's all,” he mumbled. “Don't- don't worry about me.”
You furrowed your brows and walked over to your satchel, grabbing a canteen of water, tonic, and some salted beef as a snack for Arthur.
Returning to the bed, you sat beside him and handed him the food and water, patting his hair gently. “Eat something, sweetheart.”
Arthur sighed and nodded, taking small bites of the beef you handed him, taking a few minutes to finish it.
“Thank you,” he mumbled as you gave him a sip of water from the canteen, setting it on the night table.
“You need any tonic, an extra blanket, my love? I'll leave this tonic on the nightstand if you need it.” you mumbled, kissing his forehead.
“An extra blanket would be nice but…you don't needa trouble yoursel-” Arthur stuttered, before you cut him off, finding a large quilt in the chest at the foot of the bed.
“Oh, hush. Here,” you said insistently, draping the blanket over his body, tucking him in.
Arthur blushed a soft pink, snuggling below the blankets as you settled in beside him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him close to your breast.
“You…don't needa do all that, darlin’,” he chuckled, smiling fondly. “I'm fine.”
You felt him wrap his arms around you, hugging you close as he rested his cheek on your breast, shaking your head with a smile as you could see how much he enjoyed being taken care of. He was a man who took care of everybody else, it was only fair that you would return the favour to him.
You rolled your eyes playfully, running your fingers through his hair.
“That smile on your face says otherwise,” you replied playfully, kissing his hair.
Arthur cracked open an eye at you, grinning at your teasing remark before shutting his eyes and settling back into your body again. “Just enjoyin' the warmth of my lady, that's all,” he mumbled, his face buried into your chest.
You traced your fingers down his back, curling up to him closer, savouring every second you could get with him.
“Well, you can enjoy it all you want. We still got a few days off together, no?” you mumbled, stroking his back with a gentle touch.
You could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, content and happy in your arms, knowing that he chose to give you as much of his vanishing time as he could.
“Yes, we do and I plan on makin’ the most of every single minute with you.”
I'm not crying at all 😭It's a very beautiful story, full of tenderness, regret, sadness 🥺 There is a sentence that struck me "Oh, how he would miss the smell of you in the afterlife". My heart broke into pieces reading it, it brought me back to the pain of the last part of chapter 6, where Arthur is really at his worst with his illness, with remorse eating away at him, and the awareness of his imminent death.
You gave us a wonderful reading, a beautiful moment for Arthur in the company of the woman he loves to enjoy a few moments of happiness before the final act 💛Thank you !
i know i said i was taking a break from tumblr for a bit, but this message was lovely and i had to share it :) thank you so so so so much! this is so unbelievably sweet and gives me motivation to continue writing❤️❤️
i might need a break from the red dead fandom and tumblr in general (i promise yall i will come back, dw. i need to showcase my love for this cowboy game w SOMEONE😭😭😭) i've been p busy lately and ngl...i forgot how much this fandom stuff is kinda draining. i'll probably pop in here and there but...yea. just been busy lately 👍👍
on a short hiatus :) @subpopizzy - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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