marigold-field

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obsessed

Hi love!!

Could you do John Marston relationship headcanons?

A/N: I wasn’t sure if you wanted pre-epilogue or post epilogue John so I did both! I’ve kept this vanilla as I never want to add spice when it’s not specifically requested.

Credits: Images are not mine! I found them on pinterest.

Pre-Epilogue

✨ John is hesitant in getting into a ‘relationship’ with you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he thinks it will complicate things. For almost his whole life he had grown up with the law on his back yet carefree with no fear of consequence. Arthur had always been there to get him out of trouble. Officially getting into a relationship with you would mean risks; facing consequences for his own actions. He would be tied to you, albeit not marriage, but the beginnings of something which could turn more serious. Arthur would word it as – John would have to actually think for himself – which secretly scares John.

✨ In the end, John agrees to making things more official between you both; only because the thought of you being with someone else makes him irritatingly jealous. Seeing Kieran talk to you about the horses, Charles saying hello to you, even Arthur just asking if you’re okay. Micah was where he drew the line. He didn’t trust him around you, even within the safety of the camp. John would keep you close, although he wouldn’t be very affectionate in the beginning. He’s awkward to first be around. He’ll walk over to where you’re sitting and plop down beside you in complete silence. No matter how much you try to talk to him, he won’t talk back – he’s too focused on guarding you. In the end, it takes some reassurance from you to make him realise that you’re stronger than you look and don’t need constant protection and surveillance. Especially from Micah. But you appreciate John’s worry all the same.

✨ The more John is around you, the more he begins to mature. You teach him things that even Dutch and Hosea could never think of. You have a unique way of making him see things in a different light. His perspective on things around him slowly changes. In the past he would look at the skyline and just see day and night. Now, he sees colour. The moon and stars. The rays of the setting sun. The importance of appreciating the present because there is no promise for tomorrow. From just being around you, the world is now a little more meaningful than aimless bloodshed and money. It’s a world that you live in and he wants you to live in it as long as possible.

Post Epilogue

✨ After Arthur’s sacrifice, John swears to give you the life you deserve. He admits he hasn’t been the best partner to you and that he will spend the rest of his life making it up to you. You stuck by him through the whole mess with Dutch. You let him live his outlaw life – the least he could do was let you live yours. He even asked you if you wanted him in your life, to which you responded “You stupid man, John Marston. Of course I do.” He’d smile to himself. “Yer’ too good for me, ya know that?”

✨ John begins to wear his heart on his sleeve for you. You didn’t even need to ask him to. Whenever you’re quiet, he will now sit beside you and talk to you. Even if you say you don’t want to talk, he will gently grab your chin to make you look at him and softly explain that he’s not leaving you until you let him know what’s troubling you. He may not be a good listener, even impatient at times, but he’s a doer and will actively try to do things that will help solve the situation. Did someone talk to you nasty? He’ll be having a few words with them. You missing his company? He’ll spend the rest of the night holding you close to his chest. You feeling sick? He’ll be being every tonic and bitters from the doctors, along with your favourite food from the general store. John will even bring back a basket of apples. “What’s this, John?” “Apples. ‘Supposed to keep the doctor away… or somethin’…”

✨ This cowboy will insist on taking you out on the weekends. Even if you insist you just want to spend some alone time with him, he’ll remind you that a lady such as yourself should be experiencing the best things in life, even if the time period contradicted this. If he can help it, he will accompany you to do the things you have always wanted to do. You want to travel overseas? He’ll find a boat unlike Dutch. You want to dress up pretty and go to a ball? He’ll be right by your side in a suit and rent a hotel room nearby so you could drink as much alcohol as you wanted and not worry about the journey back. Or at least not worry about getting John back. Most drunken nights involved John leaning against you as you walked him back to his bed. You want to see the fantastic views the world has to offer? John will have you seated on his horse, Rachel, and will take you to those places himself. He doesn’t care the distance – he will go as far as he needs for your eyes to see those wondrous views. All these things are worth doing to him because it means he gets to see you happy. He made a vow to Arthur to live his life and he would make sure to do that, as long as it involved you living yours.

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How much harm have they done to this man for him to think that with that face, that body, that heart, he is someone ugly, stupid and difficult to love?

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The volleyball scene in top gun is so insanely funny to me because there’s goose, who’s properly dressed for a day at the beach…

…and then you have Mr. jeans and the sweatpants twins

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https://www.tumblr.com/marigold-field/772702820345561088/headcanon-for-best-friend-dick-grayson-who-has-a

I loved it!! I’m so glad I got to be your first! <3

thank you!! i’m so happy you liked it :)

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i lost the submission from the person who requested this :( so sorry! but a wonderful idea <3 not proofread b/c i wrote this quickly between classes

CW: uncomfortable interaction with a stranger, insecurity

John Marston x Shy!Reader

- John Marston likes to consider himself a man of many words. Considering his never-lacking ability to relentlessly conjure up snarky remarks, sarcastic observations, and his fearlessness in expressing unpopular opinion; many would agree that he is, indeed.

- So it was not only to the others shock, but also to his, that he found himself so devastatingly enamored by you

- Make no mistake, you were absolutely gorgeous in every way. Tastefully styled hair that perfectly framed your face, enhancing your seemingly perfect features, and a wardrobe that perfectly accentuated your figure; you looked fresh out of a beauty catalogue

- So, it was a no brainer that John would fall for a pretty girl like you. No, absolutely not. It was something else…you were so quiet and shy

- Always keeping to yourself, avoiding eye contact, responding in head nods more often than words, and heat instantly rising to your face anytime someone paid extra attention to you

- You weren’t exactly John’s usual type, per say

- But that’s what made him like you

- And he wasn’t the only one guilty of having confusing feelings

- Though you were more certain he’d rather spend his life entertaining working girls rather than give you the time of day. Especially when you considered your shy nature in comparison to his blatantly bold one

- However, you couldn’t have been more wrong

- He loved keeping his eyes trained on you from across the camp and seeing the way you’d get flustered, picking at your sleeves while looking away anytime you realized he was looking at you

- Compliments often rolled off the tongue awkwardly as he tried his best to determine what you would or wouldn’t be comfortable with

- Either way, you’d blush fiercely and stroke John’s ego by doing so

- He was definitely a fool in love

- You were everything he’d ever wanted and he was dead set on making you his and him being yours

- To say the least, he felt protective over you. Though unclear and unaddressed, you were his girl and may God bless anyone trying to get between that

- Due to your timidness, you were an unexpected threat and a perfect fit for picking up leads and, on occasion, pickpocketing

- You and John got sent out to town to poke around the locals and find out anything thst would be possibly helpful

- Sitting in a bar stool with John monitoring you from a booth behind you, you quietly nursed your drink while listening to the conversation two men were having next to you.

- However, things quickly escalated when you caught the attention of one of them

- With a cocky smirk and bushy, wiggling eyebrows, he leaned close to your ear

- Your breath hitched as he drunkenly slurred something about how “a dame like you shouldn’t drink alone”

- Before you could even think about what to do, John inserted himself between you two and pushed the man back

- “Get the hell away, fool. I suggest you go on ‘bout your business ‘fore things real ugly in here.” he warned, his tone intimidating.

- The man waved his hand in defeat and hobbled away with his friend without another thought.

With his back still facing you, you rested a soft hand on his bicep to get his attention. He spun around instantly, nearly falling on you with his speed. “Sorry you had to deal with that. I shoulda’ told Dutch I’d take this one solo,” he stopped to hesitantly rest his calloused hand against the soft of your cheek, “you okay?”

You were sure that your face was a deep crimson color as you processed the sudden contact in your head. John’s gaze softened as he took the moment to fully ingest the sight before him.

Staring into his deep eyes as you felt your body get warmer at the sight of who was supposed to be one of the strongest men you know, look at down at you with such worry and softness. “Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you so much, John.” you whispered. With your glossy eyes staring up at him, plush lips partly agape, and no intention of moving away from his touch, He was awestruck. John was sure that he’d tell off a million more men if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life seeing you stare at him like this.

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Okie do you have any head canons for maybe Jason with a reader who is like maybe burnout /exhausted

…I’m projecting but that’s ok

If you don’t I totally get it and hope you have a good day !!! ✨✨

a/n: thank you for your request! i definitely got carried away…slightly self indulgent 😭. i’m obsessed with jason being a softie

- jason todd was no stranger to the overwhelming feeling of being stuck in a position of little to no upward movement. that feeling of consistent failure to find joy in the things that should be enjoyable

- so, it didn’t take long for him to notice that you, his loving girlfriend, was going through a rough patch

- you had been drowning in work—either from school or from your job—and felt as though the pressure was 100% on you

- with no motivation whatsoever, that work continued to pile and it got harder and harder to get through the days

- fearful of adding onto the burden you knew Jason carried on his shoulders, you did your best to hide it

- over the last week and a half he had came home to you with your face in your hands, crying like there was no tomorrow, more times than he felt comfortable

- you’d immediately sit up, wipe your face, and chuckle as you said it was just because you’d watched a sad movie or finished a sad book

- he could see right through you (i mean, he was trained to be an expert at analyzing situations and he wasn’t born last night)

- instead of asking you a multitude of questions, he’d just hug you and assure you that he was there to comfort you

- on the third instance of this, jason had concocted a plan to try and make you feel better

- he’d leave gorgeous flower arrangements in the vase on your desk, complete with a note card in his scraggly handwriting

- he’d began leaving messages in the margins of notebook paper strewn across your desk, saying things you’d only ever read in Jane Austen novels

- every night he’d hold you tighter than he usual does, allowing you to completely melt into the warmth of his strong and muscular embrace

- one night during dinner he’d finally muster up the courage to ask you what it was that had been bothering you

- slightly hesitant, you let the flood gates open and began rambling off all the thoughts you’d been holding in

- though he struggled with vulnerability, he knew he had to be strong for you. while powdering you with light kisses, running his calloused fingers through your hair, and holding your hand tightly, you eventually dozed off with your head resting against his broad shoulder

- he looked down at you with a lovesick look and vowed to do whatever he could to never have you go through struggles like this alone, ever

i love him so much AHH!! i hope you enjoyed <3 critiques and comments welcome!

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Headcanon for best friend dick Grayson who has a crush on you but you don’t know (can you include some jealousy blurbs?)

Thanks!

- Best Friend!Dick Grayson who harbors romantic feelings for you is just as chaotic as you’d expect

- You guys have such a close relationship. One of those ones where you feel you can tell each other anything and embarrassment doesn’t seem to exist when you two are together

- This was great first, until Dick realized his true feelings for you. Now it seemed as though flirting would be impossible, everything said being interpreted as a joke

- Definitely compliments you shamelessly, not only to send you a hint but also because he loves your reactions

“Man, you’re beautiful, ya know.” he said, yawning and stretching as he spoke to try his hardest to make his subtly flirtatious comment seem casual. Your focus immediately turned to him, a smile lighting up your face as you looked into his blue eyes in the mirror. The warmth that crept up to your cheeks was evident. You chuckled, “you’re not too bad yourself, Dicky.” He swears he almost had a heart attack.

- You guys often spend most of your time in each other’s company. Whether it’s dragging Dick along on your shopping trips (he will go out of his way to carry all your bags), last minute restaurant visits (he’ll be a total gentlemen; pushing your chair in for you, paying for the meal, holding the door), or just lounging around your apartment (he spends this time admiring all the bits of your personality he can’t seem to learn enough about), you two are inseparable.

- Let’s just say, you’ve definitely had a couple failed attempts at relationships because the guys/girls quickly picked up on your “friendship” with Dick.

- Those situations often left you confused, asking millions of questions and attempting to explain that two of you are just friends. They say something along the lines of, “Keep telling yourself that, you’ll see!”

- Unfortunately for Dick, as your “best friend”, he has had to witness many date night preparations and spent the entire time hoping that one day he’ll be the one you’re picking out dresses and makeup inspo for.

with mountains of clothes across the floor, haphazard piles of strappy heels askew, and lord knows how many purses littered across the floor; it appeared as though a tornado passed through your room. Dick sat criss-cross on top of a pile of cocktail dresses and watched as you continued to rummage through your closet, mumbling curses about how you didn’t know if it was a formal or casual kind of night. you were getting ready for a date with some guy from your book club. obviously, Dick was far from enthusiastic. he felt helpless. the woman he loved more than anything was getting ready to meet a guy that he knew, and Dick swears he’s not biased, could never make you as happy as he could. the thought of this guy holding your hand across the table, making you laugh at his jokes, and even leaning in for a kiss, made his stomach churn.

you suddenly turned around to face him, holding a deep blue sequined dress against you body, asking him if he thought it’d be a good choice. he couldn’t help but frown as he attempted to come up with a half-assed response. “it looks great, but maybe you should look for something more comfortable? don’t want you to be in itchy clothes for hours.” he mumbled, trying to come up with an excuse to keep you home for as long as possible. maybe even make you late—force you to cancel the date. however, you were far from dumb and had known Dick for too long to not notice something was bothering him. you threw the dress down on to the floor, allowing it to join the mess of your wardrobe, and dropped to your knees to make eye contact with him. you reached for his large hand as you studied his face, searching for signs of disdain or discomfort with squinted eyes. “what’s wrong? did i do something? i’m sorry to drag you into my mess.” you rambled, words coming out all at once. he immediately shook his head, “no, it’s not you—i promise. i’m here because i want to be,” he paused, “i just wonder if things could be different.”

you raised an eyebrow before speaking, “sorry, i’m not following?” he stood up then, rubbing his hand down his face as he walked to the other side of your room. you jumped up after him, following him and reaching to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Dick, don’t do this to me. this isn’t fair and you know it. i can’t help you if you don’t speak to me.” you whispered, your calm voice easing the tension he felt building inside him. reluctantly, he let out an exasperated sigh before speaking. “look, i don’t need help okay—it’s not anything like that. we can talk later i guess, i’ll leave so you can go on your date.” he spared you one last glance before walking out the room. knowing how stubborn he is, all you could do was remind him that you’d always be there to listen before letting him go on his way.

- after an interaction like this, he became noticeably distant as if he was hiding something. you definitely started to put the pieces together around this time

- i imagine you two having a movie night in your apartment when you find yourself more focused on him than the movie. stolen glances between you two, silently hoping the other would have a sudden surge of confidence and say those three words

- as you went to take another sneaky glance at him, you’re met with his eyes pouring back into yours

- wordlessly, he places hand on your cheek and leans in for a tender kiss

- albeit shocked, you quickly begin to kiss back and lean into his touch

- you two only stop when you realize you need to breathe, but not straying far from each other as your foreheads touched

- “i love you, dick.” you whisper, so quiet he almost misses it.

- the cheeky grin that appears on his face causes you to both giggle

a/n: I loved writing this! it’s my first time posting my writing of any sort so feel free to leave critiques and comments <3

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i wanna do headcanons😋!! if you come across this, feel free to leave requests in my asks for any fandom/character in the tags :3

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i need arthur and john fic/blog recs right neowwwwwwww someone please help😞🙏🏽

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HIIIII FRIEND

how are you?????? Long time no talk, I missed you sm🤍

How’s life treating you?🤍

HII LOVE OMG

i’m doing well!! so happy to hear from my favorite mutual :)

i’ve been enjoying this much needed winter break from uni, but the snow storm passing through my area has been so bad 😅. i hope you’re doing well!! what have you been up to?

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i need him so bad bye😭

NSFW ALPHABET: JOHN MARSTON

MINORS DNI // 18+ ONLY

🍂

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

• a little quiet, using the moment to catch his breath and adjust himself.

• he’d probably clean you with the closest thing to him (his bandanna, whatever clothes surround you).

• will pull you under his arm and caress your waist while enjoying the silence.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

• John probably has low self esteem because of his scars so he doesn’t really think of himself as attractive.

• ( likes his hands and fingers when teasing you during foreplay: “ Hmm, this pussy gets so tight roun’ my fingers.” ).

• Your breasts!! no matter the size, shape, or color, he will definitely grab them any chance he gets.

• Loves to lay his head between them when you two are alone!!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

• will definitely come close to cumming inside you sometimes.

• cums on your chest because he loves seeing his spend drip down your nipples, off your breasts, on your thighs.

• (^^ especially if you’re holding your breast and his cum gets on your fingers!!).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• wants to cum inside because he wants to feel your pussy milk his cock while being fully wrapped in your warmth.

• LOVES when you beg and whine a little during sex. (when you say to him, “mmm, you’re so big inside me!!” , “oh John, please fuck me faster!).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

• Yes, but I don’t think he’s very confident in his abilities.

• Learned through working girls in whatever town was closest to camp in his wild and adventurous youth. (obviously excluding Abigail from this)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

• The Pretzel Drip!!

• Fucking your leaking heat as you look in his eyes while he plays with your breasts, pinching your nipples.

• Spreads your legs wild open so he can lean over your body and nip on your nipples while fucking you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

• Probably starts with some snarky remarks that get outta hand between you two and he gets flustered then takes you somewhere more private.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

• probably average based on his hair length and stubble.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

• cautious and definitely waits for you to give him signals to keep going or stop, (especially when you guys first start sleeping together).

• focuses on you more during foreplay because he loves teasing you and gets a little pussy-drunk when inside you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

• Simple answer, no. John would probably wait until you two are alone.

• BUT… if you’re gone on a job or hunt and he’s been drinking that night??

• He’ll fantasize about you, thinking about your little noises and slick heat. Quickly snaps out of it and rushes to his tent. Palms himself before impatiently pulling out his cock.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

• Cockwarming: LOVES having you completely wrapped himself and feeling your wet pussy clenched down

• Teasing: not necessarily him making fun of you but more so YOUR reactions to him and what he says.

• Titjob: when he’s sitting down and you’re kneeling in front of him, jerking your breasts up and down his cock while lickin his tip, it will take everything in him not to bust.

• Exhibitionism: in the form of quickies in the sense that, if John sees a chance with you in an alleyway, secluded train car, or in the open woods.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

• In a real bed preferably at a hotel or cabin, so you guys can also be away from the gang for total privacy.

• (but if the opportunity presents itself, he’ll snatch it so damn fast).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

• Honestly, attention from you turns him on, ( gets in his own head and likes when you ground him).

• if you wear a shirt/dress with a low-cut or a few top buttons undone, he can’t help but stare before noticing he’s hard.

• When you’re a little mad because then when you two fuck, you’ll be on top and he’ll be playing with your breasts, (win-win in his eyes).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• Causing any pain to the point where it actually harms you (would feel very guilty and somewhat reclusive about sex until you reassure him).

• Anything that would de-masculine him, (because he’s a bit self conscious) so pegging or being tied up.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• personally receiving because he loves it when your tongue twists around his shaft (thinks your mouth feels so nice and warm, and whines a little when he hits the back of your throat).

• If he’s giving then his tongue will go down to your opening and tease it then clamps his mouth around your clit, harshly sucking on it before devouring you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

• Usually faster because he gets off to your noises and breasts bouncing up and down. He works you open with fingers while teasing your clit, making sure you’re dripping before shoving his cock inside you and setting a quick rhythm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• happens when there’s a safe opportunity.

• he LOVES them because he can be in any mood and feel instantly better if he gets to feel you dripping down him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

• With both your lifestyles, you two constantly are risking your necks, so I don’t think so.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

• He can last about 3-4 rounds before needing a break.

• Usually holds himself off and waits for you to finish at least once or twice before he cums.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

• it’s 1899, so no.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

• When fingering you, he LOVES to tease since he lives for the noises you make, the feeling of your hot, slick pussy between his fingers, your hands gripping his arm and blankets.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• He really does try to be quiet when you guys are in camp.

• But alone: the sound of grunts, raspy pants and his teasing can be heard among you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

• Whenever you whine, sometimes John teases your moans with a “yeah?” In a deep raspy voice.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• 7 ½ inches, average thickness with prominent veins

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

• Pretty average and would get higher after you guys are together.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• Either stays awake longer than you do, thinking about you, whatever’s happening to the gang, or himself

• Or instantly curls beside you so he can feel your warmth and softness against him.

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Van der Linde Gang boys with a boy cat that growls when they get close to you.

Gang Members: Arthur Morgan, Bill Williamson, John Marston, Dutch Van der Linde, Kieran Duffy, Sean MacGuire, Micah Bell.

Tags: Fluff, GN Reader, protective tuxedo boy cat, I don't know how to tag.

Arthur Morgan

Surprised at first, he's seen a dog get protective over his owners...but a cat? That was surprising. "Oh my gosh!" you say, quickly picking Shadow up, the tuxedo glared his green eyes at him but then swiped his head over your chin.

"He has never done that, I don't know what's gotten into him." You drop Shadow onto the couch and Arthur chuckles "It's fine, darlin' I'm jus' glad you have someone to protect you while I'm not here," he said, cautiously glancing at tiny menace now and then.

Bill Williamson

Bill wasn't a cat person before and now that your cat growled at him, he definitely wasn't one now.

"Sorry," you chuckle nervously, "He does that a lot, he's just really protective." Bill shrugs "S'fine," he says, his gruff voice trying to hide that he was in fact, hurt by a cat growling at him when he was just trying to kiss you.

John Marston

He wasn't that surprised, you warned him that your cat can get a bit protective and doesn't really like men so when he tried to sit beside you on the couch and your cat growled and swiped at him, he didn't really care.

"Where'd you get him, anyways?" John asked, as your cat was curled up on your lap.

"I found him in the shed one night, poor thing was weak and hurt," you said, scratching his chin, which earned you a purr.

Dutch Van der Linde

His ego was hurt ngl.

He thought everyone and every animal liked him until your cat growled once he stepped foot into your homestead. "Seems like your cat has a problem with me," Dutch chuckles, although he was wary.

"Don't take it personally," you tell him, scooping Shadow in your arms, "He does it to everyone, it just takes him some time to warm up."

Dutch nodded "I suppose I can understand that," he says, "I'll win him over eventually."

Kieran Duffy

Kieran considers himself a devoted animal lover so when you told him about your cat prior to coming over, he was ecstatic and ready to befriend the little guy.

Until that "little guy" turned out to be a 12 pound tom cat that started letting out deep growls whenever he got a few inches close to you.

Kieran frowned a bit and when you noticed you immediately said "It's not your fault, Kieran, he acts like that with everyone, especially strangers." Kieran understood but everytime he tried to kiss or cuddle with you in the bed and Shadow growled at him, he would get more annoyed than hurt.

Micah Bell

Micah instantly glared his eyes at him, the cats low growls didn't sway him.

"Sorry," you chuckle, scooping Shadow into your arms, "He's like that with everyone if he doesn't know them." Shadow tail swayed back and forth, but you let him jump onto the couch and led Micah so you two could sit together.

Once Micah sat beside you and put his hand on your thigh, Shadow hissed and darted onto your lap. Micah let out a low chuckle and looked at the mangy creature on your lap before speaking.

"You know, at least me and that cat have one thing in common," he begins.

"Oh yeah?" you ask, "What's that?"

"Protecting you."

Sean MacGuire

"Who's this then?" Sean asks, bending down to get a closer look at your cat, who was narrowing his eyes at you and wrapping his body around your legs.

"Shadow, but uh...he's not really soft on men," you warned, moving out of the way so both Sean and Shadow could have a better look at eachother.

Shadow growls right after Sean tries to pet him and Sean jerks his hand back.

"A bit of a temper, eh? Should’ve known better than to mess with a cat like that," Sean says, standing up. He clicks his tongue, looking at you with a raised brow. "Maybe he’s just worried I’ll steal you away, eh?"

You roll your eyes and link your arm around his, "You wish, MacGuire."

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Arthur Morgan lookalike contest in my apartment

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i lowkey wanna start writing fanfics, but i don’t know where or how to start. any advice?? much respect to any and all fanfic writers reading this <3

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nothing, and i mean NOTHING, compares to joining a new fandom and reading through all the ____ x reader tags. it’s akin to opening gifts on christmas or recieving a package in the mail. actually, scratch that; it’s th equivalent of ascending to the heavens

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i love this sm

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚���⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆