#Sean macguire fanfic

[johnmarstonswife]

Partners in Crime till’ the Day we Die #1

꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ

Chapter one: Second Chances

fandom : red dead redemption online & 2 pairing : sean macguire x f!reader word count : ~2,300 rating : mature warnings : minor coarse language, mentions of hanging and murder, opening spoilers for red dead online summary : you escape Sisika Penitentiary from your wrongful hanging with the help of a stranger— who happens to be more connected with your situation than you thought.

a/n : hey !! thank you for choosing to read my first fanfic and first chapter of this story <3 ive been absolutely OBSESSED with sean lately and starting this feeds my addiction, so i hope this does too for you ! sadly, this chapter does not feature sean yet its basically all lore and story, but stay tuned for when our favourite irishman appears 🫶

꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ

The air was hazy from the saw dust and various other debris flying around. The burning hot sun beamed into the gravel and unkept grass beneath your feet. Stone walls encase you as you hack into the stone pathway with no avail. Working on something which you’re not even sure what it is. Mindlessly hacking at the stone, which stays unchanging no matter how much you swing the hammer as sweat beads at your forehead. This never ending hell, was Sisika Penitentiary. An isolated island for criminals and outlaws alike.

Suddenly, a guard walks up, watching the you and the other prisoners labour with construction. The guard’s voice speaks up with conviction, “You.” He points at a prisoner sweeping the cobble, “You.” He points again at another person. Picking people out at random from the dozen of prisoners. Like some sort of wealthy widow picking out clothing in a tailor. “You with the hammer… and you, you’ll do.” He says, finger pointed at you as you stop mining. Swiping the glistening sweat off your forehead and looking up, feeling the itchy clothing of the striped uniform on your sticky skin as you listen to the guard speak— god these guard’s voices were irritating.

“We need to perform a work detail out near Tumbleweed. Come on get in.” He instructs, walking over to the caged wagon and swinging open the creaking open the metal gate. The three other prisoners swiftly make their way to the cage, climbing in and taking their seats. You follow close behind, climbing in too. You don’t really care where you’re heading, as long as you get out of this miserable place, it’ll be better than nothing.

Shutting the doors, the two guards hop on the front and whip the coach out the large steel gates, out of the massive, thick stone walls that confined you and out onto the bridge. On the way out of the island. As you and the other prisoners ride in the back, You could only think of how long this journey will be. Sisika, all the way to Tumbleweed? That’s basically across the country. But, what were you to complain? You were out. More of a chance to escape your wrongful conviction.

And you were sure right. The ride was long, but the new scenery was a welcome change of pace, finally seeing large green fields and houses other than dusty cells and unkept gardens— if you could call them that. The guards talked on about some random things you couldn’t care to listen to. The usual bickering of a guard and prisoner, and the rolling of the wheels on the dirt road, bumping slightly over a rock here and there. As well as a couple sexist comments from the guard as you physically try to not roll your eyes into the back of your head. Hopefully it’ll be over soon. Though, seeing out the bars of the cage; out at the vast, grassy, green plains of the Heartlands— it was going to be a long while. Though you already knew that, the confirmation still wasn’t pleasant.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ 𓃵𓃶𓃵𓃚 ⛰︎ ོ ༄ ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

If the sun wasn’t already blazing, it was even more boiling than before and twice as much arid. Dusty green, prickly cactus and vast desert surround you and your back seems to ache from the long ride and sitting on mere wood; more than it did when you were axing at stone back at the penitentiary. This long of a ride, this landscape, and this weather? This was New Austin alright. Your dry, blistering hot, desert home. Where you grew up as a young lass. But before you could reminisce any longer, the wheels roll slow and come to a stop in the middle of the long dirt road— which seemed to go on forever past the mesas and valleys of rocky, orange desert.

“Good day gentleman.” An unfamiliar voice speaks, calm but assertive. You manage to push your head against the metal cage and peer out the side, just barely able to peer out at the older man leisurely leaning against the door of a fancy looking stagecoach blocking the road, rifle in hand. The older man warns, “Don’t do anything stupid, nobody gets shot.” As two other armed men, covering their identities with red bandanas came out the back, pointing a repeater to the guards driving the wagon at the top.

Witnessing this, your heart was racing. Is this really happening? Hope filled your body as the main man and company steps closer to the wagon that was holding you and your fellow inmates captive. Are you finally going to be set free? You thought to yourself; in any other situation, this would be terrifying, but this, oh this was just brilliant.

The older, main man asks for the guards names politely and out of courtesy— though it was not needed as armed men threatening you in the middle of the desert wouldn’t care all too much about the names of the people they’re holding at gunpoint. “Now what are your names?” He ‘asks’ in a light, non threatening tone, which was actually very threatening considering the situation. The guard that was yapping his trap the whole time lifts his hands slightly up in defence, “Jenkins, and Milliken.” He answers, gesturing to himself and to his partner in law, never putting his left hand down to ought to not get shot. The man tells them to throw their guns down and get out of their seats. They comply, stepping down with their arms up as the man continues on to threat, in a stern, but not aggressive manner. But, the words your ears basically perk up on was hearing the gentleman ask— no, demand, “Let em’ out. Now! Please.”

Yours and everyone else’s in that cage eyes glimmered with hope. Sure enough, the guards walk cautiously to the back of the wagon where the door was, fumbling his silver and brass keys, inserting the metal into the keyhole— and unlocks it. The doors fling open and the prisoners accompanying you and yourself sit your hands up to make sure you don’t get shot by these armed men. You don’t know what they are going to do with you and everyone else, or why they stopped the wagon, but sure as hell shouldn’t assume you all were safe all too soon.

“You all run away.” The same man tells the lot of you, rifle leaning on his well dressed shoulder. The bandanna-ed company behind still, pointing their guns and looking tough. You wasn’t dumb enough to find out if they were all they were worked up to be or not though. Before you or the others could get out the god forsaken cage, the man points his finger at you as he peers in. “Aside from you.” He finished, as if you were again, picked out by random.

God, you thought to yourself, your luck was just amazing. You could have been free if you just avoided eye contact. The man goes on to say how this is good fortune for all of you and tells Jenkins and Milliken to run away in a threat and dreadful glare. The two comply and start running off to who knows where into the endless desert. Before you could even get out the cage, the man talks about his payment to the two bandanna-ed, menacing men. Paying the two fifty each. Fifty each? This man must be rich. Hell, you’re either in really good hands or really bad hands if he would pay 100 American dollars just for this. He again, tells the two to get out of here and thanks them, “My employer and I appreciate your professionalism.”

A hired man replies, “All we did was stand there and look tough.” He says with a mix of surprise and confusion.

“And you did it fantastically well.” The man answers with a quip. The two hired men briskly going their ways; presumably happy. The still unnamed man who saved you and the other prisoners turns to you as you jump out the caged wagon to the dirt underneath your bare feet. Standing free, finally.

Before you could even peep a word, “Now, miss.” He starts, resting that rifle on his shoulder and walking past you in a leisurely pace. “How bout’ you pick up these guns… and we move out.” He suggests, less of a suggestion, since it’s pretty much the only thing you could do as an option. You bend down to pick up the stray, worn gun belt sitting on the dusty, dirt below, grabbing it and setting it along your hips loosely.

“My mistress is waiting for us.” He states. You look up and just nod slightly, still a little speechless on what just happened in that short span of time. Still processing it through if this situation was real or you just passed out from heatstroke.

Even if that was the case, you couldn’t care less. Taking in the sun kissing your skin, the golden star casting hot rays onto the sweat on your forehead. Shining and weaving through the strands of your— albeit, slightly weathered hair. Feeling the warm, almost comforting dirt under your feet and between your toes, and looking off into the distance. Soft hills, dunes, buttes and mesas of the desert of New Austin, welcoming a new chapter of your life. Things change now. You’re sure of it.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ ོ༘₊⁺⋆.˚ 𐚁𓆈𓄀⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

After peering around, the man led you to a spare scrawny horse, supposedly brought along by the stage coach that was blocking the road, which was now soon to be abandoned. He asked for you to ride with him on that horse, explaining it should only be a short ride anyway.

You both rode out further along the sandy, dry, dirt road. He began to speak as he road in a brisk canter down the dusty roads and through the slightly sandy, rocky, dry grassed terrain of New Austin— you following close behind. The air somewhat hazy with how arid it was.

“I hope you’ll forgive the secrecy. My employer particularly values discretion.” The man explains whilst he rides in front, as you follow close behind. “My name is Mr. Horley, by the way.” He introduces himself, which you were going to respond with your own greetings, but before you could say a word he trails off. “Six months at Sisika Penitentiary…” Leading you to realise he probably knows who you are already. “awaiting a hanging for a murder you did not commit.” Mr. Horley continues, which he was correct. How did he know how long you were in Sisika? How did he know your reason for being in that hell hole? So you weren’t picked at random? He was definitely not a lawman— anybody could tell you that— so who was this, ‘Mr. Horley’ and his employer?

You finally speak up, confused as you furrows your eyebrows, knitting them together whilst trying to make sense of all this. Spurring the horse below you faster to catch up to Horley, trotting beside him. “How… How do you know who I am?” You question, trying to catch his attention; examining his face and expression as for any hint or clue. He continues to look forward onto the dirt road.

“You’ll find out in a minute.” He answered collected, as you continue to follow him down the trail, the trot quickening. He soon continued, “You still seem strong, though. I mean, it doesn’t look like breaking all those rocks has left you entirely broken… in body or in spirit. I hope I am right about that.” He pauses for a moment.

“Roundin’ you folks up… and those sham trials? They were a disgrace. Made a mockery of the rule of law. I still can’t quite believe they got away with it.” Mr. Horley ranted, he knew much more about what happened to you than you thought. Talking about the trial you had attended and how during that trial you were framed for murder.

You scoff softly in amusement at his remarks, you can admit, you do agree with that statement. “Me neither.” You reply, shaking your head lightly in disbelief.

“There’s others convicted when you were, came out breathing fire.” He retells how previous people like you sought out a burning revenge at the people who wronged them, convicted them falsely and or set them up. “Maybe you’re like that, too. Guess we’ll see. Or maybe, you just want to put it all behind you, forget you were in there at all.” He says, stating what you could do since you’re out. “That would be fine, of course.” Horley resents, a hint of sarcasm laced into it.

“Yeah… we’ll see.” You nod, of course you want to get revenge. You were almost HANGED for something you did not commit. And some bastards are walking free without a care in the world. But with nothing to your name except a gun belt and prison uniform; there wasn’t much you could do— yet.

But before another word of this situation is spoken, you both arrive at a camp after that brisk ride. Turning gently, just short of a branch off to the left of the road. Approaching the fairly organised, well set up camp out in the open desert, Mr. Horley tells to hitch up the horses at the two posts on the edge of camp; doing so, climbing off the scrawny steed and landing on the sandy dirt once more. You gaze around the campsite, small patches of green grass poke out through the sandy dirt, cactus and various rocks and boulders are freckled around the surrounding vicinity, and rocky, sandy hills and valleys stand on the horizon, fading softer, and softer into the distance.

This is better than that penitentiary— that’s for sure.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ 𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯 ོ ༄﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THANKS FOR READING MY FIRST FANFIC ‼️ hope you liked it because geez I haven’t written in a bit 😭😭 let me know what you think and say literally ANYTHING because I have no clue what I think of it 🙏

kind stayed up till 3am for this… 😭

[mushrubes]

My time

Masterlist | Red dead redemption masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Sean macguire by @/addynot}

Pairing : Sean Macguire x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 606

Warnings : friends to lovers, mutual pinning, slightly ooc <3

Have a great day !! <3

——————————

“Jesus!” Sean let out a loud groan of pain, clenching his teeth as you brushed through his knotted ginger hair. “Can’t ya be any more gentle with that?” He whined, his face scrunched and contorted with pain. You simply rolled your eyes. Sean could be quite the crybaby. You both knew he needed this, though. God forbid he ever took care of his hair. "Stop being so dramatic, Sean!" You groaned, carrying on brushing it through his hair, being extra careful to get the knots out. “I’m just sayin’!” He protested weakly. “That hurts, Ruby!” He winced, but the look in his eyes held something different; something tender. He seemed to enjoy the fact that you were brushing his hair. It seemed…intimate somehow. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just..I'm trying to help." You sighed, doing it slower.

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He chuckled weakly. “Jus’ be a little gentler, aye?” Sean glanced at you. “I have a sensitive scalp.” Sean smiled sweetly, his hair looking much softer and clean now. "Surely it feels better, no?" You asked genuinely, running my fingers through the soft strands. “Yeah.” He smiled, running his hand through his clean hair. “Feels nice, actually. Thank ya.”Sean’s eyes lingered on you as he smiled warmly. He moved in closer, until he was only inches away. “It feels nice having someone that close… brushing my hair.” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t talking about his hair. "All you have to do is ask." You reminded, smiling gently at him, finishing getting the last tangle out.

“I know.” He leaned in even closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I just wanted to take the chance to be near ya.” Sean suddenly grabbed your face, kissing your lips passionately. He held the kiss for a moment, pulling away slowly. When he did, he looked down at you with a sheepish grin. "You're a fool." you teased playfully, giggling as you wrapped my arms around his neck. “Only for you.” He mumbled, resting his head on yours. He looked down at you lovingly, his eyes staring deeply into your own. Sean slowly reached to rub your back, running a soft thumb over your skin. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "damn right Macguire." you smiled, poking his chest softly. Sean snickered, poking you back. He moved into your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, kissing it lightly. “You wanna go see a show later?” His tone was soft and almost playful. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck again, rubbing his stubble up against your skin.

"The one in Valentine? or Saint Denis?" you grinned, pressing kisses to his jaw. “The one in Saint Denis. I don’t think the gang would appreciate me and you seeing a show in Valentine's.” Sean kissed the spot where his hands rested, his face nuzzled into your neck. He looked up, flashing you a devilish smile with his signature crooked, red grin. “Wanna go to a bar too?” His tone had that same playful nature from before, but this time there was an undertone of something else. Something… smoky and seductive. "Is it gonna end up with us going to a hotel?" you smirked, hands running up and down his chest. “Maybe.” Sean smirked right back, his hands lightly cupping your waist. He looked into your eyes, his voice still playful and almost mischievous. “But I promise, I’ll make it worth your time if it does.” he reassured, face tinted almost as if he was blushing.

"You're always worth my time."

[polakina]

okay umm this might be a bit self indulgent because i am a switch (in bed) myself buuuut

rdr characters x reader (headcanons, but I will devour anything you write) that are leaning to dom side in bed but they get all subby and clingy when they are drunk [my love for guys that are a bit pathetic is uncontrollable],

or just, your take on how do you think they act when they are drunk...

[preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add/remove characters if you feel like it, as I said, I will devour anything😩]

- 🐊

nonnie...i feel like you live inside my head

i think about this CONSTANTLY

your wish is my command, nonnie. i don't typically write for sean and kieran but i love this request and want to make you happy <3

rating: mature

drunk thoughts, drunker actions

javier:

clingy to the MAX

hands all over you, even without thinking

he starts out innocently; a hand on your thigh, or his arm around your shoulder

but as the night goes on, that hand trails up your thigh, creeping higher and higher

the arm around your shoulder slides down your back, his hand tickling your spine as it settles at the globe of your ass

he likes to whisper little comments in your ear by the firelight when the whole gang is sat around listening to music, chatting amongst eachother

javier likes to see you blush, and the second that a drop of alcohol touches his lips, he becomes a fucking poet

his sex drive is through the roof, and he doesn't care that anyone's around to witness it

he needs you. and he needs you to know that

"javier!" you whisper, squeezing your thighs to stop his creeping fingers getting closer and closer to your underwear beneath your skirt. "you gotta keep your hands to yourself. there's people around." he smirks, kissing your cheek from where he sits behind you, leaning against the log for support, his legs resting on either side of yours. "come on, mi amor. i need you. you look so beautiful tonight," he whispers as his lips trail to your neck. it wasn't long before he'd managed to pull you away from camp. he managed to pull you to the tall bushes behind the stables before he lost all sense of manners to the gang. his hands were all over you. his lips kissed your neck, your shoulders, your lips as his hands undressed you. fingertips grazed up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your skirt up to your waist. "god, i love you, mi amor," he mumbled between kisses, burying his face in your neck. you sighed, tilting your face to the sky, the bark from the wood digging into your spine but you didn't care. when javier was like this, there was no stopping him. and you loved it. he could go on for hours, like a dog in heat. fucking you until you were sweating and panting, laid there breathless and legless. you readied yourself for a long night. a long, long night

sean:

most confident when he's had a few drinks

the accent slipped out stronger and you loved it

he complimented you until your cheeks were red raw. to him, you were the most beautiful person in the world

acts confident in public, but that all melts away when you've got him alone

looks at you with these eyes that make you feel like all he wants is to please you

his sole focus is to pleasure you

"oh, my shinin' star! there she is," sean beamed from where he stood on top of the table. hosea and arthur sat at the seats in front of him, shaking their heads and laughing at the drunk Irishman swaying on the table. you stood there, a stupid grin on your face as you watched his sway to javier's music. "come on, honey," you coaxed him over with your finger. "before you embarrass yourself completely." he followed like a puppy, entirely engrossed in you. "aw darlin, we leaving the party so soon?" you smirked, leading him to your shared tent and sealing it shut while he sat on your cot. "the party isn't over just yet, Macguire." "oh sweetheart, you spoil me. this is going to be fun." he pulled you into his lap, hands roaming all over you. the confidence slowly left his features as you adjusted yourself on his lap, gently rocking back and forth. "the fun hasn't even begun yet, sean," you smiled, dipping your head to kiss him as he laid flat on his back, smirking for the evening to come.

kieran:

shy

a sweet shy boy

but feels a certain gust of confidence when he's had a few beers

always had more of a submissive personality in bed, but that personality turns up tenfold when he's drunk

will do anything for you. anything to you

all you need to do is ask

kieran is at your every beck and call

more experimental after a few drinks. wants to try more. do more. feels more adventurous with you

"you look really pretty," kieran whispered. you were stood together by the beer crate. you had wandered over to grab another bottle, smiling as you saw kieran. you kissed his cheek and leaned against him. "such a sweetheart, kieran," you mumbled, smiling to yourself. you were both a little tipsy, but not enough to completely lose focus. it loosened you up. kieran was always more affectionate with you after a couple of drinks. "want to...um...call it a night? head to the tent?" kieran stumbled out, his eyes glancing over frantically to wait for a response. you supressed a grin, nodding to him. "come on then, kieran," you took his hand, leading him to your shared tent. kieran had moved into your tent recently after dutch accepted him into the gang. it was the best decision you ever made. he followed at your feet, not even a step behind you. his brown doe eyes stared at you as you guided him to the bed, gently pushing him on. "what are you doing, doll?" you smiled. you loved that nickname he'd given you. "you want to call it a night, kieran?" you asked, leaning over, your hands on his thighs. it wasn't fear that flashed in his eyes. it was more excitement. mixed with a twinge of nerves. "or do you wanna have a little fun first?" his mouth fell open slightly, his eyes widening. "not ready to sleep just yet," he whispered. you chuckled, "didn't think so." not even javier's melodic singing and bill's less melodic singing could cover up kieran's sweet noises that came from your tent that night.

[the-karma-cafe]

Thursdays | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which the boys are curious where arthur runs off to every thursday night (ITS FOR SEX)

song is Moonshadow by Cat Stevens ! spoiler they be fucking :/ i be making them fuck for real (oh no aaaa no arthur dont have sex with me no aaa that would be terrible i would hate that)

Javier’s eyes track Arthur as he slinks away from the campfire, tuning out Sean’s boisterous storytelling. He knows the gunslinger is readying his horse to leave. He also knows he’ll be gone for a couple of hours, returning around one or two in the morning to slump into his bed after everyone has gone to sleep.

How does Javier know?

Surprisingly, Arthur is a creature of strict routine, and he does this song and dance every Thursday night—without fail. 

Javier furrows his brow, unable to quash his curiosity this time. What on Earth could he be going off to do so regularly? He never came back with meat, so he wasn’t hunting. He couldn’t be off robbing, because when he got back, he didn’t drop anything off at the contribution box. Oh, Javier, maybe he was planning to do so later on? Ah, ah, ah! What do we know about Arthur? Ever the routine-man, he donates to the camp box the second he enters camp, no matter what he just got back from. It’s always the first thing he does. Can’t be shoppin’, ‘cause it’s too late for that. Can’t be killin’, ‘cause he comes back clean. 

A cuff round his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Javier! Didja hear me?” Sean said, drink emboldening his speech (not that the Irishman needed much encouragement). 

Javier ignored him, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Arthur was on his horse, trotting away from camp, everyone else none-the-wiser.

“Hullloooo??” Sean needled, pushing his side into Javier’s. 

Javier looked over to Lenny and Charles sitting across the campfire from them, and felt a spark of inspiration ignite within him. He leaned forward, beckoning them closer with his hand. They looked confused, but crossed the clearing anyway, kneeling in front of his and Sean’s log. 

“What is it?” Lenny prompted, his voice hushed. He could always trust Lenny to be discreet.

“Yeah!” Sean added, much louder. ...He could’ve guessed. 

He lowered his voice, smirking conspiratorially. “Where’d Arthur go?”

Sean and Lenny frowned, caught off-guard by the question, but Charles inclined his head in understanding. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Noticed what??” Sean whined, leaning in closer to Charles. “Don’t be keepin’ secrets, now!”

Charles rolled his eyes, waving his hand to shush Sean. He nodded his head to Javier. “Arthur’s been leaving every Thursday night.”

Sean scrunched his nose. “So what? Art’ur leaves all the time!” Lenny nodded along.

Javier shook his head. “But Thursdays are different. He leaves around 10PM, comes back around 1AM. Why the same amount of time?”

Sean was quiet for a moment (if one could believe it), before jumping up from the log, his beer bottle sloshing in his hand. “Let’s go find out!!” he whispered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

Javier couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He was hoping he wasn’t the only one this curious about it. He felt a thrum of excitement run through him. He pushed up from the log, Lenny readying to follow him.

“Guys,” Charles interrupted, stopping their walk to the horses. “Arthur’s entitled to his privacy. We should let him have this—whatever it is.” 

He should’ve expected this from ever-noble Charles. Sean began to argue, but Javier cut him off, knowing he wouldn’t win against Charles. “It’s probably nothing.” he retorted, trying not to feel guilty under the other man’s pointed stare. He turned away, making for the horses anyway. “I’m going. You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t miss this fer the world!” Sean laughed, immediately tagging along. Javier fought the triumphant grin pulling at his lips. He heard Lenny awkwardly shuffle behind them, some whispered apology to Charles.

He mounted his horse, waiting impatiently for Sean to struggle onto his own. His eyes searched the growth around the camp, hoping to find an indication of where Arthur ran off to. He could track, but Charles was the expert. It would make things much easier to have him with them…

The man in question’s voice came behind him. “I’m only tagging along to make sure you don’t ruin whatever Arthur has going on.” He turned to see Charles mounting Taima, disapproval marring his proud features. 

Javier grinned in spite of it. “Excellent! Vámonos!” he cheered, leading the search brigade with Charles by his side, the other man’s trained eye focused on the ground. Lenny followed behind them with Sean drunkenly pulling up the rear. Charles looked as though he wanted to stop him from coming, but seemed to decide against it, knowing the stubborn man wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

Charles followed Arthur’s trail down the left path from camp, past the trees, past the tracks, until they arrived in Valentine. Javier felt giddy. 

Charles stopped them in front of the saloon, hopping off his horse to hitch her, the rest of them quickly following suit.

“The saloon?” Sean whispered, creeping up the steps to peer through the building’s windows. Lenny followed behind him, and the two poked their noses over the ledge of the window, trying to sneak a glance within. Charles walked over to join them, and would have looked less suspicious if not for the two idiots in front of him crouched like children. 

Javier approached the window opposite them, casually leaning to the side of it to look in. Not that his subtlety helped him, as again, he was across from three grown men cartoonishly trying to peek inside as well. 

He spied a couple of men that looked like Arthur before finally seeing actual Arthur at the bar. He wasn’t hunched over it, like some of the other patrons were, and instead was looking around at the other people in the saloon, as if searching for someone. What could that be about? He wondered.

Before he could think on it further, Sean strolled into the saloon, Lenny in tow. Charles shared a knowing glance with him before following them in. 

Sean beelined for Arthur, and soon they all surrounded him, clapping him on the back.

“You’d go to the saloon without inviting yer favorite drinking buddy?” Sean accused, roughly pushing at the man’s shoulder. 

“My favorite drinking buddy, huh?” Arthur echoed, his voice not reflecting what Javier knew to be embarrassment on his face. Arthur slumped over the bar, tugging the front of his hat further over his face. 

Sean gasped. “Drinkin’ with me’s a treat! Ye should be so lucky!”

Javier nudged him from his other side. “We were wondering where you headed off to all the time. Had we known it was just the saloon we would not have bothered!” he laughed, waving the bartender over. He would buy him a drink to apologize.

“You too, Charles?” Arthur asked, sounding betrayed. 

Charles sighed, apologizing. “I was trying to get them to leave you alone, Arthur.” Javier couldn’t help but think the man didn’t put up too much of a fight. 

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat. “‘F that’s all, you can all head on back to camp, I’ll be back soon.”

Sean scoffed. “Why d’you want to be rid of us so-”

A guitar strum floated over from the back of the saloon, and he trailed off. Arthur buried his head in his arms, the tips of his ears red. Javier cocked a brow, looking over.

“Miss me, y’all?” a pretty woman at the back of the room called out, guitar in hand. A couple of cheers and whoops came from the crowd, the saloon filled with noise.

The boys grinned knowingly. 

“Not. A goddamn. Word.” Arthur groaned, his voice muffled by his arms. 

Sean barked a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Ohoho, ye rascal, we shoulda known ye’d try ta keep this beauty ta yerself!” He wolf-whistled towards the performer.

Javier grinned toothily, leaning in to tease Arthur. “You could have told us you were only leaving to see about a girl, Arthur.”

Arthur pushed up from his slump, nursing his whiskey miserably. “Like you would’ve let me hear the end of it.” He grumbled. Javier pushed his extra drink over to the man, giggling like a teenager. Arthur the Stoic, red-faced and shy about a singer. He never thought he’d see the day!

The woman, having finished her introductions while they teased Arthur, began to sing. Javier watched Arthur turn himself slightly to watch her.

Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Arthur couldn’t help the dreamy smile that twisted his mouth, watching her. She looked so content, fully in her element up there on Valentine’s tiny lifted stage. The piano man to her right had abandoned his duties to drink at the nearest table.

And if I ever lose my hands

Lose my plow, lose my land

Oh, if I ever lose my hands

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to work no more

Her southern accent colored the lyrics, guiding the notes up and down as she pleased. The patrons knew this song, and sang along with her every now and then, but none followed the exact way she sang it, allowing him to easily follow her voice amidst the noise.

And if I ever lose my eyes

If my colors all run dry

Yes, if I ever lose my eyes

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to cry no more

Sean stumbled into the fray, caught in some dance with a couple of other patrons, breaking his trance. Arthur dragged a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. 

Yes, I’m bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Most nights, he would allow himself to indulge in the fantasy. Convince himself she was singin’ for him, that when they locked eyes across the saloon, she had the same look in hers as he did. 

And if I ever lose my legs

I won't moan, and I won't beg

Oh, if I ever lose my legs

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to walk no more

He downed his drink and reached for Javier’s—anything to give him an excuse for the way he was lookin’ at her. Having them with him just dragged him back to reality: he was just another face in the crowd to her, and even if he did catch her eye, she would just think him old and sour-faced, and leave it at that. 

And if I ever lose my mouth

All my teeth, north and south

Yes, if I ever lose my mouth

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to talk no more

He took another deep drink, feeling that familiar haze begin to set in on the edge of his vision. 

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And are you gonna stay the night?

This would be the last time he let himself come here on a Thursday night. He was just torturin’ himself, thinkin’ of things that would never be. Head in the clouds, like Micah would say. Christ, he was glad they didn’t think to bring him along.

I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

The drink crept into his heart. If this was his last night here, with her, he might as well fool himself one last time, the drink said. What’s the harm? One last time can’t hurt. It wheedled, and he knew he’d be miserable come morning.

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

He leaned to his right, seeking Javier’s weight to nudge him for another drink (least he could do for ruinin’ his fun), but felt only air. He frowned, glancing around for the others. Sean had dragged Lenny into his drunken dance, Javier was speaking with some well-endowed woman in the corner (who seemed very pleased to have his attention), and Charles… his frown deepened, squinting at the blurry crowd. He couldn’t see Charles. Knowing the women of Valentine, he was likely cornered somewhere, politely refusing their services (although for a man like Charles, perhaps it was free).

Arthur grunted, turning back to his empty glass. Figures that his friends would quickly find company at a place he frequented, and he was left miserable and alone. He plucked his hat off his head, raking his other hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess—no wonder he was by himself. 

“Hey, cowboy.” a voice came from his right, startling him from his wallowing. He turned, and felt his heart jump to see his singer leaning against the bar next to him. 

Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. She seemed out of breath from her performance, but pleased, satisfied with how she had done. 

He gaped like a fish. Say somethin’, goddammit!  

She smiled, shifting her eyes to his glass. She pointed at it lazily. “Be a doll and get me what you’re havin’?”

He nodded dumbly, gesturing wordlessly at the bartender. Seconds later, a replica of his drink sat in front of her. She thanked him and brought the glass to her lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, eyes trained on the way her lips parted, the amber liquid gliding into her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

She set the glass back down, giving him a teasing smile. “You mute?”

He shook his head—then inwardly smacked himself for yet another wordless response. “No.” Christ, you can do better than that.

She giggled, and he thought he might die. “What a scintillating conversationalist you are, Mister…” she trailed off, tilting her head. 

“Morgan.” he provided. His mind caught up to the conversation fast enough to ask for her name in turn (he deserved a pat on the back for being so quick-witted). She gave it, and he almost sighed aloud. She had a name she introduced herself with to the crowds, but he suspected it was a stage name, and he had been correct. Her real name was a privilege to finally learn. 

He repeated it back to her, experimentally rolling it on his tongue. She grinned. “Sounds nice when you say it, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Arthur,” he corrected. “‘S just Arthur. For you.” He coughed, turning to order another drink, just to have something, anything , to distract him from the weight of her gaze on him. “I mean, if you want. Morgan’s fine too.”

“Arthur,” she purred. He felt faint. “I like that more.” His next drink arrived and he immediately buried his face in it, unable to meet her eyes. Christ, he was like a teenager. He inwardly scolded himself.

She carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I see you here a lot, Arthur.” she gestured over her shoulder to the crowd. “First time I seen you bring friends, though.”

So she had seen him in the crowd all those times? He squashed the thought before it ruined him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Bastards invited themselves.” He chanced a glance at her, her attention on the crowd instead of him. He eyed her drink, already half-empty in her hand, before looking up, up, to the curve of her chest, the proud slope of her neck, the strands of hair falling loose from her updo, her lips, her nose, her eyes… he forced himself to look at the crowd instead. “Don’t you have some adorin’ fans to go talk to?”

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead. “I thought I was already doin’ that.” she sidled closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his arm. Warmth radiated off of her. “Unless you’re not one of my adoring fans.”

Arthur felt heat creep up his neck and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoed, amusement coloring her voice. “I don’t think you’ve missed a single one of my performances, Arthur Morgan.” he felt a shiver run up his spine. “If anyone’s a fan, it’s you.”

He pulled the lip of his hat down over his eyes. “Maybe.” Guilty as charged.

She laughed, and rounded to his front. She flicked up the front of his hat, and his eyes met hers. He stilled, entranced. There seemed to be a glow about her, some hazy halo enveloping her body. How much had he had?  

“You won’t admit it?” What had they been talking about again? He tried not to focus on their difference in height, how easy it would be to scoop her up, his hands so large on her hips… 

“Well?” He flexed his hands, trying to reign himself in. Her face was expectant: eyebrows raised, pretty lips pursed. 

He shook his head. Couldn’t this woman see he couldn’t think straight? 

Apparently that counted as an answer and she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “You embarrassed?”

Yes. Why did she think he was, again? He sighed. “I’m sorry, miss,” he tried her name again, wanting to say it over and over. “I believe I am too drunk for this conversation.”

She grinned in understanding. “Why don’t we talk someplace quieter, make things easier on your poor head, hm?” 

Someplace quieter? His mind echoed, while his body nodded dumbly, stumbling behind her. She took his hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. His eyes were trained intently on their hands, her hand small, warm, in his, her fingertips roughened from guitar strings. 

What was she doin’, touchin’ a man like him? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, as much as he knew he should. It felt nice, to indulge. The hazy shroud around his vision encroached further inwards, tunneling his view.  

“Here,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear. She pushed open a door, leading him inside and shutting it behind them. It was suddenly much quieter. He breathed a sigh of relief, some tension leaving his set shoulders.

“Nicer up here, isn’t it?” she prompted, releasing his hand. He ached at the loss. He dragged his gaze up to watch her dance over to the… bed. He gulped, valiantly fighting off the thoughts that sprang up at the sight of her. 

“Mhm.” He didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood awkwardly where she had left him, staring dumbly at her. What the hell was she thinkin’, bringin’ a man like him up here, alone with her? She could get herself hurt, or worse. He frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I shouldn’ be up here with you.” He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the ground. “Ain’t right. You shouldn’ trust me.” his words slurred, but he hoped she was taking him seriously despite it. 

“Why not?”

He groaned. God, her voice. He buried his head in his hands. “I ain’t. A nice man, miss,” he spoke her name again, and god, hoped she couldn’t hear how he loved to say it.

He felt her hand on his arm. When had she gotten up? She was so warm. He lowered his hands, chancing a look into her eyes, hoping he was strong enough to resist their pull. 

Christ, of course he couldn’t. She looked up at him through her lashes, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. He breathed in, unable to bring himself to look away this time. She smelled like the alcohol everything smelled like in the saloon, but a sweet undertone ran beneath it. He was reminded of the saccharine scent of canned peaches. 

Her hand smoothed down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her other reached up, up, and palmed his cheek, her touch gentle like she was approaching some wild horse. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, his stubble scratching against her skin. 

“How ‘bout,” she started, her voice soft and quiet, “I decide that for myself?”

His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself forgetting what she was even responding to. His free hand began to move of its own accord, bumping into her thigh, smoothing up to her hip. He looked down. Just like he had imagined… 

She moved, and his gaze shifted to her face, slowly nearing his. His breath hitched. This was some sweet dream. He would awaken in his tent, frustrated and wanting, would take himself in his hand and relieve himself to the sight of her like this in his mind’s eye. He would wait until next Thursday and slink back to the bar, eager for more. Her lips touched his and he sighed into her mouth, whiskey on his breath. He would stay asleep forever, if he could, lips pushing against hers, nipping at her soft skin, tonguing past it. 

She parted from him, gently, as if to not scare him off. He breathed heavily, eyes lidded, vision tunneled onto her mouth. She started to speak, but he cut her off, pushing hungrily into her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. He had waited so long, so long. He would take it, even if it wasn’t real. 

She gasped into his mouth and he almost moaned at the sensation. God, what a privilege to finally have her all to himself. To have her in front of him, touching him, kissing him, instead of with her crowd, Arthur by himself at the other end.

Her knees buckled, falling back onto the bed. He huffed, breaking from her. He thrust his hands beneath her thighs, hearing her squeak in surprise. “Easy, girl.” he muttered under his breath, picking her up and tossing her into the pillows at the head of the bed, following soon after. 

He climbed onto the bed above her, and stilled, looking down at her. Her hair had spilled out of its updo, hair piece having been discarded… at some point, perhaps before they had even entered the room? His memory felt hazy. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes softened. “Yer beautiful, miss,” he whispered her name. 

Her cheeks flushed prettily. “Thank you, Arthur.” she breathed. She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes slipping down to his lips. 

He reached out, taking a piece of her hair between his fingers, twisting it around. It was soft. Of course it was. It was devastating how perfect she was. “I liked your song, earlier.” he mumbled, focused on her hair. 

“I… I’m glad.” she whispered, her hand winding up his arm, to his neck, to his head, to take off his hat. She placed it down somewhere, and her hand soon wound its way into his hair, her short nails scraping at the back of his head. His eyes slipped closed, humming at the sensation. “I was hoping you would be here, tonight.”

He blinked open his eyes just enough to see her face. “What?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

She averted her gaze, blush deepening. “Been lookin’ forward to seein’ you at my performances.”

He scoffed. Now he knew this was a dream. “Uh huh.” He leaned in, burying his nose in her neck. “You don’t gotta lie t’me.” He turned, placing open-mouthed kisses along any skin he could find. Her breath hitched in his ear. 

“I-I’m not.” she insisted. He hummed, laving across a section of skin before taking it between his teeth, sucking slightly. She held her breath for a second, forcing out her next words. “I been… been dreadin’ the day you stop showin’ up,” she breathed out, “and I’d have missed my chance.” 

He parted from her, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. They were lidded, but earnest. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I counted at least ten other men better-lookin’ and closer in age t’you. Yer tellin’ me not one o’ them caught yer eye?” 

“‘S that really so hard to believe?” she palmed his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb. 

“Yes.” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her hand all the same. 

She brought up her other hand, cupping his face. “Look how sweet you are, baby.” she cooed, bringing his face closer to nuzzle her nose against his. “What a cutie-pie!” she teased.

His eyes softened, tracing the features of her face. He wished he could pause time, sketch her in his journal. He’d just have to memorize how she looked, and try his best to replicate it later. Once he woke up, of course. From this dream.

She connected their lips and he groaned, not expecting the sudden contact again. Her hands moved from his face to wrap around his neck and scratch at his shoulders. It felt like she was sucking him in, how truly he could not pull away. 

He rubbed his hand up her thigh, pushing up her long skirt. Her skin was smooth under his rough hand, moving up to grab at the soft flesh of her ass, squeezing and pulling her up towards him. She arched slightly, and he grabbed his other hand behind her waist to pull her closer, closer still. 

Her breasts brushed against his chest, her nipples stiffening through the thin fabric. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, moving to kiss down her neck. She sighed in his ear, her hands busying themselves with his arms and shoulders. Drink made him sloppy in his movements, his tongue wetting her neck and chest as he made his way down to her breasts. He didn’t bother to tug the fabric down, instead mouthing over her nipple through the fabric, flattening and swirling his tongue into the mound. 

She whimpered, her hand moving up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her other moving down to tug her shirt down under her tits. He parted from her while she did so, unable to help the smirk twisting his mouth at her desperation. 

“You like that, doll?” he muttered, taking in the sight of her bare breasts, her shirt bunched up underneath them. 

She stuttered out a response, arching up towards his mouth. Seeing her like this sent a surge of confidence through him. She was his. No one else downstairs got to see her like this. Just him. Only him. He brushed his lips against her nipple, watching her try to push into his mouth. 

He smiled against her, and she whined, tugging his hair. “Don’t tease me, Arthur.” she breathed. Fuck. He took it into his mouth, his hand encircling the other, twisting and toying with it. He would give her anything she wanted if it meant she would say his name like that again. 

He dragged his mouth down, not missing the soft moan she gave at the loss, cool air ghosting over her wet nipple. He kissed down her stomach, moving his hands down underneath her thighs, pushing them up, up. 

He bunched her skirt around her, and pulled back. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked up at her. 

Her face was reddened with embarrassment, her hands covering her cheeks. 

“Care to explain this?” he teased, running his hands down her thighs, closer, closer. 

She bit her lip. “I…” she looked away. 

He tilted his head, indicating he was waiting. 

“I… did say I was hopin’ to see you tonight, didn’t I?” she laughed breathily. 

His chest rumbled in approval, looking down at her exposed cunt, already wet without him touching it. “All this…” he drawled, glancing up at her, “for me?” 

She nodded, hiding slightly behind her hands. 

“Too kind to me, sweetheart,” he lowered himself, breathing her in. He kissed her thigh, feeling her twitch. “You shouldn’t have…” his breath ghosted between her legs, and she shuddered, anticipation building. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses inside her thighs, feeling her arch into him, growing desperate. He took pity. 

Gripping her soft thighs in his hands, he licked one long stripe up her slit, gathering her wetness onto his tongue. She gasped, tightening her legs. He forced them open, holding them up. “Be good, princess, or I won’t be good to you.” he admonished, kissing her thigh. 

She shuddered. “Shit, yes, sorry yes, please, I’ll be good, please,” she breathed, trying to wiggle closer to his mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praised, flattening his tongue against her clit, lapping at it softly. She cursed, her hands fisting the bedding. He laved up her slit, once, twice, three times, before closing his lips around her bud, lightly sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, Arthur,” she gasped, and he groaned against her, working his tongue inside of her, circling the entrance before pushing in, lapping up at her walls. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, reaching her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He pressed gentle circles into it, his tongue spreading into her. She hissed, bucking into his ministrations. 

He pulled away, sliding his thumb down from her clit to her entrance, gently working his way inside. 

“Arthur…” she whined. 

“Yeah?” He teased, mimicking her tone, pushing his thick thumb further inside of her. 

She moaned, pushing herself onto him. “Arthur, please, I need more,” she breathed, meeting his gaze. “I need you .” 

He felt himself throb against his already-strained pants. He cursed under his breath, moving to unbuckle his pants. In his tunnel vision, he didn’t see her move from her position on the bed. 

Her hand came to rest over where his struggled with the buckle. “Let me, baby.” she cooed, moving his hands away. He blinked, letting her move him, watching her smaller hands undo his belt, working his pants down, taking him… oh. She took him out, palming his length. Shit, it looked bigger in her hand. Or maybe he hadn’t been this worked up in awhile. She ghosted her hand up and down, barely fluttering her thumb over the tip. His breath hitched, trying not to buck up into her hand, and failing, miserably. 

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. He reached out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “Hey, girl.” he breathed shakily, her hand jerking up suddenly. 

She giggled. “Hey, yourself, handsome.” 

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed to be on the other end. He looked away, only for a moment, before feeling a warm wetness engulf him. He gasped, whipping back to look down at her, half of his length having disappeared into her mouth. “Shit, darlin’,” he cursed, his accent dragging at the words. He bucked up into her lips, smoothing his thumb across her cheek. 

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations into him. “God, sweetheart, you’re bein’ so fuckin’ good to me right now,” he hissed, his hand reaching underneath to cup her jaw, squeezing it and guiding himself further in. 

She opened her mouth wider to take him. “Christ, you’re perfect,” he groaned, feeling her tongue slide up, her hand taking what her mouth couldn’t. 

She pulled off of him, kissing his tip, pumping her hand over the slick she had left. His breath shuddered. She smiled up at him. “You want more?” 

“God, yes.” he pushed her back onto the bed, muscling her onto her stomach, ass in the air. She squeaked in surprise, and he palmed her ass, squeezing it open to get a better look. God, she was practically dripping for him. He bit his lip, groaning. He rubbed himself up her slit, gathering the wetness there, rubbing it onto himself. “All this for me, darlin’?” he whispered, squeezing her hip. 

She wiggled herself back, trying to take him in. “Fuck, Arthur, it is, please, just fuck me already,” she whined, his tip sliding just past where she wanted him. 

“If the lady insists,” he teased, aligning himself with her, before softly, gently, pushing into her. 

She turned her face into the mattress, moaning, grabbing at the covers. “ Jesus, Arthur.” she groaned, her words muffled. 

He pressed in further. Halfway. “Can’t hear you, doll.” It was taking everything in him to go so slowly. 

She turned her head to the side, pushing back to take more of him in. He hissed, his hands twitching on her ass, squeezing her. 

He let out a breath, finally fully seated. He didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t. He gyrated against her, desperate for some kind of friction. A whine built in his throat. “Can-” 

Before he could ask, she forcefully pushed back into him, and he cursed, abandoning all hesitation and fucking into her. She cried out his name, arching against him. She was so tight and hot around him, her ass bouncing back against him with every thrust. It was all he could do to keep himself standing, his vision focused solely on where their bodies met. 

“Ar-thur,” she gasped, her breath shuddering, “God, God, you’re so big Arthur, Jesus Christ,” she moaned, her words starting to devolve into sounds with no meaning. 

He kept himself rooted deep within her, barely pulling out before slamming back in again, and again, and again. Her hands grasped for purchase anywhere, everywhere, on the bed, moaning noises that almost sounded like his name, pushing back into him with every thrust. 

Shit. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. 

“Miss,” he breathed her name. “I, shit, I-” he grabbed her thighs, his fingers bruising in their pressure, forcing her back into him. 

She whined at the pressure, growing limper. 

“Fuck! Fuck,” he yanked himself from her, grabbing at himself and finishing on her back. 

She had collapsed into the bed, giving a small satisfied moan. He breathed heavily, immediately grabbing a towel from the closet and cleaning her off. “S-Sorry, Miss.” he caught his breath, “Should’ve grabbed the towel before doin’ that on you.” He discarded the towel, placing a small kiss on her back, then immediately wondering if that was too much.

“What?” she said, muffled a bit by the covers. She turned, pushing herself up to sit and look at him. She frowned, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, cowboy.” Her frown twisted to a smile, “I oughta be thankin’ you for such a nice time.” she teased, pinching his cheek.

He suddenly grew bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’ know about all that, but I definitely am thankin’ you.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly swollen… he had so many things to remember for his journal. “Best dream I’ve had in awhile,” he mumbled, moving to get under the covers. 

She joined him. “Dream?” she laughed, “You still drunk enough to think you’re dreamin’?”

He shrugged, opening his arms. She shifted into them, laying her head on his chest. “Could be stone cold sober and still think this was a dream.” He pecked her head. “I’ll miss you in the mornin’, girl.” 

She snorted, but snuggled into him anyway.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Arthur groaned, the light only hitting his closed eyes, but giving him a headache all the same. His back didn’t hold the ache it usually did, though, laying on this terrible cot. It was the small victories, he guessed.

He thought back to his dream last night, and sighed wistfully. What he would give to have that right now, his cock painfully hard this morning. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. 

A hand reached across his stomach, ghosting against his length. He jumped, looking over to his side. “Well, good morning to you, too.” she yawned, lightly playing with him, a teasing look in her eye. 

He blinked. He squinted.

He rubbed his eyes again.

“Holy shit.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Bonus

The woman placed the guitar against the wall, happily engaged in conversation with some of the patrons closest to her stage. “Excuse me,” Charles butted in, stealing her attention from them. 

She turned to him, confused, but polite. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled kindly. “I’m sorry, Miss, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends on the favor, don’t it?” she laughed.

He nodded in understanding, and pointed to Arthur, hunched over the bar. “Do you see that miserable man over there?” She looked, and stiffened in recognition. “He has been coming to this saloon every Thursday night, just for you.” he turned to her. 

A blush painted her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’.” she laced her fingers together nervously. “He’s never said anything to me.”

Charles shook his head. “My friend—he is shy with women.” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Especially women he likes.” The woman’s blush deepened, her gaze darting over to Arthur. He straightened up. “All I ask is that you talk to him. I’m afraid my friends and I have ruined his Thursday, and I’m sure that would cheer him up.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing. He could tell why Arthur was so taken with her. “He sounds sweet,” she spoke softly. “I would love to.” 

He thanked her, watching her make true on her word and walk over to Arthur. Charles noted his reddened ears and fumbling fingers and smiled. Hopefully, this would make up for it.

[maskedteaser]

I feel you about rdr2, I feel like I'm walking through a desert with no water😭

But if you don't mind me requesting something...

Maybe Sean or Kieran (or whoever you want, I'm fine with anybody) with a crush on s/o who's just an absolute ray of sunshine and they're too nervous to ask s/o out because of this

hii! i'm so glad to be able to do my first request ever! hope you like it! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes - english is not my first language! requests are open. Sorry it took so long to write - it is like...my second time writing an actual thing with plot in english! [not proofread i'm sorry i cringed too hard when i tried to read it] CW: none? i think? mentions of alcohol if you squint in javier's part the spanish petnames he uses are feminine(?) but i think there is no other use of any gender comfirming things so i guess it's gender neutral reader fic? ALSO THEY ARE PROBABLY OOC IM SO SORRY :((( 05.06.2024. signed TEASER 📺 [ BANNERS ARE MADE BY ME! ]

SEAN MACGUIRE

You were ethereal in his eyes. Always shining, blooming, filling every space you were in with joy and feeling of safety. Soft hair sparkling in the sun, pupils always wandering around, looking for a sad soul to cheer up. Hands in the air, moving around uncontrollably when you tried to tell a story, gesturing the things that you were imagining. Truly mesmerising, he felt like he just had to have you, but his every attempt at flirting with you was just taken as a joke, rewarded by a small smile from you, a little giggle, and it broke his heart, making it rush at the same time.

But Sean MacGuire was an impatient man. Impatient and so obvious with his emotions. Expressive, always made it known when he felt good or bad, when he was falling apart (which was a really rare sigh anyways) or his heart was full of passion. But you made it easy to feel euphoric and then send him to the lowest mental state he could ever be. He couldn't wait to tell you how he wanted you to be his and only his, but for some reason - you were always busy, someone always wanted to talk with you, stealing your attencion. And when you were free, he was too stunned to speak. That never happened in his entire life! His never ending monologue, his mouth that was always talking, everything stopped. Sean MacGuire smiled, excused himself for bothering you and left, leaving you confused but a smile didn't leave your soft lips. He was sitting alone, planning a new way to confess to you. Never in his life would he admit that he was, simply but truly, scared. Of rejection? Maybe. Or of the fact that you might take it as a joke. That would be even worse in his eyes. Sean suddenly remembered the fact that Arthur one day came up to him and asked about his relationship with you, he said that it was so horrendously obvious that he likes you, that he's sweet on you, but he also told him that he might be too simple for you. Too straightforward but at the same time - not cultured enough. Bascially telling him that he might be too dumb for you, straight into his poor face, into his lost puppy eyes. The truth was that, in fact, Sean was just lost without you. With you around, he felt like a better version of himself. That's why he wanted you so badly. He asked Lenny to teach him to read, so he could become a well-read person for you. But Sean MacGuire was an impatient man. Abandoning his mission after only few pages. His impulsitivity took over, he decided that if he's not the one for you, it's better to know as soon as it's possible. In case he had to move on, in case you decide to break his young, so obsessed with you heart. Stealing Dutch's cologne, Lenny's good shirt and wearing his only pants that were clean and somehow not holey - he got ready for you. He even washed his hair in the river, using actual soap that one of the girls from the camp once gave him. What a sweetheart. His plans were suprisingly really detailed. Sean wanted to pick some flowers for you and ask you to go to the town with him, he wanted to mount his horse, see you mount yours and go. But his dreams and distant goals got interrupted by hearing your voice coming near his tent. — Sean! Javier was just asking if you... — you didn't finish your sentence. Halfway in his tent, you laid your eyes on him, clearly preparing for some event. A date? Maybe? How could you know? — Oh! Sean, you look really good! What happened? — you looked up, his soft hair, freshly washed, much more shinier, looking healthy for once. — you washed your hair, so it must be something big. — you added, smiling. It was semi-dark in his tent, light being casted only by a little lamp with a candle inside of it. So you couldn't see how his cheeks got redder when he heard your compliment. — well, I actually...You know... — he started, nervously, but who wouldn't be nervous in that kind of a situation? Being caught preparing for a date, that wasn't even accepted by the other side in the first place. — It is something big. — Sean's voice still had his iconic cheerfulness, but you could hear the little shakes in it as well. But you didn't interrupt, you listened. He took a deep breath and said quickly, his accent almost making it incomprehensible — I was wondering if you'd like to go to the town with me and maybe you know have a drink or two? Like a party, just the two of us, you know? Ay, yeah! Actually I also wanted to say that I really like you! Maybe love...Yeah, that might be a better word for that. I love ya. So? Would you like to go with me? — he looked up at you, his heart beating so fast, he could almost hear it. It's now up to you. Do you agree or not?

JAVIER ESCUELLA

Absolutely smitten with you. Sitting by the fireside on a warm night, you were situated at the opposite side of the fire, watching people that were finishing their chores around the camp. Your delicate presence, hair moved by wind, shining eyes. His mind was in a different place. Holding his guitar, trying to play and sing, but you were distracting. It was almost impossible to get him to the state that he forgot how to play, but with you around, he literally seemed like he just bought this intrument, constantly making little mistakes. Blood rushing to his cheeks every time he got out of rhythm or the sound his guitar made was closer to a scratch than to any melody. But you seemed to not mind, accepting him the way he was, quietly giggling, but not laughing at him, you were just so full of happiness, your gaze only encouraged him to keep playing and he loved it. Loved you. Badly.

But he felt like loving you was never enough, since you seemed to never actually acknowledge his feelings, the deep desire that made his dreams full of you. Everything reminded him of you. You joined the gang a few months ago, how could you fuck him up so badly in such a short period of time? Wrapped around your finger, willing to give you the entire world if you asked him to. He just knew that you'd never ask him to, you were just too...good. You never asked for help yourself, but always wanted to help others. Putting everyone above yourself, taking care of everyone, even Micah, who said so much bad things about you, spitting poison at you every time you walked by, but when he felt ill, you still was a first person to give him health cure.

Javier could only watch from afar. Fascinated, hypnotised by your moves, your energy, how your voice could put everyone in a good mood. When you were telling stories, you'd tell them with so much passion, but when someone else needed to be listened - you were all ears, asking questions, made everyone feel welcomed and safe. He sometimes really thought that you are not real, that you are an angel sent to the camp in those hard times.

Lost in his thoughts again, he missed a string while playing and his guitar made another weird sound. Immediately grounded by that, he looked in the direction you were sitting, only to realise - you were not there anymore. He started looking for you, and he saw that you were sitting next to him. How could he not notice? God, were his reflexes that poor? If it was a life threatening situation, he'd probably be dead by now.

— I noticed that you are a bit lonely here, Javier, — the way his name slipped of your lips so softly, how he'd kill to hear his name coming from that sweet mouth again and again, until he lost his senses. — Mind if I keep you company? You seem stressed, is something bothering you? — when he heard your voice, and your body getting a bit closer to him, his muscles tensed. He put his guitar away, gently, laying it on a ground, leaned it against the barrel that was near.

— what can I say, hermosa. — he sometimes called you Spanish pet names, because he was sure you didn't understand them (if you could, well, he was not aware...) — There is that one girl that completely took over my mind and I can't focus on anything else because of her. She's not even mine, but I'm jealous of everyone that makes her laugh. It's probably wrong, but it's the truth. She's like a milagro walking on this sad country, healing everyone with her presence, so I'm almost certain I don't deserve her, but oh...I can always dream, can't I? — he could swear you put a spell on him. He never meant to open up about his feelings, especially not around you, especially talking about you.

What a fool he was. He couldn't even manage to raise his eyes up to meet your gaze, so he was not able to see the sadness flicker in your face, soft sigh escaping your lips, which was a sign of your heart getting a bit broken, he taken it as a sign of stress and fatigue.

— do you want me to help you with asking her out? I'm a woman myself so I know what most of us like to do... — you said, and oh, he knew that it would happen. Your first thought when someone has a problem is to help them out, any way you can, no matter your own feelings and struggles.

— tell me...how your perfect date would look like? I think she's really similar to you, she might enjoy the same things. — he said, still nervous, his eyes locked on the ground.

So you started to talk about your perfect date. How you'd spend it, and his head was full of ideas by now. He knew exactly where to take you, what to do, so when you finished your monologue, he offered, finally looking up, making eye contact:

— are you free tonight, angelita? Your wish is my command. — his cheeks a bit red, the orange light from nearby fire slightly shining on his skin.

Not it was up to you if you'd like to go with him. What do you say?

KIERAN DUFFY

Oh, that poor boy. His heart couldn't take it. The only person that showed him any kind of affection in this camp, the only one that cared, listened to him, believed him. When he was still tied to the tree, he used to spend all day looking at you with fascination, trying to understand who you were to other gang members, his gaze was subtle, always looking away just in time before anyone would notice. But he was sure you would never look at him the way he looks at you, and his heart ached every time he reminded himself of the fact that he was just a stranger in this camp, he was considered a spy, traitor, enemy. Yet you still treated him with such kindness and care, always asking if he needs anything, if you can do something to ease his pain and stress.

Sometimes you sat near him and talked with him, not caring about what others might think, saying that as long as there is no proof of him doing anything wrong, you will not act like he is a criminal. And he was honestly so thankful for that. He was not sure what he deserved to have you as some sort of ally, but since you were the only one he trusted (even if it was only a little bit) he started to actually feel something deeper than friendship towards you.

He didn't want to admit that it was love. But if not love, then what was it? Unreasonable high blood pressure when he saw you, his eyes sparkly, heart beating faster, his body always felt so full of life, shattering when he saw that someone disrespected you or treated you badly. He couldn't do anything, so he just watched when Micah, because he was literally the only one that ever mistreated you, decided to yell at you. He could only sigh, waiting for you to come to him and moan about how you hate this blonde, egocentric guy.

His most common way of showing his affection to you was by taking care of your horse while listening to you, always remembering everything you said, whether it was a mention of your favourite food, people that you like, your dream future or what beautiful clothes you saw at the shop when you travelled to town the other day. Your complaints that you couldn't afford them though... How Kieran wished he could be rich, so he could buy you those clothes, so he could see you happy. But he knew he could never be able to do that.

He dreamed of asking you out. You were on his mind all day and night, but, god, how was he supposed to do that? He couldn't leave the camp, and if he could, it was supposed to be a fishing trip or something, no going to town, no having too much fun, no buying things (he had no money anyways).

So the day you came to him and said that Micah once again told you that you are an useless addition to the camp, instead of passive listening and nodding his head, he actually asked: — how about we go fishing? I will teach you how to do that so next time he says something like that, you can prove him wrong by bringing bunch of fishes to the camp! — his voice started to shake at the end of his sentence, when he understood that he is basically asking you out on an almost date. He looked at you with hope in his eyes.

— fishing? I don't know if Micah would consider fishing as an useful skill...I don't think if anything that is done by a woman is useful in his eyes. I actually believe he might be jealous of Dutch, he wants him all to himself... — you said, giggling a bit. And Kieran had to agree with you. The way Micah was always complimenting Dutch was actually a bit concerning, but as long as he could stay in this camp, he didn't want to ask. He guessed that "that's how the things are in this gang".

— well, you're probably right. He will treat everyone badly regardless of their hard work. But hey, fishing is a nice thing to do anyways, right? I promise you, it's really relaxing! — Kieran was nervous, of course, but you could also see an honest, bright smile on his face, he showed signs of happiness, and that was something really nice to see.

So? Do you agree to go with him? It's your choice. 

pls give me any feedback, even as anons <3 much love, teaser

[moonlightkitties]

Christmas/Winter Themes Prompts

These are the fics I will be writing every day up in December until Christmas! Most of them are fluff but I have a few angst ones I'm going to write. I'm so excited to write these!

First Snowfall of the Year (Sean MacGuire x Reader) - Celebrating the first snowfall of the year in your new homestead, you and Sean sleep in and spend some time with each other.

Snowball Fight (Micah Bell x Reader) - After doing all your chores and just wanting to rest, Micah ruins it by throwing a freezing cold snowball at your face.

O' Christmas Tree (John Marston x Reader) - John is struggling to put the Christmas tree up while you sort through decorations.

Snowy Horse Ride (Arthur Morgan x Reader) - After a long day of chores, you and Arthur relax by taking the horses out in a cozy snowy ride.

Snowstorm Cuddles (Charles Smith x Reader) - After getting stranded in a snow storm while on a hunting trip, you and Charles share body heat to help warm up.

Christmas Movie Marathon (Michael De Santa x Reader) - Having nothing to do, you and Michael spend the day watching every Christmas movie you find.

Gingerbread Houses (Trevor Philips x Reader) - After getting gingerbread houses for both you and Trevor, you get home and ask him to make one with you. Trevor being Trevor, makes it into a competition and gets frustrated when the icing doesn't keep the walls up.

Christmas Cookies (Wade Hebert x Reader) - You and Wade make Christmas cookies and get flour everywhere.

Peppermint Mochas (Dave Norton x Reader) - Wanting to spoil your older, exhausted husband, you surprise him by making peppermint mochas.

Christmas Lights (Steve Haines x Reader) - You force Steve to take you to go look at Christmas lights.

Pretty Kitty (Lenny Summers x Reader) - You and Lenny find a cat in the snow and take it home.

My Big Strong Man (Bill Williamson x Reader) - You watch Bill chop firewood from the porch of your home.

Mistletoe (Dutch Van der Linde x Reader) - Going to a Christmas party at the Marstons place seemed fine and dandy, until Dutch tries everything he can to get you under the mistletoe.

It's Beginning to look a lot like Christmas (Michael De Santa x Reader) - Michael hasn't been spending a lot of time with you now that he makes movies. Feeling bored, you take the Christmas decorations down from the attic and start decorating.

Northern Lights (Charles Smith x Reader) - Celebrating your first Christmas in Canada, Charles takes you to see the northern lights.

Winter Blues (Arthur Morgan x Reader) - When Mary shows up, unannounced, at your and Arthur's snow covered homestead, what should have been a happy December day, turns into an anxious one as you wonder if Arthur still loves her.

Ice Fishing (Kieran Duffy x Reader) - It's your first time ice fishing with Kieran and he makes sure he has everything before the long weekend.

Christmas Dinner (Dutch Van der Linde x Reader) - You and Dutch go to your parents for Christmas dinner and he hits it off with your father.

Ice Skating (Jack Marston x Reader) - You and Jack have been dating for a few months now, when it starts snowing and the lake has been frozen over, you convince him to ice skate.

Sledding (Kieran Duffy x Reader) - After buying a sled for the kids, you and Kieran spend the entire day pulling them around and pushing them down hills.

The Fat Man (Trevor Philips x Reader) - Ever since he was a child, Trevor Philips was scared of Santa. When you and him have children, he swore he wasn't going to introduce them to "the fat man." After pouting and begging him to let you do Santa with them, he reluctantly agreed.

Twas a night before Christmas (Lenny Summers x Reader) - Lenny reads "A night before Christmas" to your kids.

Sick on Christmas (Orville Swanson x Reader) - It's Christmas morning, and instead of opening presents like you wanted to, you're stuck in bed battling a really bad cold with Orville to help you.

Christmas Eve (Arthur Morgan x Reader) - After putting the kids to bed and putting the rest of the presents under the tree, you and Arthur slow dance in the living room.

Surprise! (Bill Williamson x Reader) - Bill has been weird all week, very giddy and anxious for Christmas day. When it comes, he brings out the one thing you have been wanting for YEARS; a blue merle border collie.

[zarkishere]

On the fifth day of Christmas, Zark gave to me...

art + chapter :3

chapter also below

_____ Some jobs go well, others not so much. TW// SLURS. _____ The next morning everyone woke up really early—the sun barely peaked down upon them from behind the mountains and clouds, the birds just starting to sing, the sky still very much a dark blue...yet Ruben was wide awake and heating up some cans by the time everyone had gotten up. He had trouble sleeping—always had, but with strangers that odd fear within him only got stronger. Technically, these people weren’t strangers, but they weren’t close enough for his fears to settle down either. He got up so early he felt like he hadn’t slept at all...but he needed something to do, so while the others slept he had gone out to get more sticks and dead leafs to start up the fire again. That wasn’t easy, given it had rained...most everything was dripping wet, which was unfortunate, but with patience and determination it ended up working. Arthur was the only one to give his thank yous—well, Javier tried, but was promptly ignored. They ate, cleaned their faces with a rag Javier had brought and gotten wet, and hit the road yet again. Thankfully, they had slept only a bit away from town, so by the time they got there the town was buzzing with people. Left and right, people worked and singed, calling others to come over and check out their goods, others argued and...it was just so nice, Ruben looked around with excitement and had to be stopped by the others from running to check stuff out more than once. Of course, daytime isn’t exactly a good time to rob, so Arthur ended up deciding that they should just make time by looking around. Maybe they’d find some other house to rob. Or just something exciting to look at… Mac and Davey left together, to no ones surprise, and Arthur left on his own...leaving Ruben and Javier (once again) set up to be alone in front of some shop where the others had split up.

To Ruben, it felt like some sort of bad joke by life itself, being stuck with this guy.

Javier cleared his throat. “ Entonces...quieres ir a ver algo? “ (So...you wanna check something out?) he asked, looking at Ruben expectantly. Ruben whined and groaned, having a bit of a temper tantrum…to which Javier chuckled at. “ It’s not funny “ Ruben huffed. “ It kind of is, though. “ Javier responded, a slight smile on his lips. “ How? I don’t want to be around you. “ Ruben responded, crossing his arms. Javier stopped smiling, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “ Pero porqué? En serio no entiendo qué te he hecho. “ (But why? I really don’t understand what I’ve done to you.)

“ Déjalo, si? Solo déjalo. “ (Leave it alone, alright? Just leave it.) Ruben grumbled, kicking the dirt. “ Pero—ay, dios...actuas como un niño mimado, sabes? “ (But—oh lord...you act like a spoiled brat, you know?) “ Tú eres el problema aquí, yo no! “ (You’re the problem here, not me!) Ruben said, pointing at Javier.

He slapped his hand away, growing more and more frustrated. “ No te he hecho nada, Rubén! Me miras como si te hubiera escupido la cara! “ (I haven’t dont anything to you, Ruben! You look at me as if i had spat on your face!) “ Fue culpa de TÚ gente que—” (It was YOUR peoples fault that--) his voice got cut off as another man approached. “ Can you two greasers cut it out!? Get the hell away from my shop! “ He yelled, practically squaring up to fight them. Javier tightened his fist and quickly looked at him, his face spitting venom, making the man cower without even a few words spoken. “ Listen—your arguing is—uhm...scaring my costumers, alright? Just...go argue somewhere else! “ He said, stuttering and stumbling over his words. Ruben never understood why people got so scared...that face didn’t have that effect on him. Strange. Ruben felt guilty for starting that argument... The two did end up leaving, walking around town with no more words spoken between them. Houses so big and tall, shops, horses, everything seemed so fancy. So clean and pristine. He felt like they didn’t fit in—well, Javier was better dressed than him, so he could get a pass...somewhat….people were still so very rude to them. They went through multiple places; plenty shops, a bar and even a park that was at the center of town. It was gorgeous; plenty trees, places to sit at, a huge water-fountain… “ You wanna toss a coin? “ Javier asked, taking a coin out of his pocket and placing it on the palm of his hand. “ Hm..? oh, sure. Gracias. “ (thanks) He took the coin, their hands briefly touching. Ruben placed it between his hands, closed his eyes and blew air into it before tossing the coin into the water. Javier watched him the whole time, eyes gentle in that special way that made Ruben want to smack it off. “ What did you ask for? “ Javier asked, leaning in ever so slightly, like a secret between them. “ I can’t tell you! If I do, it won’t come true. “ Ruben huffed, leaning away and crossing his arms with a slight pout. Javier chuckled and shook his head, shrugging as he started to walk off again. Ruben watched him for a couple of seconds before going after him. After a while of looking around Javier bought a new necklace—it was very nice, Ruben couldn’t lie—a silver cross with some...rocks..? in it. Javier was the religious type, Ruben had come to learn. He’d watched the man pray before meals a few times, or heard him mumbling other words of devotion at the far corners of camp. It was cute—well, no, not cute. More so...entertaining? No, no, that sounds weird too. It’s...well, it didn’t….well—

Mac smacked him, taking him out of his little mind travel. “ Caralho mano! “ (god-damn, dude!) Ruben yelped, smacking the others hand away, which earned him another smack from Mac. A little harder this time. “ Don’t fockin raise yer hands at me, lad, i’ll snap yer neck like a twig. “ He said, voice low and threatening...did he mean it, though? No idea. Mac could never turn off his ‘scary’ factor. Davey and Arthur were there now, too. Must’ve spaced out...time felt like it flew by.

Ruben pouted, puffing out his cheeks. Mac snorted, rolling his eyes. “ Quit that, doll. “ He said, flicking Ruben’s nose. “ C’mon, let’s go. “ “ Is it time? “ Ruben asked, following behind Mac. He looked up at the sky as the group made their way to the outskirts of town; it was becoming dark, but the clouds had completely left by now. No more rain, it seems. Eventually they all made it out, small talk here and there, but no conversations of real matter...things only got more serious when they sneaked behind the house… It was a quite large home with a stone fence around it, seemingly divided into 2 to 3 levels, standing on a foundation of pink bricks and a blueish roof. There was balcony on the back, and from where Ruben stood he could see a bench or two. The walls of the home consisted of light pink wood with white corner boards. Many windows were strewn around the walls of the house and on top of the building rested a slim chimney, but as there was no smoke it could be guessed no one was inside at the moment… "Alright, here’s the plan," Arthur drawled, taking charge since he was Dutch’s son. "Me, Ruben, and Javier'll hop the wall—'cause we’re the quiet ones. Y’all two go on down and wait for us to unlock it. Once we do, just grab whatever you can. Got it?" “ Can’t Javier go with the other two? “ Ruben asked. “ Wha—what did I do?? “ Javier asked, looking at him confused. “ I thought we were getting along. “ “ Well, no, I still dislike you. “ The other answered with a shrug. “ Pero—” (But—) Javier’s voice was cut off by Arthur’s. “ Just shut up. This is how we’ll be doing things. “ They nodded, and the plan started. The three went up to the fence, scaling it and cautiously walking on it toward the balcony….but once there, they realized it was locked. Since Mac and Davey were waiting on their spot, they had no way to say what was up, so they just had to figure out another way in... “ Who locks balconies?? “ Asked Javier quietly. Arthur sighed, looking around. Eventually, his eyes landed on a window that happened to be open. He poked Ruben’s shoulder. “ Think you could get that? “ He asked. Ruben nodded and took a few steps back, before sprinting forward and jumping for it—BARELY catching the ledge. This job wasn’t going well so far, but Ruben trusted it could be fixed, so he pulled himself up and made his way into the abode; it was even fancier inside, big central stairs, a chandelier...which made him instinctively grimace. He made his way to the balconies door, unlocking it from the inside and flashing Arthur a smile as the other two walked in. “ I’ll go unlock the door for the other two, go gather stuff already. “ He said, and the two Mexicans nodded. The three parted ways as they did their thing. Ruben went to the bathroom first, finding a good bunch of jewels; pretty necklaces, pins and some rings. He placed a silver one around his index finger, admiring it for a few seconds...deciding he’d keep that one for himself. Then, he went to the bed-room, going through the drawers and closets, finding a few stacks of money...everything seemed to be going well—Until Arthur came sprinting into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Although, it was clear he made the effort to make little to no noise.

[outlawwithaheart]

How clingy are the rdr2 boys?

No warnings! Just some kinda fluff relationship headcannons! Asks are open! :) Not proof read really just a lazy post. Pretty sure I got all of them. If you want a separate post for any of them just ask :D

Arthur

He's not clingy

Of course, he gives you all the attention you want

So if you're clingy, he's going to give you a lot of attention

But, he leaves camp for days at a time and what not, and usually doesn't want to to come along because it can be dangerous

He makes up for lost time though!

He leaves you drawings of yourself at where you sleep

Dutch

I'm sorry y'all saw the way he treated Molly

Sorry Dutch simps let me be optimistic

So let's say he actually loves you

And let's say.. hypothetically that you love him back

He's a perfect amount of clingy

It depends on the day though

If you leave for a day, he's okay

He of course showers you with compliments all the time

Javier

He's a little clingy!!

Well, on a scale of one to ten.. maybe a 6.792

Most days you're already chillin with him anyways

He's always touching you

Holding your hand, shoulders touching, his hand on top of your hand, his hand on your thigh, his arm around you, etc.

But if you're gone for a day or so he'll be all over you

Charles

Not clingy

If you want affection.. well he'd do anything for you

It's not that he's not affectionate, just not clingy

He does enjoy his alone time, and his quiet time!

He of course does like just being next to you in a comfortable silence

That's actually his favorite way to spend time with you

Just doing your own thing in the same space :)

Sean

Very clingy!!

He highkey follows you around like a lost puppy a lot of the time

It gets worse when he's drunk

He's all over you all the time

God forbid you leave for a few days

He will not detach from your body LMAO

He rambles on to you about nothing and everything

Micah

He's not clingy

But if you want affection

He'll complain a lot a lot

But he still gives you affection

Just for his little cowpoke awee

He secretly enjoys you begging for his attention so it's fine

John

He's a little clingy when he's drunk

But other than that he can hold off on his own

He's okay with you leaving for a few days even

He does ask for your attention sometimes though

Not outright though

He's kinda awkward but it's okay

Hosea

He's not that clingy

Occasionally though he can be

He's less of a touchy guy, more of a words guy

He's always telling you how much he loves you

Bill

Are there any Bill stans out here? Does ANYONE LIKE BILL?

Show yourselves

Anyways

He's very clingy when he's drunk probably

Any other time he's usually just fine

[omgwhatchloe]

guys in fics please stop leaving out seans mean side😭

hes always presented as so jolly when i read fics about him, but do people forget arthur has an antagonistic line towards him about how he mouths off at people? sean has tendencies to purposely irritate people who haven’t done anything to him, mouth off unprovoked at micah (though micah always provokes something negative in people by existing), have many opinions about who he hates (and its a lot), and even responds to arthur in a defensive and sometimes even rude way.

it is such a big part of him that he’s a bastard!! as a sean fan i can say, HE IS MEAN. like in a bully way, he has such a mean side that is presented so much in the game but so little in fan content!! (i might also be guilty of this i fear). this is why he is described so much as irritating and a little bastard by other characters in the game. he doesnt just annoy people, sean can also be purposely loud, irritating unprovoked and just rude.

yes, this could be defense mechanism, a barrier to who he is that he has set up, but its still there! its still something he does, a way we act, something that is in his character and the game!

im writing a fic about him now, and i’m making sure i make him problematic in some situations because i think it fits him. here’s somewhere i think i present that (the fic has just started):

The older man swirled his burnt coffee around in his mug, choosing his words before he spoke. “We’re going to run out of bandages,” His voice seemed absent of sympathy. This irritated Sean, as most things would to a man in his state, feeling more like a blood-fountain than a human. 

“Last I checked,” The Irishman snarked, “your legs are working fine, your horse is right there and the nearby town ain't gone nowhere either.”

Smith had an expression that made it look like he was going to confirm his legs worked fine by kicking Sean in what teeth he had left. 

something i want people to recognise when they read this was charles didn't deserve to be spoken too like this, sean is being an arsehole, and im not trying to make him have an epic roast moment by talking to charles like this.

[zanazirafanfic]

Preview: "A Wee Bit Wobbly" (Red Dead Whumpcember #13)

Hello, everyone! Whumpcember part 13 is proceeding nicely. Prompts for this one are "restraints" and "collapse." I'm planning to release it sometime tomorrow (8/28) but in the meantime, here's a tiny taste of what's to come. Enjoy!

(NOTE: I'm being very, very mean to poor Sean in this one. If detailed descriptions of wounds and wound care squick you out, the preview is fine but the full fic may not be.)

~ RDR ~

"'Mierda…' Javier whispered behind his hand, sounding like he might be sick. Even Charles, who unquestionably possessed the strongest constitution of the four of them, couldn't quite manage to keep the look of horrified disgust off of his face, though he carefully schooled his expression back into a mask of calm by the time Sean removed his other boot and looked up at him.

'I, eh… warned ya it weren't a pretty sight, boys,' Sean said with a shaky laugh, as if that weren't the understatement of the goddamn century.

'Not a pretty sight? Sean, they… what the hell did they do to you?'

'Ahh, there's nothin' that gobshite Skelding coulda come up with that ol' Deadeye MacGuire couldn't handle, Artie. I never talked a word about Dutch or the rest o' yous, never ya worry!'

His forced, overly-bright smile revealed the absence of a front tooth that had definitely been there before the ferry job, and Arthur felt sick down to his core.

'That ain't what I'm worried about, kid, I… Jesus Christ…'"

[aoioozora]

Ugh Sean Macguire is so silly

You were drunk out of your mind, sitting by the campfire on Sean's lap. He was just as drunk as you, laying his head on your shoulder and giggling after he cracked a joke at your expense that was so dumb that you got offended by it.

"Yer so fun to tease!" he continued to giggle, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist to pull you closer.

You grumbled. "I hate you, Sean."

"Oh, but I love ya," he said mischievously as he raised his head and kissed you on your lips.

You squeaked in surprise, but the pleasant softness of his lips and the taste of beer more intoxicating than the alcohol itself eased you into the kiss, making you melt. The corner of his lip lifted as the two of you kissed. He then pulled away just slightly enough that you could feel his breath fanning over your lips.

"So do you still hate me?" he whispered, hand squeezing your waist.

"Always and forever," you declared, pressing close.

Inspired by this

[johnmarstonswife]

guys. i’m planning on writing my first fanfic ever. like, in the history of my life, so it will be monumental trust 🙏🙂‍↕️

i’m going to obviously do rdr because— duh it’s my whole life and personality ❤️ so the pairing will be…. 🥁🥁🥁 (if u couldn’t guess from the tags and banner already)

SEAN MACGUIRE x FEM!READER ‼️ because oml this man does NOT get enough love. so i will be feeding my fellow macguire enjoyers 🥰🥰 disclaimer tho, i only ever really wrote essays and some creative writing for school and that, so it will be slightly scuffed. but dw, the plot will eat !!!

general information ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔe ꒱ྀི১ ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ ₊˚ෆ

EDIT : it’s out now !!

so, the story will be pretty long and spread with each releasing chapter and since it’s the holidays for me i’ll have more time to spend on it compared to when i start school up again 💪 so that’s a plus. the main part of the story takes place between red dead online (1898) and red dead redemption 2 (1899)— AND MAYBE AN EPILOGUE (yes sean will make it)‼️ so if you haven’t played rdo, the story should be roughly followable (i’ll try and put as much info in about the main points of the story since i am basically getting the whole plot of the reader from rdo) but you would more easily grasp what’s going on if you have played.

———————————————————————-

to be honest, i wasn’t really planning on ever creating my own fanfics, honestly reading them satiated me enough— for a short while. before i was DESPERATE for sean content and i took it in my own hands to fuel my addiction 🥰🎀 so if this doesn’t get recognition; it probably still won’t be dropped since i’m mostly doing this for myself, and posting it on here for any other people as desperate for sean 🫶 also the releases for each chapter will for sure vary, since me working with a deadline does NOT work out, trust me 😭😭🙏

see you soon ! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓

see you when i post my first chapter !! suggestions on what to add into the story (like small details, interactions, missions, situations, etc.) are open in my questions and requests ❤️

[strawberrinoz]

i forgot to post these rdr2 doodles from a while ago OOPSIES silly me

[keppa-nero]

HEY PEOPLE ❗❗❗

I don't know if currently I have many questions in my askbox for requests, BUT I'VE GOT SOME IDEAS I'LL DO SOMETIME NOW

All RDR2 :]

-Hate Headcanon I'll do for Colm O'Driscoll x Male Reader .

-Some Drunk! Sean/Arthur/Dutch/Bill in Valentine, probably a drunk fight XD.

-Angsty things for Bill/Kieran/Arthur

All characters One-Shots about some general idea:

I wanna do something like, their reaction to a really reserved Reader swearing or snapping at someone, probably Micah 🐁.

A gentle-manish Reader trying to heat up the others at Colter

How all characters would approach you for a dance/flirting while drunk.

AND MORE❗MY ASKBOX IS COMPLETELY

OPEN FOR REQUESTS.

[esquilone]

❤︎ My Masterlist

──────────୨ৎ───────────

RDR2 one-shots links 🔗

❤︎ Arthur Morgan

-> Creamy Strawberry Cake | part 1 | part 2

❤︎ Javier Escuella

-> Neighbor

❤︎ Micah Bell

-> Between sheets of fire

[coweyloaf]

So, the pull has ended and the fics you picked were:

✨Characters reaction to finding out your a toe walker

And

⭐Roller skating with characters modern AU

For anyone wanting another Rdr2 character just keep in mind Im only writing mxm so please suggest male characters :))

Edit: I accidentally put Kieran down twice, ignore that, I'll add up the percentage for him when it's over