#Sean macguire x female reader

[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… 😭

[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.

[esquilone]

The Van Derline Gang Boys If You Kissed Them For No Reason:

RDR2 | Head canon’s

Arthur Morgan

Dutch Van Der Linde

John Marston

Javier Escuella

Micah Bell

Kieran Duffy

Charles Smith

Sean Macguire

.

.

.

maybe I intend to do more…

[softrozene]

Short and Feisty Female S/O that Likes to Cuddle

Ladymogar asked: Aaaye I’m always so happy to see new writing blogs in fandoms I love ❤️ could I get hcs for Arthur, Charles, John, and/or Sean for having a smol s/o? Like short and fiesty but also into cuddly times? Thanks doll, I’ve really enjoyed your writing so far!

rdr2 masterlist

I adored this request and had to do all the characters suggested AND I added Javier because he is delicious. I would say the reader in this is under 5’5” (165.1 cm) as that is what is considered short where I am from but it’s different everywhere! Anyway, I’m glad you enjoy my writings, Hon!

I did go off this link when I think of the characters’ heights!

Originally published on March 31, 2020

Arthur, Charlies, Javier, John, Sean x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff

-

 Arthur Morgan-

Honestly, for him, I think he would be so fucking smitten with you

You would literally be everything he wanted in a partner

Small (or well smaller than what he would’ve imagined) but so much cuter and god the fire in you? To die for

He can 100% see himself risking it all for you and going to settle down to have a family with you- but that’s the future for him

The present with the gang around he would be hard to read

Or that’s how he likes to imagine himself

The second you stroll up to him and have to crane your neck to look up is the second his heart melts and that gentle giant comes out (maybe for a second but everyone in the gang definitely saw it)

Your feisty side originally made him assume that you weren’t the touchy-feely type

So when you first cuddled with him he was probably as stiff as a board and awkward but with you coaxing him into more cuddles which he always accepted he has realized how much he loves them

Poor boy is definitely touch-starved so he would never ever deny your cuddles no matter what time of day it is or who is present (Though he may get flustered)

It would become one of his favorite things to do with you

 Charles Smith-

Omg for Charles since he was a loner before the group and since the group has mostly taller people he would be astounded by your height at first

I feel like he would be on edge the whole time and make sure that he never ever harms you

That would probably be his number 1 fear in the relationship (Poor babe is scared he’ll crush you with his pinky or something)

It would take him a while to get used to being in a relationship with someone as small as you but thanks to your feisty side it makes him feel more comfortable eventually

It definitely eases him that you are not as fragile as you look (though let’s be honest he probably would adore how fragile you look since he would take on the protector role in the relationship)

He knows you are fully capable of protecting yourself though

This boy is touch-starved to but he has boundaries

He would set certain times or have cuddles only restricted to nights and away from prying eyes

He tries to compromise with you but really he believes that intimate moments should remain in private and once you do get to the cuddle session he will be absolute putty in your hands (Or you will be. It probably all depends on his mood)

 Javier Escuella-

This gorgeous man would never say anything about your attitude or height… in English of course

In Spanish, he’ll be teasing you relentlessly and you’ll be dying to find out what he’s saying

Your feisty attitude with this just makes him happy (and a tad impressed if you get mad enough to try and hit him)

No one else is allowed to comment about your height beside him- You both make sure of that

He would flirt with you constantly and without shame

And that’s how you would eventually get together

When he finds out you are a cuddler?

He’ll embrace and relish in it

He’s a romantic through and through so he won’t care where, when, and who is present he will always encourage and initiate the cuddles too

Though because he is a romance it could lead somewhere else and that’s when whoever present needs to speak up is

If you are outside the camp with him expect him to expect you to remain by his side or on his arm

He just likes the fact he can proudly show you off but if it ain’t your thing he won’t force it

Is absolute favorite time with you is when the two of you are cuddling, you in his lap, and he has the guitar on your lap strumming away as he sings softly into your ear

 John Marston-

He would be the one that wouldn’t care at first

It just doesn’t catch his attention and I feel like he would try to avoid you since your small stature and feisty nature reminds him of Abigail

Though once he does give in and you two become friends he’ll start to appreciate your stature and nature

He won’t comment on your height but he will purposely place things out of your reach to watch you struggle for it or so he could be “smooth” and help you (Yes imagine the cliché thing where the guy goes right behind the girl and they touch hands or something lmao- that would be John if he likes you)

Once he is confident that you aren’t like Abigail and you won’t get mad at him for teasing or initiating contact with you he’ll become more confident

I feel like he would be the first to try to cuddle and so when you let him he would just be awestruck

He doesn’t care too much about PDA around the gang but every once in a while he’ll pull you onto his lap and honestly if you let him or encourage him- he’ll probably marry you on the spot

John will appreciate you wanting to cuddle him but sometimes he’ll have his moods where he’ll need to be alone for a while

Don’t worry though because he will come back and feel bad for rejecting a cuddle and he’ll try to make it up to you

 Sean Macguire-

Would be the one to immediately say something about your height the first time you show up in the gang

He has no shame in teasing you, flirting with you, constantly picking on you

When he genuinely likes someone he’ll seem like a bit of a jerk but the cuteness of it is undeniable

Everyone in the gang will know why he acts like that and eventually you will too

However, because of your feisty nature, the beginning of the friendship and relationship would be both of your personalities clashing

He would 100% enjoy this though where you may get annoyed beyond relief

He is the one who would pick you up and carry you around camp to either piss you off or show off your smaller stature

1000000% Would be the one to use your head as an armrest and be all smug bout it

I think in general that Sean with a very short s/o would be a hilarious relationship

He could have his romantic moments but there will be absolutely no witnesses to show this

Unless he goes to Arthur, Hosea, or Dutch for help on how to charm you (That is the only time those three will have not lost faith in Sean’s romantic life)

As for cuddling, this boy lives for it

However, his hormones also live for it so the cute cuddles can and probably will turn into something else rather fast

Again he has no shame so he would try and cuddle (and do more tbh) with the gang present

[koshkahhh]

Dutch Van Der Linde🌹🖤

Just him smoking a cigar in camp🌹🖤

•Clemens Point Chapter 3🧡•

[mentally-a-slut]

Masterlist!

figured i've posted enough to justify making one of these, so here we are!

Red Dead Redemption 2

One Shots

Staring Problem (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader)

Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader SMUT) part 2 of Staring Problem, can be read as stand alone

Chapter Fics

Luck Ain't Got Nothing to Do With It (Poly! Arthur and Charles x Fem!OC) teaser

Baldur's Gate 3

Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." (Gale x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Prompt: "You deserve to be loved." (Astarion x Fem!Tav/Reader SMUT)

Tav finds out how practiced Gale's tongue really is. (Gale x Fem!Tav/Reader SMUT)

Stardew Valley

none yet!

[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."

[azures-bazar]

Cradle of Forest

Another one with a soft Arthur !

This one was a bit rushed, I'm sorry for my mistakes.

I've made the gif just above using a female model, but don't mind it ! The reader is Gender Neutral here !

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutral!reader

Word count : 2.25k

Short summary : As you take a break from the gang to get some fresh air, Arthur believes you're going to leave them once and for all.

A/note : The forest around Clemens Point is BIG.

Tags : fluff, Arthur is crying here, anxiety, forest by night, chapter 3, Clemens Point, comfort, moonlight

You finally had time to escape from the rest of the gang, being overwhelmingly exhausted by Sean’s loud voice. MacGuire was drunk and, probably out of a misplaced pride, kept shouting it out loud that night. You could not get any rest after being on guard duty all day long, his tent was unfortunately next to yours. And listening to him brag about the few more whiskeys he could drink before passing out only made you feel nervous, if not angry at him. You liked his attitude and carefree personality. However, that night, you needed some quiet. And he was not willing to give you any sort of rest.

You had silently left the gang for a few minutes, to say the least. This is what you really thought, you just needed to clear your mind. You knew Dutch would not stand a deserter, so you did your best not to be noticed, slipping from your tent like a snake, hiding in the shadows of Clemens Point’s trees. You then proceeded passing between Lenny and Charles, being on guard duty, running a little away from the camp to get closer to Clemens Cove. You liked this place a lot, as it was peaceful enough to make you forget about Dutch’s flaws. The latter had spent a vast majority of his day trying to give you a speech about faith while you were patrolling around the hideout, but you did not feel in the mood.

The moon was shining brightly that night, giving you a clear view of the path that was ahead. A few rays of moonlight guided you through the trees before you would get to your desired destination, you loved the sight of the lake by night. In the end, you decided not to go any further, being far away enough for the camp and hidden between these trees, in a beautiful glade. However, quickly enough, you had noticed someone had been following you.

"Excuse me."

You turned back, quickly recognising Arthur’s voice. He was standing a feet away from you, his arms crossed on his chest. Arthur could not sleep that night either, so he spent some time smoking near the central tree before witnessing you leaving your tent. Despite trusting you, your distant ethereal sight made him drop his cigarette and silently follow you with a set of negative emotions, hiding behind the nearest tree in case you would turn back. However, he had decided to leave his hiding spot to face you.

"Arthur ?" you gasped

"Didn’t know you were a wanderer !" he laughed

"I… I couldn’t sleep."

"Me neither, Y/N. Me neither."

You both sighed, awkwardly looking at each other for a moment before the two of you started chuckling. What a very peculiar place to meet ! However, Arthur’s soft laugh was not forcibly made of happy thoughts, he was releasing a sudden anxiety your short departure had triggered.

"Don’t tell Dutch." you smiled. "You know how he reacts and…-"

"Why would I tell Dutch ?"

"I don’t know, ‘cause you’re like his son and you often tell him everything and… well…"

"And ?"

Arthur tilted his head and dramatically rose his left eyebrow with a smirk. He did really expect you to finish your sentence, but his soft smile and charming glance felt like someone had cursed you, taking away your ability to speak. How handsome he was, you could not deny it ! And these rays of moonlight caressing his broad shoulders and a half of his face were not helping you finding your best words ! You blushed, not being able to voice your thoughts anymore. Arthur felt incomprehension, you could feel how confused he was, still doing his best to display his most beautiful grin.

"And… I can’t even remember what I wanted to say." you shrugged. "You’re gonna take me back to camp, huh ?"

"No. Sean’s not asleep yet."

He chuckled, moving closer to you, gently placing his large hands on your hips. You could feel how sweaty his hands were and, as you placed yours above his arms, you gave him your most concerned look. Arthur was never really talking about his short moments of anxiety, his hands and eyes always spoke for him. The two of you had been close since your induction into the gang, you could easily read his emotions from his gesture or his eyes. At this moment, you knew he had certainly felt a sudden burst of anxiety, judging by his sweaty hands which were still shaking above your hips.

"Is something wrong ?" you asked

"No."

"You sure ?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. He hated having you worry about him. Whenever you would voice your concern, he would tell you he’s not a child to be worried about. Indeed, Arthur was not a child ! But you loved him so much that any single negative emotion coming from him always felt like a stab in the heart. You just wanted his happiness and knew he would not get what he deserved as long as Dutch would belittle him the way he did. You had seen the leader often talking about Arthur as a teenager, Morgan himself appeared to behave differently when he was around him anyway. In a way, you were quite right to worry, since Arthur was not feeling very well.

You quickly looked into his pale eyes, your thumbs stroking his large arms. The way his eyebrows moved, his eyes twitched, his lips softly wobbled… everything made you feel more than concerned about what your favourite Van der Linde boy felt at the moment. You could finally notice a tear roll on his cheek, causing you to quickly move your hands up to his face. However, you had no time to reach his cheeks, Arthur had quickly grabbed you against him, holding you so close that he could easily break your spine.

"Arthur…? What’s wrong ?" you asked, shaking

You heard Arthur sniff a little, his hands firmly clutched onto your shirt. He buried his face into your hair, biting his lips. You felt your heart rate increase as you quickly felt like you were the one responsible. His tears started rolling down your neck, you shakily rubbed his back. You had done something wrong, and you knew it. Even if your escape had probably been harmless, Arthur was left terrified.

"I thought you was gonna leave…" he mumbled

Arthur had one fear since Dutch brought you in, only one. It was to see you leave. He had lost so many other folks due to his lifestyle that the sole idea of seeing your empty tent without any of your belongings was the only thing he dreaded. His lifestyle made him loose Mary, Eliza and Isaac, friends and flings before meeting you. You were his ray of sunlight, the brightest star in his empty sky, the most beautiful flower of his garden. You brought him joy and happiness, he could not even imagine himself without you anymore.

The sole sight of you leaving the hideout made Arthur shiver. He had followed you, deeply terrified you would not come back, dreading your disappearance like plague. Arthur trusted you enough, but he could not trust the rest of the world around you. You could feel how much he loved you as one of his hands moved from your waist to your hair, you shakily hushed him. Arthur was sobbing in your embrace and there was nothing you could do to stop his cries.

"Oh, Arthur…" you whispered, still shocked by his thoughts about you leaving the gang

"I’m sorry, Y/N…" he sobbed, quickly stepping back while you kept him into your embrace. "I’m… I hate cryin’, you know. And… I hate having you worry ‘bout me."

"Arthur, I was not going to leave !"

Arthur looked down, unable to face you. He was ashamed about being seen crying, especially by his special one. He thought his tears would make him lose all his credibility as a raspy voiced cowboy, as your personal bodyguard and overall pillar. Whenever you felt bad, you could easily talk to him. He would be the one to hold you close, caress your skin, kiss you, even holding you against him until you would fall asleep. He was the one who had been around you since you came, the one who had spent time inside your tent, reassuring you whenever you felt bad, watching over you until you would fall asleep. He was ashamed that his sobs he could barely control would make him look bad.

Your hands quickly moved to his face, forcing him to turn his head towards you. Tears kept flowing on his cheeks, he could not stop them. As your eyes met his, he quickly bit his lower lip and tried looking down, but your hands firmly held his head on place. There was no way for him to run away from your embrace, unless he would use his force. And, since Arthur was terrified of hurting you, you knew he would never do it.

"Listen carefully, Morgan." you said. "I’m never going to leave you. Ever. I love you too much to leave you behind, and I swear, I’ll be with you until I die."

"Really…?" Arthur hiccupped with a smile

"There’s no way I’m leaving such a handsome cowboy behind. No damn way."

Arthur chuckled, ready to disagree with you about his physical appearance. You allowed your hands to move to his shoulders, quite relieved to see him smile. He kept crying behind his grin, not able to stop all these crocodile tears to roll down his cheeks. You gently rubbed his arms, kissing his lips in the process. You could not leave him like that without sharing a kiss !

"I love you, Arthur." you whispered. "More than my anyone in this damn world."

Your relationship was both strange and beautiful to anyone’s eyes, the brightest picture of two folks who never expected to fall for each other. He loved you, his eyes were quick to express it before he would even voice his feelings. He had stars in his eyes, more than the ones the sky had to offer. He loved every single attention you gave him, and a kiss was probably the purest one of them. The best feeling for him to feel better.

"I love you too." he whispered

How hard it was to resist to this beautiful voice ! You smiled, kissing him another time. The scenery was just too perfect for you both not to share at least one kiss ! Arthur held you against him while your lips touched so beautifully, causing you to feel like the two of you had fused into one being. One entity, so pure and so wicked at once. A couple of outlaws, kissing in a beautiful forest under the moonlight… what a sight to be painted ! He did not mind, as long as you were with him.

You spent an hour or two in this forest, enjoying each other’s presence. Arthur kept kissing you, relieved about what you had told him. The forest around you felt like the most beautiful place for you to be at, this small glade felt like a cradle. The cradle of this beautiful small forest near Clemens Point, where the two of you felt home, felt free. No gang, no duty, just the two of you, with the sound of the leaves above your heads. It was perfect, it felt great.

At some time, the two of you started feeling a little tired, heading back to the hideout. Sean was asleep, thankfully. Most of the gang was asleep, only a few night owls like Micah were still sitting by the fire, but they did not bother. Arthur firmly held your hand as you guided him past his tent, quickly hearing Dutch and Molly argue about something while you walked by. As you settled on the broken dock, Arthur sat near you and, a few minutes later, laid down to place his head on your thighs. It was a rather surprising move from this cowboy, but you liked it.

By resting his head on your thighs, Arthur felt safe, and knew you were safe as well. Somehow, it reminded him of his youth, as he used to lay his head on his mother’s thighs when he was a small child, whenever he would cry or simply feel sad about something. He had never done such thing with you before, he never dared. However, that night, as exhausted as he was after this wave of emotions, all he needed was to be with you. Nothing else mattered but feeling you close to him. He even moaned of pleasure, knowing his head rested on your thighs !

You watched the moon shining above the two of you as Arthur closed his eyes. You gently caressed his hair with a smile, enjoying having this tank-shaped cowboy resting on you. You knew Arthur would probably not display such a behaviour afterwards, so you just enjoyed it and allowed him to fall asleep. You kept glancing around to check if nobody was watching, Micah was not to be seen. He was probably drinking some whiskey with Bill, you could hear them talk about something. However, right at this moment, nothing else mattered. It was just Arthur.

Only Arthur.

[keppa-nero]

Yo guys 🐓.

I wanted to say that I have open requests for any RDR2 x Male Reader that y'all want me to do. I'd do female too, but honestly I don't know how to write from a girl's POV.

I'm already thinking on making some;

Some Kieran Fluff/Smut, I love this man

Any random scenario with Bill, y'all can give me ideas.

Any Fluff/Smut/Angsty shit you guys want, anything but MICAH and John because he's married. I'll do only the following

Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Bill Williamson, Charles Smith, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy, Reverend, Colm O'Driscoll, the Braithwaites.

[Ladies] Karen Jones, Mary-Beth, Tilly Jackson, Mary Linton (Smth platonic please), Abigail Roberts.

One-Shots about one specific idea with multiple characters.

Please give me entertaining ideas 🗿.

PLEASE ACTUALLY DO COMMENT AND GIVE ME IDEAS, I'M DESPERATE TO WRITE AND POST SOMETHING 😹🔫.

[maskedteaser]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎👽 RULES

hello there! if you're here, that means i somehow managed to link my rules to my intro post, or you're just scrolling through my blog...

this list contains :

💿 what i will and won't write

💿 fandoms i'm in and characters i can write for

anyways, let's get into it!:

👽 WHAT I CAN DO:

🛸 FEMALE, MALE, GENDER NEUTRAL READER

[ KEEP IN MIND THAT I AM A FEMALE SO MY TAKES ON MALE READER MAY NOT BE ACCURATE ]

🛸 HEADCANON LISTS

🛸 FLUFF

🛸 SMUT

[NEVER WRITTEN ONE BUT I AM CONFIDENT ENOUGH TO TRY]

🛸 ANGST

🛸 ONE SHOTS

🛸 BLURBS

🛸 PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

🛸 CHARACTER X CHARACTER

[MAY NOT WRITE SPECIFIC SHIPS, PLEASE ASK BEFORE REQUESTING]

🛸 POLY RELATIONSHIPS

[ I AM POLY MYSELF ]

🛸 SONG FICS

[ FICS BASED ON SONG YOU PICK ]

👽 WHAT I WON'T DO:

🛸 NON CON / SA / R4PE

🛸 STRONG BDSM / MASTER-SUB DYNAMIC

[ I AM A SWITCH IN BED, I WILL WRITE

SWITCHY NSFW IF I CAN...]

🛸 POLYSEXUAL SEX SCENES

[I AM NOT EXPERIENCED AT ALL]

🛸 KINKS GENERALLY CONSIDERED DISGUSTING

[ SCAT, VORE etc.]

🛸 AGE PLAY, DDLC AND VARIATONS OF THAT

🛸 RACE PLAY / PET PLAY

🛸 ANYTHING ILLEGAL THAT WILL PUT ME IN JAIL U KNOW

👽 this list may change. if you have any questions - use ask box, i will anwser anything

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎👽 WHAT FANDOMS I WRITE FOR

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎( pink ones are the ones i won't write for )

[if your character is not on the list, ask if i will write for them, i might've forgot to add them]

THIS LIST MAY CHANGE!!!

👽 RED DEAD REDEMTION 2:

🛸 ARTHUR MORGAN (fav but different category)

🛸 CHARLES SMITH

🛸 JOHN MARSTON

🛸 DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

🛸 HOSEA MATTHEWS

🛸 JAVIER ESCUELLA (MY FAV)

🛸 SEAN MACGUIRE (#2 FAV)

🛸 KIERAN DUFFY

🛸 LENNY SUMMERS

🛸 JOSIAH TRELAWNY (#3 FAV)

🛸 SADIE ADLER

🛸 ABIGAIL ROBERTS

🛸 MICAH BELL

🛸 BILL WILLIAMSON

🛸 JACK MARSTON (OLDER VERSION)

👽 APEX LEGENDS

🛸 OCTANE

🛸 MIRAGE

🛸 BLOODHOUND

🛸 WATTSON

🛸 WRAITH

🛸 REVENANT

🛸 LOBA

🛸 FUSE

🛸 SEER

🛸 VALKYRIE

🛸 GIBLARTAR

🛸 PATHFINDER (can do platonic)

🛸 CAUSTIC

🛸 CRYPTO

👽 CALL OF DUTY

🛸 JOHHNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH

🛸 SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

🛸 KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

🛸 JOHN PRICE

🛸 KEEGAN (SORRY I JUST DON'T KNOW HIM ENOUGH)

🛸 MAKAROV

🛸 ALEJANDRO VARGAS

🛸 KONIG

not adding tags cause why would i...

[robin-writess]

the low amount of sean macguire content is making me so sad. can I please request javier x reader (gender is up to you, I don't mind any, I'm a female tho)

where Sean is alive (obviously) and goes to that party at "the gilded cage" mission with reader and they both dress super fancy and cute and Sean is absolutely STUNNED with how reader looks and it's actually the first time he thinks to himself "oh my (name) is like so pretty I better make her mine" or sum

And if you'd like you can also write events that happen during the party but it's up to you

I DON'T KNOW IT'S SO LATE AT NIGHT I JUST WANT TO READ ABOUT SEAN 😭😭😭

Yes ofc I love this request!! <3

But with the Javier x reader and then Sean being head over heels for the reader at this party, do you mean like Javier and the reader are dating and when Sean and the reader go to the party he ends up confessing to her and they kiss or something orrr do you want Javier and the reader to stay together and Sean just admire her and keep his feelings to himself?

[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 ❤️

[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

[softrozene]

Sean is Struggling

Anon asked: Hi yes, I'm new to the fandom as well, but what about a Sean x Fem!Reader where after everything that had happened to him (before Arthur saved him in ch2) he's struggling with being touched and how the reader slowly gets him used to it? And like, angst hurt/comfort bc its 10:17pm and I want sad things that get resolved 

rdr2 masterlist

Sean is a good boi who deserves all the love

Originally published on January 12, 2020

Sean MacGuire x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst probably not enough but fluff to combat it, Sean has PTSD, Karen and Sean don’t happen lmao

Words: ~1k

You’ve been with this group long enough to know everyone on a personal level. You care for all of them equally and know when something is wrong. It just so happens that Sean is just a tad different. Okay, a lot different, and Arthur and Hosea may have picked up on that.

The relentless teasing you received from Arthur when his group brought Sean back was embarrassing. However, you could easily push whatever feelings you have away because as soon as Sean got to camp and you tried to give him one of the hugs he claims to always adore, he hesitated.

He never hesitates to hug you.

It was only a small thing but you noticed it and you kept your eyes and ears on him to see if anything else was amiss. There was plenty.

The male already drank like a pirate but it seemed to have worsened since he got back. Thankfully, he would hold off on being drunk until it got late but the odd thing was he drank alone or only ever with Arthur and John. Sometimes Hosea but rarely. That was the other odd thing. Arthur seemed to have gotten closer to Sean but in a way, you’d never under but desperately want to.

It made you sick to your stomach not knowing how to help the boy who is obviously having problems. So one night you decided to ask.

~*~

“Sean, Arthur, may I take a seat?” You ask softly looking at the fire.

Sean has already gone quiet. You hate when he goes quiet around you. It’s like he doesn’t want you there. You’re about to abort the mission when Arthur nods his head.

“Here, take my seat. It’s closer to the fire. I’m going to actually head to bed,” Arthur shares ignoring the glare Sean sends his way.

Arthur leaves and you sit down with hesitation.

Your heart starts to ache and you have a slight panic. Is whatever he went through that terrible that he doesn’t even want to be by you? Did you remind him of something? The thought nearly kills you.

“(Name), oh no. What the hell did I do?! Why are you crying?!” The poor fiery red-head is stunned.

You are stunned as well. You had no idea you had busted out into tears as your fingers brush your cheeks. You quickly try to recompose yourself and ask the question you’ve been dying to ask.

“Are you okay, Sean? Scratch that, tell me how I can help you. I noticed that even Arthur is trying to comfort you by being your drinking buddy but that isn’t going to work Sean. I can’t pretend I don’t see all the flinches you do anymore. All the little scared moments you have that you think no one else notices. Please tell me how I can help you,” You say your voice breaking in multiple parts.

Hearing the hurt in your voice, the pain you felt for him, it nearly made him cry. He doesn’t cry in front of others. He puts down his bottle and pulls you onto his lap. His arms immediately wrap around you tightly and he’s trembling, shaking like a damn leaf.

“Sorry (Name). I’ve been so fucking stupid as of late. I’ve been avoiding you too. I-“ He stops so he won’t cry.

You can feel his hands shaking worse than his whole body and you realize he’s already trying to push himself for you. You scramble off of him in a heartbeat. The confusion on his face shows as you gently take his hand.

“You are naïve to think that a bottle will fix what happened. Or make you forget. I’m unsure how to help you, but if avoiding me was helping you I can accept that. I can stop trying to care abou-“

The squeeze Sean gives your hand became a tad painful as he lets out a choked “no”. He glances around, to make sure the others are still sleeping or well haven’t been eavesdropping before he allows himself to speak with a bit more urgency.

“No. No. I don’t want that. Avoiding is making things worse. I- I miss you. I miss your hugs. I miss actually talking to you and teasing you. I’ve been avoiding you because I like you so damn much and I thought you seeing how badly this affected me would’ve been a turn-off,” He admits his skin turning a little bit red from embarrassment.

You honestly want to hit him with love right about now.

“You might be a bit of a dumbass. You honestly thought that I wouldn’t like you because of this? Sean, I care too much about you. I honestly love you. It’s hurting me seeing you like this,” You whisper looking at your joined hands.

His slim long fingers are holding onto your own with everything they have. He had stopped shaking. It finally hits you.

“I know that they physically harmed you. If you want me to help we can start there? Have little touches like this until you are more comfortable and your body and mind processes that you are safe here? Only if you want to though. I’m so sorry for projecting my feelings onto you like that,” You murmur out all of this in a slight panic once again.

Sean gives you a hearty chuckle and large grin as he asks, “Did you say you love me?”

“Of course, that’s the part that sticks with you! I guess that’s good. That means there is hope for you yet,” You mumble looking anywhere but him.

He pulls your hand to his chest forcing you to look at him. Only this time he’s serious. “I’ve been holding out on ya since Blackwater but I love you too (Name). I accept your help since you’re so willing. Ah… Would you be kind enough to uh-“

He stops talking and simply uses his other hand to point and tap his cheek. He so desperately wants the simple touch so you gladly do it. Your soft lips meet his skin and he almost melts at the moment. Pulling away, you both stare at each other and for the first time since he’s been back, Sean feels completely safe.

[bimrsadler]

Honor Among Thieves

Pairing: Sean Macguire x F! Reader

Summary: The gang is unsure what to do with you after you’re caught stealing from them. Deciding you could be useful, they allow you to join Sean on a robbery.

Word count: 1,484

Warnings/tags: smut, mild dirty talk, language

Notes: Request/prompt for @mrs-blooooom Sorry it took me a bit but I hope this turned out how you wanted!

—————

It took you a while to gain the trust of the Van der Linde gang, after all you did steal from them, but they were all thieves as well weren’t they? It was Sean who brought this up to Dutch, the young Irishman seemed to take a liking to you since your arrival, recently bringing you half of his stew and telling jokes to cheer you up.

“Stealin’ is our livelihood Dutch, if yer gonna tie ’er up then why not the rest of us? I was no angel when we met. Still ain’t.”

“I gotta make sure I can trust her first, son.”

“Lemme take ’er on the robbery then. If she could steal that easily from us thinka how easily she could steal for us eh?”

“You do have a point there.” Dutch considered this carefully as he puffed on his cigar, “Alright fine, but use some discretion please? And don’t let her run off.”

After you acclimated to your new freedom with the gang, Sean approached you at the fire. “So ya enjoyin’ the night with us rascals?” He laughed as he gently nudged your ribs with his elbow.

“Now that I ain’t tied to a tree anymore,” you smiled and took a drink of your beer. You noticed Sean’s eyes lingering in your lips.

He leaned in and lowered his mischievous voice, “ya really wanna spice things up an’ join me fer a robbery?”

Eager to prove yourself and perhaps to spend time with your scrappy new friend, you obliged. “Damn right I do.”

Sean explained there was a small group of robbers with a stash hiding out in a secluded cabin, the type of folk who wouldn’t go to the law. The two of you left first thing in the morning as it was a long ride. Having been new to the gang you had no horse to call your own and no one was particularly keen on letting the new girl borrow theirs. Sean quickly offered a seat on his.

It was a pleasant ride, Sean chatting the entire time. While you heard others rib him for this personality trait, you found it endearing.

“So, are ya a good shot?”

“I’m a great shot actually,” you said confidently.

“Y’are? I’m not surprised, betcha could hold yer own with me and the rest of the lads.”

“I reckon I could even shoot better than y’all.”

“Heheh I like yer spark love. I hear these boys at the cabin’ll put up a fight. How ’bout we see who shoots the best?”

“You’re on,” you looked back at him and winked.

When you arrived Sean distracted the man at the front of the cabin while you snuck around back. Like most home robberies it resulted in shots fired, and although backup came, it was manageable.

Sean took out more of them but you were more accurate. “Told you I was a better shot,” you smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Ahh well how ’bout we see who can steal the most valuables then? Though I hear yer already pretty good at that,” he teased.

“Shut up. Let’s get our score.”

A respectable amount of loot was recovered including the stash under the floorboards. Sean found several expensive watches and you a few large jewelry bags. In the end it was impossible to say which was the better take.

“I’m sure mine’s worth more but I’ll let ya have this one.”

“Oh you’re gonna let me huh? Gettin’ a little cocky there Macguire.”

“Oh I haven’t even started to show ya cocky my dear,” Sean laughed as he helped you onto the horse.

You began the long ride back with the excitement of the day was still at a high. As your bodies rocked rhythmically you could feel Sean tense with every brush of your back against his chest and particularly when your hips met his. “Ya did good back there, should be proud a yourself,” Sean stated with his breath on your ear.

“I had fun, and we both did good…maybe we should celebrate?”

“Well I love a good celebration. Whatcha thinkin’?”

You arched your back and slowly adjusted so that your backside was flush with his groin, already feeling his excitement. Turning your head slightly to let your cheek gingerly brush against his lips you whispered, “got a few things in mind.”

Sean shuddered behind you. “That so?” He brought his lips to your neck for a remarkably restrained kiss, testing the waters. “Like this?” You let out a pleased hum and nodded, signaling to continue.

Now that Sean had your okay to keep going he wasted no time in pursuing you further. His kisses were still gentle but now firmer, nipping along your shoulder as he went. You felt one hand move from your hip to caress your inner thigh. “Ya like bein’ touched there love?”

You extended your arm behind you to grab the back of Sean’s head and pull him in for a slow kiss, teasing his tongue with yours. The warmth in your center was growing. “I like you touching me there.”

“Heh, good answer.” Sean moved his needy hands with more boldness, one massaged your breast as the other wandered up your skirt and and trailed along your heat. “What about ’ere?”

Your grip on the back of his neck tightened. “Especially there,” you purred.

You felt Sean’s hardness pressing against you as he explored further. His adept fingers moved your undergarments to the side and toyed with your wetness. “Jeeesus girl, yer soaked.”

You writhed against him as his fingers moved in and out, “we need to stop,” you panted.

“Shit I’m sorry, did I do somethin’ wrong?”

You giggled at the misunderstanding and his prompt apology, “no Sean I mean we need to stop and get off the horse.” You moved your hand behind you to rub him through his jeans, “I need you right now.”

“Oh!” He was clearly flustered in his exclamation. “Well that can be arranged love,” Sean veered to the left on a path that lead to a small clearing in the forest. After hitching the horse he helped you down, “c’mere you.”

You felt the rough bark of the tree hit your back as Sean rutted against you, one leg wrapped around his waist. He moved clumsy and swift to undo your undergarments, letting them fall to the ground as you worked at his belt. “Ya ready to meet Macguire Junior then eh?”

You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped his chest. He was ridiculous, but he made you laugh. Besides, the strokes you gave to his hard member shut him up quick.

Standing against the tree with your leg still around him, you guided him to your entrance.

“Oh darlin’ you feel so good.” Sean propped your leg up with his hand clutching your ass and began thrusting hard. You guided his hand to you your sensitive nub and showed him what you liked. He took your signal and rubbed his thumb gently over you as you responded with enthusiastic moans.

“That’s it Sean,” you panted, running your hands through his red hair. He moved one hand to open and pull your shirt down enough to expose your breasts. Cupping one in his hand, he moved your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, sending flutters of pleasure straight to your core. “Yes, more!” He continued the stimulation as you felt the waves of your climax building to its peak. Your walls contracted around his cock, prompting him to cry out your name.

Your legs shook as Sean picked you up and wrapped them around his lower back, pinning you to the tree as he slammed into you. He may have been smaller than most of the other men around camp but he was strong and used his body well.

“Yer so gorgeous,” he mewled in awe of you. “Fuck…ya like bein’ taken like this?”

All you could manage was a whimper as you dug your nails into his back. His pace became erratic with shallow movements, swearing as he got closer. He readied his hand around himself and looked at you for approval, to which you nodded. Pulling out, Sean thrusted against your wet folds until he released onto your stomach and thighs, groaning and tightening his grip on you with every twitch.

After helping you clean up, the two of you took a moment to gather yourselves while sitting beneath the tree he’d just fucked you against.

“Never in me wildest dreams did I think a lovely woman liked you’d want me,” he said as he put his arm around you.

“We make a good team, oughta do this again sometime.”

“The sex or the robbery?” He snickered.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “How about both?”

Sean pulled you in for a surprisingly tender kiss, “you’ll never catch me sayin’ no.”

[mentally-a-slut]

in case anyone was wondering, my poly arthur x oc x charles fic is progressing nicely... if anyone want's a lil teaser lmk, i'm real proud of how it's going :)