#welcome to escuella’s

[idyllghost]

heard @slicedmayonnaise was waiting for someone to make fanart of the scene from chapter 4 in “Welcome to Escuella’s” SO I obviously did my duty as a mutual and delivered

Pssss go read it!! Here’s a link it’s a wonderful fic!!!! I hope this silly doodle does it justice

[slicedmayonnaise]

Just gonna throw this out there, Washed Up is such a long story 😭😭 it's so much longer than Welcome to Escuella's

[slicedmayonnaise]

Y'all mean to tell me Welcome to Escuella's is a novel??? Goddamn

When reading fanfic keep in mind that for professional literature: 

Short story: under 7,500

Novelette: between 7,500 and 17,500

Novella: between 17,500 and 40,000

Novel: over 40,000

Fics over 40k are literally a novel written and shared for free.  If you have written a 40k+ fic, you have literally written a novel.

[freezerfish]

WELCOME 2 ESCUELLA FANARTTT‼️‼️

I actually love this fic, I need to read more to see if there's more VanderMathews because I love VanderMathews.

@slicedmayonnaise for u ❤️

[grinnis]

I keep running out of RDR2 x reader oneshots to read so I fear I must take things into my own hands.

as long as i don't get ill with writer's block

[javierduffy]

nothing, just thinking about how javier is so coyote-coded and low honor arthur is represented by a coyote …

[zanazirafanfic]

what is it that you like about Welcome to Escuellas so much? I've been wanting to read it but I haven't had a lot of time and I want to know what good things I should be expecting!

So, I'm not much of a modern AU fan usually, but this is one of the few exceptions to that for me. It's got some of my favorite ships, for one thing (John/Javier, Arthur/Charles, and Dutch/Hosea).

All of the characters' backstories make sense for a modern day rendition of them, and their friendships and family relationships and struggles feel very real and relatable.

It's equal parts sweet, funny, and heartbreaking, which I love in a fic (and in RDR itself.) I won't give any spoilers, but... just get ready for some gut punches. Some you may see coming, and some you won't, but the bittersweet payoff in the end is just *chef's kiss.*

[slicedmayonnaise]

me since starting welcome to escuella's

[slicedmayonnaise]

HI AGAIN !! Okay okay I read the final chapter of washed up and OEIEOSSJSJDICUFT I LOVVIVOVE IT but also I'm I'm sad it's over.. once again wanted to say that I adore your fics and the wa you write it'd just so yummy !! WTE and BAE were some of the first fics I read and I put off reading washed up for a whiel because I was still coping with finishing them but WOWOIEEE I am at a loss for words

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭😭 IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME THANK YOU!! THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY <3<3<3<3<3

[mx-pastelwriting]

RDR2 HC - How They'd React to you coming to them when its a cold night.

RDR2 x GN! Reader

Summary: How They'd React to you coming to them when its a cold night.

Warnings: Fluff, Cuddles, Established Relationship

Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Hosea Matthews, John Marston

Dutch van der Linde

-Would wake up startled and reach for his gun under his pillow, but quickly sees it's just you.

-He takes a breath, a sign of relief, and asks you with a laugh what you're doing in his tent.

-Only dating for two months, you never spend a night in Dutch's tent. He respected your choice to go slowly, but on this cold night, everyone had to huddle up near the fire, leaving no room for you.

-Explaining to him, he happily opens his blanket for you to snuggle in. His hands wrap around your waist, him being the big spoon.

-Being so close, he whispers into your ear, telling you how much he loves you and the moments you have.

Dutch spoke sweet nothing into your ear, his warm body welcoming you, the shivering one. As you fall asleep, he pulls you closer into his chest. He kisses the back of your neck, making you laugh in your sleepy state. Not stopping, he locked his fingers with yours to bring you more warmth. Your eyes started to fall closed; he noticed and pulled the blanket over you, tucking you in with a final kiss on the cheek before you fell asleep.

-

Arthur Morgan

-Would be up and see you coming to his bed; through the five months you had been dating, you had only been next to him in bed three times.

-It wasn’t a regular thing to come to his bed and cuddle with him, but he welcomed you with open arms.

-He could feel how cold it was, so he moved over before pulling you onto his chest and putting the blanket around you.

-Saying nothing, the only thing you hear is his warm breaths and his heartbeat, which you could only hear in his little space.

-Waiting until you stop shaking, he gives you a kiss on the hand, taking it from the warm underside of the blanket before you fall asleep.

You could feel Arthur's hand cup your cheek; its warmth tingled your cheek, and as it came closer, you kissed him, causing a hummed laugh from him. Smiling, you cuddle in more into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as he did yours, and looking up, you meet his eyes. You kiss him, cuddling up into his neck. Taking a final deep breath, you close your eyes, having his breaths lullaby you to sleep. You could faintly catch an "I love you," but you chalked it up to the crackling of the fire a few feet away.

-

Javier Escuella

-After his song for the night, as he was getting ready for bed, he saw you come over with your bedding.

-Would greet you and help you place your bedding next to his by the fire. As you both lay down, he faces you, warping his arm around your waist.

-You only started dating, but he made you feel like the only thing in his world. Dutch had nothing on you in Javier's eyes.

-He kisses you as he talks to you and then sings you to sleep, his voice like honey, like his kisses now on your cheek and forehead.

-Pulls you in closer as he sings to intertwine his legs with yours, tucking in your blanket more, and watching you fall asleep.

Javier's arms were warmly tucked under your arms, and his voice sang softly with words only for you. With your eyes closed, you could hear a smile on his face and his hand caressing his thumb. He planted kisses on your nose before going back to singing, He didn't care if anyone listened to him; he wanted them to know how much he loved you, despite him not being able to say it just yet because it would be too soon. He let you fall asleep with his love song playing in the background as you faded into sleep.

-

Charles Smith

-You would have to get him off guard duty; thankfully, he was just about to switch with Bill.

-The bedding was already set up beforehand by you; you watched him as you shook under the blankets.

-Only dating for five and a half months just about how long he had been with you and the gang—you noticed how talkative and close he had been to, among other things, so you took that to confess your love for him.

-He quickly gets in, warping his arms around you and letting you rest your head on his chest. He rubs his hand on your arm, trying his best to warm you up.

-He kisses you on the top of your head, and he told you stories that his mother told him.

Listening to his stories, you tuck your arm close to you as you hear his faint heartbeat with his lungs air coming in or out, letting him continue with his story. You watched the fire going with the wind, but your eyes fought to close, and Charles's voice lulled you to sleep. It was quickly affecting you. With his arm soothing you, in the end, you lost hearing his warm voice as you faded into sleep.

-

Bill Williamson

-He would be a bit drunk, and you would have to get him to bed or at least tell him it's bedtime.

-He was a very lovely dove to you when he was drunk, so tucking him in was easy, and he pulled you to his chest. He mumbles "I love you" a lot.

-Kisses you so much all over your face, but if you tell him to stop, he does because he knows he smells like beer.

-You dated him for a year now, and throughout that time, you've made him less of an asshole, but he's still your Bill.

-A living space heater keeping you warm through the night, he would snuggle into your neck in the middle of the night.

Bill kissed your cheek and neck, talking about how much he loves you, and you laughed as his kisses tickled your skin. Soon after you asked him to stop, he thought about it for a minute, then did snuggle into your neck. His arms warped around you, but he continued to whisper "I love you" in your ear, kissing you one last time before letting you both go to sleep.

-

Hosea Matthews

-Would wake up when you get into his bed, though not getting his gun as you tell him it's you.

-He cuddles you quickly, feeling that you were shaking. He whispers that you're okay and rubs your arms, the friction from which gives you more warmth.

-He gives you kisses on your cheek and forehead, then cups your face, trying everything to make you stop shaking.

-When you did, he pulled you closer. Now he had to get you to sleep. He makes voices and tells stories about getting people out of money.

-Though he had made you laugh up a storm, you were exhausted after his words. He noticed and gave you a kiss one last time before you fell asleep.

Hosea rubbed your arms, slowly kissing the top of your head. He whispered something you couldn't make out, but it soothed you. You listened to his lungs and heartbeat as they slowed, then heard his soft snores. You huffed a laugh at it, but quickly you fell under the sleep spell, and you cuddled closer. Closing your eyes, you fall asleep, hoping you can wake before him to get him coffee. You love when his face lights up.

-

John Marston

-He would be so confused waking up to your cold body next to him shaking, but he would ask you "What's wrong?".

-After telling him, he pulls you closer to him, kissing your cheek. His voice was hoarse as he told you how cold you were.

-He pulled the blanket up more, letting you intertwine your legs with his.

-He wanted to move you both next to the fire, but he could not when your shaking had come to a stop.

-Trying not to fall asleep first, but losing the battle, he talked little loving things into your ear with a final "I love you".

John put his hand on your back, rubbing it here and there; you could feel his body move like he was wanting to move, but you had only just stopped shaking. He had laid back down and continued to talk, pulling you closer. You could hear in his words how he slurred; he was falling asleep. Patting his chest, you tell him to go to sleep, but he tells you he's not tired, so you just leave it with a smile, letting yourself fall into the sweet bliss of sleep.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[grinnis]

Hi hi! <3

I'm casually working on a couple x readers currently but sometimes the inspiration to continue is hard to find because I need to make the key plot up by myself SOOOOO if anyone has any requests or wishes on RDR2 x readers feel SO free to ask !!

I find drawing requests to be much more motivating to complete so I have no doubt it'll be the same for writing :)

No promises though, sometimes life gets in the way (somehow especially when writing fanfiction ??)

[slicedmayonnaise]

I'M LITERALLY CRYING OVER JOHN'S SHIRT BC IN MY FIC HE IS LITERALLY ADDICTED TO COCAINE JAKSHMSKDBRHF HELP

My RDR Modern AU!

I plan on doing more, but here's a (drunk) polaroid of John and Javier being gay for each other for now! :))

[check out my carrd!] | [commissions are open!]

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hcs for the boys' toxic traits. Preferably arthur, javier, john, and charles, but other boys are welcome too! I'm curious to see what you'd say Dutch's toxic traist are, though they're pretty self explanatory 😭

I just love how you write sm sorreyyyy

Van Der Linde Gang's Toxic traits

(Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, John Marston, Charles Smith, Micah Bell, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy, Eagle Flies)

HAHAHA THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE. I tried not to sugarcoat anything.

Arthur Morgan - He definitely has some trouble communicating. Not to say he never will communicate with you but it'll be long in between and after it's been plaguing him for a milenium. As we've seen, this man is capable of having deep, well thought out conversations. He'd also be pretty prideful to some degree. Mostly depends what point in time you start dating, later in game he'd be able to see past his pride. Also, I feel like if you were dating a major point of contention in your relationship would be questioning whether it's time to move on from this life.

Javier Escuella - WAY too jealous. I don't even mean it in a cute way but in a way that would genuinely cause several arguments between you two. "Why were you looking at him that way?" "That sounded like you were flirting with him" "Why do you spend so much time around the other guys?" Would also be around you 24/7. Someone would be incapable of having a conversation with you that doesn't include Javier. You two would also argue about Dutch's leadership skills.

John Marston - Oh my God this man is so indecisive. Doesn't know what he wants ever. In a modern setting you two would be sitting in the car, asking each other back and forth "what do you wanna eat?". And his commitment issues? Good lord. At some points in your relationship it'd probably feel like you guys aren't dating at all. You'd probably have to beg him to put some effort into the relationship to be honest.

Charles Smith - It's so hard to think of ANYTHING this man can do wrong but alas, I must. You probably wouldn't be his top priority at all times. Which isn't to say you should ALWAYS be at the top of his list, but sometimes it can result in your feelings being neglected over a situation that affects you. Only when the day reaches it's end will he consult you over something, which will have you feeling incredibly frustrated.

Micah Bell - This man is a walking red flag so let's not dance around his flaws. Incredibly prideful, will ignore your warnings over something just to get his way. Also probably lies to you A LOT. Can be way too rough with you in many aspects. Also this man embodies the word sleezy. Yuck.

Dutch Van Der Linde - Do I even need to say. So fucking stubborn. He also probably thinks he's intelectually superior to you. If you bring up a concern to him he'll probably use as many flowery and big words as possible to make himself appear smarter during the discussion than he actually is. And if you advise him to do anything he'll probably just ignore you, saying you don't know what you're talking about. All in all, thinks he's better than you. Also you're probably a trophy wife since Dutch views women as accessories to his success, if you can even call it success.

Sean Macguire - He doesn't take anything seriously. If you're trying to have a genuine discussion with him he'll play it down and make it seem less important or severe than it actually is. Don't even bother trying to emphasize how serious you are because he won't take that seriously either. It's only until he feels the consequences of his actions will he listen to you, which results in a frustrating cycle.

Kieran Duffy - Also very indecisive but in the way where he can't speak up for himself because he doesn't think it's important. Has such low self esteem, he also probably thinks his emotions are less important which results in a lot of miscommunication on his behalf. Sorta just let's you take the lead all the way, always let's you have your way, with no valuable input of his own. You have to shake his shoulders and beg for him to actually speak his mind.

Eagle Flies - He's probably so childish. Like, mommy issues CEO over here. Will probably seek for you to fulfill that role in his life. Has almost no control over his emotions and has trouble identifying them, and when he does indentify them, has absolutely no idea what to do with them in terms of expression. He will make various efforts to communicate with you but will struggle immensely. Being with him will probably be like teaching a man how to experience emotions in a healthy way. I could write an entire post dedicated to what I think his toxic traits are

More eagle flies ones

[millieisawriter]

Sacrum et profanum

javier escuella x reader

summary: the story of how the mexican outlaw fell for the pastor's daughter

wc: 2.5k

tw: ends with smut - loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampie, quite a lot of religious references during the act

english isn't my first language

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

+18 so none of yalls parents come for me

It was somewhere in Montana where Javier met you. Some little town nearby which the gang was camped. That evening when you two met was nice and chilly, you were just walking back home from a gathering with other women at the church.

Actually, the first time you didn't even talk. You possibly didn't even realize a pair of eyes was on you. But he had noticed you, it was hard not to, you were too beautiful for your own good.

Javier had met many beautiful women in the past, but none of them quite like you. He forgot half of them, if not more, after a few days or so, but he knew that wouldn't be the case with you. So he watched, silently, following you from the shadows.

Maybe it was God who urged him to talk to you the second time he saw you. The need to do it appeared in his mind almost unexpected. He shouldn't, after all, knowing it's not the best idea to start anything with a girl of a different belief.

In the following days, he tried to reason it away, telling himself that there was little to be gained in wanting a girl whose father, firstly, preached a different faith, and secondly one who surely warned you against men like Javier, considering his line of work.

But something urged him to do it.

This time you didn't come straight back home. Something made you turn your gaze towards a patch of beautiful wildflowers nearby, and you stopped momentarily just to gather some.

"Good evening." Was all he said in a greeting, but it was enough to say a lot about him. There was an accent to his voice, one that told you he came from somewhere in the Latin America.

You looked up at the man from where you were kneeling down by the flowers, and then you knew you had to be careful. Not only was he a stranger, but by the way he was dressed you could tell he was a drifter. It would be the best to not engage in a conversation with him at all, but currently you weren't really in a position to do so.

"Oh," you managed as you stood up, clutching the little bouquet of the wildflowers in your hands, "good evening, mister."

Noticing how your eyes slightly widened, he figured he could've taken a better approach. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." He apologized as sincerely as he could.

You had no idea what this man could have wanted from you. He was too polite to intend to rob you, what you had assumed at first.

"It's allright." You replied, still trying to remain cautious, even if the man's behavior didn't fit the outlaw archetype your father would often feed your brain with. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

What made you say it? You didn't know. You didn't have to engage in a conversation with this man. You could have excused yourself out of it, and walked back home.

"Just passing through," he admitted, "excuse my forwardness, but I had to approach you. You're very... captivating." He tipped his hat, adding, "Javier Escuella."

Having learnt his name, you then proceeded to introduce yourself, not forgetting to add that you're the pastor's daughter. It seemed like Javier was studying your name as if savoring the sound of it.

You felt the urge to look away, not used to the sort of attention he seemed to be giving you, but you didn't. After all, he was rather captivating, too.

"Well, miss, it was pleasure to meet you. Mind if I walk you home?"

You faltered for a second. A stranger, a drifter on top of that and possibly one of a questionable line of work, asking to walk you home did sound a bit suspicious.

But his tone seemed sincere to your inexperienced ears. So you agreed. "No, I don't mind."

And that was how your story began. It was simple, and kind of sweet. You started sneaking around behind your family's back, making up excuses for your delayed return home, sometimes even daring to sneak out at night just to meet with Javier. So romantic, right?

You haven't been acting like yourself, really, and your family was quick to figure it out. Your father, especially. You didn't know if he assumed, or knew for certain, but he accused you of seeing a man. Maybe your sneaking out just wasn't sneaky enough.

Whatever you had with Javier, wasn't as sweet and romantic in your family's eyes as it was in yours.

"He's not a bad man, daddy!" You exclaimed during one argument.

"Then how come hadn't he come to me first?" You father asked. "A good man always asks the father for permission!"

But this didn't speak to you. Of course, that's what a good man does, but Javier was good to you regardless. To other people, however... well, he told you about the gang, what they do. Maybe what they were doing wasn't morally right, but the idea they did it all for was not that senseless. Stealing from the rich, giving to the poor (such as themselves, too). Almost noble, wasn't it?

In the evenings you met, Javier would talk about the injustices he had seen, the rich and powerful who lived untouched by the struggles of the less fortunate ones. And he spoke about Mexico a lot, too.

"Porfirio Díaz," he'd scoff, "he talks about order and progress like he's some saint sent to save us, but who's he saving? Not the people. It's all about the men with deep pockets, the hacendados who sit on their wealth while the rest of us scrape by."

Your eyes would widen, as you had always been unaware of what was happening outside of your little town, especially in foreign countries miles away.

"I had no idea it could get that bad." You'd mutter, as if trying to apologize for the actions of the bad people.

"It did get really bad," Javier would confirm, "in the mines and plantations, people work themselves to death. And the campesinos who once owned their own land, Díaz has stripped them of it all. Forced them into a kind of slavery, with debts they'll never pay."

"What about your family?"

He went silent for a longer moment everytime you'd ask about his family. Not that he didn't like talking about them. He loved them, cared about them. But talking about them could lead him to revealing a bit too much about his past, which he didn't want to happen just yet.

"I don't know, I haven't heard from them since I left." Was all he'd say, and then change the topic. "It's not that different here. Those in power look down on everyone else, like they're entitled to all the best things. Same sort of greed, the same control."

Many times you wanted to ask him why won't he go back there, the question lingering in your mind. At some point you thought maybe he just didn't want to, but why would he care if he thought America was the same?

And one time, he answered the question without you even having to ask about it. "Maybe one day this will all end and I will have a place to return to. But until then, I try to survive here with the gang, making our own justice."

You felt so attracted to his words. There was a thrill to being with someone so different, someone who believed in something beyond the rules you had grown up with. Your father's words still haunted you, though.

You knew how disappointed your father was, and that weighted on your chest like a big rock. Not like the guilt would ever stop you from continuing to sneak out.

One night when you sneaked out to meet Javier, he took you on a ride on Boaz. You two rode off to some secluded spot in a forest, stopped just by the river.

"My daddy thinks you're no good for me," you decided to confess, sitting down on the grass, "he always told me men like you are bad."

"Bad? Why bad?" Javier asked, sitting down next to you. He knew the answer, and he knew your father was right.

"You you shoot people, you steal from people, these are sins," you paused, and Javier could see you were figuring it out on your own, "but I know you do this for a good cause."

Javier leaned back, propping his arms behind him. He was aware of the sins he commits, but he knew God forgives him every time. Every man he killed or stole from, he did it in good faith, after all.

You fiddled with a blade of grass, staring down at your hands. "But... don't you fear for your soul?"

Javier replied confidently, "I believe God knows my heart. I think... I hope that God understands."

Your whole life your father had taught you about God, sin and salvation, about the strict path that must be followed without deviation. And, knowing that Javier was a catholic, you thought he'd see it in the same way. But somehow, his beliefs seemed more open, laid back, even if catholicism was supposed to be the branch of christianity more strict than protestantism.

Sensing your uncertainity, Javier reached out, touching you gently. "I don't think God cares about rules as much as He cares about our intentions, mi corazón."

For a moment, you just looked at him, letting him wash you over like the water at your feet. There was something freeing in what he said. Something human and imperfect, but deeply tender. You wondered, for the first time, if there could be a world beyond rules and judgments that you were raised with.

You turned to look at Javier, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks as you abandoned the heavy thoughts that had clouded your mind. "What does mi corazón mean?"

Javier smirked. "It means my heart. Like calling someone darling in english."

Hearing him say it made your own heart quicken. You realized you'd never felt this way with anyone before. As his fingers traced gentle circles on the back of your hand, the touch alone was enough to set aside every doubt you could've had. Javier looked at you with a softness that broke through every barrier, his gaze holding yours like a prayer.

"Is that what I am to you?" You asked, the nickname he used for you making it feel like a promise of eternal love. "You heart?"

"Sí, eres mi corazón." He answered, pulling you closer, and even though you didn't know any spanish, you understood his words well.

And then you allowed him to kiss you, but it didn't stop on that. His actions went further, his movements careful as if afraid of breaking some unspoken vow between the two of you.

You let him guide you our of your clothes, feeling some kind of holiness in his touch, as if he wanted to worship like a deity. Soon after that, he removed each piece of his own clothing too, so that there were no barriers between you.

You'd be lying if you were to state you weren't scared. But the desire you felt was stronger than your fears, even if you've never been with a man like this before.

You were a virgin.

He had you underneath himself, one of his hands supporting his body above yours, while the other gently cupped your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his.

"Don't be afraid, mi corazón, I won't hurt you." He murmured.

"Not what I worry about," you replied, "what if..." you hesitated, feeling the weight of a lifetime's worth of sermons, prayers, and your father's preaching pressing down on you. "What if I'll be condemned to hell for this? For wanting you, for...us?"

"Do you really think a God who made us so full of love would punish you for feeling it, corazón?"

He was right, you knew that. So you did something you hadn't expected yourself to do. Placing your hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him in to kiss him.

At the same time, you felt a new sensation, one so unfamiliar to your body, but one that felt so good. You couldn't help, but gasp as you felt Javier filling you up with his dick. He did it slowly, almost tentatively, as if handling something sacred. Every inch he pushed into you was like an offering for your holy self.

And to him, each sigh, each moan you gave in return was an absolution to his sinful soul. Your bodies fit perfectly together like two hands holding the same rosary.

As your head fell back, the words slipped from your lips, "Oh, God." Both sacred and sinful at the same time, both cursing you for the rest of your life, and sending you straight to Heaven in Javier's embrace.

Javier kissed these words off your lips, his hips never stopping snapping into yours, and the wetter you got, the more rapidly he could fuck into you.

The act got you wondering, why is it considered so sinful when it gives so much pleasure. You were commiting a great sin, giving yourself to a man you weren't married to, but it felt godly. Maybe that was why it was so sinful - because it was indescribably blissful, so divine. Because it made the man seem like some kind of a deity in the moment, instead of the God in the sky directly above.

If you were going to get punished for this, you didn't mind. You didn't care. You could do this a thousand times over and over again.

"Ah, fuck, I'm gonna–" Javier said, feeling himself approaching closer to the edge.

For some reason, despite this being your first time, you knew exactly what his words men. And despite everything that could happen after this, despite all the possible consequences, you once again said something you didn't expect yourself to say.

"Don't pull out," the words left your mouth almost instinctively, "I want you to fill me up."

Every part of you wanted to feel it, to take all of him without hesitation. He did as you asked, filling you up as he reached his high. You felt warmth spread over your body, starting from the center of your abdomen, reaching every place of your body like a strike of lightning, and feeling his release shoot into you made it even more intense.

You were breathless, and Javier stayed buried inside you for a moment longer after the both of you were finished, his cock like a cork stopping his seed from spilling out from your sacret grove.

"I'm starting to understand why people sin so much," you giggled.

[we-loved-once-and-true]

Two's a Party, Three's... a Bigger Party

Reader and Javier are friends with benefits who use the cover of overnight jobs to release some tension. When new guy Charles joins the gang, Dutch insists he joins them on one of their trips. Will the presence of this gorgeous stranger throw a hammer in their plans, or are these jobs about to get a lot more fun?

Chapter One: Heatstroke

Chapter Two Tumblr // AO3

1527 words Read on AO3

You and Javier prepare for a robbery over in West Elizabeth, a welcome change from the New Austin sun and the relentless tension building between you. Was it the heat or the heat that gave you heatstroke?

F!Reader x Javier x Charles / porn with plot / ch1 suggestive, smut coming in ch2 / reader not described but mentions being from the east coast / pre-Blackwater / the camp is Twin Rocks in New Austin / no whump but reader has heatstroke / we'll meet Charles in ch 3

The midday sun bore into your skin, beads of sweat rolled down your back. The bandana that swept the sweat from your brow was now too damp to do much good, and was resigned to stop the burning metal of the rifle from blistering your hands.

You were going to kill Bill Williamson.

He knew it was his guard shift when he left to go “hunting”. You should have known you’d end up on guard duty; the heat making your blood boil had made you quite an annoyance for Grimshaw. You were too warm to sit and sew, too hot to labour over laundry, and no way were you willing to make your horse endure the sun anymo than necessary. As Bill trotted out of Twin Rocks, you could already sense Grimshaw’s focus on you.

With half an hour left, you resigned yourself to another pace around the camp. Usually, behind the old buildings would provide a little shade, but the punishing noon sun banished shadows from appearing. As you approached the back of camp, you squinted to look up at the hills. New Austin burned, but God was it beautiful.

“Careful, cariño, someone might sneak up on you,” a smooth voice teased from behind you. Spinning around, you saw Javier leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his smirk, his face even more tanned than usual. His eyes narrowed in the glare of the sun as he looked at you from under his sombrero, the wide brim casting the only shadow for miles around. You had never wanted one more.

“Didn’t sneak up on me Escuella,” you lied with a grin, “I saw ya, just didn’t think you were much of a threat.” Your voice was slightly breathless - as far as handling the weather, you were haggard compared to the Mexican relaxing in front of you.

He chuckled softly, “That right, cariño?” His gaze shifted slightly, taking in more of your figure, causing a shiver to run through you. “Guess I haven’t been able to show off my skills recently… been a while since we last did a job, ay?”

Fighting your bashful blush, you looked away and blew a loose strand of hair from your face. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was watching your lips. You licked them before speaking, not acknowledging the shaky breath in front of you, “Has been some time, huh? I’ve been too busy scrubbing the constant dust from all our clothes to find any leads.” You kept your voice neutral incase anyone overheard, but you hoped your apology was apparent to him.

He clicked his tongue and pushed off the wall, “No worries, cariño, I got ya. Well, John said somethin’ about a stagecoach. Probably not as interesting as your laundry though.” Javier was now standing as close as he could while being in the camp; close enough to see the depths of his eyes, but not arouse suspicion. The perfect distance to make your heart jump, to make your face flush, to make you dizzy in anticipation.

There were rumours from the get-go about the two of you. The two newest recruits of the Van der Linde gang, inseparable as if from birth, found a fast and deep friendship in one another. Javier, heartbroken and forced from his home. You, having lost your family and prospects. You joined after attempting to pick-pocket Mary-Beth, who took pity on your starved and scared face, and saw a little of herself in you. You sheepishly returned her pocket watch, she apologetically returned your coin purse.

Less than a few months later, Dutch rode in with another lost soul, this one a ravenous and bloodstained foreigner. As Mary-Beth had with you, you saw yourself in his sunken face. You volunteered to help him, teaching him English and soothing him from his manic nightmares. In turn, he taught you to live by the ways of shooting and fishing. Together, you rebuilt yourselves, perfecting your partnership in crime. As to not disturb the girls you bunked with during his nightly terrors, you unceremoniously moved your bedroll into his lean-to. He didn’t look up from sharpening his knife when he told you to make yourself at home. His nightmares came less frequently.

Your friendship was natural, moving in sync and communicating with a glance. The rumours, therefore, were expected. Mary-Beth would embellish your fondness of the new mysterious revolutionary into little teases and tales. For years, you both insisted you were only friends, and for years you were telling the truth.

A job in Nevada turned sour fast, and through a storm of bullets you both escaped - nearly unscathed. Banged up from the fight and with a bullet gash in your thigh, you ended up laying on a musty cot in an abandoned cabin as Javier’s slim and precise fingers stitched you up, straddling your legs to hold you still. A bandaged leg and several bottles of whiskey later, you found yourself straddling him, fingers in his hair, kissing him like you needed him to survive.

His heart was still broken. You still wanted the freedom of a woman not spoken-for. So, friends you remained.

Long missions would keep you both from camp for a few days. Travel out, rob, hide, travel back. The adrenaline, the rush, the celebratory liquor - it was a routine between best friends. It wasn’t love - not in the traditional sense - but it was passion.

You threw yourself down on your bedroll, a long heavy sign releasing the stress from your body. The short shadow of your lean-to left your lower legs and feet in the sun, but the relief on your face and arms was heavenly. Your legs were lead and your blistered feet throbbed in your boots. Aching muscles and imminent heat stroke distracted you from approaching footsteps, the jingling of spurs muffled by a pounding headache.

You flinched at the cold cloth touching your face. “Easy, cariño,” his familiar voice cooed, “I’ll get you some water.” The cold bandana eased the stinging of your face; taking deep breaths, you smelt the tobacco and aftershave that soaked the fibres of Javier’s clothes (and, by proxy, quite a few of yours). A sloshing sound told you Javier had returned with your full canteena. Propping yourself up, you gulped down the water with desperate gratitude, the dizziness of heat stroke fading. Returning yourself to your pillow, you allowed the cloth to block the light and let the pull of sleep take over, barely aware of Javier’s gentle strumming.

You stirred awake, wiping your face with Javier’s bandana. Mid-afternoon sunlight dazzled your eyes, but thankfully offered you a larger shade, as if to apologise for its earlier abuse. Sitting, you brought the canteena to your lips, gulping down the refreshing water. In your grogginess, you vaguely noticed it had been refilled.

“Enjoy your siesta, hermosa?” You looked beside you to Javier sitting on his bedroll with his map open in front of him, watching you with a fond smile.

“Yeah, thanks for the water,” you raised your bottle towards him. “Guess the heat got to me.”

Javier hummed lightheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, we can’t all be blessed with my sun-tolerance.”

“Hah! I’d like to see you try snow-tolerance,” you thought back to your childhood on the east coast. “Bet you wouldn’t have made it to noon.”

“Good luck getting me anywhere past West Elizabeth. Speaking of which,” he pulled the map closer to you, “I’ve drawn out our route for tomorrow, what do you think?” He looked up and paused at your confused expression, “Cariño?”

The last thing you really remembered was the way Javier was looking at you, his smirk, his suggestion at doing a job together-

“Oh!” He smiled as your memory came back, the fog from the heat stroke disappearing. John had followed the lead of a banking coach crossing West Elizabeth once a month. Some other job had taken John’s attention, so Javier had volunteered to follow up on it. The invitation of three days alone with Javier was too tempting - so did a few days out of the New Austin sun. “Yes! The bak thing in West- yeah! I remember. When’re we going?”

“Careful hermosa, you might get faint again,” his sultry voice teased, flashing a toothy grin. “I reckon we leave first thing: we can get to Blackwater, stake out the roads, find a place to, ahhh, bunk down for the night,” he traced a long finger along the road he had drawn on his map. His suggestive wording was paired with a subtle glance at you, pleased to see you looked as excited as him. “Next day, we hit the coach. Hide out as usual, be back the day after. Hopefully,” he added dryly.

“Hopefully,” you repeated. “You know if Blackwater has a hotel? Or are we, uh, roughing it?” The innuendoes could pass as a poor choice of words for eavesdropping ears, but all they did was fuel the fire that was building up between the two of you.

“Don’t worry about it, hermosa,” he reassured you with a dark laugh, “I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

This is my first upload for RDR so please please let me know if you have any feedback ! Any and all comments are appreciated ♡ Porn is coming in Part 2, then we'll be meeting Charles, so I hope you hang around for a bit ! Thanks for reading, enjoy xoxo

[slicedmayonnaise]

I'M GOING FERAL OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH I'M GONNA CRY

heard @slicedmayonnaise was waiting for someone to make fanart of the scene from chapter 4 in “Welcome to Escuella’s” SO I obviously did my duty as a mutual and delivered

Pssss go read it!! Here’s a link it’s a wonderful fic!!!! I hope this silly doodle does it justice