#sean out here having one night stands

[grugruel]

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr smut #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic

[tempting-andromeda]

I missed my boys so I’m back at headcanons

Misc headcanons

Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Sunmers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Eagle Flies

Arthur Morgan

Super awkward about gift giving but he loves giving you little trinkets from his adventures. Like a small flower or a pretty Little Rock

He’s just like “here” drops it in your hand and then stands there awkwardly

Doesn’t hide his facial expressions as well as he thinks he does.

He loves to gossip. If you tell him something juicy he acts like he doesn’t care but he’ll drop something even crazier with a smirk

Reluctantly tells you about his adventures but he just doesn’t want to brag

John Marston

Every time he asks for you to bathe with him it ends up with him getting a scrub down instead of getting headed (he doesn’t know why he expects anything else anymore)

Thinks burps are peak comedy.

He likes when you ask his opinion about things even though he’ll bullshit his way through

Like a purple or blue shirt? Hmm it’s cold so wear the blue one because blue is for cold.

Accidentally shows his buttcrack a lot. His pants just never sit on his hips right and I just…I can feel it.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes dates where you two go out into Saint Denis and pretend to be someone else for the night.

Likes picking out your outfits for you. He finds it romantic.

Has a thing for helping you tie or buckle your shoes

Always thinks the smallest knees is the biggest news or the other way around

Tries to dance with you in the most random of moments. Like you’re a little pissed about something and he’ll come up to you and just start swaying

Charles Smith

Cannot stand when people share food by sucking on peoples fingers. Like when people dip their finger into the cake batter and share it.

Has the most obvious side eye ever. He simply cannot hide it.

Favorite cuddling position is where you lay on top of him

He doesn’t drink much but when he does he’s a completely different person.

Will bluntly ask you a weird question like “what alcohol do you think would be your horse’s favorite”

Javier Escuella

Likes lipstick marks. Thinks it’s one of the most attractive things ever. Has a shirt where you left a lipstick stain on the collar

Says the sassiest shit under his breath 5 minutes after it’s relevant and gets pissed

Rehearses a conversation in his head before he has it

Makes you learn Spanish for “code words” but reallt he just wants to teach you Spanish

Has a habit of repeating words just for himself outside of conversations

Sean MacGuire

He thinks he’s the suavest mother fucker around. He will randomly share how he pulled you to random people

Makes the worst inside jokes he’ll never drop

Loves to spin you around randomly. He doesn’t care if you hate it.

Keeps food in his pockets (sometimes wrapped in cloth) and doesn’t see a problem with it

Thinks cringy pet names are the best like “snugglemuffin”

Lenny Summers

One of his favorite dates are leisurely strolls

He liked when you help him get dressed. Like help him with his vest

Idk why I think he has like the same idea as romance as those really happy old people

Likes when you keep him company while he’s patrolling

Loves cheek kisses! One of his favorite things ever!

Kieran Duffy

He likes to join you if you have a self care routine.

Likes to share things with you. Like some food or his clothes.

Makes the most out there “what ifs” or “would you rather” questions

Just casually knows how to do decent hairstyles because he got bored while working with the horses.

Wakes up too easily. At the smallest thing. You could twitch and he’s stirring awake

Micah Bell

Thinks it’s funny to ghost you. He always says stuff like “distance makes the heart grow fonder”

Really good at catching flies and mosquitoes

Will prompt the weirdest shit as if it’s normal just to fuck with you

Will give you the meanest compliments like “I hate inbreds…not you though” because he thinks it’s charming AND funny

Randomly gives you a good shove every now and then

Eagle flies

He absolutely loves getting a rise out of you like sometimes he does something stupid just for you to scold him

Affectionally bites. At first it was a joke but now he just casually does it. He’ll grab your hand and pressed a light bite to your wrist

Gets comfortable in the weirdest positions. Even while cuddling.

Talks about your future with him way too soon.

He thinks it’s funny to randomly “propose” to you

#arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde #charles smith #javier escuella #sean macguire #lenny summers #kieran duffy #micah bell #eagle flies #arthur morgan headcanons #charles smith headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #eagle flies x reader #john marston headcanons #Dutch van Der Linde headcanons #javier escuella headcanons #sean macguire headcanons #lenny summers headcanon #Micah bell headcanons #Eagle flies headcanons

[adawngswife]

dating sean diaz hcs pt 2

- before esteban fixed up a car for sean, u guys would always take the public bus around seattle

- his favorite dates r the ones where u guys go into random small stores and thrift shops

- both of u guys cackle REALLY LOUD at tacky shirts with stupid sayings and get looks from people 😭

- ur fav thing is to go “i found something ud like” and watch sean look up from the racks in excitement to see an overly patriotic shirt that says “don’t touch my truck”

- his face drops into a frown and he picks out something 10x uglier and say it looks like something ud wear

- sean secretly buys what u say is cute but u cant afford bc thrifting is so expensive for no reason these days

- “guess what i got” and he slithers it out of his bag with an evil smile 😭 suddenly him dissing u for an hour straight doesnt even matter anymore

- once esteban texts sean for dinner u guys hop on the bus back home. he never asks sean to come home for dinner alone though! common courtesy to invite the gf

- sharing wired earbuds on the bus ride home always. sean plays little love songs bc he only listens to music that he relates to in that specific moment 😭 corny but cute. he def has songs in his head that he thinks are ur guys’ songs and plays them every chance he gets

- when u first started eating with the diaz family it was so painfully awkward

- though he kind of likes it now, he did not want his girlfriend to get to know esteban or daniel too well LMAO he didnt want to be embarrassed by anything they possibly could say

- still, even when he tried so hard to avoid it, daniel and esteban still found their ways

- estebans the kind of dad to bring up embarrassing stories about sean when he was a kid bc he KNOWS how much his son would hate it

- “y’know (y/n), im surprised seanie boy over here even managed to get a girlfriend in the first place”

- “why is that, mr. diaz?”

- “i remember he thought girls couldn’t poop until he was in middle school! i had to break the news for him—he was in denial for weeks. his voice was shaking when i told him and everything!” u can see sean pause mid-chew in the corner of his eye 😭 “and please, call me esteban”

- you just awkwardly nodded and tried to not bust out laughing. sean notices and kicks u under the table which makes u ACTUALLY bust out laughing

- esteban and daniel knew from there u were one to be trusted

- “i bet (y/n) doesn’t poop” daniel randomly said when u left that night. seans immediately swiveled his head around 😭

- just like with lyla, daniel seemed to have a crush on u as well. the only difference is that sean tries to shut it down REALLY quick.

- “she shits all the time. sometimes i wipe her ass for her bc she shits so much”

- daniel’s “eww…” is like music to his ears

- u always playfully punch him when he does this in front of u and ask why he makes u look bad in front of him

- sean never admits its bc hes jealous of a little kid 😭 he just changes the subject and kisses u bc he thinks hes sneaky

- over the summer he randomly got a buzz and didnt say anything to anybody

- he just opened his front door standing there bald as if nothing happened and ur eyes wld just kind of widen

- u wld eventually tell him it looks good tho bc it DOES he pulls it off so well

- that summer u wld always randomly start feeling his head because the texture is so interesting

- it got to the point where hed just sit on the floor in front of wherever u were so ud get to feel his freshly mowed head

- he always ends up dozing off bc its so comforting and u wld feel his head pressed on ur inner leg.

- u also get the privilege of cutting/buzzing his hair 😋

- sean doesnt trust himself so u guys sit for 40 mins watching a brad mondo video before u start going ape on his hair

- he gets kind of nervous when u get close to his face and does that thing where u switch between a persons right eye and left eye while smiling awkwardly 😭

- surprisingly it turns out good!

- i feel like ud be super nit-picky on ur work, thinking its total ass. he wld just say its perfect over and over again

- he always stares at any reflective surface and smiles like a dork in front of it. even if u did do a shit job, he probably wouldnt notice or care all that much bc he loves blindly ❤️

im on winter break so i get to be cringe and free for endless hours thank u to like the 3 other people who also like sean diaz. u r all real ones

#life is strange 2 #sean diaz x reader #sean diaz #daniel diaz #sean diaz hcs

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi!

I for sure want to read how reader and older!Eddie met!

xx

Bless you for sending this in so I have a reason to post this lol.

This is a prequel to this older!eddie fic for those who are interested! Thank you for reading 💖

Words: 3k

It’s been far too long since you’ve gone out on a girl’s night. Once you all graduated college, it became harder for schedules to align and days off to coincide. But tonight was your first reunion since you had started your first big girl job, and you were excited to be letting loose with your friends. 

“How’s Sean?” your friend Beverly asks your other friend Val.

“Oh,” Val says with a laugh. “I dumped that asshole three weeks ago.”

“Finally!” Lucy cheers. 

You miss what Val says next because your gaze snags on a man sitting at the bar. He’s older than you by a bit—maybe around forty. From where you’re sitting at your table, you see his profile clearly. He has long, curly brown hair, slightly frizzy in the stale bar air. His eyes are large and stubble lines his sharp jawline. Even from this distance you can see how pretty his mouth is and how kissable his lips look. One of his hands is wrapped around a pint of beer, and when you concentrate, you can hear him clinking his chunky metal rings against the glass. 

“Hello?”

Jumping in your seat, you’re startled as you realize your friends have been calling your name. Their laughter rings in your ears as heat rises to your cheeks.

“Sorry. What?”

Beverly looks over to the bar, seeing where your previous gaze lay, then back to you. By the smirk on her face, you know you’ve been caught.

“See something you like, huh?” Beverly asks. 

“What?” you ask, cheeks only getting hotter. 

“Mr. Neck Tattoos over there,” Beverly says, nodding her head in the direction of the man at the bar. Yeah, you’d definitely clocked the inked skin.

“Oh, he’s hot,” Val says. She reaches over and shakes your arm. “Go talk to him!”

“Shit, that’s one hot older man,” Lucy says, the way she’s eyeing him up and down irritating you for some reason. “He’s alone. Go talk to him.”

“He’s probably waiting for someone,” you say, looking down at your drink in front of you.

“Well, let’s see.” Beverly’s words have your heart lodged in your throat. But all she does is flag down your waitress, Phoebe. “Would you happen to know the guy at the bar’s situation? The curly haired one?”

“Him?” Phoebe asks, resting a hand on her hip. She sighs and shakes her head. “Think the poor guy got stood up. He’s been here a while.”

Your three friends all “aww,” turning to you with wide or pleading eyes. 

“Oh, now you have to,” Val says. 

“Cheer him up,” Lucy says. 

“A hot girl like you? Come on, make his day,” Val adds. 

You know they’re not going to let it go. It’ll probably be even worse if you keep saying no. One of them will probably go over there and say something about you and you’d rather have that embarrassment fall on yourself. 

“Ugh, fine, fine!” you concede. “Phoebe, can you get him another of whatever he’s drinking? On me?”

Phoebe nods and heads over to the bar as your friends cheer in excitement. As you stand up from your chair, you flip the group of girls the bird. Knots tighten in your stomach as you smooth down your skirt. Beverly wolf whistles at you and you roll your eyes. Mentally cursing out your friends, you take a deep breath and head in the direction of the bar. 

You see Phoebe slide another drink towards the man, who furrows his brow and says something to her that you’re unable to hear. She shakes her head, and her eyes catch you over his shoulder. With a smirk, she nods her head at you, which has the man turning on his barstool to look. When his eyes meet yours, you feel the knot in your stomach burst into a thousand butterflies. One side of his mouth quirks up in a sexy smirk and you almost trip over your own feet. 

“And here I was thinking this was shaping up to be a shitty night,” he says as you step closer. He pulls out the barstool next to him and you slide on it. “But here comes this beautiful woman buying me a drink.”

As nervous as you feel, you give him the best smile you can as you turn to face him in your seat. Wishing a smooth or flirty line would just come to you like they seem to come to Beverly, you find yourself falling flat. 

“Well,” you say with a shrug. “No one should have to drink alone.” 

“Then don’t make me,” he says, eyeing the lack of drink sitting in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you assure him.

“It’s only fair,” he says, holding up the new pint of beer that Phoebe brought him.

“Vodka cranberry,” you relent. He places your order with the bartender then turns back towards you.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, the smile on his face knocking the air from your lungs. You barely manage to introduce yourself in kind, too flustered after having that bright grin flashed in your direction. “Well, what brings you out tonight?”

“My friends,” you say, knowing that their three sets of eyes are probably boring into your back right now. “Haven’t gotten to spend much time together since college.”

“College, huh?” Eddie asks, taking a sip of his beer. “How long you been out?”

“Trying to ask my age without asking me my age?” The smirk on your face has Eddie dropping his head forward with a small laugh.

“You got me,” he says. 

“I’m twenty-three,” you tell him. “Graduated about six months ago.” 

“And what’s a pretty young thing like you doing, coming over to talk to an old man like me?” He tilts his head to the side, and it gives you a better angle to view the tattoo on the right side of his neck. It’s an old style plague mask, with a long beak and dark eyes. Unsettling anywhere else, but on Eddie? He manages to make it look sexy. 

“You’re hardly old, first of all,” you say. “Second of all…the truth? I was nervous but my friends kept hounding me.”

“So, what, like a dare?” 

“No!” The word comes out almost as a shout, and you shake your head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You take a deep breath as the heat in your cheeks hits an all-time high. “They saw that I kept looking over at you, so they said I should come talk to you.”

“Why were you looking at me?” The shit eating grin on his face should be annoying, but it’s endearing. 

“Because I think you’re ridiculously attractive,” you admit. You’re very thankful that your drink arrives at that moment because you can pick it up and pretend to be preoccupied with that instead of meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

“Let me assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

Eyes finding his, your heart feels like it’s one beat away from launching itself out of your chest. His dark brown eyes are looking into yours, a hint of amusement and a touch of desire there, and you swear, time stops. 

“So, what’re you doing all alone at the bar?” you ask. When Eddie’s eyes go down towards his drink, you take the opportunity to peek at his hand, searching for a wedding ring. But the way his hand is laid in his lap, you’re unable to see. Leaning back proves a bad idea, as you tilt your barstool too far backwards. Luckily, Eddie’s quick and manages to catch you before the stool can take you down. His left arm is around your waist and his right hand is clutching your arm. Before, you’d thought your face couldn’t get any warmer, but this incident was proving otherwise.

“That one sip go to your head already, sweetheart?” Eddie asks with a chuckle. 

“No, no I’m fine,” you say as you resituate yourself on the chair. “Thank you. Might’ve cracked my head open if it wasn’t for you.” Eddie removes his hands from you – making you instantly miss them – and you make sure to pay special attention to the left one. You feel a surge of adrenaline when you see there’s no wedding band. 

“Couldn’t let that beautiful hair get all bloody now, could we?” There’s a playful smile on Eddie’s lips that ignites a fire low in your belly, one only he’d be able to extinguish. “But, uh, what did you ask me? Oh, why I’m here alone? Well, I was originally supposed to be having a date, but seeing as she should’ve been here over two hours ago, I think it’s safe to say I got stood up.”

“That’s awful,” you say with a frown. Who could possibly be stupid enough to stand this man up? If you knew that Eddie was waiting somewhere for you, you’d make sure you were there with plenty of time to spare.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says with a shrug. “If she had shown up, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. And I’d wager to say this is far better of an evening.”

The shy smile on your lips is involuntary as you duck your head down, taking another sip of your drink. There really was no need for the alcohol though – Eddie was already making you feel light and floaty.

“And how would you know that?” You turn back to face him, resting your elbow on the bar and holding your chin in the palm of your hand. 

“Well,” Eddie says, leaning back a little to stretch out his back. “It was a blind date set up by my buddy, and he knows me pretty well. So, the woman was probably exactly my type, but it doesn’t matter. Because there’s no way in hell she could’ve been as beautiful or sweet as you.”

“You don’t know that I’m sweet,” you say, body tingling all over from his other compliment.

“You came over here to buy an old man a drink. If that’s not sweet, what is it?”

“You’re not old,” you reiterate, poking him in the chest, just inside of his leather jacket. “And, I don’t know, maybe I had an ulterior motive.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at your smirk. “What might that be?”

You’re silent for a moment but can’t come up with anything clever to respond with. “I don’t have one,” you admit with a giggle. At your laugh, his smile grows and it only stokes the embers of the fire within you.

“You know,” Eddie says, leaning closer to you. “Your friends haven’t stopped staring this way since you came over.”

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes fall closed. “Of course they haven’t. Are they being weird?”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “But they do look like they’re paying their bill. And the curly haired one is coming over here.”

A moment later you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to face Val. 

“We’re heading out,” she says, eyes glancing over at Eddie. “You okay, or..?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stay,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Make sure you do,” she says, giving you a stern look. It obviously serves as a warning to Eddie as well because it’s true that Val wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops if it got too late and she hadn’t heard from you. Taking her hand, you give it a quick squeeze before she follows your other friends out the door. 

“Seems like you’ve got some good friends,” Eddie says.

“I do. Sounds like you do as well, since one of them set you up tonight.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, wrinkling up his nose. “I don’t think I’m going to let him do that again.”

“Lost faith in him?” you ask with a laugh. 

“That, plus I met someone I think I wanna ask on a date.” He leans in towards you again, and you follow his lead. 

“Oh yeah? Sounds like a lucky lady,” you say, voice dropping. 

“You think?” Eddie asks, sliding his hand down the bar until his fingers brush against yours. 

“Most definitely.” You inch your fingers forward until they intertwine with his. A smile lights up Eddie’s face and it suddenly feels like your veins are filled with carbonation. 

The next few hours are spent with you two sitting at the bar, heads close together as you talk and laugh, hands rarely letting go of one another until last call. Begrudgingly, the two of you vacate your bar stools as the employees start to get the place ready to close.

“Can I give you a ride home?” Eddie asks as he holds open the door for you.

“Mm, you can save the gas. I live in the apartment complex two blocks that way,” you say hooking your thumb to the left. 

“In that case, can I walk you home?” he amends. 

“I’d like that.”

Eddie’s hand finds yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Lacing your fingers together, you tug Eddie in the direction of your home. The evening air has you shivering, and Eddie comes to a stop, forcing you to as well when his hand holds you back. Furrowing your eyebrows at him, you watch as he shrugs out of his leather jacket and slides it over your shoulders.

“What a gentleman,” you say with a smile. “Thank you. Oh! I like your shirt.”

Eddie looks down at his Black Sabbath shirt and grins as he takes your hand in his again.

“Yeah? Thanks. This is from the best days. Before Ronnie James Dio.”

“Who?” you ask. 

Eddie is simultaneously amused by the adorable wrinkling up of your nose and pained that he’s shown his age yet again.

“Jesus, I am old. You weren’t even alive during Watergate, were you? Oh, please tell me you know—.”

“I know what Watergate was!” 

“Just checking,” Eddie says with a laugh. 

“So, how old are you?” you ask, giving him a smirk. “You make it sound like you’re a hundred.”

“Forty-one, thank you very much,” Eddie says, tugging you closer to his body. You laugh as he drops your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulders, shaking you gently. 

“That’s not old!” you say, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow. 

“Yeah, young enough to keep up with you.” Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you look up at him to see him smirking. 

“So, if I were to break away right now and run the last block to my apartment?”

Eddie chuckles. “Sweetheart, you’re wearing heels and I’m wearing boots. I could give you a head start and still win. Even if you weren’t wearing heels, actually.” 

“Hmm,” you hum, leaning your body against his. “Sexy and confident.”

“Aw, you think I’m sexy?” 

You can hear the smirk growing in Eddie’s voice before you glance up and see it on his face. 

“Very,” you affirm, cheeks heating as you come to a stop in front of your apartment complex. Eddie stops alongside you, taking your hands in each of his own. 

“I think you’re pretty damn sexy, too,” he says. 

Your eyes dip down to the sidewalk between you before coming back up and searching his face. 

“Can I see you again?” Eddie asks.

“I’d like that.”

The relief on Eddie’s face grips your heart like a vice. Did he really think you’d say no? This was one of the best nights of your life. You open your purse and dig out a pen. Eddie looks at his arms and manages to find a spot free of any previous ink where you can write your phone number. You chuckle as you hold his arm steady and write down the digits. 

“Are you free this weekend?” Eddie asks as you put the cap back on your pen.

“I am,” you affirm.

“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” 

“I would.” You slip your arms out of Eddie’s jacket and hand it back to him. He takes it in one arm, tugging your body closer to his with the other. Your hands rest on Eddie’s chest and slide up to wrap around his neck. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” Eddie says. He leans in and your breath has just enough time to catch in your throat before his lips press against yours. Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together as you melt into the kiss. Just as you’re about to part your lips, Eddie’s pulling away, leaving you breathless. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eddie asks, thumb coming up to rub against your lower lip. You hadn’t even realized you were frowning until you have to school your features into neutrality.

“You stopped kissing me,” you say, pout evident in your tone. 

Eddie chuckles and your pout only grows. “Trying to restrain myself, baby. You’re making me feel like a teenager again.”

“Yeah?” The poutiness in your tone is replaced by pride as a smirk grows on your lips. 

“Uh huh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Gotta leave something for the first date too, right?”

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, and he leans in to nip at your earlobe, causing you to giggle.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” Eddie whispers in your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, making Eddie grin as he pulls back to look at you.

“You better,” you say, trying to sound more composed than you are. 

“Don’t worry.” Eddie shrugs his jacket on before cupping your face in his hands. “I’m definitely looking forward to it more than you are.”

“I highly doubt that,” you tell him. He chuckles and presses one more kiss to your lips.

“Talk to you soon, gorgeous.” Eddie forces his unwilling feet to take a few steps away from you, back in the direction of his car.

“Can’t wait.”

You blow him a kiss, which he pretends to catch with his over dramatic flair—as if he almost drops the kiss on the sidewalk. It’s cheesy and you love it. Giving him a small wave, you take one last look before heading towards your apartment. 

Eddie grins to himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black jeans as he walks down the street. He shakes his head.

“Still got it, Munson.”

#eddie munson #older!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request #roses collection

[jazzsonly]

ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ

pairing(s): jenna ortega x stem!singer!reader

warning(s): none. (i mean ig you can count kehlani as a faceclaim?? nr i j didn’t feel like blurring the face.)

summary: ❝ Yeah, you know I tried to stop

Yeah, you know I tried

I tried to give you a little less of my time ❞

masterslist.

part two. part three. part four. coming soon!

────────✬────────

last night, y/n y/l/n made her appearance at the oscar’s. she walked the red carpet and was seen mingling with a few friends, it seemed to be a normal event for the star…but the after the event is where things took a turn. the star was filmed in the back of venue, seemingly sharing a heated discussion with a pap before swinging on the man.

click to load more details…

arms crossed, you moved your body lightly side to side, swaying the rolly chair you were seated that was placed across your manager, publicist, and agent who were all on the opposite side of the meeting room table.

through your dark shades you could see mia, your agent, nervously chewing on her lip, for someone in the business she was never really good in under pressure situations. then there was your publicist, julia, who had the bitchy face and attitude to match with it. she always liked to make a point she was not happy.

no wonder all three of your husbands left you. you thought but you knew better than to say it.

lastly, there was you manager, robert, who dramatically had his head in his hands, while exhaling and inhaling extra loudly to let you know he was not happy.

“i don’t see why i have to apologize.”

with squinted eyes, rob looks up at you with a death glare. “because this is a bad image.”

“the public isn’t dumb tho’ they’ll know i don’t mean it. so why waste the time i could be spending in the studio or better yet, living my life.”

“it doesn’t matter if they believe it or not, and it damn sure doesn’t matter if you mean—it’s about the image.” this time, julia had something to bite.

behind your shades, your eyes rolled. “i have a perfectly fine image.”

“you? perfect image?” rob sarcastically laughs in your face.

“need i remind you, you’re the same person, who just last month got so drunk that you publicly urinated in a mop bucket and yelled ‘fuck bill clintion.’ you’ve never even met that man.”

mia nods in agreement, “you need to apologize, y/n. and you need to control your anger, it’s getting out of hand.”

“i don’t need to do shit! i’m the one who pays your bills! i make the money around here!”

“you sound like a brat!”

“yeah? julia, you’re fired! fuck you.”

rob, stands up, throwing his hands up in a stop motion. “ok, enough! julia and mia please give us the room for a minute.”

they all share a look, julia looking back at you with a devilish glare. (you giving her the same stare.)

once the two ladies exit the room, rob paces for a minute, giving himself time to collect him emotions.

“y/n, i’ve been managing you since you were fifteen years old….you’re twenty-three now, i’m gonna need you to act like it.”

this time you stand up, “rob, that pap had it coming!”

“don’t give me that, you deal with paparazzi everyday. i know this about jenna and seeing her with that guy last night.”

clenching you jaw, you look away silently.

“i’m sorry that happened, kid. i know it hurts and—“

“you don’t know shit, rob. that pap just annoyed me, that’s all. meeting dismissed.”

you harshly grab your phone from the table and move around it to exit the door, despite rob’s protest and julia asking where you were going you kept marching down the halls of your label.

“have a nice—“

“yeah, you too.” you cut off the receptionist as you continue out the front, glass doors where a black car awaited for you, with your usual driver standing outside of it.

“hey sean.” you utter to the smiling man as he shuts the door behind you, and making his way to the driver’s side.

“so where to, kid?” the man adjusts the rearview mirror to get better look at you.

licking your lips, you think for a second before pulling out your phone and going to the messages app.

can i come over?

don’t let the paps see you.

“drop me at jenna’s.”

“you got it.”

you utter a bland ‘thanks’ while laying your head against the tinted window.

━━━👩🏽‍💻i guess you can call this a ‘prequel’

#sam carpenter #tara carpenter #ethan landry #ghostface #mindy meeks martin #scream six #sam carpenter x you #sam loomis #scream #jenna ortega #writingofn #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #scream 6 #amber freeman #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader

[rippersz]

𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.

«——..✞..——»

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

«——..✞..——»

“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch

«——..✞..——»

Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.

What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.

God you hope that’s not the case.

You really really hope-

“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.

Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.

You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.

You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.

Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.

Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.

And yet?

Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.

“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.

You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.

“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.

Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.

“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”

Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.

And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.

“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”

A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.

The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.

You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.

“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”

It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Who knows? It may even be fun.

Larissa smiles.

It’s wide.

It’s.. scary.

Sharp.

A Cheshire grin.

Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.

“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.

“All of it.”

Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.

You swallow.

“…And if I win?”

Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-

“Then I will give it up.”

…What?

You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.

No.

No.

Practiced indifference.

She doesn’t think you can win.

She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.

But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?

Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.

“If you win, I’ll give it up.”

…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?

“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.

Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.

“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.

I’ll give up the cannibalism.

Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.

She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”

A light eyebrow quirks up.

“Wouldn’t I?”

A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.

Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.

Oh well.

You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.

“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.

But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.

And you haven’t even been there for six years.

So you’re saying you’re doomed.

Yeah. Basically.

“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.

“…Poached lamb, you said?”

She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.

“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”

At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.

“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”

Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.

“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”

It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.

You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.

“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.

Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.

“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.

You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.

Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?

Yes.

Always the prey.

Yes.

Meant to be hunted.

Yes.

Meant to be found.

Yes.

No.

Wait. …Meant to be found?

No...

No no no no no no.

Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.

Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.

Oh if only that were true…

If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.

You finally sigh, resigned and tired.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”

«——..✞..——»

Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x

(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)

(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)

«——..✞..——»

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dead dove: do not eat #darkfic #cannibalism #cannibal larissa weems

[queer-irritator]

Impure Thoughts (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader)

Prompt: It’s a boiling hot day and the reader wears next to nothing.

Content warnings: Adult language, smut

Takes place in Clemen’s Point. Fem reader physique, neutral pronouns. Continuation of Bloody Knuckles, but not necessary to read it first.

Despite how cold the nights can get on the lake, the days can be brutally hot. Unfortunately today was boiling hot, and sticky from humidity. Days like this make you want to do nothing all day. Not to mention, the clothing options in stores all had far too much fabric. That’s why you’ve taken to making some undergarments of your own. You took an older pair of drawers and cut off about ¾ of the pant leg. You were currently finishing up hemming the bloomers, keeping the signature ruffles on the edge. You also added another layer of lining to make your new shorts more opaque. You cut off any loose threads, closed your tent flaps and tried them on. You sure weren’t used to seeing so much of your thighs exposed… but, then everyone else around camp walked around in their underwear. This was just shorter. You took a deep breath and assured yourself it would be fine. The camp was like family, no one would care what you wore. You exited your tent and tied up the flaps. 

“Oooh, you got some short shorts there, (y/n)!” Tilly was the first to see your new garment.

You turned around to face her, “I know… but it's just so damn hot. Does it look bad?” You asked her. 

“No, not at all! I just think you might have some of the boy’s eyes on ya.” Tilly let out a giggle. 

You blushed lightly. There was only one person here you’d want to look at you in that manner. You shifted your stance awkwardly, “You think so? I think of most of them like family.” 

“Yeah,” Tilly agreed with you, “But men will be men… especially the ones that haven’t seen that much skin in years.” 

You chuckled a little, “I’ll just give ‘em a good slap across the face.” 

Tilly laughed with you, “There you go!” She headed off to work on some laundry. 

You glanced around to see who was in camp at the moment. You started to feel a little self-conscious. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of the countless times you’ve seen the men walk around without a shirt when it gets this hot out. You tugged on your sleeveless chemise slightly. You were just going to go about your normal routine, which started with filling wash basins. You bent down to pick up an empty bucket and felt the back of your shorts ride up slightly, exposing the bottom of your ass cheeks slightly. Standing up straight again helped the cloth cover yourself again. This is something you’ll have to get used to. 

You made your way across camp, carrying the empty pail. You definitely felt more eyes on you than normal. As you passed Dutch’s tent you saw him do a double take at you out of the corner of your eye. 

“Excuse me, (y/n), but are you TRYING to give the men in this camp a heart attack?” Dutch’s voice boomed throughout the camp. 

You stopped and turned toward him, “If the men can’t control their own thoughts then that’s their fault. It’s hotter than hell out here, Dutch. You don’t say anything when Charles or Sean parade around without a shirt.” You protested his sexism. 

Dutch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I do not have time to argue with you right now.” 

“Well, I do.” You stated, placing the pail down and crossing your arms.

Dutch was searching his brain as to why he had agreed to take you in, “Just… ONLY on hot days, understood?” He gave in, having too much on his mind to stand and argue.

“Yes, sir.” You said, laced with as much sarcasm as you could muster. You picked up your pail and headed to the lake to fill it up. 

Arthur was listening to Charles tell him about a lead on a stagecoach carrying a lot of money when he spotted you on the shore of the lake, bent over and filling up a pail. He could see the distinction between your upper thighs and the roundness of your ass. He shifted his feet as he could feel blood starting to head south. 

“Arthur? Are you listening to me?” Charles snapped Arthut out of his filthy thoughts.

“Yes, I am! Go on…” He lied.

Charles turned his head to see you walking back towards camp, immediately noticing your new bottoms. Seeing the full bucket in your hand, he could imagine exactly what was holding Arthur’s attention.

“Unbelievable…” He looked back to Arthur and shook his head slightly, “Come talk to me when you're done thinking with your pisser.” Charles said as he walked away. 

“I- I wasn’t thinking with my- !” Arthur turned to call at Charles but he was out of earshot by now. He let out a sigh. Why the hell were you walking around like that? God only knows what the other men were thinking about when they saw you. He walked over to Pearson’s wagon where you were emptying the pail of water into a wash basin. 

You heard his footsteps approaching you and you turned your head to greet him, “Hey Arthur.”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Arthur’ me… what the hell are you wearing?” He questioned you. You bent down to place the now empty pail on the floor, “Somethin’ I made because it’s so damn hot.” You replied to him.

He clenched his jaw as he felt his cock jump in his pants. Getting to see you bent over up close was nothing compared to earlier. 

“You can’t just walk around like that.” Arthur told you as he ran a hand down his face.

“And why not?” You turned to look at him, getting fed up with all the men telling you what to do. 

“‘Cause… the men ‘round here are gonna get… impure thoughts.” Arthur lowered his voice for the last part of his sentence. 

You sighed and had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “Frankly, Arthur, I don’t give a shit.” 

“Well…” He was trying to think of a way to convince you to cover up without outing his jealousy. “Ya just need to cover up…” He spit out, “I’ll find ya something.” He put a hand on your upper back and led you to his tent and let down the covers for privacy the second you both were inside. 

You sighed and leaned on his cot, arms crossed across your chest in defiance. You looked around his space, it had a lot more space than your tent. His wasn’t even a tent, it was a tarp over the overhang of his wagon. He had a flower, a carton of cigarettes, and a photo on a crate near his bed. 

“Here.” Arthur handed you a pair of pants he’d been digging in a chest of clothes to find. 

You took the pants and immediately set them down on his cot next to you, “I’m not gonna change, Arthur. It’s too hot.” 

You met his gaze as he sighed and noticed a flush over his cheeks and a sheen of sweat on his face and chest. He even had a few more buttons of his shirt undone today. Your eyes continued down his body until you noticed an unusually large bulge in his pants. It made sense now as to why he was so desperate to get you to cover yourself.

“Arthur?” You called to the flustered man, looking strictly at your face. 

“Yeah?” His throat sounded a little dry.

“Are you the man in camp having “impure” thoughts about me?” You decided to tease him.

“No, I’m just trying to look out for you is all.” He deflected, now avoiding looking at you entirely. 

You pushed yourself off his cot and took a few steps closer to him. You placed a hand on the side of his face gently and turned his heat to meet your eyes once again. 

“That’s too bad. Because you’d be the only person I’d want to be havin’ those thoughts ‘bout me.” You rubbed your thumb against his cheek softly. 

“...Really?” He took a moment to respond to you, unsure if what he had just heard was correct. 

You nodded at him, “Mhm… You gonna kiss me, Arthur Morgan, or do I have to?” You teased him. 

Arthur placed his hands on your waist and closed the space in between you and gently kissed you. 

You closed your eyes and sighed happily into the kiss, you moved your hand to the back of his neck and deepened the kiss and parted your mouth slightly.

Arthur slid his tongue into your mouth and tugged your body closer until it was flush with his. You could feel the pressure of his clothed erection against you which caused your face to flush. You reluctantly broke the kiss and instructed Arthur to sit on his cot. He obeyed and sat so that his back was resting against the wagon. You climbed on top of his lap, legs on either side of him and kissed him again, your hands on either side of his face. Arthur’s hands found their way to your ass and he began to knead your flesh. 

This caused you to moan into his mouth and grind your hips down on to his strained erection. Arthur’s grip on your ass tightened and he began to plant kisses down your neck. You moved your hands down and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and explored his torso with your hands. 

One of Arthur’s hands left your ass and slipped in the front of your shorts and found your clit with ease. 

You gasped at the feeling of his hand in your pants, it was like all your fantasies were coming true in this single moment. You fumbled with the buckle to his gun holster and then groaned in annoyance when you found he had another belt buckle to get through. 

“Too many fucking buckles.” You whispered, more to yourself than to Arthur, but it earned you a chuckle from the beautiful man beneath you. You worked on his belt buckle while Arthur’s fingers began to rub you in lazy circles. 

You leaned your forehead on his shoulder and moaned softly at the sensation. You wanted to make him feel just as good, so you got his belt off and ripped open his pants and shoved your hand down them and found his cock. He was definitely gifted, just the right length and the most girth you’ve ever felt. He let out a groan of pleasure, he spread around the wetness you were producing and easily slid two fingers inside you. It was like a competition of who could make the other person feel the best. 

You moaned, louder than you mean to, when you felt his fingers inside you. You began to kiss him sloppily, and open-mouthed as you grinded down on his digits. You also began to stroke his length, earning a muffled moan from Arthur. 

You broke the kiss and straightened your back, causing Arthur’s fingers to hit your g-spot. You moaned and started to move your hips faster, speeding up your strokes as well. 

“Yes, please, Arthur, right there!” You could feel yourself getting closer to your release. You started to apply more pressure to the head of Arthur’s cock on each stroke. You could feel his body start to tense up. 

“Gonna make me cum with all your dirty talkin’” Arthur grunted.

“Can’t help it. You feel so good.” You blubbered, starting to feel incoherent from all the pleasure.

Arthur used his thumb to rub your clit at the same time. You used your free hand to clasp onto his shoulder as your orgasm peaked and washed over you. 

“Holy shit.” You moaned as you rode yourself through the pleasure. 

You unknowingly had tightening your grip on Arthur’s member and he began to thrust his hips up in time with your strokes. Arthur moved both his hands to a death grip onto your waist as he moaned with his own climax. 

“So fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He praised you as he used one hand to move some hair that was sticking to your face with sweat. His cum had splattered onto his own naked torso and onto your white chemise. 

You sighed in contentment and leaned all your weight against Arthur, feeling exhausted. 

Arthur stroked your head and mumbled all sorts of nonsense at you. 

“Don’t know how long I’ve been wanting that… Better than I could have imagined too.” He kissed your head.

His words made you smile, “Well, now I’m yours so we can do it whenever you want.” You told him, your subtle way of confessing your feelings. 

“Sounds perfect.” He switched from stroking your hair to rubbing your back, “But I’m the only one who gets to see you in these, okay?” He said, a hand resting on your ass. You blushed and nodded, “Alright.” You assured him as you straightened up and slid off his lap. 

“Give me the goddamn pants.” You finally gave in. 

Arthur gave you a smile as he gave you the pants that were next to him and you slid them on. 

“Looks like you need a shirt too.” He observed, a stripe of cum was already drying on your shirt. 

“Mmh, everyone’s definitely gonna know something’s up when I come out in your clothes.” You took off your shirt and grabbed one of Arthur’s button ups and put it on. 

Arthur shrugged slightly, “Pretty sure the whole damn town knew I was sweet on ya.” He cleaned up himself and buttoned his shirt and pants, followed by his belt and gun holster. 

You smiled at him, “I could say the same thing.” You said, giving him a kiss.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x gn reader

[outlaw-apologist]

Save Yourself | GN!Reader x Various (RDR2)

Summary: It’s the beginning of the end and gang members are starting to flee. Things are looking grim, fights are breaking out. Arthur begins to realize you’re in danger. However, he’s not entirely sure whose side you’re on. It’s time for an unfortunate conversation.

Multiple endings if a specific gang member is your lover

Pairings: Friend!Arthur, Arthur, Charles, Hosea, Javier, John, Kieran, Dutch

Warnings: Mentions of death,  Murfree Brood activities AO3 LINK

The air was so thick you couldn’t breathe. Was it the humidity of this shit-hole or the unsettling presence of iron and burnt skin wafting forward from the cave so rank you could almost taste it? Perhaps it was the mood everyone was simmering in now that betrayals have been made? You weren’t too sure, but it was hard to exist inside of. Whatever it was, it was only worsened by the heavy loss you held in your chest. Hosea, who had been a father figure in your life, and Lenny. Truth be told, you thought Sean’s death was pretty horrific. Never did you imagine you’d lose so many of your family in such a short period of time.

Molly’s death seemed to haunt everyone, even those who hated her. Was she a rat? Nobody could agree on an answer. To certain gang members it was a just cause and a good riddance; while to others it birthed paranoia in their minds that they, while innocent, may be next. You couldn’t sleep. Not that most of the gang could. Echoes of the Murfree Brood washed over Beaver’s Hollow all day and all night creating a sense of unease. They could return and attack at any moment. Slit your throats and skin you alive. Could you really trust those on guard duty when arguments are breaking out daily?

The line was being drawn in dirt before everyone eyes. Sides were being picked. You knew it was coming. Everyone did. It was hard to believe. Hard to accept. Everyone here… You love them all so much! Some more than others, but the fact still stands that these people have been your life and your family for years. This was all you knew. It scared you. Who were you without the gang? What would you do? Where would you go? That monstrous weight of reality sunk in while you watched Arthur physically remove Strauss from camp. No one said a word.

Because soon it’ll be their turn.

Because soon it’ll be yours.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop was agony. Frightened whispers were exchanged between the women as the men threw words like ‘brothers’, ‘loyalty’, ‘rat’, and ‘betrayal’ around violently. “It’ll be okay.” So many tried to comfort each other, but you know the truth. You know it’ll only get worse from here and it weighed heavy on your mind the past few nights while staying up listening to strange calls from the forest and arguments around the fire.

You didn’t know what to choose or where to go. You love everyone so much, life without them seemed terrifying. A loss within its self you’ll have to grieve hand in hand with the deaths. How could you do that to yourself when you’re already so down? Maybe dying with them would be best… You could tell Arthur’s nearing his end and he seems to know it too. Watching him die, watching everyone lose their heads trying to make sense of everything, knowing more deaths will come and not knowing who will be the next to go… Hell… It was hell.

“Looks like Trelawny is gone for good.” You gazed up as Arthur leaned against the tree across from where you were trying to read in an attempt to escape the reality of things. With a sigh you folded the book shut, studying Arthur’s pale face. It’s hard to believe this is the man who had been so strong for you all these years. Who was as healthy as a bounding deer only months ago. Seeing hin in such a state broke you in ways you couldn’t even describe.

“It’s probably for the best.” Was all you managed to say. It was hard but you tried to keep your feelings swallowed away. Arthur didn’t need that on his plate right now.

You were surprised when he bent down, meeting you at eye-level. “Ride with me.” There was no room for argument, it must be something serious. You both rose in silence, making your way through camp towards the horses. As you walked you couldn’t help but to check on Karen who was passed out drunk, making sure she won’t choke to death on her own spit while you’re gone. Jack waddled past the two of you. “Have you seen Kane? I can’t find him anywhere.” Your eyes scanned the area as you realized you too haven't seen the dog around for some time. “He might be out exploring. I’m sure he’ll come back.” Your words were little comfort for the boy who walked off with a pouted lip to ask someone else.

“It’ll be okay.” Arthur’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. He must’ve noticed a tint of darkness wash over your face. “I mean… It’s not okay, but we’ll make it okay.” Tired eyes searched your features. He was trying hard to understand where your head-space was at in all of this.

Pulling yourself into your saddle, you tugged the reigns of your horse. “I know. We always do the best we can, right?”

“That’s right.” Something in his voice gave way to his heart in this moment. He was just as torn up about all this as you were.

The ride was silent. You both just sat with your peace while riding towards the East Grizzlies. “I thought… Uh… We’d head up to O’Creagh’s Run. Maybe do some fishin’.”

“Sounds good, Arthur.”

“I had a friend up here, Hamish, he’s a funny guy. An old veteran who lost his leg. Found him on the side of the road one day while I was uh,” he shrugged, “wonderin’ around. Said his horse bucked him and took his false leg, asked me to get it back. After that he invited me to go huntin’ a few times. We had a nice talk, recalled our lives and the things we should’ve done different. That’s how I got Buell here.” Arthur pat Buell lovingly as he spoke. “Old Hamish didn’t make it back from one of our hunting trips, asked me to take care of him. How could I say no?” His voice was soft since Arthur switched from talking to you to talking to the horse himself.

A fond laugh found its way past your lips. Arthur loved animals so much, it was endearing. You could tell he cared greatly for Buell. “I did wonder when I saw Buell show up suddenly. Found a good match after Boadicea?”

“I think so.” He flashed you a brilliant smile. “I hate to think our time together might be cut short with all this-” He waved his hand as if motioning to some abstract thought-form created by Dutch’s recent behavior. “Boadicea was my girl. But Buell? Well, I think I can trust him to carry me for the rest of my days. He’s strong, stubborn-”

“Like you.” You interjected cheekily, causing Arthur to playfully roll his eyes.

“If you say so.”

Soon you came upon the lake and slowed your horses. Despite his physical state, Arthur still helped you down, giving you an affectionate pat on the back. “The real reason I wanted to bring you out here… Well… We need to have a talk, away from all this mess.” You could tell it was hard for him to get these words out. Arthur didn’t quite know exactly where you stand and a part of him was worried he’ll make the situation worse than it already is.

Your legs carried you until the front of your boots were licked by lapping water. This place is peaceful, you thought. Not muggy. Not decaying. Immediately you sucked in a deep inhale, allowing your lungs to fill with crisp clean mountain air. Deer bound across the other side of the lake and you can see colorful fish dart beneath the waters surface. In this moment you felt so much gratitude towards Arthur for taking you here. “This is a good place to have it, can probably keep my head straight here for once.”

He grunted in agreement. “I know what you mean. Beaver’s Hollow…”

“More like Beaver’s Shithole.” You sat a moment, screwing the components of your rod together before accepting the bait Arthur stretched out in the palm of his hand. He let out a hearty laugh which then dribbled into a coughing fit. Without a second thought you rubbed his back while passing over your water canteen.

“I’m fine.” He waved it away, wiping his mouth while his chest settled.

Silence spread over the shore. You and Arthur soaking in each other’s company. The only sounds that reached your ears for awhile were of your lines casting and the chattering ducks. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.” You cocked your head to look up at Arthur. His eyes were trained on the water, as if trying to see something.

“Where’s your head at with all this? I mean Javier is…. And Bill hasn’t had a thought a day in his life, but he’s stayin’ with Dutch. Then there’s that business with Marston being broken out too early, there was talk of hanging him for Christ’s sake!”

“I know…” You paused, reflecting on the tone in Arthur’s voice. His heart is broken for his brothers. For his family. “I saw the way Dutch talked to you yesterday, couldn’t believe my own ears. Looks like Micah’s the golden child now.”

Arthur let out a mirthless laugh. “I said to John just the other day, looks like we don’t gotta worry about who Dutch’s favorite is anymore.”

“You went and blew that bridge up, right?”

“Yeah, we did it.”

“How’d that go?”

He shrugged. “Almost got ran over by a train, but it went as well as expected. Don’t know if this is the noise Dutch wanted. Seems idiotic if you ask me.”

“I’m gonna be honest Arthur, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t understand any of this. New York? We hardly survived Saint Denis and that’s nothing compared to New York… It makes no damn sense. He gets pissed off when people treat us like a bunch of yokels but that’s who we are. That’s who we’ve always been.”

“Don’t I know it. But Dutch… He’s gone. He’s changed. I don’t know when it happened or why. I-” Arthur shook his head, eyes tilting up to watch the clouds float by, “I tried so hard to make sense of it all and I just can’t wrap my mind around it.”

“John mentioned he thinks it was the trolley accident but I remember even at Horseshoe, Hosea was calling him out on his bullshit. He started changing things then. The plan he had was good, was solid. If we had just gone West, back to our home… And bought some land we could’ve lived peaceful lives.” Old feelings of upset swelled in your belly as you reflected on your time camping out at Horseshoe Overlook. It now seemed as though it were a lifetime ago instead of mere months. You paused to let it settle before continuing. “Hosea knew then.”

Arthur’s eyes squinted and you could tell he too was recalling these moments. “I remember that. He said something to Marston, told him to get out while he can. Take Abigail and the boy and run far far away. Suppose he knew something was up before the rest of us did. Hosea knows Dutch best… knew…”

The correction made you both flinch. It still wasn’t real, Hosea being gone.

Thankfully attention was diverted when a fish tugged at your line. Jerking the rod sideways you quickly reeled it in with excitement. “I caught something!”

“Let’s see it.” Arthur leaned down to scoop your fish out of the water, showing off a nice pike. “Not bad.”

Pulling out the hook, you decided to stow the fish away. “Nice dinner, we’ll have to cook it before we head back, I don’t think Pearson would be happy with our fish haul.”

“Probably not.” Arthur mused. “I’ve seen him drinking recently. Karen too, poor Karen.”

“She hasn’t been the same since Sean.”

“None of us have, but she definitely took the worst of it. This whole thing… I guess we’re at the end now.” He side-eyed you in an attempt to measure your reaction. “You know, while we’re about all this…. I know it’s not easy but you should get yourself out. Start makin’ a plan, do something. I don’t want this to end with you gettin’ hurt.”

Anxiety shot through your heart like a streak of lightening across a pitch black sky. “Arthur-”

He said you name quietly in an effort to silence you. “There’s no way forward now and some distance between you and this will do you some good. You’ve been with us for a long time. Hell, we had a good run. But, John and I were talking, and I know you wanna stay loyal to Dutch, but we ain't the ones who changed. I’m afraid… well… I’m afraid Dutch’s gonna get you killed. Losing you ain’t worth all the money in the world.” The tears in Arthur’s eyes showed you just how much those words meant to him.

___

If Arthur is your friend/brother and you have no lover in the gang:

“Obviously I can’t tell you what to do and I don’t wanna force you to pick sides. Javier and Bill are our brothers and I don’t wanna fight them. You’re my family before everything else, before money, always. Get yourself out. Make a life for yourself.”

You stay silent, holding eye-contact with your long time friend. “Is this really how you feel?”

His head dipped down as he kicked at a stone. “It is.”

Nodding, you let out a tensed breath. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Just- put yourself first. You worked yourself to death for this gang, that’s good enough. I don’t need to be burying you too. So get out of here. It doesn’t have to be now, it doesn’t have to be tonight.” You watched as Arthur fished a bill clip out of his bag. “When the time comes, take this and go.”

Taking the wad of cash, you flipped through seventy bucks. “Arthur, I don’t need your money.”

“Oh yes you do! Don’t pretend with me, I ain’t that stupid. How you gonna start a new life with ten cents to your name? Dutch has all our money, every last dime of it hidden somewhere out there. You take this and you make the best of it. I don’t need it anymore.”

You reached over, gently squeezing Arthur’s shoulder in solidarity. There was a moment where you both swapped fond smiles. “Thank you Arthur, truly.”

“Don’t mention it. Go somewhere and start right. No more of this life, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Now,” he picked up his rod again, “let’s catch me a fish so I don’t go hungry.” Arthur’s laugh rang out across the lake, sounding wonderful to your ears. There was something so bittersweet about this moment in time. The other shoe has dropped. This will probably be one of the last peaceful moments you’ll have with Arthur.

___

If Arthur is your lover:

You could feel your own oncoming tears now starting to burn the corners of your eyes yet not ready to spill. No… Not like this. This can’t be how things go. “Run away with me!” You blurted desperately.

Arthur seemed confused as you grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight as if you were afraid he would leave you. “What?”

“Run away with me, Arthur. We can… I don’t know. Get you somewhere warm and dry. I heard Colorado’s a great place for people with tuberculous. We can go West, just like we wanted. We can make a home for ourselves, get another dog.”

Arthur forced himself to turn away in an attempt to hide his tears, shaking his head while repeating your name like a mantra. “What about the rest of the gang?”

“They can come with us! Listen, we can make plans for everyone to slip away and make their escape. Then, if they want, they can join us again. We can get that land together. Build a house or two. That was our idea all along, right?” You gently pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his thin waist. God he had lost so much weight in the past month… “Arthur… Please look at me.”

“Christ.” Came Arthur’s trembling words. He finally looked at you. Crying. He wanted so desperately to have a life with you. A future. Reaching out he caressed your cheek. “It won’t work, sweetheart. Not with the price on my head. We’d be runnin’ forever and you need to get out of this life.”

You frantically searched his face, hopelessly trying to hold onto any crumb of information that might aid your racing mind. “Then… We’ll help everyone else get out and we hide in the Rocky Mountains. I heard the Pinkertons don’t bother searching anywhere past Telluride. Let’s go to Colorado city, it’s our kind of place. Real rough and the law is loose there.”

He scoffed, pulling away from you in frustration. “Damn it! Just stop. Why’dya gotta be so damn stubborn all the time?”

“Oh, I’m the stubborn one?”

“Look at me.” He raised his arms out, doing a little spin so you could take in all of him. “I ain’t making it to no Colorado city. I’m dying. It’s too late for me. But you? You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“Arthur-”

He interrupted you, words cutting like a knife. There was no changing his mind. “Get yourself that plot of land in the West. Somewhere nice, peaceful. Get yourself a hound, okay?” You hadn’t noticed in the heat of things; tears of frustration and heartache that were clouding your vision now fell freely over your rosy cheeks while Arthur pushed a huge wad of cash into your shaking hands. “There’s a thousand here.”

“A thousand?” You breathed, simply staring at the money. You made no move to count it or put it away. It was just too… surreal. Too fake. This couldn’t be happening…

“Should be enough. I can try to get you some more, but…” The flat of his palm dragged across his tear stained cheeks. “Don’t waste your life on me. Find a nice man to settle down with, you deserve that much. I can’t go with you… I wish I could I-”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

Arthur flinched at the heartbreak in your voice. This was just as hard on him as it was on you. “I know darlin’. But I rather die happy knowing you got out and you’re long gone before anything can happen to you. You can finally live the life I could never give you.” His large hand gently folded your fingers over the money and he guided you to your satchel, prompting you to tuck the money away safely. “Please… Please, this is all I ask.”

A gut wrenching sob ripped through your trembling form. All of your pent up negative feelings were rearing their ugly head, stampeding through you like wild horses until you completely broke. You found yourself in Arthur’s arms, sobbing miserably into his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I know.” His voice held just as much pain while he said your name and kissed your hair. “Now set me free. I’ll always love you, wherever you go. So leave.”

“Okay.” You whispered. “If this is what you really want, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

___

If Charles is your lover:

“Charles has a good head on his shoulders. He and I’ve spoke about this and-”

Now it all made sense. “He asked you to talk to me.”

“He did.” Arthur confirmed. He gently said your name to draw your attention back towards him. “Look, I get why he’s worried. You’ve known me far longer than he’s known you. We’re family and you’re one loyal piece of work.”

It was hard to fight the small sad smile that made its way to your lips. “He wants out then?”

“Charles? Shit, he’s your partner. You know what he wants. He just doesn’t know if you’ll choose him or me.” Abandoning his rod, Arthur took out a pack of smokes, placing a cigarette between his lips. “Choose him.” He struck the match on the bottom of his boot only to flick it away once the cigarette was lit.

“Arthur-” You scoffed. “Charles knows what you and John mean to me. What this gang means to me. I know he won’t ask me to pick sides, but you and I’ve been together for far too long. It seems wrong if I don’t see this through with you ‘til the end….”

He simply shook his head. “This is the end. Everything beyond this is some fucked up story we ain’t got time for. Dutch’s twisted fairy-tale. I’m already on my way out a different route. Hell, even Marston’s realizing he needs to pack his family up and leave. You’re right about Charles, but to be frank, he shouldn’t have to ask you to pick sides. You choose him. You always choose him, you hear me?”

Arthur’s words dissipated into the air followed by a long silence as you tried to register everything being said. “I hear you.”

“Good.” He picked his rod back up, attempting to keep the fish interested by reeling it in a bit. “I’m happy for you, ya know? Out of all the men you could’ve ended up with I’m happy you’re with him. He’ll take care of you, treat you right.”

You gently elbowed him, wearing a shit eating grin. “Does that mean we have your blessing to marry?” You took delight as Arthur squinted at you.

“As if you need my blessing. But yeah, you have it.”

You both laughed and for awhile it was peaceful as you fished. “It still feels wrong.”

“I know it does. It is wrong, Dutch should’ve never gotten us in this situation to begin with.”

“And now I have to leave my brothers behind.” Even though they were your own words they shocked you as they reached your ears. Realization finally hit you like a fearful deer frozen in front of an oncoming train. “I don’t want this situation to be the last time I see you, Arthur.” You reached up to brush away a stray tear. “I can’t bear the thought of that.”

He hummed in appreciation. “I know. But we’re all leaving one way or another. I rather you leave right.” Shuffling beside you drew your attention over to him as he pulled a bill clip from his satchel. “It ain’t much but Charles is a capable man. I’m sure this’ll last you long enough.”

You counted out fifty dollars. “Arthur-”

“Don’t you say you can’t go accepting my money. You can and you will. Charles sure as hell won’t. That doesn’t change the fact that you need money to survive.” He eyed you almost threateningly. “Put that way before I make you.”

There was no arguing with him, you knew better and so the money disappeared into your bag without fuss. “Thank you. For always taking care of me. I wish you could come with us, I know Charles feels the same.”

Arthur simply shook his head. “I have a lot of unfinished business to take care of. And, if I’m honest, I’ll sleep better at night knowing you got out safe before anything gets worse.” He took a final drag of his cigarette before stomping it out, then he pulled you into a tight embrace. “You live a good life for me, okay?”

A shaky breath rattled your body while you hugged him for dear life. God, did you love this man. He always cared about you before anything else. “Okay. I will.” The promise was true to your heart. Anything for Arthur.

You two stayed hugging for awhile until a tug on Arthur’s line diverted the emotional tension. “Looks like I got dinner!” He giddily grabbed at the pole, reeling it in. “Check out the size of this one! You sir, are a fish.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh and admire the way the setting sun illuminated him. There Arthur was, one of the most genuine human beings you’ve ever met. Your heart swelled with love and adoration for him in that moment, just appreciating it for what it is. This will be one of your last core memories with him, you thought. Might as well make it last.

___

If Hosea was your lover:

“I know you stayed loyal to us because of Hosea, but… I think he’d want you out.”

It was hard considering what Hosea would want for you in this situation. He had wanted you out since Blackwater but you insisted he should stay with his found family… The family that got him killed. Not that you blamed Arthur and John, but you weren’t stupid. You knew Hosea didn’t feel great about the bank robbery and you knew Dutch played his hand. There was a time you were upset with Arthur for not taking Hosea’s side that evening, yet you had seen how much guilt riddled him already and so any harsh feelings fell away almost as quickly as they began.

“He would. He did.” You finally spoke, idly playing with a loose strand of your hair. “But I know if he were here he’d want to make sure you boys were safe. I can’t do that to him. I want to fulfill his wishes if I can.”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head while cursing your name beneath his breath. “Don’t do this to yourself. Look at’cha,” he motioned to you, “you’re exhausted. You’re miserable. You need to go. Before Dutch decides his dear old friend’s lover is a rat or- whatever’s going on now. Don’t stay in this mess on his account. That’s what got him shot. He should’ve left with you when he had the chance.”

“There’s no point in should’ve’s Mr. Morgan.” Arthur’s face softened when he realized you’re on the verge of tears.

“I know.” He said quickly, voice dropping to a harmless tone. It wasn’t Arthur’s intention to drag you down further. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just want you to understand.”

“The message is loud and clear.” You sat yourself on a nice rock, needing something solid beneath you in an attempt to help ground your raging feelings. “Hosea loves you boys so much. I love you boys… And the girls too, of course. I guess… I feel like I have a responsibility to make sure you’re all okay.”

Arthur stepped forward and bent down to meet you at your level respectfully. “Thank you. I truly do mean that, but you’ll get yourself killed. Now, how are John and I supposed to live knowing Hosea would beat our ass for letting you get hurt? I know it’s scary. Hell, it’s scary for me too. Hosea’s gone. He made it out his own way. It’s only right you go too. Live your life for him, it’ll make him happy.”

You looked down when Arthur placed something in your hands. “You’re giving me this?”

“Sorry it ain’t much, but you’ll need the money. Abigail snatched up Hosea’s savings before they moved camp, gave it to me in case I wanted to put it in the box but it only seems right if you have it. This is your money now.” He gently squeezed your hand, flashing a tired yet genuine smile. “Thank you for making Hosea happy for all these years. We had a good run.”

You searched his fatigued face, taking note of how genuine Arthur looked. His eyes heavy with pain and his smile was somber from old memories. “Yeah,” you breathed out a mirthless laugh, “we did.” It was truly over now. Time to let go. “I know there’s nothing I can do for you, Arthur. That’s why you’ve been so quiet with everyone, isn’t it? Because it’s bad…. Hosea, he-” Your fingers idly played with the dollar bills in your hands. “Well, you know. He was sick for awhile. Not sure if it’s what you have or not but- He lived quite long.”

“He did. Not as long as he should have, but you’re right. Can’t say I have the same fortune as he had, or maybe I do in another sick way. I don’t know. All of this is confusing. Despite everything, one thing has been clear to me for some time now. You belong somewhere you can build a nice peaceful life. I don’t know exactly what I believe in just yet, but I do know… Wherever Hosea is, if he can look down at you and know you’re safe and happy, then that’s enough.”

No longer could your tears be held back. You let out a soft cry, leaning down to rest your forehead on Arthur’s shoulder “Thank you Arthur. I wish I could do more… Just… Please keep him company until I can come home to him.”

“You have my word.”

____

If Javier is your lover:

“I won’t stop you if you choose to stay. I know your loyalties probably lie more with Javier than Dutch himself, but Javier is… Well…. He’s something else. I ain’t gonna lie, it hurts knowing this is what he’s choosing.”

You nodded slowly, seeming to understand what Arthur meant. He and Javier have been brothers long before you joined the gang. It must be hard knowing a bond like that was being broken. Javier himself has been devastated Arthur and John aren’t on his side.

“After everything Javier’s been though… I don’t think he can picture a life without Dutch. Whether he’s giving too much importance to him in his life or not, it’s not my place to say.” You turned kind eyes towards Arthur. “Just know there’s more to this than loyalty. This is bringing up a lot of feelings in him and I don’t think he knows what to do with them. Somewhere along the way Dutch become his safe place.”

Arthur hums slowly, squinting as he listened. “I’m not sure I fully get what you mean, but I think I understand. I’m just worried is all.”

“You and me both.” You sighed, staring up at the orange sky. Your eyes followed the darkening clouds as night approached. “If I’m honest, I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose Javi... He’s my everything.”

“I know. I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. I know your relationship is none of my business, I just can’t help but to worry about you. Javier ain’t got his head on straight and I’m afraid Dutch’ll have the barrel of his gun right at your temple while Javier’s swearing he won’t shoot you. I don’t know how much he can be trusted right now and I mean no offense by that. He’s my brother, and you’re my family same as him.”

Arthur rubbed the sweat from his brow before continuing. “I’m not gonna tell you to leave him or nothin’ like that. Just… Make yourself scarce for awhile. Get out of the line of fire. Javier’ll find you again. Come what may, he does love you.”

It killed you to consider something like this. Everything was happening so fast it was frightening. There’s even a small part of you that fears someone will claim you’re a rat and you’ll end up with a bullet in your skull. If that happened… would Javier watch you die with disgust on his face? Or would he be heartbroken for you, his lover?

You know Javier would never hurt you. He’s always been sweet on you, so much so the camp used to playfully make sick noises whenever they ran into you two… It’s hard to believe that wasn’t so long ago, when you were all friends and jokes were harmless. You hated how things became. You finally got your Javi back from Guarma and now… This all must be so traumatic for him. It sure was for you.

“Arthur… If I leave it’ll destroy him.” You finally look down, electing to study a rock beside your shoe. “I can’t do that to him.”

Arthur was silent for a long time. You could tell this decision pained him. He’s always been someone who cared deeply for you and your well-being. “Okay.” It was such a simple response, yet it was not uttered lightly. Arthur knew there was nothing he could do. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

You gently pressed your elbow to his arm in an attempt to lighten his mood. “And Arthur?” He grunted in response. “Thank you for always being such a good friend. I’m sorry it’s come to this. I hate seeing you two fight. I know you’re doing the best you can and it hasn’t been easy on you… Just… Thank you.”

A warm arm embraced you in a side hug, causing you to look up at Arthur’s smiling face. He really did just want you to be happy. “Don’t worry about it. Just catch me a fish. I’m hungry!”

“Huh?” You laughed, wiggling out of the hug. “What makes you think I’m catching your dinner?”

“You’re the one who knows Javier’s secret fishing techniques. I’m sure you can manage.”

Maybe this decision isn’t the right one. You didn’t know. But, for now, you enjoy the last moments of happiness with your dear old friend, Arthur Morgan.

_____

If John is your lover:

“Your relationship is none of my business. I know you and John are sweet on each other, but I also know he cares for that boy and his mother. If you can… take them with you. Maybe some good can come out of Jack’s life.”

You took time to consider Arthur’s words carefully. “I hate that everything’s so complicated.” You admit. “I know our relationship ain’t the most proper thing to do, but you can’t choose who you fall in love with.”

“I know-” Arthur laughed a little followed by a few body shaking coughs. “Maybe I fell in love with the wrong people, I don’t know. But I get what you mean. Love is complicated business.”

“Jack, he’s… Such a cute kid. John already told me Abigail might know where Dutch hid the money… I understand she’s not fond of me and I don’t blame her. I’m worried she might only help herself and Jack.”

“Abigail? No, she’s not like that.” Arthur’s hands came to rest on his gun belt while he took you in, giving you a gentle smile. “Even if she did, she has every right to. That boy should come first.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“You and John will be fine. You’re a good shot and he’s… A mangy coyote of sorts.”

Arthur’s comment amused you enough for a chuckle to pass your lips. Your eyes settle on the ducks resting across the shore for awhile, watching them prune themselves. Life as a duck must be so peaceful, you thought. They only had to worry about surviving… Then again maybe you and the ducks were one in the same. In the end everything is just trying to survive, including you. “You don’t think John’ll leave me to save Abigail and Jack, do you?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “but what I do know is that he loves you. At least, I think he does. It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. After he left Abigail and Jack like that… I’m glad he realizes he messed up. But… Marston…” Shaking his head, Arthur slowly began reeling in his lure in hopes it would invite a fish to his hook. “My best advice is to get friendly with Abigail and all three of you make a plan together. Don’t try to go it alone, it’ll only make things harder.

You nodded in understanding. “I love Jack, I really do. Every day I hear him ask Abigail why everyone’s being so mean and it breaks my heart. He shouldn’t have to grow up like this. And John… Well, of course I want him out too. He almost died for Dutch’s foolishness. Dutch could’ve saved him in Saint Denis!”

“I agree with you, but maybe it was a blessin’ in disguise.”

You scoffed, brows furrowing with both upset and confusion. “How can you say that, Arthur!?”

He held his hand up in surrender, signaling that he meant nothing nasty by it. “Our boat sank to the bottom of the ocean. The chaos was so great, I’m not sure if I could’ve grabbed Marston before the damn thing went under. You know he can’t swim. I’m glad he was in prison than with us. If he was there… You can break a man outta prison but you can’t break a man outta death.”

Shoulders falling, you searched Arthur’s face. It was easy to get lost in your feelings nowadays but you knew Arthur’s words rang true. So much gratitude was held in your heart for Arthur Morgan. Saving John all those times… You didn’t know what would happen without him. “I know I haven’t said it enough, Arthur, but you’re a good friend.”

“Maybe sometimes, but not always.” He gave you a knowing look, offering a small smile to show he appreciated your words. “Take care of them for me, okay? Make sure Marston stays straight and Jack has a good life.”

“I will.” You promised.

____

If Kieran was your lover

“I’m surprised you stuck with us for this long after….” Arthur trailed off. He was struggling to figure out the right way to bring him up. “Kieran was a good kid. I didn’t know him well but I liked him enough. I know you loved him a lot and he was real sweet on you… After what happened to him... After you watched…” He fell silent again, afraid he’ll say the wrong thing. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is maybe it’s time to find somewhere peaceful.”

You searched Arthur’s face, desperation reflecting on your own. “But… Where will I go?”

“I don’t know.”

“How will I make money?”

“I’ll give you some money, so don’t worry about that. I’ll find something for you. We’ll figure it out. It’s the least I can do after all this mess. Kieran didn’t deserve what happened to him. If you want to watch Colm swing you’re welcome to come with us, but I doubt that’s any business you wanna stick your nose in. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of O’Driscoll boys there.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, eyes clouding up at the very thought of your beloved Kieran. What a gentle soul with his whole life ripped away from him. You two had spoken about maybe one day owning a stable together, or trying to make a life for the both of you… Those dreams shattered your heart these past few months. The image of his death still haunts you. “I’ll thank about it.” You responded to Arthur’s hanging comment. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see any more death. “I’m going to be honest… I don’t know if there’s anything out there for me.”

“Sure there is.” Arthur gently nudged you in a brotherly way. “I know it’s hard to see the future now, but Kieran had big plans for the both of you, didn’t he? You can still do that if you want. Wherever he is, I’m sure that would make him mighty happy. Or- uh… I don’t know… We’ll figure something out.”

Imagining yourself surrounded by beautiful horses made you smile. “It would be peaceful. I could use a little peace in my life after all this.”

“Yeah, me too.” He chuckled. “Whatever you decide now you don’t have to do that forever. Just take each day at a time. But one things for certain, you need to leave.”

“I know.” Your voice shook with emotion. “This has all been scary and I feel so overwhelmed.”

Stepping sideways, Arthur wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a warm side hug. He rubbed your arm in an attempt to soothe your fears. He wasn’t good at comforting people but he hoped this would do something. “Hell, I feel the same way. But we’ll get you taken care of. Don’t you worry.”

“Thank you, Arthur. I’ll try to be strong. I think… I want to live the life Kieran always wanted but never had. And maybe… If he’s ever here with me… He’ll be able to enjoy it too.”

“That sounds nice. I think you’re right, I’m sure he’d love it.” Arthur’s blessing lifted a weight off your shoulders. He was one of the few members of the gang you trusted with your life. If he agreed it would be good for you then it must be the right choice.

Calmness washed over you for the first time in days. Your gaze met the clouds, wondering if Kieran could see you right now. “Then it’s settled.” You decided. “I’ll pack tonight.”

____

If Dutch is your lover

“I know you love him.” Arthur gently placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Dutch is.. was my family. But all this insanity…”

You immediately pulled away from Arthur. You weren't upset with him, Dutch had been treating you coldly too. But to think your Dutch wasn’t the man you loved anymore was terrifying. What happened to him? Was everything a lie? Did Dutch sell you a dream? It made you ill trying to make sense of everything. Arthur pulled you out of your thoughts by gently calling your name.

“Look, I’m sorry but after Molly they’re already looking for someone else to be the rat. Now, I don’t know if we have a rat or not, but if we do it sure as hell ain’t you. Bill’s been talkin’. His words don’t mean much to anyone with half a brain but Micah’s starting to agree with him and now those words are gettin’ into Dutch’s ears. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “They’re saying all that… About me?” A dark look washed over Arthur’s face confirming his truthfulness. Fear froze your blood ice cold. Suddenly you were hit with a silent understanding that you probably won’t make it out of this alive even if you didn’t want to betray Dutch. “Shit!”

“I know.” A weary sigh left Arthur’s lips. “The girls in camp are real worried about you. Molly loved Dutch in her own special way, look where that got her.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to find comfort, you stared at the ground in contemplation. “I know... Shit, Arthur! Dutch… The Dutch I know is such a loving man. Someone who always wanted to do right by everyone, who wanted to see orphans taken off the streets. This isn’t him.”

“Look at me.” Arthur murmured your name so you’d raise your head. “That Dutch is gone. I wish it weren’t the case, but it is.”

“Is he still in there?”

“I don’t know. If he is… He’s buried deep inside. I can’t see him no more and I tried… I really tried.”

“I can’t give up now! I-” You trailed off in an attempt to swallow down the cries that wanted to escape your lips. “After Hosea, I’m afraid of leaving him alone.”

Arthur understood. You could tell he felt similarly and that this was destroying him as much as it was destroying you. “It’s hard. I hate going against him like this, he’s all I’ve ever know. I wish there was a way to… Uh…. I don’t know… But we can’t risk it. I can’t make you do anything you don’t wanna do. All I’m saying is that it might be better to cut your losses. Leave now so you can remember Dutch as the savior you knew instead of the man he became.”

“Betrayal is out of the question even if I don’t wanna stay.”

“C’mon now. That’s not true.” You could hear the groan in his voice. “You stayed loyal far longer than you needed to. Sometimes things just end. Knowing when to step away isn’t betrayal.”

“I guess.” Your finger brushed against your cheek to catch a falling tear. “I don’t know what happened to him, Arthur. I miss him so much. All I want is my Dutch back.”

Arthur abandoned his pole to pull you into a tight hug. Such a simple gesture, you hadn’t been hugged in so long. You didn’t even realize how badly you needed a hug until your emotions broke through your walls. He gently rubbed your back as you wept openly into his shoulder. Arthur’s voice was soft and soothing while he spoke. “Me too. But he ain’t comin’ back. I wish he was… Believe me. We’ll have to do the best we can. We’ll get through this. Just consider it, alright? That’s all I ask.”

“Alright.” You whispered, holding onto him for dear life. You couldn’t bear the thought of your family falling away just yet. Trying to dismiss your anxiety you close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. All the crying in the world won’t help you. It was over whether you liked it or not.

You felt gratitude towards Arthur for being so patient with you. He held you until you felt well enough. “Now, let’s get you that fish dinner.” You could feel the rumble of laughter in Arthur’s chest as he responded heartily with ‘Gladly!’. Dutch was gone, but it made you feel better that you at least still had Arthur.

#Arthur Morgan x Reader #Charles Smith x reader #john marston x reader #Dutch van der linde x reader #Hosea Matthews x reader #kieran duffy x reader #javier escuella x reader #Arthur Morgan #Charles Smith #john marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #javier escuella #kieran duffy #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #reader insert #writing #my writing

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - A Sean Wallace/OFC Story.

I couldn't wait to share this with you, besties. Here, have the first chapter! I know that Sean is pretty niche as he doesn't seem to have all too huge a fandom, but if I can garner a few readers, and you guys could help me out by reblogging this, I would be very appreciative. Commentary is very welcome, as usual, so yes, dive on in and hopefully enjoy! If you like it enough, you can have chapter two sooner rather than later, too :)

The story begins seven years in the past, but will then run semi-canon to the Gangs of London plot and timeframe.

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,826

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

May 24th, 2016. 

Coffee, the financial times and resounding quiet. These were the defining components needed for Finn Wallace to begin each day within the spatial surroundings of his corner office, the floor to ceiling windows offering the widest view of the city he ruled over with an iron fist.  

“Mr Wallace, please. Sir...”  

The words of Minnie, his secretary, delivered outside of his office with mildly pleading desperation tore his attention from fastidiously studying the FTSE 100, Finn looking out from above the pink sheets of paper. He witnessed her scurrying along, her eyes pleading while trying to match the long strides of his son as he approached. “You know your father doesn’t like to be bothered...” 

...between the hours of eight and nine. He needed a full hour with nothing but a newspaper and a good supply of anything that came from Whittard of Chelsea prior to starting his day. His son had other ideas that morning, though.  

Placing his coffee down, he lifted his chin as Sean strode through the doors, a heap of paperwork within his grasp.  

“One print off of the e-contract signed late last night by Kevin Cavanagh, and one verbal assurance that the vessels may port within his dock space for the original agreed amount.” The paperwork hit the desk so hard, it was almost splashed in coffee, Sean looking thoroughly pleased with himself. As he should, his father thought. Kevin had been extremely tricky in this, his son’s first solo deal for the company. 

Reaching for the contract, Finn could scarcely believe it, but there it was. K. Cavanagh. Signed, sealed and delivered. “How the fuck did you swing that, boyo?” 

Kevin Cavanagh had shown himself to be a rather large thorn in the side of the Wallace empire for weeks, the investor digging his heels in over their proposed deal, an influx of two hundred million sterling into the company’s legitimate holdings to fund the proposed apartment complex they wished to build, and a grant of passage for boats containing large shipments of heroin porting from Pakistan to enter his docks.  

The terms and conditions set by Sean had been made clear, but having the upper hand in it all, Kevin had gone back on their proposed arrangement out of sheer greed. It had not gone down well at all. Especially since Finn considered Kevin to be a long-standing friend as well as a business associate. He wasn’t about to involve himself, though. It was Sean’s deal, and he had to learn in going it alone, friend or not. 

In their world, though, alliance and friendship were subject to change at any given moment. Friendships aside, Sean had been advised by his father to do whatever it took to secure the deal by the required deadline, which had passed at midnight the night before. 

Looking upon his son expectantly, Finn was under no illusion over Sean’s self-satisfied pride in his achievement. His poise did not slip, though. Not even for a second. “I have my ways, all of them effective.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”  

His son smirked, the same bloody smirk he’d had since he was three, back when he’d usually hoodwinked his mother into the offering of a second reach into the biscuit tin. “If you knew that, then you’d know as much as me.” 

Finn felt himself losing patience at his allusivity, but couldn’t quite keep the grin from spreading across his face. “Wiley little shit.”  

He chuckled, checking his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. Lunch at The Strand, 1pm? I have a table booked. See you then.” 

“If I’m late, order my usual.” Looking over the contract once again, Finn rested his chin upon the pinch of his thumb and forefinger. If he’d gotten a result without them having to yield to Kevin, it surely didn’t matter how Sean had procured the deal.  

As time would tell, though, it would.  

Striding from the building, Sean climbed into the waiting car, ready to be whisked across London for a viewing on another apartment complex currently under construction. It would take up most of his morning, but such was the nature of his role within the company. Build big, reap big, remain on top. 

Leaning back against the plush leather upholstery within the black Mercedes, Sean winced, feeling the soreness that remained from his weekend of sexual hedonism. Clawed scratches marking the freckled alabaster of his back from his shoulders right to the rounded muscles of his arse had certainly felt good at the time, but now the scabbed wounds stung and itched.  

That itching sting was experienced internally, too, a rolling wave of cold discomfort washing over his insides once again. Guilt. Maybe even a little remorse. Who’d have thought it? Certainly not him. He had previously considered those emotions to be completely superfluous, with a nature such as his, and most definitely not when his actions had reaped such rewards.  

Sean was, if nothing else, completely ruthless in the pursuit of attainment.  

His go to in attaining a desired result didn’t always equal the exertion of moral turpitude, but in this instance it very much had. There was no going back on it either. He had struck out, used his bargaining chip of blackmail and garnered the desired results. At twenty-five years old, he’d thought himself perhaps above the actions he’d resorted to, considering his bartering and negotiation skills to be proficient enough.  

They hadn’t been.  

However, Sean knew that blackmailing Kevin Cavanagh into agreement by threatening to upload a video to the internet of himself fucking his eighteen-year-old daughter would work like a charm in securing a signature, and it had.  

He’d understandably been beyond livid with him, after receiving an edited version of the hour-long filming, showing just enough for Kevin to know that Catherine would be subjected to great personal embarrassment and emotional anguish if he didn’t comply.  

With his arm figuratively bent up his back, he had agreed, the money immediately transferred, and the contract signed the evening before, once he and his wife had returned from their weekend away. Kevin had also struck a permanent black mark against the son of his old friend, knowing that Finn likely had no part in the blackmail. As chillingly cutthroat as he could be, it wasn’t his style. Words would be had, though, and Sean knew he likely had that coming to him sooner or later.  

Just as he would when Catherine caught up with him. He highly doubted Kevin wouldn’t tell her. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, placing his earbuds in and locating the video he had promised to delete. He’d been hesitant there, not because he intended to nefariously make good on his threat and upload it anyway, he had no cause to. The reason behind his stalling was much more complex, and not one he was in a hurry to admit. Not even to himself.  

Hearing her sweet moans as he watched himself on the screen, face buried between her legs, a jolt ran right through him. He could almost still taste the sweet honey of her cunt on his tongue, feel her skin against his, and with a shift in his seat, experience her nails clawing at his back.  

It was only ever meant to happen once. Once had led to an entire weekend, and there it was again, the unpleasant sting rolling through his guts as he closed his eyes and remembered it. Remembered her.  

Her... her. 

It was only ever meant to happen once... 

St Augustine’s Grammar School for Girls was one of the most exclusive private Catholic schools in the entirety of London. For an eye watering yearly fee, it boasted unsurpassed examination results, a sterling OFSTED record, and much to the fury of the young ladies within its prestigious halls, a strict code for uniform. A black skirt to the knee, high black socks, a white shirt and a navy blazer and tie.  

Even the students attending the adjoining sixth form college had to still adhere, much to their loathing. For Catherine Cavanagh, as soon as she was out of the front gates with her friends, adjustments were made.  

Her neatly pleated skirt was rolled over a few times to hitch it up, her folded over socks pulled up until they came over the knee, her blazer and tie stuffed into her bag and her shirt undone to reveal a little of the black lace bra she wore beneath, as well as being knotted at the waist. She liked to show off some of what she had. 

Lashings of smoky black eyeliner were applied, her lips liberally glossed and her shoulder length blonde waves all shook free of their ponytail prison before she sauntered away, ready for a coffee with her friends, of whom also made similar adjustments to their own uniforms. They were young women at eighteen, all mildly incensed that they still had to stick to the rules of their frigidly stalwart school.  

Catherine, or Rin as she preferred to be called, was far from frigid.  

“Oi darlin’! Fancy gettin’ in the back of me van and lettin’ me give ya one, eh?” 

Ugh. Builders. The worst of the worst for shouting pervy obscenities from the open window of a slowed down Ford Transit. She immediately rolled her eyes. “No thanks, but I fancy giving you this.” Raising her middle finger, her confident smirk grew, her friends cheering on her usual chutzpah.   

“Fuck you, then! Little slag!” 

Rin snorted. “You wish, mate.”  

“I don’t get it,” Rashida, her bestie mused, fiddling with her necklace as she cocked her head. “He wanted to shag you five seconds ago, and now you’re a slag because you didn’t take him up on his offer?” Her face was a picture of bemused disgust as she barked a laugh. “Wanker.” 

“Yeah, sums him up. Right, let’s hit the coffee house. I’m fucking gasping for something strong, hot and foamy.” 

Their friend Carly couldn’t help but pipe up, laughing at her own joke before she’d even spoken it aloud. “What, you want the big fella from Game of Thrones in a bubble bath? What’s his name?” 

“Tormund,” Rin confirmed, her eyes dreamy. “You know I’m weak as fuck for a redhead!”  

While the prospect of Kristofer Hivju, the actor who played the aforementioned character awaiting her in a bubble bath was preferred, it was a double shot cappuccino she needed most at that moment. After a day of hard studying for her ongoing A Levels, Rin needed the coffee like air. For no other reason than to stay awake for the duration of her journey home.  

She wouldn’t be driving, though. Yet to pass her test, she would simply call for a driver in the employment of her father to collect her when she was ready. Being rich certainly had its perks. Entering the coffee shop a ten-minute walk from the school gates, she paid for her order and stood back to wait, sensing someone behind her before a familiar voice spoke into her ear. 

“I am unsure whether your mother would approve of that skirt, young lady.”  

Turning, her eyes widened. “Bloody hell! Hello!” It had been at least five years since she’d seen Sean Wallace other than fleeting moments in passing, the last proper time being when he was home from university in his final year. The occasion had been when her parents had thrown a garden party for her father’s friends and closest business associates, plus their families.  

“How are you, darling?” He drawled smoothly, kissing her cheek as they exchanged a brief hug. “It’s been a bloody age.” Looking down upon her, his gaze was nothing but clearly appreciative, thinking just what a beautiful young woman she’d become. In fact, beautiful was an understatement; she was an absolute knock out.  

In any other circumstance, Catherine Cavanagh would be his perfect match. She came from a similar family, steeped in criminality and staggeringly wealthy, with the best education money could buy, just as he himself had received. They were cut from the exact same cloth, she and Sean. This was not an exercise in procuring the perfect match long-term, though. Far from it.  

“It has, I was just thinking that myself,” she confirmed as they parted, feeling a little flustered. Oh, how she’d always fancied the arse off Sean. She might have been extremely confident for an elder teen, much more woman than girl in that respect, but still. Sean was the bloody holy grail as far as she was concerned. “As for me, up to my eyes in all things A Levels, only two more exams left and then its fingers crossed I do well enough to take the provisional place I’ve been offered at LSE.” 

He remembered that the London School of Economics had been her long-term goal from the last time he’d spoken to her at length, back when she was just a kid of thirteen. “I remember you telling me, yes. Forgive me, but I forget just what it is you were aiming for?” 

A flutter delighted her insides at that, how he hadn’t forgotten her desires to attend LSE when it had been so long since they’d last talked in depth. She’d thought he’d merely been entertaining her thirteen-year-old self and her long-winded plans for her future, but no. He’d actually listened. Then again, he was always very attentive when engaging with someone, no matter who they were. “BSc in mathematics, statistics and business.”  

“I bet your father is very proud,” he commented, Rin turning to pick up her coffee.  

“Well, I suppose he will be if I actually pull it off and attain the necessary grades. It’ll stand me in good stead for taking over the family business too, when he eventually retires.” They were birds of a feather in that respect, both primed to one day sit at the helm of their respective family empires. “Speaking of which, how are things with you? You’re doing very well at the Wallace Corporation, according to dad.” 

“Your father is correct, I am.” He was still very sure of himself. Anyone else would call it arrogance, but Sean was merely infectiously confident. He knew what he wanted, and he went right after it, Rin completely oblivious to the fact that his cool blue eyes were directly focused upon his present target. “Long hours and probably less pay than I should be garnering, but I must confess to be doing rather well for myself. Especially considering I have only been there just over four years.” 

They eventually became so lost in their catch-up chatter that Rin completely failed to realise that her friends had moved to a table, turning to see them wave at her. The looks on their faces spoke volumes. 

“I’ll be there in a sec,” she assured them, praying Carly didn’t open her mouth. No such luck. 

“No, no,” the girl herself chirped right on cue, waving her hands gently in Rin’s direction. “You stay there with your fancy man; we’ll be over here when you’re ready!” 

“Oh, shit off!” she chided, feeling her cheeks burn. Turning to Sean, she shook her head. “They’re embarrassing as fuck.” 

“I can’t say I’m embarrassed, being labelled as your fancy man.” Pulling out a seat, he gestured to it with a flirtatious smile, ensuring her heart virtually catapulted against her ribcage. She definitely blushed furiously at that. Ahh, it was almost too easy, but then again Sean’s charm was legendarily flawless. Being well spoken, powerful, and as dangerous as he was gorgeous didn’t hurt either.  

A red-haired bad boy in a Balmain suit. If Rin had a type at all in this world, it was Sean Wallace. And boy, how the man himself saw that loud and clear.  

“So, I hear your parents are away in France right now?” 

“Yes,” Rin confirmed, the smidgen of envy in her voice clear. How she would have loved a long weekend in the French Alps skiing, too. “They’ll be hurtling down a mountain right now, while I’m stuck here in dreary London, slogging my guts out all in the name of revision.” 

He smirked, picking up his espresso and sipping it. Sean liked his coffee one way; strong and black. “Ah, but you do get Mulford Hall all to yourself for the weekend. Quite the party palace, one would assume.” 

She crinkled her nose, shaking her head. “The staff will grass me up if I even so much as open a can of cider with more than four friends in attendance. Mother dearest likes to keep her fucking tabs on me.” Rin didn’t dislike her mother, but it was no secret that she was daddy’s girl through and through. If he had his way, he’d have arranged for the antiques to be removed from banquet hall and allowed she and her friends run wild. Diane was not quite so lenient.  

Yes. A banquet hall. The Cavanagh’s were truly that wealthy, to have such in their fifteen-bedroom, eighteen-bathroom, sprawling abode located in Westminster, just around the corner from Hyde Park. Half of their sprawling gardens backed onto the park itself, in fact.  

Mostly, Mulford Hall was used as a successful wedding and events venue, half of the house sectioned off as a private family residence and inaccessible to the public, also being a historical location of interest for tourists. It had been in her family for centuries, gifted to one of her ancestors, the very first Lord Mulford by King Charles I. Now with no elder male heir and her grandparents having passed on, it remained in the family by the residing Lady Mulford, her mother. 

“I suppose the little ones would have plenty to say, even if the staff did keep schtum.” Oh yes, Sean was correct there. Her younger brother and sisters would likely relish in telling on her to their parents. Keeping secrets that did not directly benefit them was not in the interests of your average twelve, ten and nine year old children. “I mean, if they could even hear the sounds of partying. Does your mother not keep them in a turret or similar?” 

She snorted laughing into her coffee, spraying a fine mist of foam from the large cup, “Shut up, you shit. You know we’re not that grand.” Suddenly, she felt the cold wave of discomfort when he frowned, wondering if she’d pushed it a little in calling him a shit, even in tease. After all, they did not know each other beyond the boundaries of acquaintance. It was their parents who were friends, not them.  

He then reached, wiping a fleck of foam from her cheek, the corners of his mouth upturning as he watched her blush, leaning across the table. “It takes a brave person to refer to me as a shit.” 

Regaining her confidence, she licked her top lip, shrugging lightly. “Or a gobby little twat such as myself.” 

She was a pistol. He enjoyed that perhaps more than he should have. He laughed softly through his nose, sipping his coffee again as she continued. “I actually have the place to myself, staff aside. The nanny has taken the little terrors to Legoland for the weekend, and there aren’t any weddings on, so I’m enjoying pottering around the old pile in my pants.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Just your pants?” 

“I like to give the gardeners something nice to look at.” 

God, and how nice her body was, he wagered, his eyes sweeping her momentarily. “I bet you do.”  

Lust. Lust delivered from behind full, long auburn lashes tinged with gold, eyes that burned like cool fire as he stared her dead in the eye, Rin feeling as if she was caught in a searchlight she could not avoid. Not that she’d want to. Being illuminated by the desire of Sean Wallace was something she’d only ever fantasised about as a girl. As a young woman, acting upon it now seemed within her grasp. 

And grasp for it she would. “You’re thinking about me in nothing but my pants, aren’t you?”  

Playful, yet direct. He liked that, liked that she was so easily wandering right into the jaws of his trap with such little effort. “I am.”  

She leaned closer, watching him retrieve a packet of mints from his pocket, placing one into his mouth. The way he so effortlessly pressed the white disc onto his tongue made her shiver, imagining the skill a mouth that clever and effortlessly cool might possess. He offered the packet, but she shook her head, the strongness of Trebor’s finest too much for her delicate tastebuds. “What else are you thinking?” 

He mirrored her, leaning near, eyes fixed unblinkingly as he ran his fingertip in a circle over the back of her hand. It was an action that made every single hair upon her arm stand on end. “I’m thinking that the next thing I want on my tongue is you.”  

Fireworks exploded in her chest and gut, a fizz of excitement glittering. Unexpected afternoon sex; it was a proposal most definitely to her liking. “Where’s closer, mine or yours?” 

“Mine,” he confirmed, rising from his seat as he pulled out his phone. “Westminster is a fucking ball ache of a drive at this time in the day.”  

He wasn’t wrong. While Sean called his driver, giving him the name of the coffee shop, Rin made a phone motion to her friends while mouthing ‘I’ll call later’, Rashida and Carly looking as alert as two meerkats keeping the watch at seeing their friend leave with the handsome young mystery man.  

Rashida couldn’t help the joke she made. It was too uncanny. “Little slag.” 

“Love you too, you knob.” Leaving to the sound of her friend's laughter, Rin joined Sean at the side of the curb, only waiting a few moments for the sleek, black Mercedes to pull up before them. He opened the door for her, Rin sliding in and moving across so he didn’t have to walk around, Sean climbing in and shutting the door with a soft clunk.  

“Home please, Tony.” he spoke to the driver, his eyes remaining ahead. She turned slightly to view him, feeling somewhat uneasy when he didn’t return her glance. Dropping her gaze, her thoughts began to race a little, jumping slightly when after a few moments, she felt his hand press to her thigh.  

It was a plan of effortless execution, Sean tracking her movements from afar for a few days prior, learning her daily routine. It truly had been as simple as turning up at her regular coffee shop prior to her usual time of arrival, turning on the charm and reaping the rewards. Leaning close, his beard tickled her earlobe, sending a thrill right through her. “I can’t wait to put my mouth between these fantastic legs of yours.”  

Neither could she.

#sean wallace #sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london #gangs of london fanfiction #joe cole #sean wallace x ofc #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic

[shawnxstyles]

addicted in the afterglow

DATE: OCTOBER 11, 2022

summary: you and harry despise one another, but have close mutual friends. at your friends’ party, the two of you get into an argument. when harry’s contradictions shock you, you consider if you’ve become addicted in the afterglow.

request: yes!

song: Afterglow- driver era!! (fucking love this song)

words: 4.6k

warnings: SMUT BITCHES (f- receiving [choking, rubbing, fingering, a little nipple play, mild edging] m- receiving [slight hair pulling, scratching] protected sex, dirty talk!!), language, loads of dialogue as always

note: part 2 is here!

frat/college!harry x college!reader

—

There were a lot of things in the world that you liked. Loved, even. Some of those things being your family (most of them), your dog back at home, your school, and your friends. You were grateful for so many things and tried your best to appreciate them. Your friends would say you’re one of the most kind-hearted and modest people they’ve ever met. Your friends meaning Sabrina (Rina), Raquel, and Rina’s twin brother Sean. You were probably most appreciative of them and for encountering them in your life. However, when they decided to bring other people into your little circle, you second-guessed their decision.

At first, you felt slightly offended like maybe you weren’t a good enough friend to each of them. But that changed the second Sean brought one of his friends to one of your “Hang Out and Hangover”s. Hang Out and Hangovers are kind of in its name; you all hang out after a long week of lectures and drink at someone’s place. The next day usually results in headaches and strong coffee, so that’s why it has to be somewhat planned out. You’re not really the impulsive type, as your friends would say.

But when it comes to Harry, the newest addition to your used-to-be perfect circle, you become everything your friends say you aren’t.

Harry is… appealing. He has this chestnut hair that spring curls naturally but he covers them with a hat. An annoyingly sharp jawline that he’d probably cut you with if he got the chance. He’s every girls’ dream height at a solid 6’0. He has the persona of a stereotypical frat boy, yet he still gets any girl he wants (but you would never, ever admit that to him).

You could stand him from a distance. Well, you could have. Past tense.

The day you actually talked to him shocked you, even though it shouldn’t have. Why wouldn’t the semi-popular frat boy be a dick? Why wouldn’t he be so arrogant? Why wouldn’t he flat-tire the back of your shoe? Or make sure the elevator was closed before you got on it? Or switch the song on the aux just because it was your favorite song? Anyone else could do the same things, but for some reason when he did it, it felt personal and on-purpose.

He joked around constantly with Rina and Raquel, and yes, they would agree-to-disagree occasionally, but he never had full-blown arguments with them like he did with you.

On one Friday night when you all decided to get together, you didn’t know Harry would be coming. Your friends knew you didn’t “fancy” him or whatever they said, but tried their best to make you two civil. But he didn’t know you would be there, either.

Which makes no sense because it was at your house.

“Oh great, he’s here. When were you guys going to break the news? Attention, attention, the biggest dickhead on the planet just walked through my living room,” You dramatically pretended to act shocked and put your hand on your heart. He closed the door behind him and rolled his eyes.

“It’s always a pleasure to be with you, truly. And for the record, I didn’t know you would be here, either.”

“It’s my apartment!!”

“Ohhh, I thought it was Raquel’s place. Now the horrible interior design makes more sense,” He says so sarcastically and mockingly, you wished you could wax his tongue off. You step closer to him, slowly closing in on him.

“Please! I bet my place looks ten times better than yours! Oh wait, you don’t even have your own place,” You sass back, crossing your arms. You’re pretty sure he just moved in with Sean and Rina.

“Having roommates means cheaper expenses. And I get to hang out with my friends. Work smarter, not harder, babe,” Harry taunts and it drives you cynical. Your friends just stand there awkwardly while you shout at him and he acts nonchalant. You’re nearly chest to chest with pointed fingers when the ding of the doorbell shuts you both up.

“Here,” Raquel said, annoyed while chucking the bag of food in between us. “I got some food. Maybe you two will finally shut up.”

You hadn’t even noticed Raquel left to get take-out, but how would you with Harry practically spitting his minty gum in your face?

The rest of the night was quiet to everyone else, but between you and Harry, it was loud. You would give him a snarky look every time he happened to look at you and he would stick his tongue out mockingly. It was like children fighting on a playground with you two; immature and useless. Similar scenarios went on for months. But after a while, your friends just decided to leave themselves out of it.

The only reason why Harry is even in your mind right now is because Rina is trying her very best to convince you that ”he’s not that bad”. You’ve heard the same story for months.

“Y/N, he’s really not that bad,” You almost laughed because she’s just so predictable when it comes to this situation. “I know he can be a little… into himself—”

“A little? That is the most conceited man I’ve ever met! Or should I say boy?” You shake your head as you look in the mirror. You comb through your hair softly, even though you’re frustrated about Harry. You can’t take out your fury for Harry on your luscious hair.

“You can’t expect him not to go. It’s Sean and I’s birthday for crying out loud. We’re not just going to have two different parties because you two are big babies who can’t stand a night together,” Rina falls onto her back, laying on her bed. “and he kind of lives there now.”

“Just kick him out for the night. Or forever!” You turn to Rina and act like you just invented something unheard of.

“You know what?” She lifts herself from the bed and heads toward the mirror. “we don’t need to focus on him tonight. You know that one guy from Literature class? He’s gonna be there.”

Your eyebrow perks up as you glance at Rina in the mirror. She nods up and down in confirmation until you’re both squealing like little girls. You haven’t been on a date in what? A year? Your recent hook-ups have been kind of lousy, too. And Rina is right, you need to not focus on Harry tonight, and just be free-spirited. And who knows, maybe something will happen with that guy from your lecture.

—

When you first got to college, you didn’t like the idea of partying. You had been to a few in high school and it just wasn’t your thing. But you realized that the problem was that you weren’t with the right people. Now every time a party opportunity approaches, it’s hard to say no.

Raquel said she was going to be late to the party, so when you and Rina had finished getting ready, you set up the party as best you could. There was a table with snacks on them and another with drinks. However, the good drinks were under the counter. You knew those would be pulled out later in the night.

Their house was relatively small for three people, but being in college with a house isn’t easy. But it made decorating fast. There was a large banner across a window and some balloons tied to the stairs. Although it’s their birthday, it wasn’t really a birthday type of party. But people should at least know what’s being celebrated. Speaking of people, you had no idea who was going to show up besides that guy from your Literature class. Since it’s Sabrina and Sean’s friends, it’s probably going to be a pretty packed house tonight.

The party was planned to start at around eight and was already packed by nine. You didn’t even really know that you knew this many people until they said what’s up or heyyy as you passed them. It wasn’t until around ten, though, when you saw the real life of the party waltzing into the room.

Of course he’s late to a party at his own house. He’s just too cool for that.

Harry would smirk and half wave at girls as he walked by them. He’d fist bump his “homies” and laugh ridiculous loud for no reason. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and attempt to avoid gazing at him at all costs. Even if you found him the most annoying man boy in the world, you couldn’t deny the fact that everything he did was unbelievably hot (when his mouth was closed).

He had this confidence that was cocky, but his charm would hide it. The way he would lick his lips in the middle of a conversation distracts you far more than it should. His hand around a red solo cup along with a solid silver ring on his middle finger looks so natural— why did you wish his hands were somewhere else, though?

On you, maybe?

Your wild thoughts are disrupted just by the man who’d caused them. Harry comes up behind you as you’re refilling a bowl with chips.

“You look like you’re having a great time, really,” Harry shouts with his iconic sarcasm that you just love oh, so much.

“The best!” Your own sarcasm pops out. You weren’t having the worst time, you’re just a bit bored.

“Why don’t you go and dance with me? I know you got some moves,” He gets closer to you and you can feel his breath on your ear. Your breathing hitches in your throat for a moment before responding.

“I’ll pass—” You barely got to finish your sentence when you felt a light tap on your opposite shoulder. Nate, the guy from that lecture class, was standing next to you. Your eyes grew wide in a panic.

“Hey, I just wanted to know if maybe you wanted to dance..?” He looks at you, before noticing Harry, and then has the same, wide eyes as you. “Um nevermind, sorry.”

“W-what…” Your shoulders drop in disappointment and confusion as he walks away. You didn’t want to chase him because maybe he found the actual person he was looking for. Plus, chasing isn’t attractive, right? You turn to your right, forgetting Harry’s presence. You look at him for a single second and see… something in his eyes. He plays it nonchalant like he didn’t do a single thing.

“What did you do? What did you say to him?!” You shouted over the loud voices and booming music.

“What? I did nothing. He looked at me and got scared,” He shrugs off defensively with raised eyebrows. Harry takes another sip of his drink, and your growing frustration got to you, so you slapped it out of his hand. There was maybe a drop in the cup, not much left. His eyebrows raised again, but he didn’t even flinch. He knows that he’s ticking you off. You stomp away up the stairs because you needed to cool off. You are acting immature right now, but goodness, he brings out the worst in you.

The party didn’t halt nor notice your little incident with Harry and you were grateful. Harry makes his way upstairs soon later, honestly concerned for you. He knows he upset you, but he doesn’t know that you also kind of upset him. He catches you right as you’re walking into the bathroom.

“Y/N—”

“What, Harry? What do you want?” You pull your arm away from him and eye him irritatingly. You were looking at him directly and could see him thinking. The cogs in his head were spinning and you were impatient.

“Were you really going to dance with that bloke?” Is the first thing that came out of his mouth.

God, he’s such an idiot.

“Oh my God, of course you came all the way up here just to tick me off more.” You pushed him by his chest, but he grabbed your wrists, stilling you. Your breath hitches again slightly, like it did earlier. You mentally refuse to let him affect you, so you brush it off. You look up at him as you both stand in the doorway of the bathroom. He quickly checks behind him before shoving you two into the tiny room.

“God, you make me so mad,” He says through clenched teeth. He pushes you against the counter and you forget how to breathe.

Lungs? What are those? Air? Oxygen? What…?

However, you get your senses back. A little bit, and shake your head.

“I make you mad? Are you joking? You’re the one that scares off the first guy that seemed genuine!”

“Pfft, that bloke just wants to get in your pants—”

“Oh what, and you don’t? God, you just think you’re so much better—” One of Harry’s hands releases your wrist and latches onto your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but you halt your rant and then you actually forget how to breathe. Harry holds both of your wrists with one hand while the other puts little to no pressure on your throat. Harry drifts even closer to you now.

“You never know when to stop talking, huh?” He taunts you while slightly nudging your head up. You instinctively roll your eyes because that’s just what he makes you do. Everything he says is just worth an eye roll. But he doesn’t like that. Every time he sees you roll your eyes, he just wants to… fuck. He doesn’t know. But he did know it got under his skin every time and he just wanted to make you shut up. He adds more pressure to your neck as a note that he doesn’t like that.

“You always roll your eyes at me. Am I really that annoying?” He teased, while rubbing your chin with his other hand. He runs over your bottom lip slowly enough so that he can see all of your bottom teeth. When he releases it, it bounces back and you bite it nervously.

“Yes,” You choke out, still being choked by him. You can feel your wit and smart-ass remarks getting to him by the amount of pressure under his fingertips. His head tilts closer toward your ear and you’re sure he can hear your racing heart.

“You just never learn do you?”

“What’s there to learn? You’re the world’s greatest dick—” He pushes your legs apart and lets go of your neck, with that, you naturally sit up straighter. Your heart beats intensely as you wait for him to do something since he likes to interrupt you so much.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to teach you then,” He kisses down your neck softly, teasingly so. The tender kisses contradicts the kinky act of choking, which still wasn’t enough for you. You wish you could just push him off of you and be fine, but you were pulled to him. Your body yearned him the second that he touched you. You wanted more, but you hated begging. But you had a feeling he loved it. Right above your collarbone, he bites and sucks, making you gasp as you bite your lip. His tongue glides across your skin so effortlessly and his teeth sink on one of your pressure points and you nearly moan out. You can feel the beat of the music from downstairs throughout the whole bathroom. Suddenly, he releases himself completely from you and rests his hands beside you on the counter. You thought he was going to leave you high and dry, so you shouted.

“You’re such a fucking tease! God, I was right, you are a dick,” A fire was burning inside of you both that was fueled by frustration and lust. You were ready to get up and leave, but you didn’t want to. He doesn’t even think twice before smashing his lips onto yours and locking the door to the bathroom while doing so.

The kiss was not pretty; your teeth were clashing and your lips were squished. Your lip gloss was all over him now and his tongue gladly roamed your mouth. He hummed against you, loving your taste. You smelt of orange juice and vodka, while Harry smelled like minty beer. A shock struck between your lips, which ignited something in you. Your hands rested on the baby hairs on the back of his neck, which you used to pull him closer to you. He lifted you onto the counter, temporarily breaking you two apart.

You both discard your shirts, throwing them behind him. His chiseled torso shocked you every time you saw it. You always tried to act like it didn’t affect you, but he was a walking turn-on. His tan skin was littered in creative tattoos, and you instantly rubbed on his angel wings. He steps closer to you, moving his hips toward you.

“I like these, but they don’t fit you. You’re more of a devil type,” You sass, looking at him with a sarcastic smile and a lip bite. Harry reaches behind you while giving you a quick are you sure? look before proceeding to unclip your bra first try.

“Don’t get so cocky, we all know who’s in control here,” He smiles sadistically at you, and your little smile fades. You clench your thighs together, but he pulls them apart again. His hands are warm and rough on your legs. He runs them up and down, until he’s just rubbing the insides.

“Harry, we don’t have all night! If you’re going to fuck me, just do it!” You whisper-yelled. You didn’t want to beg, but God, were you getting desperate. This is the nearest you’ll get to begging. Especially for him.

“Aw, is the princess getting impatient?” He mocks, thumbs edging towards your aching cunt. You despised these thick jean shorts you were wearing right now because every time you moved at all, you would feel a light friction on your clit. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off, so you needed Harry to just rip them from you already. Maybe it was your turn to tick him off…

“I bet Nate would give it to me. He’s probably good, too. Oh, can you imagine how big he probably is?” That caused Harry to make an animalistic sound that nearly shredded the rest of your clothes right there. Before you knew it, your shorts were gone and your underwear was being stuffed into your mouth.

“Not much of a talker now, yeah?” Harry smirks. You could taste your own arousal, which turned you on even more. He grabs your wrists in one hand, stopping you from touching anything.

“You’re so infuriating. Talking about other men while I have you spread open for me. I can see you dripping all over the counter,” He rubs you achingly slow, right on your throbbing clit. He increases his rhythm, giving you more pleasure. But you needed more. “tell me it’s for me.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he has a praise kink. That makes his mountain size ego make sense. He stops rubbing you and you nearly whine as he removes the underwear from your mouth, dropping it beside you. You’re so desperate and so frustratingly needy, you nearly want to beg.

“And if I don't?” You breathe out, staring at him right in the eyes. His eyes are strong and you almost back down. He puts his free hand on your breast, pinching and twisting the bud. You arch slightly into his touch.

“Then it’s going to be a long night, isn’t it, princess?” You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek. His hands still hold your wrists as he drifts back down to your clit. Harry rubs you quickly, waiting for your response.

“Tell me Y/N. Who made you this wet?” Harry can hear your juices spreading around as he rubs you. When you don’t immediately answer, he flicks you and you jump. You bite your lip, adding a few seconds before you give in. The need to come continues to increase as you withhold your pleas “speak, or I’ll stop.”

“You!” You couldn’t help it— you gave into him. The rough pads of his fingers and his irritatingly attractive words were making you crazy. If he stopped, your body would never forgive you. Before your eyes tightly close, you see Harry arrogantly smirk.

“That’s it, baby. Say my name. Go on,” Harry inserts rapid fingers in you, curling them oh, so good. Your arousal was slushing in and out quickly, along with his fingers. He edged you enough and you were about to come fast.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Harry!” You whine out his name as you reach your peak. Seconds before you release, his fingers are removed from inside of you. Your climax dangles in your stomach, forgotten.

Your irritation from earlier becomes even more vehement now. You were about to slam Harry’s head into the door, before his loud mouth speaks.

“You can come around my cock,” He basically growls as he vastly unbuckles his belt and unzips his strangled jeans. He slides down his boxers and you can’t deny that he’s pretty big. You feel more arousal leak out of you just looking at it. You nearly roll your eyes again when you see him pull out a condom from his jeans.

Of course, he brought condoms to a party. Why are you letting him fuck you again?

Because he’s just so… ugh. You don’t know the word.

Feeling dazed, you feel Harry rubs himself on you for a few seconds before slamming into you without warning. You try your best not to scream out, for the sake of the party, but also for Harry’s ego. You gasp loudly, as he goes in and out roughly.

He cannot know how much you actually enjoy this.

Your hands wrap around his neck naturally, scratching crescent moons on the sides. His moves are fast, yet deep, making you clench around him hard. When Harry finally moans in your ear, you don’t stop the strong reciprocating one that leaves yours.

That must mean he likes it too.

Harry growls, attaching his lips to your neck, probably to quiet his sounds. When you begin to reach your climax again, your legs get tense. You bite your lip to near bleeding so you don’t alert the whole party.

“God, Harry,” You groan out, clutching his hair with your right hand. You can tell you’re both close because everything is messier; you’re about to fall off of the counter, Harry’s strokes are sloppier, and your grip is everywhere.

You’ve both been dying for release.

“Come, Y/N,” He wasn’t asking; it was a command. Somehow, his assertiveness brought you over the edge and you finally came. Hard. The sensation was such a relief, you loudly moaned without caring who could hear. Harry groans by your ear as he releases into the condom, moving slowly in and out. You rub your clit to calm your body and breathing. You hadn’t realized how deprived you were until the weight of your sexual rut was gone.

Once you come to realize what actually happened, you blink and instantly grab your underwear. Harry had already been pulling up his jeans by then.

“You,” You grit out. Your breathing wasn’t completely calm and was definitely wavering as you zipped up your jean shorts. “are not allowed to tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Me? Why would I ever do such a thing?” He says innocently, followed by a devilish smirk. His shirt falls over his head and covers his sculpted abs.

You hate to think about it, but those abs will be missed.

“I’m serious. If anyone, especially one of our friends finds out, I will personally kill you. I will torture you until you can’t take it anymore,” You successfully clip your bra and arrange your shirt correctly. You look in the semi-foggy mirror as you attempt to tame your hair.

“Sounds kinky. But don’t worry, princess, no one’s gonna find out how I made you beg for me,” Harry stands behind you, looking at you through the mirror. Your eyes widen at his words and you turn around.

“Harry!”

“Yeah, it sounded just like that—”

“I fucking swear to—” A knock interrupted both of you. Sudden panic rushed through your body as your mouth became dry. Harry eyed you with a finger over his lips. You stay silent, listening to him, as the stranger soon walks away. You release a breath you didn’t know you were restricting.

“See? That is why we can’t do this. That was too close. I’m leaving and we’re never speaking of this again,” You slowly open the door and peek near the area. When you fully exit, you try to act as relaxed as possible.

You feel flushed and flustered, but that can easily be mistaken for alcohol or dancing. You walk down the stairs and into the kitchen because you need another drink. Maybe seven because you’re feeling a bit too sober after what just happened.

Rina suddenly comes behind you, startlingly you.

“Where have you been, girl?! I haven’t seen you all night!” She shouts over the booming speakers and loud people. Your gut wrenches suddenly in guilt, feeling the weight of being a liar.

“I was dancing with Nate,” The lie flew through your mouth and you bit your cheek. Your clench your solo cup in your hand. He probably left a while ago because of what happened earlier. You wouldn’t blame him.

You’ve never been a good liar. Clearly. But maybe it was easier to lie to a drunk person…

“Ooo, I’m so drunk right now! Did you know that Raquel heard two people fucking in the bathroom? She thinks it was Harry, and I wouldn’t be surprised. Oh, this is my song!” The song changes to Rina’s favorite dance track, which causes her to slip away back into the crowd of dancing drunks. As she drifts away, that gut wrenching feeling becomes more intense when you take in what she just said.

Raquel heard you in the bathroom. Oh fuck. She doesn’t know it was you and Harry though. Hopefully, she is extremely drunk too and doesn’t remember a lick of tonight.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but that sex with Harry was really good. It wasn’t like the typical sex you have. It wasn’t intimate and loving, or soft and sweet. It was rough and fast, and you really liked it. You’re kind of left in a state of shock because you know it won’t ever happen again.

He had control over you. And even though it was Harry out of all people, there was some type of passion beneath it all that just aroused you so much. Stuff like that is what gets people addicted. And you couldn’t be… addicted to Harry.

You knew everything was now messed up, yet a part of you was satisfied and relieved.

It was one time. You can’t be addicted.

—

YAY! thanks for reading 🤭

#shawnxstyles #addicted in the afterglow #harry styles #harry styles the album #harry styles fine line #harries #fine line #watermelon sugar #fine line era #hslot #hslot2 #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles story #fan fiction #afterglow #tpwk #treat people with kindness

[bullet-prooflove]

What about this one for Dean Archer?

“Inside, I'm a mess, but I don't let it show”

Tagging: @kmc1989

You know that Dean is struggling, you can see it in his features. The pinched brow, the clenched jaw, the way he stares at the screen of his tablet, looking but not really seeing.

It had been a shock for you both when that kid had turned up on your table in the morgue, his features distorted from the beating he’d taken a few days before he’d overdosed on heroin.

He was the right height, the right build, he’d even had the same curls as Sean. He’d even had his I.D.

“It’s not him.” Dean had told you, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied the underside of the foot. “Sean has a scar from where he stepped on a broken beer bottle when he was high. It’s not him.”

“OK.” You’d said quietly as you’d pulled the sheet back over the body. “Dean…”

“It’s not my son.” He snaps at you, gesturing towards the dead kid on your slab. “You bring me down here to look at some poor kid’s corpse…”

“He had Sean’s I.D.” You remind him, with a hand on your hip. “That’s why I brought you down here.”

“It is not my son.” He shouts, his voice bouncing off the walls of the morgue as you stand before him. “It’s not Sean, it’s not…”

“Dean…” You reach for him but he jerks away.

“I need to get back to work.” He tells you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his lab coat before he disappears into the elevator.

That had been three hours ago and you can tell he’s still reeling from the shock, from the possibility it could have been Sean. He doesn’t say anything when you head towards the Doctor’s Lounge on a break, he won’t even look at you. You already know it’s going to be one of those kind of nights which is why you pick up the second shift down in the morgue helping with the back log. You’d rather be here keeping occupied than at home in the silence, waiting for your husband to show up.

It’s three in the morning when he finds you. You’re in your office, typing up your notes from the thirty three year old woman you’d just had on your table when you hear the door open and close. You know it’s Dean by the sound of his footsteps, there’s a certain pace, a certain gait. He clears his throat as he sets a candy bar down on the desk between the two of you, using his fingertips to push it towards you.

It's a Reeses, your favourite.

It’s also an olive branch, his way of apologising for his outburst, for shutting you out.

You tilt your head towards him and he swallows hard because Dean firmly believes that one of these days you’ll realise that you’re too good for him, that you deserve better than his baggage.

You reach for the chocolate and a relief blossoms inside his chest because this is your way of telling him he’s forgiven, that he hasn’t destroyed this marriage, the same way he did the last one.

“I could do with a hug right about now.” He finds himself saying, his eyes stinging just a little.

He finds it hard to ask for affection, to want it. You get that and you understand how much this concession costs him. He’s told himself for so long he doesn’t need anyone that he almost believes it. It goes against his nature to ask for help, to vocalise his needs but he’s trying to change that.

When your arms wrap around him, the tension begins to ebb from his body. He can feel his muscles relaxing, the stress of the day starting to erode. There’s a comfort in you he’s never had with any other woman. You’re a safe haven, a port in the midst of a storm and he treasures that more than he could ever admit.

“I thought it was him.” He says finally as you hold him close. “For a minute, I really thought that it was him.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#dean archer #dean archer x reader #chicago med

[morgysfics]

Kenneth Sean Carson x afab reader

Better than ice cream: part II (Part I)

Smut one shot(4.5k words)

After teaching Ken some of the ways humans have fun, eager to learn more, Ken suggests you both go back to the human world to learn more. And boy, did he learn more.

Standing at the edge of Barbieland, you and Ken watched as the horizon drifted out, fading into what you knew to be the real world. You were surely going to make sure Ken experiences the most fun side of it this time.

"Are you ready?" you asked, looking up at the blonde, handsome doll to your left.

"More than ever," he smiled down at you, his brows raising slightly.

When you both went onwards excitingly, you and Ken made your way towards reality – a journey you thought was tedious on the way in but regardless, you knew it was going to be worth it in the end.

As the two of you trip outside of Barbieland to the real world, you are finally met with the golden sunset of Santa Monica beach, Los Angeles. You weren't exactly sure how time worked between this place and the other but you weren't worried about it – maybe even then you thought this was a perfect time than ever to–

"Y/N," Ken's voice perked up as he walked beside you, "how'd I know if I'd feel any different than the last time I was here?"

Eager, you thought.

You furrowed your brows softly as you glanced up at him. "What'd you mean?" you asked, confused.

"If I have the right stuff," he replied, gesturing to himself.

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you glanced him up and down for a moment, your wandering eyes staying on the centre of his shorts for a moment before looking away again. "Do… you feel anything different?"

"I'll check–" Ken then pulled on the hem of his shorts before you hurriedly reached out, pushing your hands against his to stop him.

"N– Not here…!" you exclaimed in a lower volume.

Ken's blue eyes then danced around your small hands against his before his attention fell to your face, just for a moment, you almost had that same bashful expression from before. "Why?" he asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.

"Well, because…"

The doll now almost man chuckled before pulling your hand away, his full attention still on you. "Well, you looked so happy before… That I was touchin' you. D'you feel like that now? Or should we–"

"Ken–"

"Woah." Ken then felt his body almost freeze up as he took a step back – feeling something between his legs twitch with excitement. He felt his breath hitch in his chest for a moment as his eyes on his crotch drifted to your face. "I felt… somethin'."

You felt your face flush a pink shade, the thought of his cock doing to you what he fingers were earlier that day made your head spin. "I have somewhere we can stay for the night." You felt your blush reach your ears at the thought. "Try not to think too much about… anything until then."

"Did that make you feel somethin' too, Y/N?" he asked, smirking.

You, with haste, took his hand in yours and pulled him into the streets as the two of you made your way to the hotel that you were staying at last week. You never expected to get into this rumoured Barbieland so quickly – though, you didn't complain at all.

     As you arrive at the hotel, both you and Ken find yourselves in the elevator – soft music being played over the speaker, passing with each level that you moved up. 

"Y/N…"

"What's up, Ken…?" you asked, your hand still in his. Being alone with him in this confined space was making your thoughts run wild with fantasy, but right now, you wanted to just get to your room. Patience was a virtue.

"This thing… It's, like…"

When you glanced down at him, you could barely make out Ken's new toy between his legs and, fuck, did it look big. You swear you felt your cunt flutter between your thighs, your pretty folds already wet from remembering how well he fingered you from before. "Mhm… Y– Yeah, okay… Let's take care of it in the room."

When the elevator came to a halt, you hurried out with your doll down the hall and towards the room at the end. With a swipe of a card across the handle, you and Ken made your way inside and closed the door behind you.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom for a moment, okay? I'll be back in a minute," you smiled to him before your hand slipped from his, walking towards and into the tiled bathroom – the door shutting with a click sound.

"Fuck," was the first word that left your mouth. You leaned forward slightly as one of your hands grabbed at the sink, your eyes on your reflection in the mirror as you noticed how flushed you looked. "Ken…" You whimpered his name like you knew how bad you wanted him. Without a second thought, your hand slipped under your skirt as you grazed your clit over your already damp panties causing another whimper to leave your peach painted lips.

As your finger slipped over your clit a few times, your eyes caught your reflection in the mirror again, stopping when you thought you heard something in the bedroom outside.

You tried to steady your breathing before finally fixing your hair a little and opening the door – stepping into the bedroom once again.

Your brows raise slightly as you notice Ken on his phone, watching as his finger slowly flicked up the screen. You went to part your lips to speak but nothing came out, especially when your eyes fell to his crotch – you could see how hard his cock was underneath the fabric of his pants.

Your attention slowly glanced back to his face, your parted lips finally finding something to say. "Ken?"

"Y/N…" Ken's attention drew back to you, looking over to your obviously pinkish face. There was something different in his blue eyes – they didn't sparkle their same way they always have. No, they were…

filled with lust.

"So, I just read… n' watched a whole lot on what we're gonna do," Ken explained, his voice lowered ever so slightly which made your toes curl – watching as he kept his attention on you.

"O– Oh…?"

"Mhm," he hummed. "Come here." He then parted his thighs a little more than they already were, his eyes not leaving yours. "Sit."

Your shoulders raised a little, feeling your cunt get wetter with his voice alone – it was so low and sultry now, that by itself was making you feel dizzy. "O– Okay…" you barely whispered before finally walking over, looking down at him as his attention drew from your face to your mini skirt hanging so freely over your thighs.

When he glanced back up at you, you couldn't help but look away as you finally sat on his thigh, facing him now. "What… did you learn, Ken?" you asked coyly.

"Oh, a lotta stuff, babydoll," he replied, his tone lowering on the pet name. "Like why you got so wet before." His tongue curled in his mouth a little as his hands fell to your waist – those hands of his making you feel a little smaller in his grip. "All for me, huh?"

You felt yourself grind down a little on his thigh, "Ken…" you muttered his name like you felt embarrassed all of a sudden.

Ken then bounced his leg a little, watching as your face contorted at the sudden friction – oh, how it brought a smile to his own. "I can feel how wet you are right now. You've soaked through your panties, Y/N…"

You whined a little, your hips squirming a little on his thigh. "Ken, h– how do you feel…?" you managed to ask, though your mind was already fogging up.

"I'm sure you already know the answer," he glanced down at himself – his cock hard under his pants. "Have you been feelin' this way the whole time? With me?"

"I…" you muttered softly, your hands on his thigh as you kept yourself steady on him. "Um…"

"I've only had this for a day and I'm, fuck, achin' to touch you," he spoke through grit teeth as he looked down at your body. "This cock is makin' me wanna do dirty things to you. Your cute non-barbie parts all wet for me – shit, Y/N…" 

Ken's hands gripped you a little tighter, pushing you further down onto his thigh. "So, why don't we put it to good use, hm?"

Suddenly, he pulled you closer to him, guiding you along his thigh as he brought his lips close to yours, his blue eyes flickering from your parted lips to your eyes. "May I?" he asked.

"Y– Yes," you barely breathed that word to him before he finally pressed his lips against yours, a slow passionate kiss fell between the two of you – sensual and slow.

The way Ken moved his lips against yours only made you grind your pussy and clit against him more, a small mewl escaping your lips when his hands fell to your hips now – he was surely enjoying the movements you were making with them.

"My tiny baby," he whispered into the kiss. "I could hold you this close all night."

Your hands palmed against his chest, gripped his shirt slightly as you pulled away from the kiss for a moment, "Ken, I…"

"What is it?" he asked, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

You hummed a little before pulling yourself away from him, standing in front of him now between his legs. "I want you to feel it too…"

Ken's eyes on you made you feel so shy still somehow. He looked like a hungry wolf. You'd never seen him look so… dirty. "What'd you have in mind, Y/N?"

Instead of using your words, you simply pulled your cropped shirt from your body and dropped it onto the floor next to you. You broke eye contact with him when you finally lowered yourself to the floor between Ken's legs, your attention on his cock just begging to be freed.

"Oh," Ken chuckled slightly. "Fuck, baby," he groaned a little as he reached out to you, his finger going under your chin to pull your face up to him. "You wanna do this?"

He's so cute.

You nod to him before reaching out and pulling on the black belt of his jeans. Once the leather was pulled away, you popped the button and tugged on the zipper. With Ken's help, you shimmed his jeans down just enough that your eyes widened and you stared in awe when his new toy stood up big in front of your face.

If you hadn't known it was attached to Ken, you'd think it was a perfectly crafted dildo – the tip had a glistening bead of pre cum that could've been mistaken for icing on a cake. Holy shit, he was extraordinary.

"Ken…" you mumbled softly as you moved even closer to him.

Ken's brows raised as he looked down at himself; even he seemed surprised at how it looked. Watching as it twitched a little, a heavy groan purred from the man's lips as he reached out and wrapped his hand around the base. "Y/N…" he whispered, looking from his cock to your face, your attention still on his hardened length in his hand. "This what you wanted?"

Your eyes drifted up to meet his for a moment before nodding. "It's so big," you muttered.

You caught his forearms flexing a little, your attention being brought back to his cock as you watched his hand tighten around himself.

"I want your pretty mouth on me, baby," he almost growled as he said that.

Your hips squirmed at the sound of his voice, feeling yourself only get wetter as you bring your hands to his dick – wrapping your fingers around the base as Ken pulled his own away, his hands gripping at the sheets below him.

That precum on the tip of his cock only seemed to seep a little more which made your mind run crazy at the thought of him cumming inside you. Mouth or elsewhere. You finally parted your lips and lapped your tongue across the precum before running your slick tongue down the underside of his cock – a delicious sounding moan echoed from Ken's lips, his hands only gripping at the bedsheets tighter. "Fuuuck."

Your eyes glanced up at him as you continued to work your tongue across his dick, your fingers still laying across the base. He had his head tilted back, his blonde locks falling gracefully made him look heavenly. "Like this, Ken?" you asked before your lips moved to the tip of his cock, pushing your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuckfuckfuck, Y/N… Just like that," he groaned, thrusting his cock up into your mouth a little. "S– So good…"

You smiled a little with your mouth over his dick; his moans were a fucking blessing to your ears. You hummed your own moan on his cock, sending a vibration through Ken's body.

"Shit– Ngh…" Beautiful moans escaped Ken's lips before he clenched his jaw, flexing each muscle in his body as you kept moving your wet mouth over his shaft – your eyes flickering up to him every now and then to catch that blissful expression across his handsome face.

"S– Somethin'–," Ken groaned again, his brows curled up as he looked down at you now, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Something's coming– I'm gonna–"

With your mouth over his hard cock, you pulled off just enough to let your slurred voice out, "In my mouth. Cum in my mouth, Ken," you whimpered before curling your tongue around his shaft once again, making sure to get every inch of it soaked.

"Y/N…!" he called out, his jaw clenching as his hand reached out, palming the top of your head. "I'm…!"

Your eyes fluttered open slightly to watch as Ken finally came – your mouth left open just enough that his new doll juices coated your tongue that was lapped out of your mouth. It was so hot – your eyelids flickered with delight for a moment before you finally comprehended the new taste in your mouth as you sucked your tongue back in; it was sweet.

Ken grunted a few times as he looked down at you, watching as you licked up the cum that was running down his still hardened cock. "Y/N…"

"You taste so good," you muttered softly to him, your eyes glancing up at him; a small, almost ditzy smile clouding your face.

"Not done," he mumbled through a low voice at you.

Before you could ask what he meant, he reached out to you and picked you up with ease – a whimper mewling from your lips as you felt the sudden pressure of the bed against your back.

As you opened your eyes, you were met with Ken's blue ones glancing back down at you, though that almost sick, sultry look in them didn't waver. He looked absolutely mesmerising.

With your lips parting to speak, any words were instantly replaced with a whine as you felt Ken's hands wrap around your tits, his thumbs gliding over the cute buds – his eyes flickering to your nipples as they bounced a little between his strokes.

"Ken—!" you whimpered, your body squirming a little under him as he continued playing with your nipples. "That's…!"

"So, you like this too," Ken chuckled, watching your reactions in delight. "I'll remember that."

"Ah~!" you moaned before biting your bottom lip, muffling your small whimpers a little.

You feel Ken's hands glide from your tits to your waist to your squirming hips, his fingers hooking under the hem of your pretty black skirt before his eyes fall to your once more. "Y/N," he spoke in a hush tone. "Tell me I can give you the same pleasure."

Your eyes glanced down at Ken who was between your thighs down, his pretty diamond eyes looking up at you – a look in them that said 'I want you.' With that look alone, you nodded to him, a hum vibrating behind your closed lips before you parted them, "Please…" you begged.

Ken's lips creased to a small smile before his hands palmed the inside of your thighs – a hum vibrating behind your lips as you felt his thumb part the folds of your pussy. His blue eyes narrowing at the sight, the way your cunt glistened from how wet he made you only made him chuckle a little.

"How pretty you look here, Y/N," he murmured softly. "So wet."

Ken then ran the pad of his thumb along your clit down to the end of your cunt, a slick sound echoing in both of your ears which only made Ken's cock twitch in delight – a moan escaping from your lipstick painted lips at his touch.

"Ken~..." You squirmed your hips in his hands, wanting him, aching for him to keep touching you. "Please… More…"

"Cute," he hummed, a small smirk on his lips before his eyes flickered up from your cunt to your face, watching your expressions contort as he brought his thumb to your clit again, only for now putting pressure onto it. "You'll get more, my little baby."

You whined under his touch, your cunt fluttering when he pressured his thumb into your sensitive bud. "Aah…! Fuck…!"

"You like that," he muttered before finally moving his thumb over your little clit, his middle finger gliding between your slick folds – a sick side of him making sure not to slip inside of you just yet. "Tell me again, sweetheart," he spoke up again, his voice so low and to a whisper. "Tell me how much you want this."

Your toes curled and your pretty hands gripped the bedsheets as you closed your eyes, your mouth hanging open. "Ken…!" you almost squealed at how well he was teasing you. "Want you…! Please please please…" 

"Like this?" he cooed before slipping a finger inside you, just half way – enough to make you want to beg for more.

"Mhm! Yesyes! Ken, please, more…!" You felt yourself buck your hips down onto his digit – biting your lips as you felt him push further inside you, going until he reached the knuckle.

"So fucking wet in here, princess," he whispered, curling his middle digit inside your cunt which only made you whine and curl your hips around him more. His attention fell from your blissful expression to his finger knuckle deep inside of you.

As he began to slowly pull and push his digit in and out of your pussy, his tongue lapped from his mouth before kittenlicking your clit – a gasp escaping from your mouth at the sensation; your reaction only making him work harder on you. His finger pumping inside you a little quicker as he brought your clit between his lips, sucking on it before lapping his tongue against your red bud again.

"Aah~ Ken, that feels so…!" you squirmed under his touch, his tongue and fingers feeling like absolute sky–high heaven. You'd never had guessed he figured it all out so quickly. "C– Gonna cum, gonna cum…!"

You jolted your hips into him, your eyes fluttering as your cunt twinned your expression, finally cumming around Ken's fingers as you heard him chuckle – a pop sound echoing in your ears as Ken pulled away from you for a moment, taking in your face, how heavy you were breathing; just as he did back in Barbieland. "I could watch you get all heated every moment we're together, Y/N… Fuck."

Your vision was a little blurry but you slowly glanced to Ken, watching him as he crawled on top of you now, his face inches away from yours – a beautiful smile painted across it like an expensive piece of art. "Let's keep goin' a little longer, okay?"

"Mhm…" you managed to hum a yes to him, slowly nodding your head before you suddenly felt Ken's hot tip slide against your seeping cunt – the precum from his throbbing cock made you already see stars in your eyes. "Ken…! Ngh!" You whined, thrusting yourself up at him, his tip gliding against your swollen clit which only made you whimper and writhe under him.

"Those pretty little sounds," Ken mumbled softly, his hands reaching to your mouth as thumb ran across your bottom lip. "I'm glad they're 'cause of me."

You could only nod to him, small whines still escaping your lips as he palmed his cock; circling his tip against your clit. "It is 'cause of me, right, Y/N?"

"Y— Yes, Ken!" you replied, raising your voice a little higher than before. "You've m– made a mess of me…!"

He smiled down at you, admiring every part of your expressions before he slipped his cock down your slit, sliding the tip into your sopping pussy – your lips were left apart, a breathy moan leaving them as Ken pushed inch by inch inside of you. It was just as you imagined… Fucking perfect. "B– Big, Ken…" you whimpered softly.

"I know, baby," he replied, his voice ever so soft and reassuring. "Does it hurt?"

You watched his eyes grow concerned as he kept his gaze on you – you shook your head no before letting out another sigh of pleasure. "N– No…" you muttered. "Feels so… good…"

"Good," Ken smiled before he finally bottomed out into you, the top set of his teeth grazing his bottom lip as he felt your pussy clench down on his throbbing cock. "God, princess, you feel… so so magnificent."

You would've laughed at his choice of words if your mind wasn't so clouded with how well his toy was stretching your cunt out, your head tilted back into the pillow.

"I'm gonna move," Ken spoke, like he making sure you were fine with it before he finally thrusted his hips back and forth in short and slow strokes, his blue eyes closing as he felt the friction glide against the skin of his cock. It was definitely euphoric for him.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck," Ken moaned as he began to move with longer strokes now, his eyes on his cock disappearing into your cunt with every thrust – it was like magic to him. "Can't stop—" he groaned, a heavy moan following after.

He turned his attention back to you instantly when he felt one of your hands go to his back and the other to the top of his head – his blonde hair messes so pretty between your fingers. When his blue eyes met yours, you offered him a smile, though your eyes were dazed a little, like you were still trying to make Ken feel wanted. This was his true first time, after all.

"I don't want you to stop, Ken," you barely breathed that sentence out to him before a moan left your lips again, his thrusting continued even with his attention on your face again.

"Oh, my sweet baby," he mewled, smiling down at you. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

He moved his hands from your hips to your face, his palms resting against your cheeks as you both fell into each other's gaze. "Can I keep you?" he asked in a whisper. You could tell how genuine he wanted to ask that – like he was almost afraid this whole time to even suggest it but in this moment, it was more him asking…

"I'll stay," you whispered back to him before yours and Ken's lips found each other again, kissing so passionately as Ken moved his hips a little faster into you now, you could feel his cock twitch and throb inside of you which only made you moan every now and then into your now turned messy make out session. 

"Ken—" you moaned his name as he moved even faster now – the wet noises with each thrust was echoing in the hotel room; God, how dirty, you thought.

"So pretty," Ken groaned, his hands falling to your waist, thrusting your body down onto his cock as he kept up his rhythm – you could feel his cock slowly getting bigger inside you with each push now. "So so so pretty."

"Ken! Pl– Please…!" you called out, your hands gripping onto his back, your painted nails almost clawing at his tanned skin. "Harder, d– don't stop…!"

Ken immediately began pumping harder inside you, one of his hands gliding down your stomach now as his thumb ran circles on your already swollen and sensitive little clit. "Like that, princess?" he cooed with a smirk. "Yeah?"

"Aah~!" An elated girlish moan fell from your lips as Ken only pushed further, you swear you were on cloud nine from how well he was treating your cunt. "Yes! Yesyesyes—" 

"Fuck–," Ken hissed before pressing his lips against yours again, pulling away before his lips found your neck – drawing kissing alone the line of your throat to your shoulder.

You quickly closed your eyes as your head fell into the pillow, feeling like you were going to cum again any time soon. "Ken– I– I'm gonna c– cum…!"

Ken left out a few heavy breaths in your ear before his deep voice spoke up, "Mm…" he hummed before his fingers flexed on your waist. "M– Me too…"

With a few more thrusts, there was so denying how hot his cock felt inside you now, like he'd been holding it back so he could be with you that much longer.

"Together…" you moaned back to him.

"Yeah, baby doll. Together."

Ken finally pulled out once more before pushing deep inside of your wet cunt, feeling your walls flutter and clench around him, you both finally gave out and climaxed together at the same time. Both yours and Ken's eyes widened at the sudden sensation – his hot sticky cum painting the inside of you only caused you to cry out in ecstasy, a heavy growl of a moan leaving Ken's at the same time.

You twitched your hips up into Ken's cock, feeling his length throb that little more inside you before you felt him soften slightly inside you – though he didn't pull out – not at all.

"Y/N…" Ken mumbled ever so softly, his eyes not leaving yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

"W– What is it, Ken…?" you asked, feeling his hands grip your waist that little bit tighter before you watched him smile down at you.

"Way better than ice cream."

#mfic.txt #genre: smut #media: barbie #chara: kenneth sean carson #ryan gosling!ken #type: x reader

[adawngswife]

dating sean diaz hcs pt. 1

- the kind to get mad when he’s embarrassed. like, for example, if he were trying to show off some skate trick he learned and kept messing up to you, he would lwk start tweaking and hit his board on the floor rlly hard 😭 but he wld realize how even more embarrassing that was and apologize awkwardly

- he does the same whenever u guys play games together and daniel ends up joining. daniel is scarily good at bedwars and it makes sean rage lowkey 😭

- daniel and u end up bursting out in laughing fits whenever u guys spawn kill him n sean always goes “what? what’s so funny?!” but then ends up laughing with u guys

- if ure both poc, i imagine u guys exchange the corny dramatic shows from ur home countries w/ each other

- sean shows u the corny telenovelas his dad watches sometimes and u guys always make fun of the unnecessary dramatic scenes

- about twenty minutes in sean always stares at the screen not blinking w/ his jaw hung open though 😭

- both of u end up like that and once the credits roll u say “that sucked ass” in unison

- sean loves small, barely noticeable skin ship in front of other people

- hand holding under the table, arm draped on ur shoulder, quick embraces, and honestly just sitting side by side together is enough for him

- he gets embarrassed if its anything more than that but he has a stupid grin he has to hide on his face after

- if u guys ride the school bus together i can imagine sean sitting behind u and always stands halfway up to look at whatever ure doing 😭 kind of an ick but u cant see his bottom half so its okay <3

- sean hates house parties but somehow always gets dragged one way or another (usually bc of lyla)

- his only requirement is that if he goes, u have to come with him

- back to the shy on physical contact thing, he DOES NOTTT play when hes jealous

- hes not some macho alpha dude but hell def tell guys to back off once they get too close

- grips ur hand extra tight the rest of the night after 😭

- sean always ends up dragging u into some room w no one in it

- both of yall r nosy n lowkey be looking through the party hosts stuff

- pro mma play fighters

- sean obviously has training w daniel and it ends up integrating into when u guys fight

- u guys try to be a cute couple and have little pillow fights but both of u guys end up taking that shit sooo serious

- u guys start dragging each other on the floor and body slamming each other 😭😭

- daniel thinks its sooo funny and tries to referee

- u guys ignore him n go crazy stupid 😭😭

- “STOP!! STOP!! TIMEOUT” is a recurring phrase in ur relationship just bc u guys always escalate off each other

- both of yall ugly laugh sm u have to stop before u puke n then a couple seconds later u burst out laughing again

tbh i have no clue if ive read some of these and subconsciously wrote them down here so sorry if this is similar to a lot of others ones 🙏

#lis2 #lis2 sean #life is strange #sean diaz x reader #sean diaz #sean diaz hcs #life is strange 2

[cassi3cas]

Chapter Two

Sean Diaz x GN Reader

-

Brief summary

Y/n was just kicked out of their home, with no family or friends to turn to. Sean Diaz and his family take them in one night during a storm, and quickly decide it’s best for them to stay till they found somewhere to go. But what happens when reader and Sean grow closer than ever expected? Will they head to Mexico together? Or for the worse, never see each other again.

-

Karen pulled the thermometer away from me, her concerned expression deepening as she read the numbers. "Oh honey, you're burning up," she said softly, her voice filled with worry. The thermometer displayed a fever of a hundred and two degrees. Just great, I thought to myself, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration wash over me. The throbbing ache in my head intensified, as if mocking my already fucked situation. I felt like I had hit a dead end, trapped between the grip of illness and homelessness.

I let out a groan and rubbed my trembling hands in some sort of attempt to ease myself. How was I supposed to figure out a way to avoid living on the streets when I felt like I was on the absolute verge of death?

As I tried to gather my thoughts, Sean's voice echoed from the kitchen, breaking through the haze of my pain. "The offer still stands," he called out. Since I had woken up, I hadn't seen Daniel around, assuming he was probably outside.

Karen turned towards Sean curiously. "What offer?" she inquired. I couldn't help but wonder if she would be as willing to help as Sean had suggested, especially considering her rather monotone voice, but it seemed to always be like that.

The room fell silent for a moment, tension hanging in the air. I anxiously awaited Sean's response, unsure of what to expect.

“I told them you could drive them if their friend wasn’t too far.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” She turned to me with a reassuring smile, but I was starting to feel sick, and not just because I actually was. “Just give me the address and we can leave in maybe an hour?”

I was at a loss for words. I couldn’t imagine the clueless look on my face. I scrambled for another lie to get me out of this, but thoughts remained silent.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Karen said, like she knew it and wasn’t even asking.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, I mustered up the courage to confess. "I'm so sorry for lying," I whispered. Determined to make things right, I promised Karen that I would leave today as I had previously promised. Ignoring the searing pain coursing through my body, I summoned all my strength to throw off the suffocating blankets and slowly rise from the couch.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, but unless you have nowhere to go for now, I can’t just let you leave.” She said confidently. Her words threw me through a loop. Was she offering what I think she was?

I opened my mouth to protest, but Karen sat down across from me and it shut me up so quickly. Guess it was the mom effect.

“Unless you're uncomfortable here, we’re offering for you to stay until you figure things out.” A sincereness shimmered in her eyes, a small smile evident in her not so animated features.

“Are…are you sure?” I wasn’t gonna mention it out loud, but their living space was so, so small. It didn’t bother me at all, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was just cramping up this sweet family’s home.

“I don’t offer things for fun.” She assured.

I looked at Sean, in which his expression practically urged me to fully accept.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I just don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, you rest up and just let me know if you need anything.”

For most of the day I slept, and if I wasn’t, I still resided my time on the couch, lying on my side in hopes I’d sleep again. I was in too much pain to really do anything else. Karen tried feeding me, but my throat was too sore to get anything down without grimacing in pain. So for most of the time, I just drank warm broth as a substitute for nutrients. Along with that, Karen was also giving me medicine and pain reliever.

Still though, this all felt so wrong. I was being taken care of by people who owed me absolutely nothing, yet it was being handed to me on a silver platter. The word brat screamed at me echoes in my head, my heart stutters. My father was right for calling me one.

The next day, I woke up around one in the afternoon. I didn’t feel nearly as sick anymore, but the sleep heavy on my limbs didn’t feel that great.

“Look who finally woke up,” I heard Sean’s voice and turned over to see him on the bed. There was a sketchbook in his lap as he had his back leaned against the wall of the R.V. “Thought you died on us.” He laughed innocently.

“God I thought I was gonna. Still don’t feel too good but I think my fever is gone."

“Well let’s see.” He stands up and heads to the bathroom, returning just as quickly as he left but now he has a thermometer and hands it to me.

I pull the thermometer out of my mouth, and much to my dismay, I still have a slight fever. "God, being sick is the worst."

"I know." He frowns with me and goes to return the thermometer back where it belongs.

In the few seconds that he's gone, the door flies open at a rapid speed. It startles me, but not nearly as much when I see Daniel standing far from the door. There was absolutely no way he opened it like that and had enough time, not unless it wasn't him opening the door, but no one else could be seen through the windows but him. And the wind? No way could it have unlatched a door on its own.

He's looking at me the way little kids do when they know they've done something they shouldn't have, but what did he even do just now?

Sean rushes to the commotion and seems to put two and two together quickly. "Damn it, Daniel! We didn't tell them yet, you can't just forget shit like this!"

At this point, Daniel is inside and shutting the door behind him. "What's the big deal?! Now they know!"

"Know what?" I interrupt. They were both insanely wrong if they thought I had the slightest idea of what was going on.

Sean's hands are in his face and his frustrated sigh echoes in the palms of his hands. "Daniel, go outside and bother somebody else."

The child rolls his eyes. "Pft, whatever!" And with that, it's just me and Sean now.

"Sean, what... What was that? I mean, did you see? The door opened by itself!"

"Yeah, I know." He says way too nonchalant, seating himself across from me. He drums his palms nervously against his thighs, seemingly searching for the right words. "Daniel... special. Do I know what it is? No, nobody does. He's the only one in my family as far as I know with his capabilities."

"Capabilities?" I press.

"Fuck, I don't know. He... he can't just move shit with his mind. I don't know how he does it, but one day," His words come to a sudden halt, and everything about his demeanor changes. He went from nervous to what could only be read as grieving whatever had happened on that day. "It just happened."

As I sit there, trying to absorb and make sense of his words, it all seems to elude me. I can't deny the truth of what he just revealed; I had witnessed what Daniel could do firsthand. It was just so much change in such a small amount of time, nothing feels real anymore.

Sean's piercing gaze bores into me, leaving me feeling exposed. I can sense the weight of his expectation as he asks, "Can I trust you to keep this a secret?"

I muster a smile, attempting to mask just how mind-boggling this was. "Tell what?" He smiles in return.

The following day, my fever finally subsides, bringing a sense of relief. Despite this, I still spend most of my time resting.

Later in the evening when I start to feel like myself again, Sean invites me to go on a walk with him and Daniel if I feel up for it. It would be nice to get some fresh air, and I always find myself enjoying me and Sean's small conversations, so I accept.

It's been ten minutes since we've been walking. Daniel skips ahead of both of us but is still in view, and every now and then, he complains about how slow we both are.

"Maybe you're just too fast!" Sean shouts back at him.

"No such thing!"

I giggle. "What does that even mean?" I say only to Sean.

He laughs with me. "I don't know, it makes sense to him, I guess. Ever since he's figured out what he can do, he's been so obsessed with the idea of extreme."

I'm not really catching on. "Implying?"

"I'm worried he's too strong to handle himself. It's such a heavy responsibility too, you know?"

"I can imagine." I look at Daniel and then back at Sean. His eye is trained heavily on his brother like a hawk. It's sweet how protective Sean is of him. "He's so young and now has this amazing ability, I'd be overwhelmed too."

"The worst part is, I don't think he knows it's too much on him. I just hope I can stop him from learning the hard way."

"I understand. But sometimes, you can't fix everything," I pause, careful with my wording. "You have to take care of yourself too."

I'm slowly getting a better idea of Sean's life. I know he is somewhat distant from his mother, if not a lot. His brother has telekinesis, and there's no mention or sign of a father or another mother.

I wonder how much Sean knows about me, if he's trying to figure me out the same way I am. I don't know what he'll find, I know nothing about my life at this point. Every time I think about my parents, they feel like strangers. My old bedroom is no longer mine. Right now, I have nothing but what lies on the surface.

We reach the edge of a cliff overlooking the Grand Canyon, a view that never fails to leave me in awe. The sky is painted in shades of pink and orange, with bright sun rays stretching across the horizon.

I plop down on the ground, feeling exhaustion seeping into my bones. Walking all the way here turned out to be more tiring than I thought. Sean and Daniel settle down next to me, and Daniel's excitement is palpable.

"Y/n, wanna see something cool?" Daniel asks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Absolutely!" I reply, eager to witness whatever he wants to show me. I have a feeling it'll be something I used to consider impossible.

With a mischievous grin, Daniel stares at a pile of stones, which suddenly lift from the ground and soar high above us. It's mesmerizing to watch as the rocks dance and twirl, defying gravity under his control. The power he possesses is unlike anything I've ever seen.

"Look at that!" I exclaim, marveling at Daniel's abilities. "You're like a genuine superhero now."

Daniel's face lights up with pride as he responds, "Believe me, I can do way cooler things than that."

Rolling his eyes playfully, Sean jokingly wrestles with Daniel and retorts, "Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before, Enano. Just don't go off the deep end and start sounding crazy."

"Hey, stop!" Daniel huffs, struggling to break free from Sean's grip.

The scene is undeniably adorable, a contrast from the typical dynamic between older and younger siblings that one would expect.

Later that night, I sat alone in the dimly lit RV, my hair still wet from the shower I just took. It has been a long day, and my mind is still racing from the events that unfolded. Outside, the voices and laughter of unfamiliar faces drift in through the open windows. Other owners of the neighboring RVs, people I have yet to meet.

Feeling a sense of unease, I sink into the worn-out couch, my wet hair clinging to the back of my neck. The idea of stepping outside and talking with strangers feels uncomfortable. Even if Sean and his family are out there too. It's not like I'm close with them either. Besides, I'm not even hungry for dinner, but I am thirsty.

I wander into the kitchen, and the cold tiles send a shiver up my spine. As I reach for a glass and fill it with water, my eyes catch sight of a crumpled newspaper lying on the counter. I've always hated the news, not even because of the entertainment aspect. It just seems like a bunch of bullshit most of the time, biased opinions and nothing to trust. Am I really bored enough to read this?

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I pick up the newspaper with a sigh and settle back onto the couch. Flipping through the flimsy pages, I half-heartedly scan the headlines, not expecting to find anything of interest. But then, my eyes widen, and I nearly choke on my drink.

There, staring back at me from the black and white print, are three familiar faces. Karen, Sean, and Daniel. The names of the people I have found refuge in, safety. But this isn't a heartwarming feature or a story of redemption. It's a wanted poster, listing a litany of crimes connected to them.

My heart sinks as I read through the allegations, each sentence feeling like a dagger twisting in my chest. It's a harsh reminder that life is never as simple or straightforward as we hope. This has to be a mix-up, it has to be. I mean, fuck, I know they're practically still strangers, but they're strangers who saved my life without hesitation.

As I sit there, the weight of the newspaper heavy in my hands, a wave of emotions consumes me. Confusion, anger, disbelief. How can the world see them this way when I've witnessed something entirely different?

I carefully fold the newspaper and place it back on the counter. The sound of the RV door opening behind me sends a jolt of panic through my veins, and I swiftly turn around, my heart pounding in my chest. I can't let them know what I just found out.

"Are you okay?" Sean's voice cuts through the air, clearly noticing my nervousness.

I force a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, but my voice betrays me. Oh my god, maybe I should take an acting class because when the fuck did I suck at lying this much?

"Oh yeah, that's very convincing," he remarks, his tone tinged with sarcasm. Sean leans against the counter next to me, his arms crossed as he waits for my response. His piercing gaze makes it clear that he isn't buying my act.

I let out a nervous chuckle, attempting to regain my composure. "Yeah, sorry. It's just... I'm still shaken up about things back home. Well, if I can even call it that anymore," I admit, because hey, that wasn't a lie.

Sean nods in understanding, his expression softening. "What... what happened?" he asks gently. Then his eyes widen, and he quickly adds, "Shit, that's so invasive. You don't have to tell me."

I take a deep breath. "No, it's okay," I laugh heartily, trying to make things a little less serious. "I feel like you guys deserve to know, considering all that you've done for me already." I pause, biting my lip as I search for the right words. The memories of that night are still a blur, but in the end, they follow a familiar pattern. My father's excessive drinking, the relentless yelling, my own voice rising, and then... he hit me. In that moment, something inside me snapped, and I finally fought back. I was so fucking sick of watching my mother stand behind him, never doing anything herself. And as a result, I was pushed out the door.

I can see a sea of emotions flicker across Sean's face. Sadness, empathy. Being looked at like that makes it all sink in. "God, I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

For the first time ever, I feel like crying about it, and damn near do. Tears threaten from the corners of my eyes as my throat tightens, suffocating in the cries I hold back.

"Hey, shit changes, I guess," I try to talk myself out of it, like it's just a part of life. But fuck, I'm so angry and I want the whole world to know, and yet I stay silent.

#sean diaz #sean diaz x reader #life is strange #life is strange 2 #life is strange x reader #daniel diaz

[emsvertigo]

Money Power Glory

image not mine, found on pinterest

summary & genre — angst & slight nsfw. after the death of a gang member you take a moment to reflect in your tent. however with dutch standing so close you confide in him, which leads to a rare moment between the two of you. takes place in chapter 4 of rdr2.

warnings — touchy reader!!, canon typical violence mentioned, smoking, sensitive conversation topics, major character death.

character & pairing — dutch van der linde x fem!reader (red dead redemption 2. 2018)

word count — 2.2k

a/n — it’s finals season and i’m dying but i’m kinda obsessed with rdr2 rn cause i’m playing it for the first time (ahhh!!) i’m currently on the epilogue but i’m missing arthur’s story with the gang, especially dutch haha, so i decided to write this. obviously once again it is really self insert but i don’t care. if you’re reading this i love you and really hope you enjoy!

also!! don’t worry i’m still writing for ryan! i’ve got a draft in the works!

major spoilers for chapters 1-3 of rdr2!!

find my old fics here! ✿

From outside the tent, hearty singing could be heard, ringing out into the night breeze, a rare occasion for the camp as of late. The notes performed on guitar signified health and victory, however not everything that day brought had been pleasant. The death of a member of the gang had always been celebrated with memory and tales, yet the member who lay was not old enough to carry a lasting legacy. Sean’s death had been greatly overshadowed by the retrieval of Jack. Cheers echoed throughout the camp, yet there was a falseness to the smiles, which didn't quite reach the wearer's eyes.

Not that you didn't love Jack, of course, you did, just like every other member of the gang. His face lighting up with a smile was a blessing, and the only pain you wanted to witness him feel was a full stomach from eating too much. Of course, you wanted nothing but the best for the small child, but a young man had been killed only hours before. A young man that meant more to the gang than they dared realise.

You had passed Karen on your way to your tent, her head in her hand, beer beside her foot, swaying and swearing under her breath. You could never understand her pain, but you could understand the worry and apprehension of a loved one leaving for a mission. Someone who you adored so much that they were a piece of you, who could be taken in an instant. You had feared this moment would come to you, seeing as your lover was reckless, but never to someone as young and treasured as Sean.

You had tried to have a word with her and attempted to offer her comfort in her time of need, but she had shooed you away, drunkenly pointed to your tent, betrothed standing outside. She had slurred something about focusing on your problems and returned to the bottle.

It felt wrong to think of your own life and stupid measly controversies and bickering quarrels when Sean’s brains lay splattered across the ground in Rhodes. But he would have wanted your life to continue, and to think about the present and not the past. Although that didn't stop you from taking the time now to sit unattended, far from the party.

You played with your fingernails, chipping away at the red tint which matched Dutch’s waistcoat. Another way to establish your bond with him, to show that it was you that the infamous gang leader became soft and melted around. How a vicious man became putty in your hands a few years ago and every day since. Yet the days had drawn cold, and his stares distant, his kisses hurried and hasty. His voice always sang praise but never the words you wanted to hear, the poetry he had spoken years previous had turned sour.

With his back to you now, amber firelight illuminating his bloody maroon waistcoat, you observed the muscles in his arms tense as he surveyed the camp. A cigar was placed in his firm grip, blowing clouds of smoke into the air, his hat tilted to cover his eyes. His jaw was tight, small specs of stubble tracing his chin. The look of an elusive and feared leader. But you always could tell when your other half was tormented, and this was one of those times.

You let out a sigh. Just being able to be this close to a man that feared was enough to make you come undone, but his demeanour was not an invitation to show him affection. You believed him to be tired of you, and more interested in the youthful women within the camp. Not that you reprimanded them of course with their flowing hair and high-pitched laughs, any man would swoon at the sight of them. But Dutch? Dutch was your lover, and you couldn't bare to catch a glimpse of his eyes lingering on Mary Beth for a second longer. You wanted him to yearn for you again, to be satisfied with your touch.

But it appeared that he wasn't satisfied with anyone, not even those closest to him, since Blackwater.

“Dutch.” You called out to him, your breath was airy and welcoming. His shoulders tightened, and he took another long drag of his pipe, the amber light illuminating his face for a fleeting moment.

“Dutch.” You repeated, this time in a sing-song voice, trying to gather his attention. You wished to have him wrapped around your pinky yet again. But when he didn't respond and his position stayed intact, you decided to stand and make your way towards him.

You placed your hands over his back, running them up and around his neck, carefully tracing your fingertips along his throat. Dutch startled for a second, but calmed into your touch.

“Didn’t hear you comin’.” He whispered, turning his head towards you for a moment before returning his gaze to his family. He took a final drag of his cigar and dropped it, crushing it below his feet into the ground.

“I called but you didn't answer.” You smiled into his neck, holding him close to you. A gesture that used to be so frequent between you both, but had now become tiresome and unwanted. When Dutch remained silent, you spoke again - worry evident on your lips. “What’s on your mind?”

You noticed his eyebrows furl as he grimaced at his reflection. He sighed before replying, a pause between each statement. “Sean. Jack. John. Micah. Sometimes even Arthur and Hosea.”

As of late it wasn’t commonplace for Dutch to confide in you, and as you smelled the alcohol on his tongue you understood how much he needed comfort.

“I can’t stop thinking about Sean.” You sighed, nuzzling your cheek further into the crevis between his jaw and shoulder. “I know I didn't see it, but I keep picturing him laying there.”

“I know,” Dutch replied, an uneasy tone across his lips, “I feel as though I’m responsible for his death.”

You retreated from his shoulder at this remark. How could his mind twist his goals into acts of brutality? He had always been a good man, and you understood that more than anyone.

“Dutch..” You gently grasped his hands in yours, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t blame yourself for something you weren't there to prevent.”

His head dipped, hat sliding down his forehead as he did. You reached one hand up to grasp the hem of his hat and removed it from his head, dropping it to the side of your leg. The same hand then arose to cup the side of his face, running fingertips across his jaw. Your fingers danced into his sideburns and fiddled with the short hair growing there.

“This whole gang is fallin’ apart,” He paused, soaking in the emotion in your eyes. “Nobody has any goddamn faith anymore!” He spoke.

The silence that followed that statement was only heard by you, blood pumping in your ears as you thought back to every time you had been by Dutch’s side. How long you had been with him, and how much you had been through.

“Except for me.”

He lingered, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Yes. Except for you.”

Moments like this were so hard to come by. Dutch had been so occupied recently, going out scoring for the gang, all the while his conscience was plaguing him with ideologies and problems. Problems that were causing him to completely forget his old, loving, self. Beats like this one had to be shared with complete tranquillity. It didn't matter that Dutch had been eyeing other women, the only woman he could have at any moment was you, and sometimes you wished he would take advantage of that gift.

“I’m here for you, Dutch.” You whispered, his hands coming to find your hips and walking you back into the tent. “I'll always be by your side.”

“I know.” His reply solidified his tough exterior, but you knew that it meant a hell of a lot more to him that you had vocalised your trust in him, and the faith he so desperately clung to. “Just as I am to you, my sweet.”

The saccharine words dripping from his tongue sent you spiralling, but you knew of his silver tongue personality and understood he would use it to get whatever he wanted. He used it with the men, so why wouldn’t he use it to make your brain melt away? But as compliments fell from his mouth, you allowed yourself to be caught like a fish into his lure.

The music playing outside seemed to fade away, muffled by the intense stare Dutch was delivering. His eyelids were slightly heavy from the drink, and in close proximity, you saw his eyelashes flutter. One of his hands trapped yours in a gentle clutch, rubbing circles over the skin there. Your hand cupped his face, sliding your thumb against the stubble. You had hoped to discuss the issue surrounding his loyalty to you, but with his breath fanning your face with hot air you couldn't bare to let the moment disappear.

“Don’t worry, Dutch.” You exhaled, lips almost locking with your own. “You always think of something.”

Dutch reached his hand up from your hip and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His golden rings brushed against your cheek, which sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Looking back down at you he confessed;

“Right now I can’t think of anything but you.”

A small smile formed on your face as he leaned forwards and connected your lips in a tender kiss. A sigh escaped his lips as you drew your other hand up to cup the opposite cheek and tug him closer to you, closing your eyes as his chest met yours. His arms snaked slowly around your waist, placing themselves flat on the small of your back, cupping the material that sat there. The hair from his moustache tickled your upper lip and left you smiling into the kiss. His lips danced carefully around yours, making sure to keep the steady tempo of hearts melting into one. The souls of two individuals becoming a singular feeling.

Dutch dipped his tongue into your mouth, running his way along your bottom lip and encouraging your mouth to open and invite him inside. A small groan escaped his lips as the kiss became more heated, his hands lowering to grab at the bottom of your ass. The taste of smoke and whiskey was overwhelming in your throat as his tongue traced your teeth, and both your breaths met in the slim space between your starving bodies.

Dutch mumbled your name across your mouth, a noise that created a large arousal in you. Your hands reached down and glided slowly along the front of his waistcoat and down his chest. Your lips then disconnected when your hands found his gun belt, tugging at the rough leather found there. The buckle under your fingers, cool against your skin as his golden chains bounced onto your knuckles. His forehead connected with yours, breath tumbling from his lips.

“Darlin’...” He groaned, bucking his hips as your hand fell further onto his clothed crotch, feeling him beneath your touch. You spoke his name like a prayer, running over his lips with furious kisses. Your shawl fell to the ground, as his hands moved around your neck, your hand still pressing further into his most sensitive spot.

A moan escaped your lips as he jerked his hips forward, melting into your touch, pleading that you please him and rid him of this dreadful tension building up underneath our palm.

Suddenly there was a shout at the mouth of the tent and a wolf whistle to accompany it. Breaking your intimate moment, your cheeks burned red and Dutch turned to the entrance to confront the intruder, panting hard.

“Look at you!” The voice shouted, words slurred into one another, the stench of alcohol flowing through the air. You'd recognise that disgusting drawl anywhere. Micah. You could've cursed Dutch for allowing him to join the gang, let alone wasting this private moment.

Dutch shot Micah a glare and turned his body to cover you, flashing the silver pistol in its holster towards Micah. A loud and clear threat of death if Micah was not going to leave. But at this display of powerful rage, he backed off, grasping the bottle in his hand and throwing it into the swamp.

Dutch kicked a tent pole which caused the entrance of your makeshift home to close, excluding the rest of the world from your sanctuary. Another firm non-verbal to Micah, or anyone else in the gang, that you were his and no one could disturb you.

Dutch’s mouth was soon at your ear, tickling your skin with his moustache once again.

“Now, where were we?” He cooed, bringing your attention back to him. He placed one hand on either side of your hips and walked you back into the tent, seating you on the edge of your cot.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #dutch rdr2 #dutch van der linde fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #fanfic #imagine #oneshot #hioreh fanfictions

[titus-androgynous-87]

I am baffled that this fucking crusty ass rat lookin white boy named fucking WILDER isn’t the worst one on Couple to Throuple

I hated him the moment I laid eyes on him. I hated his fucking rat face. I hated his bottle blonde mullet. I hated his crusty mustache. And when his partner Corey started talking about him having crossed boundaries before, I -really- hated him

I’m only on episode 6 or 7 I think, and he has actually surprised me. He and their additional partner, Denyse, have been really good about taking things at Corey’s pace. And making sure to reassure Corey that going slow and setting boundaries isn’t ruining their dynamic

Wilder actually said, out loud “You not voicing your concerns WILL ruin the night, because then you’ll be uncomfortable and we won’t know. That’s how boundaries get crossed”

Wilder and Corey are also the only couple who have stuck with the same partner through the entire process. All the other couples have swapped at least once. Which is fine, and the point of the show. But it feels really superficial and gross when the couples talk about their temporary partners like they are objects for their pleasure and convenience.

Wilder and Corey at least seem to understand that polyamory goes beyond the physical. Though I do giggle because it seems like Denyse is way more into Corey than Wilder. And Corey is way more into Denyse. And Wilder seems content being their third wheel

Real “this is my girlfriend, Corey, and her girlfriend, Denyse” energy. But they seem to understand that polyamorous relationships, especially closed triads like this, don’t have to be 100% equitable all the time. People are naturally going to have deeper connections with some folks and not others. Doesn’t mean they don’t all care for one another. Nobody can post anything on SM until after the reunion, which is understandable. But I’d be interested to know if they’re still a triad (closed or open) or if they’ve all gone their separate ways

I’m really just here for Maximo and Ash at this point, because they’re the queer energy this show needs. And you could instantly see how relaxed the singles were around both of them

Both are non-binary, pan, and have experience with polyamory, though individually and not as a couple (which is how I think this show should have been structured to begin with)

They’re messy and silly and a touch toxic, but who isn’t on this show?

The ones I -really- fucking despise are the swinger couple looking to just have threesomes

Fucking humiliating their additional partners for not wanting to immediately get physically intimate, let alone fuck, within the first hour of meeting. Treating additional partners like playthings to be shelved when they’re bored and picked back up at their convenience. Mocking additional partners for setting boundaries and voicing concerns. Mocking additional partners for having feelings and thoughts and hopes and dreams. The, frankly, disgusting dynamic of centering Dylan as the UltraSigmaAlphaBro with two women hanging off him. I hope his dick falls off from all the steroids. And his wife Lauren is no better

They never should have been cast

Ashmal and Rehman are MESSY. And totally using their partner Johnathan to triangulate their pre-existing issues. These two need locked in a room until they actually discuss their issues

Ashmal has never taken Rehman to meet his family. Hasn’t spoken with his family about Rehman, nothing. And they keep bringing thirds in to ignore the real problems

Messy, under the covers handjobs don’t solve rifts in your relationship, yall. A two legged table cannot stand

And I have no fucking clue why Brittne and Sean are here. They don’t seem into each other, let alone an additional partner. They’re constantly running away from criticisms and difficult discussions. They ignore their partners and shut down their concerns. Brittne made it absolutely clear she is to be the queen bee of the group, to be catered to

Which isn’t how a healthy duo works. Let alone a triad

Idk this show has a LOT of flaws. But if they do a second season, I think the singles should have all the agency and focus, not the couples. Gimme a group of like 15 poly/pan/fluid folks and let me watch them form their own polycules

Because if I have to listen to another straight man giggle about threesomes, I’m gonna go into my back yard and eat dirt until the rage stops

I really wish Becca, one of the more prominent singles, had warned the rest of the group about Dylan and Lauren just looking to be swingers. That would have added so much more interest for me

Like how are the singles going to approach them about their toxic and gross behavior? Will the couple grow and learn and change when confronted with this? (No but we’d have fun watching them flounder and cry that no one wants to fuck them, let alone go home with them)

#it’s so fucking tragic #but I can’t stop watching #Couple to Throuple #peacock