#Dutch Van Der Linde x reader

[evieliney]

how i feel after searching for hours for fluff but all i can find is sucking their soul out of their dick.

[autrytonic]

Bite

content : Dutch VDL, fem!reader, platter play, cann!balism mentions, cunnilingus, piv, 18+, MDNI

author's note : very very seldom do i write Dutch one shots because I quite frankly find Dutch repulsive *but* this one has been simmering in my wips for a while and I thought it was time to show her off to the world x this was definitely inspired by the fan theories that Dutch is a cannibal 💀 so i thought id have a try writing intk such carnal desires. i hope you guys enjoy x

You lay motionless on the long dining table, bare skin kissed by flickering candlelight. Dutch had positioned you exactly how he wanted—limbs stretched, glistening with oil and honey, adorned with fruit and herbs like some sacrificial offering. A silk ribbon wrapped around your neck, more for the illusion than restraint.

He watched you from the doorway, licking his bottom lip like a man starving.

“Goddamn,” he breathed. “You look... exquisite.”

He circled the table slowly, eyes devouring every inch. The glint in them wasn’t just lust. It was hunger. Deep and primal.

“You know what you are to me, don't you?” His voice was low, reverent. “You’re not just a woman tonight. You're a meal. My fantasy made flesh.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ankle, then your calf, dragging up toward your thigh with an unhurried purpose.

“You’re not meant to walk out of this room,” he whispered. “You’re meant to be devoured.”

He pressed a kiss just above your knee, then another higher still. His beard scratched, his mouth burned. When he reached the inside of your thigh, he bit—not hard, but firm enough to make you gasp.

“Don’t squirm,” he warned, eyes flashing. “You’re on display.”

His tongue moved slowly over your skin, tasting the honey, the oil, the salt of your arousal. Every breath you took was shallow, your body straining to stay still as he made a slow descent into madness.

Dutch reached your center and paused, inhaling like a man savoring the scent of a roast.

“Perfect,” he growled. “So warm. So wet. Sweet as sin.”

And then his mouth was on you, hungry and unrelenting. He licked and sucked like he meant to consume you, like he didn’t just want to please you—he wanted to claim you, erase every trace of the woman you were until there was nothing left but his.

Your hips bucked against his face, and he gripped them hard, forcing you still.

“You’re mine,” he said, voice thick. “Every bite, every inch.”

When you came, he moaned against you, licking you through it like he was savoring his favorite course. Then he stood, undoing his pants with shaking fingers, eyes never leaving your body.

“You think I’m done?” he said. “I haven’t even had the main course.”

He thrust into you with a force that rocked the table, one hand on your throat, the other holding your leg wide open. His eyes were wild now, pupils blown, teeth bared in something between a grin and a snarl.

“You’re food,” he growled, fucking you hard. “Say it.”

“I’m food,” you gasped, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

“Louder.”

“I’m your food.”

He groaned deep in his chest, hips slamming into yours with frantic need. You felt consumed, dominated, utterly undone.

When he finished, he collapsed over you, breath hot against your neck, hand stroking your ribs like he was counting them.

“Don’t ever let anyone feed me again,” he said, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “You’re all I’ll ever need.”

[marttapav]

and if you leave here, you leave me broken, shattered I lie.

[cagednymph0]

꒰ა dutch van der linde x fem! reader

𐔌 cw - 99% smutttt, fast paced (as always), age gap (reader is in her 20s), MAJOR innocence & corruption kink, dutch is a perv, fantasizing, cheating, use of pet names, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), overstimulation , size difference, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, breeding kink.

𐔌 a/n - just a quick one shot before i finish up some requests — forgive me Molly, ily — not sure if smutty books existed in the 1800s, but pretending they did — also here is the cai version <3

Dutch had a lady. But after all this time, she wasn’t exactly what he needed. The once fiery woman had now dissolved into a shell of her former self. He was finding it hard to keep her entertained.

Day after day she’d nag, and nag, and nag. He couldn’t stand being around her most days. Couldn’t seem to catch a break.

But you. Oh, you.

Dutch has a natural inclination to appreciate a new face.. but you? You were especially interesting. Unlike anyone else at camp. Like an innocent little lamb caught in a den of wolves. You didn’t belong with these rugged folk. You had hardly experienced the cruelty of this world. You were like a breath of fresh air. A sweet release.

You often kept to yourself, engrossed in the pages of fiction that lay in your hands. Lost in your own world and blissfully unaware of Dutch’s lingering presence.

“How’re you settling in, my dear?” His voice startles you, drawing your attention away from your book. “Folks been treatin’ you alright?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, somewhat bashful. “Some real nice people…”

Sir. Oh, how he loved the sound of that title coming from your sweet little mouth.

You looked at him with the utmost respect. Like he was some kind of savior, or hero. He was nothing of the kind. If only you knew the nasty thoughts that swarmed his mind everytime you were near. Everytime you looked up at him with those gorgeous, doe-like eyes.

He yearned to ruin you.

“Glad to hear.” He motions his hand toward your book. “Whatcha’ readin’ there?”

Quickly, you attempt to conceal the cover from his view. He grins. How cute. You were embarrassed.

“It’s nothing interesting…” you retort. “Really. Just some silly old romance story I found.”

Dutch hums, crouching down towards you to take a peek at it. It was indeed a silly old romance story. And he’s willing to bet you’ve never even experienced half the things that occur within it.

“No need to be shy with me, little miss. I’m not one to judge.” he tips your head back up, sweeping away a few stray hairs that fall over your eyes. The cool silver of one of his rings brushes the flesh of your cheek. He notes the way you shudder at the contact. Like you’d never been touched before. Sends an unbearable surge of heat through him, straight down to his cock.

“Perhaps another time, you could read a bit for me?”Begrudgingly, he stands back up, letting you go. His pants were growing uncontrollably tight. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could conceal himself.

You nod in agreement, shaking off your feelings of fluster. “Yes, Mister Van Der Linde. I’d enjoy that.”

You sure would.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

Doesn’t take long before he’s hurriedly pumping his fist over his length once he’s excused himself from camp. His ‘taking a walk’ is just a shitty cover for his true intentions.

In a secluded place near camp — not too close but not too far — he sits, eyes closed against a tree. All he can imagine is your cute little face. Sweet, plump lips. Your pretty, innocent eyes gazing up at him through your fluttery lashes.

He craved you to no end.

Never in his life had he needed something so badly.

He groans, corkscrewing and churning his palm around his leaky tip, picturing the way your lips would part as he’d ease into your warm, wet mouth. Imagining the tears that’d fill your lashline as you struggled to take it all in.

But you would take it all.

He knew you would. You were such a sweet girl, you’d probably do anything he asked of you. You were so grateful to him. So grateful to him for taking you in.

You’d never guess what a sick and twisted man he truly is. Cumming all over himself to the thought of breaking you in. He was a disgusting, horrible man. Not even close to worthy of your gratitude.

And he had no shame. None at all. Cleaned up, walked back to camp, back to Miss O’Shea like it was nothing. Slept by her side like a baby. Without lick of guilt in his system.

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

The following day, he made his rounds. It was like routine.

After wishing everyone good morning — and attempting to appease Molly — he’d stealth over to your bedroll to pay you a ‘friendly’ visit. Which you, of course, thought nothing of. Mister Van Der Linde was just a sweet, selfless man in your eyes. Treated everyone equally.

In truth, he was always desperate to see you. To hear your voice. Just so he could have more material to think of when he’s tending to his needs. His intentions were anything but good. And he loved that you were too dumb to catch on.

You followed him into your tent like an obedient puppy. Just to read your book to him.

You sat in his lap in your pretty little dress, just as he asked, without even questioning it. It was like a dream come true for him. It was far too easy to get what he wanted from you.

The pair of you sit on your bedroll, Dutch’s larger form leering over your shoulder as you read the words from your book. The story was cheesy. Everything he had expected from a romantic novel.

Well, for the most part.

Some aspects surprised him. He hadn’t expected a sweetheart like you to read something so… erotic. The way you read these things aloud to him so effortlessly made him question a bit.

His hands rub slowly, tantalizingly up and down your sides as he listens intently. It appeared you were no longer paying attention to him or what he was doing, far too immersed in what you were reading.

In actuality, all you could focus on was the scruff of his facial hair tickling your neck. His large hands splayed out along your middle. His reoccurring hums of praise.

How you wished he’d teach you how to do the things they were doing in your book.

You found yourself leaning back, sinking further into his warm lap. Letting your dress hike up just a tad. You wanted him to notice. Wanted it so badly. You were too scared to say something to him outright.

It was so unbelievably wrong. Pining after a man so much older than you. A man who was taken. You wouldn’t dare.

But he would.

“Ever done something like that, my dear?” he questioned, referring to the page you were on. You were hardly even comprehending the words, too distracted by his closeness.

Of course, you had touched yourself before. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.

“No, sir…” you shake your head. “Never.”

“No?” he mocks surprise. “That’s a shame.”

You’re almost disappointed when he drops the topic, urging you to continue narrating. You feared you just threw away the only opportunity you had to be something more to him. But then, you feel a rough hand snake it’s way up the bare skin of your thigh.

“I’d love to teach you, sweet girl.” he eyes you closely, observing your expression like a hawk. He was pushing it. He knew that. But in this moment in time, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the potential risks. And deep down he knew you wouldn’t deny him. You needed his expertise.

Your thighs instinctively spread, making way for his hands to venture higher. Your body language told him everything he needed to know.

“Atta girl,” he praises. His fingers inch their way up to your panties, rubbing along the outside. “Keep reading for me.”

You obey, continuing where you left off before his interruption, struggling again to focus as he slips his hand beneath the fabric of your underwear. He dips into your slick, groaning in arousal at the feeling. You were absolutely dripping wet, and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet.

“Such a needy little thing,” he teases, sliding his finger through your juices. “Let’s take these off.”

Gently, he pulls your panties down, letting them slip off from your ankles, revealing your pretty virgin pussy. He almost turns feral at the sight.

His arms snake around your waist once more and he uses his legs to pry apart your own. “Fuck.. You’re perfect,” he husks. “Anyone ever told you that, baby?”

“No, sir.” Again, you shake your head. “No one’s ever seen me like this.”

He takes a deep breath, trying and failing to calm his nerves. That fact alone, that he was the first to see, made him painfully hard.

“Such a good, sweet girl.” he coos, his middle and index fingers moving circles around your little nub. “Let’s keep it that way.”

He holds you steady on his lap, relishing in the way you squirm against him.

“Mister Van Der Linde-“ you whimper, sending another surge of heat down south. Mister. Sir. It drove him mad.

“Shhh,” he hushes gently. “Wouldn’t want to get caught now, would we?”

He eases a finger in, his breath hitching at the way your squeeze around him. So fucking tight. He couldn’t wait to stretch you out, mould you to his shape and size. You were going to be his and his alone.

He adds another digit, slowly but surely scissoring you open. He curls them inside of you, searching for that spongey spot to make your toes curl. He rubs over it in slow strokes, making your pussy drool.

“Mm.. making such a mess for me.” he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean. He nearly loses it. You were so fucking sweet. He needed more.

He lifts you off of his lap with ease, laying you flat on your back on your bedroll. He’s no longer thinking. Just doing. Bunching your frilly dress up over your hips and burying his face between your legs.

His large, roman nose dives into your cunt, nudging your clit as his mouth latches on. Your fail to muffle your moans as his tongue laps through your folds. He’s sloppy with it, eating like it’s his last meal.

He slurps and sucks through your mess, eventually setting on your clit. He flicks his tongue mercilessly, panting and groaning into you. Your hips threaten to lift off the bed, unable to stop squirming as relentlessly he torments your poor pussy. But he forces you back down, not willing to let you slip away. Not until he’s had his fill.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” he mumbles, the vibrations of his deep voice almost make you tip over the edge. “Cum on my tongue, sweet girl. Let go for me.”

Your thighs tighten around his head squeezing him suffocatingly tight. He doesn’t mind, of course. If anything he loves it. Knowing he’s making you lose your mind.

“Gooood girl,” he drawls out, still circling his tongue around your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me…”

You do. And it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He doesn’t stop until you’re practically jirating. Until your voice starts to reach that painfully high octave, begging and pleading with him to stop.

When he sees that fucked out look on your face, he can’t hold back. His belt comes undone, pants dropping down to his ankles. His hard cock hangs heavy. He lays it to rest against your lower stomach, as if measuring how deep he’ll go.

“Look at that, baby…” he’s peering down, pupils blown out. “Think you can take it all?”

You’re still struggling to catch your breath from cumming last. Your brain hadn’t fully recovered, all you knew was that you needed something more. Needed it so badly.

“Yes, sir..” you pant. “Fill me… please.”

Before you know it, his lips come crashing against yours in a messy, spit filled kiss. His tongue slips in past your lips seeking out yours.

“My sweet, innocent girl. I’m going to ruin your little pussy. My little pussy.” his teeth sink into your lower lip, dragging back and reluctantly letting go.

His fat tip drags down your slit searching for your entrance. He throbs, his precum mixing with yours as he pushes in. He sucks air through his teeth, wincing. You were squeezing his cock so tight it was almost painful.

He watches your nose scrunch as you take in this new sensation. “Mm.. relax for me-“

His hips roll forward, pushing deeper inside of you and he swears under his breath. His girth was stretching you to the max. Tears fill your eyes as he thrusts a final time, bottoming out inside of you. Your mouth pops open, but your voice fails you.

“Fuck- that’s it… s’ okay. Taking me so, so well.” he croons, swiping the tears from your cheeks. “So proud of you..”

He kisses you once again, much softer this time.

Once you’ve calmed down and adjusted to the size of him, he begins to roll his hips. He shudders, pulling out and pushing back into your depths.

The sounds of squelching and slapping of skin soon fill your small tent. Plap. Plap. Plap.

Dutch can’t control himself enough to go slow anymore. He’s fucking your tight cunt like you’re his personal fleshlight. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and he’s practically crushing you with his weight.

Your legs remain wrapped around his waist, and your hands squeeze his as he pins them at your sides. “So fucking good…” he moans. “Like you were made just for me.”

“Mister Van Der Lin-“ you mewl, and his lips attack yours, muffling your sweet voice.

He picks up the pace, desperately chasing his high. He pulls away to whisper harshly into your ear “Mmm- My pretty little cock sleeve. Gonna breed you so full… Fill you with my babies.”

Dutch’s thrusts begin to lose their rythym. He’s watching your face. Your arched brows, glossy eyes staring up at him like your brain has gone dumb. Turned into a pool of mush. So fucking pretty.

The sight of you pushes him over the edge. His cum spurts out inside of you, deep within your canal. He rides out his high, lost in the pleasure and unable to stop his movements.

He curses softly, filling you with everything he’s got, letting you milk his aching cock.

He eventually pulls out with a wet plop, flopping down beside you to catch his breath. You curl up to his side. His hand comes up to rest on your head, lightly scratching at your scalp.

“You did so well for me, sweet girl.” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Wore this dirty old man out.”

[marigold-field]

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

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

First. Side note: This post was only intended to give resources to fanfiction writers and enjoyers. My talk on recent political events was a context/reasoning on why I made this post. Also I’ve had to add more information to this post over time due to people’s confusion in my comments. Explaining it was to make sure that this post didn’t come off as out of the blue for my followers and this community. Which is fanfiction.

Also, why I made this post was from people asking if they could download my fanfiction because of the recent political events in America hence why I named it “saving my fanfiction work” and added my context. So this was also a post to tell people that liked my fanfiction they could download it as long as it was for their personal collection. I merely just wanted to list resources to people who wanted to download fanfiction and don’t know where to start or don’t have the immediate resources. I’m not here to fear-monger. I am just giving resources and the reasoning on why I’m giving them along with urging people to look into those information/recent events as staying aware is important. I respect everybody who’s given their opinion and yes, some of my grammar in this post is not adequate as this post was merely made for giving/stating resources.

Lastly, I will no longer update this post with comments as I’ve said my peace, nor will I pay attention to the notifications as they are muted. As my page is for fanfiction not politics. Thank you for the people in this community who share this post for the resources see you around the tags! Stay safe friends!!✨ Remember I love you! And you are loved!💛

-

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

And here are some resources in case you don’t feel okay! Resources here

[evimightdraw]

Your comment didn’t go appreciated, mr. Bronte

[fawnwilde]

Taboo .𖥔 ݁ ˖

Masterlist | various x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

Reader finds herself intertwined in the VDL gang after saving some of their members.

There must be something in the air, because everyone seems entranced by her...

content warning: f reader, smut MDNI, like seriously this is pure filth, ur fuckin the whole gang, every position every location, will add more as it goes along x

ongoing...

Prologue

I - gratitude - dutch van der linde

II - relief - john marston

III - ecstasy - sean macguire

IV - solace - javier escuella

V - yearning - arthur morgan

VI - favour - charles smith

VII - embrace - hosea matthews

VIII - confusion - bill williamson

IX - gentle - kieran duffy

X - loathing - micah bell

XI - whimsical - josiah trelawny

XII -synergy - arthur morgan & charles smith

XIII - romantic - mary-beth gaskill

XIV - liaison - dutch van der linde & hosea matthews

XV - absolution - sadie adler

I’m taking creative liberties because, even having played the game, the timeline confuses me.

Jack doesn't exist because he is a tiny being and shouldn't be featured in a filthy story like this, in any way. Abigail does exist but isn't apart of this story, only mentioned briefly. Molly isn't here to protect her and my peace x

fic taglist: @warmsideofthepillow03 @sammymcsamerson @m1stea @iamaunknownsecret @love-you-louise @vanpan8 @6esi @idcmannn @pumpkin-toffee @littlebirdgot @ripvanwinkleee @straows @bixjan @luzhesrozes @clementine-writes-things @mandalover2023 @el3mentlexpl0rer

[calamityjoan]

A DAUGHTER'S CURSE ✮ DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

SUMMARY | "Dutch's bloody hands had shaped you into his favorite revolver, even more deadly than his Schofield, for there was nothing in the world as bloodthirsty as a daughter who wanted to prove she was worth ten sons."

PAIRING | Dutch van der Linde x Adoptive Daughter!Reader

TAGS | Canon-typical violence, mention of sexual assault, daddy issues (a lot of it) and angst.

WORDCOUNT | 3.5k

NOTE | This verse screams Damned!Dutch's daughter. Enjoy the product of that. It is chaotic and messy and not proofread but⏤oh well⏤isn't that fitting for RDR2? The final part contains direct quotes from the game and, thus, may be a spoiler. But come on, it's been seven years.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

Like the marvelous country that was the West, the loyalty of men knew no bound. It went beyond law and reason, and sometimes drove the purest hearts to the worst horrors.

Some had dedicated poems to its beauty, its dangers too, but no soul had ever created pentameters faithful enough to the loyalty of daughters for their fathers.

The daughter's loyalty was the father's weapon, a silent but destructive ammunition on which men could always count. The father sculpted his daughter and molded her to his will.

Dutch's bloody hands had shaped you into his favorite revolver, even more deadly than his Schofield, for there was nothing in the world as bloodthirsty as a daughter who wanted to prove she was worth ten sons.

It all began when he found you on Chicago's government pier, at the edge of Civilization and all its sins.

Above his head, night and its thick, speckled tapestry wove, as usual, the perfect place to conceal a plethora of crimes.

But certainly not the weeping—it drowned out the creaking of the merchant ship Dutch and Hosea had managed to plunder.

The outlaw turned and squinted, forgetting the bear fur to investigate the sound anomaly. It took him a few seconds to make out the small figure lurking in the shadows.

Wrapped up in an overcoat too big for you, you—a mere child at that time—shivered behind a barrel that reeked of rotting meat.

“What are you doing?” Hosea asked, his hand elbow-deep in a jewelry box. “Hurry up. Arthur and John are probably already on Dearborn Street.”

Dutch ignored his friend's protests and took a step towards you. Your face, innocent as can be and distorted by the ugliness of fear, blanched at his sight.

Your frightened eyes guided me to you, your father always said. Their tears aligned the stars, and I only followed my destiny.

You knew the truth—what had really caught his attention that evening had been the bloody knife you had brandished at him with trembling hands.

You would never forget the sparkle that shone in his eyes at the sight, nor the hand he offered you.

When your tiny fingers brushed Dutch's blistered ones—the fingers of a sinner—and the man promised you bed and a hot meal, the first poisoned drops of loyalty flowed and mingled with the night so easily that you didn't see their crimson color.

The first lesson Dutch taught you was how to shoot a gun. He gave you his, then too heavy for your small hand.

The dissonance between the tender skin of innocence and the ominous iron barrel disturbed Hosea (“Isn't it a bit too early for that? She's only seven. Show her how to pick pocket instead,”) but not Dutch, who merely smiled and corrected your grip on the weapon.

“For now, hold it with both hands. One on the stock, the other under the barrel. Your fingers should always be on or against the guard. Never on the trigger, unless you want to shoot yourself in the foot. Only pull the trigger when you're ready to shoot.”

“How will I know I'm ready?” you asked in a timid voice.

A second passed. Dutch shrugged.

“You'll know when the time comes. Now, feet apart.”

His boot pushed against your frail ankle. 

“Bend your knees. Good. Now hold still.”

The man walked away. You almost reached out a hand but, remembering his words, quickly put it back under the barrel.

From a leather satchel, Dutch drew four glass bottles and placed them in a row. The remnants of a strong spirit, no doubt. The pungent aromas scented the camp often enough for you to recognize them.

The outlaw returned soon enough, and your shoulders relaxed. You had not been aware of their contraction until the scent of powder and musk embraced you again.

“You know how it works, don't you?”

You nodded shyly. A strand of hair escaped your braid and fell before your eyes. Dutch tutted. With a distracted hand, he tucked it behind your ear before pressing his palm against your shoulder blades.

“Now, both hands on the stock.”

You complied, hands trembling. Dutch pointed to the bottles with his chin as his hand at your back became more insistent.

“Try aiming for a–”

A deafening crack shook the barrel before Dutch had finished his sentence. The sound reverberated against the surrounding trees and the accompanying jolt struck your wrist with such force you were forced to let go of the gun.

Dutch's hand pressed against your shoulder blades.

“It's all right, it's all right. I've got you.”

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Dutch! I didn't mean to– ’m sorry!”

The words stumbled from your lips, drowned out by panic and the ghostly buzzing that persisted against your eardrums.

“It's very... noisy.”

“You'll get used to it,” the outlaw's voice snapped. “Do it again. But this time, breathe out before you fire. Your lungs must be empty, understand? It'll help with the recoil.”

Childlike fingers searched for the trigger.

“Empty lungs,” Dutch repeated.

The bottle, still intact, glinted in the sunlight. One of the rays shimmered against the barrel before disappearing as you aimed at the glass; a gloomy eclipse that made you shiver.

You closed your eyes for a second, exhaled until you felt your ribcage fold in on itself, and hesitated only a second before firing.

The bullet whistled.

And disappeared in the bushes. 

You sighed.

“It's all right, Kid,” he reassured you. “We've got all the time in the world.”

You borrowed only an hour of the world’s time before a bottle finally exploded. Enchanted by the shattering glass, you turned back to Dutch, grinning from ear to ear.

And that singular sparkle reappeared in the man's brown eyes.

Years later, you would recognize this glint as that of an outlaw who had got his hands on a gold mine. For the time being, you were a mere seven-year-old and relished in the attention you were receiving for the first time in your life.

With your veins as the thread, loyalty wove its first stitches in your chest and condemned you to the worst curse of all: a daughter trying to make her dather proud.

At the age of twelve, you thus asked Hosea to teach you how to hunt. He took you to a forest on the edge of Chicago, not far from the camp, and placed a rifle in your blistered palms. Trapped between the silence of the forest and birdsongs, you shot a doe for the first time and regretted that Dutch could not be with you to see it.

At the age of fourteen, Arthur realized you weren’t going anywhere. Like him several years earlier, you had taken root and become a member of the pack—one of his to protect. When you were nearly killed during a stagecoach robbery, he handed you his old shotgun, muttering words about being more careful next time and left you standing there, with a new weapon in your arms.

At the age of fifteen, John tossed a bag full of throwing knives at your feet and dared you to hit the target drawn on the oak tree. Never one to pass on a challenge, you drew one out and weighed it on your finger. The steel, lighter than that of a revolver, nicked the pad of your index. John laughed. You raised an eyebrow and threw the dagger, stabbing it in the trunk as John looked on in disbelief. Behind you both, Dutch burst out laughing and you felt alive again.

Other members came and went over the next few years. Mary Linton didn't stay, but Susan and Tilly did, as Bill, Javier and Davey. You were introduced to other weapons—snipers, dynamite, bows, even axes—but you would always return to your revolver and the first memory of Dutch.

Loyalty wrapped itself around your neck for good when, at seventeen, you killed for Dutch for the first time.

Nothing remained of the sensation of that night on the pier, when the blade had sunk into the fat belly of the drunkard who had tried to rape you.

Today, dread was replaced by jubilation, as you reloaded the barrel of your revolver and blew the head off yet another O'Driscoll. Crouched behind a rock, adrenalin pounded your temples and sharpened your senses.

“Come out! Van Der Linde!” a voice taunted behind her. “Colm wants to say hello!”

A shadow in a green scarf swooped down on Dutch. You choked out a scream as the O’Driscoll threw the first punch.

“No, Father!”

Dutch fell in the mud with a grunt. The O'Driscoll turned back to her, a toothy grin on his lips. His fist, still clenched, was dripping blood. Your father's blood, you realized.

The butt of your revolver lacerated your palm as you tightened your grip around it.

“I didn't know good ol’ Dutch had a daughter! Tell me, sweetheart, do you want to see me blow your daddy's brains out?”

The Irishman grabbed Dutch's hair. You saw red and jumped.  

Three blows echoed through the clearing. Dutch fell back to the ground. The O'Driscoll raised a hand to his chest and blanched.

Empty lungs.

He collapsed, his scarf green no more.

You dropped your revolver and rushed to Dutch. The man was still lying on the ground, his face covered in mud and blood, but his bewildered eyes moved frantically as he caught sight of you.

“Are you all right?” you asked, breathless.

The look of disbelief didn't go away. Louisa thought at first of head trauma—his head, after all, had slammed against the floor—but when he got to his feet without your help, your own words came back to taunt you.

Your whole body froze before you straightened up and, avoiding his eyes, turned around to rush to your horse.

You straddled him and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

“You called me ‘Father’,” he told her that evening, when you finally summoned the courage to go see him.

In silence, you sat at his bedside before grabbing a clean rag and soaking it with whisky. With a trembling hand, you wiped the clotted blood from the corners of her lips, searching their familiar shapes for the right words. Dutch always knew what to say.

“I did,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

He grabbed your wrist.

You tensed.

“Why?”

“I don't know.”

Dutch searched your face for something, but didn't seem to find it. He abruptly let go and pulled a cigar from his jacket’s patch pocket before lighting it. You watched the man take a short puff; for a moment, the arabesques of smoke diverted your mind from the anguish that swarmed within.

But Dutch's sigh plunged you right back into it. He spread an arm out.

You flinched but a hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from falling.

“Come here, Kid.”

You promptly burst into tears and fell into his arms.

Several minutes passed without either of you speaking. Dutch broke the silence first.

“Can I count on you?”

“I'll follow you all the way to Hell,” you immediately replied, unaware that the Styx and Phlegethon started from your father's wounds.

 “Dutch is just trying to get us out of here,” you sharply whispered to Arthur as you scoured tonight’s dinner’s dishes.

The incessant splashing of icy water was doing a poor job at masking your anger. The feeling of betrayal had cut too deep at your chest for that. It made your fingers shake as you rubbed a dirty coffee cup a little harder. 

Of all the members of the gang, you had never thought Arthur would doubt Dutch.

You kept your eyes fixed on your hands, reddened not by blood but by effort—a rare sight indeed. Lately, not a day went by without you being sent to kill someone.

You grabbed another plate to shake off the weight of guilt. The sponge squeaked against the iron and drowned your thoughts for a second.

“He ain’t been the same since Micah came,” Arthur began, “and you know it as well as me. Always talking about his big plan, dangling mountains of gold in front of us, but we both know it won’t happen.”

You slammed the bowl against the table, startling Pearson who was butchering a doe, and turned back to Arthur, your finger pointed at him.

“You don't know what you're talking about!”

“And you're blinded by your love for him! Look around, Y/N. We're the last. Civilization is on our doorstep. Dutch can't fight it. We've got to get out. John, Sadie and Abigail agree. Come along.”

A bitter laugh forced its way out of your chest.

“Please, love.”

You lowered your head and, with a lump in the throat, said softly: “Go away, Arthur.”

The gunslinger sighed and did just that. The strange sight made your lips part, ready to take back what you had just said, but no word came out. You clenched your fist.   

Dutch, you thought. Dutch will know what to do.

You abandoned the dishes and headed for your father's tent. Voices escaped from the canvas, and it only took you a second to recognize Micah's. You gritted your teeth. You didn't trust this snake any more than Arthur did, but one rotten apple did not spoil the whole barrel.

Both men fell silent when you came into view.

“Can I talk to you?” you asked Dutch.

“Not now, Kid. Micah got a lead that could be very good for us.”

Although his voice was soft, you couldn't help the pain that lacerated your chest. For the first time, Dutch had dismissed you. Beside him, Micah watched on with a victorious eye.

For a second, your fingers brushed against revolver at your belt, but you quickly recovered and, flashing your most convincing smile, nodded.

As soon as you turned, the facade dropped. You pushed back the tent flap with a trembling hand and, trying to ignore the crack that had just appeared, returned to your bedroll, where nightmares brought you back to the Chicago pier.

This time, no man reached out a hand.

Loyalty knew almost no bound—for only jealousy was a worthy rival and could, piece by piece, unravel the sacred stitches it sewed in hearts.

Micah Bell, more snake than man, had hissed his lies and perfidy into Dutch's sick ear—a modern reincarnation of the Garden of Eden where Eve would not bite the apple. No. This time, the sinner had only one name, ironic as it was.

Father.

The Daughter was and would remain a figure cursed by her sex—apple in the eyes of the Father, turned rotten with the appearance of a Son.

And what a son, you thought as Micah pointed his gun at an emaciated Arthur and a bruised John. A son who had ratted them out to the Pinkertons. A sellout. A traitor.

This thought awakened a rage you had hitherto tried to bury deep within yourself. It bubbled up in your veins and rattled your chest.

Slowly, your fingers slipped to your belt.

“All of you...” Arthur began, his revolver pointed at the crowd. “You pick your side, because this is over. All them years, Dutch... for this snake?”

“Oh, be quiet, cowpoke. Be quiet!”

You could not look away from your father. He hadn't answered. Why hadn’t he answered?

An enraged Susan Grimshaw sided with Arthur and snapped you out of your reverie. The rifle she was holding clashed with the strict image you had built up over the years.

“No. You be quiet, Mr. Bell… and put down your gun.”

“There’s Pinkertons coming, fast.”

Javier's announcement sent the camp into a deadly frenzy. Seizing his chance, Micah shot Mrs. Grimshaw, who collapsed to the ground in a bloodcurdling scream.

 “No!”

You fell to your knees and placed your hands on the gaping wound perforating her stomach.

“No, no, no, no, no... Not again, not again,” you whispered frantically.

You pressed harder on Mrs. Grimshaw's wound as she continued to writhe in pain. 

“Come on. Don’t die on me. Please,” you begged.

Kieran, Sean, Lenny, Hosea... How many friends had you lost? How many more names would join the cursed list? Would you be next?

Why hadn't Dutch answered Arthur's question?

Despite your pleas and efforts, Mrs. Grimshaw soon stopped moving.

When you felt the body exhale against your palm, you froze. As if they had a mind on their own, your hands slid to the muddy ground, now soaked with innocent blood.

You watched on with dull eyes.

“Who amongst you is with me…” Dutch's voice echoed behind her. “And who is betraying me?”

You raised your head and stared into Mrs. Grimshaw's dead eyes. Your hand shook. A few drops of blood dripped from it. You wiped them off on your jeans and clenched your fist before standing up on wobbly legs.

Meanwhile, the camp had divided itself: John and Arthur on one side, Dutch and the rest on the other.

And you, in the middle of this abyss, stood motionless, your chest empty.

It was only when Arthur collapsed in a coughing fit that you came back to life. You rushed to your brother and placed a comforting hand between his shoulder blades.

“Are you alright?”

Arthur's grip on his revolver wavered. The sight, so far removed from the gunslinger you had known all your life, tore at your heart. All had changed. Everyone you’d ever cared about was either a ghost of themselves or a decomposed corpse.

“He's lying... Cowpoke is lying,” Micah taunted, his two revolvers pointed at them.

That was the last straw. You let out an inhuman scream and drew your weapon.

“You!Shut the fuck up! I've had enough of your words!”

A toothy grin appeared on the blond's face.

“Oh... It seems the little one got claws after all.”

“Kid,” Dutch began but you kept your eyes and revolver on the traitor.

It's all his fault.

“Kid, put the gun down and come here,” Dutch ordered in a distracted voice.

No, in a confident voice.

After all, why should a model daughter disobey her father?

For the first time, you hesitated and glanced over your shoulder.

Arthur was watching you, his eyes tired but pleading. You recalled your conversation from weeks earlier.

He's not the same. We both know that.

You turned back to Dutch and searched his eyes for the familiar spark of the early days, but nothing but greed and arrogance swam in those irises.

You bowed your head and admitted defeat.

The Father's image withered before her very eyes. Loyalty evaporated in a second. The blood of the pact coagulated. The heart dried up. Already, the mind was feeling the poison’s effects and destroying the golden images to leave only the cold hard truth.

Suddenly, the choice seemed obvious.

You took a step towards Arthur and John.

“No,”

“What do you mean “no”?” Dutch laughed. “Come here, Kid, or–”

Your blood ran cold. The stitches of loyalty loosened and those of hatred replaced them.

“Or what? You'll shoot me? 

“Cut the crap and get over here, Kid!”

“I ain’t your kid!” you exploded.

Your voice echoed through the clearing. Dutch froze.

You took a deep breath and, hand trembling, pointed your revolver at him.

The sensation of déjà-vu strangled you. All you had to do was close your eyes to be transported to the Chicago pier. You could almost hear the creaking of the merchant ship and Hosea's muttering.

But Hosea is dead.

You tightened your grip on the butt of the revolver. The dozens of blisters covering your hands burst into flames. Dutch was the sole reason for their presence. If you burst them, would the blood of the victims you had killed for him flow?

“You're not my father,” you continued despite your quavering voice. “My father died when he chose to side with this traitor.”

Her index finger left the grip.

“Kid, put the gun down.”

If he'd wanted you to be an obedient daughter, why had he taught you to shoot at seven?

You went over the guard.

Empty lungs.

You exhaled.

A daughter's loyalty to her father knew no bound, except for the one Betrayal erected.

Then, filial rage spared nothing.

Not even the Father.

[gurenpapa]

He’s so scrumptious UUUGGHHHHEE

[bigboy-lovers-unite-writes]

Imagine slapping their asses 🙏🙏

•Dutch; immediately pissed off, depends on who slapped his ass, he might push his cigar into their arm or something out of anger. Will grumble if it's his partner and shoo them away, smokes enough cigarettes after that to take away ten years on his life (it definitely made a camp deafening sound when they slapped it)

•Arthur; the most shocked face ever, just has to stand there for a minute to figure out whatever the fuck just happened. Will stumble over his words, before glaring at the person and chest bump them a few times, but secretly he's nearly popping a boner 💔💔

•John; eye twitches, trying to hold back grabbing his revolver and threatening the person. Says something sarcastic and crosses his arms like the dumb child he is. Will definitely be so damn embarrassed that he flushes as red as Sean's hair. Definitely blabs about it to Abigail later and gets huffy when she laughs

•Hosea; jumps a foot in the air and his body bends like a banana 😭 he's not mad, he'd never get mad, but he is a bit embarrassed about that. He sighs softly, tells a little story about his youth and how he would be able to handle it when he was younger as he rubbed his sore ass, then says he's too old for all that 🫶🫶

•Javier; yells out the loudest Spanish he's ever said, nearly falls forward from the shock of it as both hands go to cover his ass. Can't see it since he pulls his poncho up over his entire face, but he is burning bright red and thinking about it for the rest of the month. Will never trust being around the person again, will side eye them and cover his ass with anything if he's around them again 😢

•Bill; Two different ways this could go. One, he's drunk as a bitch and he hurls a beer bottle them and starts cursing and chasing them all over yelling about how he's no queer, even if it was a woman that slapped his ass, or he will just glare and threaten them a little bit and try to intimidate them if by god he's not drunk

•Kieran; actually stands up straight for once instead of being like a shrimp literally 24/7. Looks like a bug when you pick up a rock, eyes all wide and face flushed even pinker than it usually already naturally is. Definitely looks spaced out the rest of the day, probably can't stop thinking about it for sure

•Sean; gasps and is completely over dramatic, falling and pulling whoever slapped his ass down with him. Definitely tells everyone that the person slapped his ass, and he sounds strangely proud about it too..

•Lenny; poor boy doesn't know what to do, he's stuttering and gripping at his favorite book that he was reading, glancing around as he tried to say something. Might quirk a smile after a while, but it's whenever that person isn't around (he's so embarrassed don't do it again he can't handle it 💔)

•Micah; immediately cracks up and dares the person to slap his ass again, sticking it out slightly. He then promptly slaps that person's ass twenty times harder than they slapped his. It becomes a little game between the two whenever they see each other

•Charles; the absolute politest, might get a bit grumbly. 'oh my' is the first words outta his mouth 😭 will ask them why they did that and if it was supposed to be funny. He's like a mother in this sense, but also can't stop grinning since he actually liked it ❤️

[kayakiki]

HOW DO THEY KISS YOU | Red dead redemption x reader

Characters included: Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Hosea Matthews, Javier Escuella, Lenny Summers, Charles Smith (In this order)

Warning(s): none

Genre: fluff

Arthur Morgan

For a guy so intimidating and confident most of the times, he has troubles speaking to women (Honestly, he is better with horses)

Its not his first kiss, but he’ll stare at your lips like it’s a complicated math equation

He's a lil stupid once it comes to women, he's goofy like that sometimes

I feel like he would ask for permission from you first

“So, um… can I…?”

Yes, babe. You can.

When you kiss him (you lost patience) he is so stiff you might think he had forgotten how to move

But after a few moments, he kisses you back

His kisses are soft, slow, and surprisingly sweet

When he kisses, it’s an interesting mix of contrasts. His large hands—often rough from a lifetime of work and wielding weapons—become surprisingly gentle as he cups your face or pulls you closer

Despite his towering figure, he’s careful not to make you feel overwhelmed. His kiss is slow and deliberate, as though he’s savoring the moment, giving you all the time to melt into him.

He might even blush afterward and nervously mumble something like

"Was that okay?"

(Spoiler: It was amazing)

This man loves you with his whole heart, and he treats you with respect

Dutch Van Der Linde

This cocky, dramatic bastard

He treats every kiss like a grand event. There is no such thing as a casual peck with him—no, every kiss must have intensity, flair, and possibly background music playing somewhere.

His ass really is that dramatic

He announces his intentions very dramaticaly

"Come here love, I have been deprived of your lips for too long"

(Like an hour)

When he kisses you, it's with the same confidence that defines him as a leader

He’s not shy about making the first move, and it’s clear that he knows exactly what he’s doing

His lips are bold against yours, demanding your attention, but it’s never forceful—it’s the kind of kiss that makes you feel wanted, adored, and completely swept up in the moment

He might even dip you slightly, fully expecting you to just go with it

He definitely use his hands (This man can't keep his hands of you)

One on your waist, pulling you closer.

The other gently cupping your face like you’re the protagonist of his favorite romance novel

And afterward? He’ll smirk, brush a thumb over your lips, and say something like

"Ah… exquisite, as always."

Or worse—

"Did that leave you breathless, my love? Or shall I try again?"

(It did leave you breathless)

He sometimes throws his coat over your shoulders and say “You mustn’t catch a cold, my darling” right before kissing you?

You’re dating a historical drama character

John Marston

His kisses often start off rough and impulsive

He'll grab your face with a bit too much force, but it’s always followed by a softer touch once you pull away and glare at him

He realizes he’s being a little too aggressive (never to the point to actually hurt you though, he is just little careless)

It’s a little chaotic at first, but it smooths out into something tender once he settles into the moment

Despite his sarcastic, rough exterior, there’s a surprising sweetness to his kisses

Sometimes they’re slow and deep, as if he’s letting his guard down and showing you the side of him he doesn’t often show

In those moments, the sarcasm and playfulness fades away

Between slow, lingering moments, he'll pull back just enough to flash you a smirk or crack a playful comment, making you laugh before diving right back in, kissing you harder this time, as if he’s trying to win you over all over again

He might be a little reckless, but when he kisses you, there’s a kind of control in the way he pulls you close

He might whisper something sarcastic or teasing into your ear right before a kiss, making you roll your eyes at him

He’s not the type to plan out a romantic moment, but he’ll surprise you with a kiss at random times

Like when you're both laughing at something dumb or when he’s just looking at you for a second too long, his smile softening into something genuine as he leans in and kisses you

He is a little bit of an idiot, but in a good way

Hosea Matthews

He’s a patient man, and his kisses reflect that

When he kisses you, it’s never rushed

He takes his time, savoring every moment, as though he knows good things are worth the wait

His lips are soft and deliberate, moving in slow, sensual rhythms that make you feel cherished with every gentle press

As someone who respects women deeply, he treats you with a kindness and reverence that shows in every kiss.

He might cup your face with his hands, brushing his thumb against your cheek before he leans in.

His kiss is tender, respectful, and never forceful, making you feel safe and cared for in his embrace

Sometimes when he kisses you, there’s a subtle sense of humor, a lightheartedness in the way he pulls away with a smile, teasing you about how he “might” kiss you again, but you’ll have to earn it.

It’s not cocky, just a little playful teasing to keep things fun (in his opinion)

He’s the type to kiss you on the forehead in moments of quiet reflection, a soft gesture that speaks volumes about how much he values your presence

It’s never about passion first

it’s always about the emotion behind the kiss

Javier Escuella

Now let's be honest, Javier is a very romantic and passionate man

His kisses are intense—there’s no beating around the bush with him

When he kisses you, it’s like he’s pouring all his emotions into it, full of fire and passion

His hands will pull you close, his lips eager but still careful, as though every kiss is an opportunity to express just how deeply he feels for you

It's like a blazing flame that never burns out

He’s a man who’s incredibly loyal and protective of you

But even in his possessiveness, there's a tenderness beneath

He often calls you pet names in Spanish— "mi amor,” “mi corazón,” “cariña” before he kisses you, each word wrapped in affection and pride

When he kisses you, it’s not just the kiss that’s passionate; it’s the playful teasing that comes with it

He might pull you in for a kiss, only to stop just before your lips meet, giving you a smirk before finally sealing it with a passionate kiss

If someone dares to flirt with you, you’ll see a whole new side of him in his kisses. He’ll kiss you fiercely, almost as if to mark his claim

While kissing, his hands are placed on your waist, holding you in place, as if he’s making sure you know how much he values you.

He’s proud to have you as his, and it shows in the way he kisses you

Beneath his fiery exterior, there’s a side of him that’s surprisingly tender.

After a heated kiss, he might rest his forehead against yours, just taking a moment to breathe together.

His hands will caress your face gently, almost as if he’s trying to hold onto that moment of peace

When he kisses you, it’s not just to show affection, it’s because he’s fighting for your heart.

He wants you to know that he’s loyal and steadfast in his love for you, and his kisses are always filled with that promise

You might get a kiss full of passion after a difficult moment or a kiss that’s a little extra when he’s feeling especially proud of you

Either way, he’ll make sure to show you that you mean the world to him

Lenny Summers

At first, his kisses are a bit shy and uncertain

He’s incredibly intelligent and quick-witted, but when it comes to showing his feelings, he gets a little nervous

His hands might tremble slightly as he cups your face, but the warmth in his kiss makes up for the hesitation

His kisses are soft and gentle at first, almost as if he’s testing the waters, unsure of whether he’s doing it right but fully invested in the moment

Despite his shy side, he has a playful nature, and that’s reflected in his kisses

If you laugh or smile at him, he’ll get all flustered, but he’ll still find a way to make it lighthearted

Maybe he’ll steal a kiss quickly, then tease you about how your reaction made him nervous

His kisses are full of energy, but they always carry a humorous edge to keep things fun

When he’s in a more serious mood, his kisses reflect his calm and introspective nature

He won’t rush things or make them too intense; instead, his kisses are slow, deliberate, and filled with thoughtfulness

You can feel how much he’s thinking about you, and how much he wants to express his feelings, even if he can’t always say the right words

It’s the kind of kiss that makes you feel deeply cared for and appreciated

Charles Smith

His kisses are always gentle and sincere, as he takes great care to never rush or force anything

He is the kind of person who is patient, so when he kisses you, it feels like a carefully thought-out moment of affection

It’s a soft, lingering kiss, full of warmth and tenderness, as if he’s savoring the connection

He’s a man of honor, and that extends into how he treats you. His kisses are never about trying to impress or overwhelm you

Instead, he ensures that every kiss feels like an act of respect

He might gently hold your face in his hands, guiding you to him with a soft touch, letting you know how much he cherishes you without saying a word

In his kisses, you can feel the depth of his protective nature

He never wants you to feel alone, and when he kisses you, it’s almost as if he’s silently reassuring you that he’s there for you, always

His kisses have a way of calming your heart and giving you the courage to face anything, because you know he has your back

Despite his quiet nature, when he kisses you, there’s a sense of quiet confidence that emanates from him

He doesn’t need grand gestures to show his feelings; his kisses are enough

Even in the most intimate moments, he remains respectful and considerate of your boundaries

He takes the time to understand what you like, what makes you feel safe and loved, and adjusts his approach accordingly

His kisses are always in tune with your comfort level, making you feel treasured in every way

[cowboyfromh3ll]

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

<3

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way

[marttapav]

assortment of doodles 🦶🏼

[chiaravnik]

the way i want dutch van der linde, arthur morgan and john marston to hug me

[moonlightkitties]

Van der Linde Gang boys when you fall asleep on their shoulder.

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

Arthur Morgan

Doesn't try to move you. He's glad you feel safe enough to fall asleep on him. His cheeks are most definitely red but at least no one can notice because of the fire.

Bill Williamson

Like Arthur, he doesn't try to move you, he will wrap his arm around your body and move you closer towards him though. His big body and the campfire help you warm up and stay asleep.

John Marston

He tenses up once he feels your head fall on his shoulder and he does try to move you but when you grumble and tell him that you're comfortable, he stops. He relaxes once he realizes there's no way he's getting out of this without waking you up and he really doesn't want to live with the consequences.

Dutch Van der Linde

Gets really cocky once you fall asleep. Will sit their with the smuggest face and puff out his chest a little. He thinks that this is a sign of his authority and control, as if you’re so comfortable around him that you trust him completely. Deep down though, he is glad that you really trust him enough to lean on him.

Kieran Duffy

Face becomes completely red it looks like the campfire gave him third degree burns. Tenses up and moves around a little until he realizes that you're fast asleep and comfortable so he stops. He relaxes into you and accidently falls asleep with you and gets made fun of by Sean and Bill.

Sean MacGuire

Like Dutch, he gets cocky as well. He'll crack a few jokes about how you think he's "so irresistible" that you fall asleep on him. Secretly, though, his very nervous about waking you up and a little bit protective that he wraps an arm around you.

Micah Bell

He's immediately uncomfortable. He's not used to someone, especially someone like you, getting close to him (he's not used to close contact anyways). Still, he doesn't want to wake you but you can be sure he is going to tease and act upset with you when you wake up.

Charles Smith

Isn't surprised at all and doesn't mind. He knew you were exhausted with the weight Grimshaw and Dutch were putting on you so he let you sleep. He'll position himself to where you're more comfortable and even carry you back to your tent when you're deep asleep.