#josiah trelawny one shot

[mlmxreader]

Worry | Josiah Trelawny x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: oh my gosh, i just recently came across your blog and it’s amazing, its like my holy grail - your writing is so great and i treasure the mlm content so much.

and if you’re still doing the prompt list, could i request "It looks good on you" with trelawny?

summary: you and Josiah are always together, and although he knows you've got the skills to handle yourself, he can't help but to worry - especially when you get hurt.

tws: gun mentions, injury

Even though your loyalties did lie with Arthur Morgan, you were still just as guilty as Josiah when it came to running off, and usually, you went with him, although sometimes you went off on your own; you would always come back to the gang, though, you would always end up sitting with Hosea at the fire or going for a ride with Lenny or telling Arthur about all the animals you had seen while he drew them in his journal or helping Charles to make different kinds of arrows. But you were never far from Josiah, not once, and when you stayed at camp together, you shared the same tent; when you were off on your little wanders, you always shared the same space, and it wasn't rare for you to use your relationship as a romantic couple during your little scams, either.

You and Josiah, practically inseparable in every sense of the word. And the entire gang knew it, too. They knew that if they wanted to speak to you, they'd have to suffer Trelawny as well; they knew that, and it was just a fact that nobody really thought twice about - nobody really seemed to mind. Nobody batter an eye, it had always been like that, it wouldn't change; but even when you went out with the guys, usually Charles or Lenny, and you came back covered in blood and dirt and fuck knew what else, it was always Josiah who pushed everyone aside so that he could make sure you were alright.

It was one of those times when you and Josiah were staying at camp for a while, and Charles and Lenny had asked for your assistance with a robbery, which you were more than happy to do; but when the homeowner turned out to actually be there, a fight had broken out, and you had caught your arm, resulting in your sleeve ripping and a particularly nasty cut across your skin. Charles had patched it up, which you thanked him profusely for, but when you got back to camp and Josiah saw, he was immediately at your side.

"Are you alright? How bad is it? What-"

"I patched the wound up," Charles told him, holding by the shoulders while you got down from your horse. "(y/n) will be fine."

"Yeah, Charles ought to be a doctor," you joked softly. "I'm fine, though. Honestly."

Josiah frowned, offering you his arm so that you could walk with him. "Are you sure? I can take you to a surgeon or-"

"Josiah," you grumbled, shaking your head. "I'm alright. It's not that deep, Charles took a look at it. It's not that bad."

He didn't quite believe you, but he trusted Charles and he trusted Charles' opinion on the matter, so he dropped the subject as he walked you back to your shared tent; he was tender as he helped you to undo your shirt and to shrug it off.

"Wear this," he said gently, pressing one of his soft waistcoats into your hands. "You don't want to suffocate the wound once it scabs over."

You pulled it on, but didn't bother to do it up, and when you caught Josiah looking at your chest, you raised a brow. "What?"

"Nothing, just..." he shrugged, licking his lips and daring to smile. "It looks good on you. You look very handsome."

Josiah was still very much careful with you as he sat down next to you, pulling out a little cigarette card from his pocket and showing it to you; he had picked it up when you hadn't been looking, and he knew that you would appreciate it more than he did. It was a little bent, but the little picture of a bullsnake on it was still so clear; he smiled when you took it from him.

"Where'd you get this?"

"I simply acquired it," he told you. "I thought you would like it, so I kept it in my pocket until you got back."

You rested your head on his shoulder after you stuffed the card into your pocket, sighing softly as you grumbled, daring to press a quick kiss to his neck that has him blushing and stuttering. "You can be so damn adorable sometimes, Josiah."

Slowly and with great caution, he put his arm around your shoulders, careful not to touch the wound on your arm as he ran his hand up and down your bicep. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Very," you chuckled. "You don't need to worry."

"It's hard not to," he admitted quietly. "I know you're very skilled with that revolver of yours, but it's hard not to worry."

"I know," you hummed. "But I had Charles and Lenny with me - you know the three of us make a damn good team."

"And that's what worries me most," he confessed. "If the three of you got into more trouble than you could handle... what would I do?"

"Probably get Hosea to give us all an earful about being more careful."

"Yes, more than likely."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - do not just leave a "like", REBLOG IT. you may also leave feedback in the form of asks, tags, etc which is greatly appreciated, but you SHOULD reblog it regardless.

[wizard-on-whales]

A Fine Night For Debauchery (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

NSFW - Minors do NOT interact

Warnings: near drowning, Arthur is a cheeky bastard (Who also gets a raging boner when he sees boobies), lots of teasing...I mean LOTS, filthy shameless smut, fingering, P in V, unprotected sex, pet names

Word Count - 3k

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Trelawny. Goddamn Josiah Trelawny. You blamed him for the impure thoughts that were keeping you up. Not that they were about the man himself but that dress he made you wear. You and Arthur were the main distraction for the Riverboat mission you had been sent on. The two of you were playing a newlywed couple there to win a little extra money for the success of your marriage. And to rub your “riches” in since Arthur had recently hit a score in the oil business. None of that was true, of course. And it wasn't the first time you and Arthur had been paired together for a mission where you had to pretend to be a couple, but tonight seemed more intimate.

You sat on his lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulder while he played the poker game. You could feel Arthur shifting under you now and then, his eyes subtly glancing down at your chest that was practically shoved in his face. The dress that Trelawny had picked out for you was extremely tight and revealing. Your corset pushed your breasts up to the point they were practically spilling out of the top. And although you usually wore low-cut dresses, you never wore corsets. You found them to be too claustrophobic, so you avoided them. You felt uncomfortable in the thing; it was digging into your sides and seemed to be a size too small. The feeling of it cutting into you caused you to squirm often, and every time you moved, Arthur flinched a little, sucking in a breath. At first, you thought he was shifting from your weight; maybe he was just trying to get more comfortable under you and the unnecessarily heavy dress you wore. But once you realized why he was actually shifting, you felt hot. If the makeup you wore wasn't as heavy as the dress, everyone would have been able to see how red your cheeks were burning. 

Once he had won the game and got up to collect his reward, tension seemed to be released from his shoulders. You assumed he was uncomfortable, not wanting to be seen as just another one of those men. He wasn't, you knew that. Things like that weren't controllable, so you washed it off as just the compromised position you had been sitting in for so long. 

All of those thoughts were quickly thrown out of your brain when shots were fired. You ducked behind the bar and pulled your skirt up, pulling your gun out where it had been nestled on your thigh the whole night. Once the coast was clear, everyone made a run for it. You, Arthur, Javier, Trelawny, and Strauss jumped off the side of the boat and started swimming for shore. The only problem was your dress made it impossible to swim. As soon as you hit the water, it quickly weighed you down, getting heavier the more water it absorbed. 

“God damn this dress!” Your arms flailed as you panicked, hardly being able to keep your head above the water. Arthur noticed your distress and swam towards you, helping to keep you up,” Get this thing off of me!”

Arthur tugged at everything he could, trying to untie the corset and undo buttons, but they weren't coming undone quickly enough.  

“How the hell am I supposed to do that!” He started to panic as you continued to struggle in his arms. He was able to unhook the front of your corset, pushing it off before seeing the maze of strings that held your dress up.

“I don't know, figure it out!” Arthur hesitated for a moment before grabbing the seams sitting against your breasts and ripping the fabric. One hard jerk was all it took for the dress to come off. He pulled you flush against him with one arm and pushed the rest of the dress down your legs. 

“That works,” you felt your cheeks flush red. You still had your undergarments on, and despite wearing them around camp often at night, you had never felt more exposed in front of the man. Although you could swim on your own now, Arthur still kept his arm firm around your waist as the two of you swam to shore together. 

Now here you were, lying on your bedroll, staring at the rotting ceiling above you. Your hair was still damp from the water, and although you had changed out of your wet bloomers into a nightgown, your skin was still cold to the bone. Your mind was flooded with impure thoughts you were trying desperately to get rid of. With Dutch being your brother, you had known Arthur the whole time he had been in the gang. He was 14 when Dutch and Hosea found him, and you were 12. Although you had always found him attractive, you would have never admitted to having a crush on him.

The two of you were close, supposed to be like family, but as you continued to lay there, you questioned if your relationship had ever been like that. The constant subtle touches, the occasional flirty banter, the few times the two of you had slept in each other's arms looking for warmth or comfort. Nothing inappropriate had happened those nights you slept next to each other, but now you couldn't help but wish something had... 

The thought of Arthur ripping your dress off so easily made your cheeks burn again. You let out a heavy sigh before getting up from your bed roll and making your way up the creaky, old stairs of Shady Bell. Your heart pounded with each step you took. You stopped in front of Arthur's door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. Arthur was sitting up on his bed, journal in his hand. He looked up before quickly closing it and clearing his throat a little. You noticed his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. 

“You alright?” He asked, standing up and putting the journal on his map table. You still stood in the doorway, your hand sitting on the knob. 

“I uh…,” You looked away from him and out the broken window, trying to form a thought. He stepped closer, which clouded your brain even more,” Never mind.” 

Just as you went to step away, Arthur grabbed you. His hands placed firmly on both of your arms as he kicked the door shut. Your heart rate picked up as you looked up at him. Arthur was looked down at you in a way he had never done before. Like a predator stalking its prey. Your brain finally formed a sentence as you stared at the burning desire behind his eyes. 

“I need you, Arthur,” the words came out quiet.

“Im a bad man, darlin’,” His voice was just as low. You moved your arms slightly, and he immediately let you go. You wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him down slightly. 

“You know Im worse,” Your eyes were fixed on his lips as yours hovered above them. Arthur dropped his head, his lips hungrily devouring yours. He stepped back, dragging you with him, his lips still on yours. He pulled you with him until the back of his legs hit his bed. He pulled away from you, a strand of saliva following as he did. 

“You sure you wanna do this, girl?” His words seemed genuine as he stared at your eyes and lips. 

“I've never been more sure,” You pushed his shoulders down, making him sit on the edge of his bed. Stepping back a few feet, you grabbed the bottom of your nightgown and pulled it over your head, throwing it onto the floor next to your feet. Arthur's eyes gazed over every inch of your body, drinking in your features like you were a smooth glass of whiskey.

“Come here,” you stepped closer, your legs against his. His rough hands immediately went to the back of your legs; one stayed put with a heavy grip. The other drug up your leg to your stomach until it was grazing dangerously close to your breast, “ Sit.” 

You obeyed. You were a rough woman yourself... hell, probably more ruthless than Arthur. You almost never took orders from anyone, not even your own brother. Anyone who told you what to do would get a gun in their face, and it often ended with their brains on a wall. But here you were doing exactly what Arthur was telling you to. Like a dog eager for a treat. You sat on his lap, straddling him. Arthur smirked, his thumb swiping over your nipple. You wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned down, kissing him feverishly. Your hands grabbed his suspenders and pushed them off of his shoulders. You leaned back and started to unbutton his shirt. While you did, Arthur's eyes never left your face, his hands slightly roamed your body, feeling every curve he could. Once the final button was undone, Arthur took the shirt off and threw it to the side. Your hands immediately went to his chest, feeling him up and down. 

He knew you watched him whenever he would do chores around camp. The way his muscles flexed through his shirt when he carried the hay bales or threw bags over his shoulders. And your eyes would never once leave him if he was chopping wood. His shirt off, suspenders hanging from his hips, just like they were now. His back and arms flexing with every swing. He wouldn't look at you while you stared, but he could feel your eyes burning a hole in him. And oftentimes it would end in Miss Grimshaw yelling at you to get back to work. You were staring at him the same way now, the same hungry look in your eyes burning a hole through him. 

Arthur couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed and shy about it, his cheeks flushing slightly, but you didn't care. You leaned back down to kiss him again, hands still roaming his chest and memorizing every defined muscle on his arms. His own hands still wandered your body as he moved one from her breast and her heat. One finger dragged slowly up her cunt causing you to let out a quiet whine. 

“God,” He groaned into your mouth, “Yer’ soaked, and I've hardly even touched ya. Whatchu’ been thinkin’ about, girl.” He removed his mouth from yours, his finger still barely touching your heat.

“You,” You breathed quietly, “The way you-” he pushed a finger inside of you, cutting off your words as you moaned. 

“What about me,” He smirked, his mouth hovered right above yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“The way you ripped my dress off…so,” he pulled his finger out and pushed two in this time, “God- so easily.” 

“I've been thinkin' bout’ that all night too, darlin’. Can't sleep because of me? Can't sleep because you've been thinkin' about fuckin’ me? Hmm?” He picked up his pace, his two fingers moving quickly, his thumb barely grazing your clit. You dropped your head to his shoulder, mouth open, but nothing came out. You knew you had to be quiet, or someone would hear. There may have been walls, but they were thin and rotting, and the broken window didn't help, “Is that it, Darlin? Gotta answer me, or I'll stop.” 

“God, yes. Please, Arthur,” You let out another quiet moan, biting his shoulder slightly to muffle it. He groaned as you bit down, his hips moving slightly to ease his own throbbing heat.

“Please, what?” His teasing frustrated you, but your brain was too clouded to tell him off. 

“Fuck me, Arthur, please.” That was all it took. He pulled his fingers out and flipped you onto the bed so that he was on top. Your hands quickly went to his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down his hips slightly. Your finger traced his hip bones and V-line. He sat back up and pulled them off the rest of the way. 

“So eager…all for me,” He leaned down, whispering in your ear before planting a wet kiss on your collarbone. He placed a heavy hand on the base of his cock, pumping it a few times and letting out a groan before lining it up with your entrance. 

He pushed into you slowly, both of you letting out a sigh. Arthur dropped his head to your chest, kissing one of your breasts as he bottomed you out. The man was large on every term, towered over most men in height, could easily toss anyone over his shoulder, so it was no surprise he was blessed below the belt too. 

“You alright?” He looked you in the eyes, letting you adjust to his size before continuing. You nodded your head and bit your lip slightly, “That ain't gonna work, darlin'. Use your words.” 

“Yes,” He connected his lips to yours once again and slowly moved his hips. You moaned into his mouth as he moved quicker, “Please, Arthur. Faster.” You threw your head back against the hard mattress. 

“You like it rough, don't ya,” Arthur groaned as his hips continued to hit yours, picking up his pace. You couldn't speak, only nod your head and let out another strangled moan, “ I should've known, you dirty girl.” The noises coming from between your legs were filthy, getting messier as Arthur's strokes became more desperate. 

“God, Arthur,” You moaned his name, your hands pulling at his hair. He clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“Yeah, that feel good?” He asks, his tone mocking her slightly, “Gotta be quiet unless you want the whole camp knowin’ how much of a whore you are.” He grunted, pulling one of your legs up further and kissing your neck. He bit down on the soft skin on your collarbone, trying to mask his own noises. The coil in your stomach tightened, your legs wrapping tighter against him. Arthur could tell you were close, so he steadied his pace, wanting you to finish before him. He lifted his head from your shoulder and watched your face as you got closer. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet, pulling yourself closer to Arthur as your back arched. Your breathing got heavier as you let out a breathless moan, your nails digging into Arthur's scalp. You let go, feeling everything in your body tighten before immediately relaxing. Arthur pulled out, his hand desperately finishing what had been started, wishing his hand was your warm walls. You watched as he finished, groaning to himself as his filth leaking out onto your stomach. 

“Jesus,” He let out quietly, leaning forward to kiss you. You wiped the loose strands of hair that stuck to his forehead out of his face. He pulled back, looking at you. This time instead of being full of lust, he looked at you with the sweetest eyes, a slight smile on his face. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, drunk on each other. He sat up slightly, grabbed his shirt off of the floor, and cleaned you up, “Shit, yer shakin’, darlin’.” 

“I'll be okay,” You planted a small kiss on his forehead and wrapped your arms around his shoulders again, pulling him closer as he finished cleaning you up. He layed down next to you, wrapping his heavy arm around your middle. Your back was against his chest, his face buried in your hair. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” Arthur said quietly, placing a small kiss on the back of your head. You smiled slightly to yourself, resting your hand on his arm. 

“You been havin’ dirty thoughts bout me for a while, Cowboy?” You teased him slightly, his arm wrapping tighter around you. 

“The filthiest,” You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed your neck. 

“Well, I guess you'll just have to tell me all about them, so I make sure they come true.” You turned in his arms so that you were facing him.

“I won't say no to that,” Arthur leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, “But for now, I just wanna hold you and get some sleep.” He gave you a soft smile, and you agreed with him. Both of you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of each other's arms once again, only this time, the night hadn't been innocent.

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[creamqueen]

inspired by a conversation between me and oomf i will be ranking the vdl gang from best to worst based on how good i think they'd be at badminton

Sadie Adler - I have the feeling that sadie would be an absolute unit in badminton , idfk why I just get that vibe from her , she has a MEAN backhand and is insanely good at smashing. ( off topic i need her to yell at me during a match )

Tilly Jackson - next to sadie i just get the feeling that tilly jackson would make a meaaan badminton player , i feel like she would play more on tactics , she somehow still looks flawless after every match too.

Lenny Summers - i feel like he would get into it as a casual hobby but somehow get super good at it , like tilly i feel like he'd play more on tactics , if you ever give him a smash though he's returning it 3x as hard .

Javier Escuella - i have the feeling he wouldnt be as good at serving but when it comes to his strikes ??? he's so good it's sort of scary. sometimes he gets hits in that you don't even think possible but he pulls it off anyway and it leaves u confused

Charles Smith - Charles would be a more casual player but if u challenge him ?? hes locking tf in , i feel like he'd make a MEAAAAN defense, he'd make a good teacher though.

Abigail Roberts - Abigail wouldn't have that much time to play badminton cause of Jack but if u ever challenged her/teamed up with her she'd be another great defense .

Karen Jones - i get the feeling that Karen wouldn't play as much but when she does every single one of her serves would be so flawless and hard for u to hit , they never land outside too, its always far enough from u to not be able to hit and close enough to not land outside .

Micah Bell - i'm ashamed to say it but i get the feeling that when he wants to be micah would be an absolute offensive unit , his only flaw being sometimes he hits too hard and lands outside .

Mary-Beth - Mary-Beth would be more of a casual player i believe , i get the feeling she'd be an amazing teammate to have though , she always comes in clutch .

Hosea Matthews - another casual player , i feel like hosea would only play if it was a casual back and forth , he usually only plays drives or lobs ... he's too old to play a fast game .

Molly O'shea - another casual player , molly would prefer to just watch but she's good enough to play a casual round or 2 , her weakness is back hands though ...

Arthur Morgan - i feel like arthur wouldn't be too interested in badminton ... he doesn't like moving too fast but i do feel like he'd like playing defensive every now and then .

Sean Mcguire - he'd only play with lenny cause when he's not he's missing every shot , he'd hit a shot or too but it either hits the outline of the racket and doesn't land past the net , it hits too hard and lands outside , or it just lands outside of the court completely .

Keiran Duffy - i feel like he'd see how fast the game goes and just chicken out ... if u offered him a casual back and forth tho i feel like he'd go for it ... just don't expect him to hit all his shots .

John Marston - He's doing so much yet nothing at the same damn time , he's shuffling all around the court doing useless turns , he jumps high as hell just to miss the shuttlecock entirely .

Dutch van der linde - he either doesn't gaf or he's taking it too seriously , when he does , he turns red and there's veins bulging out of his forehead , if he misses a shot he yells as if it was your fault , if you hit a strike he wasn't expecting u to he's too angry to hit it back , he's making new rules up out of thin air , if he serves and it lands outside he's gonna gaslight u into thinking it counts as his point .

Josiah Trelawny - he doesn't like how sweaty it makes him , that and he doesn't realize it's a game where u have to actively move , he just stands still in one place and waits for your serve to reach him . he says he's not missing his shots just that your serves are bad .

Reverend Swanson - he would not like how fast the game goes , he hits a shot then sees how fast it's returned and can't register it fast enough to hit it back . he can't handle fast paced games .

Simon Pearson - he gets super sweaty super quick so he wouldn't want to play , he'd be very enthusiastic abt it though even though he's not all that good at it ...

Susan Grimshaw - she wouldn't opt to play cause she doesn't like how much u have to move around , like hosea she likes a slow back and forth though , she still misses most of her shots sadly .

Bill Williamson - he's missing all his shots entirely and smashing his racket which leaves a huge dent so he can't even play anymore .

Uncle - he played once . ONE TIME . and he accidentally let go of the racket trying to serve and it flew and hit John in the face .

Strauss - he's sitting on the sidelines critiquing everyones every move ( he can't play for shit but he doesn't wanna talk abt that )

Jack Marston - he just wants to watch . trust he will be rooting for his momma when she plays though .

[soup-14]

Dutch Van Der Linde x gn!Reader

Summary: You and the boys go on a job in Saint Denis and end up hiding from the law.

Warnings: smoking, violence, mild cursing, Dutch mentioning mangoes.

“Trelawny got a tip about some sort of secret operation. It's in the basement of a saloon, in Saint Denis.” You say leaning up against the post of Dutch’s tent. “Said it should be easy. Sneak in the back door, down the stairs, quietly take out any threats, grab the cash, sneak back out, split up.”

Dutch stands from his chair and pulls a cigar from a small box on his shelf. He holds it in his teeth and reaches for his matchbox. He opens it only to find it empty, he growls and tosses it aside.

He turns back towards you, a scowl now set on his brow, only to be met with a lit match held out to him. He shields the cigar and leans towards the match in your fingers. Once lit you shake out the flame and toss the old match into the grass. Dutch removes the cigar from his teeth and blows out a puff of thick smoke. “It sounds too easy. Could be a setup, who told him about it?”

You shrug. “Josiah’s got strange connections you know that.”

Dutch hums and steps out of his tent. “Let’s see what Hosea has to say.” He walks to one of the large wooden tables and leans over the map splayed out on its surface.

Hosea sits in a wooden chair at the table already examining the map. “What have you got for us now Dutch?” He asks.

“I would say ask Trelawny but he’s already disappeared again.”

“As he does.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think it’s worth a shot, bring with you some… quieter folk and I think you could get it done.”

“Alright then. I say we hit it Sunday morning, when business is slower, all them fancy folk will be in church.”

Come early Sunday morning, Dutch, Arthur, Javier and yourself mount up. All of you dressed in slightly more cleaned up clothes. The ride to Saint Denis is short, and soon your posse rides through its golden gates.

There are people out on the streets, stages and wagons a plenty, but as Dutch suspected most folks were headed toward various churches around the city. The perfect way to distract from you and your boys.

You ride slow and casual through the streets, leading the way to the cash. You decide to hitch your horses at the end of the block and head through the alley on foot.

Once reaching the back door of the saloon, you try the handle, locked.

“Here let me.” Javier pulls a lock pick from his coat and swiftly gets the door open, which squeaks lightly as it opens. You all cringe at the sound and Arthur hurries inside making sure the way is clear. He gives the signal and the rest of you tiptoe inside. You draw your throwing knifes and creep down the cellar stairs.

Around the corner you can see three men sitting around a table, two towards the back and one on a couch with a woman. Lemoyne Raiders, and they all have guns.

You look at Dutch letting him make the first move. He draws a throwing knife and signals to take out the men at the table, for Arthur to take the two in back and Javier the others.

He counts three… two… one… on his fingers, then hell breaks loose.

You throw two knifes quick, killing two men at the table. Dutch gets the third between the eyes. Arthur and Javier rush the others. Javier kills his man just fine but the lady is screaming and he doesn’t know if he should kill her or not, he decides to let her go. Arthur is able to get one of his guys with a knife in the neck but the other had just enough time to draw his gun.

The shot goes off splitting the previous silence in the room. The bullet nearly misses Arthur and lodges itself into the war wall. Arthur draws his cattleman fast and shoots him a few times in the gut. “Goddamn it.” He curses. “The law will have heard that.”

“You’re right,” says Dutch “we have to move quick, where the money?”

The four of you rumage through the room stashing whatever valuables you can find. Pocket watches, some jewelry, $15, crackers, cigarettes…

“Aha.” Dutch exclaims from across the room. “This should be it.” Dutch heaves a huge lockbox onto the table and fiddles with the lock. “Javier, would you be so kind?” Javier reaches for his lock pick again.

Once the lock clicks free he opens the lid to reveal large wads of the sweet green you were looking for. Each of you takes a couple stacks in your satchels, hurry back upstairs, and out the back door.

“We split up from here.” Says Dutch “conceal the money, stay out of sight, don’t head straight back to camp.”

You all nod in response and go your separate ways.

The sound of lawmen shouting and blowing their whistles echos across Saint Denis. You keep close to the shadows and try to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. You turn down a dark alleyway, trying to keep your path untraceable. You hold up against a wall, taking a short break, waiting for the lawmen to settle down.

You continue down the winding alley and around a corner, keeping your gun tight in your hand. You turn your back for less than a second when the sound of a gun being cocked behind you.

Your heart stops in your chest and your breath hitches. “Stick em up.” says the perpetrator. You know that voice, Dutch. You place your gun in its holster and raise your hands slowly, turning towards him. “Now Dutch, you wouldn’t shoot me would you?”

A breath escapes his lips as your face comes into view. "My Dear." Dutch quickly holsters his gun and steps towards you. Hands still raised you walk to him and drape your arms over his shoulders. He places his large hands on your waist and pulls your body to his.

"Gave me quite a fright there Darlin'." Says Dutch.

"I knew it was you, Dutch. Only one mans gotta voice like that."

Dutch chuckles deeply and places a firm kiss on your lips. "Are you alright?" He asks once pulling away.

"Of course. You?"

"More than that. We've just got a decent score My Love, I can smell the mangoes from here."

"I sure damn hope so Van Der Linde." You laugh. "Now let's get outa here while we can."

"Agreed." Dutch pulls you in for another kiss, then grabs your hands and leads you through the alley.

AN: Thanks for reading. I didn't know how to end this one lmao.

[21witnokidz]

IN THE GHETTO

Chapter 22

Warning: Smut

“I’m ready to get outta this damn snow!” You complained.

“There’s a lot of things I can do dear girl, but changing the weather is not one of them” Dutch explained.

You could hear Abigail begging Arthur to go and look for John.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Micah killed him before he got back here” you half joked.

“You got a problem with me girl?” Micah threatened.

“Yea I do-“

“Well no one gives two shits about you bitchin’ and moanin’ about whatever it is you bitch and moan about behind my back”

“You watch your damn mouth!” Arthur growled.

“Woah there cowpoke. Just because you’re fucking her don’t mean you gotta get aggressive”

“The nerve of all three of you!” Hosea yelled. “One of our members are stuck out there and we need to bring them back. Y/n and Arthur you go with Javier to retrieve John. Micah sit down and leave everyone alone”

“Hey to be fair that bitch came at me first. If she never said anything we wouldn’t have a problem” Micah put his hands up.

You went to lung at him but Arthur held you back and dragged you outside with Javier behind.

“Some morning huh?” He chuckled.

“Exactly! It’s literally 7 in the morning! The day just started and he’s already starting shit”

-

“This way. Last I know, John was headed up the river” Javier lead.

You guys made it up a mountain and started calling for him.

Not long after you found John on a ledge.

“Little John” you greeted him.

“Look can you just make fun of me later so we can get the hell outta here?”

You and Javier helped John onto Arthur’s shoulder and walked to the horses.

From the corner of your eyes you could notice a pack of wolves coming down the mountain.

“I got it” you took out your shotgun and shot the wolves while the boys got John on a horse.

“Y’know John we ought a put a whistle on you for whenever you get lost from the gang” you joke.

“Or when you try to run away again” Arthur includes.

“Y’all will never let me live that down will you?”

“It was a dick move John”

“And I apologized for it. Besides didn’t you say you two would work on each other?” John referred to you and Arthur working on your relationship.

“Just go to sleep Marston”

Blackwater

“Josiah Trelawny” you greeted Trelwany who was laying on his stomach looking at the prison in front of him. A few of us were in blackwater now ready to get Sean back.

“Ike skelding’s boys are moving him to a camp nearby”

You all came up with a plan to just go to the camp and get Sean while Josiah makes a distraction.

“How’s the family Josiah?” Arthur asked.

“Not too bad. What about you? We’re around the same age yet you’re not even married”

“Well I guess there’s a time for everything”

Josiah went down to make his distraction while you, Arthur and Javier went up the mountain taking out the guards.

Finally you got to Sean Maguire. You cut him loose and untied his hands.

“Miss y/n. Still as pretty as a picture”

“Oh don’t let Molly hear you say that”

“But it’s true. Or are you just saying that because Charles is here and you don’t want to make him jealous” Sean was aware of your past relationship because the girls in the gang love to gossip “was it Charles or Arthur? I always get them mixed up”

“Sean there’s nothing that means more to me than this gang. It’s the realest thing to me. I would kill for it and I would happily die for it” Arthur put his hand on the young man’s shoulder “but I would’ve left you here to rot if Charles hadn’t stopped me”

“I don’t believe a word of that”

Then Sean just went on about how Arthur was a good man. Of course Arthur denied it. You hated how Arthur would talk to himself sometimes it really made you upset because of how much he meant to you.

“Alright you all go on back to camp. Me and y/n will catch up” Arthur sent them.

“Come on Arthur what are we doing harboring an O’Driscoll?” You demanded to know why Arthur had bring back an O’Driscoll boy named Kieran Duffy “and to put more salt in the wound, our newest girl hates O’Driscolls”

“Well that’s great maybe you and her can play pin the donkey with him”

“Pin the donkey?”

“Yea. Y’know cause he’s Irish and you can pin him with a knife- oh forget it”

“No Arthur it was just a bad pun. If you can even call it that”

“It wasn’t bad you just need everything to be explained to you”

Back at camp

Sean was finally back and everything was the same again. He was telling some stupid joke that didn’t even make sense but you didn’t care. Sean was naturally funny and that’s why you enjoyed having him around.

Everyone was having a good time and you saw Javier sitting at a table writing something.

“What’s that Javier?”

“Nothing!”

You looked and saw a quick glance of his paper. All the words were written in Spanish but you saw Tilly’s name a few times.

“Are you writing about Tilly”

“Hey” he looked around “let’s just keep this between us ok?”

“Oh my god you’re writing poetry? I never knew you were sweet on her”

“No one can know. It’s already embarrassing enough”

“Let me help you. I’ll go tell her to give you a chance right now”

“No!” He grabbed your arm “you can’t say anything especially to her. Promise me”

“Ok fine” you stuck your pinky out.

“I don’t get it what’s with the pinky?”

“You’re supposed to link yours with mine. To seal a promise”

“Must be an American thing” he shrugged and linked his pinky with yours.

“But I won’t forget about this. We’ll talk later”

You got up to look for Arthur. You haven’t seen him the whole night. You just found him in his cot writing in his journal as usual.

Before the Blackwater incident, Mary-Beth had suggested Arthur try journaling since he didn’t like talking about his problems he could just write them down.

“Arthur” you made your presence known.

“Hey I’m just finishing up” you looked to see him drawing a picture of a wolf. Identical to the one we saw on the mountain.

“I don’t know how you’re so good at this”

“Me neither. But it’s really calming” he closed his book and set it aside.

“You really think we could make it back to blackwater and get that money?”

“Hell no. But lord knows Dutch won’t dare forget about it. I just wish I could’ve saved a little some of it for the gang”

“It’s not just your fault we were all there”

“No I should’ve done something. I don’t know… nowadays I just kinda feel useless. You know how back in the day I used to be this gang’s most useful asset. Now I’m like a firefighter helping people get outta mess”

“It’s not like that. People just trust you is all”

“You even heard Josiah. I ain’t married yet. Do you think.. maybe we’ve been wasting our lives with this?” He said referring to the gang.

“No. I mean we’re all a family and we have each other. You don’t have to marry people to live your life. And that’s coming from a woman”

“There’s just this clock inside me that’s been ticking ever since. Like I need to discover something soon”

You stopped him and kissed him on the lips.

He looked at you in the eyes and you stared back.

He grabbed your jaw and kissed you this time.

“I could feel a clock ticking too. I’m done beating around the bush with you Arthur”

You slammed your lips on his again.

“Let’s go someplace else”

He led you into the forest away from the party.

You walked to a tree and leaned your back against it. Arthur stared at you like you were his meal and walked slowly towards you.

He grabbed your hips and pulled them to his and he began softly kissing your neck.

“I missed this. I missed you so much”

He pulled took off his jacket and laid it on the floor for you to lay on. He climbed on top of you and kissed you once again and grabbed your hand.

“I don’t want you to think about Charles” he whispered from the crook of your neck.

“What?”

“When I’m making love to you. I want you to forget how Charles ever did it”

“Me and Charles never had sex”he lifted his head to look at you “you’re the only man who’s ever touched me Arthur”

This made Arthur incredibly happy. He would literally be kept up at night thinking about the chance that Charles probably had you but he didn’t. “Me and Mary never did it either” he explained.

“I’m so glad”

You kissed him again and he pulled your dress up and you ran your fingers through his hair.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants just a bit to release his already growing member.

He aligned himself with you and you squeezed his hand. He pushed himself in and you both moaned at the same time.

“Oh Arthur I-“

Arthur couldn’t get his own words out neither. It’s been too long without each other.

Your body automatically knew how to respond to his. It’s like everything about him was engraved into your genetic code or something. His smell was everywhere. The noises he made filled your ears. The way he touched you sent shivers down your spine and all over.

He continued thrusting into your hot pussy and he finally was able to construct a conceivable phrase.

“I love you y/n. I really love you”

“I lov- I-“ you couldn’t even get it out before your orgasm came crashing down on you.

Arthur was not far behind.

You two were just laying there catching your breaths. He laid his forehead on yours and closed his eyes with his dick still deep inside of you. Cum spilling out of your pussy you didn’t care.

“Hey when was the last time you came before me?”

Your joke caused y’all to laugh and Arthur pulled you on top of him.

“Why are we such fools?” He whispered.

“We were just young”

“We’re you really in love with me back then?”

You took your head off his chest and looked at him.

“I loved you ever since that day we spent at the camp alone. I never stopped since then”

“I loved you ever since I saw you dance in that bar” you smacked his chest. “What I’m being honest”

“Let’s just stop fooling around and making ourselves miserable”

Arthur kissed your forehead again and began to sit up.

“I really don’t want the rest teasing us when we get back. Let’s hurry now”

[oblongblockofsteel]

On a small patch of wildflowers

Part Two

Bill confesses to Kieran, but the lad turns him down.

Trelawny comes in to talk to him, and Bill learns a lot more than he bargained for.

A/N - This story ran away from me, I'd intended a sweet 'first kiss' one shot and this came out. Still, I hope you all enjoy!

It's not that he's surprised, really. 

He never really expected someone as, well, sweet as Kieran Duffy to hook up with an old bastard like Bill Williamson. It didn't really stop him from trying, as stupid as that was. Everyone calls him stupid, and they're probably right. Asking a pretty lad who could have any girl he wanted to be his, that had to be real damned stupid. Who in their right mind would choose him: a big, dumb bastard, over anyone?

Currently, sat on a log far away from camp, he feels at least safe to wallow in the tepid waters of his emotions. The trees don't judge nor do they prod and poke. They've probably seen a great deal worse than a stupid man with a stupid crush. Heard more than confessions, rejections and subsequent acceptances under the veil of kindness. 

"I'm sorry mister, um, Bill. I just... don't feel that way about, um, you," he can still, even now, see those silvery eyes, wide and terrified shimmering in the summer sun. Watch those fine brows crumple into pity and feel that sting of rejection rushing up to meet his anger. He hadn't yelled.

That surprised him, too. He's always so goddamned angry. Kieran had been sweet about it, because of course he was. He's Kieran, sweetest lad on the bloomin earth. His heart agrees eagerly to the sentiment, almost beating with a need to tell him again, just to be sure. But Bill half-wishes Kieran had yelled, at least then he can have a reason to be angry about it. He knows how to handle anger. All he feels now is depressed.

Ugly, unwanted, pathetic.

All sentiments his heart seems to agree with, too.

The white petal crunches between his fingers, rolled up into a ball and tossed to the ground. Each one is ruined, the poor daisy turning into an ugly stalk. His fist curls, crushing it beneath a hand strong enough to break a man's neck. He'd once left a few daisies near Kieran's tent. He wonders if he's figured out it had been Bill. A wash of embarrassment slams his eyes shut and Bill grits his teeth. He hopes he doesn't. 

"Mr Williamson!"

The tension rushes out in a weary sigh. 

He looks up only to glare, to make his figurative tail rattle at the intruder. "What do you want Trelawny?" 

The magician is dressed less flashy today. His coat is missing, shirt sleeves rolled up, and sporting a deep blue cotton vest - a surprise as silk seems to be magnetized to his skin. But the shoes shimmer in the sunlight, and he can see the golden pocket watch catching the sun as he walks. Not overly simple either, but then Josiah Trelawny is not close to being simple or ordinary.

"Nothing, my dear boy!" he cries, walking over with a light spring in his step, "Honestly, I come here to think when I need to! I was simply surprised to find you here!" he pauses to look around, "It is a lovely area, isn't it?"

Bill glances around. The small hollow is protected by oak trees that groan with age, the leaves creating a canopy of green, streaks of golden sunlight spills down from above falling on a small patch of wildflowers made up of bright, vibrant colours. He knows it's beautiful, that's why he'd asked to meet Kieran here.

What a waste.

"Sorry," he mumbles, pushing to get up. "I'll get outta your way."

A firm hand grips his shoulder, and Bill startles, sitting back down hard and coming face to face with Trelawny who's expression has fallen into one of uncertainty.

"Mister..." he stops, "Bill, are you alright?"

The cold despondency is replaced by a whip of anger, and he yanks away, dislodging the hand.

"I'm fine, ya damned snake," he gets up, using his size and weight to loom over Trelawny who at least has the savvy to step away from him. It satisfies some primal urge raging within, and he moves in, forcing the man to step back again. "I might be dumb, but I aint stupid Josiah. Why the fuck are you here?" 

Josiah's eyes flick away for a moment, a flash of guilt cutting over his face, too quick to stay but clear enough to see, and like that the anger is unleashed. 

Bill steps forward, grabs him by his vest and slams him into the rough bark of the Oak Tree. Josiah winces, and it sends another pool of satisfaction down to his belly. "I should whip your ass for this, you fucking cockroach! Did ya come here to laugh? Get some shit for the boys ta make fun of me?"

"No!" Trelawny snaps, grabbing both his hands but his eyes are still wide with fear, "I only wanted to speak to you, Bill! I know -"

"I don't want to talk to you, Trelawny! I don't ever wanna talk to you!" he shoves him away, Josiah thuds into the tree again and he swiftly shakes his head, other than that he doesn't move. "He said no, ya fucking asshole, cause he don't care about me or how I feel! Ya fucking happy?"

Trelawny does not reply and remains pressed up against it, his hands splayed out against the bark, his body turned away slightly from him. Bill stares him down, ensuring the fucker doesn't try anything more before turning away with a sneer of disgust. As if that pansy ass slippery eel actually cared about anyone but himself -

"You know him."

Bill stops, turns and glares his anger still rumbling in his chest like a readymade volcano. "Yeah, I fucking know Kieran, so what?"

Josiah smiles, it's strained more of a grimace, and Bill instantly narrows his eyes, wondering where the slippery bastard is heading to. He likes to play with people, string them along, grabs what he wants and then disappears before you can figure out what he took. Bill shoots people in the head, he murders people in cold blood, but Trelawny and Hosea, their scams and cons? They can cause damage to entire towns. Leave it ruins for years. And all with words and papers. To be honest, it can be terrifying at times.

"Not, Mr Duffy, no," he clears his throat, and stands a little straighter. "The man that I... also care for."

It takes him a solid moment to figure out what he means, and by then Bill is vaguely aware of a rushing in his ears. The words don't sound right, they sound foreign - a different language all together. Trelawny is like him? He looks at men? Bill just never would have thought that he would....

Sure, he's a funny guy, a little queer, if he's honest, and here he is, roughed up, nervous and admitting that...

"You... like men?"

Trelawny smiles, like a crack in a rock's surface it feels too sudden and sharp. "Yes. One in particular, but ah... he doesn't know."

Some of the tension washes away, leaving Bill empty and a little confused. Hesitance is not something he can ever associate with the magician. Boisterous, confidence, arrogance, playfulness, certainty, but uncertainty or hesitance is as foreign on his person like cheap cotton. It feels wrong, almost alien in its implication. Like Trelawny isn't quite himself.

Maybe he isn't.

"You never told him?"

Here he laughs, a little closer to his normal voice and BIll relaxes a little, surprised to find that Trelawny's demeanor had even been stressing him out. 

"Oh no!" the smile softens, then sharpens again, almost like it's trying to hide something, "He thinks I'm a snake."

Bill snorts, "To be fair, everyone does."

Again, the smile sharpens, "True," Trelawny sighs and turns his head upwards to the canopy. Bill shifts, suddenly uncomfortable, and goes to lean his shoulder against a tree and crosses his arms. He's dumb not stupid and Trelawny has something more to say. So, he waits. Not because Trelawny is like him or because he feels safe around him, here hidden in the comfort of the trees. No, he just wants to hear what he has to say. That's all, he thinks, that's all.

"Essentially, I suppose, I know what you're going through," another pause, and Bill stays quiet for lack of anything better to do. "It's difficult, yes, but not impossible to ..." he shakes his head, "I'm not saying what I'm meaning to say."

A pocketknife appears in his hand in a slick twist of the wrist. It glitters in the sun and even from the short distance, Bill can see it's a fine make - silver and intricate. The blade is hidden, but he can bet the edge will be sharp and high quality. Trelawny doesn't buy cheap.

"I bought this for him when he'd needed one three years ago, I'd fancied the idea of giving it to him and declaring my undying love," he laughs, and Bill feels a wrench at the sound, too shattered and pained.

"Why didn't you?"

"Same reason as you, I suppose. Fear," he snorts. "That and he does not think very highly of me."

Bill thinks about that. No one at camp really thinks highly of Trelawny, bar maybe Strauss and Hosea. Strauss is a creepy little bastard, but Hosea? Everyone knows he's got a brilliant judge of character. And he likes Trelawny. Bill briefly considers his interactions with the magician. The man's mostly annoying, but sometimes, when he grows quiet and introspective, he can be quite soothing. Almost companionable. But getting to know Trelawny it's like pulling teeth. He rarely answers truthfully. The few times Bill has tried he's gotten answers that sound about as real as the Moon being made of cheese. 

But with Trelawny, you never really know.

"Does he know you?"

Trelawny frowns.

"Yer a hard man ta read, have you taken the time to let him get to know you?"

"A little," the knife is twirled between his fingers, catching the sun in shimmers. "Just enough to think ill, I suppose."

Bill snorts. "That's not the way it works. Ya can't say people don't like ya if they don't know ya! That's not exactly fair on them or you!"

"True," Trelawny is looking at him, eyes expectant and smile coy.

Oh.

Oh.

"I...." he looks down. He's never really given Kieran the chance to get to know him, has he? He's shuffled and hidden away, snapped and cut him down. But has he ever sat down and just spoken to him? Let Kieran get to know him, and Bill in turn learn more about the sweet lad? No, he thinks, never. He's too damned uncomfortable in himself to do that.

"So, you're saying I should let Kieran get to know me?"

"That's the general idea, yes."

But what if he finds out he doesn't like me?

"It's a risk we take, Bill."

He glances up, a burst of surprise making him frown and in turn, making another pulse of anger bubble. But Trelawny is shaking his hand, waving the animosity into the wind. 

"You're easy to read, and it's not difficult to see what you're thinking."

Bill shifts under the gaze, an intense vulnerability making his anger spike again. Damn that magician! 

They listen to the trees rustle, each lost to their own thoughts for a few moments. Then, Trelawny stands dusting himself off, not that there's much dusting needed. "Well, I hope the conversation helped you, at least Mr Williamson."

"Yeah... sure..."

"Good," with a flourish and a bow he starts for the treeline, but stops right next to Bill, "You can have this."

He holds up the small pocket knife, the silver almost magical in the discs of light. Bill makes to shake his head, but Trelawny rolls his eyes.

"Just take the damned thing, would you?"

But still he hesitates. It don't feel right, taking a token meant for another. It feels wrong.

"I don't know..."

Trelawny's smile goes soft, "I won't be needing it, dear boy. I'd appreciate it, to be honest. At least it will get some use, yes?"

Again he looks at the small knife, his hand feels heavier than usual as he lifts it and tentatively takes the small thing. It fits almost too snugly in his palm.

"Thanks..."

But Trelawny's walking away before he can say anything else. The knife is gorgeous, the silver is carved with a detailed image of a bear standing near the water, the eyes shining in the sunlight. The work must have cost a lot. A pang of sadness bites into his heart. Trelawny never even gave the man a chance. Three years, pining for three years, what a damned long time. Well, he thinks, tossing the knife between his hands, I'm not going to pine after Kieran for three years. I'm gonna be less of coward than Trelawny.

He flicks open the blade and freezes.

The initials B.W. are carved into the blade. 

Bill's heart practically stops.

[ghostsbeetle]

Introduction post

Hey guys, I’m Nick, or you can call me Beetle.

I’m 19 years old, male, and gay.

I’m a mediocre writer (at best) and am trying to write more, as I have recently found my skills to be a bit lacking in terms of things like interactions.

So send me requests (when the ask box is open).

Here are some fandoms I’ll write for:

Resident Evil (mainly)

Red Dead Redemption

Slashers

Dead By Daylight

Fallout

Inside Job

Silent Hill

I have more but that’s all I feel like adding rn lol

Characters I particularly like writing about are:

RE: Albert Wesker, Leon Kennedy, Carlos Oliveira, Rebecca Chambers, Jill Valentine, Nemesis/Tyrant/Mr. X, Chris Redfield, Ethan Winters, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Jack Krauser

RDR: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Lenny Summers, Sean Macguire, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Josiah Trelawny, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Kieran Duffy, Hosea Matthews

Slashers: Michael Myers, Ghostface, Harry Warden, Jason Voorhes, Leatherface, Patrick Bateman

Fallout: John Hancock, Nick Valentine, Craig Boone, Robert Joseph MacCready, Sturges, Arcade Gannon, Paladin Danse, Deacon, Butch Deloria, Courier Six

Inside Job: Brett Hand, Andre Lee, Reagan Ridley, Gigi, Ron Staetdler

Silent Hill: James Sunderland, Pyramid Head

Of course, I’ll write just about any character from those franchises within my limits.

I do request that submissions for one shots/fanfics are particularly detailed; for example,  if you say Leon Kennedy, do tell if you mean re2, re4, re6, Infinite Darkness, or Vendetta, the setting, a specific type (plagas!, umbrella!, soft!), gender neutral, fem, male, and the premise. Head-canon asks don’t need to be AS detailed as I’ll use a general summary of that character’s personality to write for it, but I would appreciate a small description.

I will write anything from fluff, to angst, to smut. I'll also do my best to write characters that I'm not familiar with. I WILL NOT write fetish content, proships, non-consensual stuff, real people, abuse, or beastiality. Basically don’t be a weirdo.

That’s about all. I’m in the process of writing two one shots right now so if you can, do leave a request! It would give me much motivation. Love you all <3

[maskedteaser]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎👽 RULES

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

this list contains :

💿 what i will and won't write

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

anyways, let's get into it!:

👽 WHAT I CAN DO:

🛸 FEMALE, MALE, GENDER NEUTRAL READER

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

🛸 HEADCANON LISTS

🛸 FLUFF

🛸 SMUT

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

🛸 ANGST

🛸 ONE SHOTS

🛸 BLURBS

🛸 PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

🛸 CHARACTER X CHARACTER

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

🛸 POLY RELATIONSHIPS

[ I AM POLY MYSELF ]

🛸 SONG FICS

[ FICS BASED ON SONG YOU PICK ]

👽 WHAT I WON'T DO:

🛸 NON CON / SA / R4PE

🛸 STRONG BDSM / MASTER-SUB DYNAMIC

[ I AM A SWITCH IN BED, I WILL WRITE

SWITCHY NSFW IF I CAN...]

🛸 POLYSEXUAL SEX SCENES

[I AM NOT EXPERIENCED AT ALL]

🛸 KINKS GENERALLY CONSIDERED DISGUSTING

[ SCAT, VORE etc.]

🛸 AGE PLAY, DDLC AND VARIATONS OF THAT

🛸 RACE PLAY / PET PLAY

🛸 ANYTHING ILLEGAL THAT WILL PUT ME IN JAIL U KNOW

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

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎👽 WHAT FANDOMS I WRITE FOR

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

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

THIS LIST MAY CHANGE!!!

👽 RED DEAD REDEMTION 2:

🛸 ARTHUR MORGAN (fav but different category)

🛸 CHARLES SMITH

🛸 JOHN MARSTON

🛸 DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

🛸 HOSEA MATTHEWS

🛸 JAVIER ESCUELLA (MY FAV)

🛸 SEAN MACGUIRE (#2 FAV)

🛸 KIERAN DUFFY

🛸 LENNY SUMMERS

🛸 JOSIAH TRELAWNY (#3 FAV)

🛸 SADIE ADLER

🛸 ABIGAIL ROBERTS

🛸 MICAH BELL

🛸 BILL WILLIAMSON

🛸 JACK MARSTON (OLDER VERSION)

👽 APEX LEGENDS

🛸 OCTANE

🛸 MIRAGE

🛸 BLOODHOUND

🛸 WATTSON

🛸 WRAITH

🛸 REVENANT

🛸 LOBA

🛸 FUSE

🛸 SEER

🛸 VALKYRIE

🛸 GIBLARTAR

🛸 PATHFINDER (can do platonic)

🛸 CAUSTIC

🛸 CRYPTO

👽 CALL OF DUTY

🛸 JOHHNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH

🛸 SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

🛸 KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

🛸 JOHN PRICE

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

🛸 MAKAROV

🛸 ALEJANDRO VARGAS

🛸 KONIG

not adding tags cause why would i...

[rxmanticdevil]

One-shot #2 Magicians for Sport, the Aftermath

Characters: Josiah Trelawny, Dutch Van der Linde, briefly: Susan Grimshaw, Charles Smith Rating: PG/PG-13 Spoilers: Through Ch. 3 Words: ~2336 Trigger warnings: Mentions of torture and injuries Shipping: Yes - minor Vanderlawny Summary: Trelawny has just been rescued from the bounty hunters who kidnapped him. Dutch takes it upon himself to clean up the mess that is Trelawny.  Explanation for this abomination: I wanted hurt/comfort. I wrote myself hurt/comfort. It’s here if you want to read it :D 

 ~*~*~

He knew he should have been paying closer attention to their path if he ever wanted to recreate it later. The ride had been more an easy trot, a slow lope, than anything quick. But his body ached, his mind empty of all save for one, ever present, thought: I’ve been saved.

There was a point in that whole ordeal that he was completely convinced he was going to die on the cold ground, at the mercy of some halfwit bounty hunters. And there would be people in his life who would be none the wiser: one day he was there, the next – he was not.

But for whatever reason, Arthur and Charles had been there. Whether they had been sent by Dutch to find him, or they had happened on the scene, or they had learned of his disappearance. It didn’t really matter why it happened. What did matter was that he was alive. In pain, entirely disheveled – looking like nothing more than a complete disaster – but he was alive.

“We’re here,” the voice brought him out of his head, and he looked out at the camp. People were walking from one point to another. Talking amongst each other. Enjoying their days. Josiah could only inhale sharp in an attempt to hold back his own emotions at a sight he had believed, if just for a moment, that he would never see again.

Oh, but he was being rather dramatic – wasn’t he? Didn’t half the folk here experience such a situation on the daily themselves? Who was he, who lived an all-things-considered blessed life, to bring attention to his situation?

“Mr. Trelawny?” The sharp, admonishing gasp caught his attention, “Whatever happened to you?”

“Just, ah, a spot of bother my dear Miss Grimshaw,” one by one, he noticed those at camp glancing over. At first a casual look, and then a second quick stare. He thought he noticed young Miss Mary-Beth with her hands over her mouth. He’d have to reassure her he was fine. His voice was low and gravelly, everything spent, “Not a worry, not a worry.”

“Some bounty hunters got a hold of him,” Charles had already dismounted his steed and come around to help Trelawny off his horse. It might be a bit embarrassing, accepting help off one’s horse. But it would be more embarrassing to fall on the ground, and with how weak he felt he was convinced a fall from the horse would certainly kill him. “Wanted him to talk. About Dutch. About us.”

“Did you?” and Trelawny found himself meeting the eyes of Mr. Dutch Van der Linde. The reason he had bit his tongue when his life was on the line.

“No,” he was able to answer with honesty, for once.

“They’re dead now anyway,” Charles was by Trelawny’s side, gingerly handing him and his care over to Susan. The woman giving him her own shoulder to lean on.

“You’re a good friend, Josiah,” Dutch looked over his face, and Trelawny could feel Dutch taking in each injury. The cuts on his nose and under his eye. The bruises on his cheeks. Dark eyes focused on the blood on his shirt and the markings on his neck where he was nearly strangled more than once. “Miss Grimshaw, can you escort Mr. Trelawny to my tent? I don’t want him sleeping on the ground like this. I’ll be by once I talk to Charles about a few things.”

“Of course, this way,” she steered him through the camp and for the first time since he had been in the Van der Linde gang, he avoided the eyes of the other people. Whether it be due to the shame for his appearance, feeling vulnerable being seen in such a state, or uncomfortable about the attention unintentionally bought upon himself, he found moving through camp to be a task in itself.

It was also a bit of a task physically, his legs still wobbly from the abuse and from being bound together for so long. It didn’t take long though until he was in the tent, being laid gently on a bed.

“I’ll be right back, Josiah. I just need to fetch some supplies,” she adjusted him so he was fully on the bed and removed his shoes for his comfort.

“Thank you, my dear,” he felt his body finally relaxing into the sheets on the small bed. His guard dropped – he was safe. However embarrassed he was for how he appeared; Dutch’s camp was a safe place. No one here was going to harm him. Hurt him. Demand answers. His eyelids felt so heavy, and in the next moment, they closed.

“Still with us, Josiah?”

He wasn’t sure how long he had been out when a voice and the sound of a chair being pulled up beside him brought him out of his slumber. He cracked his eyes open, realizing that the tent itself had been closed off from the outside. There was only one person inside with him, “Despite their best efforts, it seems I am, Dutch.”

A cool, wet cloth was pressed against the cut on his cheek, tenderly cleaning the wound. “It seems like they did quite a number on you. Charles said you’re planning on staying with us?” Another cloth was brought to his face as Dutch wiped away the dirt, the grime, the blood that had stained his skin. “I think that’s a good idea. I sent Charles back to your caravan to get your things. Until then….”

The wet cloth went onto to the small end table at the head of the bed, next to a small bowl that contained a couple of more clean rags and water. Dutch reached over to yet another small table and held up a pristine white nightgown, “Hosea volunteered one of his nightshirts. A man like yourself can’t be comfortable in, well, that.”

It was a blunt reminder of his disheveled and dirty clothes. His opulent vest once vibrant and unparalleled in beauty now dulled with dirt, stained with his blood, “No… I can’t say I am.”

“Can you sit up?” Dutch’s motions were similar to Arthur’s – large, careful hands decorated with rings made of valuable metals and jewels guided him up from where he laid. Josiah’s body screamed in pain as he helped to lift himself into a sitting position, and though he tried to hide it, Dutch’s eyes on him told him the man read him like one of Evelyn Miller’s books. “Those sons of bitches are lucky they’re dead.”

The comment caught him off-guard. There was a low anger rolling in Dutch’s voice. It was almost as though he was taking the harm that had befallen Josiah personally. “It appears they may be.”

Josiah could feel the rage in Dutch’s silence as the outlaw leader reached for Josiah’s forearm, picking it up with calculated calm. Dutch was using another wet cloth to wipe the blood and grime away in measured motions, looking over each bruise and remnant of the torture Josiah had endured. It was as though he were caught in a trance, placing one forearm down in exchange for the other.

The gang leader’s hand slid down Josiah’s arm, carefully supporting his wrist as his other hand went to hold his fingers. Dutch’s gaze went to the red chafing from the rope, the red knuckles from his attempts to fight back. Each mark, Josiah realized, was telling Dutch more of the story. His hand left Josiah’s in favor of taking the cloth over the wounded knuckles as he returned to ridding the body of filth. It was almost a marvel in itself. The hands that had ended so many lives were now treating his own life as though it were made of porcelain.

Fingertips brushed against Josiah’s collarbone as his filthy shirt was pulled away to expose more bruising. More cuts. More injuries. Another clean cloth was brought to his skin causing a small shiver.

“Dutch,” Josiah spoke and Dutch stopped his motions, as though awakened from deep meditation. His hand and the cloth were still resting on Josiah’s chest. “You’ve got more important things to tend to, I can handle this.”

“Nonsense. You protected me. I owe you at least this.” Once again, Trelawny found himself stunned into silence. It almost as though Dutch was taking responsibility for everything. Like he felt the cause of the entire ordeal fell on his shoulders. Sure, the bounty hunters had wanted Dutch. But it was Trelawny who spoke so vibrantly of the outlaw, had been so careless in his own poking around that provided the link between himself and the Dutch Van der Linde.

Before Trelawny could question him or alleviate the man’s concerns, however, Dutch stood up, guiding him to do the same. “You can’t lift your arms to get your shirt off, can you?”

Even though he knew the answer, he tried anyway. His arms made it half-way before refusing to move any further – and Josiah found himself looking away in what he could only describe as that same shame from earlier. The one that kept him from looking at those in camp.

“I thought so,” Dutch’s hands went to the opened placket on Trelawny’s ruined white shirt, “Forgive me, for my… uncouth,” his voice pitched up in its signature cracking, "behavior.” And in the next instant, he pulled the shirt apart – ripping down from where the last button had been undone to the bottom of the shirt. The fabric hung limp on Trelawny’s body, leaving him feeling more exposed and vulnerable than he would have had the shirt been removed in its traditional, rightful manner.

But this meant the shirt and the vest could slip right off. And despite the sudden ripping of what was left of his top, Dutch was treating him so carefully. It was though he saw Josiah as some fragile glass that would shatter should he move too quickly. The nightgown came on, fitting him decently and falling well below his knees. Dutch averted his gaze as Trelawny removed the last of his filthy clothes from under the gown.

Was it so obvious how uncomfortable Josiah was at this moment? Being so weak. So unable to perform a trick and vanish as he normally would. He had no control anymore over where he was – being at the mercy of those around him. He wasn’t even sure if it made things better or worse, how tenderly the leader of the Van der Linde gang was caring for him.

At least he felt clean now. The filth from the ordeal scrubbed from his body for the most part, his tattered clothes in a heap on the ground to be disposed of. Dutch’s attention was on him once more, helping to lower him onto the bed, laying him down while Dutch sat in the chair next to him.

“I’m very lucky,” Trelawny finally spoke after his long silence.

But Dutch was distracted again. This time by the bright red marking on Trelawny’s throat. The man’s calloused fingers went to Josiah’s jaw, holding it firm but with care, pushing his chin up with his thumb to get a better look. It was impossible to know what Dutch was thinking, the man’s poker face almost near as good as Josiah’s (when he hadn’t been near beaten to death earlier in the day).

He hadn’t realized how close Dutch’s face had gotten to his own. Almost tantalizing. The hand on his jaw moved to his neck. An act that hours ago had brought fear, but now the touch brought an inexplicable comfort. Perhaps he was foolish, trusting a man like Dutch so completely. Not perhaps. Josiah was plenty a fool. But not when it came to where he put his trust. Dutch’s thumb brushed over the part of his neck that was raw and red. The damaged skin bristled at the touch but Trelawny didn’t want to show that on his face.

And in the next moment he felt lips on his. The wanted man’s body leaned over the fallen magician, the kiss itself firm. Protective. Dominating. And for just this time in their charade together, Josiah let himself accept without competing. He was far too tired to offer anything more than a return of the kiss with approval and light appreciation.

Dutch pulled away in the next moment, “Thank you.”

Josiah wasn’t sure what he was being thanked for. For accepting the kiss? That hardly needed a ‘thank you.’ They had gone back and forth with their trysts before. For not revealing information about him to the bounty hunters? Perhaps. But Dutch should know, the man might not have Josiah’s honesty – but he had his loyalty.  

“Get some rest. There will be time for more later,” Dutch’s hand made a last trip up Trelawny’s neck, cupping his injured cheek before moving on to some light grooming of Trelawny’s hair – fixing stray strands that had drifted too far from their rightful place.

He then stood and made his way to the front of his tent.

“Dutch?”

The outlaw worth far more than Trelawny could even imagine stopped in his tracks, giving his full attention to Josiah.

“Please, let sweet Miss Mary-Beth know I will be right as rain in just a day or so. The dear seemed quite concerned. I’d hate for anyone to lose sleep over a fool like me.”

“I’ll let her and everyone know you’ll be okay,” and he reached for the flap at the tent’s entrance, “Glad you’re safe, Josiah. We’d miss you. I’d miss you.”

With that, he slipped out of the tent and Trelawny let himself breathe in deep once again. The breath caused his body to ache but it only served to prove what he had been telling himself since he had gotten to camp: everything may hurt, but he was alive.

His eyes shut and in barely a moment’s time, the cunning magician hobbled by the greed and desires of others had fallen into a deep sleep. As Dutch had said, there would be plenty time for more later.

[my-funky-little-cowboy]

How did you do that?

Characters: Jack Marston, Abigail Roberts, Josiah Trelawny Words: 1,533 Warnings: Fluff, Josiah is a good dad, Jack needs people to play with, cute kid shit [ ko-fi] || [ ao3 ]

This was another piece I did for Bury Me Not @thereddeadzine

“Jack! Don’t wander off now!” Abigail shouted across the camp as the boy disappeared into the tall grass near the shore. 

The sun hung low in the sky as dusk approached. Jack followed the small butterfly, his mother’s words falling on deaf ears. He pushed through the grass, slowing as the butterfly landed on a small flower.

“What have you got there, boy?” Jack looked over his shoulder back to the small fire nearby.

“Butterfly!” He turned back as the butterfly fluttered off into the evening sky. “Aww.” He pouted, slowly turning back to the fire.

Josiah sat near the fire near the outskirts of camp shuffling a deck of cards. He had just finished a game of solitaire, the cards danced around in his hands. His kind eyes on Jack as the boy joined him by the fire. 

“Don’t worry, he was just going home for dinner. I’m sure he will be back tomorrow.” 

Jack’s eyes lit up, a smile returning to his face. “Really?” He sat down next to Trelawny near the fire, his attention being drawn to the cards. “What are you doing?” 

“Of course. This?” Trelawny straightened the deck in his hands and presented it to the boy. “A trick, want to see?” 

Jack moved closer to Trelawny, his eyes bright. “Yeah!”

Trelawny fanned the cards out in his hand, presenting them to the child, he leaned in real close. “Can you pick a card for me? Don’t show it to me, but remember the picture you see on it, okay?”

Jack’s fingers ran over the edges of the cards, picking one and pulling it out. He stared at the card, tucking it close to his chest and shutting his eyes tightly. As he tried to commit the card to memory, Jack squinted one eye open, training it on Josiah before squeezing it closed once more. 

“Got it?” Trelawny fanned the cards back out and held them out. “Put the card back in, wherever you’d like, face down.” Jack carefully slid the card back into the deck and Trelawny shuffled the cards between his hands. 

“Alright Jack, my boy, as you can see. I have no clue which card was yours. But for good measure, how about you give the decks a nice shuffle of your own.” He handed the cards to Jack who clumsily switched the cards around in his hands before lining the deck back up and handing it back to Trelawny.

“You’re never gonna find my card now!” Jack said smugly, his crooked smile an exact match to his father’s. 

The deck got one more shuffle and Trelawny palmed the cards. “Now, keep your eyes on the cards, okay Jack?” He began to move them in his hands, fanning and counting the number of cards to himself. He pulled a card from the deck, holding it up for Jack. He flicked the card, turning it slowly over in his hand. He watched Jack’s eyes go wide as he recognized his card.

“How’d you know?!” Jack pulled the card from Trelawny’s hand, turning it over in his hands. 

Trelawny chuckled.

“Now, that would ruin the magic!” He leaned in and took the card from Jack. “But how about I show you another trick? One that you can show your mother.”  He snapped his finger against the card, and it turned into a small flower, he handed it back to Jack.

Jack’s eyes sparkled as he took the little flower, inspecting it. “Yeah…” Jack breathed, his eyes fixed on the flower.

Trelawny smiled, pulling a half dollar from his pocket; flattening it in his palm, he held out his hand to Jack. “You want to learn how to make this coin disappear?” 

Jack knit his brows, his eyes moving from the half dollar to Trelawny’s face. “How?” He took the coin, feeling it between his fingers.

“It’s an illusion, a trick of the eye.” Josiah took the coin back, moving it between his fingers. Jack watched his hand, his eyes following the coin as it moved across Trelawny’s hand. “You see, if you can focus someone’s attention on the left hand, they will never know what your right hand is doing.” 

He moved his other hand over the coin, pinching it between his finger and holding it up before transferring it to his opposite palm, his fingers closing around it. He opened his hand and the coin was gone. Jack reached for Trelawny’s hand. 

“How did you do that! Where did it go?” Trelawny humored the boy, letting him turn his hands over to inspect them.

A smile curled across Trelawny’s face and he gently pulled his hand free from the boy’s, moving his hand behind the boy’s ear he produced the coin. “Right here, behind your ear!”

Jack snatched the half dollar from Trelawny, scrutinizing it. He frowned deeply the longer he held the coin. He looked up at Josiah. “But I saw it vanish!”

“Did you though? Or did you see what I wanted you to?” He took the coin back from Jack, passing it between his hands again, slowly this time, showing Jack just where the half dollar was hidden. “It’s like I said, my boy. If you control your audience’s attention, you can get away with anything behind their backs.”

Jack’s eyes followed each of the movements, his mouth agape with wonder and awe. He let out an airy laugh as Trelawny slid the coin onto his wrist. Jack’s tiny body buzzed with excitement as he pieced together the parts of the trick. 

Trelawny took Jack’s hand, showing him how to hold the coin, how to palm it, and how he could redirect people’s attention. “Alright, now you try.” 

Trelawny felt the pride flood through him as Jack went through the motions of the trick, the coin getting stuck in his small hands as he tucked it into his fist. Trelawny stopped him, having him open his fist slightly to allow it to slip in, telling him to close this fist just enough to pull the hidden coin back out. 

                                                   -- ✦ --

The sun was setting below the horizon as Jack practiced the trick. Trelawny watched him, reminded of his own boys, his heart heavy that he had been away from them so long. Seeing Jack play, he smiled, reminded of the first time he showed his oldest this trick. 

It was nice to see the boy smiling, Josiah knew he spent a lot of time alone. He chuckled as Jack let out an excited, “Ta-da!” as he finished the trick. 

Trelawny clapped, “Bravo! Wonderful trick, Jack! We’ll make a magician out of you yet!” He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and the boy beamed up at him.

“I can’t wait to show Momma! And Uncle Sean!” He jumped up, running off back toward the center of camp. “Momma! Momma! I gotta show you something!” His little feet carried him quickly through the darkness toward the main campfire.

“What ya got, honey?”  Abigail turned as Jack appeared in the glow of the campfire. Jack’s eyes sparkled and Abigail smiled warmly.

“Mr. Trelawny taught me a magic trick, wanna see?” He bounced to a stop holding up the coin. Her eyes looked out into the darkness, seeing Trelawny slowly approach. She nodded at him before her eyes went back to Jack.

“Of course! Let’s see this trick!” She ushered Jack into the light of the campfire. Trelawny joined them, sitting across the fire from them. Next to him Uncle and Sean were drunkenly muttering to one another. Their attention was drawn to the boy as he entered the light.

Jack stood up straight, puffing his chest out and Josiah muffled a laugh at the boy’s showmanship. Shaking his head as the boy turned to greet everyone. Abigail’s eyes met with Trelawny’s as Jack continued his showboating, she mouthed a gentle Thank you as she stifled her own laugh.

Jack followed every step of what Trelawny showed him. Tucking the coin into his hand with a grand gesture, his short sleeves making it hard to hide the half dollar, but he managed to get the coin into his cuff before he flashed his empty hands to his audience. Trelawny clapped loudly as Jack finished the trick, Abigail feigning shock and awe. Sean shakily stood up, drunkenly picking up the child.

“What’dya do with the coin?” Sean lifted the boy above his head shaking him playfully and Jack let out a peal of laughter.

“It’s magic, Uncle Sean! I can’t tell you!” 

Sean held him out in front of him, his eyes narrowing. 

“You better tell me, or I’ll tickle it out of ya!” Sean wriggled his fingers under the boy’s arms and Jack began to squirm, his laughter growing.

“It’s magic! I can’t, stop, Uncle Sean!” Jack kicked wildly, laughter filling the night air. Josiah moved and joined Abigail as Jack struggled against Sean’s grip. Abigail’s hand found purchase on Trelawny’s knee and he looked over at her.

“Thank you, Josiah. Not many give him the time of day. And it’s lonely bein’ the only kid.” 

Josiah took her hand in his, a warm smile on his face.

“He’s a great kid.”  He squeezed her hand gently. “It was my pleasure!”

[camdentown-library]

𝕰𝖘𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

☕ = Fluff 🥯 = Smut 🥨 = Angst 🟠 = One-shot 🟣 = Headcanon ☀️ = Male x Female 🌙 = Female x Female

𝕬𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖓'𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖉

male!Eivor the Wolfkissed

Sober ☕🟠☀️

Sleeping with Eivor ☕🥯🟣☀️

Holding Hands ☕🟠☀️

You hurt me first ☕🥨🟠☀️

NSFW Headcanons 🥯🟣☀️

Ivarr Ragnarsson

Dancing with the beast  ☕🟠☀️

Sleeping with Ivarr ☕🥯🟣☀️

How Ivarr behaves when he falls in love with the reader ☕🥯🟣☀️

NSFW Headcanons 🥯🟣☀️

Sigurd Styrbjornson

Sleeping with Sigurd ☕🟣☀️

NSFW Headcanons 🥯🟣☀️

Basim Ibn Ishaq

Sharing clothes ☕🟠☀️

Sleeping with Basim ☕🟣☀️

Hytham

Sleeping with Hytham ☕🟣☀️

Yusuf Tazim

Are you cold? ☕🟠☀️

Ubba Ragnarsson

female!Eivor Varinsdottir

Tyr

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Federico Auditore da Firenze

Bartolomeo D’Alviano

Niccolò Machiavelli

Malik Al-sayf

𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Sean Macguire

🌺 + Sean ☕🟠☀️

Arthur Morgan

🥶 + Arthur ☕🟠☀️

Dutch Van der Linde

🤬 + Dutch 🥨🟠☀️

John Martson

Bill Williamson

Lenny Summers

Javier Escuella

Kieran Duffy

Flaco Hernandez

Josiah Trelawny

Eagle Flies

𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝕶𝖔𝖒𝖇𝖆𝖙

Kung Lao

One, None and One Hundred Thousand ☕🥨🟠☀️

Liu Kang

Raiden

Fujin

Hanzo Hasashi

Kuai Liang

Kano

Erron Black

Kabal

𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 / 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖔𝖇𝖇𝖎𝖙

Thranduil

My guardian spirit ☕🟠☀️

Feren

Lindir

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑 𝕮𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖀𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊

Loki

A series of absurd coincidences ☕🟠☀️

Helmut Zemo

Bath-time with Zemo ☕🥯🟣☀️

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

Jake Lockley

Bucky

Sam Wilson

Vision

Doctor Strange

Erik Killmonger

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖗

Ah Sahm

Young Jun

Bolo

Wang Chao

Li Yong

Zing

Bill O’Hara

Richard Henry Lee

[mlmxreader]

Dear Boy | Arthur Morgan x M!reader x Josiah Trelawny (🍋)

request: Do you still write for Red dead Redemption 2? If yes could you write something about having a threesome with Josiah and Arthur? (If you don't, that's fine too!) ps: Male Reader please - anonymous

summary: you, Arthur and Trelawny are left alone at camp for the day, and with very little trouble to get into, what's the harm in making your own?

warnings: praise kink, threesomes, oral, anal, anal fingering, swearing, smoking

word count: N/A, worked on mobile 🤷🏻‍♂️

author's note: @x-reader-theater helped me write this and I just.... ily, my dude, thank you so much for helping me out💚

"Josiah!" You shouted, grinning from ear to ear as you approached. "Josiah!"

He whirled around, lighting up a cigarette as he smiled at you, tilting his head. "Yes, dear boy?"

You fumbled with your satchel when you got to him, only daring to stop once your fingers graced what you were looking for, pulling out a daffodil with great care as to prevent damage to the bright yellow petals. "Look what I found!"

Josiah smiled, paying more attention to your beaming smile than the flower; he had never met a man like you, so handsome and so charming you quite literally knocked him from his feet.

"It's wonderful," he said eventually, feeling as if there was something slightly caught in his throat.

"Here," you pressed the stem into his hand tightly. "I want you to have it as, like... I dunno, a lucky charm."

You are my lucky charm, he thought.

"Josiah," Arthur nodded as he wandered over. "(y/n)."

"Hey, Arthur," you said kindly, stepping aside so that he could join you. "I thought you'd gone hunting with Dutch and the rest of the gang."

"Nah," he shook his head. "I figured I'd stay here with you two - make sure you don't get into no trouble."

Josiah scoffed, raising a brow. "And what trouble could we possibly get into, dear boy?"

Arthur shrugged. "All kinds'a trouble, Trelawny - you're as slippery as an eel and as for you, (y/n)... never known a man who could get into trouble for pickin' flowers."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, maybe I just need a bit of punishment's all."

"A bit of punishment?" Josiah mused, looking you up and down, that feeling of something caught in his throat growing, making him lick his lips.

"Well, uh," Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "I, I guess me and Trelawny could give it a go."

"Oh, absolutely," Josiah nodded in agreement. "If you'd like us to, that is."

You bit your lip, the thought of both of them punishing you making your face feel hot as blood ran south and your fingers trembled. "I'd... I'd love that."

Josiah took the first move, gesturing for you and Arthur to follow behind; you wound up at his tent, and you could feel yourself getting excited - boiling in your stomach so much that your trousers became tight and tented.

Josiah let his hands go to your hips, pulling you in close as he looked at your lips. "I'd like to kiss you."

You couldn't even answer, meeting him halfway; it was hot and heavy, open mouthed and desperate, and when Arthur came up behind you, peppering your neck with little kisses, you couldn't help but to squirm, bringing one hand up to Josiah's cheek, the other going to the back of his neck as you moaned into his mouth.

"Fuck..." Arthur groaned, his hands going to the back of your shirt, pulling it down a little so he could pepper a few more kisses onto your skin.

His beard was tickling your skin, making you whimper and silently beg for more - but when Josiah pulled away, his lips plump and swollen, you frowned.

Until Arthur turned your head to the side, his index finger and thumb on your chin as he kissed you gently, but still just as desperate and needy; Josiah bit at his lip for a second, swallowing thickly before he dared to press kisses to your shoulder, holding your shirt down so that he could get at the skin.

You were burning with the heat of a thousand suns - but you would happily burn for eternity like that.

"Arthur, sit over there," Josiah commanded, pointing to his bed. "Where would you like to be, dear boy?"

"I, uh, I don't mind," you admitted softly. Sometimes you liked to be the one giving, other times you liked to be the one recieving - you liked it all the same. "I'm a man of many talents - fucking is... it's all the same to me, regardless of position."

Josiah smiled, looking at Arthur for a second. "Would you like me to take you in my mouth while Arthur fucks you, dear boy?"

You nodded, biting your lip - but when Arthur leaned over a little, smacking your ass, you yelped. "Yes."

"Good boy," Arthur praised quietly.

"Good boy, indeed," Josiah licked his lips, able to feel his own blood rushing south and resulting in the tightening and tenting of his trousers. "Strip."

You did as he said, unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall to the floor before removing everything else - but when you went to take off your hat, Josiah shook his head.

"What do you think, Arthur?"

"I think leavin' the hat on sounds good," Arthur confirmed with a nod.

You tried not to smile as you bit the inside of your lip, leaving your hat on.

Arthur reached out to you, pulling you onto his lap, his cock pressing into you through his jeans as he gestured for Josiah to come closer; with a villainous smile, Arthur kept one hand between your hip and thigh, biting his lip as he reached down, his hand gracing your bare ass.

Josiah sat beside him, and gently coaxed you to turn around slightly, just enough that he could capture your lips once more; he was sweet this time, his kiss coated in the honey of desperation. He slipped his tongue, and you moaned softly, giving Arthur the chance to slip his oiled up fingers into your ass.

Fuck, his fingers were thick. You couldn't help the shuddering moan that left you, moaning into Josiah's mouth. He kissed you with a bit more roughness, then, letting Arthur's fingers open you up for what was about to come.

"Fuck me," Arthur growled, his voice hoarse and hot against you. "You're so fucking tight, (y/n)."

Josiah pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as he smirked, his eyes shaded by the brim of your hat - it was tilted back slightly, and he looked even more charming in the shade. "You're being so good, dear boy."

"I think he's good to go, Trelawny," Arthur's voice was nothing short of animalistic as he pulled his fingers out and cleared his throat.

Standing on weak legs, Josiah pulled you to his side, kissing your temple as he murmured sweet praises in your ear.

After he got undressed, you watched Arthur get himself oiled up, his cock shining in the afternoon sunlight that dared to poke through the gaps in the closed tent.

He passed you the bottle, and you knew what to do instinctively, it was pretty obvious you had done this before a fair few times, shaking your ass a little bit as you got yourself slicked up.

"Do you still want to do this, dear boy?" Josiah asked softly, taking your hand. "We won't act awful if you don't. It's okay to change your mind."

You shook your head, biting your lip that little bit harder. "I still want to do this."

"Easy does it," Arthur said gently when you got to him, his hands gripping your hips so that he could guide you down, groaning softly at how tight you were. When he bottomed out, he leaned forward, his words hot against your ear. "You doing good?"

You nodded, rolling your hips as you groaned softly. "I didn't think you'd be so fucking big, Morgan."

He was blushing, his eyes meeting Josiah's as he dared to chuckle softly. But then he cleared his throat and asked, "this ain't too much, is it?"

"No," you told him. "This ain't too much."

To your surprise, Josiah dropped to his knees before you, clearing his throat. "Would this be too much?"

"Shit, Josiah," you chuckled breathlessly, trying not to let your moans overtake your words when Arthur slowly, with torturing thrusts, started to fuck you. "I can't count the times I've- I've thought about having your lips around my cock."

Slowly, Josiah wrapped his pretty lips around your cock, only daring to focus on your head as he toyed with you - it seemed as if your punishment was having to be toyed and tortured.

Arthur gave you a harsh trust, chuckling softly when you begged for him to go faster, harder.

"Oh, no," he clicked his tongue. "You said you needed to be punished, right?"

You growled, shaking your head. "I know, but... this ain't fucking fair - please, fuck me already."

Arthur looked at Josiah, who was purposefully avoiding playing with your balls as he pulled back - the tip of your cock coated in his spit.

"He has been rather good," Josiah admitted. "Perhaps we could give him the luxury."

You nodded, biting your lip. "Fucking please."

"Alright," Arthur agreed, starting to move a little faster, a little harder, but careful not to fuck you too hard. "You're doing real well, (y/n)."

Josiah went back to your cock, taking you in until be could feel himself gag, bobbing his head as you reached out with a shaky hand and laced your fingers in his hair; you were gripping tightly, a loud growl coming from the back of your throat when he brought one hand up and started to play with your balls.

Your hat was starting to slip, but Arthur caught it and fixed it while he continued to thrust up into your ass; it was a little painful, but you didn't mind - it was the pleasurable kind of pain. You could feel his breath on your burning skin, making you whimper his name as you ground your ass against him.

Josiah was relentless with your cock, sucking you off just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to make.you go over it - but fuck, the way he played with your balls made you want nothing more than to cum all over his pretty face.

"You're not gonna cum til we say so," Arthur told you, his hand daring to move around to your throat, squeezing gently.

"Fuck me," you whispered. "And what if I cum before?"

"We're gonna make you cum til you don't stop," Arthur said quietly, nibbling at the side of your ear a little. He was good at this.

The thought of that alone made you creep closer towards the edge; the way Arthur had been fucking you was hitting your sweet spot a fair few times more than what you had expected. Between that, and Josiah's magical mouth, you weren't sure how you were stopping yourself from cumming.

You thought that that sweet, sweet torture would last for eternity; purgatory spent teetering on the edge of the cliff. You could feel the hunger for it in the pit of your stomach, making you growl their names harshly as you begged for them to let you cum; begging for mercy that you had a sneaking suspicion would never actually relieve you from that sweet torture.

But then Arthur's movements started to get erratic - his thrusts growing sloppy and harsh as he tried not to let himself go, but he knew the end was near, and he kissed your neck before softly growling.

"You can cum, after me."

You nodded, trying to match his offbeat rhythm as he continued to fuck you ass, your grip on Josiah's hair tightening to the point where anyone else would have worried you were going to rip it; when Arthur finally came in your ass, you let the floodgates open, your cum filling Josiah's mouth as he eagerly swallowed.

Fuck, he looked beautiful swallowing your cum. A little bit dribbled onto his chin. You swallowed thickly.

"My, my," he chuckled as he pulled away, wiping that dribble of you from his chin with his handkerchief. "You did so well, dear boy."

Arthur was finished, completely spent; he let you get off of him, but he paused.

"Maybe, uh, maybe we should go clean up in the river," he suggested. "The gang ain't gonna be back for at least another hour - and the river's only a minute away."

Keeping you against his side, Josiah stole a look at you before turning to Arthur and nodding. "That sounds like a splendid idea!"

[ttuesday]

i’m not sure if your requests are open so if not feel free to ignore! how would the guys react if the reader was having period pains (cramps, headaches, back pains, the whole shebang) cause i’m having an entire Experience right now 😔

ah yes the dreaded cramps from hell, good luck anon! I hope it goes away soon <3

Arthur

Arthur absolutely hates when you’re in pain. He gives you compliments throughout the day and he tries to be more affectionate with you.

When your cramps get bad, Arthur puts a protective hand around your stomach and spoons you.

Whatever food you crave, Arthur will do his best to get you it.

Right now you’re his number one priority so he doesn’t go on any missions or side jobs for Dutch. There’s only one thing he’s focused on and that’s you.

Charles

Charles is very understanding about these things. He’s heard Karen and Abigail complain about cramps before and he’s always offered to help.

Charles goes off and picks a variety of herbs in the hopes he can make some concoction to help relieve the pains.

As you sip on the herbal tea he’s made for you, Charles gently kneels your lower back to ease your tense muscles.

When you finally start to feel comfortable, Charles encourages you to try and take a nap while he does some of your chores around camp.

Dutch

Dutch knows how to deal with bad period pains, not from personal experience but from past relationships.

He doesn’t want you moving around or doing too much in case you get lightheaded.

Instead he tells you to spend the day in bed and he’ll get you whatever you need.

Dutch sits beside you and keeps his hand pressed on your stomach, hoping that the slight pressure and heat from his palm will help.

Micah

Micah's shot, stabbed and punched enough people so he isn't fazed by something as common as a period. But because this is Micah, he won't believe they can be that painful at first.

But once he sees how your face winces as you clutch your torso, he starts to realize how bad they can be at times.

He’ll hold you tightly, kiss you, get you water and wrap you up in his black coat.

Although Micah won’t ever admit this, periods kinda make him panic. He doesn’t understand how you can cope with this on a monthly basis. Micah has a lot of respect for you but he won’t let you know that.

Javier

Javier has everything prepared, he literally has a box of medication in case you get severe headaches and cramps.

He tries to minimize all stress for you, making sure to accompany you on any big robberies

and good luck to anyone that tries to pick a fight with you, Javier will have his knife to their throat in an instant and make them apologize to you.

Javier even helps you meditate and shows you different breathing exercises that’re supposed to help.

Bill

Bill has no idea what he’s doing. “But how’re you gettin’ cramps if it’s just blood coming out of you?”. He does not understand female anatomy or how periods work.

His suggestions are pretty basic, mainly asking if changing the position you’re lying in would help or if drinking some water would help the pain go away.

But if you ask him to hold you or go into town and get you anything, Bill will do it without a moment’s hesitation.

He hopes that you’ll give him instructions on how to help cause he’s clueless.

Sean

Sean is confident he can help but he starts to feel panicked when he sees you in pain. He wants to take all the pain away but he doesn’t know how.

Sean wants you to think he can handle this and that he knows exactly what to do, so he may secretly ask Abigail or Mary-Beth how he should help you.

After hearing heat helps, he gets as many blankets as possible as layers them on top of you to keep you cozy and warm.

Sean encourages you to rest your head on his lap and he mindlessly runs his fingers through your scalp in the hopes you’ll drift off to sleep.

Lenny

Lenny’s honest with you and tells you he has absolutely no idea what to do or how he can help.

He doesn’t know much about periods and he may get flustered at the start but he’s determined to help you through this.

Lenny may be young and not as experienced with periods as some of the other fellers but there is one thing he’s certain on. Hugs make everything better.

He will give you plenty of hugs and kiss up your neck, whispering words of praise to you.

Trelawny

Trelawny wants you to feel like a queen every day of the week so whenever you get cramps, he goes above and beyond trying to make you feel more at ease.

He offers to take you away for the week on an all expenses paid trip to the best hotel in Saint Denis.

Trelawny’s focused on making sure you’re constantly relaxing, buying you comfy clothes and your favourite snacks.

He treats you to a spa day too, filled with massages, face masks and pure relaxation. But you’ll probably have to help Josiah get some of the face mask out of his mustache.

[sweet-by-and-by]

Darkness- RarePair Week Day 3

summary: Josiah and Arthur run into some trouble on a night out in Saint Denis- but they always have each other to help pick themselves back up. pairing: Arthur Morgan x Josiah Trelawny warnings: period typical homophobia, violence, blood/injury reference, hurt/comfort a/n: Thank you to @foundynnel for the inspiring test shots! The mod king is serving us all in this incredible Rarepair week. In my brainstorming notes for this week I wrote “Morlawny can get it but I’m afraid to write them”, so hopefully you enjoy this despite the sads! Check out the rest of the Rarepair week happening until Friday! (And beyond if I’m anything like I was with Sadithur week)

The soft glow of the lanterns cast harsh shadows on Trelawny’s face.

That’s what Arthur chose to focus on. The shadows masked the forming bruises and the blood clotting over wounds, letting him pick what injuries to give attention to.

He rest his hand against Josiah’s cheek, grimacing at the wince his touch pulled from the man. He grabbed the pocket square from his suit, dabbing at the blood still seeping from the cuts and scrapes.

“Josiah,” he whispered, afraid to speak any louder. It was their volume that got them into this mess in the first place, the drunken stumbling through the streets of Saint Denis and the quiet whimpers he couldn’t suppress.

Stupid, he thought to himself. Why do you always have to be so god damn stupid?

This night was supposed to be special. Arthur’s first “day off” since the nonsense that drove them from Clemen’s Point. Between Bronte and the Braithwaites, they hadn’t had time to stop since fleeing into the swamps.

He couldn’t deny his lover of his excitement at the comforts of Saint Denis. Even if the place made Arthur feel sick to his stomach, more riddled with snakes and vile creatures than the horrible swamps that surrounded it. But Trelawny loved the city, and Arthur could tolerate one more night in his own hell just to see the man smile.

They kept the evening short, not wanting to attract any attention after their mess with Bronte. Dinner and a show, full of secret touches and quiet gasps in the dark theatre. Trelawny couldn’t seem to help himself, hands wandering over Arthur’s broad shoulders and tailored waist in his tailcoat.

But they must not have been so subtle, their caution forgotten with drink and the illusion of privacy that the dark provides. After exiting the theatre, both were quickly dragged into the alleyway and blindsided by a cluster of drunken, enraged men. They kicked and punched until they grew bored, throwing insults with each hit. Left the two men in broken heaps of swollen bruises and battered bones, but thankfully still alive.

“Arthur, my boy,” Josiah replied, bolder in his volume. His usual lilt was forced, the thick sound of blood in his throat giving away his guise, “not quite how I thought this evening would go.”

Arthur’s frown deepened, the heavy set of his brow creasing long lines on his forehead. He gave no response, carefully tilting Trelawny’s head forward to press against his own. Josiah flinched back, driven by pain and fearful instinct.

Dropping his hand immediately, Arthur stepped away. His body ached in protest, sore muscles complaining from the harsh movements. It had been a good while since he had been jumped, caught off guard in his inebriated state. Though he fared much better than Josiah in terms of defense.

“We should go,” Arthur said stiffly, passing his bloodied pocket square off to Josiah. “Take this, your nose is bleedin’.”

Josiah nodded in thanks, taking the kerchief from Arthur and lifting it up to his nose. The two men walked back towards the theatre, Trelawney limping heavily. His overcoat had been lost in the scuffle, leaving him disheveled and battered as his bloodied hair hung in his face. The sight made Arthur's stomach turn, the sharp contrast to his usual state an unwelcome reminder of how dangerous life was for men of their kind.

Arthur swallowed thickly as they entered the busy street, hoping desperately not to draw more unwanted attention to themselves.

--

They made their way back to camp late into the night, their initial plans of spending the evening in the city feeling senseless after the events. The ride was slow, with thoughts running rampant as Arthur watched Trelawny suffer on horseback.

The moon hung high in the sky as they broke through the trees, the decrepit sight of Shady Belle welcoming them back to safety. Arthur felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders with their return to camp, assured that no more harm would come to them for now.

He quickly dismounted and rushed to Josiah’s side, helping him loosen his feet from the stirrups and slide out of the saddle. He threw the man’s arm over his own shoulder to support his weight, not giving Josiah a chance to turn away his help. Together, they crossed the wooden bridge and moved towards the house. Josiah looked up questioningly at Arthur, glancing towards his bedroll amongst the men. Arthur shook his head in response, resisting the urge to just pick Josiah up and carry him up the stairs.

Instead, he let him struggle. Forced his expression to stay neutral at each hiss of pain. Josiah needed his pride, and Arthur would do whatever he could to let the man have it.

Managing their way up the stairs, they took solace in Arthur’s room. Arthur freed himself of Trelawny’s weight, letting him stand on his own. He hated the way he swayed on his feet, fighting off pain to keep himself upright.

They undressed wordlessly, leaving their clothes in a pile to be dealt with tomorrow. Arthur helped Josiah down on the bed, checking him over in the soft light of his room. The glow covered the worst of the damages here too, the worst to be revealed come morning. He maintained his silence as Josiah rest his head on the pillow, stretching out on Arthur’s cot and sighing contently.

The canvas dipped as Arthur joined him, carefully placing an arm over his waist. The weight of Josiah pressed against his front brought him comfort, assurance that they were still here came with every sharp inhale. Tomorrow they could deal with cracked bones and mottled bruises. Tonight, Arthur pressed a kiss to Josiah’s head and whispered “I love you”s, letting sleep take them to faraway places of sandy beaches and forgiveness.

[reddeadreference]

Blog Progress Update (Travel Blog Style 😎#14)

Did the mayor’s party, got A LOT of photos of dresses for sure. Gonna take a hot second to put those all together.

End cutscene for that mission is us back at Shady Belle… Arthur sits up from some sacks he was sleeping on (bruh you have a bed) he stands up… sacks are gone and replaced with crates…Rockstar wut…?

Mary-Beth is asking about Kieran. That’s it. He’s gone. T-T Damn I really though there was at least SOME time with him there… I’ll have to reload the welcome back party and just not let him out of my sight if I want any photos of him doing anything… maybe he doesn’t do anything…

Left for Saint Denis … saw the “SA” pop up on the mini map. I’M NOT CRYING YOU ARE

On the boat, I totally forgot about the poker boat, gotta add that to the Saint Denis page probably.

Everything kicked off and I was takin out guys left and right… kinda took Strauss’ kill (knock out) and lost honor… Failed on purpose so he could have his moment.

Strauss: What about the alligators?

Trelawny: My suit!

JOSIAH! PRIORITIES MAN!

Time to listen to trumpet man while I wait for the newspaper boy to come back because he got frightened because I pushed the racist… okay… never came back but i got some journal stuff done meantime.

Saw a white “search here” cloud pop up and found Charles XD totally forgot about this “Please… do not do that again.” so polite. 

Well time to get a vampire- shit, or not, completely forgot that you’re wanted after this mission for the fight on the pier. Dang it Miss Grimshaw’s gonna yell at me again… I may have jumped directly into the water hoping to hide, was seen, can’t surrender… nevermind I’ll get the vampire later. I’m close to finishing Chapter 3’s page just gotta get onto online to get Braithwaite photos. I haven’t touched online in so long.

Okay… so… last time I came here in online… I swear it wasn’t trashed… as in… the desk the Braithwaite hides behind to shoot at Arthur from wasn’t tipped over… and the kitchen door wasn’t blocked… is it trashed cause of my progress in the game?????? 

Cause I was still able to open the "blocked" door as if it wasn't blocked...Weird.

Okay, vampire time… I don’t have the patience to make it night, I’m gonna go to Eagle Flies Mission instead

Went to Valentine. Oh brother… forgot about these two.. Did a bounty.

I missed some Braithwaite manor shots and I tried to go back to online but it wouldn’t let me… so I guess I’m doing Eagle Flies’ mission first. Did that then online. Almost done with the Braithwaite posts. 

Back at camp, Sadie… hun, it's nothing personal I'm avoiding you.

I didn't know there was a Micah Coach Robbery for this chapter. Bruh we already did one, give someone else a chance. 

I'm gonna do that then just bite the bullet, rip the band-aid off, jump into the deep end, etc

 otherwise I'm gonna be in chapter 4 forever. I will have to spend a few hours reading happy Duffy fics after though… maybe write a few...

[anari3l]

A Fine Night

words: 762 /// pairing: arthur morgan x reader /// anon asked for: 59: height difference 60: sitting in their lap 21: listening to someone’s heartbeat with arthur /// summary: you help the gang rob the grand korrigan. “A Fine Night for Debauchery” finds you posing as Arthur’s fake wife /// notes: i’m like five minutes away from restarting yet another play through of this game, so be on the look out for more arthur love. 

You stood stock still as you watched Arthur step onto the river boat. He had dressed up for the occasion, his hair slicked back, and a brand new suit donned his broad shoulders. He looked like he was the oil baron Trelawny was conning him off as. If not a little rough around the edges. 

You hadn’t originally agreed to this con. Dutch thought it’d be good, and Trelawney promised it would go right. He just needed you and Arthur to play your parts perfectly - his of a new to money oil baron, and you, a charming wife on his arm. 

Granted the wife thing had thrown both you and Arthur for a bit of a loop. 

Twenty years of pulling card cons with Hosea was going to pay off one way or another. No one ever thought a beautiful young woman could cheat her way through a game of poker. It gave you an advantage. 

Stepping up to Arthur you smiled, twining your arm through his. “Now, dear,” you tutted, holding your head up high, shoulders back as you walked at his side. “Mister Strauss tells me everything will be set for you?”

“Josiah, too,” Arthur grumbled, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “You think this Blythe fella will fall for this?” 

“Of course,” you nodded. “I won’t be at the table with you, unfortunately,” you sighed, smiling genially to a porter as you stepped into the casino. “But do have fun.”

***

An hour later you had excused yourself from a blackjack table, pocketing the pile of chips as you headed off to the table where Arthur sat. The group of men he had started playing with hadn’t dwindled, leaving no room at the table as the men played.  

“Ah, there you are dear,” you smiled, placing a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and bending low as you slid a bill fold into his jacket pocket. “I do hope you’ve not squandered all your money, you promised me a romantic dinner when you were finished.”

“Of course I did,” Arthur smirked. “Mister Desmond Blythe, my wife, Misses Callahan.” The others sitting around the table all rose slightly as you were introduced before taking their seats once more. 

“A pleasure,” Blythe said with a small smirk, rising a bit to greet you before sitting back down and turning to the deck of cards he was shuffling. 

“Why don’t you join us, hm?” Arthur smirked, pulling you down to sit on his knee, hand wrapping around your waist. “My good luck charm, if you will.”

You chuckled, mostly from nerves as he settled you on his knee. The others around the table joked and conversed, seemingly ignoring you and Arthur. 

As the seats emptied, you excused yourself from Arthur’s lap, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Strauss says ‘all in’.”

Arthur smiled as you walked off, weaving through the tables and back towards the bar where Trelawny was waiting. 

***

You had run for cover as shots rang out on the boat, huddling with some other patrons as the shoot out ensued. As you trudged along the docks of Saint Denis later that night, hair having fallen from its pins, you cursed Dutch’s Boys. 

A shoot out? On the riverboat you were robbing? 

Trelawny said this would be an easy job. You had no idea whether Arthur, Javier, Josiah, or Strauss had even made it out safely. 

“You said it would go swimmingly,” Arthur’s voice echoed across the darkened docks, mimicking Trelawny’s drawl. 

“Oh thank God!” you sighed, shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to Arthur and Trelawny. 

“It looks as if our little dove has flown out unscathed,” Josiah smiled, sweeping a hand in your direction. “All’s well that ends well, right, Mister Morgan?”

Arthur threw his arm out dismissively as Josiah walked off, replacing the top hat on his head as he did. As he turned back to you, you threw your arms around his middle, sighing in relief. Ear pressed against his chest, his heartbeat picked up as you hugged him, curling into him as tight as you could. 

“You’re an idiot, Arthur,” you smirked into his chest. “What the hell happened?”

Arthur sighed, relaxing as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. His height difference made it a bit comical in your mind, how he bent over your frame, hugging you back with as much force as you. “We’re fine. But we gotta go,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

“Right,” you nodded, stepping back and brushing stray hair out of your face. “Right.”