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vids-rdr2-artblog · 2 months

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Saving Mary-Beth

I wanted to write a little fic where Kieran shows off that he’s not really a coward and saves Mary-Beth after she’s been kidnapped. I might write a second part that’s just pure fluff.

Pairing: Kieran and Mary-Beth

Trigger Warnings: Violence against women, Murder, Abuse, Time period sexism.

(Please do not read if you are sensitive on these topics!)

7,203 words

Thank you @glenechoslasher for beta reading for me <3

Read it on AO3

***

Mary-Beth ventured into Rhodes with Mr. Pearson, having volunteered for the task for many different reasons—she loved to check and see if there were new books or authors listed in the newspaper and to simply get away from Miss Grimshaw. There was this relief that prickled the back of her neck when she knew that the woman wasn’t right there, breathing down her neck in the back of the wagon, and there was a sense of freedom seeing the open roads rather than their crowded camp.

Pearson talked the entire way, so Mary-Beth didn’t bring a book, as much as she’d rather drown herself in words rather than his nonsense. This man probably had his lungs stored in his stomach or had a second pair because Mary swore she never saw him take a breath between his sentences. But she listened to him anyway, glad the trip between Rhodes and Clemens Points wasn’t long.

“I’m glad you like to listen to me, Miss Mary!” Pearson said, sounding genuinely excited, which did make her feel good in some way, “Sometimes the others don’t like to listen to my stories, but you’re a good girl, Mary-Beth. When people say someone doesn’t have a mean bone in their body, you’re who I think of. I should take you on trips more often!” He laughed.

Mary-Beth became flustered and nodded, not wanting to say anything to bring down the mood of the jovial man, “Of course, Pearson. I think I read something in a book once about a brave navy man who sorta reminds me of you.”

Pearson perked up. “Oh? What book?”

Mary-Beth thought of a quick lie, a finger to her chin, “I don’t remember because it was so long ago, but if I find or remember it, I’ll tell you immediately!”

“Thanks, Mary. I’m not sure if I’d read it or not, but it’s great to see when great men are recognized.”

Pearson’s smile grew as he flicked the reins of the horse a bit more vigorously, and eventually, they reached Rhodes. It was sometime around 1pm, not too early and not too late into the afternoon. Thanks to Arthur being deputized here in Rhodes, she didn’t fear the lawmen as much as she did in Valentine and didn’t worry that they would be watching her every move. The folks here were a lot calmer and some of the women actually waved to her as she passed by. Welcoming, really. But man did she hope that the people of Rhodes didn’t think that she and Pearson were man and wife. A feller could get the wrong idea seeing them arriving on the cart together. She supposed however that if they had to hide their identities that way, then she would have to go through it even if she didn’t like it. Though her inner reader was curious and she had wondered how a romance between a couple with the likeness of them would interact. The girl did have a wild imagination, after all.

Pearson parked the wagon next to the general store and the two climbed down, meeting at the back of the wagon. It seemed that they came at the right time because the train had just reached the station, its whistle blowing in the air. The man put his hands on his back and stretched his body, Mary hearing a few pops as she did so. He whistled at the store, “I’d love to have one of these puppies sometime. I think it would be exciting to run a shop like this!” he said excitedly before turning toward their empty wagon. He took out pieces of parchment from his pocket and handed one to her but kept the other for himself. “Alright then, I’ll have you get the stuff that we need from the general store and then I’ll go over to the butcher for some real meat. Arthur’s been good at gettin’ money for us, but he ruins a lot of the meat he brings to us, skinnin’ them himself…Plus I want something other than venison once in a while…” He grumbled mostly to himself then resumed, “You got all that?”

Mary-Beth nodded excitedly and held the note to her chest, “I got it, Pearson. When I’m done, I’m going to go find the newspaper boy, OK? I want to see if there’s been any new releases or authors.”

“Sure, sure.” Pearson nodded then took money from his pocket, “Here’s the money from the box. Buy ONLY what’s on the list or else Dutch will have our heads. You shouldn’t have to pay the men to put everything in the wagon, so let me know if they try to trick you.” He pointed a finger. “I’ll meet you back in an hour, Mary-Beth. An hour.”

“An hour, yes. Will do, Pearson.” Mary-Beth smiled and glanced over the list. Most of what he had put was canned vegetables and fruits, bread, and luxuries such as tea, cigarettes, and chewing tobacco. She was surprised to not see ammo on the list but some of the other gang members probably took care of that separately from a simple grocery trip.

Taking the list to the man behind the counter, “Hello, I have a pretty big order to put in, can I get some men to help load some crates and put them on my wagon?” “Sure can.” The clerk pushed the catalog to her and she pointed out everything she needed and read off the number that was on the list. Reading it to him also gave her the comfort that she wouldn’t be scammed because she was a woman. Most men assumed that women couldn’t read, so she made sure to show that she could. “When do you think you could take it out to the wagon?”

The man answered as he rang her up on the cash register, “Oh, you’ll be able to load it immediately. We’re actually well-staffed, and my young men will be able to help ya. Maybe about fifteen minutes.” He smiled and told her the amount she needed to pay.

Mary counted the bills and handed them to the man. She double checked the change before pocketing it. There would always be a side of her that believed anyone was capable of scamming her only because she was the type of person to do the scamming herself. She leaned against the counter with her hands, “It’s the wagon parked out next to the store. My companion is over at the butcher’s and he might come back in time to help out too. Do you need me to wait here, or could I go on another quick errand?”

“My boys will start putting your order together now and start loading on yer wagon. They’re fine boys too, I ain’t never had to swat them once. So you can stay and watch or come back when we’re done.”

Mary-Beth smiled and nodded, pushing off the counter, “Thanks sir, I won’t be too long. I just want to grab a newspaper. Do you know where it’s at?”

“Oh, the boy likes to move around town, but I think I spotted him toward the saloon, if you know where that is.”

“Uh huh, I do sir. Thank you!” Mary-Beth pocketed everything and left the general store. After taking a quick glance over to the butcher’s and seeing that Pearson was still busy haggling with the butcher, Mary-Beth headed toward the saloon with a chipper smile on her face, comfortable walking around the town by herself since it didn’t feel dangerous at all.

As she headed up the road and toward the saloon, she kept her ears open for a newspaper boy, announcing the next paper but heard nothing. Maybe he sold out that day…Damn…Maybe the saloon had a copy that she could borrow for a couple of minutes.

Mary-Beth placed her hand on the door to the building but it didn’t budge. Damnit. Locked. Were they closed or was she just at the wrong entrance?

Making her way along the side of the saloon, she kept her eyes on the windows, trying to spot anyone inside. There wasn’t, and from the little that she saw of the bar, she noticed that even the bartender was out. It was strange to see the saloon closed at such a weird hour of the day, but maybe all towns acted differently than each other, and maybe not everyone here was a stupid drunk.

Mary-Beth came around the back end of the saloon and just as she did, she heard voices. She instantly hid along the edge of the house. Two Irish-speaking men had a man wearing an apron held against the wall, a gun at his abdomen. Down at their feet was the body of a younger man. Dead. Mary-Beth looked behind her and realized that she had been so busy looking into the windows that she hadn’t noticed the blood trail right under her shoes. She had walked into a murder scene in the making.

Mary-Beth’s instincts told her to flee. Just seconds after she saw the scene, she turned to leave, her jaw clenched shut. But someone was there now. She met the stale breath and before her stood a man. Then, there was a blinding pain above her left eye, right on her temple, his arm casting a shadow over her. Blood poured out from the gash on her head immediately. She hadn’t been knocked out immediately, but she fell back enough that the men behind the saloon noticed and dropped the man in the apron. She tried to crawl away but there was pressure in her lower back as her attacker pressed his heel and spur there. “What do we have here?” The one who had held a gun to the man in the apron approached, using the butt of his gun to lift Mary-Beth’s chin, causing a searing pain slice through her forehead. He swatted her hand away when she instinctively went to touch it. She could barely think of words to say.

“A witness. I saw her peeking around the corner at the two of you.”

“Tsk. Tsk. I hate to kill such a pretty thing, but I did tell the dead feller over there that there would be no witnesses. I’d be a bad man if I didn’t keep my promises.”

Mary-Beth flinched when his thumb pulled back the hammer of his cattleman, cocking it.

The third man pulled his shoulder back enough that he stopped the man from shooting Mary-Beth. It took the woman a few seconds to realize that her brains hadn’t been splattered along the ground and that she was alive.

“Wait a second there, I think I recognized her. I think I saw this woman in that livestock town with that shitty Arthur Morgan once. She might be a part of the Van Der Linde gang.”

Mary-Beth’s blood ran cold. Were these Irishmen O’Driscolls? She was in trouble…

The man with a gun whistled and looked down at Mary-Beth with hungry eyes. “Well, will ya lookie here. A simple armed robbery is turning into a gang heist. I won’t even ask you if you’re a part of the gang. If you are, then they’ll come save you. If you aren’t or if they’re dumb enough to save such an insignificant whore like yourself, then we’ll just kill ya. We won’t be wasting any of our supplies because we won’t feed ya. How does that sound, bitch?” He didn’t wait for an answer, not that she would have answered him in the first place, “Tie her up.”

“No—!” But before Mary-Beth could scream, her attacker kneeled right on her back where her lungs were, knocking the air from them. He shoved a nasty-tasting cloth in her mouth before tying her up with a lasso, pulling her arms behind her back.

The O’Driscoll, with the gun, holstered it before he kneeled in front of her, sticking his finger into her blood, making the pain in her head significantly worse. She didn’t know what he was using her blood for but he kept pressing his thumb in the same spot before he finished whatever he was doing. “Take her to the horses, use the train to not be seen. And you…” He turned to the man with the apron, pointing his gun at him now, “Not another word of what happened here, yeah? We know where you work and where you live, so even if you blab about what happened here after we’ve left, we’ll come back and kill your family then force feed you their guts. Got that?”

The man in the apron nodded, quickly disappearing inside, glad that his life had been spared, even if it cost this woman he didn’t know.

The last thing Mary-Beth remembered was being carried by the two men, one at her legs and one at her shoulders. With the throbbing headache she had, she was hardly able to squirm, and unable to scream. They carried her across the train and to their horses hidden on the other side.

Who would save Mary-Beth?

Pearson returned the wagon and didn’t find Mary-Beth there. It wasn’t strange, considering she said he was going to track down the paperboy. Plus, it hadn’t been an hour exactly. So, he placed the carefully packaged meats and placed them on a crate that had already been loaded by the shop. He saw the boys bringing out a few more crates.

One greeted him with a smile, “There’s just four more inside, sir.”

“Bring 'em’ out here and leave them on the stairs. I can get the rest of it from here.” Pearson took out two dollars from his own pocket and gave them each one for their hard work. They thanked him before bringing the rest of the gang’s provisions out and setting them at the top of the chairs. Pearson expected Mary-Beth to be back by the time he loaded up the last of the crates and strapped them down, but she wasn’t.

She’s probably just talking to a local. She’s a good, chatty girl. We can’t go anywhere with the train being there anyway.

And so Pearson waited. And waited. The longer he waited, however, the worse he began to feel, especially when he heard the whistle of the train before it slowly left the station. There wasn’t quite anything right about this. Mary-Beth wouldn’t have told him one thing and then done another. Something must be wrong.

“Mary-Beth?” he asked and looked down the alleyways around the general store and even the buildings surrounding it. Nothing. Wait, she did talk to the general store man, maybe he knows something. So, Pearson stepped into the building and walked straight up to the man, “Excuse me sir, my womanly…companion came up to you earlier to pay for the stuff that’s in the wagon next to your store. I can’t seem to find her though, did you happen to see where she went?”

The clerk cocked his head. “Oh yes, I did. She was looking for the newspaper, so I pointed her in the direction of the saloon.”

“Okay, thanks, sir.”

“No problem, thank you for your purchase, and have a good day.”

“You too.”

If Mary-Beth went to the saloon for a drink then it would make sense as to why she hadn’t returned yet. If she were a man. Mary-Beth was so…feminine and it didn’t seem to be like her to wander off for a beer or two. If it had been Karen with him instead, then there would be no doubt about it that she went out for drinks, but Mary-Beth didn’t do that sort of thing. Not to his knowledge, at least.

Pearson made a quick trip to the saloon. He wasn’t sure if it had been busy beforehand but there were a couple men who looked more sober than the bartender themselves, so they must have just gotten there.

“S’cuse me, you see a woman around here?” Pearson approached the bar and tried to ignore the hungry look in the men’s eyes when he said the word woman.

The bartender looked drunk and dissociated from his job as he cleaned an already cleaned glass, only smudging it more. There was a nasty bruise on his eye, leading down to his jaw. Pearson wondered what happened to him. He probably shouldn’t have asked in the first place and just searched around the place himself. He only didn’t want to seem like a creep or worse, a thief.

“Nope. Not around here.”

“Alright, thank you kindly,” Pearson said without revealing much more to the conversation so the men who were drinking didn’t get any funny ideas.

Pearson snuck around the side of the saloon before his stomach dropped. There on the ground was a drop of blood, leading to around the back of the saloon, accompanied by larger dried splotches of blood. His immediate thought was of Mary-Beth. Oh god, she’s dead! Mary-Beth is dead and I let her die! However, when he looked closer at the blood, he noticed that it wasn’t fresh and more dried up. He wasn’t an expert at human blood, but after skinning dead animals for as long as he had…He could tell when blood was new and old. It couldn’t have been more than an hour. This wasn’t Mary-Beth’s blood. However, it didn’t mean that there couldn’t be anything waiting for him around the corner.

Following the blood, he stepped around the corner and found a mutilated body.

There was a young man. Probably late teens or early twenties. Probably around the same age of the men who helped load his cart. His eyes were gone and lacerations around his body explained the blood that soaked the ground. It already had a decomposing smell of it, tangling with the smell of vomit and alcohol. While he didn’t like murder like this—it was overkill—he was secretly glad that he didn’t encounter the body of Mary-Beth torn to shreds.

Pearson stepped closer and noticed a piece of wood with a knife in it laid out on the palm of the dead man’s hand. The closer he got, the more he realized that there was blood on the wood too, but it was fresher, drawn out methodically on the wood. He had to kneel to read the blood writings, which sent a chill down his spine.

DVL

3 DAY

COLM

And then there was a drawn picture of a location with a noose on it.

There, lying next to the dead man’s hand was a cut lock of Mary-Beth’s hair and a torn piece of cloth that matched the same color and texture of the dress she had been wearing. The blood on the board was Mary-Beth’s. It was fresher compared to the dead male’s, making the man want to vomit.

Pearson’s mouth dried when he concluded what had happened. The O’Driscolls had kidnapped Mary-Beth and left a message for Dutch and Arthur about where to meet them. The O’Drisicolls had them by the balls and were steering them in the direction that they wanted them to go.

Pearson tore the knife from the board and hid it on his belt, unsure if it was what ended this man’s life or was just left to accentuate their message. After hiding the lock of hair and cloth that would link Mary to this man, he grabbed the wood and rushed away from the scene as fast as possible, not wanting to be caught. Good thing the time meant that most men were working, though he wondered if they had gone at a different time if this would have even happened at all. Mary-Beth would be back at camp with her nose buried in one of her books.

As much as he wanted to go to the sheriff, he knew he couldn’t. It involved his gang and the O’Driscolls! That wasn’t a good combination.

Getting back to his wagon as fast as he could, Pearson raced back to his camp, constantly looking over his shoulder, not wanting to be ambushed on the way back, or followed back to camp. At some point along the ride, he considered abandoning the wagon and riding the horse back to camp, but he would still risk being followed and at the additional loss of money and supplies.

“Who’s there?” Came John’s rough voice when he came close enough.

“It’s Pearson!” Pearson raced on by, doing his best to not tip the wagon by how fast he was rolling into camp. The horses whined the whole way, having been spent racing back to the camp, sweating and desperate for water. When they came to a halt, the young O’Driscoll approached to untether them. Seeing Kieran made Pearson’s blood boil and face turn red, but it hadn’t been Kieran’s fault this happened, just the gang he used to run with so he did his best to not direct his anger toward him.

Pearson rushed directly toward Dutch’s tent, catching everyone’s attention from the fast pace he clearly wasn’t used to doing. Dutch sat in the chair outside his tent, a book in one hand and a cigar in the other. Arthur was thankfully in camp, just in his own tent.

“Dutch! Arthur! We have a BIG issue right now!”

Arthur perked up upon hearing his name and slowly sauntered his way over to Pearson and Dutch, his hands on his belt, “Oh yeah? What’s that? You eat all our groceries on the way back from Rhodes?”

“Now is not the time for jokes Arthur.” Pearson took the wood out, some of the blood smeared on his fingers but thankfully not enough to make the writing illegible. He also took the knife from his belt loop. Dutch and Arthur stared at the knife, intrigued, Arthur, stood up a bit straighter when he saw how serious Pearson was acting. It was unusual for him.

“Well, then spit it out already!” Arthur tore the cigarette from his mouth and threw it to the ground. “What the hell happened?”

Since he had stopped running, there was an unsettled feeling in Pearson’s stomach. He felt like he was about to throw up.

“Dutch…Arthur…Mary-Beth was taken by the O’Driscolls… They left us this note with her blood.”

The moment O’Driscolls was brought up, Dutch’s face became red. “WHAT?! What did you see, Pearson?!”

“NUTHIN!” Pearson gasped, “She wandered off when I was at the butcher’s and they kidnapped her when she was behind the saloon. There was also a dead body behind there. The bartender had this ugly bruise on his face, so I have a feeling he saw something, but if we try to talk to him, it might link the gang to the O’Driscolls,” he explained, the words flying out of his mouth, “They left this with Colom’s name and a lock of Mary-Beth’s hair. They’ve got her fer sure now….” He handed the wood over. Arthur leaned over Dutch’s shoulder to read what the blood was, his eyebrows furrowing.

By then the rest of the gang were gathering around, particularly the girls. Tilly held a hand over her mouth, “Mary-Beth…She was taken? Oh, Pearson…” Tears were in her eyes.

Pearson could hardly look at them all, all their faces that of a grieving person in mourning. He felt a lot of shame for letting this happen to such a vulnerable woman. But Mary-Beth wasn’t dead, or at least he hoped that she wasn’t. He couldn’t live with the thought of getting an innocent woman killed.

Kieran found himself on the edge of the conversation, but not close enough to hear the conversation. He had been so busy taking the horses off the wagon that he nearly missed it entirely. He brought each horse to the water trough, which they drank greedily before he joined the congregating crowd. What’s going on here? He wanted to ask but kept his mouth shut when the eyes of this gang had fallen on him. Had he done something wrong?

Well, if they were staring at him, then it had something to do with the…

“O’Driscoll, what did you do?!” Karen abruptly snapped at Kieran. Everyone seemed shocked at her outburst, seeing how kindly she treated Kieran at camp. There weren’t any tears in her eyes, but her face was worse than a raging bull’s.

“W-What do you mean?” Kieran asked, stuttering but not showing any lack of confidence. He kept his composure. “I ain’t done nothin’ other than take care of the damn horses lately,” he added defensively.

“Your O’Driscolls KIDNAPPED MARY-BETH!”

Usually, Kieran would have fought them on this. Would have yelled that he wasn’t an O’Driscoll! But ‘Mary-Beth’ and ‘kidnapped’ mentioned in the same sentence was something he didn’t like to hear. He couldn’t argue with them this time.

“They took Mary-Beth…?” he gasped and looked over toward Arthur, “We have to go save her! They’ll do awful things to her.”

Arthur squinted his eyes at the man as if observing them for anything suspicious, and Kieran hated the feeling that it left in his stomach. “You mean you had nothing to do with this?”

“Of course not!” Kieran spat out, flaring at Arthur’s accusatory tone, “I like Mary-Beth and I hate the O’Driscolls. You should know that by now 'cause I tell it to you every day!” He hissed. “We can’t spend time here, just wasting, we have to go and track her…Who knows what they will do to her.”

“Leave that to me,” Charles said, ready to jump on his horse that second.

“Wait just a minute!” Arthur said, holding his hand out, stopping everyone from doing anything stupid, “There’s a date written here, and they’re goin’ to expect us to meet them there at that time, or else. Charles, you can go, but you have to be extra careful. One wrong move on ANY of us is goin’ to end Mary-Beth’s life.” He pointed his finger at everyone as he spoke to them.

From the looks of the entire camp right now, everyone was willing to pick up their guns right now and hunt down their sick rivals. Some like Grimshaw and Lenny already had their guns out and ready.

“And the note was addressed to only Dutch and me. We’ll have to be the ones to go. If they see more than us, it won’t be pretty for us and Mary-Beth.”

“But you’re gonna be outnumbered by those idiots…” Bill argued, his hands clutching at his sides, not because he particularly liked Mary-Beth but because he hated how the O’Driscolls could easily try to blackmail them. “You never know how many people they’re gonna bring, Arthur. You need more than two men…”

“If they lay a hand on Mary-Beth, I’ll fucking tear their balls off…” Sadie gritted her teeth. Not another woman whose life was on the line thanks to this gang…

“If you should take anyone extra, then it should be me,” Kieran volunteered, stepping forward. “I don’t think they would be intimidated if they saw me.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah! Might be able to trade him for the girl. Take him with ya.” He shoved Kieran forward by his shoulder.

“Not a bad idea.” Arthur rubbed his chin.

If it came to that, then so be it, Kieran thought to himself. Mary-Beth had been the first one in the gang to be kind to him, to show Kieran the proper respect he deserved as a person by giving him that small glass of water. It had meant so much to him. There was no way in hell he would allow people like the O’Driscolls to hurt someone as gentle as her. If it meant that he had to trade his life for her, then maybe he could do something good and prove himself, even if he didn’t make it out alive.

“Oh, Mary-Beth…Please be okay…” Tilly kept a hand to her mouth, then spoke softly to Kieran, “Please get her back for us.”

Kieran spoke softly to her, “I promise that we’ll get her back, Tilly. Arthur and I ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen to her, we promise…”

“You better.”

Mary-Beth tried to imagine herself in a whole new world, completely separate from the reality of hell she was currently facing. She was a princess and her prince charming sat across from her on the blanket, feeding her strawberries and telling her how much he would marry her and care for her. The bitter yet sweet taste in her tongue was imaginary but it was helping her free herself from the flames threatening to engulf her. She dissociated, forgetting anything that the O’Driscoll men did to her the moment they happened.

She didn’t know when her own gang planned to get her, if they were even coming for her at all. Her hands were tied behind her back, connected to her ankles, making it impossible for her to move unless she twisted her body around, and even then it was far too painful for her to do that. She would be too exhausted before she could break the ropes.

If Mary-Beth had been listening, she would know that she had two days before the O’Driscolls were going to lay her out for bait, two days before she would learn if she lived or died. The gang planned to use her as bait, to lure the two strongest members of the Van Der Linde gang.

One of the O’Driscolls approached her. She saw his boots right in front of her face and smelled the shit he had stepped in earlier. Her nose wrinkled and she refused to meet his eyes. “Oh, what a squirmin’ bitch ya are,” he laughed and spat on her face, making Mary-Beth flinch and swallowing a whimper climbing its way up her throat. She was surprised that he didn’t kick her before he stormed off, laughing and drinking with his friends—having an early celebration of the fall of the Van Der Linde gang.

Just remember your prince charming. Hell, you’d accept Sean as your prince charming at this point, she spoke mostly to herself, in her head and attempted to put herself back into the world of the last book she had read, imagining herself as the main character and Kieran as her prince charming.

Wait.

Kieran…?

Why did she think of Kieran?

Sure, the two had been flirty with each other before, but she had never seen him in such a romantic light, or even imagined…kissing him…

But the memory soothed the aching in her heart, so her mind played the same scene over and over again as the days passed.

Kieran and Mary were in the meadows, sitting on a blanket softer than anything she had ever felt before. Wait, was it a cloud? There was a whole buffet of food laid out in front of her, and no matter how many bites she took, it never emptied. Behind them were two horses grazing and snoozing together. And whenever she looked at Kieran’s face, she felt the happiest she had ever been in a long time…

Sometimes her brain had convinced herself this was reality. She wanted it to be.

Mary-Beth was half asleep when a man grabbed her arm and cut the bindings, made her legs release, making them cramp, and her muscles scream in pain. Her hands were still tied as he pulled her to her feet, yelling at her as her legs wobbled and she would have buckled had the men not held her up.

“Where…Where…” she mumbled before she was interrupted.

“Shut up, you bitch.”

A cloth was shoved into her mouth, forcing her to be quiet.

“Put the woman on the back of the horse.”

Mary-Beth’s stomach lurched as she was lifted by her waist. She grunted as she was laid on the back of a chestnut colored horse, her stomach feeling the pressure as she was laid on her stomach. Never in all her life had she been hogtied and put on the back of the horse. She whined but shut up quickly to avoid them yelling at her any further.

A man climbed on the back of the horse, kicking its sides with sharp spurs that were close to her face. Mary-Beth, with her eyes constantly on the ground, couldn’t tell where they were going. All she could do was count the seconds. It took them approximately seventeen minutes to pull to a full stop, the men whispering around her.

“Quick, get the girl ready. They could be watching us and pop out at any moment.”

Mary-Beth saw the shoes of one of the O’Driscolls before they lifted her up. Instead of taking her off the horse, they shifted her into the saddle. All she could do was watch in horror as the men threw a rope over the branch of the tree they were under, a noose hanging at the end of it. She began to strain and pull on the restraints on her wrists but someone held her still as another pair of hands grabbed the noose and pulled it over her head. She felt tears as the noose pressed against her throat, tightening enough that it wouldn’t slide off her and only tighten when she fell off the side of the horse. They were going to hang her. Holy shit, they were going to fucking hang her! After that, she fell absolutely still, no matter how badly her body screamed at her to move.

“Two hours…If they’re not here in two hours just slap the horse and let it run.” Mary-Beth couldn’t see them, but an O’Driscoll stood behind her, a hand on the rear of the horse, who luckily remained calm for now. She relied on that calmness. But the woman wondered if the horse would feel her anxiety and become agitated before running off.

“Then leave her body. Maybe they’ll come back later and find her hanging and learn their lesson…We don’t spare the innocent.”

Please, Arthur. Sean. Charles. Kieran. She whispered the names like they were saints, praying they would come to rescue her.

Time passed, but Mary-Beth wasn’t counting this time. Every second felt like an agonizing hour.

“How long has it been?”

“About an hour…”

And so they waited even longer. Mary-Beth’s thighs were aching from how tight she was squeezing on the horse’s saddle.

An arrow sliced through the air, hitting the man behind Mary-Beth. The action was so abrupt that there was a moment of stunned silence. The horse shifted but luckily didn’t run off. Mary-Beth looked up, seeing the trees across the horizon, but saw no one in sight. Were her saviors still out there? “They’re he—” Another arrow whizzed through the air, shooting the man in front of her.

“DAMNIT!” Mary-Beth looked in horror as one of the O’Driscolls raised a gun in the air. No, no, no! Mary-Beth cried out in her mind, screaming and crying, wishing she could keep the horse in place.

A gun fired, and then hellfire began. At first, it was arrows, and then it was gunshots.

Mary-Beth stared in terror as the horse’s ears flicked back. It freaked out before running forward, Mary-Beth hardly able to stop the rope from tightening around her neck. Just as the horse ran out from under her legs, arms wrapped around her body, desperately holding her around the waist and legs in a way to keep herself up.

Even as the gunshots were heavy in the air, Mary-Beth was able to stare down at the person holding her. It was Kieran. KIERAN More tears formed in her eyes as she saw the man struggling to keep her up, to keep her from hanging right there.

“SHOOT THE ROPE, SHOOT THE ROPE!” Kieran called out.

Mary-Beth did her best to sit as still as possible, but everything was aching and she could hardly keep herself up as her body was crumbling quickly and she was hardly able to control what limb twitched. A choked cry escaped her throat and tears were impossible to hold back.

An O’Driscoll stormed up to the two of them, his gun raised, ready to shoot Kieran between the eyes. Right as he pulled the hammer back on his revolver, there was a rifle shot, and blood splattered on Kieran’s face and on Mary-Beth’s dress. Then there was a second shot, and the rope around Mary-Beth’s throat became very loose. Mary-Beth fell on top of Kieran, taking the two of them to the ground. Kieran was on his feet a second later and grabbed Mary-beth by the shoulders. Even though she would have not wanted to be dragged anymore, there was a mutual and silent agreement that safety was more important as Kieran dragged Mary-Beth into the forest and brush, hiding them from the gunfight. Kieran sat back on the ground and pulled Mary-Beth flush against his chest. As quietly as he could, he took the cloth from her mouth and fumbled with his knife, cutting the bindings from her wrists, freeing her completely.

Mary-Beth’s mouth was open, tears in her eyes when she realized it ached more to shut her mouth from how long the cloth was stuck in her mouth. Kieran was about to pull away from the woman, to give her space, but Mary-Beth grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her body—feeling safe and protected like in the dreams she had hidden in the past few days. She closed her eyes and cried silent tears.

Kieran hesitated but could tell that she just needed to be held for now. He kept her close to his chest as the gunshots thinned and the voices of the small group of O’Driscolls died out completely. They were all dead. But he remained quiet until he knew for sure that it was safe to come out.

“Mary-Beth? Kieran?” Came Arthur’s voice.

Mary-Beth couldn’t speak.

“We’re in here—!” Kieran stuttered and pulled himself and Mary-Beth up, taking the two of them out of the brush.

When Mary-Beth saw Arthur, she practically fell into the arms of the man. “Oh Arthur…! You call came for me!” she sobbed.

Arthur awkwardly wrapped his arms around Mary-Beth. “Course we did. You’re a part of the family. We wouldn’t have left that to ya, all alone.”

“Are they all dead?” she asked, her bottom lip quivering.

Arthur nodded. “Dutch has one of them tied up right now and is talking to them. Otherwise, yeah. They’re all dead. Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled her back, looking her up and down, seeing the bruises and tatters on her. “Oh, Mary-Beth…You need to get back to camp. You think you can take her, Kieran? I’m gonna stay back and help Dutch get information out of this damn maggot.”

“Yes, please, I want to go back now. Is Pearson OK?” Mary-Beth asked.

“Don’t worry, Mary-Beth, he’s alright. Just get her to camp, Kieran.” Arthur walked away.

Kieran nodded and put his hand on Mary-Beth’s elbow, guiding her all the way to Branwen. When they were at the horse, he gently touched her arm. “Mary-Beth, I am SO sorry fer what happened to ya. Are ya okay?”

“I…I think so. I just want to get back to camp.” She approached Branwen from the side and turned her back to the horse, facing Kieran. “Can you help me onto the horse, please?” she asked, her arms slightly raised. “Everything hurts too much.”

“I sure can…” Kieran nodded and put his hands on her waist. He lifted her onto the back of his horse, feeling even more guilty as she winced in pain. The last thing he wanted was to cause her even more pain. After that, he climbed into the saddle in front of her, then raced off back to camp. His heart pounded with the leftover adrenaline from the gunfight, but it soared higher when Mary-Beth wrapped her arms around his waist and she leaned her cheek against his back. She…Wanted comfort from him? Him, of all people? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he was glad that she could trust him.

Kieran knew that there would be a group gathering when they returned to camp, so he made sure to approach quietly and calmly, hitching his horse at one of their posts. He got down and held his arms out naturally to take Mary-Beth off the horse. By the time he turned around, he saw the group gathering—just as he thought.

“Oh, Mary-Beth!” Tilly cried out and ran before anyone else could. She ran to her best friend and hugged her, keeping her close. Mary-Beth broke down into tears as she hugged Tilly back. Kieran backed off and gave the woman some space, his hand on Branwen’s neck. However, he watched from afar. He watched as Mary-Beth was given new clothes, and how John gave her his tent so she could have privacy for a while. Karen, Grimshaw, and Tilly came in and out of the tent often, checking in on Mary-Beth. Sometimes he heard her crying, and it broke his heart.

Sometime later in the evening, when it was darker than it was light, Kieran approached the flap of the tent and whispered, “Mary-Beth, is it okay if I came in?” he asked and waited for her answer.

There was a small sniffle. “Oh, yeah, it’s okay…”

Kieran came in, carrying a tin plate of stew. “Have ya ate yet?” he asked.

Mary-Beth sat on John’s cot, wearing one of her other outfits. The old clothes had been burned as no one, especially her, would want to attempt to stitch such clothing back together.

“Oh, no…I ain’t…I just haven’t had the appetite for it, but I probably should soon.”

“I got something for ya. Eat what you feel like ya can.” Kieran came in and moved across the tent and sat down next to her with the stew, handing it to her. Mary-Beth smiled fondly and sipped some of the broth. At least her stomach could handle that.

“Mary-Beth…Yer awfully brave. Most don’t have the confidence when in the presence of an O’Driscoll.”

“Oh Kieran…” she whispered, “It was awful. I thought I was going to die…I thought they were gonna hang me. Had you not caught me, who knows whether I would have suffocated or if the rope would have snapped my neck right away. I wasn’t ready to die.”

“I’m glad I was there, Mary-Beth. I don’t know how you survived that…” Kieran’s hand touched hers, but then he hesitated. She noticed and immediately brought his hand back when he tried to take it away.

“I just…I just imagined myself inside one of my books. I guess escapin’ into my own head was something that helped me…” Mary-Beth admitted Kieran, squeezing his hand. “It kept me alive until you saved me, Kieran. You’re a real hero. Thank you so much…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held the man, who she sort of related to in some way now. She wasn’t sure if she should tell Kieran that she imagined that he was her imaginary hero. She didn’t have to though—Kieran was her real hero now.

#mary beth gaskill #kieran duffy #kieran x mary beth #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr #rdr 2 #rdr fanfic #rdr 2 fanfic #rdr2 community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanart #red dead redemption 2 fanart #rdr2 fandom #red dead 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two

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gothicgender · 4 months

Text

Navigation🕸

Salutations, welcome to my blog. I'm Blake but you can call me blaky or Liu aswell, however you prefer ! To say something about me I use they/them or neutral pronouns and want to become a writer. I may have bad grammar because I'm not english.

Requests - open

Request rules :

I will write for my fandoms because I'm more used to them.

The fandoms I'll write for are Hazbin Hotel, creepypasta, monster high, harry potter and maybe teen titans.

I am comfortable writing fluff, smut, angst, romantic, platonic and other stuff requested...tho I won't write smut that is too freaky or with weird kinks that I'm no comfortable with.

I can write fem, male and gender-neutral reader.

I can write headcanons or small fics about ships I also like because find it more easy then to write a ship I don't see happening or that I personally don't like.

I wouldn't like to be rushed with requests because it can be really stressful !

Do not be afraid to request and be specific with it !

Characters I will write for !

Hazbin hotel :

Chalie

Vaggie

Alastor

Angel Dust

Husk

Sir Pentious

Cherry Bomb

Rosie

The overlords (expect Valentino)

Lucifer

Lute

Adam (probably)

Mimzy (probably)

Katie Killjoy

Tom Trench

Ships I accept :

Charlie x Vaggie

Husk x Angel Dust

Valentino x Velvette x Vox (I believe they are poly)

Sir Pentious x Cherri Bomb

Carmila and Zestrial

Creepypasta :

Jeff the killer

Ben Drowned

Homicidal Liu

Bloody Painter

Ticci-Toby (probably)

Jason the toymaker

Candy Pop

Eyeless Jack

Hobo Heart

The puppeteer (maybe)

Kagekao

Laughing Jack

Nathan the nobody

Jane the Killer

Nina the killer (both versions)

Rogue

Kate the chaser

Nurse Ann

Suicide Sadie

Judge Angels

Clockwork

Zero

Lulu

Laughing Jill

Nemesis

Ships I accept :

Jane the killer x Mary (her canon wife)

Kagekao x Suicide Sadie

Bloody Painter x Judge Angels

Nurse Ann x Dr. Smiley

(other you can suggest)

Monster high (gen 1 or 2) :

Clawdeen Wolf

Draculaura Vike

Frankie Stein

Cleo de Nile

Lagoona Blue

Ghoulia Yelps

Abby Bominable

Jinafire Long

Iris Clops

Operetta

Robecca Steam

Rochelle Goyle

Scarah Screams

Skelita Calaveras

Spectra Vondergeist

Toralei Stripe

Purrsephone and Meowlody

Twyla Boogeyman

Venus McFlytrap

Marisol Coxi

C.A. Cupid

Casta Fierce

Elissabat

Clawdia Wolf

Viperine Gorgon

Deuce Gorgon

Clawd Wolf

Heath Burns

Holt Hyde

Invisi Billie

Jackson Jekyll

Neighthan Rot

Garrot du Roque

Kieran Valentine

Manny Taur

Ships I accept :

Clawdeen x Draculaura

Clawd x Draculaura

Cleo x Deuce

Abby x Heath

Ghoulia x Sloman

Frankie x Jackson

Spectra x Porter

Rochelle x Garrot

Scarah x Billie

Iris x Manny

Harry Potter :

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Fred and George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Alicia Spinnet

Lavender Brown

Parvati Patil

Dean Thomas

Neville Longbottom

Ginny Weasley

Lee Jordan

Angelina Johnson

Blaise Zabini

Pansy Parkinson

Tom Riddle

Theodore Nott

Daphne Greenglass

Millicent Bulstrode

Cho Chang

Padma Patil

Luna Lovegood

Marietta Edgecombe

Penelope Clearwater

Michael Corner

Hannah Abbott

Susan Bones

Cedric Diggory

Ships I accept :

Harry x Ginny

Ron x Hermione

Neville x Luna

Molly x Arthur Weasley

Bill x Fleur

Draco x Astoria

Angelina x Alicia

Teen Titans :

Robin (Dick Grayson)

Starfire

Raven

Beast Boy

Cyborg

Bumblebee

Blackfire

Terra

Madame Rogue

Chesire

Punk Rocket

Ships I accept :

Robin x Starfire

Raven x Beast Boy

Jinx x Kid Flash

This is all so far ! Thank you for visiting my page.

#hazbin hotel #creepypasta #harry potter #monster high #teen titans #writing

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allzelemonz · 1 year

Text

Clothes: Kieran Duffy X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘son’ and ‘mister’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: G/Fluff Warnings: Dutch is questionable, arguing with Dutch, Dutch is a dad, standing up for Kieran, love confession, budding relationship, very fluffy Kieran Duffy Summary: You’re fed up with the way the gang treats Kieran, so you do something about it.

The man has been tied to a tree for a long time now. He gets water on a rare occasion, but hardly ever food. He’s been wearing the same clothes the whole time too. When he came back with John he wasn’t tied to the tree again and now he’s attempting to contribute to camp. He gets food and water regularly now, but he’s still in the same clothes.

“Hey, Kieran.” You say, standing by the tree line.

He looks up from the saddle on his knee. “Hey, Mister.”

“You wanna go into town with me?”

“Into town?” He asks, glancing at Dutch’s tent.

“Don’t worry about Dutch, you wanna go or not?”

He looks down for a minute, thinking. “You, uh, you sure Dutch won’t be mad, Mister?”

“If he is, he’ll be mad at me.” You say. “Come on.”

Kieran carefully puts the saddle away and joins you by the path. You mount your horses and ride into town without much incident despite the recent O’Driscoll sightings. You lead Kieran down the road and hitch in front of the saloon. A few townspeople say hello, recognising you from your few trips into Valentine.

“Here.” You say, tossing Kieran a coin. “Go to the hotel, get a bath.”

Kieran looks from you to the coin. “Ya don’t have ta do that, Mister.”

“I do. Because if I have to hear Miss Grimshaw talk about the other men in camp smelling I will throw myself off of the cliff.” You say.

“Oh.” Kieran looks away from you.

“You deserve a little relaxation after all that captivity.” You say, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I’m not paying for anyone else, the others can go in the river for all I care.”

“Well, I, uh,” Kieran takes a breath, collecting his thoughts. “Thanks, Mister.”

You turn to your saddle bag and pull out a stack of clothes. “Take these too.”

Kieran takes them from you. “Are ya sure? I don’t want ya spendin’ all yer money on me.”

“I didn’t spend any, I’ve had those for years.”

Kieran’s face goes a little red. “You’re-you’re givin’ me yer clothes?”

“You need them, I don’t.” You wave him off. “Go on, I’ll be here.”

You leave Kieran by the horses and go into the saloon. From the window you see him walk to the hotel and disappear inside. You take a table by the door and order some food for you and Kieran. You know Dutch will likely be upset when you get back, but Miss Grimshaw will be happy that one less of the men smells like horses so it’s a decently even trade. Your loyalty may be questioned, Bill and Sean will certainly think so, but Kieran’s a good guy. Even for a former O’Driscoll.

You can see Kieran through the window as he leaves the hotel. Your clothes don’t look too bad on him. He enters and sees you so he sits across the table. You point to the plate in front of him.

He shakes his head. “I told ya, I don’t want ya spendin’ all yer money on me.”

“You think this is all my money?” You chuckle. “As annoying as Micah is, he picks good jobs. I robbed a stage with him yesterday, I got money to spare.”

“You sure, Mister?” Kieran asks, looking down at the food.

“It’s already paid for, Kieran. Eat.”

“Thank you.” He says, meeting your eyes.

You nod with a small smile and he starts to eat. Compared to the constant stew from Pearson, you know how good saloon food can be. You relax in your chair as Kieran eats, having already finished yours while he was at the hotel.

“Anyone talk to you about a tent yet?” You ask as Kieran finishes his last bite.

He shakes his head. “You’ve already done enough, Mister. Ya don’t need ta-”

“So no.” You cut him off. “I’ll talk to Dutch then.”

“Really, Mister, you’ve done enough.” Kieran says. “I appreciate it, but ya don’t gotta do all this for me.”

“I want to.” You say, sitting up in your chair to look at Kieran.

“Why?” He asks. “Everybody else around here still calls me an O’Driscoll!”

“I’ve met O’Driscolls.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re not an O’Driscoll.”

“You mind mentionin’ that ta Dutch?”

“I do, almost on a daily basis.”

“Ya do?”

You nod. “It’s mostly Sean that says it, I think he does it to annoy me now.”

Kieran smiles to himself. You correcting people is one thing, but the fact that it annoys you when they call him an O’Driscoll is a whole other, much more meaningful, thing.

“Let’s get back so I can face Dutch’s long winded speech.” You say, standing.

Kieran follows you. His mind is on a lot of different things now. He’s wearing your clothes, you took him into town and bought him food and a bath, you’re going to talk to Dutch so he doesn’t have to. He thinks about this for the whole ride back to camp. You’re too nice to him and he can’t wipe the smile from his face, even as he hitches his horse next to yours.

“And where, may I ask, have you been?” Dutch asks, his hands on his hips as he stands halfway between you and his tent.

“Town.” You answer simply.

“With the O’Driscoll boy?”

“I was watching him, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

Dutch sighs. “And if he had gone running to those O’Driscolls we’ve seen all over town?”

“He didn’t.” You say, looking over the forming crowd. “It’s not a big deal, Dutch.”

“It is, son.” He shakes his head. “You have no idea how big of a deal it is.”

You sigh. “Let’s talk then, Dutch. You tell me what makes it such a big deal.”

“Sure, son.” Dutch gestures to his tent. “Come on in.”

Never before has Dutch been terrifying to you, but now he seems like a monster hiding in plain sight. Some of the traits you’ve heard about the infamous Colm, you’re starting to see in Dutch. The members of the gang watch as you go into Dutch’s tent and he drops the covers. Kieran’s heart is nearly beating out of his chest as he makes himself go back to work.

“I know you care for the boy, son, but I can’t risk him running off to Colm.” Dutch says, handing you a cup of tea that you know Hosea brewed earlier.

“He has nothing but respect for everyone here, he’s thankful for you getting him out of there, Dutch.”

He shakes his head. “I just can’t let him run around with O’Driscolls about.”

“Wherever he goes, I will go with him.” You say. “I have no problem babysitting him, Dutch. If that’s what you really think is necessary.”

Dutch sighs, tapping his finger on his cup of tea. “I can’t lose a good man like you on these jobs we have planned.”

“You won’t.” You say, putting your cup down. “He’s fine while he’s in camp, right?”

“I just don’t know, son.”

“I’m not asking for you to tell him all your plans and let him run off into the sunset, Dutch!” You say, frustration starting to set in. “I just think you could treat him a little more like a person.”

“I let that boy, that O’Driscoll, live. I think that is plenty.”

“You and I both know he’s not a real O’Driscoll.” You sigh. “You want loyalty, Dutch? Make him feel like you’re someone worth being loyal to.”

Dutch stares at you, his eyes settling on the implied accusation you’ve put in the air.

You sigh. “You brought all of us in and gave us a home. You are a father to half of us, a brother to the rest. Why not Kieran?”

Dutch shakes his head. “I understand your frustration, son.”

“I don’t think you do.” You lean back in your chair. “Would you be like this if I used to work for Colm? If Charles did? Lenny? Sean?”

“That ain’t fair, son.”

“It is.” You say. “You keep calling me son, Dutch. Can you act like you mean it and trust me on this?”

Dutch’s eyes are on the ground. His hands clutch his cup and you know you’ve hit something. It could be a nerve and he might yell or it could be a heart string and he’ll have some sympathy. If there is one thing the man cares about, it’s his found family.

“I will watch him. He can stay with me and if he does anything O’Driscoll related I will kill him myself.” You say, voice low to let Dutch know you want peace out of this.

He’s still for a minute, then he nods slowly. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine. But he is to stay with you at all times, son.” He says. “Unless you are out making money for the camp, you need to keep your eye on him.”

You nod, a smile coming to your face. “I got it. I will, Dutch. I promise.”

A smile comes to Dutch’s face too. “One more thing.”

“What?”

“Tell the boy how ya feel.” He says, relaxing in his chair. “I have a bet with Hosea I would like to win.”

You chuckle. “Of course you do.”

“And do it by the day after tomorrow.” Dutch stands to open up the tent again. “Otherwise I lose. You know how I feel about losing, son.”

“Got it.” You nod.

You walk from Dutch’s tent, resisting the urge to punch Bill as he glares in your direction. Kieran is brushing Silver Dollar, half focused because he notices you right away. He holds the brush with both hands, stepping away from the horse.

“Are you alright, Mister?” He asks.

“I’m fine, Kieran.” You sigh. “Dutch says you can leave camp as long as I’m with you and you can stay with me in my tent.”

“H-He did?”

“With some convincing.” You nod.

“Ya didn’t have ta do that.”

“Stop saying that, Kieran.” You sigh. “I wanted to.”

“Why, Mister?”

Kieran has a little hope in his heart. Just a little bit of hope that you’re not just doing this out of good morals.

“I’m sweet on you.” You say with a breath that feels like a hundred pounds off of your chest. “Or, I, uh, I hope to be. I guess.”

Kieran can’t breathe for a minute. “Ya are?”

You nod. “I mean, I don’t think all that we’ve done is right to do to anybody, but I also just like you, Kieran.”

He smiles, looking down at the ground. “Dutch really said I can stay with ya?”

“He said I have to keep an eye on you.” You nod.

Both of you have dumb smiles on your faces that you try to hide for no particular reason.

“Keep an eye on me?”

You laugh. “It’s getting dark, come on.”

Kieran sets his brush down and follows you slowly across camp to your tent. With the sun setting you turn on the lantern and let Kieran look around. Your tent isn’t that big, just enough that it shows your seniority as one of Dutch’s better guns.

“I, uh, I can get another bedroll from Miss Grimshaw.” You say, looking down at yours. “I’m sure she has a few extras.”

“I think she’s asleep.” Kieran says, taking his hat and holding it to mess with. “We, um, I don’t mind sharin’ with ya.”

Your dumb smile turns into a grin and you dip your head to hide it.

“I mean, if ya want to.” Kieran says, his hands tightening their grip on his hat.

“I-I, uh, I do.”

“Good.” Kieran smiles. “I, uh, I never said, but I’m sweet on ya too.”

“I’d hope so.”

Kieran smiles, his heart beating fast again as you take his hand in yours. You pull lightly, leading him over to the bedroll. You sit, Kieran following you.

“I have to go on a job with Javier in the morning.” You say,letting his hand go. “Sorry if I wake you up, it’ll be early.”

Kieran nods. “I don’t mind.”

You nod, looking everywhere but his face.

“Ya wanna go ta sleep?” Kieran asks.

You chuckle. “We gonna do this every night?”

Kieran laughs along. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Kieran.” You smile, laying down. “To me, at least.”

Kieran lays down next to you, a small gap of space between you. You turn on your side, making room for him on the small bedroll and he moves carefully closer.

“Ya sure about all this?” He asks.

You sigh. “Very.”

You rest an arm on top of Kieran, careful not to trap him in case he wants to back away. He doesn’t, he returns an arm around you and closes the gap between you. You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, falling asleep quickly after the emotional exhaustion of the day. Kieran watches you for a moment, as you drift off, before following you himself.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #kieran duffy #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy x male reader

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adayinthelifeofyn · 26 days

Text

Valentine - (Kieran Duffy x Reader)

Type Of Story: Fluff/Lyric Fic

Song: Valentine by Laufey

I've rejected affection

For years and years

Now I have it, and damn it

It's kind of weird

(Y/N) had a hard life having to learn to steal and distrust from a very young age. The years hardened their heart until it was nothing but stone becoming harsh and deadly in order to survive the harsh lands of the Midwestern.

It surprised no one when they eventually joined a gang in their 20’s. They seemed to fit right into the rest of the misfits that was the Van der Linde Gang yet there was one person that caught their eye…..and it seems they have caught his too.

He tells me I'm pretty

Don't know how to respond

I tell him that he's pretty too

Can I say that? Don't have a clue

When those words left his mouth (Y/N) was stunned for a moment.

“You're very pretty.” the gang's whipping boy had said to them one day. No one had ever called them pretty yet the camp's prisoner, Kieran Duffy, had said it as if it was pure fact.

“You're just saying that to butter me up for something.” they had said back not believing he actually meant his words.

He looked like a kicked puppy when he heard that making (Y/N) for once feel a bit of guilt for their words.

“I don't mean any disrespect…..I think you're the prettiest person i've ever seen….” he said in a quiet tone now before he was called off to do something else. What he said stuck with (Y/N)....more than they would like to admit.

With every passing moment

I surprise myself

I'm scared of flies

I'm scared of guys

Someone please help

'Cause I think I've fallen

In love this time

I blinked and suddenly, I had a Valentine

From that moment on (Y/N) couldn't help but keep a close eye on Kieran. From that they realized he wasn't a bad guy.

He was sweet and mean well enough. They started to hang around him more. Talking and quickly becoming protective of the Irish man. Something that didn't just surprise everyone in camp including Kieran but themselves as will.

Slowly they noticed their heart start to beat faster when he was around…..

What the hell was happening to them?

What if he's the last one I kiss?

What if he's the only one I'll ever miss?

Maybe I should run, I'm only 21

I don't even know who I want to become

I've lost all control of my heartbeat now

Got caught in a romance with him somehow

I still feel a shock through every bone

When I hear an "I love you"

'Cause now I've got someone to lose

It was almost a year to the day now.

And they know it was now….or they would chicken out again.

Tonight was the night they were going to tell Kieran how they felt for him. Just as they had taken a deep breath and went to leave their tent to go talk to Kieran they had run into him just as he was about to call out to them from outside their tent.

Before they could get any words out and with his face like a fire he cut in saying as quickly as he could how deeply he was smitten with them.

From their smile to being able to beat up someone twice their size he said he loved everything about them and more.

And once he was done…he quickly turned to leave as if to avoid whatever their answer was. Only for them to grab his arm and pull him back.

Say their grace and seal it with a kiss.

The first one to ever like me back

I'm seconds away from a heart attack

How the hell did I fall in love this time?

And honestly, I can't believe I get to call you mine

I blinked and suddenly, I had a Valentine

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr2 kieran #rdr2 x reader #kieran duffy #kieran duffy rdr2 #kieran duffy x reader #fluff #lyric fic

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sednonamoris · 10 months

Text

blood of the covenant

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: Arthur and Abigail make a promise. You and John have a chance to find out what that means for you, if you’re brave enough.

Warnings: Christian religious imagery/blasphemy, strong language, canon-typical substance use and abuse, mild fluff

Word count: 2,432

A/N: Chapter 20, and what a milestone she is!! I hope you all enjoy this one as much as me - it was an absolute joy to write 🥰

Series masterlist • AO3

—

The threat of Pinkertons so close to camp has everyone on edge, especially since the law found you as quickly as it did in Scarlett Meadows. Everyone but Dutch, it seems. You and Arthur both agree that you should’ve moved camp by now, but you haven’t, and life must go on, so the robbing and killing has hardly stopped on that account.

Camp life is business as usual.

Ms. Grimshaw watches over all, holding the girls to a punishing standard. Dutch schemes. Hosea worries. The boys terrorize Valentine’s saloons and homesteads and lonely dirt roads. Pearson takes every opportunity to talk about his Navy days over a daily pot of stew filled with game that Charles brings in. Reverend Swanson oscillates between fits of passion and pain and morphine melancholy. Uncle can be found propped up napping anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes you stick a boot in his ribs as you pass just to make sure he’s still alive.

John, for his part, is consumed entirely by his sheep rustling scheme. He splits his days between Emerald Ranch and Valentine’s stockyards, which is probably for the best because Arthur and Abigail haven’t been shy about playing happy family with Jack. It’s like the tentative truce forged after the train job between brothers is all Arthur needed to open the cracked shell of his heart fully. The way he looks at Abigail - the way she looks at him - tugs at heartstrings you’d thought long-severed. Mrs. Adler watches them from the edge of camp with a wistful look in her burnt-barn eyes, mouth caught between a smile and a snarl. Even Kieran stutters out a comment about how sweet they seem when he’s sure Arthur won’t hear.

Trusting in how peaceful— how happy things have been is hard, but you can’t say you miss the tension and misery from before. It’s… nice. It feels nice.

—

You’re more surprised than you should be when Arthur and Abigail come up to you, eyes bright and cheeks flushed and looking so strikingly young, to tell you they’re getting married. In town. Today.

“We just need a witness,” Arthur says. The asking is implied.

“Can’t you take Mary-Beth? She loves this sort of thing,” you try to deflect, caught between joy and discomfort. “I doubt there’s a church they’d let me in, even.”

It’s not that you aren’t happy for them - you’re thrilled. But to actually go with them and sign documents and make things official in the eyes of the law and the God you’re on such bad terms with? It feels like a lot. It feels a little like a betrayal, still. Your eyes search for some kind of comfort in John’s figure across camp, but it’s in vain. If anything, it reminds you how precarious this joy is. How a selfish part of you wishes to lay claim to more of it.

“We want it to be you,” Abigail smiles.

You shouldn’t.

But her eyes are pleading. You start to wilt under the happiness and hope that shines through them like the sun. “Please, Ghost.”

You’re not sure how anyone’s ever said no to her, the way she blinks up through her lashes and grasps your hand in hers and smiles so sweet. And Arthur is no better. It’s hard to remember a time he’s been so happy. So hopeful. The broadness of his frame has taken on a boyish lightness that wasn’t there even when he was a boy.

Shit.

“Fine,” you finally relent. “I guess I know the Reverend in town.”

The relief and excitement on their faces is almost worth the knot of nerves in your stomach.

—

“My friend!” Reverend Hampton calls out when he spies your approach.

You make to shake his hand but he pulls you in for a hug instead. You return it awkwardly and flash a bashful grin. “Reverend, these are my good friends, Arthur and Abigail. They’d… Well, they’d like to be married today. Can you help us?”

His smile, broad and warm and maybe even a little smug, is all the answer you need.

While he procures the necessary documents the three of you fidget near the altar in an otherwise empty church. Muted rays of midday sun fight their way past cloud cover to reflect greens and reds and golds through stained glass. It paints the French blue of Abigail’s finest dress mosaic, like she’s some kind of Mother Mary that walked right out of a window pane. She alternates between clutching the bouquet of wildflowers that Tilly helped Jack pick to her chest and beaming up at Arthur. He stands stiffly opposite her in a suit that doesn’t quite fit, itching at the collar. His returning smiles are a crooked and genuine show of teeth, like he still can’t believe he made it this far. Like his body has a hard time accommodating happiness this size. He’s spent so long in self-inflicted loneliness.

Maybe you have, too.

All four of you cry and laugh in equal measure when the vows are exchanged. Forever recited back in different shades of blue. Arthur places the ring on Abigail’s finger so delicately it makes your heart ache. He kisses her just as tender, just as careful. You look away and wipe at your tears. The Reverend pronounces them man and wife. Arthur prints his name on the marriage certificate afterwards in careful, elegant script. You both smile encouragingly when Abigail signs her X on the line beside it.

Yours fits just off to the side. You have to stop yourself from signing Ghost.

“You know,” Arthur says to the Reverend as you all turn to leave, “we know a Reverend. He ain’t nothin’ like you.”

Reverend Hampton’s expression manages to be both serene and amused. “Every Shepherd has his flock. I am honored to have been trusted with his today.”

You snort. “Figures you’d say somethin’ like that.”

Arthur and Abigail go on ahead to the wagon hand in hand. It’s impossible to miss, decked out as it is in the tinsel and bells Mary-Beth scrounged up to make it appropriately romantic. You linger a moment longer at the chapel’s threshold with the Reverend.

“Thank you for this,” you say. Your eyes trace the joy on your dear friends’ faces. “Feels like I’m always in your debt.”

“Nonsense, my child. I am in yours. You have brought life and love here - that’s all an old man could wish for. But please,” he says, and turns to squeeze your hands in his, “do not squander this chance at your own happiness.”

You tuck your chin and stare at your boots while embarrassment burns from your chest to your cheeks. “I’ll try.”

He smiles. “That’s all we can ever do in this life. Go in peace.”

—

You drive the wagon home to the sound of hoofbeats and tinkling bells and laughter and love. It starts raining along the way, light and clean. Lances of sunlight beam through the clouds.

—

“Mr. Morgan,” Dutch greets, a shine in his dark eyes. “Mrs. Morgan. We sure are glad to have you back.”

Jack runs up past everyone with shrieking laughter. “You’re so pretty, Momma!”

And she is. A vision in blue, swept up in Arthur’s embrace. He carries her down from the wagon just to hear her laugh.

The girls coo over the ring on her finger while the boys shake Arthur by the shoulder with grins wide enough to swallow him whole. Choruses of that ring is so pretty and you finally grew some balls and I bet the church was nice inside and can’t believe you squeezed into that suit and won’t you spin for us form that familiar symphony of family you’ve come to count on all these years.

John lingers on the periphery of it all, but he makes a point of stepping forward and shaking Arthur’s hand before the dancing starts. He reaches for Abigail’s hands and murmurs something close to congratulations.

“Thank you, John,” Abigail says through shining tears. A little sad. A little overjoyed. A little relieved, even.

Arthur can’t find the right words, but his eyes say it all for him.

“Sure,” John grimaces a smile, “sure. You two… be well. Really.”

They whisk away to the sound of music crackling from Dutch’s gramophone, leaving him beside you with a half-broke heart. John shakes his head at the silent question posed by the tilt of your head, so you settle on the edge of the celebration to watch them whirl in ¾ time. They’re given time enough for a few twirls and dips all their own before the others start to join in.

The rain hasn’t let up. But sometimes it’s good to dance in the rain, and it’s not so damp yet that you can’t light a cigarette. You inhale deep and sigh out smoke before passing it to John without a word. He always ends up bumming off you anyway.

“Was it nice?” he asks through smoke-filled lungs. His gaze never strays from the happy couple.

“Yeah,” you say, then huff half of a laugh. “Made me cry.”

He eyes you without turning away from the dancing. “Really?”

“Really. That goddamn Reverend always gets me… weepy and shit.”

“Easy with the blasphemy, there.” A smile ghosts across his face.

“Or what? I’ll be struck down by lightning?” you scoff. “Be doin’ me a favor. Then I won’t have to listen to you ask about things you don’t wanna know.”

“Shut up,” he says, but he’s smiling now. It’s one of the real ones - one of the rare ones - that goes a little lopsided and softens the sharp flint of his eyes. You’re unreasonably proud of yourself for it.

He turns to face you, now, hesitant. Something about the way he looks at you makes you shift in place. “What?”

“Do you…” he starts awkwardly, clears his throat. Holds out a hand. “Will you dance with me?”

You look at his hand, then at him. It’s hard to hide your smile, so you give up trying. “Long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“Can’t promise that,” he laughs an awkward little laugh as he takes your hand and leads you into the fray.

The song playing now isn’t quite as upbeat, so the tempo is a little easier on his two left feet. You let him lead through the simpler steps and take charge when he falters through the more difficult sequences. It’s a perfect give and take. He even manages not to squash your toes.

“I know this ain’t an easy thing,” you say lowly, so only he can hear you over the music. “Can I ask how you’re feeling now?”

He sighs. “I feel… I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I reckon Abigail was right about—” he cuts himself off there and swallows. His cheeks stain red past the rain. He can’t look you in the eye.

“Right about what?”

“Nothin’. Me and her not bein’ right.”

The song ends, so he spins you out one last time and then you face one another with a bow before melding back into the edge of things. He grabs a beer for each of you from a nearby crate. There’s more there, something you know you’re missing, but you don’t press. Feels like you never do. Instead you clink your bottle to his drink to new beginnings. To things working out the way they’re meant to.

—

The rain clears up just before the sun sets and paints the sky in dewey blues and golds past the few lavender clouds that remain. Silk dresses and wedding bands. Songbird wings and sunshine. Happiness. Hope.

—

Arthur is busy being newly married and tying up loose ends for Strauss, so when the time comes just a few days later John brings you in on his sheep scheme instead. It’s a simple enough thing to scare off the ranchers and take over their wooly charges. You’ve done a bit of farm work here and there, and Moonshine has a real knack for it. Old Boy is less interested in the sheep, but John does a decent job for a man without any real experience.

You run them into Valentine with little trouble.

Trouble comes instead from the foreman at the stockyard who eyes the both of you, scarred and mean, with suspicion. You guess you can’t blame him.

“Fine sheep,” John says. He’s awful proud of himself.

The man shrugs. “They’re alright.”

“You got much better?” you say, but you already know where this is headed.

“I got plenty with less… ambiguity about their provenance.” He makes a point of eyeing your beat up clothes and unconcealed weapons.

“Those are real fancy words, mister. Not sure I take your meaning.”

He doesn’t smile. “I’ll make it simple, then. You give me twenty-five percent kick back and I don’t say nothin’ to nobody.”

“The fuck do you think I look like?” you snarl, stepping up in his face. A scam is a fine idea, but getting scammed yourself? You don’t take kindly to that.

He doesn’t flinch. “I think you look like a low-down criminal, and I know folk swing for rustlin’ ‘round these parts. Twenty-five percent. I won’t say it again.”

You open your mouth to argue but John grabs your shoulder to pull you back and steps forward in your place. “Fifteen.”

“Twenty.”

They haggle back and forth while you stew in your discontent and glare at the other hands until they finally shake on eighteen. You shake as well with a look that could kill, but don’t say another word until you and John make it back to the horses hitched a little ways away.

“Eighteen? Really?”

“Like you could do better. I mean what were you gonna do? Beat him? Kill him? Then what?”

You scoff, but it’s hard to argue his point. “Fine. I guess it’s better than nothin’.”

“You’re damn right it is. This worked out, relax.” He mounts up. “Dutch wanted me to meet him and Arthur at the saloon. I’ll see you at camp?”

“Sure,” you say. “Try not to get so drunk you can’t find your way back. It’s only noon.”

He laughs. “I’ll try. It’s been that kind of week.”

It sure has.

You ride back at an easy lope on a loose rein, enjoying the day and the lightness in your chest that’s been there since the wedding. A bad deal on good sheep feels like nothing at all compared to that. Nothing at all.

By the time the gunfire sounds, you’re too far away to hear it.

#john marston x reader #rdr x reader #rdr2 x reader #ghost story #ch. 20 #fran writes

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nicolesainz · 1 year

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Secret love song (MØ 8)

Martin Ødegaard x f!reader

Warnings: fluff to its core

A/N: It will be the first time I write a one shot from the male perspective and first time I write about Martin, so hope I don’t disappoint

Summary: First times are difficult. Even if that means saying three powerful words

“Come on Martin. What’s wrong with you? Just say it!” I say to myself, shaking my head, wanting to get my shit straight.

“What’s wrong man? Everything alright. You seem stressed” Ben White’s voice echoes in my ears, as I feel his arm on my shoulder.

“So it’s that apparent, huh?”

“You always are stressed but this time it looks like you’ve reached its peak. If I can help anyhow, tell me Martin”

My palms are sweaty and my throat is drying as minutes go by. This feels like torture and as I keep to myself those three little words, the more they haunt me in my sleep.

Tonight, Y/N, finally had time to attend a home game with Manchester City, as we battle for the first place in the league. The excitement I had when she broke the news, blasted all over the room.

Seeing her in the grandstands, wearing an Arsenal shirt, with my name plastered on its back, with her mesmerizing being brighter than every light in the stadium, gives me strength.

“Y/N is here today. And I think it’s finally time, Ben”

Not a lot boys from the team knew about Y/N. Only Ben, Bukayo, Aaron and Kieran. Besides Kieran, the other three had interacted with her many times whenever the England squad gathered.

And the reason I say England squad, is because she is Aaron’s sister. He was the one who introduced us at first place and from the very first night, she absolutely took my breath away.

“So that’s why you’ve been sweating as if you’ve been walking on hot sand at the Sahara.” Ben let out a small laugh, but seeing how worried I was he instantly stopped.

“Dra til helvete, rasshøl” (Fuck off, asshole) I say as I give him a slight kick.

“At this point, I know when you talk shit about me, Ødegaard. So, instead of insulting my grace, go talk to her!” He jokes around, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but clearly doesn’t.

“It’s not that easy. She’ll hate and avoid me if something goes sideways. How will I ever face her again if she shows up at more games?” I go back and forth, trying to reason myself in order to calm down.

“Hey hey hey! Look at me!” Ben held me still and shook me so I looked him in the eyes.

“From the way she talks about you, I believe that everything will be alright” Wait…what way? And how does Ben know? Does she talk about me to her brother or someone else?

“What do you mean? Spill or I’ll kick your leg even harder” I wouldn’t actually do it. It was my nerves talking. I was even more flushed and anxious right now.

“Whenever the squad meets, she always asks where you are, as if she doesn’t know that it’s only the England boys. We all tease her and then Aaron calls you out of nowhere”

That explains everything now. I’ve been receiving calls from the boys over a few Saturdays after the games, with all of them laughing and a woman’s voice in the back. It was her!

Flashback, to Valentines Day, a few months ago…

I was home alone after practice, with no one, but Netflix playing a stupid movie Erling had suggested me.

I just needed it to get my mind off. I was a coward once again. Today I had a great chance at telling Y/N how I feel and I blew it. I chickened out and left the very moment with a lame ass excuse.

“I’m so sorry. I need to rush home. My dad fell off the stairs”

My dad was in Norway, miles away from here. And was probably fishing. But she didn’t know that.

When I was almost falling asleep, my phone rings and wakes me up abruptly.

It was Aaron.

“Everything okay mate?” I say, looking at the time. It was 11 pm.

“Surely my guy. What about you? Happen to have any beautiful girl over there?” Aaron voice was dubbed by the yelling and laughing of the other England players. They were definitely all drunk.

“If he doesn’t, let’s give her to him. I’m sure they’ll get busy with one another.” Ben Chilwell screamed from the background and a woman’s voice followed.

“Find a girl first and then talk about me, Chilwell” she replied snarkily, although I couldn't understand who she was in between the loud music and shouting.

"Do you want me to pick up any of you guys? Seems like you've had a fair share of drinks, huh?" I say letting a soft sigh escape my mouth.

"Nahhh, we are just fine. Although someone definitely would want to be picked up. Hey-" and Aaron's sentence was cut in the middle as he hung up.

I shook my head disappointingly and went to bed that day, with the biggest heartache and three words ghosting over my head.

I love you

End of flashback

"Let's go out there and win this. If you score a goal, dedicate a celebration to her. I am sure she will appreciate this afterwards" Ben hit me a few times on the back and pushed me forward, as the Captain of the team had to go out first.

My nerves were all over the place and very clear to everyone else too. Okay Martin. Dype åndedrag (deep breaths), like Ben said, alt kommer til å ordne seg (everything will be alright).

The fans went wild as the game started very strong with the side of City, immediately going full on attack with all their defenders marking us.

They had a few chances of scoring but thankfully Aaron deflected all of them perfectly. So far, things were going okay, but the score still was nil-nil, with the ball possession being in favour of City.

It was now a few minutes before the end of the first half and the ball was around Erling's feet. When he is about to reach the net, I kick the ball in the air and Haaland ended up falling messily on my leg.

I let out a massive yelp, holding my leg with my hands, somehow wanting to ease the pain. The referee doesn't blow the whistle, which means the game still goes on with me and Erling helping each other get up.

"Beklager, men dette kunne ikke ha skjedd på noen annen måte" (Sorry, but this couldn't have happened any other way), he says to me, reaching for my hand and picking me up.

"Been through worse. It's okay", I say back and run as fast as I can towards my teammates, who were trying to steal the ball from Walker's 'embrace'.

The first half whistle blows and it's still nil-nil. Fuck, we need to do better. I need to do better. I raise my head and my eyes immediately fall on Y/N, who has been caught staring at me, with her cheeks fully flushed and a worried look in her eyes.

To her disappointment, she can't come down to the changing rooms, so instead, in order to check on me, she points at her leg and gives me a thumbs up and down signal.

I smile shyly, with my heart fluttering, as I give her a thumbs up and a small wave, before heading back to the rooms. If only I could hug her right now and tell her that even if we lost, all I cared about was not loosing her.

"Martin, how is your leg? Can you continue or do you want me to sub? Your call." Arteta asks me looking one time in my eyes and the other down to my leg.

"I can do it, boss. No problem here" I reply to him, with a stern look taking over me.

"Please, don't gamble with your health. If you are not feeling okay, tell me." he says one more time, wanting to make sure I was fully agreeing with what I said.

"I can play. It was just at the spur of the moment. Doesn't hurt" I assure him as the ref comes up to call us back on the pitch.

He nods at me and the squad goes out for a final time this evening. We need to score. We can't give up. I shouldn't give up. I need to fight.

The only thing helping me carry on was the sweetheart going by the name Y/N, watching us from the grandstands and having every bit of her faith lying on us. Lying on me.

And the game is back on. We do better than the first half, with the possession of the ball being at our advantage. Everything is going from better to best as Martineli assist Bukayo and he scores the first goal of the night!

We all go around and hug him, as happiness can't be contained. The fans roar and wave their flags in honour of this amazing goal and Saka.

Unfortunately, City equalised a few moments later around the 83 minute, with Grealish being the surprise scorer of the match, as he avoids the defence of Saliba, Ben and Kieran and sends the ball right on the net, with Aaron being unable to react.

My eyes land on the time board. 88 minute. Shit.

I wave at Jesus to pass me the ball as I was the only one unmarked by the City players and closer to the net. There was a fifty-fifty chance I would catch the ball and be able to score. This time, I gambled and proved myself right.

I manage to get the ball my way and with a hard headshot I send the ball in the net, making it a 2-1 at exactly the end of the game! The whole stadium got up and started yelling from the explosion of happy emotions and we had won a massive derby against our biggest rivals of the season.

"You, fucking Captain Ødegaard, did this! Thank you" Ben says with a huge smile on his face turning me around and pointing towards Y/N's way, who was jumping up and down filming the whole moment. I take my chance once more and shape with my fingers a heart at her.

She pays me back with another heart, as the filming stops, whilst pointing at my name on her back, signing the number one. This, was my sign to tell her how I feel. It was now or I would forever hold peace.

After the celebration with the team, we all dress with dry clothes and head outside the stadium now that it had emptied from the crowds. Every player, run to either their family or girlfriend.

Aaron looked at me and mouthed "go talk to her", as he was walking towards his fiancée.

For some reason, I didn't feel nervous or scared. I felt confident and sure about what I was about to do. It was surely risky but I had a gut feeling, this would work out perfectly.

She looked at me as if it was only the two of us, surrounded by no one else, with her embrace fully open for me to land in. How I wish this would become my permanent safe place.

I ran up to her and gave her the biggest possible hug, I have ever shared with someone. I could feel her heart beating in sync with mine and I instantly knew, why I did love her.

I love her because she can turn ones day from bad to extremely amazing. She can make you laugh, without trying too much. Only with her wit and charm. She can create a feeling of safety with a simple touch. But most importantly, she can make you fall in love with her, with a single smile.

She doesn't have time to react after the hug, as my lips fall on hers softly. My one hand cups her cheek whilst the other is tangled up with hers. She doesn't fight me back as the kiss gets deeper and more passionate, as it was a way of saying how we both felt this entire time.

She pulls my hand and places it on the side of her heart, so I could feel how fast it beat. How fast it was beating, only for me. My lips form into a smile as we break apart and look at each other with full adoration. If I could, she would be the only person I looked at for the rest of my life.

I didn't care about any trophy or championship. If my career ended now, I wouldn't care, if it meant having her by my side.

"I love you. More than you can possibly imagine. Day and night, this was all I wanted to say but the fear of losing you, held me back" I admit to her, trying to catch my breath.

"Jeg elsker deg, Martin. And honestly, I can't love anyone more than you. It feels impossible. But I am glad it is. I never want this to change" she lands into my arms once again, this time with a soft feeling caving into my heart.

#martin odegaard one shot #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard fluff #martin odegaard fanfic #arsenal #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard

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elmatadorisgay · 4 months

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Valentines Oneshots, Dialogue Prompt 13!

The Prompt: “Aww, what’re you doing here, shortie? Trying to get my favorite mug?”

“Ah!- You weren’t supposed to be awake yet!”

Ship: Nick Pope/Kieran Trippier

Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Domestic, Valentine's Day, breakfast in bed(failed), Height Differences, short/tall dynamics

Link:

#football rpf #football #writing #ao3 #football fanfics #nick pope #kieran trippier

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ghostsbeetle · 1 year

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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

#resident evil #red dead redemption #dead by daylight #fallout #inside job #requests open #writing #silent hill

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sillygraham · 8 months

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Resident Evil !?

Ashley Graham ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

I wish ✧ angst

Finally home ♡ fluff

Leon S. Kennedy ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Great love ✧ leon x ada / fluff

Ada Wong ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Great love ✧ ada x leon / fluff

Jill Valentine ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

I Guess ✯ angst

Ethan Winters ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Rosemary Winters ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Jack Krauser ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Claire Redfield ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Karl Heisenberg ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Chris Redfield ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Moira Burton ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

The Last of us !?

Joel Miller ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Ellie Williams ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Abby Anderson ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Dina Woodward ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Tommy Miller ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Mortal Kombat !?

Johnny Cage ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Cassie Cage ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Sonya Blade ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Mileena ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Erron Black ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Sindel ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Li Mei ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Kitana ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Ashrah ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Syzoth // Reptile ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Kenshi Takahashi ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Tomas Vrbada // Smoke ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Tanya ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Liu Kang ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Overwatch 2 !?

Ashe ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Cole Cassidy ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Angela Ziegler // Mercy ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Red Dead Redemption !?

Arthur Morgan ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

John Marston ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Peace ✷ angst

Sadie Adler ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Sean MacGuire ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Javier Escuella ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Mary-Beth Gaskill ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Kieran Duffy ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Tilly Jackson ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Charles Smith ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Devil May Cry !?

Dante ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Nero ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

Nicoletta Goldstein // Nico ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

n/a . . .

#sillygraham #masterlist

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authurials · 2 years

Text

𝐅𝐀𝐐.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 fandoms and characters i could/will write for, as well as what i will and will not write in terms of content; please refer to these lists when considering requesting from me and respect the boundaries i have set forth.

requests are currently { 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ! }

⚜ 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 ─

smut (refer to list below for hard limits), fluff, angst, poly/(three)some, reverse harem, dubcon, blood + knife play, light bdsm, breath play, mild violence, hunter/prey + capture/captive dynamics, alternate universes, canon divergence, certain canonical pairings, praise & degradation kink, breeding kink

⚜ 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 ─

celebrity/real people fics, underage scenarios, foot fetish, watersports, spitting, age play, animal play, daddy/mommy/little play, domestic violence, necrophilia, incest, and more if they arise

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 ....

🎞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

steve harrington, eddie munson, jonathan byers, henry creel, jim hopper

🎞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧/𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

daemon targaryen, aemond targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, harwin strong, erryk/arryk cargyll, jon snow, robb stark, jaime lannister, brienne of tarth, daenerys targaryen, sandor clegane, tormund giantsbane, missandei, grey worm, tyrion lannister, theon greyjoy, samwell tarley, gendry, bronn, oberyn martell, podrick payne, margaery tyrell

🎞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐧

dream the endless, death the endless, desire the endless, johanna constantine, lucifer morningstar, hob gadling, the corinthian

🎞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥

thor odinson, loki laufeyson, valkyrie, wade wilson

🎞 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

cordelia goode, xavier plympton, kyle spencer, moira o’hara, ramona royale, the countess, jimmy darling, michael langdon, misty day, tristan duffy

🎞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

arthur morgan, john marston, charles smith, bonnie macfarlane, kieran duffy, sadie adler, dutch van der linde, javier escuella, jackie estacado, booker dewitt, curie (fallout 4), cait (fallout 4), preston garvey (fallout 4), danse (fallout 4), piper wright, arthur maxson, nick valentine, robert joseph maccready

🎞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

viktor hargreeves, klaus hargreeves, diego hargreeves, theodora crain, luke crain, steven crain, rick grimes, daryl dixon, glenn rhee, gannicus (spartacus), eric northman, richie gecko, seth gecko

🎞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬

sam guthrie, rick o’connell, ardeth bay

⚜ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 ─

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 to deny any request without explanation if it falls outside what i am comfortable with--i do not accept requests from minors, and request that anyone under the age of 18 please not interact with my content as it is intended for a mature audience and is nsfw

#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 :#faq #requests

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silkfyre · 11 months

Text

W.I.D

The following content does not limit the type of requests I accept. If there is a topic or character that is not listed, but you wish to have included feel free to ask! If I’m ever uncomfortable with something I will simply deny the request.

HIGHLIGHTED names are my personal favorite characters.

WRITING

Fluff

Smut

Angst

Yandere

Violence

Dub-Con

Polyamory

OTHER

Fancasts

Writing Tips

Script Creation

Character Building

CHARACTERS

HORROR

The Boy

Brahms Heelshire

The Quarry

Abigail Blyg

Emma Mountebank

Jacob Custos

Laura Kearney

Max Brinley

Ryan Erzahler

Travis Hackett

The Lost Boys

David

Dwayne

Marko

Michael

Paul

House of Wax

Bo Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Thomas Hewitt (Leatherface)

Halloween

Michael Myers

Scream

Billy Loomis

Randy Meeks

Stu Macher

American Horror Story

James Patrick March

Jimmy Darling

Yellowjackets

Lottie Matthews

Misty Quigley

Natalie Scatorccio

Shauna Sadecki

Taissa Turner

Van Palmer

SCI-FI

The Boys

A-Train

Billy Butcher

Black Noir

Frenchie

Homelander

Hughie Campbell

Kimiko Miyashiro

Mother's Milk

Queen Maeve

Soldier Boy

Starlight

Detroit: Become Human

Chloe

Connor

Gavin Reed

Hank Anderson

Josh

Kara

Luther

Markus

North

Ralph

Rk600 (Sixty)

Rk900 (Nines)

Simon

Fallout

Fallout 4

Deacon

John Hancock

Nick Valentine

Paladin Danse

Piper Shaw

Preston Garvey

Robert MacCready

Fallout (series)

Aspirant Dane

Chet

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul)

Knight Maximus

Lucy MacLean

Norm MacLean

Alien vs Predator

coming soon!

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon

Eugene Porter

James Cameron’s Avatar

Eetu

Lyle Wainfleet

Mansk

Miles "Spider" Socorro

Miles Quaritch

Nor

So’lek

Teylan

Tsu’tey te Rongloa Ateyitan

SUPERNATURAL

TVD Verse

Bonnie Bennett

Caroline Forbes

Damon Salvatore

Elena Gilbert

Elijah Mikaelson

Finn Mikaelson

Jeremy Gilbert

Katherine Pierce

Kol Mikaelson

Niklaus Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Stefan Salvatore

FANTASY

Baldur’s Gate 3

Astarion Ancunín

Dammon

Gale Dekarios

Halsin

Karlach Cliffgate

Lae’zel

Raphael

Rolan

Shadowheart

Wyll Ravengard

Zevlor

REALISM

Red Dead Redemption II

Albert Mason

Arthur Morgan

Charles Smith

Dutch Van Der Linde

Flaco Hernández

Javier Escuella

John Marston

Kieran Duffy

Sadie Adler

Call of Duty

John Price

John “Soap” MacTavish

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

König

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Grand Theft Auto

Franklin Clinton

Michael De Santa

Trevor Philips

Outer Banks

Pope Heyward

Rafe Cameron

Sarah Cameron

Topper Thornton

W.I.D.D

Notes :: There may be some things on these lists that are debatable. If they are something I’m willing to write under certain circumstances then it will be ITALICEZED.

WRITING

Racism

Ableism

Ageplay

Underage

Homophobia

Transphobia

Character x Character (w/o reader)

CHARACTERS

Bubba Sawyer

Freddy Krueger

Pennywise

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mxstly-melancholy · 2 years

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Miscellaneous Masterlist

Monster high:

1 jackson boyfriend headcannons

2 holt hyde boyfriend headcannons

3 kieran valentine boyfriend headcannons

4 clawd wolf boyfriend headcannons

5 robecca steam girlfriend headcannons

Call of Duty:

1 simon ghost riley x reader fluff

2 simon ghost Riley x reader situationship

Fallout:

1 cooper/the ghoul x gn reader fluff/comfort

#masterlist

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

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A Soft Heart, A Sweet Soul

A/N: Honestly couldn’t tell you where this came from. It started off as an idea of Kieran coming to Arthur and reader for advice on how to talk to Mary-Beth because I absolutely adore Kieran and Mary-Beth but then it ended up turning into some camp shenanigans and well.... this happened??? This takes place at Horseshoe Overlook.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and camp shenanigans

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kieran comes to you and Arthur for dating advice.

**gif isnt mine**

“What’re ya workin’ on?”

You tore your eyes away from the article of clothing in your hands to watch Arthur. He pulled up a chair just across from you and took out a cigarette.

“Just patching up some clothes. A fella I know likes to go around gettin’ into bar fights and scraps with a whole bunch of wild animals. He’s too hard on his clothes.”

He grunted as he lit the cigarette and leaned back in his seat.

“I ain’t that hard on clothes.”

“I have to patch somethin’ of yours every other day.” You teased, a grin coming to your lips.

He swatted a hand playfully at you, shaking his head.

“I don’t believe it.”

“What’s this from, Arthur?” You held the shirt you were currently working on up to show him the hole in the front of the shirt.

“That one wasn’t even my fault.” Arthur paused for a moment to look around camp, searching for someone. His eyes landed on Charles, who was brushing down Taima at the hitching posts. “That man over there started a fight in Valentine! Didn’t ya, Charles?”

“Charles would do no such thing.” You looked over at Charles, who wore a faint grin but didn’t look in your direction. “You didn’t start that fight, did you?”

“I didn’t start it, but I did finish it.”

“See, Arthur? He’s too nice.”

“Nice my ass.” Arthur muttered with the cigarette between his lips. “Anyways, the fella I was fightin’ tried to stab me but he wasn’t too good with a knife. Only caught the shirt.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let that one pass since you did a terrible job at blaming Charles for causing it.” You nodded softly, biting your bottom lip to try to hide a grin.

“Them pants that you have over your lap have a busted out knee.”

“Yeah, I noticed when I was tryin’ to wash them. What did you do?”

“I, uh, I tripped.” Arthur tried to cough to hide what he was saying but just as he spoke Javier was passing by behind him.

“You what?”

“Shut up, Javier. This don’t involve you.” Arthur waved Javier off but Javier wasn’t giving up so easily.

“No, no, it does now.” He put one hand on the back of Arthur’s chair. “What happened, Arthur?”

Arthur grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I tripped goin’ down a hill when I was out.” He shook his head, holding the cigarette between his index and middle finger. “The hills over there in the Grizzlies East are steep. Hosea had me out huntin’ and didn’t warn me that it was so steep. And the rocks were loose under my boots and it all happened so fast-,”

“Poor baby.” You frowned, trying your best to not laugh. Javier didn’t shy away from laughing at him though as he moved away from you, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. The other few people around you, including Charles, Karen, and Hosea, also laughed.

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur took a drag from the cigarette. “Laugh at me and my clumsiness.”

You reached over to pat his knee

A comfortable silence seemed to fall over camp. It was rare and peaceful. It was one of those evenings where little was happening. The sun was going down behind the trees and many of the lamps around camp were starting to be turned on.

Arthur was home before dark for once, which you were thankful for. You rarely got to spend time with him before it was time for bed. It was nice to be able to sit with him, even if you had little chores to do while you sat there.

“Thank you for doin’ that for me, pumpkin.” Arthur spoke, keeping his voice low so only you could hear him. He leaned forward in his chair, flicking his cigarette down onto the ground and then stepping on to it. Then he moved his chair a little closer to you so that if he wanted to, he could lean forward and kiss you.

“You’re very welcome, darlin’. You know it’s my pleasure.” You flashed him a smile. “I always love hearin’ all these stories about how you tear up your clothes on your adventures. It’s very amusing knowin’ you’re just like a giant clumsy toddler.”

“Are you gonna give me a hard time all night?” He raised a brow at you, a teasing glint flashing in his brilliant blue eyes.

“Oh, you know that’s my favorite thing to do.” You looked down at the shirt to watch where you were pushing the needle through. “If I didn’t give you a hard time, who else would?”

“There’s plenty of people to give me a hard time ‘round here.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Arthur’s attention. He turned his head to see Kieran making his way towards you two. Arthur let out a small sigh and leaned back in his chair, a little irritated that the peaceful moment between you and him had been interrupted.

“M’sorry to-to bother you, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Y/L/N. I-I just wanna talk to you for-for a minute, Arthur.” Kieran stopped a few feet away from your chairs.

“Me?” Arthur raised his brows, eyes widening slightly. “Why? You got somethin’ planned, O’Driscoll?”

“Arthur!” You scolded him, reaching over and smacking his arm.

“Ow!”

“I-I’m sorry to bother y’all.” Kieran turned to walk away, shaking his head.

“Kieran, don’t let Arthur’s bad manners scare you away.” You glared at Arthur before bringing your attention to Kieran. “Is it something I could help you with?”

Arthur ran a hand over his face, knowing very well you’d get after him later for his behavior.

Kieran didn’t say anything at first. He nervously messed with his hands and looked off to the side.

You followed his gaze, eyes landing on Mary-Beth.

“I-I just…. M’not too sure how to, uh, to talk to her, is all.” He spoke quietly. He looked back to you. “I thought maybe since y’all seem like such a nice couple that you might have some good advice you could give. I just don’t-don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, Kieran.” You smiled, then gestured to the empty chair sitting across the table from you. “Have a seat with us.”

Arthur opened his mouthed to object but decided at the last minute to not say anything about Kieran joining you both at the table.

“Just ‘cause we seem like a nice couple, don’t mean we are.” Arthur shook his head, motioning to you with his thumb. “She’s meaner than hell.”

“I’m the one sewing the holes you leave behind in your clothes, Mr. Morgan.” You reminded him, a little smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Once they’re patched up, I’ll sell your clothes in Valentine. Make a decent penny, and buy myself something nice.”

“That’s a damn good idea.” Arthur chuckled, rubbing his scruffy jaw.

“Now shut up and listen so we can help the kid out.” You put the clothes in your lap on to the table so you could give Kieran your full attention. “Have you tried talking to her at all yet, Kieran?”

Just as Kieran was about to answer, Sean came over to the table.

“Why do you lot look so dead? Swear there’s more life in a cemetery.”

Your eyes met Arthur’s and he let out a sigh, knowing he’d have to be the one to make the sacrifice and draw Sean away.

“Hey, Sean?” He stood to his feet. “Come with me a second, buddy.”

“Sure thing, Arthur!”

“Have you tried talking to her, Kieran?” You repeated your question.

“Yeah, a little.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it seems…. It-It just don’t feel like it’s goin’ nowhere. It feels like I-Ikeep messin’ up. I just don’t know what to say and-and it’s hard talkin’ to pretty girls. I-I get all nervous and stumble all over my words.”

“Just remember that she’s a person too. It’s okay to be nervous and to mess up with your words. She’s a really sweet girl, Kieran. She won’t think anything of it as long as you’re nice.”

“You think so?”

You nodded your head.

“You should’ve seen Arthur when he and I first started talking.” Your eyes found Arthur. He’d taken Sean across camp and distracted him with something. “He’s not the big brute he likes to make everyone think he is. He’s a sweet man with a big heart. The first time he ever took me out somewhere, he spilt whiskey all over me.”

“Did he really?” Kieran chuckled. “And-And you still talked to him after that?”

“Of course I did. It was an accident. He’s never done anything to hurt me.” You brought your attention back to Kieran. “You’re a good kid, Kieran. All of us here can see that. I’m positive Mary-Beth can see it too.”

“I hope so.” Kieran turned his head to look in her direction. “She’s really nice, Y/N.”

“She is a sweet girl.” You agreed.

“Thank you for talkin’ with me, Y/N.”

“Anytime, Kieran.” You gave him a smile and watched him leave.

You went back to working on Arthur’s clothes. A little while later, Arthur returned to his seat.

“That kid needs an off button.” He muttered, glancing over to Sean. “How did talkin’ with Kieran go?”

“Good.” You looked up at Arthur through your lashes. “I told him about how you spilt whiskey on me that time you took me to that dusty old saloon in Montana.”

Arthur groaned.

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because it made him feel better about being so nervous around Mary-Beth.”

Arthur fell silent for a few moments, his eyes finding Kieran and Mary-Beth. The two were sitting near each other chatting quietly. You looked over your shoulder to see what he was looking at.

“You think they’d be good together? You don’t think he’d….?”

“You’ve got to stop calling him an O’Driscoll, Arthur.” You looked at Arthur then back down to his clothes. “He’s one of us. He saved your life, you know.”

“I know.” Arthur let out a heavy breath. “Just…. Just don’t like it.”

“He’s not like them.” You finished the last stitch on the shirt and tied it off. “You can see it in his eyes, and in the way he interacts with everyone around here. He’s sweet. He just didn’t have the right start at life. Didn’t have the right people around him.”

“Sounds like you’re gettin’ soft on him.”

You rolled your eyes and threw the shirt at Arthur, hitting him in the face with it.

“You can be such a horse’s ass sometimes, Arthur Morgan.” You stood up and started to move away from the table but Arthur’s hand caught your wrist.

“I’m just teasin’ you, Y/N.” He put the shirt on the table and then tugged you over to stand between his knees. “Just don’t understand why you’re so keen on helpin’ him. You’re never this nice.”

“I am a very nice person.” You looked down at him, bringing your hands up to cup either side of his face. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbones.

On his right cheek, there was a faint white line that cut just an inch or so beneath his eye. You focused on that for a few moments.

“I know a fella that a lot of people think is hard and mean.” You whispered. “Many people wouldn’t think that he likes it when I brush my fingers through his hair at night. Or that when he can’t sleep, he likes to put his head in my lap and listen to me read.”

You were thankful that the sun had finally gone down all the way and that most of the gang was gathered around two of the fires on the other side of camp. They wouldn’t be able to interrupt or witness your moment with Arthur, who very rarely liked any sort of public displays of affection. The ones who did witness it were Mrs. Grimshaw, who had been doing her mother hen rounds to check and make sure everything was in line, and John, who was keeping patrol just outside of camp. Grimshaw pretended to not see anything as she kept walking, humming to herself with a cigarette between her fingers. John smiled a little. It made him happy that someone made Arthur so soft.

“Who is this fella?” Arthur asked, his voice low and a little raspy. His eyes shut for a moment as you leaned forward to kiss his brow. He settled his hands around your hips, just holding you where you stood between his legs. “Might have to fight him.”

“Silly man.” You giggled softly, running your fingers back through his hair. “I’m a good judge of character, Arthur. Have a little faith in me.”

You started to step away from him. As your touch left him, his hand found yours and he stood up so he could pull you into his arms.

“I have faith in you. It’s the O’Driscoll I don’t trust.”

“I’m gonna start keeping count of every time you call him that and there’s gonna be consequences.” You squeezed Arthur’s fingers.

“What kinda consequences?” A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Ones you won’t like.” You pulled your hand from his and looked around camp.

Mary-Beth was sitting on her bedroll reading by a lamp. Kieran was brushing down his horse just outside of camp.

“I’m not saying you have to be friends with him, Arthur.” You turned your attention to him as he stood from his chair. “Just stop callin’ him an O’Driscoll.”

He let out a rather exaggerated sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“If it makes you happy-,”

“It would make me very happy.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at you. You innocently smiled.

“You drive me crazy, woman.” He put his arm around you and started to guide you towards your shared tent.

“You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Of course not.” He kissed your cheek. “I like the crazy.”

“Did Charles really start that fight in Valentine?”

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl

If you’d like to be on my taglist, please go here! If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #arthur morgan fluff #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 fic #red dead redemption fic #red dead redemption 2 fic #queenxxxsupreme #oneshot #fluff

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