#colm o'driscoll x male reader

[allzelemonz]

Helping and Teaching: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 7, Virginity Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB, Mention of chest hair Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Colm O’Driscoll has a virginity kink big time, Reader is an O’Driscoll, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, proposition, kissing, grinding, clothed dominant/naked submissive, anal fingering, anal sex, top Colm/bottom Reader, gentle Colm for once Summary: While out on a job with the other O’Driscoll boys, you let slip that you’re a virgin. When this news gets back to Colm, his interest is piqued.

When Tommy interrupts the festivities around the fire everyone could tell it’s something serious. Billy stops playing his fiddle, Declan pauses his bottle halfway to his mouth, everyone looks at one of Colm’s most trusted with bated breath. This last job was huge, Tommy wouldn’t be disrupting the celebration unless…

“Colm wants ya.” He says gruffly, his eyes boring into yours.

“Me?” You ask, your brows furrowed.

Tommy nods. “Don’t keep ‘em waitin’!”

You stand quickly, everyone’s eyes on you as you walk towards the only cabin still standing in the little abandoned settlement the O’Driscolls have claimed. Billy starts with the fiddle again after a while, your nervous steps only carrying you so far so fast. You didn’t think Colm even knew your name.

The cabin door is ajar, but you knock anyway, only stepping partly inside. It’s much warmer here, the fire roaring well in the fireplace compared to the sad one outside. Colm sits in a chair by a small table, leaning back and relaxed. He looks up at you and flicks his eyes to the other chair, a wordless command. You don’t hesitate to follow, shutting the door behind you and sitting just a foot away from him.

He leans forward, sighing lightly. “Quite a job you boys pulled.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “Call me Colm, sugar.”

Your heart picks up in your chest. Being alone with your ruthless boss is enough to make you nervous, him being oddly friendly makes you feel a little sick to your stomach from the pins shooting around in there.

“I heard you boys had a little chat while you was gettin’ my money.”

Your mind travels back. It wasn’t anything eventful, just something to fill the silence while you looted the train car.

“Tommy said ya said somethin’ interestin’.”

Instantly you worry that Tommy thinks you said something disloyal. You didn’t, you know you didn’t. The whole conversation was silly, just the boys talking about past… oh. The only somewhat contribution you’d had to the conversation, admitting that you’ve never slept with anyone. All the other boys had been going on about the people they’d slept with, bragging about sizes and body counts, and when the conversation turned to you the truth just came out.

“I-I suppose so, sir--Colm.”

He smiles. “Ain’t nothing wrong with bein’ a virgin, sugar.”

Your skin heats at the word. It shouldn’t matter, but after hearing all the other boys brag it makes you a little embarrassed that you haven’t done anything yet. Colm’s hand touching your knee shakes you from your thoughts. It’s gentle, surprisingly so, and it makes a different kind of heat course through you.

“Of course, if ya wanna change that…” Colm smiles wide and his eyes drag over your body. “I’d be happy ta help ya.”

You feel a surge of want pass through you. Colm is an attractive man and he’s handing an opportunity to you on a platter, but the words don’t quite come. “I…”

Colm’s hand travels up your leg a bit, squeezing your thigh. “I like helping folks, sugar. I’ll be gentle with ya.”

His eyes feel like fire and you can only just make yourself nod under the burning gaze. He smiles wide and leans closer, sitting on the edge of his chair to kiss you. Slowly, his fingers curl into your shirt and he tugs you back as he relaxes in his chair again. He grabs your thigh when you’re close and pulls you into his lap, keeping his lips fixed on yours as his other hand holds the back of your neck. You can feel the stiffness rubbing against you and he urges your hips to move. When you oblige, a gasp escapes you at the new sensation.

“That’s it, good boy.” Colm murmurs. “It feel good?”

You nod, hiding your face in his shoulder as you continue.

“Ya want me ta lay ya down er ya wanna do it yerself?”

It’s a bit surprising, Colm giving you a choice, but you manage an answer with a bit of whine in your voice. “You…You do it.”

Colm presses a kiss to your jaw, his hand squeezing your ass. “I’ll take care a’ ya, sugar.”

He urges you to stand, his fingers lacing into your gunbelt to pull you along to the bed. Your heart races when he turns and his gaze falls to remove the belt. You watch as he does it, following his movements with burning skin as he undresses you himself. He’s careful, gentle like he said he’d be. That fact, along with the graze of his fingers, make you shiver. Colm O’Driscoll being soft, for you.

“Lie down on yer back fer me, darlin’.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his hand pushes you forward.

You move with shallow breaths, positioning yourself on his bed and trying to ignore the embarrassing state of your dick bouncing slightly in the open as you settle.

Colm’s eyes rake over you, making you feel unbelievably small and helpless. “Oh.” He groans. “You are damn good lookin’, boy. Nice and untouched, all fer me.”

A noise escapes you of its own volition and you swallow your nerves as you try to smile for him. He opens the drawer of his nightstand, digging out a tin. You watch carefully as he carefully parts your legs, not resisting his manipulation. His focus is between your legs and you watch closely as he scoops the substance from the tin and spreads it over his fingers.

“Might be a little cold, sugar.” He mutters. “Just lemme make ya feel good, be patient.”

You nod slightly, too focused on the slippery look of his fingers to manage much else. He presses on your thigh, spreading you wide before he trails his slick fingers across your taint until he circles at your rim. Your breath catches and he glances up, giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You can feel just the tip of his finger push beyond and he circles again, pressing slow and inching another just behind it. You let the noises fall as they may, pressing your head back into Colm’s pillows.

“That’s it, boy.” He chuckles. “I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel.”

Your brain fogs with slight pain as his fingers intrude where nothing has been, stretching you in a way you’ve never felt. It feels splitting, like it’s not supposed to expand like that, but you try to breathe. Colm told you to be patient. His fingers begin thrusting, moving slowly in and out and you start to feel the shivering pleasure. You press into him, trying to get more of that feeling, but Colm digs his nails into your thigh enough to get your attention.

“Lemme work, darlin’.” Colm warns. “Don’t move here er ya might hurt yerself.”

“S-Sorry, Colm…”

“It’s alright, sugar.” He smiles. “It feel good?”

“Yeah… please-”

“I know, I know. Don’t wanna hurt ya during yer first round, sweetheart.” He rubs softly into the skin that he hurt with his nails. “Just wait. I know what’s best fer ya.”

You nod and look back down to try and see his fingers but he brushes a spot that makes you gasp and throw your head back again. You back arches on instinct and you feel pins throughout your skin for a second.

“That’s it, just let it happen.” He mutters.

He rubs into that spot, his other finger scissoring to work you open. You feel a build, but he stops far too soon and you whine at the loss. As he pulls out, he makes sure to stretch you all the way to the rim. His eyes trail over you, from your spread legs to your  blissed eyes, as he wipes his fingers off on his pants.

“It’s gonna hurt at first, darlin’.” He says, working his gunbelt off and fishing himself out. “Just relax an’ it’ll feel real good, alright?”

You nod, eyes fixed on his dick as it’s exposed. It’s long, flushed dark with arousal, and matched with a set of heavy balls and dark hair. Your own dick twitches at the sight, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Ready, sugar?”

You look up at Colm’s face. He has always been intimidating, a powerful outlaw that could shoot any man before he blinks, but now he’s daunting. The first man to fuck you, to bed you at all, and the look in his eyes makes you feel like you’re staring down a wolf.

All you can do is nod, a light hum coming out.

Colm grins, a hand trailing down your chest until it brushes against your dick and settles on your hip, the other guiding himself to your hole. He presses against you, not pushing inside yet, as he gauges your face. Slowly, with a firm hand on your hip, he pushes past the rim and you feel an aching stretch. You take heavy breaths, staring at the ceiling. Colm bottoms out and pauses, leaning over you to press kisses along your chest and up your neck as you adjust.

He’s breathless as he speaks. “Yer doin’ good, sugar. Ya feel damn good too.”

The feeling of being stretched open is an odd one, but being full is so good. You almost don’t want him to move, not wanting this feeling to ever leave you, but you know that’s not how it usually works. With great difficulty, you attempt to steady your breathing and relax. Colm’s little kisses make your heart flutter, but they are comforting enough to make you settle.

“I’m… I’m ready, Colm.”

Colm pauses his kiss, hovering his lips above your pec. “Ya sure, sweetheart?”

You hum, nodding to confirm as he looks up at you.

“I’ll be slow ta start.” Colm says, kissing your jaw. “Then I’ll fuck ya nice n’ deep, show ya what ya been missin’.”

Before you can do anything, Colm presses his lips to yours and pulls his hips back at the same time. His lips are gentle on yours, heavy and intentional. His hips slide himself back slowly, almost too slow and you desperately want him buried back in deep, but you let him work. With a hand on your hip and another propping himself above you, he makes his pace slow. He slides in and out, swallowing your noises with his kiss. After a few thrusts, his hand travels down to your thigh, lifting it and having you hook your leg around him.

“Ya want it faster, boy?” Colm murmurs against your lips. “What yer boss ta fuck ya fer real for the first time?”

After having your lips covered for so long, you don’t hesitate. “Yes…”

Colm grins, giving you a soft peck as he picks up his pace. “Such a good boy fer me.” He kisses again. “I shoulda fucked ya the second ya joined us, knew you was somethin’ all special an’ innocent.”

His thrusts begin to knock the air out of you, driving deep and fast. You can’t tell if there’s pain anymore at this point, too consumed with Colm’s words and the inching of his fingers as they run along your leg towards your aching dick.

“I the first man ta touch yer dick, boy?” Colm asks, wrapping his fingers gingerly around you and squeezing lightly. “Am I?”

You nod under his gaze and he grins, pressing his lips to yours again. His thumb spreads your precum and he begins to work you in time with his fucking. The sensations are overwhelming, things you’ve never felt before, and your noises are muffled by his lips as you release over his hand and paint his shirt and your bare stomach with cum.

Colm chuckles, smirking as he rests your foreheads together. “Can ya hold out till I’m done, sugar?”

You nod, knowing that with a man like Colm you likely don’t have another option. Colm’s hand leaves your dick and returns to your thigh, pulling you up slightly to fuck you deeper. It feels like too much, everything is so sensitive and you can’t think with your head swimming, but then that heat builds again. Colm’s new angle brushes that nice spot inside you when he thrusts and you start to get blurry vision after a few more hits. Colm’s hips jolt and he fucks into you with a few short thrusts, each one hitting that spot, and he settles himself as deep as he can get with he release.

As he gazes down at you, his dick still pulsing out spurts, he rakes his hand over your sweaty skin until it wraps around your dick. “Didn’t mean ta get ya goin’ again, darlin’.” He mutters, lazily stroking you.

It’s enough, after all of Colm’s fucking against that spot and the knowledge that he’s filled you up and the gentle feelings he’s displayed, you release again.

“That’s it…” Colm muses. “Ya look so damn good when yer cummin’ fer me, sweetheart.”

He connects your lips again, his soft dick still deep inside you, his hand giving you a few final squeezes. Distracting you with the kiss, he helps you lower your leg back to the bed and very slowly pulls out. He trails the kisses off as he settles beside you, laying on his side as his eyes look over your spent body. His hand trails over your chest, idly running his fingers through your chest hair as you heave for breath.

“Enjoy yerself, boy?”

You know speaking is impossible at this point, so you nod as he turns your head to look over at him.

“Plenty more things ta show ya.” Colm drawls, his hand lightly squeezing at your pec. “Still plenty a’ ways yer a virgin, sugar, but I’ll show ya”

You know the look on your face must be stupid because Colm smirks at it, moving his eyes down to watch his hand run over your stomach. You never thought it’d be your boss, but here he is, admiring his work.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #fictober

[xo-urban]

Can I request Arthur Morgan with male reader, who is a part of the O'Driscoll gang and secretly helps the Van Der Linde?

Long story short, male reader gives Arthur information on the O'Driscoll's plans and so on, the rest of Arthur's gang know reader and how much he's risking for them by meeting up with Arthur to warn him and stuff. Reader approached them himself some time ago, as he saw just how wrong the stuff his gang did was, earned their trust and proved to be a good man. They asked him several times to dirch the O'Driscolls and join them instead, as he was experiencing some truly vile, down right abusive, treatment from his father, Colm O'Driscoll, but he couldn't, as he was scared it would bring harm to Arthur and his family (the gang).

One night, when the Van Der Linde were supposed to meet him, he didn't show up. Arthur went to their usuall spot, next to a river, where he found a note from Colm, saying to meet him in a few days there, alone, with no backup. If he didn't show up or obligated by the terms, he would kill reader.

The rest is completely up to you, but please make it have a good ending! My heart can't take anymore angst stories with a bad ending TvT

To Be Astray

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Male Reader

Summary: A family gone mad, you’ve found yourself leaving for a better life but nothing every comes that easy in an outlaw’s life.

Warnings: Typical in-game violence, neglect, abuse, torture (a bit mild in a way), homophobia (very little)

Word Count: 1734

A/N: I absolutely enjoyed writing this! Hopefully it doesn’t seem like word vomit on here and you actually enjoy reading it as much as I did writing! 🤍🤍

You’ve always stuck with your gut, whether it be running and fighting, drinking or gambling, or straying away from whom you once called family.

You’ve been running along with the O’Driscoll gang for quite a long time. You were born into the gang’s system, watch people come and go, innocent lives get taken by your hands.

“Steady boy!”

You were interrupted from your thoughts as your father, the infamous Colm O’Driscoll himself, tried to calm his horse down. It must’ve heard something and got spooked, oh that poor thing.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a soft snort, continuing down a path with your father.

Colm talked and talked, new ‘promised’ futures, recruiting new members. Hell you have grown sick of him, you’d only gather information rather than follow them. You’d seen how cruel your father really is. Every time you fucked up a task, he’d beat you like a racing horse whose feet have been broken without a single person to care for it.

That’s till one night, at the mining camp in the harsh cold mountains. You were found by another gang, the Van Der Linde gang no less. You’ve always heard of the stories amongst fellow members, the rivalry between the two and the once unity they had as allies.

You were held to your will, treated like a prisoner until you went on missions with them to seek out your own gang, killing off your numbers and helping the enemy.

They warmed up to you no doubt, despite the history and the name you wore, you became an important essential to their gang. At first they offered you a place in their camp, a whole tent with food and water provided, but you knew you’d impose a great danger by staying.

So you reluctantly persuade them to let you go and promise to meet back every few days at a creek in the forest near their camp. You'd meet up with a member of the Van Der Linde gang to deposit a shit load of information about your father’s next moves, check up on one another before you returned back ‘home’.

“Alright, you can run off now. You know what you need to do” Your father spoke, earning a scoff from you as you turned the other way, hurrying off to the spot you were supposed to meet up at.

. . .

You tread through the vegetation, the oil lamp in your hand brightened the way. You were tired, but the information you promised was even better this time around after asking a bunch of loose-mouthed rookies.

You couldn’t help but smile, seeing your favorite cowboy come into view, his leaned fit body, the soft beard, those gentle eyes with his rugged face. You watched his lips curve and form into a smile, drawing you in.

“So glad to see you again hun.. been too long” Arthur sighed, wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he kissed your face, his beard ticking you as he swayed your bodies side by side.

You and Arthur had gotten together after so long, all those long talks, risky touches, compliments had led you to where you are now.

“Missed you too darlin’, can’t help but stray away huh?” You sighed, laying your head against him as you felt his lips touch your head ever so carefully.

“That’s not my intent.. been running around, stealing and robbing. Makes me wonder how a bad man like me ends up with a man so perfect and sweet.” Arthur spoke quietly, his hand, rough and calloused yet so soft and gentle, ran through your hair.

You savour the moment as the two of you sway side to side in each other’s arms in the dark blue cover the night brings. You’d almost forget you were criminals with how soft the moment was, with the soft rustling of leaves, the cold breeze that grazed your back as you were held in the warm arms your boyfriend provided.

Though it lasted a few good minutes, you had to get down to business. You explained the next game plans of your father’s operations and which big moves he was considering to make. Arthur listened intently, watching you and nodding when you said something important to let you know he was still listening to you.

Soon after, it was time to head back, the moon shining brightly on it’s highest peak.

“I’ll see you in the following days Arthur..” You smiled, jumping onto your horse, walking your mare over to lean down and kiss Arthur sweetly on his lips, his hand caressing your cheek before you pulled away, turning to leave with the most lovestruck smile on your face.

To hell you went as frantic steps rushed off.

But you had assumed they were Arthur’s.

. . .

You had rode back to camp, a sour scowl on your face, glancing at the weird glances you had gotten. Did something happen when you were gone? You were confused till you were greeted by the angry look on your old man’s face.

“You were WORKING with the Van Der Linde gang behind my back? My own SON. My own son is a fucking traitor to this family!” Colm had shouted at you, stomping over angrily before grabbing the collar of your shit, tugging harshly.

“I can’t even fucking believe it. I should’ve left you with the wolves, but god dammit! You’ve failed me. You’re not my son. You were never a true O’Driscoll. The darnest disappointment I’ve ever seen. Sleeping with fucking men too!? You're gonna damn well pay with your blood, splattered on the ground in front of that boy..”

You watched as your father raised his hand, falling rapidly before you even had time to brace for it. The hard slap collided with your cheek before you were thrown at the dirt, your father’s shoe kicking dirt in your face and spitting at you, ordering the men watching to tie you up.

“You fucking bastard! I’ll have your head on a pole waving over the fucking country to see!”

You screamed as you felt the harsh burn of ropes press against your skin, crying out in pain before the butt of a rifle was smashed against your temple, knocking you out cold.

. . .

Arthur waited for you at your usual spot, eager to meet you, but it had been hours and he was growing restless. He walked a bit further up the river in hopes to find you, but a white note hung by a knife that was posted into a dark tree caught his eye.

He looked around before he approached, yanking the note off the tree as his eyes widened.

“Shit!” Arthur cursed aloud, whistling for his horse, quickly mounting it before snapping the reins, hastefully sprinting out there to get some extra guns brought along before he formally meets up with Colm O’Driscoll himself.

. . .

You could’ve sworn you were passed out for more than a day. Your father starved you and treated you as if you were a feral prisoner.

You’d been waiting for hours and you were starting to doubt that you’d make it out of this situation alive. You worried for Arthur to come quicker with each passing click of the clock.

When you were about to shut your eyes in defeat, the loud trampling of what you assumed, two or three horses approaching. Your eyes looked up, hoping. And there he was.

Arthur arrived with an angry face of hatred, followed by Sadie and Charles. You were sat down on your knees, as the small group of Van Der Linde members dismounted their horses, Sadie and Charles raising their guns at the O’Driscolls that had done the same. The tension was high and this was no doubt gonna end up in a blood bath.

Arthur didn’t even let the man speak once he opened his mouth, his hand grabbing the revolver out of its holster and emptied all of its bullets out at the O’Driscolls.

Your father ran back, turning to aim his gun at you before you watched Charles harshly shove him to the ground. That didn’t stop the shot from firing right into your thigh. You yelled in pain as the bounds on your arms were cut free, immediately helped up by a pair of strong hands.

“Hang on Darling, we’re getting you out of here!”

Arthur helped you up onto his horse, yanking on the reins as he held you to his chest as you hissed in pain.

“I know love, I know, we’ll get that fixed when we get back I swear, stay strong, I know you can”

You nodded, doing your best as you turn back to find Charles and Sadie riding behind you two, not too far behind.

Arthur held you protectively the whole way, not even taking his hand off you for a moment as he took you to Hosea’s tent, laying you gently down on the cot, his eyes softening at your state, holding your hand tightly as he exchanged little words with Hosea who immediately got to work.

“You’re safe. I ain’t gonna let any O’Driscoll ever hurt you again. I swear on my life”

Arthur kissed your knuckles softly, holding it close to his face.

“Rest easy love, you have no idea how miserable you look.”

“You callin’ me ugly?”

You snorted weakly, smiling as you felt your eyes become heavy.

“No.. never love..”

. . .

You’ve awoken to loud snoring right beside you, only smiling once you turned your head to find your boyfriend in a nice change of clothes, sleeping in a sitting position with his head on the cot.

You awed softly, running your hand through his hair gently, sitting up with the help of your good leg, meeting Arthur’s worried eyes.

You were about to speak before he cupped your face and kissed you deeply, letting you melt into him before he pulled away with little crystallizing tears in his eyes.

“You’re one goddamn miracle..”

Arthur sighed happily, resting his head against yours as he sat himself down on the bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close.

“And you’re my incurable romantic..”

You chuckled, letting your lips connect one more time, finally, together again without a worry about having to go back there.

You’ve learned to love being astray, finding the most perfect man to love in the end.

#fanfic #fanfiction #male reader #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #urban does not know wtf he’s doing #red dead redemption x reader

[arigatouiris]

revenge is a fool’s game // arthur morgan — [02]

pairing: arthur morgan x female!reader

word count: 2023

warnings: strong violence, emotional distress, mentions of torture, explicit sexual references, a whole lotta angst, cowboy stuff;

notes: I might actually not do a taglist, since not many got back to me; but let’s see? I’ve tagged https://julliiaaq.tumblr.com for asking~

masterlist in bio~

Also, this is actually a story on my AO3, with an OC. I’ve remodelled it to fit as a reader insert here, and the story might change towards the end so... just wanted to put it out there!

Chapter Two: Vengeance

○

Arthur had no idea why Riley was brought to camp. Their camp was small, and he would have actually preferred it that way. 

He saw to it that each person had a role to play—Dutch and Hosea were the backbones, and their backbones were Annabelle and Bessie (who in all honesty, Arthur knew, would want Riley to be a part of the gang because they were nice women and Riley looked malnourished, to say the least). 

There was Susan Grimshaw, who was one of the safekeepers of the entire camp, she made sure everything stayed in place—however, Arthur felt a tad bit bad for her when he thought of her, considering how she was sweet on Dutch but Dutch had Annabelle now.

There was a butcher too, from the Navy, whose name Arthur kept forgetting. And even if his food was terrible, Arthur knew he had a role to play as well. And then at last, there was the kid, John Marston. Arthur wouldn’t admit it, but he had a soft spot for the kid. He was feisty, something Morgan appreciated in the boy, but even John looked more aggressive and intimidating than Riley did, and that was saying something. John was just fifteen years old, barely a man.

But, Riley? What role can this gawky little kid play? Arthur grunted. People like him are part of our group now, Arthur thought internally. And Mary… It stung him each time he thought of her, but there was little he could do. 

He knew he had to move on, he knew that things had changed now—after last year’s robbery, they were officially thieves, leading lives that had a difficult path ahead of them. Each and everyone in the camp had to be careful and ready for any change. Riley didn’t seem to fit that image, in Arthur’s mind.

“Somethin’ on your mind, Arthur?” John’s voice alerted him.

John Marston’s voice had recently undergone a change. Puberty hit him late, something Arthur made fun of him for, but once it had hit him, the growth spurt surely surprised everyone at camp. Especially Dutch. Dutch wanted John to take up arms, something Arthur wasn’t so sure about, but knowing Dutch, he definitely had a plan. And Dutch’s plans always work.

“What do ya think o’ that kid, Riley, eh John?” Arthur asked, looking at Mrs. Grimshaw speaking to Riley near Dutch’s camp.

“He looks funny,” John said, smirking. “Maybe he’s as old as me. Thas’ why he’s small o’ somethin’.”

“Hm,” Arthur wasn’t too sure. Something about the kid seemed off. “Maybe, maybe.”

Riley didn’t want to be a part of the group. He had other plans, and even if he was simply passing by, he knew where he had to go. Considering how he held a secret as big as his entire life, being a part of a gang where he could be easily exposed was not one of those plans. Meeting Dutch took the life out of him, almost, Dutch seemed intimidating and every glance that the gang leader gave Riley almost made him believe Dutch had figured him out.

“I’ve figured you out, Riley.” Dutch said, interrupting Susan Grimshaw, a kind lady.

Riley’s eyes almost widened, but he had to maintain his composure. He could feel everybody’s eyes on him.

“You’ve got sad eyes, boy,” Dutch said, smirking. “With a lil’ groomin’, you’re gonna be a great gunslinger. No one would expect you to hold a gun, let alone shoot from one!”

Riley wanted to scream, but there was no way he would let Dutch or anyone know he could talk. If he spoke, they would know his secret, and that was something he would avoid with everything he had. Riley shook his head, uninterested to learn, uninterested to be a part of a gang of thieves, desperate for God knows what reason, to not have him be a part of them.

“I believe he ain’t interested in bein’ a part o’ this, Dutch.” Arthur spoke up, suddenly, walking toward them. Riley’s eyes followed the twenty-five year old gruff male, before looking back at Dutch.

“Why not?” Dutch asked, folding his hands.

Riley put his hands in the air. There was very little he could do to communicate, but he would try. He reached for the notebook inside his bag, and started to scribble, surprising both Dutch and Hosea, that he could write.

I don’t want to be a part of you all. I’ll be a burden. I can use guns for my safety, but I am a lousy thief. Please, excuse me.

Hosea read the words aloud and Dutch sighed. He raised his hands in the air, before groaning.

“Well, I ain’t got time for this. Gotta meet Colm o'Driscoll for some...bank information later tonight.”

Riley’s eyes widened a second later, and time seemingly stopped for him. Quickly, Riley reached for Dutch’s sleeve, with wide eyes, shocking the rest of the gang who were ready to murder Riley if he ever so lay a finger on Dutch. A moment later, they realized, that he simply held the man’s hand.

Riley waited, Dutch stared back.

“o’Driscoll?” He repeated, wondering if this was what stopped Riley.

Riley couldn’t believe it. He knew he had heard the name somewhere, and he knew that if this were a turn of events, Riley was simply lucky. If Dutch knew Colm, then he was one step closer to where he had to be.

He once again began to scribble, before turning things around.

Please let me be a part of your group. I will sling guns and watch horses and do anything you ask. All I ask for is a favor in return.

“And what’s that, kid?” Hosea asked, now curious.

Riley’s eyes were now cold. He wrote again, albeit, slowly this time.

I want Colm o’Driscoll’s head.

○

It was a quiet afternoon at the camp. Arthur and John were listening to Dutch read Emerson again, something John found a tad bit boring, but Arthur listening. However, even as Arthur listened to Dutch, he knew the man had something else running in his mind. Something that had happened earlier that morning, which changed everything about the camp or was slowly beginning to.

“Why? What do you want with Colm o’Driscoll?” Hosea asked, shocked.

Riley shook his head and refused to write more. Arthur could see the boy’s hands shake, and a frown sit on his face, however, it seemed strangely odd. Judging from the behavior the boy was displaying, Arthur knew it had something to do with—

“Vengeance?” Dutch said out loud, a slow smirk sitting on his lips.

He didn’t really like Colm all that much, but stayed away from ruining things because things would ultimately get bad for the both of them. With Dutch being wanted now, they couldn’t afford to get more on their plate. And the o’Driscoll boys were trouble.

Riley didn’t nod, but looked down to the ground. His hands clutched the book he was holding and it seemed as if Riley was lot in thought. Arthur felt for the boy a tad bit, but it was sympathy that he needn’t feel in the first place. He could tell the difference—Riley’s death would mean nothing to him; and if his death meant nothing, than even his vengeance meant nothing.

“Alright, boy. Listen. If you want us to help ya, you’ll have to give us more than wanting Colm o’Driscoll’s head.”

Riley looked at Hosea as he said that and began to write again.

He’s got a debt he never paid back.

“With you?” Dutch laughed, patting the boy’s shoulder.

Riley nodded, unblinking. There was something different now about him, Arthur could tell. It was almost as if Riley seemed uncaring to everyone around him. His eyes and body language turned cold, despite him looking like he needed to grow up.

“He done somethin’ bad to ya, boy?” Arthur asked this time and Riley wrote again.

Terrible.

Arthur could tell that this was enough for Dutch. There was an idea looming in the man’s head, his eyes sparkled the same way it sparkled before Dutch wanted to rob that bank a year ago. Something wasn’t right, something is going to awry, Arthur couldn’t put his finger on it, but he trusted Dutch. Dutch would never do something crazy and jeopardise the lives of those in the camp.

“Don’t get any o’us killed, ya got that?” Arthur said, almost as if he snapped, and walked away.

What he didn’t see at that second was Riley frowning a tad bit more than he already was.

“Dutch…” Arthur spoke up, suddenly, breaking his reading.

Dutch looked at Arthur and blinked. “Somethin’ wrong, Arthur?”

Arthur sighed, “I don’ get no good feelin’ from that Riley boy.”

Dutch sighed in retaliation, “Listen, Arthur, there’s somethin’ about that kid that I think we can use. It’s making use of potential, son. Don’t you agree, John?”

Dutch was starting to involve John in almost everything now and it didn’t sit easy with Arthur.

“I think he looks funny,” John said, “He looks almost like a girl.”

Arthur chuckled and ruffled the boy’s head, “You’re goin’ blind, Marston.”

John grumbled.

“Listen, Arthur,” Dutch said this time, voice more sullen that the last time, “There’s something about his eyes that spoke to me more than that notebook o’ his,” Arthur didn’t understand. “There’s so much pain in his eyes, son. Almost as if it’s stoppin’ him from living.”

Arthur remembered the last time Dutch had said something similar.

“You’ve got to understand, Arthur. You, of all people, you.” Dutch said.

Dutch had said the same about Arthur himself.

○

Riley got a small run down tent to stay in. He had no horse yet, which meant that he had to buy one, but considering how little money he had, he knew he had to wait. He felt handicapped, but that wouldn’t stop him from knowing he was heading toward where he had to go.

Colm o’Driscoll, he thought before opening a particular page in his book. There, he had names written in an order. The third name was Colm’s and the first two were Horace and Dalton Newcomb. There were a total of seven names, which meant seven times he would have to extract vengeance. Riley then shared at his palm, thinking of the last time it had slipped his fingers. He could have killed Colm that night, but he chose not to. He cursed his mind, he cursed that he felt terrible—Colm had after all, saved his life, but was instead a menace.

“I promise ya’ kid. I’ll save yer brother.” Colm had once said.

“False promises,” (y/n) (l/n) uttered, closing the book and keeping it back in her bag.

All of this, she thought as fresh tears filled her eyes. All of this torture for him, she thought, closing her bag and touching her chest. She felt the bruises. And, the tightness of the bandages suddenly made her breathless. To hide who I am, she thought before running her fingers across the rim of the bandage. She had tied it around her torso to push back her breasts, from people not figuring out that she was a woman.

Being a woman in a time like this was difficult. She would end up as Mrs. Grimshaw, nice and kind and lovely, but Mrs. Grimshaw wouldn’t be allowed to extract vengeance. She would ask someone else, and (y/n) had no mind for that. She wanted to control death, which she understood abandoned her when she needed it—instead, she made a pact with vengeance for something no one else but her can do. If she had to hide her identity, then so be it.

She would kill Colm o’Driscoll and then she would kill Horace and Dalton.

She would kill them all for slaughtering her parents and murdering her brother.

I’m sorry I took your name, baby brother, she thought, wiping the tears away. But, I will not let your death be in vain. You died for me that night, and I will end those responsible.

(y/n) (l/n) was barely alive. Vengeance kept her breathing.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan imagine #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 online #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #john marston #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption spoilers #red dead fandom

[reddeadrevival]

Kieran x F!Reader (Part 2) - [NSFT]

                   (Purple heart means HIGH Smut in this post)

Continuing my previous Kieran x Reader fic

Avoided using "Y/N" like the previous part even though I ended up starting 3 sentences in a row with "She" at one point. Kinda rushed this honestly, probably could’ve made it better...

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Oral Male Receiving, Voyeurism? 

The next morning, after the fun with the not-so-mystery woman, Kieran avoided looking at her as best as he could. She walked by him and gave him a wink, smirking when his cheeks flushed. He couldn't help the thoughts and images coming to his head. As much as he tried to think of other things, it was too late. A tent had begun to form in his pants and he had no way to hide it.

She noticed and gave him an apologetic look as her own cheeks flushed. It was her fault after all but there was nothing she could do about it now. He looked around for any sign of anyone looking before he shifted as best he could to try and hide it. Kieran risked looking at her again to see her thinking, biting her bottom lip slightly. He remembered kissing those lips, they were so soft and- He slammed his head back against the tree with a quiet groan. A thought came to her and she suddenly smiled at him. He frowned slightly, a bit scared of what she was going to do.

Unfortunately her thinking was in order to make it better she had to make it worse. There were too many people around and the tree was in too open of an area for her to touch him at all. Without turning from him she glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Most people were still asleep with a few were walking about but no one was looking. Kieran watched her curiously until it clicked as she bent over to adjust the lace on her boot. He swallowed thickly as he had a clear view of her plump cleavage. As she fiddled with the lace, her arms seemed to press her breasts together so much they looked ready to pop out of her blouse. His hips bucked involuntarily and he let out a small hiss. As she stood up again her hand grabbed the bottom half of her skirt and slowly lifted it to reveal some of her leg. Kieran was biting his bottom lip and trying not to let out a whimper stuck in his throat. He watched her walk over to the large water barrel and soak a rag in it before going over to one of the tables nearby. She bent over it as she cleaned up the remains of someone's game of five finger fillet. She glanced back to see him staring with his mouth open. She walked around the table and proceeded to do the same thing only facing him so he could see her cleavage once again. After a few moments she stood up straight and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, squeezing the rag in the process and wetting her blouse. He let out a shaky breath and shifted, trying to get any kind of friction from the fabric of his pants. She went back to cleaning the table and didn't notice Arthur walking up to the tree.

"What-? Oh, yer sick, O'Driscoll." Kieran looked up at him with wide eyes. "Who are you-?" He looked in the direction Kieran had been looking in and saw Y/N. "Get your eyes off a' her," he growled.

"I-I can't help it!" Kieran squeaked. "L-look at her," he breathed as his eyes wandered back to her. He couldn't mention that she was doing it on purpose for him.

"I said to stop lookin'," Arthur snapped. "You should be ashamed of yerself, lookin' at her like that, thinkin' whatever yer thinkin'."

"I-I'm not doin' it on purpose!"

"No one's makin' you look!"

"But she's…" he stopped as she looked over and saw Arthur standing there. Arthur saw her and quickly stepped in front of Kieran to hide the now glaringly obvious tent from her. Kieran looked up at him in confusion.

"I ain't lettin' her see that," he motioned to the other man's crotch as he himself avoided looking.

"Y-ya gotta help me," Kieran pleaded. "I can't just- just make it go away, ya know."

"Only way yer gettin' off this tree is talkin', boy."

"Fine, I'll talk, I'll talk, just let me… take care a' this. Please. B-before she sees." Arthur grimaced.

"Damn it," he looked around and scratched his chin. "Alright, fine."

"Thank you, thank you,"

"Shut up or I'm not gonna do anything,"

Seeing Arthur untying their captive Bill walked over.

"What are you doin', Morgan?" Arthur hesitated.

"Taken the kid to relieve himself."

"Hasn't been drinking, shouldn't need to,"

"Don't ever become a doctor, Bill," was all Arthur said as he finished untying Kieran. "Let Dutch know, won't be long. Just don't want none of the women to have to see."

"Right." Arthur led Kieran away all while she watched. He brought him far enough away from the camp with a big enough rock between them.

"You run, I shoot."

"Got it… uh… a-a little privacy?" He glanced to see Arthur still facing him but not looking directly at him.

"I ain't gonna watch, I can only see yer head," Arthur growled as he shot the man a glare.

"R-right,"

"Get a move on then, ain't got all day," Arthur grumbled. Kieran nodded and pulled his pants down enough to pull himself out. He closed his eyes as he started to stroke himself, thinking about the previous night. He heard a slight rustle and turned his head to see her. She put her finger to her lips and he covered himself instinctively. The rock hid her, she was able to get passed Arthur without him seeing by going around. Kieran stared with wide eyes as she got on her knees in front of him and smiled up at him. He slowly uncovered himself and let out a gasp as he watched her lick the tip. He heard Arthur groan in disgust. "You got five minutes," he warned.

Kieran was about to open his mouth to reply when she took in his tip. Her hands slid up his thighs to caress the revealed skin as her head sunk down on him. His head flew back, almost hitting the rock, and he clenched his fists against it. She took his hands and placed them on her head. He stared down at her as his hips moved slightly. Her hands went to her blouse and he looked confused before suddenly her breasts were rubbing against him as she put him between them. His mouth fell open as he watched her. She licked the tip each time it poke out from between her breasts and he had to bite his fist from crying out when she sucked hard on it, twirling her tongue over the head. Her tongue traced up and down his shaft, sucking a ball into her mouth making him almost choke. With a final long slow lick up his shaft she took him back in her mouth and started bobbing her head, fondling him in the process. His hips jerked and bucked as she brought him closer and closer to climax. He tried to warn her silently that he was about to, he gripped her hair and pulled her away but the tip remained in her mouth and she was sucking even harder if possible. He did his best to hold in the groan but couldn't help it as he shot into her mouth. She swallowed and licked her lips as she looked up at him. He stared down at her in awe as she kissed his thigh gently. She winked at him as she fixed her blouse before sneaking away. Kieran tried to catch his breath as he leaned against the rock.

"You done?" Arthur asked a grimace clear in his voice.

"Y-Yeah," Kieran squeaked. He heard a gun click.

"Great, now tell me about where Colm is or I'm will shoot you before I shoot myself."

(Master List)

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead 2 #reddead2 #Kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy #nsft #smut #arthur morgan

[allzelemonz]

Masterlist: Red Dead Redemption

Main Masterlist

Too many fics for them all to fit in one post. See the character and other sections for specific fics.

Updated 3/17/24

Abe

Arthur Morgan

Bill Williamson

Charles Smith

Colm O'Driscoll

Dutch Van der Linde

Javier Escuella

John Marston

Kieran Duffy

Micah Bell

Sean MacGuire

Multi Pairing (character/reader/character)

Scenario Masterlist

Ships

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #x male reader #x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #micah bell x reader #micah bell x male reader #micah bell #bill williamson #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson x male reader #kieran duffy #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy x male reader #sean macguire #sean macguire x male reader #sean macguire x reader #rdr2 abe #rdr2 abe x reader #rdr2 abe x male reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #x gender neutral reader #charles smith #dutch van der linde #javier escuella #john marston

[allzelemonz]

An Omega’s Place: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader x Kieran Duffy

Pronouns: he/him Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Smut, language, noncon Warnings: Noncon, Alpha Colm O’Driscoll, Omega Kieran Duffy, a/o/o, mating cycles/in heat, scenting, kissing, anal sex, hand jobs, forced mating, forced bond, mentions of breeding Summary: O’Driscolls never have treated their Omegas very well, especially not during a rut.

The O’Driscolls keep the Omegas packed together in a shed, taking care not to lose any when they move from camp to camp. Every camp has at least one no matter the size, Alphas and Betas need entertainment after all. Entertainment and the promise of a future for the gang. In the O’Driscolls, Omegas are only good for fucking. The pleasure of their superiors and the endless development of their children.

And you’ve been with them for almost a year.

Not often picked, thankfully. Only the occasional Beta, a certain Alpha. Humiliating every time, but it could be worse. Some Omegas here are common toys of Alphas, dragged away every night and returned with a swell so big they may as well have conceived. Those that do are always taken away to a tent with a bed, treated like humans until it’s over. You spend most of your time keeping to yourself against the wall. When the Betas come in you sometimes have to watch an Omega get shoved to the ground and bred because they don’t want any Alpha scent messing with the Omega’s head. Usually it’s an Alpha that comes in, taking their pick and leaving with not much other than pretty words.

A week ago they brought in a new one. Betas were talking about how much fun he was when they threw in on the ground and locked the door again. A few Omegas went to him, helped him with the bruises and the cuts and the swell. Then he sat next to you, shaking and trying to breathe. You don’t blame him, no Omegas come to the O’Driscolls willingly. Then at night he had nightmares and you took pity on him enough to cuddle him. From there it became the standard. He would shake and you would hold him. Sometimes you’d kiss his head, night or day, simply because it felt right and he enjoyed it. 

Kieran Duffy always found his way into your arms and gave such soft kisses and talked about such nice things. Horses mostly, he loves horses and fishing and cuddling. In the last few days you’ve taken quite a fondness of him, understanding why decent Alphas are so protective now. The other Omegas don’t really care, some even give you smiles when Kieran sits in your lap or you kiss him.

But good things are never allowed to last.

Colm O’Driscoll is in camp. Or so Tom’s favorite Omega says when she comes back.

“He was complaining about not being top Alpha in camp anymore.” She says, Omegas huddled around her like it’s a scary campfire tale. “A couple Betas talked to him when he was bringing me back, they said he’s staying for a few weeks.”

Whispers fill the crowd at the news. Your body tenses and you can feel Kieran hug you a little tighter. He knows who Colm is, everyone’s warned him.

“Did they say why?” One of the older Omegas asks, making the whispers go quiet.

She shakes her head. “Not really…”

“Come now, child.” The older Omega chides. “We’re a pack, no secrets from pack.”

She takes a moment, playing with her hands. “They might have said something about a rut.”

The mood in the shack changes and it takes a lot of gentle shushing from the older Omega to get everyone calm again. They sigh when everyone looks at them, long tired of playing the parent.

“Colm has only ever had one during ruts, so the rest of you can calm yourselves.” They push away from the crowd and everyone watches as they kneel in front of you. “You need to prepare yourself.”

Kieran looks at you but all you can do is stare at the older Omega. They were here when Colm came looking, just a few days after you’d been taken. He looked at every Omega, but his eyes landed on you. They were there when the Betas brought you back and your body ached and your head spun. They were there when Colm picked you again, and again. Three ruts and you hardly remember a second of them.

“Think on the bright side, child.” The older Omega attempts a comforting smile. “You’ll get a bed for a few nights.”

You give them a smile for no other reason than to get them away from you. They leave, returning to reassure the other Omegas that worry. It’s likely other Alphas will catch scent of the rut and get agitated, some might come for an Omega of their own. At least the Betas will be occupied by that instinct to protect the rutting Alpha, none of them should bother.

“Y-You n’ Colm?” Kieran asks in a soft voice.

“Only during his ruts.”

Kieran nuzzles into your neck, his nose pressing against your scent patch and smelling like he’ll never get to do it again. “He never… caught durin’ a heat er nothin’?”

You shiver a bit at the memory. O’Driscoll Omegas aren’t fed well enough to have very frequent heats but you have had one here. Betas came in when they smelled it, checking to see if it was any Alpha’s preferred Omega. You’d already spent a rut with Colm so they took you to him. Looking back you consider yourself lucky that he was in camp. If no Alpha in particular wants the Omega for themselves, they might share.

“Just one.” You sigh, leaning into Kieran as he hugs you close.

“‘m sorry.”

“Just how things are, Kieran.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, bordering your scent patch and making you take a sharp breath at the feeling of pleasure. What you wouldn’t give to be somewhere nice with Kieran. Far away from the O’Driscolls and back in civilization where Omegas aren’t simply toys for the amusement of criminals. Maybe spend your heats together.

“I’ll be fine.” You sigh, a hand petting Kieran’s hair.

“Don’t mean I ain’t gonna worry.”

Hours pass, simple hours of tight holds and soft kisses. Then a Beta opens the door, Colm pushing him aside. His scent is light but very much the beginnings of a rut. Every Omega perks, some unable to stop themselves from stepping closer to him. Betas come in, pushing the Omegas away as Colm walks to you. There wasn’t enough time to untangle yourself from Kieran and you know that Colm saw by the smile on his face.

“Got yerself a little sweetheart, Omega?”

Kieran shrinks back against the wall, resisting the urge that makes you not fight when Colm pulls you to your feet. He holds your waist and presses his nose to your neck, scenting deeply.

“So sweet…” He mutters.

He turns you, pushing you into a couple of Betas that hold you still. They tighten their hold on your arms when you struggle as he kneels down to Kieran. Kieran, who you have been able to keep away from prying eyes until now, he hasn’t been touched since he was taken last week. Colm pushes Kieran’s hair back and the compelled Omega leans into the touch, not protesting as he’s scented.

Colm groans softly. “Ya smell like ‘em…”

Never in a million years did you think your scent would rub off on Kieran, especially without marking. You’ve heard of it before, people that spend time together picking up each other’s scents. You’d only ever heard of it happening with families. But an Alpha’s nose, particularly one nearing rut, wouldn’t mistake something like the scent of an Omega he’s rutted lingering on someone else.

Colm pulls Kieran to his feet and the poor kid doesn’t know how to resist the enamoring scent. The Beats holding you walk behind Colm as his hands guide Kieran by the waist. The direct sunlight makes you blink rapidly and the change in scent is jarring. You’d gotten so used to the comforting smells of other Omegas and the timid ones of the occasional Beta that your nose flooding with the different scents of O’Driscoll Alphas nearly chokes you.

You’re taken to Colm’s cabin, the same one from his last rut. The Betas push you inside after Colm and Kieran, closing the door. There is no lock, there doesn’t need to be. Betas usually like the scent of an Alpha in rut, there will be plenty lingering outside to keep any offended Alphas away. And with Colm’s scent getting stronger, you wouldn’t want to leave anyway.

Colm sits on the bed and Kieran is so caught in his scent that he doesn’t need to be told to sit on the man’s lap. The good thing about ruts is that the scent doesn’t make you lose your mind to mating the way a heat does to Alphas. You have your senses, Colm just smells nice and you don’t want to leave. You also have the experience to be able to enjoy it from a distance. Kieran doesn’t have that. He does what you did during the first rut you spent with Colm, he drinks in the scent from the source. So enthralled in it that he doesn’t care about Colm’s dick grinding into his ass.

You make yourself sit in one of the chairs by the dining table, trying to breathe more through your mouth than your nose. Kieran begins to whimper, that instinct naturally taking over him in the presence of an Alpha. It always makes it harder to resist. Rut or not, an Alpha’s scent and the beginnings of intimacy always twist the minds of Omegas. You know the feeling and you wish there was something you could do about it. You just try not to watch, try not to listen as Kieran starts to beg and Colm starts to say those gross promises.

But as his scent gets stronger, much more compelling, you find yourself needing to be much closer to the Alpha. You try to fight it, but it’s much too strong now. As you approach, you find Colm fucking harshly into a presenting Kieran. Slick drips out with every thrust and Kieran whines and pleads to be filled. It makes your stomach turn, but you need to be close to Colm. The Alpha smiles at you, his hips slowing a bit as his hands pull you closer. Kieran fucks himself back into Colm as the Alpha kisses you and his hands roam your body, one falling almost immediately to squeeze your dick through your pants. Then he lets you go and you can finally press into his neck and breathe in the nice scent you crave.

“Such good little Omegas.” He chuckles. “Right where ya belong.”

You hear Kieran cry out, assuming he’s released but not able to tear yourself away from Colm’s scent patch to check. Colm tugs your pants down and in your twisted state, you help him. Your mind is too fogged to focus now but you feel the soft sheets under you all of the sudden and a second later Colm is pushing into you. Your ass drips with slick as he fills you and now that Omega instinct comes over, wanting nothing more than to be bred again and again.

Very softly, fingers run through your hair. You meet Kieran’s eyes, blown out in a state of bliss. Neither of you have much sense beside pleasing the Alpha in hopes that he fucks you both until you’re dripping with his seed. So Kieran kisses you, much rougher than either of you ever have. Behind you, Colm groans and pumps you full as his knot keeps him there. He’s knotted you before, he usually does.

“That’s it, pretty Omegas.” He says with a moan, his hand running along your back. “Keep warm fer yer Alpha.”

You can’t stop the whimper as Kieran’s hand leaves your hair. Colm pulls you back with him, making you sit in his lap as he beckons Kieran closer. It’s you that kisses him this time, your mind coming back a bit and just wanting to feel something aside from Colm. But the Alpha’s hand finds yours and directs it to Kieran’s dick. He holds you there, starting to pump faster than Kieran can handle and making him whimper against your lips. You try to distract him, try to be soft in your kisses to comfort him, but Colm squeezes your hand so tight around him that you know it has to hurt.

Then in your ear, in that low and commanding voice only an Alpha can bring on. “Fuck him fer me, Omega.”

It compels your already rattled mind and, just as Colm’s knot relaxes, you push Kieran back and climb on top of him. Colm stays back, watching his selected Omegas as they kiss and grind. And his hand pumps his dick when he watches you slide yours into Kieran, the command of an Alpha spurring you on. Still, it’s Kieran under you. You have the sense to gentle, to more make love than fuck until Colm pushes you down and enters you again.

With every rock of his hips, you’re pushed into Kieran. Both of you whining those nonsense pleas about Alphas and breeding and being full. Colm’s hands dig into your hips, clawing with every thrust. For once you’re thankful it’s a rut, because Colm cums much faster than he might otherwise. For the second time, he knots you and fills you so much that it makes your stomach hurt. He grinds you into Kieran and you’re overwhelmed, shooting slick deep inside the other Omega.

“Gonna have my kids, Omega?” Colm mutters against your ear as he leans over you. “‘bout time ya did, been makin’ me wait so long.”

“Colm…” Your breath hitches as he ghosts his teeth over your scent patch. “A-Alpha… please no…”

Your plea doesn’t stop him. He sinks his teeth into your scent patch and you whine from the bit of pain it causes. When he pulls back, he kisses the mark before pulling you away from Kieran. You slip out of him and he whimpers, curling in on himself from the empty feeling. Colm has you in his lap for a while, whispering things about breeding you and claiming you in your ear until his knot relaxes and he pushes you off.

He pulls you back by the arm, his grip bruising. “Mark me back er I kill the Omega.”

Your eyes dart to Kieran for a moment. He’s exhausted, only half awake as he lets out soft whimpers of pain.

“Might mark him too…” Colm says, his fingers running along your jaw. “Gotta make sure he’s worth it first.”

His rut is in a lull, he’s in complete control of his mind. His eyes aren’t blown or glazed, they’re cutting. You know he’d make good on his threat and then force you into marking him anyway, so you carefully lean in as he pets your hair. Your head swims a bit again as you take in his scent so directly and you sink your teeth into the mark. Colm hisses at the feeling, his hand pulling your hair and forcing you back.

“Always so damn well behaved fer yer Alpha.” He growls, forcing you onto your back.

He doesn’t waste time, pushing into you again. When you turn your head you see Kieran has fallen fast asleep, just inches from you. He’s alive, at least he’s alive.

#tw r@pe #omegaverse #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 #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader

[allzelemonz]

Well Behaved: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 28, Daddy Kink Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/References to sex Warnings: Colm being sweet, cuddling by a fire, blankets, soft behavior, daddy kink, neck kissing, sensual touching, cozy setting, I wrote this in thirty degree weather because cold Summary: A warm night by the fire with Colm.

The cabin Colm claimed at this camp is nice. Nicer than usual at least. The bed is bigger, the fireplace actually warms the whole structure, and there’s a clean-ish bathtub. Colm’s first thoughts of what to do with such features were all perverted, of course. The only thing that hasn’t been a focal point yet is the fireplace, but Colm is feeling sweet tonight. It’ll be christened like everything else.

He’s gotten you a nice, warm drink, blankets sprawled a somewhat safe distance from the flames, cozy clothes that he’d kill anyone else that saw him in. A cold night by the fire makes for perfection and pampering. Colm has you sitting between his legs, his arms around you and his face buried wherever it fits so he can take in your newly-bathed scent or press kisses to bare skin. Of course, Colm insisted you not bother putting your clothes back on. Your modesty only protected by a warm blanket.

“How’s my boy?” He murmurs against your neck, stilling his kisses for only a moment.

You set your cup down carefully, knowing that his question means what comes next will result in a spill if you keep holding it. “I’m good.”

“Come on now, sugar.” He nuzzles his nose in behind your ear. “Daddy worked hard tonight.”

“I know.” You sigh, leaning a bit more into him. “Thank you, daddy.”

“That’s a good boy.” He sighs.

His hands wander over your bare skin, fingers digging slightly on occasion. He has his favorite parts of you, pressing his palms against your freshly washed skin and feeling the warmth that remains from the water and is renewed by arousal.

“Daddy’s feeling a little tired tonight, sugar.”

You carefully look back at him, earning a quick kiss to your cheek. “Tired?”

“How about we just settle fer the night?” Colm says, his lips hovering above your shoulder. “Cuddlin’ my little boy in front of the fire, sounds like a nice night.”

“You sure, daddy?”

He smiles against your skin, chuckling softly. “I’m sure, sugar. I can always fuck ya proper in the morning” He brings a hand up to hold you jaw, making sure you look at him. “I now daddy’s little boy can’t go too long with a good fuck, can he?”

“I can wait until morning, daddy.”

He smiles, releasing your jaw to press one more kiss to your neck. “Yer such a good boy for me.”

Colm groans a bit as he moves, his joints not quite agreeing with the strain. He settles back onto the blankets he laid out, holding an arm open for you. After taking a sip from your cozy drink, you settle into Colm’s arms, head resting on his chest. He tugs a blanket up and over the both of you, pressing a kiss to your head before he settles back again.

“Get a good sleep, sugar.” He sighs. “Ya got a long morning tomorrow.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #fictober

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The O’Driscoll Golden Boy: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘feller’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, murder, implied mutilation, references to castration Warnings: Power dynamics, power imbalance, oral sex, face fucking, deep throating, praise, abuse/unhealthy relationship, marking, possessive behavior, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, facial, humiliation, slight aftercare, hints of fluff if you really squint, homophobia, period-typical heavy homophobia Summary: Colm’s golden boy made a little mistake. The boss doesn’t like that.

Every job always goes smoothly. Every job. Not once have you ever messed up. Not like this. Riding with the O’Driscolls has always been fun so long as Colm is pleased, and Colm is always pleased with you. Pleased enough to drag you into his bed and show you what being the golden boy really means. But tonight… tonight you won’t even be making it back to camp, let alone your boss’s cabin and that big warm bed he’s had these past few weeks.

No, tonight you got caught.

Frankly you should consider yourself very lucky to be breathing.

Sheriff nearly broke your arm hog tying you though, probably shouldn’t be happy about that. He acts like he’s some god when he and his deputies get you in a cell. Something about a bounty having just been raised. Your head’s too fogged from getting hit and your arm hurts far too much to care anyway. Last poster you saw had upwards of a thousand, but that was about a big job further out West. Who knows which state you’re even in at this rate.

Then one of them says it. “Colm O’Driscoll’s golden boy!”

It’s a sneer, mocking and provoking, as they all turn to look at you. You’ve sat down on the floor of the cell, nowhere else to sit and your feet and legs are tired from running. You almost want to stand just so they’re not looking down on you, but in the end you find yourself much too tired to care.

“Should hang ‘em ourselves.” One of the deputies says. “Heard he’s done some sick shit.”

Of course you have. Colm asked you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

Another deputy pulls a paper from the wall, tossing it on the table and letting it glide and spin. Your bounty poster, you assume. Terrible drawings really, they always are. It frankly surprises you anyone ever gets found.

“Wanted for murder, horse theft…”

You tune out the list of crimes, knowing all of them won’t even be listed on the little space. If they actually wrote everything out there wouldn’t be much room left to put your name and bounty, let alone a picture. It does leave out a lot of details though, important details in your opinion.

“He the one what did those robberies up along the forest, killed those families?”

Yes. You are. They had money, more than they needed. At first you asked nicely, then you didn’t. Business is business and it got you a nice reward from your boss.

“Couple damn orphans came outta that string.”

They’re fine. You even took them into town and gave them some bread and cheese. Boys wanted to shoot them too, you’re a saint in comparison.

“An’ he’s runnin’ with Colm O’Driscoll.” One of them glares at you. “Bet some a’ his charges could trickle down.”

Sure they could. You’ve helped Colm with plenty of things you’ve never seen yourself charged with. Not that you want to recall any of that or have it formally charged. You only kept your mouth shut about it all because you’re smart enough to be deadly loyal when it comes to Colm. You’d never say no to his orders or his requests. That would be stupid.

“I heard he got sodomy in the next state over too.”

Oh, that was a fun clash with the law. Colm fucking you in a back alley in some big city only for a lawman to find you, add charges for you but not Colm. Bullshit really, but it was such a good time that you recall it with fondness. You got rewarded for getting away when you got back to camp after all.

“Love ta see ‘em hang.”

If it would get them to shut up, you might opt for it. You’re starting to get a headache from all the hitting and incessant discussion of your crimes. Your guns aren’t that far away. If they just happened to drink a little more of that whiskey they pulled out to celebrate, got nice and distracted, you might be able to swipe them.

“It’s a three-thousand dollar bounty.” The sheriff snaps. “We’re takin’ ‘em ta the city.”

A trip to the city, a poorly guarded jail car, easy target. If not that, then easy lock picking. But you know the boys that got away will run back to camp with their tails between their legs, tell Colm all that happened, and seeing as Colm had said plenty of dirty things in your ear before you left, he will be a little upset that you didn’t come back like you always do. Cash in hand, happy to take the reward Colm is so desperate to give you. You used to think that’s all it was, the boss giving his best, his golden boy, a reward for doing well on a job. But Colm slips up in his facade sometimes, enough to see he doesn’t just want to fuck his golden boy.

There have been times where you’ve woken up, pretended to sleep, while Colm presses very uncharacteristically sweet kisses all over your face. There’s the occasional exchange before a shootout where he steps in front of you as if you need protecting. Little things a cruel outlaw might do when in love with his dear golden boy. Not that Colm would ever admit anything like that. No, he’ll hide it and let out his frustrations about not being able to act sweet by fucking you senseless under the guise of rewards.

And you have been well aware of this for years now. Not that you’d ever bring it up.

“Could at least let some widows an’ orphans rest a little easy…” One of the deputies says with a slur to his voice. “Hard ta shoot folk without no hands.”

A few of them laugh and you find yourself looking at your hands. You are quite attached to your hands, both in the literal and figurative sense. Though you can think of a few ways to pull a trigger without them, you’d still rather keep them.

“I’d rather castrate ‘em.”

That gets more laughter. It’s an idiotic joke in itself. Once again, you’re quite attached to your dick and would like to keep it and its friends. But, just like the shooting, there are other ways you can think of to get around the loss of an appendage. Colm hardly touches it half the time anyway. Still would rather keep it though.

“Who’s ta say he ain’t cause us some problems.” Another laughs. “Could give ‘em a good beatin’.”

At the rate they’ve gotten themselves drunk, you would like to see them try. One of the deputies stumbles past the others. They watch as he takes out the keys, snickering and giving light cheers as he glares down at you. The second that door opens it will become very easy to take his gun and shoot the drunken fools. Though it is tempting to only disarm a few, maybe pay them their own threats before finishing them off.

But then the large front door to the sheriff’s office opens and several men flood inside. All thankfully featuring green somewhere on their bodies. The drunk lawmen drop to the ground as the boys shoot out their legs. They cry and whimper until blows land on their heads and the boys tell them to shut up. The man by your cell sputters as he tries for his gun, the same one that recommended hanging you. A hole forms in his head and he falls, keys dropping to the floor. Of course it’s Colm that stands with his gun raised, an irritated look across his features.

One of the boys scrambles for the keys, unlocking the door as you stand. You walk out and stop yourself in front of Colm like the obedient dog you have become in his presence. Very slowly, he runs his hand over your chest until his fingers curl tightly into your shirt. He tugs you closer, glaring and angry in having to rescue his dear golden boy.

“Anythin’ ya wanna say, boy?”

You shake your head, knowing better than to say what needs to be said in front of the boys. Not that they don’t know, but that you’d rather hang than look as pathetic as you let yourself become in Colm’s hands.

“They treat ya nice?” He asks, his grip on your shirt loosening ever so slightly.

Your eyes trace over the men, finding the familiar faces that laughed about torture. “Sheriff’s fine, not those two.”

Colm follows your gaze. “Any recommendations?” He releases you, turning to look at the men cowing on the ground. “Boys deserve a little fun since we came all this way.”

And those men very much taste their own words. Colm doesn’t think you deserve to see such a fun little party, so he drags you outside by the collar. But the screams, they sound much better than the laughs.

“Ya wanna explain yerself, boy?” Colm seethes, throwing you roughly against the stone wall that makes up the side of the sheriff’s office.

It’s too dark to see his face. Too late for people to be out and about, even with the screaming. This town is small, surrounded by gangs, no one would be so stupid to leave their home right now.

You stumble a bit, settling yourself against the wall, knowing very well Colm wants you where he puts you. “Can’t explain it, boss. The detonator should have worked.”

His hand winds into your hair, pulling you towards him. The pain shoots through your scalp, a good half of it running down to your dick knowing Colm’s habits. In the dim light of a lantern you can now see his face with the proximity. Perhaps his habits won’t be holding up, he looks rather displeased.

“And why is that?” He asks and you can practically feel the mocking in his voice.

He knows. He must know you messed up. His golden boy made a mistake, something that’s never happened before. You’re not entirely sure how he’ll react to it. But maybe you can talk your way out.

“Seamus probably.” You say as smoothly as you can with the grimace on your face Colm’s rough tugging brings on. “He’s the one that wired things.”

Faster than you can blink, Colm shoves your head back into the wall. The impact with the stone does nothing for your headache, even makes you see stars a little. Your vision is double and shaky as Colm grips harshly onto your cheek to make you look at him, his other hand still gripping at your hair. For a few seconds you see two of his angry face, but as he speaks it settles into one.

“I ain’t a fool, boy.” He hisses. “Ya messed up, lost me a lotta money.”

You groan as his hand tightens in your hair, the stinging not bringing any more pleasure and solely burning through your scalp.

“Here I thought you was perfect.”

That almost stings more than your head. Colm’s praises always keep you going and disappointing him is not something you ever want to do again.

“‘m sorry, boss.” You rasp. “I-I…”

Colm presses his nails into your skin, deep enough to leave marks across your face. “Shut yer damn mouth, pretty boy.”

You nod slightly in his grip, only unable to keep yourself from whimpering at the fresh pain. You can feel something trickle, something wet. By the momentary smirk on Colm’s face, you guess he’s drawn blood, perhaps even done enough to leave scars. Scars embedded into your cheek, Colm’s nails forever digging into your skin.

“Get on yer knees now, boy.”

His grip releases, pain no longer focusing where his hands were and now spreading back to your head as you drop to your knees. You land rough, not wanting to make Colm any more upset, not wanting to disappoint him again. With somewhat hungry eyes, you watch as he unfastens his pants. He pushes his gunbelt up, situating things around as he pulls out his dick. Long and thin, achingly hard, everything you remember. But you’ve never been on your knees before, never had your face so close.

“Fuckin’s a reward, pretty boy.” He grunts, pressing his dick to your lips. “Ya haven’t been very good.”

You don’t dare move without his order. There have been times where he’s thrown you out of his bed for being too eager, made you sit on the floor while he dealt with himself. But that was when he was happy with you, when his dear golden boy hadn’t made any mistakes. You fear what he might do if you make even a single move of your own. So you sit on your knees, taking in the musky scent of the thing you’re supposed to put in your mouth. You wouldn’t particularly describe Colm as a clean man.

He drags his tip along your chin and up to your cheek. You’d give anything for a bit more light to see his face but you’d likely die on the spot if anyone saw you like this. For a moment it stings and you know it’s rubbing over one of Colm’s marks on your cheek, the one his thumb made by your eye. You make a note to clean yourself thoroughly after this. As much as you want to please Colm, to hear his praises, you don’t want some infection from his unwashed dick rubbing into a cut on your face. He seems to enjoy doing though, and for a moment you shutter at the thought of what he would be doing if you had something as large as a stab wound instead.

Then his hand returns to your hair, tugging roughly enough to snap you out of any thought and make your focus turn entirely on him. He tilts your head back and you provide no resistance. Every step of the way, he guides your head. Pressing softly to your lips and urging you down onto him, you open your mouth without question. As he slides through your mouth you taste every inch on him. He certainly hasn’t bathed in a while and you could guess that from his hair, but this really sells it. He tastes like sweat and dirt and dried pomade. And as he forces himself all the way in, hitting the back of your throat as tears form in your eyes, your nose is pressed against an even more foul bunch of pubic hair. It smells like the rest of him, but it’s not nearly as pleasurable as a normal musk might be with the unkempt hairs tickling your nose. For a few seconds he simply sits in your mouth, his dick fully enveloped. You struggle not to panic. You’ve always known he was long, loved it when it hits you so well deep inside where most men could never imagine fucking, but now that he’s shoved himself down your throat you’re not quite as keen.

You can hardly hear his words with how much your head pounds. “Be a good boy an’ sit still.”

Then he moves. You have air for all of a second before he rams himself back in and your throat closes slightly around his tip. It chokes you but it must be the feeling he’s chasing because he does it again and again. At this rate you feel much more like a simple dark, wet hole than a golden boy. But Colm keeps you eager with praises.

“Look at chu, pretty boy.” He mutters. “Such a good boy, always makin’ the boss feel good.”

Of course you do. Colm ordered you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

“Shit, yer such a pretty thing.”

His hand still grips your hair as he forces your movements, fucking your mouth roughly. But his praises come with another hand, soft as he combs through your hair. Two sides of a coin, just like always, reward or punishment.

“Feel so damn good, boy.” He huffs, his hips starting to become erratic. “Always so good fer me, my golden boy.”

With that you can feel the tightness of your pants, but you don’t dare do a thing about it. Not without the boss’s permission, not without Colm’s smile and hungry eyes.

“Sit pretty fer me now.” He orders, pulling back.

His hands leave your hair, his dick slipping from your mouth. It takes a lot of control to stay upright, to not keel over and gasp for breath. Instead you stay as he left you, sputtering coughs and little gasps as your eyes fix on him. He works himself fast, his hand moving roughly against sensitive skin slicked by its time fucking into your throat. You close your eyes when he grunts, feeling warm streaks across your face a second later. As Colm hums to himself, you keep still. You feel the air around you shift as he kneels down in front of you. His lips press against yours, kiss slicked by his cum on your lips. He holds you still, his hand gripping that same spot in your hair with the same roughness as he kisses you deeply. Faintly, you feel something else against your skin. It rubs over your eyes and over your cheek. When Colm pulls back from his kissing you open your eyes.

He holds a rag in hand, running it over the cuts he made to keep them somewhat clean for the moment. His face holds a focus, but nothing else. No anger, no gentleness, simply focus as he wipes his cum off of some of your face. Not all, just what’s necessary, just your eyes and injuries. Then he tosses the rag to the ground, his other hand still tightly holding you in place by the hair. His eyes look over you, tracing along where you can feel the now cooling bits of him still on your skin. You take a sharp inhale as his free hand grips roughly onto your straining dick. His eyes bore into yours, anger now clear on his face.

“No more mistakes, pretty boy.” He warns. “I much prefer fuckin’ ya normal.”

You give him a small nod. “Yes, sir.”

He squeezes your dick. “My golden boy don’t make mistakes, do he?”

“No, sir.” You gasp out.

“An’ he’s gonna make that money back so I can fuck ‘em senseless, ain’t he?” His hand kneads down into your dick, giving it much needed friction.

“Fuck…” You groan. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He removes his hand, the other tugging tightly at your hair to make you focus on his face again. “Take them boys ‘n get me my money, pretty boy.”

You hold back a whimper from the lack of contact. “Yes, sir.”

He tugs again. “No cleanin’ up either, ya deserve what ya got.”

Then he releases you, standing as you fall on your hands and knees to the ground. You breathe heavily as he walks away, catching your breath and gaining your senses. You have blood drying along cuts from Colm’s nails, cum drying on your skin and likely your hair as well, no fit state to face a bunch of the boys. But of course you do. Colm told you to after all. That’s your job. Whatever Colm wants.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

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RDR Multi Pairing Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption Masterlist

For You: Micah Bell/Reader/Kieran Duffy

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘sir’, ‘mister’, ‘feller’, ‘boy’, ‘man’. Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence, References to Sex Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, Micah is an asshole, Kieran is repressed and shy, Kieran is injured, Micah actually likes his horse, Micah is injured, Baylock is injured, they’re all fine it’s okay, crime, death Summary: Kieran watches you from a distance, but things get bad when Micah notices and even worse when a job goes bad.

Not So Hidden: Bill Williamson/Reader/Kieran Duffy

Pronouns: None mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Voyeurism, accidental voyeur, anal fingering, anal sex, m/m/m, threesome, established relationship with a new third, kissing, cuddling, poly ending Summary: Things seems to be a normal night between you and Kieran, albeit more intimate than initially planned, but then you hear someone watching you.

His Boy: Dutch Van der Linde/Reader/Colm O’Driscoll (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9)

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’, ‘son’, ‘handsome’, ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, dub-con, language Warnings: Mentions of non-con of another character, dub-con, kidnapping, possessive behavior, possessive sex, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, begging, fisting, anal fingering, anal sex, biting, marking, choking, blow job, kissing, lap sitting, dancing, gang family, past relationship, forced cheating, torture, mentions of past Dutch/Hosea, Dutch/Susan, and Dutch/Annabelle Summary: A former flame of Dutch’s is returned and a lot has happened over the years.

No Good, Twisted, Fucking Day: O’Driscoll Boys

Pronouns: he/him Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: E/Smut, rape Warnings: Rape, wound fucking, dead dove do not eat, possessive behavior, outdoor sex, gang bang, anal sex, blood, gore, stabbing, loss of consciousness Summary: Stabbed, hardly aware, and surrounded by strange men that use whatever you have.

Flipped: Sean MacGuire/Reader/Kieran Duffy

Fictober Prompt: Day 16, Gentle threesome, Double penetration Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: threesome, rimming, kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, double penetration, fluff, smut, guys being dudes Summary: Sean’s big mouth ends up with you taking both he and Kieran at the same time.

Dare: Van der Linde Boys

Fictober Prompt: Day 17, Multi Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘man’, heavy masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: (have you ever been in a men’s locker room and things got a little weird), smut, background relationships, masturbation, hand jobs, kissing, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, facial, cum swallowing, Micah being an asshole, flirting, casual sex, everyone is gay but especially Bill Summary: Drunk Sean wanting to get off prompts a dare to jerk off and last longer than anyone else at the fire. Gay chaos of a sort ensues.

Boys’ Night: Van der Linde Boys

Fictober Prompt: Day 31, Orgy Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Orgy, threesomes, kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex, blow jobs, rough sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Sean’s drunken mind, marking, viagra-esc tonics, almost everyone is passed around to everyone else, Reader takes both top and bottom roles Summary: Sean has an idea that leads most of the boys in the gang to a damn fun time.

An Omega’s Place (A/B/O)

Pronouns: he/him Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Smut, language, noncon Warnings: Noncon, Alpha Colm O’Driscoll, Omega Kieran Duffy, a/o/o, mating cycles/in heat, scenting, kissing, anal sex, hand jobs, forced mating, forced bond, mentions of breeding Summary: O’Driscolls never have treated their Omegas very well, especially not during a rut.

Caught (A/B/O)

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and some Spanish things that might be masculine-ish Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Alpha Micah Bell, Alpha Javier Esquella, Beta Sean MacGuire, a/a/o, threesome, b/o, mating cycles/in heat, scenting, slurs, kissing, anal sex, hand jobs, mentions of breeding, Spanish pet names, Alphas fighting over an Omega, possessive behavior, admission of feelings, open poly ending Summary: Your heat sets in during a job, causing the Alphas to act aggressive to the point of being unable to control themselves. Sean does his best to help out as a Beta, but it’s not quite enough.

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His Boy, Part 9: Found

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: he/him Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence Warnings: Mentions of dub-con of another chapter, possessive behavior, past relationship, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, shootout Summary: Colm and the boys come to rescue you.

Dutch puts his arm over you as the gunfire picks up. He takes the chance to look around, finding no immediate danger. You push his arm off of you and sit on the ground, your head still pounding and the rest of the pain coming back with it. Dutch peers between a few of the boards that aren’t so close together and just as he turns to you, a voice shouts over everything.

“Dutch Van der Linde!” Colm shouts. “Come on out, Dutch.”

The lantern isn’t anywhere near bright enough to see Dutch’s expression, but you’d bet on anger.

“Unless ya want, uh…” Colm pauses. “Mister Williamson here ta die.”

“Bill…” Dutch mutters. “Damn it.”

“He seemed like a nice guy, Dutch.” You take a deep breath. “Take me out there, let us leave, and never talk to us again.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“Yes, your majesty.” You grunt, trying to stand on weak legs that once again feel the pain Dutch inflicted. “There are people in this gang I still care about and I don’t want hurt, so let’s go.”

“Ya got ten seconds, Dutch!”

He doesn’t move for a few of those precious seconds, then he grabs your arm and pulls you in front of him. You feel his arm tight around your middle and a gun pressed to your head as he kicks the door open and walks. Outside, there are a lot of people. The Van der Lindes are all under cover and most of the O’Driscolls hide in the trees. But Colm, he stands out in the open as if nothing can touch him. It worries you more than anything.

Colm settles a scowl on his face at the sight of you and Dutch. “Hand him over ‘fore I blow this handsome fella’s head off.”

Beside him, Bill struggles against the hold of two large O’Driscoll boys. Danny and Lars. You made a point to know everyone’s name a long time ago, at least to make sure they get labeled graves.

“Nice ta see you, Colm.” Dutch shouts, straining your ear. “Why don’t you boys move on, you’re outgunned here.”

Colm shakes his head. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere without what’s mine.”

Dutch’s arm tightens around you.

“Be reasonable, Dutch.” You huff. “No one has to die tonight. Not you, not Colm, not your boys, no one.”

You can feel his hand shake, the gun against your head wavering. Dutch, for all his smarts, gets stressed easily and bringing up the possible death of his family really hits the bullseye. At least enough for you to throw your head back and, from the sound, break his nose. Shots ring out as you scramble behind something. You don’t care about much now aside from getting Colm and the boys out of here, just hoping there’s minimal shooting in the process.

So you move fast, keeping behind things until you can run around the trees and reach one of the boys. Sam, you think, he’s new. He sees you, recognition thankfully covering his face.

“You have a gun I can use?”

He nods. “Yeah, yeah, boss.”

He hands you a revolver and the weight is comforting after being tied up for days. You can see him a few yards away, ducked behind a rock. Colm’s alive. You wind through the trees until you reach him, not bothering to try and shout over the gunfire.

He grins as he pulls you close. “That was a beautiful sight, sugar.”

You return the smile. “We gotta go, Colm. No point in fighting this out.”

“We could kill Dutch, sweetheart. Make him pay.”

You hold his cheek to make him look at you. “Our boys are no match for his, we need to go. We can always find the son of a bitch again.”

Colm looks at you for a moment before he nods. “Fine, let’s get you safe, sugar.”

He whistles and slowly the boys retreat with you, running off into the trees. Colm grips your hand, leading you to his horse and helping you on. From there the boys split off to keep the path to camp indirect. You keep your arms tight around Colm and his hand settles to hold yours on his stomach as he rides. It’s a long journey, you're not sure when your head leaned against Colm’s back or when your eyes closed, but you fall asleep fast.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x male reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader

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His Boy, Part 1: Reunited

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, dub-con Warnings: Mentions of non-con of another character, dub-con, kidnapping, possessive behavior, possessive sex, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, begging, fisting, anal fingering, anal sex, biting, marking, choking, mentions of past Dutch/Hosea, Dutch/Susan, and Dutch/Annabelle Summary: You’re returned to Dutch after all these years.

The sack over your head is both blinding and uncomfortable. The itchy fabric rubs against your skin in a way that makes you feel the need to shake your head. It was a long ride, now on your feet you can at least struggle. You know the men that hold you, used to be like odd sons to you, John and Arthur. They’re strong boys, able to hold you between them. You’d be proud if you weren’t their captive. When they force you to your knees you know what you’ll see before they even take the bag off.

And there he stands, just as you pictured, Dutch Van der Linde.

He hasn’t changed much over the years and it’s only been a few months since you last saw his face. He’s just as arrogant as he was, just as full of himself, and annoyingly just as handsome. To his right, as usual, is Hosea. He glares at you as he always had. He never thought you were good for Dutch, he told you so. You assumed it was jealousy but after you left it became clear it was regular hatred.

Dutch says your name in a venomous tone, his hands on his hips and his face twisted to show his disgust in seeing you again

“Dutch.” You return, a sting running through your lip from where Arthur busted it.

“Where’d ya find ‘em?” Hosea asks.

John nudges you. “With a bunch a’ Colm’s boys.”

“Lucky we saw ‘em.” Arthur drawls. “Nearly shot ‘em like the rest.”

“Good work, boys.” Dutch steps forward. “I would like to speak to our guest alone now, gentlemen.”

Hosea looks down at you for a moment before he glances at his friend. “Dutch I-”

“Alone.” Dutch emphasizes.

With one more look at you, Hosea ushers his sons away with him. They were always his boys, more than yours and even more than Dutch’s. At best, you got to play the distant step-father. Given the busted lip from Arthur and the pounding headache from John’s abuse, they hardly see you as the father figure you once were. Granted, you have changed a lot since you left Dutch’s bed for Colm’s.

And Dutch knows that. “Been a long time.”

You glare up at him as your knees begin to ache with the pressure from the hard floor of the shack and your wrists start throb from your tight bindings.

“Colm treat you well?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing exactly how to get under your former sweetheart’s skin. “Ask Annabelle.”

His foot connects with your chest before you can blink. The air leaves your lungs and you hit the floor, falling on your side. Still, you manage to keep a smile just to bother the man.

“Keep her name outta your mouth, boy.” He threatens, kneeling down to your level and shoving a finger into your face.

“Why?” You finally catch your breath. “She never stopped saying mine while Colm was having his way, said you told her about me.” You fix a grin onto your face even though you never quite agreed with Colm’s handling of that matter. “Suppose she thought I’d help her.”

Dutch winds his fingers into your hair and pulls you onto your stomach, pressing a knee into your back as he releases his grip. “You let him?”

You groan from the pressure on your ribs. “Colm never touched her like that but his boys sure had-”

Dutch grips your hair again, lifting your head before slamming it into the floor. You gasp and groan as your head pounds in pain. Dutch’s words barely reach your ears.

“What happened to you?”

His hand releases your hair, still resting on your head but with a soft touch instead of a heavy one. You catch your breath, trying to focus on things other than the throbbing of your brain against your skull.

“Got… bored…” You breathe out. “Colm’s a… lot more fun.”

You feel Dutch’s hand leave your head as he shuffles behind you. The sensations are hard to place with the fog that’s come over your mind but the feeling of cool air on your bare skin is hard to miss. Dutch has pulled your pants off. Your mind focuses at the realization, still pounding but now fueled by a need to self-preserve.

“D-Dutch?”

You feel his hands spreading your ass open as he settles back behind you. “Don’t get shy now, darling.”

His thumb, coated in something wet, circles around your hole and you hiss at the feeling. He keeps this going for a while, and knowing Dutch, he’s just enjoying the sight. You fight the urge to move against him despite only wanting him to put his fingers inside of you. The feeling is a ghost in your memory but you’d never fully forget what his fingers felt like.

Then he does it, he stops spreading you open and lets one hand grip your hip while he roughly shoves the fingers of his other hand as deep as he can get them. It’s nearly his full hand and it makes you have to bite your lip not to scream. Your teeth reopen the cut Arthur caused and as Dutch wriggles the rest of his hand inside, blood enters your mouth. His fist is coated in something slick and you’re thankful for that, but he’s stretching you so much that it hardly matters. He’s never done this before but it feels so strangely good.

He leans over you, putting his lips against the shell of your ear. “Colm fuck you like I do?”

When you don’t answer, he moves his hand and you can’t stop the scream that takes your body. It feels so good but so painful and you don’t want it to stop. Tears form in your eyes as he makes a point to roughly fuck you with his fist. His lips attach to your neck while his other hand holds you still, every inch of your body burns with sparks of pain while the pleasure is only in the slight brush of his thumb against your prostate.

Dutch growls against your skin and you have the sense to recall just how marked up Colm likes to keep you. Your neck, your chest, every inch the man can get to while he fucks you is usually covered and even more spaces from when he’s not occupied. This apparently doesn’t sit well with Dutch. He pulls his fist from you as he sits up and you do all you can not to scream again, still not managing to hold back whimpers and pathetic sounding curses that sound nothing like your own voice.

You have a moment of peace and you can only press your head against the cold floor as a comfort. There is not a single memory in your fogged mind of Dutch ever being so rough. The possessive growl, that’s the Dutch you know, but everything else is so far from who you used to share a bed with. It scares you.

So when you feel his hand on your hip again you gather your breath. “Please, Dutch…”

“What’s that, my boy?” Dutch mocks as his hand moves up under your shirt. “Something you’d like ta say?”

The tears in your eyes burn as you try to blink them away. “Please stop… please, Dutch.”

His lips come up to your ear again. “You can do better than that.”

“I can’t take any more, Dutch.”

Dutch’s fingers dig into your skin and you wince. “I know.”

“It’s still me, Dutch.” You sigh, trying to find some way out of this. “I-I’m still that man you-”

Now his nails nip at your skin. “I what?”

“You cared about me, didn’t you, Dutch?” You can breathe again when he moves, no longer feeling any part of him. “I love Colm but-”

Dutch’s hands are on your hips in an instant as he pushes himself into you. The stretch from his fist hardly helps and you can still feel every inch of him as he enters. He presses himself against you, grinding as his balls rest flat on your skin. He leans back over you, kissing your jaw and nipping at your ear.

“You love the bastard.” He growls. “But you think about me when he fucks you, don’t you, my boy?”

You whimper as he presses his hips so hard into your that you can feel the friction of your dick rubbing against the harsh floor. “T-That’s… No.”

His lips spread into a smile against your skin. “You’ve always been mine.” He presses a soft kiss to your neck. “Always will be.”

He doesn’t give any warning, no preparation, he just starts moving his hips at a quick pace. The sound of his heavy breaths fills your ears as he fucks you. You whine from the sensitivity of his rough prepping and it makes him smile against your skin again. He presses kisses with every few thrusts, biting when he adds a bit of a rotation.

“Still think you’re Colm’s?” He mutters in your ear.

“Dutch…” Is all you can manage to get out and it sounds pathetic.

“You left me high and dry.” He says as his free hand reaches up to enclose around your throat despite the odd angle. “Been needin’ ya fer so long.”

“Fuck, Dutch…” You whine, feeling your end coming close from his words. He’s always been good with his words.

“Cum, now.” He orders. “For me.”

You do, your dick twitching beneath you and releasing spurts of warm cum on your shirt, your skin, and the floor. Now Dutch squeezes at your throat as he leans back a bit to fuck you faster. Your head throbs from the blows it’s taken and the new lack of air but you can very much feel Dutch’s ruthless thrusts falter as he fills you up. His hands loosen, both the one on your hip and the one on your throat. But Dutch still holds you so he can grind into you despite his softened dick. You whimper from the overstimulation but you’re very familiar with this possessive little ritual, Dutch always likes to make sure his seed is spread nicely inside of you and he loves to push the excess out around his own dick.

“Don’t matter where you go, my boy.” He says, finally pulling out. “You’re mine.”

You shiver from the cold absence of his body against yours and your legs instinctively fold in as you turn on your side. The pain becomes apparent now, focused in your shoulders from your bound hands and your ass from Dutch’s handling. You can hear the sound of boots, belt buckles, both coming closer until Dutch kneels behind you and his hand rests on your hip again.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He says softly.

You gather everything you have left, every sense of loyalty both as a gang member and a sweetheart. “Colm O’Driscoll.”

Dutch’s hand tightens on your hip and he pulls you so you lay on your back. “Try again, boy.”

“I…” You take a shaky breath. “I never loved you, Dutch.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. “I am one man you can’t lie to, my dear.”

Your words have failed so you gather the saliva in your mouth and spit on Dutch’s face. He wipes it off with a bare hand and reaches down to then clean it off with your shirt.“Think about it then, my dear.” He stands, glaring down at you. “I have all the time in the world.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x male reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader

[allzelemonz]

Shot: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: T/Violence Warnings: Colm is his own warning, Reader is shot, injury, blood, soft Colm, non established relationship, pining Summary: Colm’s boys return from a job, one of them has been shot.

The sight of his boys coming back from a job always brings a bit of a grin to Colm’s face. It means money, drinks, and an increase in reputation. So when he approaches the boys hitching their horses he has a smirk on his face. Then he sees one of them is injured. Not someone insignificant like Billy or Seamus, it’s you. Seamus is pulling you down from his horse carefully, Billy rushing to take your other arm as they carry you towards the medic’s station. Colm can see the blood seeping through your shirt, staining that shade of green he loves so much.

He follows the boys, grabbing Billy by the shirt once you’re laid down for the medic to look at. “What happened?”

Billy looks up at his boss with an experienced terror. Colm spoke very softly, very calmly. He is not the type to yell unless it’s for show. If Colm O’Driscoll is angry, he whispers. Billy tries to recall what happened during the job but it was all so fast. You were on your horse one second, shooting the law, and the next you were on the ground and Seamus was yelling something.

“I, uh-”

Colm’s fist twists into Billy’s shirt, yanking him closer. “That boy dies, you die.”

Billy swallows his nerves and nods quickly. “Yes, boss.”

When Colm releases him, Billy scrambles over to help the medic. Seamus is already crushing some plants to help because he is very well aware of the stakes even without being warned. He has seen the way Colm looks at you, the way his gaze no longer lingers on your arms, your chest, occasionally a bulge in tight pants, but on your face. He knows what even Colm doesn’t fully recognise yet, so he works with haste.

The medic has Billy hold you down while he digs a bullet from your gut. Colm watches intently from the doorway, having to remind himself to blink on occasion. Seamus brings rags to stop the bleeding when the medic drops the bullet and goes to get tonics. You’re barely awake, only able to hear the occasional generic reassurance from Billy as he nervously glances between you and Colm. Seamus makes room for the medic to clean you up and bandage you. Your blood covers his hands, his shirt, the floor as far as he can see, but the medic says you’ll be fine.

Colm steps inside as Seamus runs off to wash the blood from him. Billy stays, soaking up what’s fallen on the floor. The medic sets the tonics in order by your head and with a look from Colm, he pulls Billy with him as he leaves. Colm stands over you. Your shirt has been removed and a few weeks ago that would bring thoughts to Colm’s mind, he might have taken advantage of you. Now, his eyes search your face for pain and he finds himself wincing when you do. So he can’t help but to sit by your bedside.

When you wake there’s not much other than pain. Pain and a warm feeling in your hand. You look down and find a hand gripping yours, so you follow the arm up only to be met with your boss. Colm is asleep, his other hand propping his head up, but his grip is strong and you could never pull your hand away even if you wanted to. Your wound isn’t on your mind anymore, despite the pain. It’s not shocking that you were shot and it hurts, it’s shocking that Colm O’Driscoll fell asleep holding your hand. You lightly squeeze, testing to see if it’s real, and when Colm stirs you know it is.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, meeting your gaze before looking down to your wound. “Ya ain’t leavin’ camp fer a month.”

There’s that soft voice, usually terrifying but somehow comforting when he speaks now. His thumb runs across your knuckles and you can feel your heart skip. Gentleness from Colm is something you’ve never seen. You didn’t know he was capable of it.

“Boss?” You ask, a crack in your voice from the dryness you only now notice.

Colm is silent as he hands you the first tonic in the medic’s line up. He knows it’s a painkiller, he’s taken plenty when he’s been shot. You’ve spent your whole career as an O’Driscoll not questioning orders from Colm, you know better than to refuse anything from him. And even now, with him all tender, you take the bottle without hesitation and drink its contents. He takes the bottle when you’re done, his finger brushing yours and making you feel that skip again.

He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles, sighing. “Ya ain’t tellin’ a soul ‘bout all this.”

You have to take a second to process and find your voice again. “Yes, boss.”

“Colm.” He corrects. “Ya call me Colm when we’re alone, darlin’.”

“Colm.” You try and it feels strange.

Of course you’ve used his name. You’ve sat around the fire with the boys, telling stories and jokes about the boss when he wasn’t around. You’ve complained about him endlessly, the way any other member of the gang has. But here it’s different. Here it’s not just about the name, there’s something special attached to using it while he’s actually able to hear it.

He hums. “That’s it, sugar.”

You squeeze his hand and he smiles, releasing you and standing. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. For a moment, he lingers and you can relish the moment. Then he stands upright and smooths out his vest.

“Not a word, boy.” He warns and you can hear that usual venom again, like turning a lantern back on.

“Not a word.” You repeat.

Colm can’t help the sentimentality of lightly dragging his fingers down your leg as he walks away. He orders the medic to check on you, Seamus to keep an eye on you. For the rest of the day he just tries to forget that you’re hurt and act like himself. He hates that he’s turning into some lovesick dog. He’s never fallen before and he doesn’t know what to do.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

[allzelemonz]

Wolf, Boogeyman: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘handsome’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, noncon Warnings: Rape, noncon, Colm is his own warning, anal fingering, anal sex, masturbation, unwanted climax, forced climax, sex during sleep, somnophilia, sex at gunpoint, kidnapping Summary: A peaceful night turns into a nightmare that will last for the rest of your life, however short that may be.

The night is slow, peaceful. Your small cabin isn’t much, but it’s easy to maintain. The fire burns well, keeping everything warm as you go about your nightly routine. Dinner is cleaned up, the extra candles are out, the door is locked. All the makings of a regular night. So you lay down in bed without much thought, hoping to get a nice sleep for the day of work tomorrow.

But in the trees sit wolves stalking prey.

Three men adorned in long black coats, one in a vest that clearly distinguishes him from his lessers, all with green bandanas covering their faces. They watch as the light leaves the windows, leaving only the dim flickering of a warm fire. A cabin with the possibility of valuables and supplies. Only one occupant, easy to overpower in the dead of night. They wait, like boogeymen, for the perfect moment.

The door’s lock clicks, hardly anything to note over the crackling of the fire. The first O’Driscoll enters, knife drawn, and finds no threat aside from the single sleeping occupant. He waves for the others, and they follow him inside. Each man fans out, looking over things of value. Colm, however, approaches the bed. He is captivated by your sleeping form, enough to rearrange his plan for the night.

“You boys go on.” He says, quietly. “I got better things ta do.”

“Ya need this, boss?” one of the O’Driscolls asks, holding up a familiar looking container.

Colm takes the tin and waves them off. The boys retreat, closing the door behind them. The tin is set down quietly on your bedside table as Colm turns his attention to you. He reaches out and runs his fingers along your cheek, gaining no response. A deep sleep, perfect for Colm’s needs. He slowly pulls the covers from you, revealing more of your body to him. For a moment he lets his eyes wander over every inch as his hand begins to lightly rub at him through his pants. You shuffle, feeling the cold air, but you stay asleep. He enjoys for a moment, content with his own light touch and the curve of your leg.

He hums to himself as his hand runs along your waistband. “Handsome thing, ain’t ya.”

Slowly, he tugs down your pants until he can throw them to the ground. He stands back and peers at your newly exposed skin. Your bare thigh, the curve of your ass, and your soft and completely unaware dick all shooting a drive through him that he has to resist. He wants to drag this out, to admire because you can’t stop him. It won’t be this forever, when he’s had his fill he’ll fuck you to his heart’s content.

But for now he just runs his fingers over your skin as gently as he can while he palms himself through his pants. You shift slightly, raising your leg closer towards your chest as you get comfortable and Colm is given a much better view of what exactly he’ll be fucking. He grabs the tin, figuring he should do this while he has this kind of access. He scoops pomade onto his fingers and sets the container aside again, carefully sitting down on your bed. He circles slowly around you, watching for reactions. When you give none, he pushes a finger inside. Your eyebrows knit, but nothing more, so he continues. He pushes the finger all the way in and crooks it at a slow pace, then he adds another, and another. You squirm, but remain asleep, likey imagining something similar in your dreams as he begins to really stretch you out. Then you make a noise and Colm freezes. Your eyes are screwed, mouth partially open. A moan, a mindless moan from his fingers slowly moving within you. He smiles to himself as he continues his work.

When he’s happy with the slight slack your muscles give he removes his fingers and collects more pomade into his hand. He gazes at your once more peaceful face as he lazily strokes the slick substance onto his dick. You look sweet, he decides, innocent, so he’ll fuck you real slow. He hasn’t decided if he wants to kill you after he’s done. That depends on how much he enjoys you, if you wake up, if you cause him any trouble. For now he simply finds a place behind you and grips your hip as he slowly pushes inside. His preparations make everything smooth and slick, he glides all the way down to the hilt. For a moment he stays and strokes his thumb over your waist as he takes in the scent of your hair. You smell nice to him, nice enough to hook his mind on maybe keeping you alive so he can enjoy it again. He rolls his hips, only moving within you slightly to gauge your reaction. Nothing, so he continues. He pulls out slowly, then slides back it, repeating at a cautious pace. As he builds, moving a little faster, you groan and Colm just knows, so he stops.

He takes his gun from his holster and holds it to your head. “Keep still now, boy.”

You shutter as the metal presses to your scalp, cold and unfamiliar. Even worse, your dream is explained as you register the situation. The man holding a gun to your head fills you to the brim, your own dick has grown hard as a rock, and nothing feels exceptionally painful. The sudden change in your heart rate alarms you and you try to take a deep breath to settle it but it doesn’t help at all.

“Wouldn’t wanna stain these nice pillahs red.” He says, dragging the gun down to poke at your rib cage. “I’m gonna have my fun, best if ya go back ta sleep now.”

“Please…” Is all you can manage without the threat of tears falling.

He sighs. “Ain’t nothin’ ya can do, sugar. Just lie still and take it, hmm?”

The gun presses hard into your ribs and you take a shaky breath. “Okay, mister.”

Colm hooks his arm around you so he can hold you in place and point the gun towards your face. He starts a faster pace, no longer able to take his time with you now awake and aware. He enjoys the light sob that escapes as he hits a nice spot deep inside. His focus is on fucking you, bringing on his end, but he’d like to watch you cum from this twisted meeting. With every thrust he feels that coil burning. He grips you tight, bucking erratically as he fills you. You can feel part of it, the skip in his thrusts and his groan makes you let out a sob again. At least it’s over.

Colm puts his gun back to your head. “Go on, boy. Your turn.”

“What?” You ask, voice shaky and uneven.

“I wanna watch ya cum, sugar.” He drawls, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “Fer me.”

The cool metal on your skin compels you to reach down and grip yourself. The hardness that shouldn’t be, it feels strange to hold, like it’s not your own.

“Good boy. Go on now.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to forget the gun to your head. You imagine you’re somewhere else, somewhere nice with a kind man. Your thumb spreads the precum over the tip and you start a quick pace, just hoping to end this as soon as possible. He watches over your shoulder, relishing the sight. Your strokes make you cum fast, but not nearly as fast as you would have liked. You can feel his lips sucking a mark into your neck as you come down from the slight high.

“Ya sit real still now.” He whispers. “Don’t want no trouble from ya, boy.”

You shutter as he slides out, a slight relief coming over you. He takes the time to tuck himself away, then he shuffles out of bed and stands in front of you with his gun pointed loosely. His eyes look over the stain your cum made and he smirks, looking up to your tear stained face. An image far too nice to end, too fun to leave.

“Come on, boy. Get up, get yer pants.” He instructs.

You don’t move for a second, but you jump up when he clicks the hammer back on his gun. You scramble, grabbing your pants where the man threw them and pulling them on.

“Yer gonna make a fun little toy, sugar.” He muses. “Come on now, no trouble.”

“Please, mister.” You say, the same tremor in your body infecting your voice. “You had your fun didn’t you?”

“And I’m gonna have more.” He tilts the gun to gesture to the door. “Go on.”

“Sir-”

“Walk yerself or I’ll make it a little harder.”

When you don’t move he fires his gun, a bullet landing in the wood of the floor a few inches from your feet. You scramble, making your way to the door as he follows close behind. He grips your shoulder and presses the gun to your spine. There is no escape from the wolf, the boogeyman, Colm O’Driscoll.

#tw r@pe #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

[allzelemonz]

Blame, Consequence: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, dubcon Warnings: Dubious consent, O’Driscolls are their own warning, Reader is an O’Driscoll, power dynamics, power imbalance, manipulation, humiliation, cock shaming, exhibitionism, public sex, performance sex, oral sex, face fucking, praise Summary: You take the fall for a mistake made on a job, Colm feels like punishing you a bit differently than usual.

It’s Tommy’s fault. Most things are really. The man is an idiot, always has been and always will be. But Colm doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, and trusting the wrong man is a big mistake. So when the law came early and Tommy was clearly to blame due to his reckless way of handling the job, Colm blamed the first man he saw. The ride back to camp was fast, quiet, and full of tension. Everyone can feel it, they just don’t know who Colm will take it out on yet. There’s three of you aside from Tommy and Colm himself, all of you are equally likely targets. As you hitch the horses the three of you share a look, knowing two of you are probably going to have to hold the other while Colm beats them.

You just so happened to be the first man he sees.

“Declan, Billy.” Colm calls. “Bring your friend along.”

Billy follows the order, taking your arm.  Declan gives you a sympathetic look first, but takes your other arm. The fear comes over you as they walk you into camp, you can’t help it. You’ve Colm do awful things to his own men, ones like you that have never crossed him or done a thing wrong. He tortures them anyway. They bring you to the middle of camp, just a few yards from the main fire, where Colm stands waiting patiently.

“Take his gun belt, Billy.” Colm instructs.

His voice is an eerie calm, his demeanor even more so. Colm isn’t really the type to yell, just the type to speak quietly and creepy before he kills without mercy. Billy carefully takes your weapons from you and looks to Colm for further instructions. Billy’s always been loyal, all three of you have, yet you’ve all taken beatings for nothing.

“You gonna behave yourself, boy?” Colm asks you.

You take a shaky breath, putting on a brave face. “Yes, boss.”

Colm waves Billy and Declan away, leaving you alone in the middle of a large circle of O’Driscolls. He doesn’t do this often, beat one of his men so publicly, but you’ve seen it before. You’re usually on the sides, watching the poor soul, but now it’s you. Colm’s eyes cut into you and it feels like your chest might cave in, all the eyes on you makes it much worse. Last time you took the fall for someone else's mistake Colm just beat you on the spot. Only Declan was there to see and it was just a few hits. You have the feeling this will be worse.

“Strip for me, boy.”

Colm’s order hangs in the air, far from what you expected. He’s beaten men to death, cut so far he hits bone, left men out to freeze overnight, but this is a first.

“Boss?” You ask, face twisting in confusion.

“Go on.” Colm nods, his hands resting on his gun belt as he stares holes into you.

You try to collect yourself, stay strong through whatever he has planned. You have no context for this. He’s taken a man’s shirt before so he could cut at his chest, but he’s never outright ordered a man to strip in front of the whole gang. His eyes stay fixed on you with a heavy stare as you bring your hands to the buttons of your shirt. He watches through the whole process and you try not to think about where you are. As the chilly air hits your skin, it’s hard to deny that you’re here, bare and exposed.

Colm hums, walking towards you. “You fellas think he’s impressive?”

You unconsciously try to cover yourself at the comment. A few shouts and whistles come from the gang, compliments and insults alike.

“Don’t be shy, boy.” Colm says as he stops about a foot away from you. “Not everybody can have somethin’ ta swing around. Somebody’s gotta be tiny.”

A heat comes over you and you can’t quite place if it’s embarrassment or rage. This is the punishment, calling your dick small? Like some twisted childhood bully. The beatings are starting to seem like the better option. Colm comes closer, his eyes raking your body in a way that makes you shiver more than the cold. He moves fast, harshly gripping your dick in his hand and holding it tight. Whispers from the gang fly around in your head as you try not to wince from the pain.

“I expected a little more.” Colm squeezes harder, pulling slightly. “This is just disappointin’.” 

You don’t move, don’t react if you can help it. If you resist, you’re well aware you’ll die. But when you feel that ache, that growing feeling, you feel like death may be preferable.

Colm hums lowly. “Ya like this, boy?” His hand loosens a bit and he pumps you once, enough to make the ache worse. “Never took ya fer the type.”

“Boss, please.” You whisper, the air in your lungs running thin.

“Oh.” Colm chuckles. “I like that. Go on, boy, beg.”

You wince as he grips you tightly and tugs hard enough to pull you forward an inch. “Please.”

“Way I see it, boy, I got two options.” Colm whispers, a wicked smile on his face. “I can deal with ya here and you can spend the night in the cold or ya can impress me.”

“Impress you?”

“I beat ya.” Colm says, tugging at your dick again. “And I leave ya out here ta freeze or ya get on yer knees, show me what a loyal man ya are and ya can come warm my bed fer the night.”

You consider the options. You’ve been beaten my Colm before, left out in the cold too, but you have an option this time. Suck off your boss in front of the gang and you get to be in a warm tent with a nice bed. Sleeping with Colm might not be so bad. He’s relatively easy on the eyes, strong, suave. Maybe he’d like you, remember you and not blame you for someone else’s mistakes again.

“I’ll do whatever you want, boss.” You say, voice shaky.

Colms hums, releasing his hold on you. “Go on then. Impress me.”

You sink to your knees and try to ignore the calls and whistles from the gang. It occurs to you that you may never hear the end of this. Everyone you see on a daily basis is watching, including those you half-way consider friends. They’ll talk about this forever, call you a whore and a million other names, but it’s too late now. You look up and meet Colm’s piercing eyes as they cut all the way to your soul, bringing a guttural feeling of fear to you.

So you focus on the task your boss has given you. Impress him. You unfasten his pants and pull out his surprisingly hard dick. He’s enjoyed this, watching you squirm and making you submit. Of course he got off on it. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum and earning a slight hiss from your boss. You’re not sure if it’s reassuring or frightening, knowing he wants this and that he’s enjoying it. You swallow the nerves and ignore your own aching need as you lick a slow stripe up the underside before taking him in your mouth.

Your ears fill with comments from the crowd, whistles, a few calling you a whore, obscenities you’d rather not think about. You try to focus as you take as much of your boss as you can, fitting your hands around what you can’t fit. Colm is long, real long. Slowly, as your heart beats out of your chest, you begin to bob your head. Colm’s hand grips at your hair and you try not to think about anything but getting the job done, making him unravel hard and in record time.

Spit begins to trickle down to your chin as you pick up the pace. But before you can do much, Colm puts his other hand in your hair and takes your control away. His fingers grip tight and it stings as he starts to use you. You let your hands fall to your side, submitting like you’re sure Colm wants. He fucks your face at a punishing pace as the gang whistles and jeers. You have to put everything you have into controlling your gag reflex as Colm’s long dick slides in and out at a harsh pace. Keeping your eyes closed, you try to be what Colm wants, a submissive warm mouth for him to punish. You can’t feel your own ache anymore, there’s too much pain in your jaw and throat to feel much pleasure from this. When he releases, it’s without warning, fast, and sudden. For an older guy, it’s impressive that he used you as long as he did and it’s even more impressive that his stream of seed seems never ending as it goes down your throat. Even when he pulls out, it’s still strong and he aims it to cover your skin. The feeling of the sticky cum landing over your face, neck, and chest is unpleasant given your context, but you sit and let Colm do what he wants.

You blink your eyes open slowly, thankful what landed on your face is restricted to your chin. Colm fastens his pants, looking down at you darkly. The surrounding gang murmurs, all wondering if Colm’s done with you. Some of them want to go to bed and be done with it, others want to see more.

Colm grunts as he squats in front of you and takes your chin in his hand, looking over his work. “Such a pretty boy, ain’t ya?”

You try to hold his gaze, not wanting to seem weak, but it’s so heavy and cutting that you have to look down. His grip on your chin doesn’t make things easier as it accentuates the pain in your jaw.

“You been real good, boy.” Colm hums. “Real good.”

You shutter a bit at his words. “T-thanks, boss.”

His hand grips your face, making an unflattering squish of your skin. “Good with a gun, pretty on yer knees, I ain’t sure which I like more.”

He releases your face and holds his hand in front of your mouth, a bit of his cum having rubbed onto it from his hold on you. You glance between his hand and his face, reading what he wants before you carefully lick the cum away. Colm smiles, tilting his head as he watches you.

“You.” He groans, deep in the back of his throat. “Are gonna keep my bed warm fer a long time, darlin’. How’s that sound? My own little whore.”

Your heart races, a mix of fear and the lingering excitement that still aches, hard against your stomach. “Whatever you want, boss. I’ll, uh, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Colm grins, sickly and twisted. “Ain’t ya sweet. Loyal little thing.”

He offers you a hand and you take it, allowing him to pull you up. The surrounding gang is quiet now, waiting for Colm’s next orders. He snaps his fingers in Billy’s direction, holding his hand out for your gun belt. Billy scrambles towards him, handing it over and returning to his spot in the crowd as quickly as he can. Colm runs his hands over your belt, the thing that shows your status as a gunslinger along with the O’Driscoll green mask lying with your clothes in the dirt a few feet away.

“We’re done here!” Colm shouts to the gang and they disburse without question as he holds out your belt to you. “Get yer things, darlin’. You got a long night ahead a’ ya.”

His grin sends a shiver up your spine. He turns towards his tent, taking his time to saunter. You gather your clothes from the ground, not bothering to dress because you know Colm will only make you remove them when you arrive at his tent. You still have that ache, burning now, and you wonder if Colm will give you any attention or if he’ll just fuck you for his own end. There’s no telling given his unpredictable nature so far tonight. You clutch your mess of clothes close and you walk to the boss’s tent, hoping for the best.

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[allzelemonz]

His Boy, Part 8: War

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Language Warnings: Fluff, cuddling, kissing, neck kissing, hugs, mentions of murder Summary: Back when Colm and Dutch were the most hell bent on killing each other, Colm still had time to be sweet.

You’ve lost more men than you can keep track of, Van der Lindes appearing at every job and cutting the boys down like they’re nothing. Colm shouldn’t have taken Annabelle. It got his brother killed, it’s getting the boys killed, it’ll end up getting all of you killed. But you had to bring all the boys to the main camp, keep everyone safe and get things organized, so money is low. The few skilled guns you have are spread far too thin and figuring out how to get supplies is difficult when Colm wants them all going after the Van der Lindes.

Tommy points to a town on the map. “Ain’t been in that one.”

“Doesn’t mean they won’t be.” You mutter. “Dutch doesn’t leave things out when he’s this mad.”

“You’d know all about it, wouldn’t ya?”

You look up from the map to glare at the man. “I do. Fucking a man gives you quite an insight into how they think, Tommy.”

He leans forward, hands resting on the table. “That what yer doin’ with the boss, whore?”

“Licked his boots yet today, asshole?”

“That’s enough, fellers.” Colm chides, taking slow steps into the cabin. “We got enough problems without all this whinin’.”

Tommy stands up straight. “Sorry, boss.”

“Suck up.” You mutter.

“Get out, Tommy.” Colm orders.

With a glare to you, Tommy leaves. Colm shuts the door behind him and locks it.

“You find Dutch yet?” He asks, coming to wrap his arms around you from behind and look over your shoulder at the map.

You lean into his touch. “Somewhere South of that little train town, that’s all we figured out.”

Colm hums, pressing his lips to your neck. “Take a break with me, sugar. Yer workin’ too hard.”

You sigh. “You want him dead, don’t you?”

Colm sighs heavier. “I’d rather sleep, ‘s been a few days since I got ta hold ya.”

“I’d rather kill Dutch first.”

“We’ll find ‘em, make ‘em pay fer all that ‘n more.” Colm pulls you back with him, away from the table. “After I hold ya a bit.”

You smile despite the nagging need to work, Colm doesn’t have a lot of time to be sweet and you need to savor it. “Fine, fine, sweetheart.”

He hums, pulling you with him. “Good boy.”

“Stop it, Colm.” You say halfheartedly, a heat rising to your face.

“What, sugar?” He smiles, sitting down on the bed. You stand between his legs as he takes your hands and looks up at you. “Yer good ta me.”

You lean down to kiss him. “You deserve it.”

“Ya know I don’t.” He mumbles. “Love ya, even so.”

“Love you too, I’m no saint either.”

He smiles, pulling you along as he lies down. “You, sweetheart, are an angel as far as I’m concerned.”

You wrap your arms snugly around him as he settles against your chest. “Sleep, Colm. You’re delirious.”

“Wish I were, sugar.” He mumbles, voice half full of sleep.

You watch him for a while, stroking his hair and playing with the hand that he has gripping onto your shirt.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x male reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader

[allzelemonz]

His Boy, Part 7: Ten

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/Language, dub-con mentions Warnings: Mentions of dub-con, possessive behavior, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, mentions of past Dutch/Hosea and Dutch/Susan Summary: Dutch comes to see you again.

You’ve had the chance to rest your back against something for a while, settle your bones that are getting too strained from imprisonment. Feeling the need to stretch your legs, you walk in circles for a bit. Boredom is worse at this point. This time the door opens with the light of a lantern, enveloping Dutch in its glow as he enters and closes the door. You stay where you are, leaning against the back wall and watching your former partner as he sets the lantern down.

“Hosea…” He says, sitting down on a stool. “Is quite upset with me.”

“That’s not exactly new, Dutch.”

“He is under the impression that our encounter had a lack of consent.”

“It did.”

He sighs and you can’t see his face in the low light but you would bet that he looks annoyed. “Didn’t feel that way, my dear.”

“I asked you to stop, you didn’t stop.”

“Did you really want me to?”

You scoff. “Besides the point.”

He chuckles. “I’ll ask then… May I fuck you senseless, my dear?”

“No.”

“We both know you don’t want to be Colm’s whore-”

“I’m not.” You laugh. “He asks, he stops, he treats me much better than you ever did.”

He stands. “I find that quite hard to believe.”

You cross your arms, both in apprehension and as a bit of a comfort from Dutch’s darkened figure that shoots a bit of fear into you. “Why do you want me back so bad, Dutch? Can’t find some poor young thing to twist around your finger?”

“I loved you for ten years.” He says your name so gently it almost takes you back to when you cared. “Can I not love you again?”

“Have the whores in town grown too old for you, Dutch?” You snap. “I’ll bet you’ve already struck out with Hosea and Susan if you’re this deep into your silver tongue delusions.”

He sighs. “You have truly changed, my boy.”

“I see you for what you are.”

For a moment he doesn’t move and all you can hear is the breathing of you both in the dark. Then, before you can register the shadow move, Dutch is on you. He presses you hard against the wall, your head hitting it from the unexpected push.

“And that is a damn shame.” He whispers against your ear. “Colm really has gotten to you, here I was hoping I could be gentle.”

You groan as your head pulses in pain. “You know something, Dutch?”

“What, boy?”

“Colm didn’t even fuck me for months, he treated me all sweet and soft. You never did that.”

“I was plenty sweet.”

“You acted sweet, you never meant it.” You grunt as you struggle against him. “This is plenty proof.”

Again, he stills and goes quiet. His hands keep their pressure and this time you can feel the breathing as well as hear it. Dutch’s mind is a wonder and you would give anything to not have to deal with it anymore. Colm is so much simpler. He’s a plotter, sure, but he tells you things. He likes to hold you close at night and whisper about the jobs he’s planning after he’s run out of praises and sweet things to say or take a ride with you to ask your opinion. You’re a lieutenant if not an equal instead of an unutilized gun that wastes away in a fancy tent.

“You want me back, Dutch?” You sigh. “Act like there’s something more than fucking between us, like you’ll bend before you break.”

His hands drop to your hips and his head droops to rest on your chest. “Tell me what to do, my dear.”

“Apologize.”

His hands tighten a bit and you can tell he’s annoyed. “For what?”

“Just say you’re sorry without lying for once.”

Again, he pauses and you don’t want to imagine the philosophies swimming around in his mind as he decides if he should. “I…” He brings his head up to look at you. “I am sorry.”

You don’t believe him but you let it pass.

“Why did you go after whores while we were together?”

His hands loosen on your hips as they run up and down in short, slow strokes. “I suppose I was afraid.”

“Bullshit, Dutch.”

His hands grip tight again and he looks up. “You’re the one that said you were bored.”

“I was trying to get a rise out of you, Dutch.”

He chuckles a bit. “It worked.”

“The whores, Dutch.” You sigh. “I was right there. You could’ve asked me to do anything and I would have done it.”

“And now?” He asks, his thumbs stroking at your stomach.

“Now I am willing to be civil, willing to get Colm to be civil, but I’m not so blinded by your beauty anymore to take anything you say as truth.”

He sighs. “You think so lowly of me?”

The sound of a gunshot makes you both duck.

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