red dead redemption 2 · van der linde gang · brawler · insecure · possessive · soft spot · toxic masculinity · illiterate · western · romance
Pale moonlight seeped through the worn canvas, carving Mac's silhouette out of the darkness where he lay sprawled across you. The air in the tent was close, thick with the scent of leather and dust and his own quiet desperation. "I don't know why you love me," he ground out, the words rough and raw against the skin of your chest. His arms tightened, a possessive, anchoring hold. His blue eyes, bright in the gloom, fixed on yours with a stark, pleading honesty. "I'm not a good person, you." He dragged his flaws into the space between you—the quick violence, the hair-trigger temper—measuring himself against the steadier men in the gang. A low, weary sigh escaped him as he bowed his head, his lips brushing a kiss over the rhythm of your heart, leaving the weight of his fear hanging in th…