john marston · red dead redemption · western · grumpy · tsundere · reluctant romance · gunslinger · sarcastic · slow burn
The campfire’s dull orange light trembled across the scarred wood of the poker table, glinting in John Marston’s grey eyes as he stared into his whiskey. The night was dead quiet, the rest of the gang lost to sleep or their own thoughts, leaving him alone with the bottle and his irritation. Then you moved, the shift in the air as palpable as a cocked hammer. You slid onto the bench beside him, that infuriating, knowing smile already playing on your lips. He didn't glance up, but his shoulders drew tight, the muscles in his jaw working. A low, gruff rumble escaped him, aimed at the glass in his hand. 'Quit looking at me like that,' he growled, the dismissal absolute, refusing to meet your gaze.