#charles smith x gender neutral reader

[scarfacemarston]

Something to add to your fanfics!

[ghostking4m]

Male readers exist

So this is mostly for the hockey and sports world writers, I don’t mean to be mean or make anyone uncomfortable when I say this, but male readers exist too. Believe i’ve tried writing for male readers, but, I don’t have the talent or even time and energy to write for male readers at my current stage in life. I just want to request that more writers for the sports world, particularly hockey, F1, american football, maybe even just specific athletes. I’ve seen that some writers are including more gender neutral and male readers to their work, but when all you see is straight girls getting every piece of writing, it really sucks and makes us feel pretty shitty

[nexionswild]

IN WHICH MANEATER!reader admits their feelings for the van der linde boys. [p.2] [p.1]

includes: charles ∿ lenny ∿ sean ∿ bill

content warning: fluff, a little angsty in bill’s part, no pronouns [GN]

a/n: i think half of them are so ooc nd im so sorry omdgshjq i’m still trying to figure out how to write for lenny and sean but i promise i’ll get better with time 🦾

✦ ﹒ charles smith

you caught him off guard, that's for sure..

charles is used to being perceived as intimidating and scary, considering his origins and his size, but that's what you like about him.

he never noticed how you'd stare lovingly whenever he'd explain his cultural way of hunting down animals or practice some other things.

and you never noticed how much he had to turn his head away when he saw you flirting men according to dutch's plan. but charles have dignity, and would admit to have found himself jealous every time you'd coo love words out of those pretty lips of yours.

probably needs time to acknowledge that you're dead serious about this relationship, and really looking forward to it. he's not against it tho, he's just.. surprised.

be ready because those massive hands of his are never leaving your waist the moment he gracefully accepts your confession. like never ever. and he doesn't have any shame either, and maybe he'll refrain from being too much of a sweetie in camp for your sake, given you can be easily embarassed if he surprise you with his loving demeanour, but he won't hold back as soon as the gang members are away.

"my mother taught me all the ways to treat a lover.. i hope it'll meet your expectations."

unfiltered romantic. it makes you blush how much he says the most romantic thing out of pocket and pretend like that never happened.

your name is the only thing that comes out of his mouth every now and then, you know because arthur keeps mentioning how much charles talks about you as if you were the only beautiful thing that's plaguing his mind.

✦ ﹒ lenny summers

lenny is so flustered, i'm sorry, god, he's baby

he probably stammered like a fool after you confessed, why wouldn't he? you're perfect, so perfect and he's just some kid, trying to be a big bad outlaw. perhaps that's what you like about him. he's nervous like a little kitty, and lord knows how much nervous men makes your day.

"i- i.. ahem.. yes, yes, of course!"

you made him so embarassed, i hope you're proud of yourself.

he'll struggle telling you how jealous he felt, it didn't really struck his mind first before you even confessed, i mean, sure he did think you were charming, but he never really bat an eye at your work.

he only got feelings because you were fun to listen to, you didn’t notice how he’d watch you every time you went on your drunken rants. it’s only recently that you found out according to karen.

for most of the part, lenny would rely on you. i mean you can’t blame him, you’re popular. in a way, you are, you’re like dutch. you have a lot of contacts, and charisma, he’s been a bystander. he’s pretty awkward, he doesn’t know what to do, but you find it cute, somehow.

of course, he’ll start to man up eventually when he feels more confident by the time you’ve shown him what you’re most comfortable with in terms of love languages, and he easily adapts himself to it. i mean, he absolutely loves spending time with you, and the amount of patience you put in for him really melts his heart in a way, but he’ll never admit it. ever.

depending on what you’re most comfortable with, lenny would gladly ride all the way to saint-denis for the simple wish of getting you something expensive, or even bring you along with him so you get to choose what you want. something he didn’t expect to see is you using your flirtatious ways of getting an item for free.

“you really know how to fool a man.. please don’t make a fool out of me.”

✦ ﹒ sean macguire

“ha! i knew ya’d fall for me!”

absolutely did not know you’d fall for him.

sean likes to be confident, at least he likes to appear confident. but often mix things up with arrogance, and if you were to call him out on that, he would tone it down a little. he doesn’t mean to be rude to you, he’s genuinely happy, he just doesn’t know how to properly express it.

sean have a loud mouth, and he didn’t hide the fact that he was getting irritated when men were attracted to you, often times he’d be barked at by arthur or john for fucking up your plan for being jealous. he never understood it, he thought he was being a gentleman chasing those creeps away.

he’s a comedian, on accident. you don’t know how to describe it but there’s something really sweet in seeing him ramble to the point where he’s humorous like that. you guess that’s how you fell for him. sean is so honest. and so dumb, too.

what you most love, is when he gets drunk. that’s where he starts to be overwhelmingly affectionate. and the gang teases you about it, but you couldn’t care less. he’s adorable that way! why would you make fun of something as precious as his honesty? especially when he’s slurring on his words, too?

he’s not a charmer with words, and he knows it. that’s why the best he could do to prove his love is by teasing or joking around with you, he’s trying his best.

“these english men keeps bullyin’ ya… just tell me! i’ll shoot ‘em right between thei’ eyes, yeah?”

he wants to look strong and fearless for you, he wants to impress you in every way he can. sometimes, you’d see him getting angry about the fact that he lost something, wether i’d be a fist fight or a game, but the moment he sees you, he gets embarrassed.

you’re the only one who can reassure him that what he failed to achieve doesn’t matter much, the effort is more important.

✦ ﹒ bill williamson

doesn’t believe you. at all.

bill was always made fun of, or teased by others to get a rise out of him. and he doesn’t believe you, because he thinks it’s just another way to make him mad. but he can’t help and think how evil this is, using you, someone he truly admire, to pick on him?

when you insist that you’re not joking, bill starts to get angry. not at you, but it’s just the way he is, he’s trying his best but he’s still in doubt.

given your reputation with men, and how many times he have to ignore you on duty, he just think it’s purely for the entertainment of seeing him falling like a fool. williamson is someone who’s not joking around, and that you know.

“if you love me, why would you?” he snaps. then immediately regrets. he doesn’t wanna lash it out on you, and he’d drink himself to death if he’s actually convinced that you love him that way.

he wants to apologize, but no words are leaving his mouth. and there’s an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders by this point, but when you take your time and explain to him the reason behind your fondness, he softens up a tad.

you had the patience to deal with him, surely you were serious?

“fine. i believe you. but i’m warning you, if this is some sick joke, i’ll—… i’ll…”

he won’t do anything.

for the past few weeks, you’ve been awfully affectionate towards him to prove your point. and he complains about it, tho he secretly enjoy having your full undivided attention. every time dutch planned to take him for a mission, you’ve been prepping his saddle and equipments, and when he came back, you’ve welcome him back with your arms open.

and while you were acting like some kind of stay-at-home spouse, bill would be silently protective over you. when you have to talk to men and women and fake another of your identity to wrap them around your finger, bill would silently sit at a table nearby and watch carefully, making sure no one lays a finger on you.

and when you thank him for his care through kisses, all you hear are grumbling noises and a little “you’re welcome”.

he’s just an angry worked up man, but you love him for it. (surprisingly!)

[orchid-and-bone]

"Silver Lining" ||

Charles Smith x GN!Reader

Rating: None

Length: 2.5k

A/N: I had the idea run in my head after a friend told me about it storming where they live, which a little fic popped into my brain, and I do have an idea for a second part if anyone shows interest~

But I adore Charles and think he deserves the world. This is my first time ever writing for him, so I hope I did some justice!

Summary: You were separated from your father while on a business run, and now you're stranded with no way home and soaked from the raging storm. A stranger approaches you and offers his hand, and when you take it, you find a new friend.

The only thing that made today even worse was the steady rumble of the storm that was rolling in toward your direction. Of course, why wouldn't it start storming soon? You felt the chill of the air hit your skin, the leaves in the trees slowly began to wave gently, and then their dance became panicked. The clouds ahead rolled in, deep, grey, and heavy. You tried to find shelter quickly before you felt the gentle, cold raindrops begin to fall, but there was none around for miles, and you had no clue. 

You'd run for a cluster of trees and figured that the grouping of leaves and branches would save you somehow, which was true for the moment, but as soon as the heavier clouds slowly made their way overhead, you knew you were doomed. Your entire outfit was soaked, the jacket you had that was draped over your head barely kept the water from getting into your face, it just dripped right through the fabric. You let out a frustrated groan as the rain hid your tears, but you wiped them away angrily and figured you'd just wait till the storm passed. 

If the thought of asking strangers for help didn't terrify you, you would have been waving your arms frantically so you could have been seen sooner, but you remained hidden among the trees for now. You figured you could wait it out and see what would happen from there, only problem was that it wasn't letting up. 

Over an hour passed and you were feeling as miserable as a wet cat in a burlap sack, and there had barely been anyone on the roads to flag down in the first place. You sniffled and wished that you weren't so nervous, you felt defeated.

What you didn't hear was the sound of hoofbeats approaching, the thunder drowned that out completely, instead, you had your arms wrapped around your legs as you lowered your head, wishing the rain would stop just for a little while. 

The man on his horse rode as fast as he could to try and get back to his camp, he had been just caught out in the storm coming back from an errand he had to run for Dutch, so if he timed it right, he could get back before it really got too unbearable. His horse, Taima, was sprinting fast since she didn't want to be out in this weather either, the man couldn't blame her. He was almost so set on getting back that he barely saw you, a brief blur in his peripheral, but he managed to spot you.

He pulled on Taima's reigns and she chuffed in response, wondering why they were both slowing down, but she trotted where she was needed. The horse trotted right up to you as you shivered from the cold, and you looked up in curiosity. 

“Are you alright?” The man asked you, looking down with wet hair plastered to his face. He was large, bulky, like he could punch a man once and he'd be out of commission for a week. “Are you hurt?” 

You looked up from him and stared for a second, wondering if it was your imagination conjuring a savior of some kind or if it truly was someone there to save you. “Hello, I uh, I’m cold… and lost.”

The man then hopped down from his horse and crouched under the leaves with you, checking to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. “Hmm. You seem unhurt, so that's good. Where do you stay? I could give you a ride back.”

You're shivering as you look up at him, wondering how far you'd gotten from home. “I live near Emerald Station on Emerald Ranch, you know where it is?”

“That's quite a ride from here, how'd you end up all the way out here?” 

You looked ashamed, but he didn't press any further, instead, he reached for your hand. “Come on, I'll get you home, okay?” 

You just smiled up at him and nodded, then grabbed his hand. He was so warm despite the rain still pouring down, and you wished you could retain some of the heat he was giving off, it felt wonderful. He assisted you onto his horse, but instead of sitting on the back, he made sure to sit you in the front, that way his arms could envelop you and give you some of his body heat. 

“I hope you don't mind, this way you can keep some warmth,” he explained as he settled in on the saddle. 

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it didn't matter, the heat was the most important. You clung to his arms and snuggled back against his chest, shaking like mad as you braced yourself for the ride. “This will work, thank you,” you sighed in contentment, already feeling safer with this man as your teeth chattered.

“I'm Charles,” he said as he snapped the reigns of his horse, and now you were on your way back home.

It was embarrassing really, how you ended up all the way out here on your own, far from Emerald Ranch. You and your father had taken a long ride out for a business venture just outside of Rhodes, and of course, you wandered a tad too far from the wagon, interested in the beautiful nature that surrounded you. When you had been far too invested in following a small group of foxes, there was a commotion and gunfire, so you ran. Of course, you ran, you wanted to stay safe. You heard your father shouting for you to hide, all you heard was his voice and gunfire. 

You wished he was okay…

The sharp cold from the rain began to sting as soon as you felt the sliver of warmth from Charles, but you tried not to let it affect you too much, you just had to hope that you would be home and your father would be alright. You were so lost in thought that you weren’t sure if the man had spoken at all or if you had been imagining it, but when he cleared his throat, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Did…you say something? I’m sorry, I was thinking…” you explained timidly.

The man looked down at you ever so slightly to check on you, and you caught a glimpse of the scar that adorned his cheek, but you said nothing about it aloud. You were curious how he got it, but you had no place to ask such things, nor would you have that courage. “I was just asking you if you were hurt at all, or if you could remember what happened.”

“Oh, um, I got lost, separated from my father. I don’t know if he’s alive…” Saying it out loud made it too real, you wanted to cry with how your entire body felt as if you were riding waves. 

Charles continued to ride down the path, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary or Lemoyne Raiders, which had become a larger problem as of late. “Well, do you remember how you got separated?” He asked you, hoping you could give him something to work with so he could help, considering he could track fairly well. 

Your eyes darted down and watched as his hands held onto the reigns, you committed the lines, the scars, and the contours by memory as you sat there between the horse and his chest. “I think… something happened with his business proposal he had with some men, maybe some bounty hunters or gang members… I dunno, I wandered off and got separated before I heard the gunshots.”

Charles listened and continued to guide Taima, finally crossing into New Hanover territory, but there was still quite a ways to go, and the rain was slowly but surely mellowing as you both continued to ride. Maybe asking you what happened wasn’t such a great idea, despite wanting to reunite you with your father, maybe you required more of a distraction than recalling painful memories. 

“Emerald Ranch is a nice open area, you lived there long?” 

You were thankful for the topic change as you wiped away the tears and rain that fell against your face. “Yeah, my whole life so far, it’s quiet mostly, never really get a lot of nonsense there. I get to watch the deer and wild horses a lot,” you said as you took in the scenery around you. Despite the circumstances, you thought that it was a beautiful area.

A small smile played at his lips. “So you like nature, I'm assuming?”

“Mhm, watching the wild horses is my favorite thing when I get to sit alone in the fields, it's peaceful.”

“I like nature as well, I track a lot of animals and you get to see all sorts of creatures and places you never really expect.”

“How far have you been here, you know, in the country?” 

“Well, Colter has been the coldest and farthest up I've been, the mountains are no joke.” 

You thought of how beautiful the snow looked across the mountains, wondering just how cold it was out there, and just what types of animals inhabited the snowy hills. “That is pretty far,” you pointed out with a small smile.

Charles nodded and made a content hum, wondering if he should tell you about the interesting creatures he saw while he was stranded in the mountains mere months ago, but he had wondered if this conversation was stimulating enough for you, that is until you spoke up again. 

“What kind of animals are up there? I heard there’s a rare bison that’s seen around there, its fur is pure white.” You had heard stories around the states that there were legendary, rare animals that were scattered all around, most of their coats being a pure snowy white or a rare pattern.

Charles was impressed with your knowledge of things surrounding that nature, but he was also interested in spotting some of the rare creatures on his own time. “I  believe you’re right, I have a friend who goes hunting regularly to help feed our camp, and he says there are rare animals scattered across the states.”

Your eyes brightened at the mention of it and wondered just how many there were out in the world, you were curious to know if there were even any nearby, so maybe once you were home safe and sound, you could ask around. The silence between you two wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest, but you felt that he was a man who didn’t say much, kept his cards close, which you didn’t mind. You weren’t exactly dissimilar to the man who saved you, always feeling that your feelings and thoughts shouldn’t be overshared, you never knew who would use that against you. 

You could finally see the outskirts of the ranch as you rode closer, your chest tightened, hoping you could see your father's wagon, but maybe he’d gotten home some other way. Or what if he wasn’t home at all? What if something-

“We’re just about there,” Charles said, snapping you out of your daze. “Which house is it? I’ll make sure you get there.” He slowed Taima down to a trot as he entered the grounds of the ranch, and you pointed.

“There, that larger house in the center, to the right.” You were still in his arms now, wondering if you’d get home to your worried mother, already seeing her face brighten when she laid her eyes upon you, but that smile faded when your father was nowhere in sight. What would you tell her? HOW could you tell her? 

Charles stopped his horse and he patted your shoulder gently, then grabbed your hand as you slowly hopped down. He then proceeded to jump down beside you and wrap an arm around your shoulders, walking you straight up to the door. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked in his gentle tone, looking over at you with an unreadable expression. 

When you froze at the door, not reaching for the handle, you looked up at him with worry etched into your features. “I’m not sure… I don’t know if my father is here, or alive for that matter…”

“I can keep a look out-”

The door swung open, revealing your disheveled father looking like a sopping wet cat, but his face conveyed all the love in the world when you stood there. “Oh, sweetheart! You’re alive! I can’t believe what happened, oh-” Your father threw his arms around you and almost sobbed against you.

You stood there in complete surprise, but that heaviness lifted as soon as you realized this wasn’t a cruel trick. Your arms wrapped around your father and squeezed so tight that you thought he’d pop. “Dad, I… I thought something happened…” You sighed in relief and then looked back at Charles, who was beginning to walk away. You pulled away from your father and reached out, touching Charles’s shoulder. “Wait.”

He turned to look at you and offered a quizzical look. “Are you alright?”

“Well, er, yes, but please,” you began as you began to dig through your pocket, then you pulled out a few crumpled bills that were soaked. “Er, sorry, but please, this is all I have and I want you to have this.”

Charles shook his head with a small smile. “No, that’s quite alright, you keep it.” He grabbed your hand and curled your fingers back around the bills, his large hand encasing yours. 

“But, I insist you take it for the trouble.”

He just smiled a little wider. “Trust me, it was no trouble at all. You stay safe, okay?” He placed a hand gently on your shoulder to express how much he appreciated your kindness. 

He was kind, and selfless, and could have probably used the cash to help himself. Instead, he just refused it and just wanted to see you safe. In a moment of weakness, you did the same as you did with your father and hugged the larger man, thankful that he came to your rescue. You smiled as you squeezed him, and slowly but surely, his arms wrapped around you and he stroked your shoulders gently.

You told him your name and your smile only grew. “Can I see you again?” You asked him with a sudden urgency, hoping to repay his kindness later on. 

“Thank you, Charles…”

“You’re welcome, oh, I never caught your name.” He pulled away and looked down at you, your eyes shining with happiness as you flashed him a smile. 

He was taken aback by this question, unsure of how to really answer, mostly because he never knew what would happen with Dutch and the camp, he didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. But when Charles looked down at you and you just looked at him so fervently that it was as if he couldn’t say no, even if he wanted to.

“Of course, I would like that very much.” 

[vanderlesbian]

rdr2 x autistic reader headcanons

saw someone else do this but i wanted to give my headcanons too! enjoy tehe... includes arthur, john, dutch, and charles!

gn!reader + no warnings / fluff

arthur morgan

arthur is so patient and understanding with you

from the moment you met him, you never felt the need to mask around him because he never questioned your behaviors or belittled you for them

if any problems ever arised, arthur would always be quick to come to your defense

hes very careful with you; he handles you like he's holding a butterly. not because he thinks youre fragile or incapable, but because he cares for you too much and never wants to hurt you

he also knows that youre sensitive to things and will take mental notes

if he sees that you cover your ears when something loud happens, he'll be sure to be quiet around you

if you express that you don't like how a certain food feels, he'll start bringing other options along to make sure you're eating

he's not very good at being upfront with his emotions, and you can't always catch onto his hints which ends up with you being confused

but he's trying to break that habit

all in all he's a very understanding partner who prioritizes you above all

john marston

lets be real john is also autistic

youre both very understanding of each others needs and its nice to be able to completely be yourself around your partner

in a relationship he can be very touchy sometimes, but he can recognize when you dont want to be touched. if hes unsure, he'll ask

he will wait or ask for permission to do pretty much anything

"can i kiss you?" "can i hug you?" "is it alright if we hold hands?"

hes definitely awkward but he just needs the confirmation

he is veryyy blunt but to you its a good thing

it makes me feel like neither of you have to worry about if the other is beating around the bush or something because both of you say whats on your mind LOL

both of you are trying to figure out this relationship thing together

from an outside perspective, people might think the two of you are moving really slow, but for both of you its a perfect pace

dutch van der linde

dutch is your biggest fan when you start infodumping

he will listen to you speak about whatever for days on end, and you'll do the same with him as he talks about whatever philosophical tangent he has for the day

hes so infatuated with you its crazy

you will finish your infodumping tangent and he will scoop you up in his arms and go,"you're so beautiful/handsome, you know that?"

like oookaaayyy huhehehehehhehhshsh

he will SPOIL you with things related to your special interest. anything he sees that he knows you'll like, he'll snatch it up so quick to give it to you

he'll definitely boast about you to the other members

"they're so INTELLIGENT and HARD WORKING...perhaps the rest of you should take a note or two"

he lets you fidget with his fingers because you like his rings

he makes sure that your shared tent is perfectly up to your standards

the feeling of the blanket overwhelms you? suddenly hes sending arthur out to fetch a new one

he definitely pampers you a lot and sometimes it might feel suffocating at times but not bc you dislike it, you just need a moment to recharge

you'll tell him you need a moment to yourself and he'll oblige

charles smith

the two of you love parallel play omg

you two will be completely silent while he makes arrows and you partake in one of your hobbies but its so comforting to both of you

charles will always be the first to notice when you start to get overstimulated, so he'll tell the others to quiet down, give you space, or whatever else you need to calm yourself

hes kind of overprotective of you, so sometimes you'll have to reassure him that youre fine

he just cares about you more than anything

now that im thinking about it charles is also probably autistic

he's usually very quiet but with you he'll never shut up because he knows that you'll listen and show genuine interest

he will craft things for you to fidget with omfg

he'll notice that youre very antsy with your hands or legs and one day you'll come back to your tent and see a small handmade doll sitting on your bed

"did you make this for me?"

"i noticed you play with your fingers a lot"

he's genuinely the sweetest ever and he will just have heart eyes for you all the time

[softrozene]

Doing the little romantic things for their s/o

Anon asked: Welcome to the rdr2 community!! May I get some fluff hc for Arthur Charles and John? Them just doing the little romantic things for their s/o? Thank you ♥️

rdr2 masterlist

Omg yes and thank you! I hope you like these, anon!

These are probably on the shorter side since it’s the first request and first time writing them!

Originally published on January 10, 2020

Arthur, Charles, John x Reader (Gender-neutral/nonbinary)

Warnings: Just Fluff

Arthur Morgan

-

Romance isn’t his strongest suit but when he tries it is so dang obvious to everyone

He goes out of his way to make sure you know how much you mean to him

You get extra servings off his own plate

If you feel like someone is watching you- It’s him and he will do it straight-on, no shame at all

Sends you that small charming smile that makes your knees all weak

He’d be the doting wife everyone hears about

I’m not kidding either, he’ll act like he’s not or that something you want is a hassle but don’t worry, he’ll get it for you

He’d be the one to oil your guns without you asking

If you’re the type that needs to hear it, he’ll say he loves you

If not, it should be said all through his actions

Since he’s not one well for words- all the little things will be through awkward but sweet, sweet, gestures and materials

Charles Smith-

The motherfucking King of romance

He likes to be near his partner at all times

Even if he’s one for silence he’ll love to listen to your voice

He’s the hand-holder, he’ll want to hold your hand all the time

He doesn’t keep his eye on you all the time but it surely relaxes him whenever he sees you

He’ll pick flowers and plants for you first thing in the morning

Looks after your horse when you can’t

1000% takes you on nature rides just to be in your presence in peace

If you don’t know how to hunt he’ll teach you the basics and watch as you grow to be a better hunter

He doesn’t go to sleep until you do

He’ll always be willing to teach you or learn from you

Since he’s already a hard worker around camp, he’ll try and do your chores too

Will always profess his love before missions

John Marston-

He probably has some kind of PTSD from his relationship with Abigail ngl so he’ll be more like Arthur

He’s not sure what to do or how to act like but he’ll always keep an eye out for you

Makes sure you are stocked with ammo/knives just to be on the safe side

Gets you only the best jewelry/watches he manages to steal

He is not good with words so he’ll relay his love to you through actions

Always cracks a joke with you- especially if he knows it’s not your day

If you ask him for something poor boy would probably ask a million questions out of habit with Abigail but he’ll get it for you in a heartbeat

Use a gentle tone with him- He’ll be so soft and gentle with you

Most of his affection will be shown while you’re asleep, he’ll play with your hair, caress your face, make sure you aren’t too cold or too hot- It’s just easier for him

[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 5/17/24

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

[ccghastly]

Van Der Linde boys (include Arthur please and the rest is up to you!!) x reader who can't ride a horse, what do you think about that? Whenever I reader fics from rdr2 I'm like "damn, this ain't me" cause I was riding a horse once in my life 😭 thank you!!

Van der Linde fellas with a S/O that can't ride (a horse)

GN Reader

Arthur, Charles, Hosea, & Bill

Misread the prompt and thought this was 'reader asks for riding lessons', so the most of the fills lean in that direction.

I take requests! Feel free to ask!

Arthur:

Tries so damn hard to be helpful, but he's really really not.

He's been riding a horse for longer than he's been walking, it's all muscle memory and he's horrible at trying to get it into usable words.

Prepare for a lot of, "You kinda just…" "No, uh, you gotta lean with it" "Steer with your hips" "No, not like that" "... That's… Almost better?"

You're frustrated, he's frustrated.

"I'm real sorry, Darlin'. I ain't got no clue how to make any of this make any kinda sense."

If you stick with it you'll probably get there, but you probably would've made the same progress without Arthur's help.

Arthur later gets you a horse that's so incredibly far from wild it could be a nursemaid in its next life and you're happy to accompany him on his little journeys around the countryside. It's exciting to experience his strange encounters in person, rather than as funny stories he brings to the fireside.

Charles:

A more patient teacher you couldn't hope to find.

He starts you with horse care. Brushing, picking hooves, tack maintenance, feeding, feeling for injuries. Just getting you used to being around horses.

He's very keen on posture and being as helpful and kind to the horse as a rider possibly can be.

Taima is a sweetheart throughout, long pauses for explanations are immediately grazing breaks, but she listens when you try to ask her to do something.

You make great progress and are riding with some confidence by the end of the month, following Charles and Taima for short trips out of camp on your own borrowed horse.

Eventually you get your own horse and it becomes common practice for you to follow Charles on any of his outings, just to keep him company. You get surprisingly good at reading while your horse follows Taima.

Hosea:

Strange techniques, but he's too enthusiastic to turn him down.

You didn't even ask him to teach you, just mentioned in passing that you didn't know how to and you were suddenly penciled in for lessons.

Unsaddles Silver Dollar to make room and has you ride in front of him as he guides the horse.

"Just get a feel for the horse, Dove. Feel how I move with him."

Silver Dollar is confused by the many many circles he's asked to make, but as long as there peppermints at the end of it, he's happy.

Hosea's teaching style is dubiously helpful, but you do eventually learn how to sit a horse.

Once you're comfortable steering your own horse there are many long strolls to 'scout the area' and 'look for game', that usually end with cuddling up in front of a pretty view.

Bill:

Feels guilty about it, but kind of likes that you can't ride on your own.

Enjoys being useful and likes being able to help you like this.

Really likes that you don't ask anyone else to take you where you need to go, always asking him with such sweet manners, if when he has a free moment if he could please take you into town please

Yes. The answer is always Yes. Immediately Yes. As soon as he's physically capable of making it happen.

"Just gimme two shakes, Honey. I gotta ask Sean to take the rest of my shift, the layabout owes me a few."

Also really really likes lifting you onto and off of Brown Jack. If you wanna make this man light up, give him a kiss while he does it.

It's a very badly hidden secret that he enjoys getting to act like a gentleman and take care of you, so this is right up his alley.

[roseghoul26]

Charles Smith x gn!Reader

"Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 'Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.' He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. 'Yeah?' You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low." Synopsis: A brush with hypothermia forces you and Charles to camp out in an abandoned cabin. Having to resort to some more intimate means of survival, will you be able to keep your feelings in check for the hunter, or will the proximity force you to confess?

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hypothermia, Huddling for Warmth, yes this is a cuddle for warmth fic, idc if its cheesy, Oral Sex, Gender-Neutral Reader, Fem Anatomy for Reader, Face-Sitting, Love Confessions, but in a twist its not the reader who gets frozen, surprise!

Author's Note: listened to chappell roan the entire time while writing this (hence the title). i also got so distracted by stardew valley my addiction has returned also, there’s a moment where the reader touches charles’ hair. as a non-indigenous person, i’m not fully educated when it comes to hair and the importance it holds in native american culture. i did research, but i could still be wrong. if i have made any errors, please let me know, and i will change it. 

If you never had to see snow again, you’d die happy. 

Tightening the fur coat around your body, you tried to preserve what heat you had left in you. The cold air of Colter was like a leech, sucking you dry of any warmth and joy. And it wasn’t just affecting you, you noticed. Glancing around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, with as many furs and clothes on their bodies as they huddled around the laughably small fire. 

The gang had been in Colter for about a week, hiding away from the law after the disaster that was Blackwater. You don’t remember much from that day, most of it a blur in your memories, but you remember the bloodshed. Pointless, ruthless bloodshed. You hoped you’d never see something like that again. 

Shivering, you almost regretted giving your extra jacket to Abigail, who had wrapped it around Jack. You were only feet from the fire, but it might as well have been hundreds of miles away with the way it was doing nothing to warm you. With a huff, you rubbed your fingers together, simply sitting and passing the time until someone asked you to do something or you had to go back on guard duty. That was all you could do, really, the snow and remote location making it impossible for you to do your normal robbing and thieving. 

There were many times during this week that you’d debated leaving the gang after you all made it out of Colter. You’d only joined about a year and a half ago, Dutch personally inviting you to his group after hearing about your notoriety across the states. Sure, it was nice to have a group like this, but this wasn’t what you signed up for, especially the events at Blackwater. You were promised opportunity and freedom, not brutality and hiding and cold-blooded murder. You wondered, would it be easy to slip away?

Sighing, you slumped forward, and your  legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor. You were on the precipice of coming to a decision, but there were still some things preventing you from taking the leap. You’d become somewhat close with the members of the gang, your lone wolf attitude dissipating as you created bonds with the others. It was easy to get along with Arthur, the two of you becoming fast friends, frequently doing jobs together. You spent most nights chatting with the girls in camp, chatting until late in the night. You respected Hosea, and even Dutch for some time, the recent events shattering that respect for him. To some degree you’d created a connection with each member of the camp, keeping you tethered to one place. 

There was one person in particular, however, that kept pushing those thoughts of leaving out of your mind. Charles Smith, the taciturn hunter that you’d become weirdly fond of these past few months. You’re not sure what you’d call your relationship with the man. The two of you were friendly, maybe even friends. When Dutch sent you out on jobs together, it always ended well, working together quite decently, if you’d say so yourself. 

Still, you wished you were closer with him, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You found it hard to try and initiate conversation with him, never quite knowing what to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a fool. And when you would talk to him, it felt like you were just talking at him, but if he was annoyed by you, he never showed. He’d just politely nod along, adding a few words here and there. 

But you knew he didn’t dislike you, finding him frequently looking at you around camp, just silently observing. Whenever you’d catch him, he’d just give you a polite smile, before turning away to do something else. Every time he did it, you found yourself grow bashful, your heart skipping in your chest. His starting was certainly not helping the infatuation you had with him.

Yes, your stupid heart had fallen for him, making it hurt to even entertain the idea of leaving. It was ridiculous and irresponsible to have feelings for him, and you knew that. They’d been there since he joined, and you figured that they would’ve gone away by now, but that was months ago. You’d never met a man like him before, someone so strong and fearsome, yet honorable and kind at the exact same time, and you figured that’s why you were so drawn to him.

Arthur knew about your feelings for the man, drunkley telling him during a night out at the bar in Blackwater a few months ago. He almost said something to Charles, who was somewhere in the same bar that night, claiming that ‘this life is unpredictable’ and ‘you gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late’, but you quickly shut that down with a swift kick to the shins. But that didn’t mean he stopped asking you if you’d done anything yet, and each time you’d respond with ‘no’. 

You knew that Charles didn’t think of you that way. You’re unpredictable, reckless, fiery, everything opposite of what Charles is. Where you were chaos, he was calm. Fire, water. And you didn’t want to ruin what relationship you had with him, so you kept your mouth shut (and never got too drunk around him).

A gust of sharp cold wind and the creak of a door broke you from your thoughts, a shiver wracking your body as you turned to see who just entered the cabin. In some cruel timing from the universe, the man who had just been haunting your mind walked in, a fresh dusting of snow hitting the ground as he shook out his jacket. A chorus of greetings came from the group collected around the fire, a gentle smile coming from you before you turned back to face the fire. Charles calling out your name had you slowly turning to him again. 

“Will you go hunting with me? The deer me and Arthur caught didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.” You now noticed the bow in his hand, along with a small quiver of arrows.

“I mean, sure,” you stood up, your cold muscles aching as you stretched, “but I ain’t much of a hunter, ya know. I usually end up scarin’ away animals instead of catchin’ ‘em. The others might be more well-suited for this.”

“But I’m asking you. And I can’t exactly do it myself.” Charles held the bow and arrows out for you to grab. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Not like I could ever say no to you, you thought as you took the weapon and slung it over your shoulder, and secured the quiver on your hip. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, Charles opened the door, holding it open to let you step outside into the harsh Colter weather. Wincing at the bright light bouncing off the white snow, you were temporarily blinded as you made your way to where your horses were, Charles not far behind you. A light snowfall came down around you as you walked, not terrible visibility wise, but enough to be obvious. You just hoped that it wouldn’t pick up later. 

There was probably a good foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground, making your movement sluggish and awkward. From what little you knew about tracking, though, it meant that it would be easy to pick up an animal's track, so for that you were somewhat grateful. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your horses, and you went to mount up, only to notice that your horse just wasn’t there. Spinning around, you looked to see if maybe she got unhitched and wandered somewhere nearby, but there was nothing. Whistling, you waited a few moments, seeing if you’d hear the sound of hoofbeats and winnings, but there was nothing. She was just gone.

As Charles mounted, looking equally as confused as you were, you turned and  looked to see who was currently on guard duty, thinking maybe they had seen something. “Javier!” You called out, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. “Where’s Hera?”

“Arthur took her!” He shouted back, and you couldn’t help groaning in annoyance. I’m gonna kill you, Arthur Morgan. 

“And you let him?” Javier had made his way over to you now, and you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you stopped him with a wave. “Nevermind, it’s not your fault or your responsibility. I’m just… frustrated.” You took a deep breath, and a cloud left your lips as you exhaled.  “Where’d Arthur go?” You heard the ground crunch behind you as Charles approached on Taima. 

“I dunno,” Javier shrugged. “Him, Dutch, Micah, and Bill went out a few minutes ago, he’s been borrowing everyone else’s horse since his died. Guess it was Hera’s turn.”

“Well, shit,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t reckon they’ll be back soon, right? Maybe they forgot somethin’?” You missed the way Charles let out an amused huff, your back facing him as you conversed with Javier. 

Javier lightly chuckled. “Look, if you need to go, I’ll let you use Boaz for a bit. It’s not like I’ll be needing him for a bit,” he gestured to the repeater currently in his hands. “If anything happens to him though…” he threatened, gesturing again to the weapon in his hands.

You were about to respond, but Charles beat you to it. “Or you could ride with me. If you’d like.”

You tried to keep your face neutral as you turned to respond, but you had to stop and glare at Javier who was sniggering. Apparently your facial expressions weren’t as subtle as you believed. Thank God you had your back turned, then. 

You turned again, and when you weren't so rudely interrupted by Javier’s childish antics, you responded to Charles. “Are you sure?”

He extended his non-injured hand to you as he nodded. “We gotta get moving though. Only a few hours of sunlight left.”

“Alright.” You linked your hand with his, letting him help you on to the back of his horse with ease. Javier had long since left, already halfway back to his guard post, not before giving you a knowing smile. As you wrapped your hands around his waist, you tried and failed to keep your breathing even, your heartrate picking up substantially. 

Sighing, you refrained from resting your head against his back. This was pure torture, but you knew you were going to enjoy it.

Thank you, Arthur Morgan… I’m still gonna kill you, though. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

He wasn’t quite sure why he offered to let you ride with him on Taima; he was just making it harder for himself to stay away from you. He scolded himself, because someone else had your heart, and he would just end up hurting his own if he kept doing things like this. 

The two of you had sped out of Colter, Charles setting a brisk pace that made the air bite at his skin. The pain was good, as it distracted him from thinking of you. You, who subconsciously shifted closer to him to shield yourself from the air. He felt you adjust behind him until his larger frame was shielding you entirely. 

He expected you to have started talking by now, making some comment about the weather or cursing Arthur out. When you didn’t he felt himself start to grow a bit panicked. Did I make you uncomfortable? Is this too much?

He kept his voice steady, and he gently called out your name. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I figure that must come as a relief.” 

I could listen to you for hours, he thought. I don’t ever want to stop hearing your voice. “Are you alright?”

He felt you shift behind him, your hands tightening where they sat on his waist. Your touch wasn’t even improper, yet he still found his breath hitching in his throat. Charles just prayed that the howling winds around the two of you drowned it out. “I think so. It just… this place is really terrible.” When he nodded in agreement, you continued. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. Blackwater, the gang, my future… It's a little bit overwhelming.”

“Do you…  want to talk about it?” He offered, and you sighed. 

“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Blackwater, ‘bout everything we did wrong, what we should’ve done differently, the choices we made. But I especially can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout that girl that Dutch murdered. The way he killed her, no mercy or falter, I ain’t even seen nothin’ like that from him before. Or maybe I chose to look away before…” you trailed off.

“You’re not the one who pulled the trigger. Dutch is the only person guilty of that.”

“Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’m sure as hell ain’t innocent. I could’ve- should’ve done somethin’. There was plenty of time for me to.”

“Don’t go beating yourself up about the past. The only thing we can hope to do is learn from it and continue on towards the future.”

“But the future is just as terrifying as the past! I’m scared for the gang, for its future. We’ve become so bloodthirsty, and now all Dutch talks about is revenge.” Your voice was becoming more and more distressed. “Is that what we’ve turned into? A bunch of no-good killers who think with their guns? I ain’t- I don’t wanna be that. That ain’t what I joined up for.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d noticed that shift in the gang over the last few weeks, the members become quicker to jump to violence and bloodshed. He wasn’t a saint, the blood on his hands equal to yours, but he was even becoming disturbed by the amount of unnecessary killings happening. 

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout leaving.” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were ashamed to say it. Charles stilled, shock running through his system. “Once we get out of here. This… this isn’t what I wanna do. I don’t wanna be associated with the Van Der Linde gang if it’s gonna continue heaidn’ in the direction it’s goin’. And I don’t wanna find myself at the end of a lawman’s barrel, noose ‘round my neck.”

“Oh.” Charles found himself at an impasse; did he just keep his mouth shut, or say something that might reveal too much? If you truly wanted to leave, then he didn’t want to guilt you into staying by revealing his true feelings. He understood why you wanted to leave, those same thoughts frequenting his mind as well, but he’d found a reason to stay: you. He hadn't told Arthur that when he asked why Charles was still hanging around a few days ago. His conversation with the other man when they hunted had solidified his stay with the gang, for better or for worse.

Did you feel the same way? You fool, Charles chastised himself. They don’t want you that way.

“Does anyone else know?” 

“No,” you sighed. “You’re the only one.”

A selfish part of him was glad that he was the only one that knew, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Well,” he began, “the only thing I can say is to not do something that you’ll regret… and just know that there’s a lot of people here that will really miss you if you decide to leave.” I will miss you so much that it hurts.

He felt your head connect with his back as you slumped forward, and he jolted at the contact. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me, Charles? I trust your judgment.”

Stay. Please, stay, he screamed in his head. “I can’t tell you what to do, how to live your life. Unfortunately, the decision comes to you,” was his reply. 

“You’re right. You’re always right, Charles,” you laughed half-heartedly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Still got a ways until I have to.”

“Whatever decision you come to, I’ll support you.” Liar. “Just… don’t leave without saying goodbye, you hear?”

“I promise. Now,” your usual chipperness returned to your voice, “where are we headin’?”

He explained that he was taking the two of you to Lake Isabella, following the Spider Gorge down. The lake had started to melt, meaning animals were more likely to start coming out as the weather warmed. As the two of you rode, you kept close to him, significantly closer than you were when you left. 

Charles pretended not to notice.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

There wasn’t much to look at on the ride down. Everything was white, splashes of black rock breaking up the monotonous landscape, and the occasional tree made itself known. There weren’t any animals, not even a rabbit. It was like you and Charles were the only living souls in the area.

You only spotted a couple of buildings, two of them a small cabin that could house one or two people. One was absolutely destroyed, time and weather causing the ceiling to collapse in, only a skeleton remaining. The other still stood, smoke coming out of the chimney, but you had no idea if the occupants were home or not. 

Taking a mental note of the building, before returning your attention back forward. Charles seemed to be content with just riding in silence, so you settled against him, your head nearly resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to spill so much to Charles, and you certainly hadn’t meant to tell him that you thought about leaving. It’s just that you felt so comfortable with him that you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you felt ten pounds lighter because of it. 

You didn’t want to drag another person into your troubles, especially over something so trivial in comparison to what the rest of the gang was going through. A part of you wanted this to be the moment in all those cheesy romances you read where the love interest confesses their feelings in order to make the main character stay. But this was real life, and this was Charles you were talking about, the man who would put everyone’s needs before his, even if it hurt. And besides, Charles had never done or said anything that gave you the impression that he had feelings for you. From what you could tell, he saw you as a friend, and nothing else.

Right?

God, you were so desperate for the man you held on to. 

He made no comment when you did actually rest your head on his shoulder. If he did ask why, you’d just say you were cold. You knew you just wanted to pretend that he was yours. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. It did little to calm your erratic heart. 

Eventually, the partially frozen Lake Isabella came into view. This area wasn’t too unfamiliar to either you or Charles, having been there a few days prior to dispatch a group of O’Driscolls. Having opened your eyes a few moments prior, you were able to make out a few deer drinking from the newly exposed lake water. You gestured to them, but Charles had already seen them, bringing Taima to a halt behind a large bush.

By this time, the snow had begun to pick up, the sheets coming down obscuring your view ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough to force you indoors. 

Dismounting as quietly as you could, you readied the bow in your hands, letting Charles lead the way as he snuck closer to them. It was almost supernatural, the way he was able to move so silently. For someone of his stature, you’d never expect him to be able to move so quietly and with such ease, yet here he was. You tried your best to move like him, taking a bit longer as you followed in his footsteps. Charles led you around the edge of the lake, the shore edge mere inches from your feet, occasionally splashing against your shoes. 

Luckily, the deer hadn’t noticed either you or Charles, still drinking without a care in the world. He had stopped by now, moving to the side to let you move ahead. The deer were in range by now, and you only needed to move a few feet closer, making you halt underneath a large tree. The branches drooped under the weight of the snow, a few globs falling off and hitting the ground around you. 

Weirdly enough, you felt at peace. Not because of the hunting, but because of the man who stood a few yards behind you. You felt safe under his gaze, like nothing could hurt you. As you drew the arrow back, you let out a confused noise as the deer suddenly scattered, spooked by something you couldn’t see. 

You turned to look back at Charles, but you realized then that you probably shouldn't've had your guard down so much. A large weight dropped on you from the tree, too heavy and too warm to be just snow. You let out a startled cry, blocking out Charles shouting out your name, panic seeping into his voice. 

Whatever fell on you landed on your back, your face pressed in the snow as you lay on your stomach. It clicked now that there was someone on you, a hand yanking your head back by your hair, warm breath assaulting your face as your attacker spoke. You couldn’t quite make out what exactly he was saying, snow and shock causing your hearing to be spotty. All you were able to make out were a few curses, the word “kill” multiple times, and some racist phrases aimed toward Charles.

Even before the initial shock had worn off, you were fighting back, squirming and moving desperately against the man’s grip. He just laughed, then you heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He rested the barrel against the back of your neck, the cold metal pressing against the exposed skin. Dread washed over you, numbing your senses far beyond what the cold could do. With the way the man gripped your head, you couldn’t move it, and you strained your eyes as you looked around, desperate to find Charles. Is he alright? Please, let him be alright. 

You saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as the weight was on you, it was gone. An alarmed yell left your attacker as he was tackled off of you, being pushed a fair distance before falling onto the frozen Lake Isabella. Rolling over, your hand fell into the cold water, and you quickly pulled it back.

Standing as quickly as you could, the world spun for a moment, your body confused with the many different orientations you were just in. Pressing your back against the tree for stability, you watched as Charles and your attacker rolled far across the ice. You saw the distinct green handkerchief around his neck, and you couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left you. No matter where you went or what you did, you couldn’t escape the O’Driscolls. 

Shouts from behind you had you spinning around, quickly drawing your revolver, the bow long since discarded on the ground. Three more O’Driscolls came running from the woods, only a few yards away from you now, their cries of alarm coming from the two bodies of their members lying in the snow, which you had just noticed. Keeping your aim steady, you took three shots, the gunshots cracking through the still air. The first one hit right in the heart, the second one finding a home between his eyes, and the third one hit the final O’Driscoll right above the shoulder, merely grazing the skin, and the only non-fatal shot. Still, it caused all three of them to hit the snow.

With the final man falling relatively close to you, you ran over to him. Pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt, you held your revolver right below his chin, the hot metal burning his skin. He could not have been more than eighteen years old, a sliver of childhood innocence still left in his eyes as he stared up at you, fear and pain rendering him mute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snarled, pressing the barrel harder into his skin. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, boy?”

Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, a few tears leaving him as he stared at you blankly. He was shaking, and you wondered how long he’d run with the O’Driscolls for. He was obviously young, and if this was his reaction to being held at gunpoint, you gathered that he didn’t have a whole lot of outlaw experience under his belt. Against every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you felt yourself loosen your grip on the boy, a pang of sympathy running through you. 

Sighing in exasperation, you holster your gun, a relieved noise leaving him as you did. Glancing forward, you saw two horses hitched to the trees, seemingly the rides that they came in on. “Go,” you waved. “You ain’t even grown.”

“Th-thank you!” He nearly wept, getting to his feet shakily. 

“But if I ever see ya again, especially as a damn O’Driscoll,” your hand hovered above your weapon. “I’ll not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. You hear me?”

“Y-yes.” He clutched at his shoulder. 

“Now go!” you shouted. “Get outta here! Before I change my mind.” As soon as he sped off toward the horses, you turned back toward the lake. Charles stood above your attacker, beating the life out of the man, his face pure crimson. He was using his injured hand, but he paid it no mind. Blow after blow, Charles’s strikes hit true, the thuds echoing across the water.

You really should not have found it as attractive as you did. 

You let yourself watch for a few moments longer, before you were snapping out of it. “Charles!” You called out. Immediately, he was looking up at you, the man below him no longer even on his mind. Wiping away a smear of blood on his cheek, he slowly made his way toward you, his steps slow across the ice. 

Concern etched across his features as his eyes raked over your body, looking for any injury or hurt on you. “Are you alright?” You asked, trying your best to push down the flush of your cheeks as he stalked towards you. He had an almost murderous glint in his eye, his movement predatory; you especially should not have found that attractive. 

“Did he hurt you?” He completely brushed off your question, his eyes wide with panic. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this disheveled and worried before. 

“Only my pride.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but was promptly cut off when the ground beneath him gave way, the weakened ice no longer strong enough to hold him. Immediately, he was submerged under the water, but luckily he was close enough to the shore that it wasn’t too deep. He reemerged seconds later, sputtering and coughing. 

As soon as you heard the crack of the ice, you were running toward the edge, stepping precariously on the ice. In retrospect, it wasn’t the smartest idea, especially when you started walking towards where Charles fell through, but at the time you didn’t care. All that mattered was getting him out. 

Scanning around, you quickly assessed the best way to save him. The hole that was created was way big enough so he could get his arm up, but as soon as he pressed at the ice it shattered, unable to hold anything. As you stepped closer, you felt it begin to break as well, and you quickly moved back to the shore. 

“Fuck…” your hands went to you head, your gloved fingers pulling at your hair. A large stick from the tree you assaulted jumped down from sparked an idea. Grabbing it, you started chipping away at the ice, smashing and breaking it until a path big enough for Charles to go through was created. Standing at the shore, however, you realized  that neither your arms or the stick was long enough to reach the man, who was starting to get dragged down from the weight of the water in his clothes. 

Quickly unhooking your lasso from your belt, you created a loop for him to grab on to, throwing it at him with an accuracy from years and years of practice. It landed right in front of him, and he grabbed on to it as quickly as he could, his movement sluggish. Wrapping it around your hands, you began to pull him to shore. “Hold on!” you shouted at him, and he let out a noise in response. You’d take that over nothing.

It wasn’t incredibly hard to pull him closer, the water helping carry him over. But once he got to the shore, and you discarded the rope, pulling him up onto the land proved to be almost impossible. Grabbing underneath his arms, you pulled with all the strength you had, the muscles in your back and shoulders crying out in pain, but you paid them no mind. It took an incredible amount of effort, but eventually he was fully out of the water, laying splayed out in the cold snow. 

You didn’t let yourself get a moment to recover, instantly running over to his side. Turning his head toward you, you let out a sigh of relief when you say his eyes flutter open. He was absolutely drenched, his heavy winter gear made even heavier with water, and you watched him begin to shake and his teeth begin to shatter. And, if your luck wasn’t already terrible enough, a full on snowstorm had started, causing cold blasts of snow and wind to pelt your bodies. Chalres shivered even harder, and you let out helped sit him upright. “We gotta get you indoors, and soon. You ain’t gonna-” a lump formed in your throat at the thought. “It ain’t gonna be good for you if you stay out here. I’ll need your help, though. I can’t lift you on my own. Just… just find what energy you can to get up. Please.” You couldn’t help the panic in your voice. To say you were scared would be an understatement. 

You’re not quite sure he fully comprehended what you said, but he started to get up, and you forced him to lean a bit of his body weight against you as he did so. When he was up, you slung his arm over your shoulder, nearly sagging under his weight as he nearly collapsed. You called for Taima, whistlin the same pattern you’d heard Charles use for her. 

Within seconds, the sound of neighing and hoofbeats filled your ears, his loyal steed coming to a halt right in front of the two of you. She let out a worried snort, and you reassured her with some soothing noises. “Alright, Charles. Here comes the worst part.” It took quite a bit of maneuvering and effort, but after a minute Charles sat where you did on the ride there. 

His eyes, which were onced unfocused and confused, had regained some clarity to them, and you heard him mutter out your name. You smiled as reassuringly as you could, before you were mounting up on Taima, sitting in the saddle and the reins in your hands. “Hold on, darlin’.” You were too panicked to notice the name slip out, and you took the gasp from Charles as being from the cold. 

With little urging, Taima moved forward, almost immediately breaking into a gallop. You led her back up the trail, heading toward the cabin you saw on the way down. It would take too long to return back to Colter, and with the way the storm raged around you, you doubted either of you would be able to make it. 

As you rode, you felt Charles slump against you, exhaustion taking over his body. You reached behind with one hand, grabbing his knee and shaking him awake. “I know you hate me right now, but I need you to stay awake for me… please.”

He grumbled something in reply, his speech slurred and indecipherable. 

“I’m gonna talk at you, like I always do,” you tried to joke. “And you’re gonna do what you do, which is nod along and pretend you care. Just… just stay awake. You hear me?”

“I care…” you heard him protest, and you just shook your head.

“Uh-huh.” The wind was biting into your cheeks, and your eyes were watering, but you didn’t dare slow. You filled the couple minute ride with your voice, telling stories of your childhood, or random anecdotes you’d picked up from your travels, to recounting the bar fight you’d gotten into a few weeks prior. Charles, despite being exhausted, kept alert, giving one-word responses from time to time. 

He shivered the entire time, and you couldn’t tell if that was worrying or comforting. Panic was steadily bubbling in your chest, finding it hard to keep focus on your stories. Halfway through the ride, much like you did, he rested his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You suppressed a surprised noise as you felt the freezing skin against your own, his nose and lips unnervingly cold. 

“Stay with me, Charles.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was cold. 

Everything was cold.

Could hair get cold? It sure felt like it. Charles had never felt such coldness in his life before, and he never wanted to experience it again.

He should’ve never gone on to the ice, his brain was screaming at him.

But he had led with his heart, shoving the man off you and following him on to the ice. As soon as he had seen you go down, the other man on top of you, it was like time had slowed down. He had seen red, the two men attempting to hold him down quickly meeting their ends at the hands of his fury. 

He prided himself on being able to keep calm in situations, his anger rarely ever taking a hold of him, and it had never happened since he joined the gang. Guess that streak was broken now. Not that he had any regrets.

Well, he had a few.

He should’ve registered the footprints in the snow leading up to the base of the tree. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, should’ve not been so distracted by you. He should’ve said something.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.

But he’s just a man, and man is selfish. He was glad this happened.

Without this happening, he wouldn’t have his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried into your neck breathing you in. Without this, you wouldn’t have called him darling, causing his heart to thump erratically in his chest. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to pretend right now that you and him were more than friends, a fantasy that he had played out a million times in his dreams.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. A shiver wracked his body, and he burrowed deeper. God, he was so cold. And so tired.It would be so easy to just close his eyes, to let unconsciousness wash over him… 

He was jolted awake by a hearty shake of his knee, and he heard your voice break through the fog of his brain. 

You had such a lovely voice. He hated how worried it sounded, and all because of him. Or maybe he was happy you were worried about him. He couldn’t tell. Everything was unclear. The only thing he was certain about was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that grew with each glance and each soft word from you.

He was in love with you.

Stupidly in love, in fact. 

He couldn’t stop himself, the words tumbling from his lips like a freefall. But it came out as gibberish, and he felt you shake your head, unable to comprehend him.

That’s alright. He’d repeat it as many times as you needed. 

And as another shiver tore through him, he felt you rub his thigh reassuringly. Despite the thick material of your gloves, he could feel the warmth of your skin, practically burning against his frosty skin. The butterflies in his chest bubbled to life, and he couldn’t stop the small laugh he let out. 

He was infatuated.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The short ride felt like forever, the monotonous landscape that had once been soothing now tormenting you as you searched for the cabin you saw prior. The smoke trail was impossible to spot out in the snowstorm, so you used what limited navigation skills you had to get you there. 

Eventually, the frame of the cabin broke through the sheet of snow, and you nearly cried in relief. You were starting to freeze, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Charles was feeling. Taima huffed as you brought her alongside the entrance, the steam from her snout dissipating instantly. Quickly dismounting, Charles nearly fell off when you moved, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” you snarled, roughly shaking him awake. Yes, you were threatening the hypothermic man. No, you did not care. You were almost inside, and you were not going to lose him. “Do not pass out on me, Charles Smith. Now, let’s get you off Taima.”

Charles muttered out an apology, his eyes reopening as he struggled to get off. His clothes were starting to solidify, clumps of ice forming across his jacket. You helped as best you could, catching him when his feet made contact with the ground, nearly sending you both to the snow. Again, you slung his arm over your shoulder, your other arm holding your gun as you entered the cabin, ready to clear out any homeowners. 

A blast of heat hit both of you as you creaked the door open slowly, and you heard Charles sigh with relief. A quick scan around proved that it was empty, and you gently set Chalres in front of the still burning fire. You realized now that the occupants were probably some of the O’Driscolls that just jumped you, and the cabin now stood empty for you and Charles. Relaxing slightly, you put away your gun, then added a few more logs to the fire pit, the flames lapping at the wood eagerly. 

To call the cabin small would be an understatement. It was large enough to fit both you and Charles comfortably, but you can’t imagine that the few O’Driscolls camping here temporarily had a lot of legroom . A single twin sized bed was lined up against the wall, cloth and other materials covering the windows beside it. There was a fireplace, a small stewpot, a nightstand, and a chair. Extra sleeping bags and rugs adorned the floor, a few cans of fruits and vegetables scattered across the floor. You saw the occasional empty bottle of alcohol, and you even found a pack of cigarettes. 

Charles seemed to wake some, the warmth of the fire breathing some life back into him. You saw him look around, body still shaking. He looked even worse than you thought, his normally warm-toned skin devoid of any color, and his hair was plastered to his face. As you crouched down in front of him, you went to push back a few strands, your gloves long since discarded, but you refrained. 

“A-Are you alright?” You heard him ask again through chattering teeth, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even though he saw freezing, likely suffering from hypothermia, he was more worried about your well being.

“I’m not the one who fell into the freezing lake. What were you thinking?” You weren’t angry, your words surprisingly gentle despite the fear in your heart. 

“I-I wasn’t… I-” his body cut him off, shivers wracking his body. 

“We gotta get these clothes off of you,” you picked at the offending garment, the material barely budging. You started to work the heavy coat off his shoulders, the roaring wind outside the only noise.

Suddenly, Charles was grabbing at your wrist, stalling your movement. You were halfway done with taking it off, the water melting off of it coating your hands. “Taima…” you heard him say.

“I’ll go make sure she’s secure,” you quickly rose to your feet. “Just get undressed. We need to get you warmed up.”

Stepping outside, the gusts hitting your body caused you to let out a curse. Taima was  still where you left her, stomping impatiently in the ground, shaking out her coat as she tried to keep warm. When you clicked your tongue, she came prancing over, ready to get out of the wind. 

You led her to the attached stall, which was in pretty decent condition. It blocked out a lot of the wind, and it shared a wall with the fireplace, letting some of the warmth to the horses as well. There was some hay left scattered on the ground, and you took off her saddle, setting it on the stand. You left the horse blanket on, giving her some extra protection. 

When you were done, you moved to leave, and you felt Taima brush affectionately against your head, nuzzling her snout into your shoulder. Laughing, you pet her neck affectionately before she removed herself to continue eating at the hay. Making sure the gate was secure, you headed back into the cabin. 

Charles was still undressing when you entered, his back to you. Even his undershirt was soaked through, the material clinging to his body like a second skin. It was at that point it clicked that the man you were infatuated with was going to be bare before you soon. You found yourself turning away, uncharacteristically embarrassed, shrugging off your own jacket and laying across the back of the chair. If it was any other person, you’d’ve not reacted this way, your lifestyle not allowing for much privacy. But of course it had to be Charles getting undressed in front of you, and you found yourself growing quite warm. 

Taking the lasso from your belt, you strung it across the room, making a makeshift clothesline to hopefully dry his clothes faster. His jacket, which was a wet pile of fur, was the first to be hung up, the rope creaking precariously under the weight. Luckily, it held, and you added each new item as he took it off. 

You made sure not to look directly at Charles, and you saw in your peripheral vision as he worked off his shirt. Your throat was suddenly dry, hands shaky as you continued to hang items up. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Charles? It was like God was tormenting you, giving you what, but keeping it just out of reach. 

You must’ve made a noise, because Charles was turning toward you, concerned. You finally let yourself look at him. He was partially done unbuttoning his shirt, the collar open, but you saw that he was struggling with the small buttons, his fingers barely working. “May I?” you asked, gesturing toward his shirt. The sooner he was out of the wet garment, the better.

He paused for a second, contemplating. “Yes,” he consented, lowering his hand at his side. Stepping forward, your hands resumed his work, quickly undoing the rest of it. Do not make a big deal of this, you repeated in your mind. You were simply helping a friend not die from hypothermia, not unbuttoning the shirt of the person you were hopelessly in love with. He shrugged it off, practically peeling it from his body. You were especially careful to only look him in the eye now, not daring to look at his newly exposed chest. 

Turning your back to him to hang up the shirt, the unmistakable clang of his belt hitting the floor had you stilling. Exhaling shakily, you heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, all making themselves comfortable on the floor. You didn’t dare turn around to grab them. Instead, you headed towards the bed, pulling off the heavy duvet. Walking backwards, you held it out to him behind you. You heard him murmur out a small thanks, taking the blanket from your outstretched arms. 

You gave him a few moments. “Are you… decent?” you asked, keeping your gaze up even with your back turned. When he gave a noise of confirmation, you finally turned back around. After situating his discarded clothing, you gathered some of the canned goods strewn about before setting your boots next to Charles’ beside the fire. You sat down next to him on the various furs and bedrolls. Charles had the blanket wrapped around his body, and you tried really hard to not concentrate on the fact that he was completely bare under the duvet. 

You opened one of the cans with your knife, tossing the lid of it behind you and handing it to the man beside you. “Eat. You need to get your strength up.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us. Now, eat.” You pushed the can of what looked to be sweetcorn in his hand, and he finally took it, tipping it back into his mouth and eating slowly. 

He was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming more and more alert, and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Quickly finishing the can of food, he placed the empty can beside him, rubbing his hands together beneath the blanket. You were looking into the fire, and you could feel his eyes on you. He didn’t say anything, just observing you like he normally did. 

This time, however, it felt like his eyes were picking you apart, like he could see every secret beneath your skin. Clearing your throat, you stood up, gathering up the remainder of his clothing and hanging them up. You were scared that the longer you sat by him, the likelihood of you having to confront your secrets would increase tenfold. “You need anythin’? More food? Water? Coffee?” You asked, drying your hands on your pants. 

“I’m g-good,” he responded. 

“Have you warmed up at all?” He shrugged in response, the action barely noticeable with the heavy blanket around his shoulders. You didn’t bother to hide the concerned frown on your lips as you crouched beside him. Running the back of your hand, you winced when you were met with deathly cold skin. “Shit…” you cursed, pulling your hand away, and you failed to notice Charles chasing after your warmth.

Standing up, you began to pace the room, trying to keep the dread you felt at bay. Your mind was running wild with thoughts, all ending in worse case scenarios. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to keep calm, just for Charles’ sake. You wouldn’t do him any good if you were freaking out. You tried to think back on the basic first aid you’d learned through the years. Most of the things you’d already done, like getting him out of wet clothing, getting him food, getting him in front of a fire. Was there anything else you could do? Or did you just have to sit and wait and pray that what you did was enough.

You knew Charles was watching you pace, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. You ran your fingers through your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally remembered. Body heat, which means… oh. 

Goddamn it all. 

You hoped you didn’t look too alarmed. It’s not that you were opposed to the idea, but it would make it significantly harder to bottle up your feelings. In fact, doing this might just smash the bottle all together, causing you to spill your heart to him. “So…” you began nervously. How the hell were you supposed to ask this?

“So…?” Charles repeated, raising a brow. 

“I-I… well…” you ran your hand over your face. The wall was looking quite interesting right now. “I was wondering if you’d like… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’... if you’d like for me to share my warmth?” That sounds so weird. “It’s just, you’re not gettin’ any better… and I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” The last part you whispered, and you doubted he even heard it. 

Something flickered across Charles’ face, too quick for you to recognize. He looked conflicted, and you chewed nervously on your lips. Did I cross a line? Oh God, did I make this weird? He’s gonna hate me-

“I’d like that,” his voice cut off your minds’ rambling. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you gave him a small smile, which he returned. Okay, this is happening. Again, do not make a big deal of this. This means nothing. Your hands, which weren’t steady, began to work at your button up. Charles slowly looked away, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’m not gonna take everythin’ off,” you reassured, taking the look in his eye as concern. Taking your gun belt off and setting it on the bed, your pants and socks were off next, joining the belt, leaving you in only your undergarments. 

Slowly, you approached him, your steps uncertain across the bedrolls and furs. You tried to keep calm, but the reality of what was going to happen quite soon was causing your heart to pound against your ribs. He watched you approach, head turned back around. You couldn't imagine it was comfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Finally, you stood in front of him, partially blocking the fire, which caused your shadow to cast over Charles. Without breaking eye contact with you, he pulled the blanket back, inviting you in. Your shadow, thankfully, blocked out any newly revealed skin, but you still found a blush creeping up your neck. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you sat yourself on his lap. With your legs wrapping around his hips, your ankles were barely able to interlock. His following sigh sounded pleased, and you found yourself smiling as he wrapped the blanket around the two of you, creating something akin to a cocoon. He kept his hands braced on the ground beside him, refraining from touching you.

Charles was indeed freezing, and you let out a discontent noise at the contact. “Sorry,” you more felt than heard him say, your faces mere inches apart. 

“I should be the one who’s sayin’ that…” you sighed, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, beginning the process of warming his body back to a normal temperature. “I should’ve been payin’ better attention, then we would’ve never ended up in this mess.” Not that I’m complaining too much. 

The two of you sat together for a few minutes, letting Charles simply enjoy your body heat. “I don’t think either of us were expecting an O’Driscoll to come falling out of a tree.” You heard him say.

“It certainly wasn’t on my list of things to happen today,” you laughed, your hands moving down his shoulders to his biceps. Having him under your touch like this really put into perspective his sheer size. “And neither is this. Any of this. I’m sure you weren’t plannin’ on takin’ a bath in Lake Isabella today.”

“Can’t say I was. But, you-” Charles cut himself off, his eyes widening the tiniest bit. If you weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You gave him a confused look, and he just shook his head. “It’s nothing. I almost said something foolish,” he tried to dismiss, embarrassment evident on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say somethin’ foolish the entire time I’ve known you.” You tugged at one of his arms, bringing it between your bodies after he shifted his weight on to the other arm. You clasp his uninjured hand between yours, blowing hot air and trying your best to return some life back to the ice cubes that were his fingers. “You know I ain’t gonna tease you for what you say, right?”

“I know,” Charles sighed, but he didn’t elaborate further. You didn’t push, not wanting to wreck this moment between the two of you. You felt him flex his fingers between yours, a relieved noise leaving him as more feeling returned to them. Eventually, you let go of his hand, but it seemed like he didn’t quite know where to put it, hovering a few inches above your waist before returning back to the ground. “You can touch me, Charles.”

You held back a content noise when you finally felt him grasp your waist, his fingers resting on the waistband of your undergarments. Occasionally, his fingers would brush your bare skin, your undershirt having rid up when you had sat down, and you felt goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

Moving to his injured hand, you eyed the now wrecked bandage, blood and water causing the material to practically dissolve. You tsked disapprovingly, and began to peel off the old wrapping, discarding them across the cabin. You were expecting to see the wound completely reopened, especially because of the punches he threw at the O’Driscoll, but were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty much healed injury. It was slightly irritated, sure, but it must’ve been healed for at least a day or two.

“And here I was scared that we’d have to chop off your hand,” you joked, flipping his arm over as you examined the now scar. “This has been healed for a day or two now. You’re probably only gonna have a light scar from this.” Realization dawned on you, and you chuckled. “Charles, you could’ve gone huntin’ on your own today.”

“I could’ve.” He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Still, I did want to do it with you, but I could’t just ask. I needed an excuse.”

“You never need an excuse, Charles. I’ll gladly go huntin’ with you, injured hand or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You felt him squeeze your hip gently, a playful grin on his face. It had your stomach doing somersaults, and you tore your eyes away to begin warming up his other hand. It was strange, seeing him so carefree like this. It was a look you’d never really seen on him, but you rather enjoyed it. “Only hunting?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased, drawing out the syllables. “Whatcha have in mind?”

“Not quite sure yet. But it’ll just be us.”

“Like a date?” You joked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Sure. Like a date.”

A giddy smile cracked across your lips, and you gingerly kissed the back of Charles’ hand before letting it go, where it immediately joined his other by settling on your waist. Your ears were burning, a flustered blush growing across your body. Here you were, sitting on a naked Charles’ lap, only the thin material of your undergarments separating the two of you, but the thing that made you bashful was him asking you on a date. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, the hands on your waist moving up your back, keeping your body pressed close to him. The digits were still a bit chilled, but you didn’t mind. The blanket around the two of you was barely hanging on at this point, and you tried your best to keep it around him. Like he did on the horse, you felt him bury his face in the crook where your neck and shoulders connected. 

Although it was significantly less cold than the last time, you still shivered at the contact. You felt his lips brush against the skin, and you could barely feel the light kiss he pressed there, gone in an instant. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind at that moment. You mostly felt relieved, your feelings for the man no longer feeling so one-sided. Your mind was so loud, in fact, that you barely heard him mumble something against your skin. You realized that he was thanking you, and you responded with a confused noise.

“You saved my life today. Twice. I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“I wouldn’t’ve just left you, Charles. I couldn’t. I…” you trailed off, a confession ready to leave your lips. The bottle had cracked, its contents spilling out as you tried to damndest to keep it all contained. “If I remember correctly, you also saved me today. Nothin’ good would’ve happened if you weren’t there today.”

You felt him tense, an almost pained sound leaving him. “When I saw you like that… I don’t ever want to see that again.”

You moved back so that you could see him again, and you cupped the side of his face with your hand, relieved to find the skin significantly warmer than it was moments ago. “I’m alright. Thanks to you, I’m safe.” 

He relaxed slightly, but his eyes were filled with so much sadness that it had you frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” he whispered, resting his own hand atop yours. “The best thing in my life, and I almost lost it today.” Both of you seemed surprised by his words, but you didn’t let him backtrack.

“But you didn’t. You are the one who got that man off me, and showed him the error of his ways.”

He chuckled at that, but then another frown adorned his lips. “I didn’t… unsettle you, right? I… I saw your eyes widen after you called me off him. You’re not-”

“Never. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Relieved, you felt him go fully lax under your touch. His whole body had returned to a normal temperature, you noted, the heat under the blanket beginning to become sweltering. With your thumb, you stroked his cheek, feeling the raised skin of the scar across his cheek. He let go of your hand, moving it back to the ground to keep the two of you propped up as you leaned forward. The duvet fell slightly, exposing his shoulder to the air, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.”

He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. “Yeah?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low.

You nodded, the fingers on his cheek moving to brush a few strands away from his face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out but not because of the low light. “I always think you look beautiful,” you murmured. 

He hummed in response, and you felt the hand on your back creek up, resting at the nape of your neck. He didn’t pull you forward, he just held you. “Next to you, however, I imagine I look quite plain.”

“Oh, hush,” you chided while smiling. 

“I’m serious.” You felt him play with the hair at your neck, fingers running lightly through the strands. “It’s distracting, how beautiful you are. Whenever I walk into a room and you’re in there, you’re the first thing I look at, and I can never bring myself to look away. At night at camp, you look so at ease, the fire illuminates your face in a way that makes you look ethereal. I can do nothing but watch you, too stunned to speak. You plague every waking thought, and you haunt my dreams. You’ve unknowingly burrowed yourself into my heart, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You were at a loss for words, your mouth moving but no words actually came out. Choosing to ignore the way your heart celebrated, you let out an airy chuckle. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

He laughed. “I can keep it short, if you’d like?”

“I didn’t mean that,” you scoffed. “What could possibly condense all that?”

Charles gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe you hadn’t caught on by now. A part of you knew what he was going to say, but you wouldn't believe it. You needed to hear it from his lips. The hand playing with your hair stilled, the only sound being the crackling fire behind you. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

He said it like it was the simplest thing ever, like it hadn’t just completely flipped your world upside down. He had taken your bottled up feelings and opened it himself. Taking your responding silence as a negative thing, you felt his hand fall slightly, a worried look crossing his face. You didn’t give him much time to worry, pulling him closer with the hand still cupping his face. Your foreheads connected, and your lips were almost brushing. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.”

“Well… for how long?”

“How long have I been with the gang?”

Surprised, you laughed lightly, and he visibly looked confused. “So this entire time, you felt the same way?”

It took a second for him to process your words, a wide grin appearing when he did. “I guess so.” He paused for a moment, and you felt him take a deep breath. “You love me?” He asked, his voice small and uncertain. 

You moved your face back an inch, giving you room to nod. “I do. For the same amount of time, too. I was too scared to say anythin’, I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. And I kinda thought I annoyed you to death,” you chuckled. “But if today reminded me of anythin’, it’s that this life is too unpredictable to have regrets.”

“Arthur gave you that lecture too?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn't heed your warning about not playing matchmaker with you and Charles. But still, you might have to thank him later. “Despite what he claims, he’s a nosy bastard.”

He hummed in agreement, and a silence hung over the room, anticipation heavy in the air. With the lightest touch, you felt him bring you forward with the hand on the back of your head. “I wanna hear you say it,” you heard him ask. 

“I love you, darlin’.” Both hands now cupped his cheeks, and you hovered your lips above his. “Kiss me?”

“Gladly.” You felt his hand move to cradle your head, pulling you in the final distance until your lips were colliding. There was only a hint of chill left on his skin, easily melting away against your warm mouth.  His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and you let out a pleased sigh. It was a surprisingly quick kiss, and you sucked in a breath when you felt him pull away, his eyes blown out. 

He was also panting, and his fingers wove into your hair, like he was grounding himself. Moving forward, you tried to reconnect your lips, but he moved his head so that your lips collided with his cheek instead. A jolt of panic shot through your body, thinking you horribly misread the situation. “I want… I want this,” he reassured. “But I want to make sure you want this. That you want… me.”

You’d never met a man like Charles Smith, and you’re sure you’d never meet another like him. Never, ever had you heard of or met a man explicitly asking for consent like this, and it got you more excited than you thought it would. “I’ve wanted this for a while now,” you admitted, resting your touch on the junction where his shoulders and neck met. “I’ve dreamed of a moment like this more times than I can count. I want you, Charles. I need-”

In a complete switch up, he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your words. If the first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, this one was hungry and confident, lips eagerly moving against yours. He was practically devouring you, like he couldn’t get enough of you. With every small noise that left you, he seemed to grow more bold, and you felt the fingers in your hair tug slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it caused your lips to part. Within seconds his tongue swept into your mouth, eager to explore you. 

The blanket had long since fallen off, bunched up on the ground surrounding the two of you. Pushing him lightly on his shoulders, you eased him on his back. Your hands planted on his chest when he made contact with the furs, your lips not separating for a moment. He was a pleasant temperature under your fingers, his skin surprisingly soft, just like his lips. You were straddling his waist now, your hands barely keeping you from laying your entire weight on the man. 

He had let go of your head, his hands moving to your waist to keep you secure. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. A part of you wanted him to, but you didn’t say anything. If he wanted you like you wanted him, then there would be a next time.

Rocking your hips, you felt a growing hardness barely separated by your thin undergarments. You felt him groan when you did so, and he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he moved his head away to suck in some air, your hands snaked back up his neck, nearly covering his ears. You’d thought your attempts at warming him up were fruitful, but when you felt how cold his ears were, you made a concerned noise, your lust temporarily forgotten. “Your ears are freezing…”

He looked like he couldn’t care less, but then a mischievous smile crossed his face. “You gonna warm them up, then?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” You giggled, and you made sure that your hands fully covered them. You had easy access to his lips, and you gave him a quick kiss. 

“Not with your hands, my love.”

You smiled at the endearment, but his statement confused you. Cocking your head to the side, you moved your hands off his face, settling them back on his chest. “What-?”

You didn’t get to finish your question, the hands on your hips effortlessly pulling your up toward his face. Your knees now straddled the sides of his head, your thighs practically where your hands were, covering his ears. You looked down at him with wide eyes, a flush creeping up your neck at the implications. Surely he doesn't want that, right?

Charles let out a satisfied noise, and with his hands now on your thighs he eased you on to him. You let him, but you kept a few inches between his mouth and your body. He genuinely seemed upset by that, and you felt him press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Please, let me taste you,” he pressed another kiss to the inside of your legs, this one closer to your aching center. If he moved any closer, he was bound to feel your wetness through the fabric. “I want you to fall apart on my face.”

You exhaled shakily. “You want to?” You asked, almost in disbelief. This man was unreal.

He nodded, the action causing his chin to brush against your center. “Let me make you feel good, my love.” When he pulled you down again, you didn’t keep any distance between the two of you. You felt him press a kiss to your clothed center, a smug grin on his face when he felt your arousal. He didn’t say anything, just pulling you down closer to his face until your legs were fully wrapped around his head, no space between the two of you. 

You felt his tongue flick out, simply tasting you through the damp fabric. He did it again, and again, and his hands tightened on your thighs. He was indirect with his tongue, but each swipe had you letting out small moans. A mix of his saliva and your arousal was causing the fabric to become even more wet; they were most certainly going to be wrecked. 

The small kitten-licks were nice, but you needed more. Charles knew this too, and you felt him work his fingers under the material of your undergarments, pulling them down your ass and thighs. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually the garment was off, being tossed somewhere to the side by you, leaving you in only your undershirt.

He wasted no time, pulling you back down onto his face with a growl. Parting you with a pass of his tongue, he let out a pleased noise, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. Charles was insatiable now, lapping and drinking you like you were the best goddamn meal he’s ever had. His eyes were hooded, drunk on you. When his broad strokes turned into concentrated flicks on your clit, you moaned loudly, your thighs turning vice-like around his head. 

It spurred him on, working your clit with markman’s accuracy, bringing you closer and closer to your climax in record time. You heard him groan something under you, and you let out a breathy sigh when you realized he was groaning your name over and over again.  

This entire time, you had kept your hands to yourself, but you were growing more and more desperate to touch him. Reaching down, your hands tangled in his hair, and then almost immediately releasing it like it burned you. For a second, you panicked, thinking yet again you crossed a line, which seemed to be a repeating event this evening. You knew his hair was an important part of his culture, and you would never forgive yourself if you did something to upset him.

Without even slowing down a beat, you felt him grab your hand, leading your back towards his head. He closed his eyes when he felt you weave your fingers through the locks, his hips bucking when you tugged slightly. 

You were getting close now, and you felt yourself moving against his face in time with his tongue. “Charles,” you whined, and he hummed in response. “I’m- I’m gettin’ close, darlin’,”

As you neared your release, you heard the sound of skin-on-skin from behind you. Turning around, you saw Charles stroking himself, getting off to eating you out. “Oh my God… Charles…” you breathed out, barely able to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight behind you.

His eyes were hazy with lust as he peered up at you from between your legs, and you could feel yourself begin to tip over the edge. Sighing out his name, you felt him grin. Before you could even process it, he sucked on your clit, pushing you over that edge as you came hard on his face. You were crying out his name, but your voice sounded distant to your ears, temporarily out of your body as you orgasmed. Charles kept his tongue moving as you came, drawing out every bit of pleasure from your body.

It took you a few moments to recover, and the first thing you were able to hear was the obscene noise leaving Charles’ mouth as he drank in your release. Secondly, you realized you had a death-grip on Charles’ hair, and you quickly let go, and you tried to apologize, but your words were jumbled. He continued to lap at you, but it quickly became too much, your body beginning to feel overstimulated. You rolled off of him, being mindful of the fireplace even in your post-orgasmic haze.

Glancing over at Charles, you found him already watching you, just like he would do in camp. With a soft smile, you scooted closer until you were pressed into his side. He gave you his arm to la on, and you felt him kiss the top of your head. It was silent between the two of you, simply taking the moment to catch your breaths and recover. 

You couldn’t help looking down, though, having to stifle a gasp when you saw how big he actually was, having only gotten a glimpse of him early. He was going to feel good, but you knew you would be sore for a few days after. Not that you cared. 

Looking back up at him, you let your fingers trail up his chest, resting right above his heart. It was beating erratically, just like yours, and you heard him let out a noise when your fingers “accidently” brushed over his nipple. You heard him whine out your name, and you slowly sat up. You were able to see him clearer now, and he looked like a mess. His face was covered in your slick, glistening in the firelight, and his hair was all tousled from your fingers. But the best part was the pure bliss on his features.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes snapped open when you pulled off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “You’ve got somethin’ on your face,” you tried to joke, but your voice was quite hoarse. You tossed your shirt at him, giving him something to wipe his mouth with. He merely set it to the side, unbothered with the mess. Propping himself up with an arm, he offered you his free hand, pulling you forward when you took it in yours.

You nearly fell right on top of him, your muscles pure jelly. Laughing, you were just able to get upright before he was kissing you. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but you found you didn’t mind. You didn’t keep your lips on his for too long, moving down his jaw, then down his neck. You weren’t straddling his hips, so the positioning was a tad bit uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. 

Moving down further, you trailed kissed across his collarbones, then down his sternum, his breathing growing uneven as you went lower and lower. A hand now rested on the back of your head as you continued downward, reaching a patch of hair that started at his belly button. It surprised you, the rest of his body being relatively hairless, but you weren't complaining. In fact, you were imagining seeing it peek out from under his shirt as he stretched, his clothing riding up with his arms. Even though it was relatively innocent in the light of everything else the two of you were doing, it had you pressing your thighs together, trying to relieve the returning ache between them.

Following the happy trail, you ran your fingers through the hair as you adjusted closer to his member. His was achingly hard at this point, and his breathing stilled when you ghost your lips over the tip. Leaning over him, you flicked your tongue out, licking up the bead of precum. The hand and your head tightened into a ball, and you could tell he was fighting every urge to buck himself down your throat. Next time, you thought. 

Moving down further so that you sat between his legs, you spit into your hand before you grasped him. He was velvety soft as you slowly began to stroke him, a mix of your name and a moan leaving his lips as you did so. With heavy eyes and part lips, he watched you pleasure him. “You feel so good in my hand,” you murmured, “butI think you’ll feel even better in me, no?”

His response was slightly incoherent, but you could tell he was agreeing with you. “In a second, darlin’. I wanna taste you, too.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Charles found his voice again, although it sounded very strained.

“But I want to. Don’t make me beg for it.” You weren’t really intended to suggest anything, but the look on Charles’ face at your comment had you grinning. “Unless you want me to?”

“I-” he was stunned, but you could tell he was imagining it, and liking it. 

“Please, darlin’, let me suck your cock,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “I bet you taste so good… just let me taste you, please. I need it so bad, darlin’. I need your cock-”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Charles cursed, which was more arousing than you thought it would be. “Yeah, go ahead, my love.”

Pressing one last kiss to the tip, you flattened your tongue and ran it up his length, and you heard him moan. You did it a few times, receiving a similar reaction each time. Eventually, you slowly took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around while doing so. Taking more and more of him into your mouth, you were only able to take him halfway before he was pressing against the back of your throat, and you relaxed as best you could, not wanting to trigger your gag reflex.

Taking the rest of him in your hand, you began to bob your head up and down. Hollowing your cheeks until you reached the tip of him, you then ran your tongue across the slit, before moving back down his length, keeping your tongue flat. You repeated this action for a while, falling into an easy rhythm. You felt him buck up a few times, but other than that he kept his hips relatively still, letting you have your way with him. His hand didn’t push you further down him, he just simply held you, moving back the hairs that tried to fall in your face. 

You heard him moan out your name, and you groaned. “You feel so good, my love,” he praised. His words turned into a surprised moan, whe, with your free hand, started moving slowly up his thigh, moving inward until you brushed against his balls. He nearly jumped with the contact, causing his cock to go further down your throat than you'd like, causing you to rear back coughing. 

Immediately, he was apologizing. His hand was now on your cheek, wiping away the spit around your mouth as you recovered. “Are you alright?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting your voice at that second. You could tell that he still felt bad, and you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. 

“I’m alright,” you managed to get out, and you cleared your throat some more. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“So did you, touching me like that” he teased, his earlier concerns dissipating when he saw that you truly were okay. “I wasn’t gonna last long even before you did that.” Pulling you up to him, he kissed you, and you finally straddled his waist, his cock resting between your bodies. 

You weren’t given much time to savor his lips before your world was quite literally turning as he flipped you on to your back. The furs nestled nicely against your skin, and you locked your legs around Charles’ waist, grinding yourself against his member. His head fell against your chest, and you felt him brush feather-light kisses across your skin, much like you did. But a new eagerness had overtaken you, and you grinded again against him, and you felt him chuckle. “Patience, my love.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Charles. I need you in me.”

“You think you’re ready for me?” If those words came out of any other man, you would’ve laughed at the arrogance those words held. But you knew it came out of a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing, scared of hurting you. He was large, and you knew that it was probably going to hurt when he entered you, but your lust fueled brain did not care. You need him in you now, consequences be damned.

“Please,” you whispered, and he adjusted so that his face was level with yours. 

“Alright, but if at any point-”

Kissing him quickly, you smiled at him, brushing back a long strand of hair that fell in his face. “I will. I trust you. Now,” you kissed him again, “fuck me.”

He didn’t respond, pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose before you felt him press into you. He kept his eyes on your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly entered you. The initial breach was always the worst part, and you couldn’t help the slight grimace that crossed your features as he breached your entrance. He halted, but you urged him further by pressing your heels into his back. 

The stretch was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, satiating a need you didn’t know you had. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled your face against yours, resting your foreheads together. “God, you feel so good,” you panted as he pressed himself deeper into you. You were certain that he was going to ruin you for any other man. 

Hearing him chuckle made you realize you said that last part aloud. “After this, you’re stuck with me, my love.”

Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and you were curious to see how deep his possessive side went, you pushed further. “Am I now?” Yes. 

For a second, it seemed like Charles couldn’t tell that you were teasing, but when he saw the playful glint in your eye he played along. “Do you think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

He was nearly fully sheathed in you, and you fought the urge to just pull him the rest of the way into you “I dunno. If I remember right, I asked you to fuck me. It sure don’t feel like you’re doin’ that.”

Finally, he was fully in you, your hips flushed together. You both let out content moans, and Charles gave you a moment to adjust. “You want me to fuck you?” He confirmed, and the words sounded even filthier coming from his mouth. 

“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.” 

Letting out something akin to a growl, he pulled out of you quickly, leaving only the tip in before he was slamming back into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. He set a brutal pace, and your head rolled back, your moans and cries filling the air. With the way your head was, it caused your back to arch, meaning your breasts were right in his face. With zero hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking and toying with the nipple in his mouth. Releasing it, he switched to the other one, making sure to give both apt attention. 

Tugging at his hair, you brought his attention upwards. Smashing your lips against his, your kiss was open-mouth and messy, more tongue and teeth than anything. His hips were snapping against yours, incessant as he pounded into you. 

“Yes! Charles,” you wailed, tearing your lips away from his to do so. He kept his lips busy, nipping and kissing the skin at your jaw and neck. A particularly hard bite had you gasping, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way; all that you could register was him, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he looked. 

He leaned over you now, broad arms caging your head in. His dark hair fell in waves around him, blocking out any other visual in the room. All you could do was look at him, and he was a sight for sore eyes. Color had long since returned to his cheeks, the skin there darkening with exertion. His eyes were locked on to you, dancing around your face and chest like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to look at. His plush lips were parted, soft gasps of air leaving him with each thrust.

Another snap of his hips had you grasping at his back and shoulders, pleasuring washing over you as another orgasm began to build up. Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, but it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, he let out a low moan, and it had your cunt clenching around his cock. 

Babbling his name, your nails ran down his back, leaving in its wake angry red lines. “You feel so good… like you were made for me.”

“My love…” he sighed, and one of the hands at the side of your head cupped your face,  bringing you right to his lips. His length was reaching places in you that you didn’t know existed, filling you deep and hard, just like you wanted. You were going to become addicted to him. 

“I’m so close, Charles…” Releasing one of his shoulders, you snaked your hand between your bodies, moving to start touching yourself. You weren’t expecting him to quickly grasp your wrist, bringing it out of the way and replacing your hand with his much larger one. He began to rub at your clit, slow circular movements that juxtaposed the fast in-and-out of his cock. His ministrations had you seeing stars, and you felt yourself reaching completion again that night. 

“Charles, I-”

“I know. Let me feel you fall apart.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

His slow movements turned rapid, groaning when he felt you clench around him. With a cry of his name, you came, pleasure rolling over you in waves. This one was stronger than the first, feeling like every nerve in your body had been set aflame. Your eyes rolled back, the world temporarily turning dark as your eyelids shut. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, a reverent look in his gaze. With the way your walls were fluttering around him, and the quickened pace of his hips, you knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

His arms went back around your head, continuing to move as he chased his own release. You heard him gasp out, quickly pulling out of you, and you let out a discontent noise as he no longer filled you. He stroked himself a few times, hand moving fervently up and down his length. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would’ve had taken him in your hand yourself, wanting to feel him as well. Moaning your name, you watched as he came, his release spilling over your stomach. His hips canted forward a few times as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You loosened your legs that were wrapped around his waist, and silence hung over the two of you as you both processed what just happened. A small laugh left you, breaking the trance, and you saw him smile back at you, mirroring his laughter with his own. You watched him grab the blanket that was still bundled up on the floor, and he tore off a section of it, the sound of fabric ripping startling you slightly. 

Wiping his release from your skin, he tossed the soiled cloth to some corner of the room. It’s not like this was your place, anyways. Opening your arms, you invited him to lay with you, and he gladly accepted. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, but he still lay partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. It was comforting, and you felt yourself begin to grow a bit sleepy. “Are you warm yet?” You teased, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, and you felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“I think so,” he responded, bringing the blanket around your bodies. The fire was starting to die down, but neither of you moved to add fuel to it. He murmured something, and you gave an inquisitive sound. “I love you,” he repeated, his brown eyes filled with emotion as he stared up at you.

“I love you, too.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it. “What is it?” You asked, and he sighed, his warm breath tickling you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your earlier conversation. The vulnerability in his voice had your eyes watering, and it didn’t take much thinking to reach your answer. Sure, you were scared for the future of the gang, and you were scared that with each passing day you’d find yourself closer and closer to finding your end at a rope or a barrel, but none of those fears mattered, not anymore. Not when you finally had all that you wanted in your arms. And who knows, maybe you’d end up leaving in time, but you knew you wouldn’t be leaving alone.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. Besides, you still owe me a date.”

His responding smile solidified that you had made the right decision. Whatever the future held, you knew it would be easier with Charles by your side.

[famesau]

Braiding His Hair

Charles Smith x Gender neutral native reader

summary: Charles asks you to braid his hair :))

Warnings: very slight angst >:)

a/n: I've been ITCHING to write a Charles fic so here we gooo. I have a Kieran fic in the works too.

Today unlike the other days in camp today the heat was close to unbearable. You were sat underneath a tree trying to keep cool yet even in the shade large droplets of sweat accumulated on your forehead. Almost everyone was doing the same, hiding in shady spots to keep cool, all except a few folks. Some of the men tended to chores and ran errands for Dutch, out of the small group of men doing so Charles was one of them. He was one of the hardest workers so it wasn’t a surprise to see him chopping firewood in the beaming sun. He didn’t seem bothered by the heat but his hair stuck to his face or forehead with every swing. He would rake his hair out of his face only to do it again after chopping another piece of wood. A small huff left your lips, finding it a little funny how repetitive it was getting. But soon your eyes reverted to your lap, fixating on your journal and writing. For a handful of minutes that's where you remained. On long days when you were out with the gang, you were writing about your previous days if the events were worth writing about to help pass the time.

“You busy?”

That all too familiar husky and low voice pulling your attention away from your writing. Charles stood over you, his chest lightly heaving from the heat and his hands resting on his hips. Though his expression remained neutral like always, it was clear the heat was getting to him. He’s been up early either carving or tending to chores but the heat today tired him out quickly. You closed your journal and pushed it aside. Curious as to what he wanted.

“No, Do you need something?”

“You mind braiding my hair?”

You of all people knew that he was more than capable of braiding his hair, you’ve seen him doing it many times so it did catch you off guard. From the few months you’ve known him you also admired how well he cared for his hair. You knew part of that reasoning was his native roots, you did the same. Your hair was an important part of you physically, mentally, and spiritually. Which would explain why he asked you of all people to do such a thing for him. He could’ve done it himself, but seeing how well you not only braided your hair but the other girl's hair in camp led him to trust you enough to do his hair. But to you, you just thought he was too tired to do it. Yet you wouldn’t complain. Secretly you’ve wanted to braid his hair but kept it to yourself. With a soft smile, you nodded.

“I don’t mind, c’mon then.”

You said to him as you patted the patch of grass in front of you so he could sit. While you grabbed your portable comb from your satchel he sat in front of you, crossing his legs and waiting for you. Even while sitting down he loomed over you so you sat up, now kneeling behind him.  

“One or two braids?”

“Just one.”

You nodded and then started to prep his hair. With a gentle hand, you raked your comb down his hair. As you expected his hair was soft and silky to the touch. Your comb gilded through his hair with ease, a soft and entranced look etched into your features as you went on. Charles remained still, tilting his head slightly back to make it easy for you. No one touched his hair beside him since he was young, so this experience was a little new but he did enjoy it. A minute longer of comfortable silence passed before you started the braiding process. You parted his hair into 3 sections and began to braid, starting at the base of his neck and slowly making your way down. The process was slow but in a good way, making sure each of your movements was taken with care. Though you couldn’t see his face his expression grew calmer. He hadn’t had anyone braid his hair in years so the gesture brought back memories from his childhood. How his mother would braid his hair every morning and tell him the importance of it. The way she’d carefully put handmade charms in his hair, how she’d smile at him after she did his hair, and tell him how handsome he was with a soft kiss on his forehead. The more the memories played in his head the more somber his expression grew. It was unnoticeable unless you knew him well enough. His eyes held a sense of longing in them as he sat there quietly.  Feeling a mix of sadness and comfort while you continue doing his hair. The last thing he expected was this wave of emotions but he didn’t mind it. All the times he thought of his mother there was a small sense of distance in the memories, however right now, he felt a newfound closeness with her. Like she was once again braiding his hair. His shoulders slumped slightly as he relaxed into your touch. The faintest of smiles on his lips while old family memories, ones he often had trouble remembering, played vividly like a screenplay in his mind. Not much else changed in his expression but he could feel breaths grow deep with relief. But they were soon cut short due to you. You finally finished his braid, tying the end of it with a small yet proud smile.

“There, all done. Turn around real quick.”

You said to him as you sat back down to give your knees a break. You leaned against one of your hands and moved forward slightly, trying to get a better look at him. He blinked a few times as your voice brought him back to reality, not really catching what you said. He turned to look at you, about to ask what you said but the look on your face caught him off guard. A soft look in your eyes and a small smirk on your face. You nodded then smiled more, approving how the braid looked. That proud feeling only grew from how nice he looked. 

“Looks good, I’m done now.”

He couldn’t quite explain it but hearing you say that and look at him like that reminded him of his mother once more. He took a short pause, looking at you with an unreadable expression but for a brief moment, you caught a soft galance from him. His eyes glinted with a hint of warmth in them. Soon after that, he gave you a soft half-smile and patted your shoulder. Giving it a gentle squeeze in appreciation.

“Thank you.”

Was all he said but genuine scenery was laced in his voice. You nodded and placed your hand on his briefly. You both exchanged eye contact for a few seconds longer before he pulled his hand back and stood up. He headed back into camp to tend to more chores while you went back to writing. Both of you could agree that this simple favor was nie, him feeling a deeper level of appreciation towards you. He couldn’t shake those emotions he felt just yet, still vividly remembering the special moments like that with his mother. At first, this was only supposed to be a one-time thing but after that, he had a feeling he’d eventually ask you to do that for him again, maybe even return the favor one day. 

[tobybestupid]

Masterlist

★ Also, if requesting please add what gender you would like if it is for NSFW!! (Gender neutral is okay too!)

★ Btw! Please, do not spam like my posts!

★ from this point on, July 20 2024, I will STOP writing for bands. Extremely sorry but it makes me uncomfortable to be writing about real, living people. I will continue to do games however!

★last updated: September 15, 2024★

Before we get into this, info for requests and such!

★ I do nsfw, angst, fluff, ECT.

★ I do NOT allow/do racism, homophobia, rape, icky bodily fluids, anal, beastiality, etc.

★ I will do character x character, character x reader, character x character x reader!

★ hope this makes sense!!

+ if I missed anything I'm so sorry!

----------------★---------------

Bands I do

Guns n Roses

Mötley Crüe

KISS

Hanoi Rocks

Megadeth

(No longer writing bands)

Other

Call of Duty mw2-mw3

Red Dead Redemption 1-2

----------------------★-----------------------

Mötley Crüe

All of them together x reader

Mötley x reader hc's

🖤Nikki Sixx🖤

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

Taking care of him after tour

Fourth of July with mötley

You pampering mötley

Big ol' crybaby

Doing so good

⛓️Mick Mars⛓️

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

How to take care of him after tour

Fourth of July with mötley

Please, stay

Bubble bath- with cats?

Peachy Keen

You pampering mötley

Mick Mars x Reader injury (appendix, I think)

NSFW hc's

🌜Vince Neil🌛

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

Fourth of July with mötley

You pampering mötley

NSFW Alphabet

❤️‍🔥Tommy Lee❤️‍🔥

Sick mötley x reader

Mötley dealing with you being drunk

Fourth of July with mötley

You pampering mötley

You're still beautiful

🥀Terror Twins x Reader💣

Terror Twins x Reader hc's 1

Terror twins x Reader hc's 2

Terror Twins x reader hc's 3

Terror Twins x reader hc's 4

Terror Twins x reader hc's 5

Terror Twins x reader hc's 6

Sick!Terror Twins x reader hc's

My turn

So, so good

Cuddle..sex?

Calm down, ey?

(y'all are so hungry for Terror Twins omg...)

Hanoi Rocks

🌚Razzle🌝

Late night kisses

🕸️Sami Yaffa🕸️

NSFW Alphabet

Such a tease, huh?

KISS

💫Paul Stanley💫

Snow

Guns n Roses

🎩Slash🐍

Do you love me more?

They fell asleep with your kid

❤️Axl Rose💋

They fell asleep with your kid

Axl x Kurt Cobian sister!Reader hc's

NSFW Alphabet

Cold baby?

Bad day?

🎸Duff McKagan🎸

They fell asleep with your kid

🚬Izzy Stradlin🚬

Sick as a dog

Sweetheart

They fell asleep with your kid

🍿Steven Adler🍿

The, fell asleep with your kid

Paradise City

NSFW Alphabet

Megadeth

🍃Dave Mustaine🍃

Your not my baby

Tour rat

NSFW Alphabet

Dating Dave head cannons

Call of Duty (COD)

🦴Alex Keller🦴

Coming soon!!

🖤Simon "ghost" Riley🖤

Reader with sensory issues

💣König💣

Dating him head cannons

Roommate könig

🧼John "Soap" Mactavish🧼

Coming soon!!

🌜Farah Karim🌛

Coming soon!!

🥃John Price🥃

Coming soon!!

🦎Nikto🦎

Red Dead Redemption (2)

Coming soon!!

🦌Arthur Morgan🦌

If they were parents

🦬Charles Smith🦬

If they were parents

🃏Dutch Van Der Linde🃏

If they were parents

🐀Micah Bell🐀

If they were parents 2

🎸Javier Escuella🎸

If they were parents

🐎Kieran Duffy🐎

If they were parents 2

🐺John Marston🐺

Coming soon!!

🖤Jack Marston🖤 (1911)

If they were parents 2

🪶Eagle Flies🪶

Coming soon!!

🍷Molly 0'Shea🍷

If they were parents

🔪Sadie Adler🔪

If they were parents

🪻Abigail Roberts🪻

Coming soon!!

☘️Sean Macguire☘️

If they were parents 2

Character x Character

Coming soon!!

[scarfacemarston]

Z,q and B prompt list for Charles? Love how you write him,so thank you if you do!

Thank you so much! I appreciate you. <3 Prompt here! B - Best Friend (what are they like as a best friend?) Charles as a best friend is actually quite different than a romantic partner! I think it takes him longer to get silly with an s.o. than a best friend. The epilogue shows us what a happy Charles looks like with John. Charles' friendship with Arthur was during a very strained and serious time. He's happier to do things quietly in companionable silence rather than talking, but if you're friends with him, you already know that. He appreciates people that don't try to force him to interact if he doesn't have the energy. . If you're stressed, sometimes he prefers to take you out with him somewhere rather than talk. However, he is great at giving advice and can be hilarious He's loyal to a fault. He's actually a lot of fun and is great at trolling people. He is sometimes fun when drunk and canonically gives piggy back rides.  Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget? ) The quiet types are usually great at remembering details because they listen. Charles is no different. He is the type that will bring up details that even you forgot. However, his memory isn't perfect. He's more likely to forget things when he's stressed. His mind holds so many things that sometimes things just go "poof".

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) This boy snores. I'm sorry, friends. It's bad snoring, too. HOWEVER, John and Arthur canonically snore as well. (I've posted the audio clips). Still, it is LOUD out there in dreamland.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hi! I love your writing a whole bunch and was wondering if you’d maybe be up to writing something with a really talkative and openly affectionate reader who tends to go into long rants about the most mundane things (just a big old blabbermouth), and Charles who actually finds most of the blabbering entertaining and endearing. Some sort of romance thing between them but not really??? Idk but tihihi yeah 🤞🏽😜 and if it could be a fem reader maybe? or gender neutral it doesn’t really matter. Thank you!!

Lovers Rock 

(Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Fluff)

I have an affinity towards writing Charles as an awkward and self conscious guy when it comes to you and his crush. Also I made this a little too romantic oops .

Warnings: none

Horseshoe Overlook, New Hanover, had scarcely been more than a large opening on a cliff side in the past, overlooking thick forests and open fields. The opening had been shaded by a handful of large, spreading oaks, and foliage of all types scattered on the ground; so much so that anyone intruding the camp would be immediately given away by the crunching of brittle twigs and dry leaves. Yet the once empty overlook was now bustling with work and chatter, horses and chickens, campfire songs and lighthearted games, tents occupied by well-meaning people and bountiful wagons. 

The move had been a well welcomed adjustment, one the gang had practically thrown themselves at out of desperation. Being figuratively holed up in Colter had been hell on earth. And the burning sensation your fingertips and nose felt as they began to warm up from the temperature change was a small sign of better things coming your way. Yet despite the constant moves around the nation, you did not complain once. In fact, you somehow managed to constantly keep your spirits up. As well as the spirits of a few of the other gang members. You were what the others would call a social butterfly. You never did quite run out of things to talk about. And why would you, things were always happening around you, and you were a very observational person.

Many members of the gang also found it incredibly intriguing that your best company was Charles, given he was such a reserved man who didn't say too much. How a talkative girl like you found herself blabbering away at such a quiet man like Charles was beyond them. But your bond was created over your ranting and his listening. Something the two of you found very endearing. You, in the way Charles looked at you with such endearment when you spoke, humming occasionally and nodding at you to signify he was listening. And him, in the way he found your constant rants about everything and nothing to be so interesting, no matter how mundane. And he revered your conversational and observation skills with what could only be described as admiration.The two of you were completely opposites. And you complimented each other quite well.

There was also you and your lack of understanding of personal space. The way you would grab a hold of Charles' arm, barely able to close your hands around his bicep. Leaning in extremely close into him to get a better look at whatever he was doing. Hugging him unabashedly in a way that left him sweating, awkwardly hovering his arms around you before stiffly returning the hug. Charles usually kept his cool, yes, but when it came to you, he was no smooth talker. His lack of proper responses to your rants could be attributed to both wanting to just listen to you talk out of pure adoration, and being unable to find his footing in a conversation with you in fear of sounding like a fool. He cared deeply for your openness with him, yet he also found himself strangely concerned with the way he came off as well. 

"Here you go!" You had approached Charles with a multitude of herbs in your basket (the same basket Charles had so skillfully weaved for you), as well as a small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked yourself. You had occupied yourself this morning by going exploring around the woods surrounding Horseshoe Overlook and foraging for anything you could find. When Charles did decide to continue the conversation on his end, you'd often hear him mention the herbs he needed for his weaponry or tonics. You'd scribble down whatever it was he needed to the best of your memory, and would surprise him with a bushel of herbs every now and then.

He took the basket from your arms, cupping the underside of it with one hand and grasping the handle with the other. 

"You got all this for me?" His voice had a tinge of disbelief, genuinely impressed you'd been able to locate everything for him. Perhaps he had underestimated your gathering skills. Not to mention, he was incredibly moved you'd gone out of your way to pick these all for him. It was no easy task. And your efforts were evident in the crumbs of dirt that stuck to your palms and knees, the dirt and grass stains on your dress, a scratch on your elbow, and a few leaves atop your head that he found absolutely adorable. And how could he possibly gloss over the bouquet of flowers. The implications were that they were his, but he still had to ask. 

"A-And these?" He cleared his throat to disguise the stutter. 

"For you, silly!" You smiled warmly at him, patting his arm. He nearly choked when you took his hand gently into yours, the sheer size difference making his brain short circuit. You led him to a boulder that sat on the overlook; the same rock you two would always sit on and talk. 

"Oh god Charles! What a day I've had!" You began. Charles knew this marked the beginning of one of your long rants. Truly, the highlight of his day. 

"First off, you know how hard it was to escape Miss Grimshaw this morning?! I thought I woke up early enough but nope! She was up well before me." You groaned. Charles chuckled and nodded in acknowledgement, occupying himself by picking up the bouquet of flowers off the rest of the herbs. Some of the stems had begun to wilt from the heat of the day, becoming muddy and dark in color, but he treasured them nonetheless. He’d make a mental note to press them later, and to teach you how in the process.

“I convinced her to let me go from camp work by saying I was going to go collect things for camp. Which technically… I did..” You giggled, motioning towards the basket. Your body language as you spoke signified how open you were. Your moved your arms animatedly and faced your palms towards him as you spoke, emphasizing any emotion behind the story. Not to mention you turned your body to face him as you spoke; your knees would touch one another and you’d be too engrossed in your story telling to notice it, but Charles certainly did. He returned any gestures, but most importantly, he held eye contact with you. Which was incredibly important to the both of you. 

Somewhere in between Charles staring at you longingly and leaning forward in a display of attentiveness, you had begun discussing your trip into town, and how you’d made note of the strange looks some of the towns people would give you for looking so grimy, especially for a woman. Charles made another mental note to return those dirty looks next time he went into town with you.

“Oh god, and then when I was at the general store I greeted Mr. Worth, and he ended up giving me a free chocolate bar! He said he was thinking about moving out west and quitting Valentine. How sad.” Your happiness over the free sweet was quickly replaced with a pout. 

“That’s a shame.” He commented. He was abashed over his lack of words, but you didn’t seem to mind as you continued. 

“I know right! Oh and also, did you see this scratch I got?” You lifted your elbow in his direction to show him. He moved his hands forward to gently take ahold of your forearm and study the cut but you moved your arm away before he could. 

“Oh don’t worry, it's just a flesh wound.” You reassured, feeling touched by his obvious concern for you. “I ended up tripping over a tree root while walking down a steep landing, fell face first! I tried to catch myself with my elbows but I just skidded down further.” Your face burned at the retelling of your ungraceful fall. But before long, you had found yourself going on a tangent about how much you struggled to find the specific types of herbs Charles needed. 

As he continued to listen to you, Charles began to think to himself how he didn’t necessarily need to force himself to speak when not needed. You were happy being listened to, and he was happy listening to you; not many people around camp would’ve been content as he was just sitting there and listening to you talk endlessly about things that happened to you or things you noticed. How he felt such tenderness for you in that moment. The twinkle in your eyes, the unruly straggle of your hair upon your neck with each movement, the way you occasionally brushed his arm with laughter that turned to snorts, the openness of your heart as you spilled yourself onto him. 

And in that moment, he knew you were the apple of his eyes.

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Lovers Rock - TV Girl

[unmaskthewriter]

Home {Charles Smith x Native!Reader}

A/N: This story went through so many ideas. I couldn’t decide, especially because I just feel like my writing isn’t good enough right now, especially bc I try to keep my writing short bc I am not creative enough for long stories and I’m stretching for ideas because I love to write. Thinking about taking requests. Also reader is gender neutral. Might edit this to be an OC fic later on. Also I apologize if this is a little OOC. It’s my first time writing for Charles.

Warnings: canon typical violence, fluff, angst, mourning/grieving, canon character death

Word Count: 1.8k

1899

You met him one afternoon when he entered the reservation to speak with your father and brother. He was a dark skinned man with a long, black braid down the center of his scalp, ending towards the middle of his back. You were sitting alongside your father.

“Father, when will we draw the line? They’ve stolen our horses, they attack our women—“ Eagles Flies ranted.

“Enough, son. We can have our horses returned without fighting.” Rains Fall tried to dissuade his son. You made eye contact with the strange man.

“Rains Fall is right. I will not start a fight over some horses.” He spoke firmly. Eagle Flies lets out a frustrated sigh, storming from the tent. You quickly follow, witnessing through the flaps of the tent as Eagle Flies mounts the strange man’s horse and rides off into the night.

“He stole your horse.” You state plainly, a small smirk playing at your lips.

“My child, please take Charles Smith and find your brother. He is running toward a dangerous situation.” Rains Fall explains from across the tent. So, Charles is his name.

“I know, Father.” You nod and lead Charles to the hitching posts. In front of you stood a tall, warped brindle Arabian.

“Kiona.” You spoke softly, drawing a carrot from your satchel and feeding her. Quickly mountain, Charles mounts behind you.

“A beautiful horse.” He compliments as you follow the trail out of the reservation.

“Found her just outside the reservation. Tamed her myself.” You smile, lightly gripping the reins. Silence passes.

“What do you think about living here… on the reservation, I mean?” He questions.

“It’s not terrible… but my people have suffered. If I could help them escape, I would but with the U.S Army breathing down our necks, it’s impossible,” You respond, “My brother has good intentions, he just… doesn’t always think things through… why don’t you tell me about yourself, Mr. Smith?”

“I know a few men like that,” Charles chuckled, “and please, call me Charles. Mr. Smith is my father. My mother was Indian, and my father a black man. We lived with her people for some time, until one day, some men took her and never came back… my father was never the same after that.”

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.” You respond quietly, a frown tearing at the edges of your lips. Up ahead, Charles spotted his horse on the edge of a camp. After reuniting with Eagle Flies in the camp that Charles and his friends inhabited, your brother gathered a small party to reclaim the stolen horses.

“Arthur, we must go with them… to try to stop things from getting… out of hand.”

“I guess… come along. We can get them more horses.” The older man, Arthur, agreed. Charles turned to you, placing a hand to your shoulder.

“Please, return to your father. We will get the horses back.” Charles reassures you.

“Do not worry about the horses, just bring my brother home safe.”

“I promise.” Charles nods to you before mounting his horse and following the others into the night. You did as Charles had asked, and waited at the reservation for the return of your brother.

Hours passed before you witnessed Eagles Flies, Paytah and Charles leading the horses back into the reservation. Rains Fall watches from the entrance of his tent as you approach the group.

“Don’t run off like that again.” You tell Eagles Flies as you wrap your arms around his slender frame. He chuckles, returning the hug.

“Do not worry about me, little one. I am the one who has to protect you.” He spoke softly before pulling away and walking towards your father. You looked at Charles who stood back a few feet. He mounts his horse as you approach.

“Thank you, Charles… for bringing my brother back safely. I’m… my people are indebted to you.” You declare, gently taking his hand. He squeezes it gently before pulling away and leaving.

You should have expected the U.S Army would retaliate.

They came in the night under the cover of darkness, capturing young men and women of the tribe, you amongst them. With a sack pulled over your head and hands and feet bound with tight rope, you couldn’t see or move. All you could feel was the butt of the gun smashing against your head and knocking you unconscious.

For hours, you drift to and from unconsciousness. The sack had been removed from your head, but you were still bound, suspended from the ceiling. Occasionally, soldiers would come and land a few punches and kicks, trying to elicit a response before giving up.

It wasn’t long before you could hear shouting and… gunfire? You hang there, looking around drearily. One of your eyes was swollen shut, bottom lip busted and bruises littering your frame.

“They’re in here!” A familiar voice shouted and weakly you lifted your head to see Charles breaking the lock on the door. He rushes to your side, carefully cutting the ropes to release you. Swiftly, you fell to the ground with a small groan.

“I’m sorry, come on. Are you alright to walk?”

“… ‘m fine.. where’s my brother?” You asked as Charles wrapped an arm around you and helped you to walk.

“Don’t worry, Arthur has him… come on, let’s get out of here.” He encourages you, mounting his horse and carefully lifting you up. You sit behind him, slumped against him. A gunfight ensues during the escape, but you’re too tired and weak to care.

“Alright, we’re at the river. Let’s get you in a canoe.” His sweet voice explains to you, carefully lifting you from the horse and placing you down in the canoe. You laid back against the seat, too tired to sit up.

“Are they okay?” A voice called out as you closed your eyes.

“We just need to-“

And you were out cold.

It was midday when you awoke, the sunlight bleeding in from the tent flaps. You look around slowly, noticing your bloody clothes had been removed, and replaced with a clean tanned leather dress. Underneath, you were bandaged. You could barely see from your left eye, and upon licking your lips you tasted old blood.

“You’re awake.” Charles entered the tent, kneeling down beside you.

“How long was I out?” You ask, gently rubbing your temple as you sit up. He extends a cup of water, to which you graciously accept.

“Half a day. You were beaten up pretty bad. Eagle Flies is okay, he’s recovering.” Charles answered any questions you’d have. You relax slightly as you drink the water he provided. A moment passes between you both.

“Eagle Flies will not let this go, Charles.” You tell him, setting the cup down on the small nightstand.

“I know, I know… just rest now. It’ll be alright.” He comforts you as you lay back down on the bed to rest and recover.

Days had passed before you and Eagle Flies had recovered from your wounds. You returned to your duties, helping the sick and elderly. It wasn’t long before Eagle Flies demanded justice for those who were hurt by the U.S Army.

“Today, we ride! No longer will we be abused and killed by the Army, for sport, for oil!” He shouted, leading a small war party from camp. You watched as father looked on with a frown before mounting his own horse, and following.

It was a quiet day within the reservation. Eagle Flies had fled with some of the brave warriors of the tribe to strike the heart of the tribe’s issues — Cornwall Kerosene and Tar.

He’s your brother, although sometimes it doesn’t feel as though that’s the case. While he was brave and headstrong, you were more calm and peaceful like your father.

With the galloping of hooves outside, you and your father emerge from the tent. Arthur, pale and sickly, dismounts his horse while Charles follows, carefully helping Eagle Flies down from the horse. You take a small step forward, frowning.

“Bring him to me.” Your father commanded, watching as your brother was transported to the small enclosure. You follow, sitting down beside your father as the men carefully place Eagle Flies down. Rains Fall takes hold of his son’s hand as you place a gentle hand to your brother’s cheek. Tears begin to roll.

“My son.” Rains Fall whispered as his son took his final breath. You sobbed, leaning over your brother’s body. Arthur and Charles left the tent, speaking amongst themselves for a moment.

“I’m sorry, but we must pack and move…”

1907

With the changing of the seasons and the passing of the years, you grew into a young adult. It was shortly after the tribe’s arrival in Canada that Charles Smith left to return to his friends.

“Charles, please, wait!” You call out, following him to his horse. You pull something from your satchel, holding it out to him. It was a trinket adorned with a small moose antler with a coyote fang on one end, and a cougar fang on the other, “Take this.”

Charles carefully takes the trinket, examining the craftsmanship before looking at you, “Thank you. This is… amazing.”

“You are one of us.” You reassure him as he puts on the trinket, mounting his horse. He leans down, taking your hand and squeezing gently.

“Until we meet again.” He tells you before releasing your hand and riding off.

It didn’t take you much longer to leave as well, the pain of your brother’s loss being too much to bear. You wandered across the states, never staying in one place for too long. Your mind often wandered to all those years ago, the people you met, and the people you lost. No matter where you traveled, you always felt like something was missing, never feeling at home. Saint Denis was never your cup of tea, but it was a good place to gather supplies and clean up. The sound of a trumpet filled the streets between the random conversations throughout town and noises from the railroad you had overheard. You were standing outside the post office, sliding a letter over the desk.

“To Rains Fall in Canada,” You mention as you glance to your right for a moment. In the distance, two familiar men were crossing the cobblestones street to the docks. Quickly, you pay the man in the window before leading Kiona to the men.

“Charles?” You called out softly, slowly releasing Kiona’s reins. He stopped, and turned on his heel to face you. He looked different — his hair was no longer shaved and braided but instead splayed freely around his shoulders. He wore a collared shirt and vest that had seen better days. There were some bruises and scarring to his face and knuckles but he was still the man you met all those years ago. Before you knew it, you both were running toward each other to embrace. He lifts you into his arms, taking a slow, deep breath.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” You cry quietly, remembering all too well the day he left.

“I’m here now.” He spoke softly into your neck, his hot breath hitting your soft skin.

Home wasn’t with the tribe. Home didn’t have four walls and a roof. Home was in his arms, you knew that now.

[mentally-a-slut]

Do you do scenarios or headcanons? If so, how many characters can we request for scenarios or headcanons? Would you do the same prompt with different characters? Can we request for gender neutral reader? Are there any topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc? Do you do poly ships x reader? Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily? Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex? Would you do NSFW requests? For Baldur's Gate 3 requests, would you mind if we don't specify the race/class to leave it ambiguous or if we ask specify the race/class like human/healer? What kinks would you accept for requests? Thank you in advance!

The specific format I will write in is not really decided, I usually just start writing and see where it takes me. I would love to do multiple characters for the same prompt, but the characters I will right for as of right now are very limited simply because I have not yet familiarized myself with their character. Currently I will write for Gale (BG3), Arthur Morgan and Charles Smith (RDR2), and Harvey (Stardew Valley.)

If you request gender neutral reader I can try my best, but if you want a smutty story with gn reader it would get difficult. I am open to doing AFAB gn reader for smut, so the reader would have fem body parts but would be referred to with they/them pronouns. If you wanted a fluffy piece that doesn't require the descriptions of certain body parts, the reader will not be specified as AFAB and could be imagined with male features. If you would like a work around to this, I will take requests that specify the 'reader' or OC you describe, which I would be open to doing gn and possibly male readers.

The things that are strict no's for me are not really clear, but I can list a few that I know I will never do. I will never write for rape/noncon, suicide, self harm, or anything along those lines. As I go on, I will make it clear what I will/won't write as requests come in.

The only poly ship I am open to doing right now is Arthur x Charles x reader. I would love to do other pairings in the future, but I only have the experience of this ship right now. However, I am up to trying pretty much anything! If you have an idea for a poly ship that you would like me to try and write, I can certainly attempt.

I love AUs, and I am a huge fix it fic writer. I hate sad endings and I would absolutely love to write happy AUs. Other AUs are also welcome, including (but not limited to) soulmate AUs. If you want to see me write something, just send an ask! Never hesitate to ask me questions and I will e happy to communicate with you.

I write smut, and I love doing it! Don't be afraid of sending smutty asks or requests. There are some kinks I'm not open to or just don't understand, but the usual things you would see in smuts are things I am down to write. For more intense or specific kinks, it would depend, but you'll just have to ask and we can figure something out!

For BG3 requests, if you want an ambiguous reader, that's totally fine, but depending on the request I might need more details. I love when people send specific details in a request, especially character/reader descriptions. Overall, I love doing specific requests, but will do vague ones as well. Just be aware that I may have to take some liberties and specify some things to make it work.

For kinks, I don't plan on doing anything with scat or stuff like that, and I won't do noncon. Dubcon is iffy, I'm honestly not sure and it would depend on the context. Kinks that I will for sure write are size kinks and choking. I am not comfy writing DDLG or daddy kink stuff, just a little iffy for me.

To be honest, all of this is subject to change the more y'all request, so please don't hesitate! No harm in asking questions, and I would be happy to answer them!

Thanks so much for the questions, Anon, and I hope I clarified some stuff for you!

[softrozene]

“Please Don’t Leave Me.” - Charles

From an old event I did called the Sad Yee Haw Hours: 

Anon asked: “Please don’t leave me.” But it’s coming from Charles 😱 

rdr2 masterlist

I can’t change it to fluff I can’t change it to fluff I can’t change it fluff I can’t change it to fluff  

Sweet, sweet, anon. I thought this one was going to be a piece of cake before I realized that making Charles hurt intentionally hurts me LMAO. So A+ for you. I struggled so badly not to put any fluff. Enjoy!

Originally published on May 16, 2020

Charles Smith x Reader (Gender-Neutral/Non-Binary)

Scenario Starter Number 10: “Please don’t leave me.”

Warnings: Angst, I have sinned for making Charles sad, this was the ultimate request that has done me dirty and it is only an average amount of angst lmao

Words: ~500

-

“Please don’t leave me.”

As the words leave him he grabs your wrist so gently. His fingertips already rubbing soothing circles along your inner wrist. It makes your heart stop. Your whole body is begging you to stay with him. Your soul feels like it is crying for him.

You are visibly shaking as you decide to test him one more time. “Are you going to stop fighting?”

You dare to look at him. He looks conflicted and mostly saddened by your threat and attempt to leave. His lips open to say something before he closes them tightly. The tears finally fall from your eyes as you laugh.

“I figured as much. You always said it was ‘us’ in the relationship yet you have never chosen me. When I asked you to leave the gang you chose them. Now you are participating in fights? The Charles I know would never do something this stupid,” You murmur.

His grip tightens for a moment but he is aware that this is a losing battle. He fucked up by not listening to you.

“I have always done what I could to protect you,” He whispers.

His voice trembles as he tries to conceal his emotions. It’s always hard for him when it concerns you though. You give him a sad smile.

“I always appreciated you protecting me. I want to stay but I can’t while you give in to whatever this is. It’s not like you and you don’t wish to stop so I must go,” You whisper back.

You move to hold his hand with your free one and he takes it. His fingers already trying to memorize the way you feel. His eyes are misty and his lip keeps trembling. It is the most you have ever seen him give emotion besides your past intimate moments with him.

“I’ll write to you,” You say moving the wrist he is holding.

He slowly let’s go of it and just stares at you. You peck the hand you are holding and he quickly says, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Charles,” You reply.

It’s not enough and he knows this. You finally let go of him and pick up your bag. As your fingertips touch the door he tries again. This time his voice completing lacking any strength he had once possessed.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You almost break but instead, you say once more, “I’ll write to you.”

You leave out the door and the two of you finally let your visions blur with tears. You were supposed to be the person who would never leave him. Charles yearns to run after you but the logical and composed side of him knows you are right. He hasn’t been the same since the gang split and he needs to find peace with your decision even if it fucking hurts like hell.