#ask the taima

[covencodex]

Hello, I was wondering if i could have permission to create libraries for dicecloud v2 character maker. I am attempting to make a big homebrews of the internet pack with even some of my own libraries (a drider race) and I know even with properly linking is not enough to give credit. Thank you and have a lovely day

Hello, thank you for asking!

I'd be happy to see my races and subclasses and the like in a library of the sort, but it's a bit tricky to give permission to someone asking anonymously. 😅

Send me an ask off-anon or dm and I'll get back to you! My personal tumblr is @taimaland.

[ososull]

you said that being Dragonborn is Taima’s worst nightmare, and the corresponding comic is gorgeous. can you elaborate? thank you!

Of course!! Thank you so much btw!! I love exploring this concept.

The Dragonborn is someone who has both the blood and the soul of a dragon. To Taima, this is super distressing, because it’s a signifier that she’s inherently separated from personhood in a way.

She lacks a human, mortal soul, which she finds disturbing. Many in Tamriel (and just many cultures in general) view our souls as encapsulations of our entire beings- learning that your “entire being” is that of a different species whose tyranny you’re fighting to end would be dysphoric for her to say the least.

Additionally, it’s always said that a Dragonborn appears in times of great need to vanquish evil- Taima was a simple hunter and forager before finding out she was Dragonborn. She enjoyed her quiet, rustic life, and suddenly she’s told that she doesn’t have a human soul AND that the world will live and die by her actions.

It makes her question everything- when she’s talking to her friends, Lucien, Kaidan, Inigo, Taliesin, etc, she always has this sinking feeling of “What if we see the world entirely different and I never would have known it because I’m not a ‘real person’”, “Am I a danger to them”, “Am I just pretending to be a person”, etc.

She IS a real person but that’s just her perspective on it lol!

[catbread0]

Hi !! Id like to request for kusuriuri!<3 a fic of him with gn reader where the reader loves foxes, sturdiest kitsune and knows a lot about him, and messes with him with the knowledge, even teases him about his.. magazines (YK those 🌽 magazines) knowing his kitsune are horny creatures, overall they genuinely do love foxes and kitsunes though and love caressing his hair and face

Ri-Kusuriuri x Reader

This was fun writing! I hope you will enjoy reading it! I'm very sorry for an mistakes!

(*≧∀≦)

words: 1,003

fluff and very brief smut

Mononoke (2007) Masterlist

Knowledgeable on Kits

When you first met Ri-Kusuriuri, you already knew most of his characteristics. You could almost read him like a book. 

Not many people can immediately tell that Ri is a kitsune. Sure, they say that he looks weird and off-putting. But no one exposed him immediately; it was only after they saw his Taima no ken.

Of course, because of that, Ri was amused with you. He asked you to accompany him on his journey of slaying Mononoke and selling medicine.

You had agreed, and your journey with him started.

As you both continued to know more about each other, he realized how knowledgeable you are when it comes to kitsunes and foxes. You knew a lot about kitsunes being the messengers from Inari, the God of rice, agriculture, and success. 

Each day, he was more intrigued by your knowledge. 

Today, you were both staying in a small inn, and you were both relaxing on the engawa. When suddenly a little Japanese red fox appeared from a nearby bush.

Ri watched you as you slowly walked towards the small fox and started petting it. He was preparing himself to pull you away in case the mother of the kit attacked you. He knew how mother foxes can be aggressive when it comes to their kits.

To his shock, 2 more kits jumped out, and the mother of the kits came out as well.

You started to pet the other 2, but the first one started to pull on your kimono for your attention again. Soon, the kits started to play-fight each other and even you, or at least try to with your hand or pull your kimono. The mother fox lays comfortably as she watches her kits play fight with you.

You turned your head to Ri, “Ri come! Look at how cute they are! And they are so soft!”

Ri was still shocked but shook it off and walked towards you. He crouched down to the kits, and soon, they started to play fight with his hand as well. 

A small smile formed on his face, “I surely thought you would get attacked by their mother. I guess there's still more I need to learn about you.”

You both kept playing with the kits as you told Ri some facts about foxes. He would even talk about his knowledge of them as well.

After some time, the foxes left, due to it becoming night. You were upset when you and Ri entered back into your inn. But that's when you realized that the kits had torn and dirtied your kimono. While they were minor holes, they were still visible for people to see.

“Why don't you change into your yukata, and I’ll try and fix the holes they left with the materials I have in my box,” he suggested.

You were grateful for his offer and nodded. You went into the bathroom to change out of your kimono and flooded it neatly, put on the yukata, and slid your kimono past the door. Once that was done, you went back to fixing your yukata and preparing to go to sleep. 

After a few minutes, you exited the bathroom and went to where you and Ri's futons were. You saw that Ri had patched up most of the holes. 

You were bored and decided to look into his box, curious about what else he had. Soon, you opened a drawer that had multiple shunga’s. In all honesty, you weren't surprised. You knew that kitsunes were known to sometimes be lustful creatures.

You picked one up, “You know it's not surprising for you kitsunes to have these. But aren’t you a bit embarrassed to have these near me?”

“Not at all. If you already knew, then there would be no point in hiding it. Besides, maybe one day you would want to learn more than just foxes and kitsunes. I wouldn’t mind helping at all.” He answered with his monotone voice and with a smirk as he eyed you.

You smack the back of his head with the shunga in your hand, “Don't say stuff like that.”

You put back the shunga and sat behind Ri and started playing with his hair. You comb your fingers through his long, dirty blond hair. It was calming to both of you.

You two spent a few more minutes in comfortable silence as you continued to caress his hair. After some time, you ended up on his lap as he supported you by holding your hips.

You were caressing his face. This was the first time you'd felt his face. And surprisingly it’s somewhat soft yet still rough.

You then made eye contact with him. That's when you realized how awkward the position appeared. You immediately got off of him and said goodnight before going into your futon.

How bold were you!? Not thinking about how it would look before it happened!?

But he didn't look like he had anything negative to say. He could have told you quickly since he's usually always blunt.

Little did you know he did enjoy having his face caressed by you. And he did have to admit, it was nice holding you by the hips and having you close.

Bonus♡:

You heard that a common fear among kitsunes are dogs. Most kitsunes when they see a dog and are scared of it, they would turn back into a fox and run away.

You were curious and wanted to see if this applied to Ri. 

You both were walking a dirt path when you heard a dog bark. You looked back and saw a dog running towards you both.

You looked at Ri, expecting something to happen. But to your disappointment nothing, not even a small reaction.

The dog just barked and then ran back to where it came from.

You let out a sigh of defeat that doesn't go unnoticed.

“You're correct about kitsunes being afraid of dogs. But just like humans, some have fewer or more fears than others.”

Taima no ken (1) - Sword of exorcism

Engawa (2) - A traditional Japanese architecture

Kit(s) (3) - Another way of saying pups/cubs to baby foxes

Shunga (4) - Magazine filled with Japanese art tradition of erotic imagery

~Lilly's

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Obvious signs, oblivious people (Charles Smith x fem!reader)

Part 1

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: pre-canon, she/her pronouns, semi-public sex, oral, he pulls out, riding, doggy style, unprotected sex, fingering

Someone grabs you by your wrist, pulling you behind one of the wagons that are standing around camp and your back is being pushed against the wood. A chuckle escapes you as you look up at Charles, who's smiling down at you mischievously.

"Hey, you.", he murmurs before capturing your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth and brushes over yours.

Your hands move up to grab the collar of his blue button up shirt and you give it a light tug. It's been good between the two of you, amazing even. Every now and then he steals you away for a few moments to kiss you senseless and then leaves you standing there, yearning for more.

A week has passed ever since your first kiss in the forest and he has yet to 'love you proper' as he said that night. The dreams have become worse in a good way, serving as sweet reminder of what's yet to come. Your mind is haunted by images of Charles holding your hips tightly while his dick slides in and out of you.

The thought alone sends a wonderful shiver down your spine and you rub your thighs together without noticing, everytime it comes up. Though right now, at this exact moment, you're unable to conjure up anything within your mind with the way his lips claim yours. His large hands are holding onto your waist, their warmth seeping through your clothes and into your skin.

His large, burly body covers yours like a shield and you tug at his shoulders, aware that he can effortlessly slip out of your grasp again. Exactly like he does right now and you have to stifle a frustrated whine. His fingers dance over the side of your face.

"You got anything planned today?", he then asks and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"Nothing aside from my usual work. Why?"

"I spoke to Dutch.", he tells you, his low voice sending a pleasant heat through your body. "Said I would need you for a job."

As the true meaning of his words starts to sink in, you bite down on the inside of your cheeks to prevent the huge grin from spreading on your face. Of course you're excited. It's all you have been thinking about lately, but it's almost embarrassing how eager you are to jump on his dick.

"And he's okay with us riding out?" Without noticing it, you have raised your voice a little and he quickly shushes you.

"Yes."

"When are we leaving?" The question shoots out of you like a bullet.

"I'll get Taima ready and then we can go."

The two of you leave shortly after. A light breeze tugs at your clothes and you lean your cheek against his back, breathing in his familiar scent. It's nice to be away again and holding onto him like that. This time you don't have to worry about crossing a line and you let your fingers dance over his chest and stomach.

Charles takes you to a remote spot in the woods. It's an even clearing with a lake next to it and you slide off Taima's back. Your lips curl up into a teasing smirk as you turn around to look at him.

"You didn't want me against a tree, but out here is fine?", you ask in a joking way and he shakes his head with an amused smile.

"I wanted to spend some time alone with you.", he answers, placing his large hands on your waist. His thumb is tracing circles over the fabric of your blouse. "Without all the others."

You raise your eyebrow in curiosity as you wrap your arms around his neck and lock eyes with him. "So you will take me on this field now, Mr. Smith?"

"Do you want me to?"

The question sends a comfortable heat to your lower stomach and all sorts of images rush through your mind. Granted, it is a mighty pleasant thought, doing it out here with him. It's open, but far away enough from to the road to avoid anyone catching the two of you. Much to your surprise, he pulls away suddenly and starts unloading some stuff from the saddle bags.

"I meant it when I said I want to spend time with you. I was thinking about setting up a camp here and then get back to the others in the morning.", he tells you over his shoulder. "If that's alright with you?"

"Of course."

With that you walk to stand by his side and take some of the equipment from him. The two of you quickly set up a small tent and a campfire. Charles had brought some food for you both to cook up. All this feels so domestic and peaceful, having you dream a different kind of dream for once.

Suddenly you begin to picture yourself living in a cozy cabin with him, away from the violence and crime. It's a bitter-sweet fantasy, but that's all it is. A fantasy.

"You good?", Charles asks, ripping you out of your thoughts.

The sun is starting to set, casting a deep red color over grass and water.

"Yes. Just thinking.", you answer, sounding far away.

A hand touches your cheek and when you turn to look at him, all you see is a worried mask.

"If you're having doubts about this, then we don't have to do anything." His voice is soft, soothing. It never fails to put you at ease. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this."

Quickly you shake your head and lean closer to him, your lips hovering closely over his.

"I want this, Charles." A quick and easy smile finds it's way on your mouth and he returns it.

Next thing you know, he's kissing you and absolutely taking your breath away with it too. It's both rough and tender, a mix between lust and love. Both your chest and lower stomach heat up at the action and you part your lips to let his warm tongue slide in.

A low groan escapes his throat and he gently pushes you down onto the grass. Feeling his strong muscles over you like this sends jolts of excitement through your body. Charles makes himself comfortable between your legs as he continues kissing you senseless. Something hard brushes the inside of your thigh and you immediately feel your underwear becoming soaking wet.

His big hands roam your body, tugging at your clothes and squeezing whatever he can. Meanwhile your own fingers are busy unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his toned cheat to you. It sure is a sight for sore eyes and he chuckles when he catches you gawking at him as if he's some kind of dessert.

Quickly, he pulls back to get rid of the opened piece of clothing and rests his hands on the hem of your blouse. There is a question written all over his face and before he can voice it, you smile up at him reassuringly.

"What are you waiting for?", you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows, so that he can reach the buttons easier.

Soon your own chest is out as well and you can't help the sense of pride boiling up inside you from his reaction. The way he stares at you in awe fills you with more confidence than anything ever before and you catch his lips in a desperate kiss. It doesn't take long until you two are fully naked and now you're laying beneath him, both body and soul exposed to him.

One of his hands trails down your stomach until it stops between your legs. You let out a soft moan when his thumb makes contact with your aching clit. Once he begins to rub it in slow circles, you arch your back and you clasp a hand over your mouth. Though Charles grabs your wrist and pulls it away.

"Don't hide your voice.", he says, his voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine. "I want to hear it."

Then he continues playing with your clit until you whine and squirm under him. With each passing heartbeat, you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. Right as you think you're going to burst, his thumb retreats and you make a frustrated noise at the loss of contact. His lips curl up into a knowing smirk, but before you can comment on it, he lowers his head.

Anticipation shoots through your veins when his lips hover over your pussy and you feel his hot breath hitting it. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider apart and a filthy moan escapes you when he licks over your wet folds. An embarrassingly short while later, he has you on the verge of coming again, his tongue working wonders on you.

It swirls around your swollen clit, accompanied by him occasionally sucking at it. The moment he slides in his fingers and curls them up inside, you're just a hot mess. Your hands are buried in his long hair, pulling harder than you intend to, but he doesn't mind. He loves it, in fact. He loves how you're falling apart under his touch.

Your gasps and moans fill the evening air, most likely scaring off every single animal in the area. Then finally, sweet release finds you. The orgasm hits you hard as you squeeze your lovers head between your thighs and your eyes roll back. Charles guides you through it, letting your ride out your high on his mouth and fingers.

When he's back on eye level with you, you pull him down for a long kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"How are you feeling?", he asks you, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"Drained.", you answer with a laugh. "And great. I feel great."

He opens his mouth to respond, but you push him off, so that he's the one on his back now. Right after that, you straddle his lap. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and you rub your dripping pussy against his shaft, stealing a low groan from him.

"Let me help you now.", you whisper and grab his dick to position him, making him hiss.

His tip pushes against you and you slowly lower yourself onto it. Charles is big, incredibly wide. The way his hardened cock stretches your pussy hurts a bit, but you manage to take it all in. He has his hands on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. You can tell he wants to move, but he's holding back with everything he has.

"You okay up there?", he speaks through heavy pants and half-lidded eyes.

"I'm perfect exactly where I am."

With that you move up and back down again. The pain is gone by now and you're left with nothing but bliss. His dick is curved in a perfect angle, the tip brushing over that sweet spot of yours. You move your hips at an agonizingly slow pace and Charles is holding onto you for dear life.

It pleases you, seeing him like this. Falling into pieces just for you. Charles isn't too big of a believer, but he could swear that he's seeing heaven right now with the way your walls clench around him. It takes every ounce of self-control within that man to not pound into you until you're a stuttering a drooling mess.

"Shit.", he hisses through gritted teeth, as you speed up. "You feel so good."

"Yeah? You like that?"

"Fuck yes."

A stream of curses leaves his lips, but then he holds you in place and you're unable to move at all. You feel his cock twitch inside you and you think for a moment that he's going to fill you up, but there's nothing coming. A few heartbeats later he relaxes his muscles again and gently pushes you off him.

"Is something wrong?" Your voice is laced with concern, but he quickly shakes his head.

"No, don't worry." Charles gets up on his knees and motions with his chin at the ground. "I just want to be able to pull out in time."

Then an idea pops up in your head. Instead of going down onto your back again, you turn away from him and go down on your hands and knees. He places his hand on your back, running it down towards your ass and he gives one of the cheeks a rough squeeze.

"You want me to take you like this?", he asks and you grin at him from over your shoulder.

"Is there a problem?"

Delight flickers in his eyes and you moan when you feel him push in his tip. "Not at all."

Although you're used to his size now, he still takes his time going in and takes a moment before moving. He pulls his hips back and rolls them forward again. Both his hands are holding your hips, keeping you in place while he fucks you senseless. His dick drills into you and you feel his thrusts become more erratic.

"I'm so close.", he murmurs in between grunts. "Shit. Fuck. You're so beautiful like this."

He showers you with praises and compliments and you claw at the grass. Something builds up in your lower stomach again and you can't focus on anything other than his cock sliding in and out of you. He's fast, but not too rough, always careful not to bruise your insides too much.

Then he pulls out and something warm hits your thighs. The loss of his heat inside you makes you whine and just as you move to roll over, his mouth is back on your pussy again. Your face is buried in his shirt, that he had tossed to the ground earlier, to muffle your moans and screams.

Still sensitive from the previous orgasm and the way his dick had fucked you only several seconds ago, it doesn't take long for you to come a second time. You basically sack to the ground from exhaustion afterwards and Charles gently caresses your back.

He leans forward and leaves a trail of kisses over your shoulders, making you hum in approval.

"I hope I didn't hurt you.", he whispers close to your ear and you roll over to your back.

"You could never."

Before he lays down next to you, he grabs a log and throws it into the fire to keep it going. Nestled into his warm and comfortable embrace, you stare at the flames as they lick at the crackling wood.

"What will we tell Dutch?", you ask and stare at him. "We won't have anything to show."

"Let that be my problem." Charles brushes his fingers over the side of your face. "I'll tell him my lead was a dead end."

"How believable.", you drawl, voice oozing with sarcasm and he laughs.

"I don't care if he believes me or not." He squeezes your shoulder and places a quick kiss on the top of your head.

You melt away in his arms, letting your sleep take you away. Tonight your dreams are a bit softer than usual, filled with a warm feeling in your chest and the sound of Charles' rich, deep laughter.

[hihomeghere]

Snowdrop | Arthur Morgan x reader x Charles Smith

Summary : You tame your first horse, Charles shows you how proud he is after ;) Follows along the series Baptized By Fire!

Word count : 3.1k

Warnings/tags : Cursing, poly!relationship, Arthur Morgan x reader x Charles Smith, smut, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, Charles wants a family and is a muncher, Charles x reader, Charthur, reader gets bucked off a horse, mention of previous abuse (reader's father)

Divider by @saradika

The early morning sun streamed in through the blinds, casting a soft orange glow over your bedroom. A perfect morning in all sense of the word. Your cheek pressed against Arthur’s warm freckled back. Feeling the rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. You shouldn’t have woken this early, Arthur and Charles were almost always up before you.

“Wake up.” Perhaps that was the reason. You groaned, prying yourself away from Arthur to glance bleary eyed up at Charles. His hand lightly shaking your shoulder. 

“Charles?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. 

“Get up.” He said, pulling the blanket off of you.

“Charles!” You whined, burying your face back into Arthur’s heat. Arthur shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around his body as he mumbled.

“We’re burning daylight.” Charles said, his large hand wrapping around your ankle as he tugged. 

“There’s hardly any daylight to burn!” You groaned, sitting up as you nearly pulled you off the bed.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He grinned, his eyes soft and warm. Your heart swelled, fighting to keep the smile that tugged at your lips at bay. It wasn’t fair, that all he had to do was smile and he could get away with anything.

“Why did you have to wake me up?” You asked, shaking your head. He cupped your face in his hands, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Get dressed.” He hummed against your skin, before walking out of the bedroom. You groaned as the door clicked shut behind him, begrudgingly sliding out of bed. You threw on some trousers and buttoned your shirt.

Arthur cracked open an eye at you, beautifully disheveled from the night before.

“How’d you deal with him alone for so long?” You teased, glancing at him.

“Hard to say.” He hummed, his words muffled against his pillow. 

“Funny how he ain’t dragging your ass outta bed, only mine.” You grumbled, but your words lacked any irritation.

“Real funny.” He mumbled, closing his eyes as he burrowed back into the sheets. 

You walked out of the bedroom, expecting to see Charles waiting for you. Instead the cabin was empty. You threw on your pair of boots and headed out the door, searching for him. You didn’t have to look far.

Charles stood at the door of the barn, leading Taima out.

“Riding lesson?” You called, walking over to him. “Thought those were over?” You asked, running your hand down Taima’s neck, giving her a gentle pack.

“No, not a riding lesson.” He smiled, chuckling softly. You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms as you tried to get a read on him.

“You’re awful chipper this morning.” You mused, “What have you got planned?”

“Want me to tell you, or do you want to see?” He asked, climbing onto her back. 

“I have a feeling even if I asked, you wouldn’t tell me.” You said, taking his hand as he pulled you up next to him.

“You’d be right.” He shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist. He nudged Taima into a trot, and then a gentle gallop. Your mind raced as he led Taima down the same trail as the one to the meadow. 

“What are we doing here?” You asked, looking back at him. 

“Shh.” He said, easing her to a stop, just on the edge of the field. He climbed down, tying her lead to a tree before reaching up for you. Although you could have gotten off of her without his help, you knew he just liked doing it.

“Charles, aren't you gonna tell me?” You huffed, keeping your voice low. Instead he bent down in a crouch, moving toward the tree line. You sighed, following his movements. Grazing in the meadow was a herd of wild horses, if you had to guess they were probably mustangs. “Horse-watching?” You asked, looking over at him. “You dragged me out of bed to watch some horses?”

“Is that why you think I did?” He hummed, looking over at you.

“Well- no.” You huffed, “But how am I supposed to know if you refuse to tell me?” You asked, raising your brows. 

“Today,” He started, looking back out at the herd, “today you’re going to tame your first horse.” 

Tame? 

“How am I supposed to do that?” You asked furrowing your brows, “The second we step out into the clearing they’re gonna hightail it out of here.”

“It takes patience,” He said, “You’ll have to be careful, quiet, calm steps. You might spook them, but you can also calm them. Your horse will choose you, whichever one is ready to be claimed.” 

“You speak as though it’s easy.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“How do you think I got Taima?” He asked, you rolled your eyes. “You can do it.” He said, squeezing your hand. Long gone was the playful teasing tone as his dark eyes found yours. “I’ll be beside you the whole time.” 

The two of you crept forward in the grass, feeling more predator than prey as you approached the horses. Violet flowers bloomed under their hooves as they grazed. A few of the horses raised their heads, whinnying as they took off. You caught the eye of one, a light gray dusted with dark markings along its flank. 

“That one.” You whispered 

“Better calm it then.” Charles answered, hanging back as you put your hands up.

“Woah, woah easy.” You called, pushing down the nerves that threatened to overtake you. You did your best to exude confidence although you were thoroughly lacking in that department. The horse- a mare- stomped at the ground, huffing as you got closer. 

“Easy girl, easy.” You cooed, honestly surprised you had gotten this close on your first try. You gently placed a hand on her neck, feeling her muscles twitch and ripple against your palm. “There we go.” You said softly, patting her gently. “We can be friends.” The lasso hung heavy at your hip, Charles' reminder to only use it if necessary ran through your mind. She had to trust you, you had to trust her. But she was wild, this wasn’t Taima or even Buell. 

But she would be yours. The second you met her eyes you knew. 

So in a move that was both foolish and ballsy, you grabbed a fistful of her mane and threw yourself over her body. She let out a whine, her front legs jumped off the ground as she reared back. You held on tight, squeezing her body with your thighs as you tightened your grip on her mane. 

“Easy! Woah, easy girl!” The words fell from your lips almost subconsciously, all that ran through your head was ‘stay on’. She bucked and jumped, giving you a good fight. A fight that you weren’t exactly prepared for. 

Your grip loosened, and before you knew it you were on your back. Pain erupted through your chest as you gasped like a fish out of water. Charles was by your side in an instant, his eyes wide as he looked your body over. 

God, you couldn’t breathe. Your mouth opened and closed as you stared up at Charles.

“It’s alright, you’re okay.” He said in a much too calm voice, “Give it a minute, it’ll come back.” You didn’t fully believe that, but after a few moments the air returned to your lungs. “Are you hurt?” He asked, running his hand up and down your arm.

You did a quick check in your mind. Other than the pain in your chest and shoulder, everything seemed to be okay.

“My shoulder.” You gasped, tears clouding your vision. 

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” He sighed, “You landed on it pretty hard.” You winced, taking his hand as he pulled you into a sitting position. You’d definitely have a nasty bruise, one that Arthur would make a fuss over once he saw it. 

“I’m alright.” You said, brushing the tears away from your eyes. He stood, helping you to your feet. The gray mare blew air through her lips, almost laughing at you as she trotted nearby. 

It was on.

Nearly two hours later, Charles and you were walking back to the cabin. The gray mare trotted beside you as you led her along with the rope. Your ribs were a little bruised, if you had to guess. Every other breath made you wince, but you’d never felt more alive. 

You had got her, she was yours. 

This was something you had done. Sure, Charles had been close by, but you were the one who had broken her. You were the one she submitted to, even if she only submitted enough to keep you on her back instead of bucking you off. She was headstrong, stubborn, a challenge. A challenge that you had won. You knew over time she would trust you more, that your bond would grow into one like Charles and Taima. But it was something that only you could do. Neither Charles nor Arthur could grow the bond between you and your mare. This was something that you two would have to overcome together. The thought made you giddy. As much as you loved your husbands, you didn’t want to get complacent. You feared that one day you’d slip back into your old ways, relying on the men like you had your father. Even though you knew they’d never treat you the way he had, you needed your independence. Needed to have something of your own. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Charles asked, pulling you out of your thoughts as you lead her inside the barn. 

“Oh- I just-“ you shrugged, leading her into a pen. You would fully introduce her to Buell another day. For now, she needed to get used to her new home. Charles led Taima into her own stall, his eyes trailing over you. One of his dark brows cocked as his eyes bore into you.

“I just got lost in my head.” You said with a shy smile, shaking your head as you patted your mare’s neck. 

“Hm.” He hummed walking over to you, leaning against the wood panels. “I wish you could’ve seen yourself out there today.” Now that got your attention.

“What do you mean?” You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged, his eyes fixated on your mare.

“You were… magnificent.” He said, his near obsidian eyes settling on you. Heat bloomed in your belly, as you lowered your eyes. 

“I’m sure I looked magnificent as she bucked me off a hundred times.” You said rolling your eyes, your cheeks ablaze at his compliment. He chuckled, the deep rumbling sound shot straight to your core.

“I’m serious, you know?” He said, stepping closer. Lowering his head to meet your eyes. “You belong with her, on her.” 

“How did you name Taima?” You asked, trying to change the subject as you broke away from Charles' heated gaze. He didn’t push, letting out a small sigh as he looked over at her.

“Taima means thunder. It fits her, don’t you think?” He asked, looking back at you.

“How am I supposed to compete with that?” You chuckled, shaking your head. “What about Buell? How did Arthur name him?”

“He didn’t.” Charles said, “Buell was given to him.” You nodded, well that didn’t help either. You turned back to your mare.

“What were those flowers near the meadow called? The purple ones?” You asked.

“Violet snowdrop?” Charles answered.

Snowdrop. It was perfect. 

“Her name is Snowdrop.” You smiled, patting her flank. 

“Snowdrop?” Charles asked, raising a brow, “Sounds good to me.” He nodded, with a small smile. You got Snowdrop settled, giving her fresh hay and some grain. Charles waited by the barn door, his arms crossed over his broad chest. 

“Think she’s settled.” You nodded, brushing your hands off on your pants.

“Good.” He nodded, pushing off the door as he descended on you. Falling to his knees as he pulled you closer by your shirt.

“Charles!” You gasped, his large hands squeezing your waist before grabbing your bottom. 

“You have any idea what you do to me?” He panted, “Seeing you on her, didn’t even need my help.” You gasped as he unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down your legs. 

“I definitely did need your help.” You stuttered, surprised by the hunger present in his eyes. He shucked his jacket off, throwing it onto the floor. He lowered you to the floor, propping yourself up on your elbows as he kneeled between your thighs. His deft fingers worked on the buttons of your blouse, not bothering to fully take it off once he revealed your breasts. A low groan rumbled through his chest, before he pounced on you. A cry left your lips as he wrapped his hot, wet mouth around your nipple. You arched into him, your hands threading through his silky strands. Holding his mouth against you as his other hand kneaded your neglected breast. His tongue swirled around your nipple, working it into a stiff peak. 

“Charles-“

“You’re so strong.” He mumbled against your skin, switching to wrap his lips around your other nipple. “So brave, such a brave girl.” If any other man had said something like that, you would have thought of it as a tease. But there was only adoration laced in Charles tone. You sighed, wrapping your bare legs around his clothed waist.

“Charles.” You breathed, the ache between your thighs growing as he worshipped your tits.

“Ours. All ours.” He mumbled and you could feel his grin against the swell of your breast. He moved down your body, taking his time to lick and caress every bare inch of skin on your torso. He paused below your navel. His heated gaze softened as he ran his hand over your lower belly. 

You knew what he was thinking. What he was dreaming of. Charles hadn’t been shy in his wishes for you to carry their child. He loved spilling inside you, loved to see Arthur’s seed dripping out of your spent pussy. He had made it clear that he dreamed of having a family, how could you blame him? Anyone would crave a family if they lost theirs, and his was so cruelly stolen from him. 

But none of you had talked about it past that. Arthur seemed to freeze whenever the topic of children was spoken of. He wasn’t ready, that much was clear. So neither you nor Charles brought it up. 

He placed a kiss on your belly, but it was more than that. It was a promise.

He didn’t linger, moving down to your core. He drew in a strangled breath, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your bloomers. He pulled them down tortuously slow, slipping them over your knees before throwing them behind him. 

“Show me sweetheart.” He whispered huskily, his hands resting on your knees. You spread your legs, letting your knees fall open on either side of him. A groan rumbled through his chest, sending shivers down your spine. His near obsidian eyes found yours as he licked his lips. 

He descended, burying his face in your pussy. You cried out, your hands gripping his silky strands as he tore you apart piece by piece. Thrusting his tongue into your hole, he grabbed your cheeks. Tilting your hips up to reach deeper. 

“Charles!” You moaned, throwing your head back on the barn floor. He didn’t falter, licking a stripe up as he moved to lay affections on your clit. Sucking at your bundle of nerves, sending lightning shooting up your body. He moaned, adding to the pleasure that was building in your belly. It was all happening so fast, his mouth bringing you to a precipice. Teetering on the edge as his mouth worshipped you. Your breath was stolen out of your lungs as he pushed a finger inside you, curling it up against that beautiful spot. 

“Fuck!” You cried, tears clouding your vision as he pushed you over the edge. It didn’t matter that you were already cumming, he doubled down on his efforts. Sucking down hard as he pumped his finger.

He only stopped when you pushed him away, shoving at his head. He sat back on his haunches, his lips glistening as he grinned.

Your heart pounded as you surged forward, the two of you colliding in a clash of tongue and teeth. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his shirt. Your hands flew to his waistband to free him from his trousers.

His groan rumbled through his chest like thunder, each touch like a spark trying to catch. You straddled him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you rubbed yourself against him. His dick sliding across your folds.

“Damn it.” He hissed through clenched teeth, thrusting up against you. You shivered as his head bumped against your clit, biting your lip as you raised your hips. “I love you.” He moaned, pressing his forehead against your sternum as he buried himself inside you. 

Although buried wasn’t the right word, no, he carved out a place for him within you. Molding you, reshaping you, for only them, only him and Arthur. Even with his spit and your previous release it was still a stretch. 

“God-“ The word ripped through your throat through a choked sob. Your nails digging into his shoulders as you bounced on his lap. 

“So damn tight.” He groaned against your throat, his hands digging into your hips as he moved you up and down. 

“I’m not-“ 

“I know.” With each thrust you could feel him in your guts, going deeper. The coil inside you tightened and snapped. Electricity shot through your body and down your legs as you cried out. 

He groaned, pulling you flush to his body as he took over. It didn’t take long, it never did when your pussy was basically milking his cock. His hips shot up, jolting with little thrusts as he filled you. Each of you were breathing hard, your breath mingling in the stale air of the barn. You winced, struggling to take in a full breath with your no doubt bruised ribs that you had completely forgotten about.

“Shit.” Charles mumbled, gently laying you back onto his coat. 

“I’m fine.” You said, shaking your head, “More than fine after that.” You chuckled as he picked a piece of straw out of your hair. He grabbed your bloomers, taking your foot in his hand before freezing. 

His dark gaze zeroed in on your core as he leaked out of you. You swallowed thickly, heat blooming in your core. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, meeting your gaze. 

Another moment passed.

“Gimme those.” You said grabbing your bloomers from him. “We gotta get back to Arthur.” You chuckled, pulling them on before your trousers.

Tags : @photo1030 , @emerald-ranch  @highlandhour , @buffkirby2020 , @cyb3rsx , @whalecage , @idekraeven , @calcarius445 , @heloixe , @heron-feathers , @bluebxrrxl , @youngwhisperstree , @snoorio , @esquilone

[inkcapmushroomsworld]

Charles’ Plan (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Tags/Warnings: fluff, use of she/ her pronouns, kissing.

Author’s note: Wrote this while bored on a road trip, I hope you guys like it. ;)

Word count: 1136

“I can’t take it anymore,” Charles muttered, sitting beside Javier at the campfire. “I gotta do somethin’ about this.” Across from them, you sat quietly, trying and failing to look casual as you watched Arthur talking with Hosea nearby. Javier strummed a few notes on his guitar, not looking up. “Eh, you really shouldn’t be stickin’ your nose in other folks’ love business, amigo.”

But Charles wasn’t listening. He was already thinking… scheming, even. He remembered you once talking about the wildflowers that grew just outside camp. Without another word, he stood, nodded faintly to Javier, and made his way to his tent. He was too tired that night, but he’d go flower picking in the morning.

And he did.

At the crack of dawn, Charles slipped away to a nearby field and carefully gathered a small bouquet. He tied them together with a piece of twine and returned to camp while most of it still slept. Quiet as a shadow, he laid the flowers at the opening of your tent and melted away, resting against a nearby tree to wait.

Not long after, the flap of your tent rustled open. You stepped out, blinking at the morning light. When you saw the flowers, your brows knit in confusion. Charles watched as you looked around, then your eyes settled on Arthur’s tent. He was sitting on his cot, quietly sketching in his journal. You raised the flowers to your nose and smiled shyly, cheeks blooming pink. Then you slipped back inside your tent.

Charles couldn’t help but grin. Maybe his plan was working.

Throughout the day, he noticed you stealing even more glances at Arthur than usual. But still… nothing happened. No conversation. No move. Just long looks and awkward silences. One day passed. Then two. Then five.

Enough was enough.

Time for another plan.

He caught Arthur near the horses. “You up for some hunting tomorrow?” he asked casually. Arthur nodded. “Always.” Charles had expected that, Arthur never turned down a hunt. Now, he just had to get you to come. Fortunately, he had the perfect excuse.

You were sitting on a log, mending one of your skirts when he approached. “You still wanna learn the bow?” he asked. “I remember you askin’. I’m headin’ out tomorrow. Thought maybe you’d like to come along.” You looked up at him, a small smile spreading across your face. “Of course. That would be very nice. Thank you, Charles.”

He nodded, satisfied. Step one: success.

The next morning, Charles saddled his horse, Taima, and then began saddling yours. Arthur strolled over, his own horse ready to go. “Why are you saddlin’ her horse?” he asked, one brow raised. “I invited her with,” Charles replied, tying a bedroll to the saddle. “She was curious about the bow. Figured this was a good chance.” Just then, you arrived. Your eyes immediately found Arthur, who was standing beside Charles. You greeted them both, cheeks already warm.

The ride was mostly quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the clip of hooves. But the glances continued. Lingering. Meaningful. Charles led you both to a small clearing, perfect for setting up camp for the night. “You two get the camp started,” he said, dismounting and tying Taima to a tree. “I’ll have a look around. See what I can find.”

He left you and Arthur alone, hopeful this time would be different.

You started unpacking in silence. After a few minutes, you finally gathered the courage to speak. “Did you leave flowers by my tent?” you asked softly. Arthur paused, brow furrowed. “Flowers? No… I didn’t leave no flowers.” Your heart sank just a little. “Do you know who would’ve?” you pressed after a moment. Arthur didn’t look up from building the fire. “Saw Charles pickin’ some flowers the other day… maybe it was him.”

That… made sense. But still, disappointment tugged at your chest.

When Charles returned, he found the same awkward silence hanging between you. You walked over to him, voice barely above a whisper. “Hey Charles… did you leave the flowers by my tent?” He glanced at you, then at Arthur sitting by the fire. “I put ’em there so you’d think Arthur finally grew a little courage,” he said with a quiet smirk. You blinked. “Oh, Charles. He wouldn’t do that. Arthur doesn’t like me… not in that way.”

Charles gave a soft sigh and placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “You can pretend not to notice, but I see it. The way he looks at you. And I’ve seen the drawings. Man’s got feelings… even if he won’t say it.” Then he walked past you and sat by the fire, leaving his words to sink in.

Later, after dinner, Charles stood and stretched. “Gonna take another look around,” he said. Arthur started to stand. “I’ll go with—”

“Nah,” Charles interrupted, already walking off. “I’ll be fine.”

You sat quietly near the fire, Arthur only a few feet away. The crackle of the flames filled the space between you. You turned to look at him, only to find he was already looking at you. His eyes darted away, ears turning pink.

“Arthur—” you began. But he cut you off. “Now… I don’t know what Charles said, or why the hell he gave you flowers, but I—” He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face. “Damn it… I like you. Alright?”

You stared at him, your heart skipping.

“Oh, Arthur,” you breathed, cupping his cheek gently and turning his face toward yours. “I’ve been waiting so damn long for you to say that.”

And then you kissed him.

His hands found your waist, pulling you in. The kiss was soft, sweet, long overdue. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, laughing softly.

Later, curled up together by the fire, Charles returned. He saw the two of you, heads resting against each other, peaceful, smiling. He gave a satisfied smile of his own.

“You can learn the bow tomorrow,” he said, flopping down onto his bedroll. You laughed. “Sure. Thank you, Charles.”

As you and Arthur shifted your bedrolls next to one another, you whispered, “Goodnight, Charles.”

He hummed in reply.

Then you looked up at Arthur. “Goodnight, Arthur,” you said, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you once more.

Before long, you were asleep in his warm embrace and for the first time in a long while, everything felt exactly as it should.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 6: CUP YOUR MOUTH & WHISPER YOUR SECRETS

synopsis: you confess something to charles, but you don't know how he'll take the truth.

word count: 2.6k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: sorry for how short it is but the chap kinda wrapped up on its own lul

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog , @photo1030 , @mavenhavenn , @its-yummi , @fatherbangboo , @shackspossum , @swedesfics , @literallyrousseau , @xprloki , @pedifero (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

One hard truth is staring you dead in the face: you don’t know how to survive on your own.

Bronya’s – your new horse (newly stolen, but who cares?) – saddlebags were filled with cured meat and other foodstuffs, but when that runs out, you’ll have to return to the gang. You’re embarrassed by your outburst… or was it a tantrum? You’re not sure how to classify it, but looking back at your actions makes you cringe.

You’re not sure why. It was a long time coming. And, honestly? Arthur Morgan could go fuck a cactus, for all you cared. You once hoped that his next cigarette would be laced with fent, then immediately scolded yourself for doing too much. You don’t even know if fentanyl exists yet.

But you do know nature exists. You know you exist. The river before you exists, and the pebbles in your hand exist. Bronya exists, and she’s grazing on grass that exists, too.

You throw a pebble into the water and immediately feel bad. It spent decades, maybe even centuries, getting to shore. And then you come along and toss it back in. A big, fat ‘fuck you’ to years of hard work.

The rest of the pebbles fall from your hand and you collapse onto the rocky shore. You’re a grown adult, but you want nothing more than to wail and kick and scream like a kid that didn’t get their way. No one pities you as you wish to be pitied.

Would I even accept their care? You ask yourself. No. I’d need an excuse. Maybe if I was sick… If I was sick, I’d be petted and comforted and doted on. But I’m not. I’m a grown adult – practically a parent to Sere. And I haven’t seen her in so long…

Your eyes burn with tears and there’s no one around to stop them or to shame you into finding an excuse for them. They flow down your face freely as you let out ugly, hiccuped sobs. You pull your knees up to your chest and grit your teeth and try to stay quiet.

You can’t catch your breath. You feel like you’re suffocating.

You were so angry yesterday. So angry and so, so violent. And what scares you the most is that it felt good.

You’re pretty sure you gauged that guy’s eye out while he had you in a headlock. If you didn’t, you sure as hell hurt him pretty bad. There was so much blood running down his face… And the man you hit with a chair? What if he’s paralyzed? That’s something you learned pretty damn early – never hit someone in the back unless you want to be sued.

Your own words echo in your head: “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Yeah!”

You feel horrible. You were suffocating that man. You put him in a sleeper hold – yeah, a pretty boomer move when it comes to WWE, but fucking deadly in a street fight. You could’ve killed him.

That truth makes you want to throw up. But you don’t have the time to wallow in your own misery. You can’t afford to throw a little pity party because you’re a grown adult with grown adult responsibilities. You owe it to the gang to at least try.

But trying is so fucking hard, you think. Can’t I lay face-down in this puddle and pretend I’m drowning in an ocean for a little longer?

You’re startled by someone calling your name. You stand quickly, wiping your face before you turn around.

Charles is sitting atop Taima, one hand on the reins and a worried look on his face.

“Charles.” You clear your throat of the phlegm that comes with crying. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he says. “Arthur said you just stormed off yesterday. Everyone’s worried sick.”

“Everyone?” You echo, then laugh. “I doubt that.”

Charles sighs through his nose and looks over at Bronya. “Whose horse is that?”

“Mine,” you say. “I just… stole her, I guess. Her name is Bronya.”

“Bronya?” He repeats back.

You click your tongue twice and Bronya trots over to you. You hold your hand out and she sniffs at it.

“Bronya, yeah,” you say. “It’s Russian – short for Bronislava. But Bronislava’s kinda long, so…”

“I’m not even sure I know where Russia is,” Charles says.

You laugh softly. “It’s a big country, on the other side of Europe. I’ve never been, but everything I’ve read says it’s very cold.”

Charles dismounts and takes a tiny little sugar cube from Tiama’s saddlebag. He moves over to Bronya and holds it out on a flat hand. She eagerly eats it up, licking and sniffing at his hand for more.

You smile and pat her neck. “Hey, she’s my horse. Don’t steal her from me.”

“I’m not trying to.” He smiles and scratches the corner of Bronya’s jaw.

A nice silence falls. Bronya seems to be very content with all the attention she’s getting from you and Charles. Hopefully you can give her a better life than the man you stole her from gave her.

Charles breaks the quiet with a simple question. “How’re you holding up?”

A rush of new emotion floods your system and you look away, biting the inside of your lip to keep it from trembling. You let out a shaky sigh.

“Honestly?” You laugh wetly. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s going on.”

He looks over at you. “How do you mean?”

You think for a moment, then hold out your pinkie. “You need to pinkie promise not to tell anyone else.”

Charles looks at you weirdly, then holds out his pinkie. You hook it with his and hold it.

“I think…” You swallow thickly.

Tell him! Your mind yells at you. Tell him. If he doesn’t believe you, you’ll have an excuse not to try anymore. If he says you’re a liar, you can give up and lay on the ground and let whatever powers that may be take you.

You say the words before you can stop yourself. “I think I’m from the future.”

Charles stares at you. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t unhook his pinkie from yours.

You break the connection and step back. “Or – or maybe I had a… a dream. A really realistic dream. I think, maybe – I ate something bad. Something rotted, with… with mold.”

“No. Stop.” Charles holds up a hand.

“No, it was stupid!” You force a laugh. “A… stupid prank. I got you good! You should’ve seen your face.”

Charles says your name with a sternness you haven’t heard from him before. It makes you stop and snap your jaw shut before you dig yourself deeper into this hole of… you don’t even know what to call it.

“Are you telling me the truth?”

Your face starts to turn hot, but you still nod. “I am. I – I thought this was a… dream, or a coma, or something. But I think it’s more than that.”

Charles thinks for a moment. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I, um…” You pat your pockets. “I have things from the future. If you wanna see them.”

He nods, and you pull out your wallet. You open it and pull out a card.

“This is a credit card,” you say. “It has a wireless connection to my bank account. When I buy something, it automatically… gives money to whoever I’m buying something from. I don’t know – it’s way more complicated than that, but I don’t really get how it works.”

Charles gingerly takes your credit card and looks it over. He reads your name on the front, then flips it over and looks at the back and the string of numbers decorating it.

“It’s made out of plastic,” you say. “Just… in case you’re wondering. I don’t think it’s been invented yet.”

Charles looks up at you through his long eyelashes. “Do you want to go back?”

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come to you. Do you want to go back to the future? For all your fantasizing and hoping and wishing, you’re not so sure.

“I… don’t know,” you admit. “I love my family, and they’re in the future, but… it’s so chaotic. Everything’s concrete – which is just a boring grey rock. I hate it. But here, it’s so… beautiful. There’s so much nature.”

“There’s violence everywhere – Natives are being herded onto reservations, and every colorphobic makes it well-known that they hate Blacks,” he says. “How can the future be worse than what’s happening right now?”

You huff out a sarcastic-sounding laugh. “First, the planet’s on fire. There’s people going into schools and shooting children for… a fucking thrill, I guess. You have to take on debt to survive. Slavery’s back, but they just call it a prison system. And colorphobia is still just as rampant as it is back today –  though it’s just called racism now. Do you really need to hear more?”

Charles’ lip curls back just the slightest bit in disgust. “The future sounds horrible.”

“It is,” you say. “Trust me, it is.”

You pause for a moment, then say softly: “You can’t even see the stars.”

An indescribable sadness washes over you. It’s as strong as a tidal wave and as potent as a toxin. You can’t even see the stars.

The intrinsic human right of being able to look up at the sky and wonder had been stripped of you. And you didn’t even know how bad it was until you were granted that right, wholly and freely. The right to see the night sky, beautiful and unabashed. A million silver nails driven into dark blue velvet…

“Here…” You blink back a fresh wave of tears. “Here, the night sky is so clear. It’s like I could reach out and grab a handful of stars. Maybe I could keep them in a jar like fireflies.”

“Why can’t you see them in the future?” Charles asks.

“A ton of things,” you say. “Smog, too many lights… you might just not have the time to look. There’s so much shit going on that you can’t even catch your breath.”

You swallow whatever sorrow is in your throat and push on like nothing’s wrong. “But it’s over a hundred years in the future. You don’t need to worry about that. Or, hopefully you don’t, because… well, it’s sounding like I hope you die, but, uh… I don’t want that. I don’t think anyone wants that.”

You let out a nervous laugh and glance over at Charles. He’s unaffected.

“I, uh… seriously.” You reach out and put a hand on his upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his bicep is big and warm. “Don’t die. You’re… I don’t know how to say it. You tell it how it is. And… and I appreciate you. Life with the rest of the gang would be… well, it’d be a lot harder without you.”

You pat his upper arm awkwardly, then pull away. You handled that with all the finesse of a parent giving “the birds and the bees” talk. Hopefully Charles thinks it’s endearing and not weird.

“Have you found anything out about Sean?” You ask, if only to dissipate the awkward air you’ve created.

“Trelawny was telling the truth,” Charles says. “Sean’s being held on a boat somewhere in Blackwater. He and Javier are following leads, trying to find it.”

“It sounds like they’ve narrowed it down.” You stroke Bronya’s mane absentmindedly. “That’s good.”

You glance over at Charles to see him still staring at your credit card. You suppose that’s a reasonable response to seeing something that you have no understanding of.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” You ask quietly.

“You asked me not to,” Charles says. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “I feel like I’m lying by omission. But there’s also, um…”

You suddenly feel really worried, like you just know something bad is going to happen. You feel like you’re a twenty-watt bulb next to the lights of Broadway. Small, insignificant – maybe there’s something even wrong with you.

“But there’s what?” Charles prompts.

“Do you – do you believe in, like… I don’t know.” You let out a nervous laugh. “Do you believe in God? Or reincarnation?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “Do you?”

“I don’t know either,” you say. “But I know I’m not from here. And if I’m not from here, how am I physically here? Well… I think, maybe…”

You swallow thickly. “I think I’m someone else. I’m not myself, but I’m not them, either. I’ve never worked for Happy Trails Caravan, but I remember going to Zion Canyon and meeting with the tribes. I have memories of leading my mules down into the canyon… but I didn’t do that. Someone else did. It’s…”

You look over at Charles. He’s looking at you expectantly.

You whisper: “It’s like I’m inhabiting their body. Like a ghost. And I’m leeching off their memories – continuing a life that isn’t mine.”

A hot feeling of something between shame and anger overwhelms you the moment you finish speaking. It catches in your throat and makes it hard to breathe.

“But i-it doesn’t make sense,” you manage. “Because I look the same, and I have my wallet. I had the clothes I was wearing when I was… I was shot, and then I woke up in that cabin in the Grizzlies.”

You sigh heavily, like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. As far as you’re concerned, you do. Grappling between what you know and what you can only speculate on is tough and time-consuming and might just lead you to spiral.

“Maybe going for a ride will get your mind off things,” Charles says. He hands you your card and gives your shoulder a single pat. “Mount up.”

You do as he says. Again, it’s easy, even though you only mounted a horse for the first time yesterday. That other person is bleeding into the now with all these little reminders, and it might just drive you crazy.

Charles spurs Taima, and you spur Bronya to match her pace. The air is clear, the sky is devoid of clouds, and the breeze is strong but not overpowering.

You’re not sure where you’re riding to – you’re just following Charles. But you don’t really pay any mind to that. The grasses around you are native and grow tall. The trees tower above you, the branches untamed and the leaves catching every bit of sunlight they can. The sound of the abundant wildlife is both alarming and soothing. You can hear coyotes yipping, but it’s far away. The sound of birdsong is much closer and clearer.

“You know,” you say after a while of silence. “There’s one thing I miss. Besides my family, I mean.”

“What’s that?” Charles asks.

“Music,” you say. “There was so much music everywhere. People played it while traveling, in their houses, in restaurants… And people even invented new instruments, like drum kits and electric guitars. But it’s so quiet here.”

“Sounds loud,” he says.

“I guess, yeah,” you say softly. “I still miss it, though.”

The conversation comes and goes, and you don’t feel like putting in more effort. Another nice quiet falls. The only sounds are Bronya and Taima’s hooves hitting the ground, the breeze through the leaves, and the chatter of animals hiding in the grasses.

Maybe Charles was right. The future is pretty horrible. This entire riding trail could be a parking lot a hundred years from now. And it’s not like you did anything to refute it – you just added on and talked about the atrocities that come with modernization.

Maybe you could put off trying to get back for a little while more. It’s not like the future’s going anywhere. Is it?

[writing-for-soup]

A Man and His Horse - Charthur Fic

“That cannot be true,” Charles said, chuckling dismissively as he ushered Taima up a ridge. They were getting close; the mountain river Arthur’d heard about was supposed to be a great spot for salmon.

This endeavor all started that afternoon, when Charles had quietly cornered Arthur by his lean-to. Dutch’s favorite enforcer had been out on a job for the last ten days when he’d finally ridden into camp looking grimy and grisly and gorgeous.

To say Charles was…pent up at this point would have been an understatement. He was practically vibrating with anticipation to see his man in the flesh again. It’d been nothing but cold nights and his own hand for far too long. Not wanting to appear overeager, however, Charles waited at least a couple of hours before he approached Arthur.

“Successful trip?” he asked, watching as Arthur dunked his head and scrubbed his face at his wash station. Arthur looked up to him from his stooped position and grinned, his strikingly clear eyes framed perfectly by dewy wet lashes. Charles had to press his fingernails into the meat of his palm to avoid reacting.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d come see me,” he replied, straightening to dry himself off, cocky grin still intact, “I missed you.”

“Arthur-” Charles warned, looking around to ensure nobody was within earshot.

“I know, I know, no need for your serious voice,” Arthur grumbled, waving Charles off with one hand while he started working on the buttons of his shirt, “It was successful, thank you for askin’.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Charles forced himself to look at something other than Arthur as the man peeled his shirt from his shoulders, retrieving a clean one from his trunk and seeming to take forever to get it on. One tiny peak from Charles was enough to get a rumbling chuckle out of Arthur.

“See somethin’ you like, angel?” he drawled, new shirt left hanging open on his broad shoulders.

“Arthur-”

“Mister Smith, I mean to say,” Arthur corrected himself, palms up and out in surrender as he continued chuckling like the evil, bad, evil man he was. Charles let himself get close enough for a quick slap to Arthur’s arm with the back of his hand.

“I’ve told you-”

“Not in camp, I know, I know,” Arthur defended, his smile falling to something more serious as he took a moment to look at Charles properly, eye-to-eye. “I’m sorry, just hard sometimes when I’ve been gone and you look so…” 

“So?” Charles asked, arms crossed on his chest and doing his best to look fed up with Arthur, regardless of how far it felt from the truth.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you in camp. Against the rules,” he said mockingly, his cocky grin returning. Arthur even turned to face away from Charles to button his shirt, depriving the other man of one last glimpse at that hairy chest and belly he missed so much.

“I see you’re busy,” Charles dared to bluff, half-turning away, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Arthur was turned around quick as a shot, on the cusp of reaching out to stop Charles from walking away. 

“Don’t be like that,” he pleaded, gone all apologetic and soft like he did at the slightest provocation from the younger man. He stepped closer, shirt tragically buttoned to the top but smelling a fair sight nicer than he had on arrival to camp. “Whaddya need?”

Charles took a measured step closer, careful to keep enough space that it wouldn’t look untoward from a distance. He let the air between them hang heavy, focusing his eyes on Arthur’s belt buckle before flicking up to the man’s eyes for his killshot.

“You,” he said, deep and smooth and practically sultry, more than enough to get Arthur riled up on the spot.

read the rest on ao3 for sweet cowboy smut

[mokokone]

Intense |Hyper x Reader [Smut]|

⚠Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ!⚠ Tʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs sᴍᴜᴛ, ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪsʟɪᴋᴇ sᴇxᴜ��ʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ/ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɢᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ. Tʜᴀɴᴋs!♡

A/N: hurray, I finally wrote a lemon about this guy, and i couldn't be happier. Hope you enjoy!♡

The shoji to the living room slides open.

"Kusuriuri," you say, entering the room. You see your husband for two and a half years, lying on the floor with one hand supporting his head and the other turning the pages of the book he's currently engrossed in. He looks up at you, his eyes glowing with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

"What is it, my love?" The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine as you approached and kneel in front of him.

You swallow your nerves and speak softly, "there's something I've been thinking about, something I want to try with you tonight."

 His blue eyes, now filled with curiosity, meet yours as he sets the book aside. You continue, "I want you to be... your other self when we make love."

 Kusuriuri's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but before he can say anything, you quickly add, "I want to love all of you, every part of who you are."

He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a knowing smile, he says, "Ah. Hyper, you mean?" His voice is gentle, but you can feel the caution underlying it.

"I don't know, my love. That form - that version of me... I can only become him when the Taima Ken Exorcism Sword is unsheathe. He is only used for combat against malevolent Mononoke," he explains.

You nod, your gaze never leaving his. "I understand that, but I figured that if I'm to be your wife, I should love you completely, even the sides of you that are meant for battle. Besides," you lean in closer, whispering, "I want to know what it's like to be loved by Hyper."

Kusuriuri snorts. "What? Am I not enough to satisfy your needs?" He asked curtly. Though he hadn't meant to sound defensive, you can tell he's slightly hurt. You place your hand gently on his cheek.

"Yes. You are plenty to satisfy me," you whisper, your voice laced with sincerity and affection. "But I want to love all of you, Kusuriuri. Not just the part of you that's a loving husband, but the part of you that's a fierce warrior as well. The part that fights to keep this world safe from mononoke."

He looks at you intently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. "Hyper is... intense," he warns you, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "I'm... he is strong, rough, and unyielding. He's not like me in that way. I'm worried that you might not be able to handle him."

You can tell he's hesitant, but your resolve doesn't waver. You nod solemnly. "I know he is, but I trust you, and I trust myself. I'm not asking you to hold back. I want to love him just as much as I love you."

Kusuriuri sighs, his expression a mix of concern and admiration. He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from your face, his thumb tracing your cheek.

"You truly are a remarkable woman," he murmurs. "However, you are foolish. You do not know what it is you're asking of me, my love. Or the dangerous game you are playing."

He pauses briefly, his gaze staring into yours both intently and affectionately and then continue. "But if it is your wish, I shall grant it," he says, his lips forming a smirk. "Just remember... you asked for this."

You couldn't stop the smile that spreads across your face, feeling a thrill of excitement and a hint of nervousness. "Thank you, goshujin-sama," you say before leaning in to kiss him.

Kusuriuri shudders at the honorific, and for a moment, you can feel the essence of another presence within him.

It begs to be unleashed - to feel you, to claim you.

And it is intense!

It had heat and urgency to it, the kind of passion that could only be found in a love that had grown over two and a half years of hunting mononoke and tender moments.

Pulling away, you watched Kusuriuri lick his lips, his gaze darkening with desire. "Wait for me in the bedroom," he says, his voice a deep growl that sends a shiver down your spine. "And wear something nice."

You nod eagerly and retreat to the bedroom, your heart racing with excitement for what's to come.

Opening your wardrobe, you select a kimono that would be suitable. It's a red with delicate white abstract patterns scattered across it. The fabric is silky and light, hugging your body in all the right places, and it hangs off your shoulders just low enough to show cleavage. You slip it on, the coolness of the silk sending a shiver through your body. You tie it loosely, leaving a gap down the middle that allows you to move freely.

Sauntering over towards the futon, you sit down, your legs folded beneath you, and take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. The anticipation is palpable, making the air thick with desire.

Moonlight streams through the paper walls of the bedroom, casting a soft glow over the space as you wait for him. The air charged with an electric tension that makes your skin prickle. 

You wait patiently for your husband to come and join you.

As the minutes tick by, you can feel your excitement and nervousness building. You've never been with Hyper before, and you do not know what to expect. But you trust Kusuriuri, and you want to experience all facets of the man you've chosen to spend the rest of your life with. Both he and Hyper are two halves of the same coin, and you wanted to love both of them equally. 

The quiet of the night is disrupted by the sound of the shoji sliding open. You feel a presence enter the room, and your heart leaps into your throat. You don't dare look back, focusing instead on the soft sound of his footsteps approaching you.

You feel the futon dip under his weight as he sits behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against his firm chest. You gasp as his warm breath tickles your ear. 

He leans in, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers, "Are you ready for this?" His voice is deeper, more primal than Kusuriuri's, and you can feel the power of his alter ego resonating through his body.

You take a moment to glance down at his arms that's wrapped around your waist. Unlike Kusuriuri, who is pale, Hyper had a darker skin tone, almost as if kissed by the sun. You lightly traced the golden markings aligning his skin, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.

Evidently you nod, your voice a bare whisper. "Yes, goshujin-sama. I'm ready."

Hyper's arms tighten around you, and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a wild rhythm that matches the racing of your own. He leans in closer, his warmth enveloping you like a second skin. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, as if to memorize your scent.

"May I suggest a safe-word?" He murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "If it becomes too much, I will stop immediately."

You think for a minute, trying to come up with a word that you're unlikely to say in the heat of the moment.

 "Koi," you breathe, and you feel him press his lips against your neck.

Hyper nods, pleased with your reply as his hands slide up to your shoulders, pushing the kimono down to reveal your collarbones. He kisses a line down to your shoulder, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

"You look beautiful, my Kokoro."

His heart.

"It's a shame it has to come off," Hyper says, his voice a seductive murmur that sends a thrill through your body. He carefully unties the sash of your kimono, allowing the fabric to slip down your body. It pools around your waist, leaving your upper body exposed to his hungry crimson gaze.

You feel a tremble of anticipation as his hands explore your bare skin, tracing the lines of your shoulders and collarbones before moving to cup your breasts. His touch is firm, his fingers teasing your nipples until they tighten into peaks. You arch your back, offering yourself to him fully, feeling a wetness growing between your legs.

"Nngh..." You moaned as Hyper's skilled hands roamed over your body, eliciting reactions you never knew possible. His thumbs circled your nipples, and his other hand trailed down your stomach to the apex of your thighs, teasing the damp fabric of your underwear. The anticipation was almost unbearable, your body aching to be claimed by him.

With a swift movement, he lifted you off the futon and laid you down. He spreads your legs, settling himself in between them. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh as he leaned over, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss. His tongue danced with yours, demanding and possessive, as if he was claiming every part of you.

Hyper's hand trailed down your body, his hand pushing your panties aside, eager to feel your heat. You moan into his mouth as he dips a finger inside, testing your readiness. He smirks, feeling how wet you already are for him. He pulls away, leaving you panting and desperate for more.

"Already wet and I barely even started," Hyper chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of arousal and satisfaction. He kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and light nibbles that make you squirm. His finger inside you moves with a steady rhythm, coating itself in your slickness before pulling out and tracing lazy circles around your cl*t. You bite your bottom lip, trying to keep from crying out too loudly.

His hot tongue licks around your breast before he takes the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. You gasp, arching off the futon. His teeth graze the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. His fingers pump into you, curling and stroking until you're writhing beneath him.

"Ahhh~♡" You moaned as Hyper's expert touch brought you closer and closer to the edge. His teeth grazed over your nipple, the sharpness of his fangs a stark reminder of his other form, but it only excited you more. 

You feel his hand pull away from your drenching p***y, which was then followed by fabric ripping. He tears panties apart, exposing you completely to the cool air of the room. He doesn't bother to remove it entirely, instead leaving it there.

"I've been waiting for this," he murmurs, his eyes glinting in the moonlight as he hurriedly unties the red obi of his kimono, the fabric giving way, revealing his firm, muscular chest. His erection is prominent, straining against his hakama, and you can't help but stare at it, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Hyper's hand moves to the ties, letting his hakama fall open to expose his c♂ck. It's thick and veined, and you feel a surge of wetness at the sight of it. He leans over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He leans over you, his long white hair falling around your face like a curtain. "Remember," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin, "you wanted this. It's not too late to use your safe-word."

You shake your head, your eyes locked with his red gaze. "I regret nothing," you affirm, your voice trembling with desire. "I love you... I love you both."

To show him you mean it, you wrap your legs around his waist, trapping him and making the tip of his c♂ck probe your entrance. He groans at the sensation, and you can feel his control slipping. 

"Goshujin-sama," you whisper, "please..."

Hyper's eyes burn with desire, the intensity of his gaze setting your skin on fire. Without another word, he pushes into you, filling you completely. You gasp as you adjust to his size, your nails digging into the futon as he moves. His strokes are deep and powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You've never felt this full before, this alive. Kusuriuri's lovemaking is tender, but Hyper's is raw and primal. It's like being claimed by a force of nature, and you can't get enough of it. Your body responds instinctively, hips rising to meet his every thrust.

"Ahn... Mngh..." You couldn't form coherent words as Hyper's c♂ck stretched and filled you, the sensation overwhelming. His movements were unlike anything you've ever experienced with Kusuriuri. Each thrust was powerful and unrelenting, claiming you in a way that was almost violent but oh so satisfying.

Now you fully understand what Kusuriuri meant by "intense."

He rams into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room as he claimed you with a ferocity that seemed almost otherworldly. Your body quaked under his, the pleasure bordering on pain but never quite crossing over. You could feel your climax building, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely.

"My Kokoro," he groans, feeling your inner walls tighten around him as you near climax. His grip on your hips tightens, long red nails digging into your skin; his rhythm growing more erratic as he f**ks you with everything he's got. The sound of your moans and his grunts fill the room, mingling with the rustling of the futon beneath you.

"I'm cumming, goshujin-sama!♡" You scream out your release, your body trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure that crashes over you. Hyper's strokes become more frantic, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he, too, reaches the precipice.

Warmth floods your insides as the man above you collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding against your chest. You feel the sticky wetness of his release inside you, and for a moment, you just lay there, trying to catch your breath.

Hyper's weight is a comfort, his muscles relaxing as he kisses your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin. "You're mine," he murmurs, his voice still deep and gruff with desire. You nod, your hands tracing patterns on his back. You are his, just as he is yours.

He pulls out slowly, and you feel a bit of sadness that the moment is over, but he quickly turns you onto your side, pulling you into a spooning position. 

The afterglow of your love-making fills the room, the only sound being the two of you trying to calm your erratic breathing. You can feel his heartbeat slowly returning to normal as he holds you tightly, his hand resting on your stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. His other hand plays with the strands of your hair, gently stroking and tucking them behind your ear.

Hyper whispers sweet nothings into your ear, words of love and ownership that make you feel cherished. His fiery eyes are now gentle, filled with a love so intense it's almost overwhelming. You snuggle closer into his embrace, feeling more connected to him than ever before.

He runs a finger down your spine, making you shiver, and you can feel his c♂ck already erected again. You smile to yourself, knowing that you're not the only one who enjoyed this union. You whisper back, your voice hoarse from the passionate cries of ecstasy,

"I'm yours, goshujin-sama, forever."

The kiss deepens, and before you know it, you're both lost in the passion again. His c♂ck, now fully erect, presses against your stomach, leaving a wet trail of pre-cum. You look into his eyes, questioning if you should continue.

Hyper's eyes darken at your declaration as he leans in, kissing you softly, his tongue darting out to taste you again.

He smirks, as if reading your thoughts. "Are you up for another round, my Kokoro," he asked, his voice thick with desire.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The last thing you remember was the feeling of him sliding back into you, filling you completely once more.

Unfortunately, somewhere in the intense moment, you had to use your safe word, unable to handle the intensity of his lovemaking. But he had been gentle, reassuring, and had brought you back to the edge before plunging you over again.

᪥END᪥

[zanazirafanfic]

🩸patching up a wound with charthur!

I loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Keep the prompts coming, people - my asks are always open!

~RDR~ "Doesn't look like you've got any broken bones, thankfully. But it's gonna take a while to get all of this out. What is it with you and getting tossed through windows, Arthur?"

"Ain't like I did it on purpose!" Arthur grumbled, trying not to flinch as Charles carefully extracted another long shard of glass from the muscle of his forearm. "All I wanted was a goddamn drink wit'chu after a job well done. Weren't my fault those bastards decided to start shit with us."

In truth, "those bastards" had only targeted Charles, at least at first. Their lips had been curling the second he stepped through the swinging double doors of the saloon, cold gazes fixed on him with a brand of distaste so familiar he rarely paid it any mind anymore. If they kept to their own business, then so would he.

Of course, his luck couldn't be that good. This particular group of men seemed to take an exceptional degree of offense to his presence in "their" establishment, and it wasn't long before they sidled up to the bar on either side of him and Arthur, casting dirty looks their way between every shot of whiskey. Charles sighed, prepared to simply pay his tab and go. Their hunting trip had been more than successful, both horses' saddlebags stuffed full of game to bring back for the stew pot. That was more than enough of a reward for him; a buzz and a bellyful of this rotgut certainly weren't worth a brawl or a shootout.

But before he could make it to the door, one of the group decided to take matters into his own hands. As Charles walked past, he stuck out a leg to try and trip him; would have succeeded, too, had Charles not already been expecting something like that to happen and moved out of the way. Arthur's hackles were up instantly, but Charles gave a minute shake of his head and a pointed look from the corner of his eye: Don't. He kept walking, head high, shoulders squared, and jaw clenched.

He'd just laid his palm on the door to push it open when the youngest and cockiest of them decided Charles needed to be given a new nickname on his way out.

Arthur's fist knocked out three of the bastard's tobacco-stained teeth before he could even get the entire word past his lips.

After that, everything predictably dissolved into chaos. It was a pretty standard bar fight, all things considered, and each of them held their own pretty well - at least until Arthur somehow got himself thrown through the front window and out into the barely-solid mass of muck that called itself a street. Charles, who couldn't care less about finishing this pointless fight, leapt after him, whistling for the horses as he plucked Arthur out of the mud. He hauled them both into Taima's saddle, uncaring of the absolute filth that now coated him too, and fired a few warning shots over one shoulder to discourage any of them from pursuing before beating a hasty retreat.

They'd made it out alive, but not without injury, which left Charles - not for the first time - cleaning up a mess created by his partner's well-meaning but misplaced attempts at chivalry.

"I'm sorta impressed, in a way," Arthur continued, a crooked grin pulling at his split lip and wrinkling the corner of his unblackened left eye. "Didn't think any o' those fellers were even strong enough to pick me up, let alone put me through a window."

Charles shook his head, lips thinning in displeasure as he extracted another piece of glass from Arthur's bicep. "There shouldn't have been any reason for them to try. I had things under control. This ain't my first time in a saloon, Arthur, I can handle myself just fine."

"'Course you can, Charlie, I know that. But I couldn't just let 'em stand there and talk about you that way right in front of me!"

"They weren't saying anything I haven't heard a thousand times before."

"That don't make it right!"

"Of course it doesn't, you fool," he snapped impatiently, fixing the older man with a glare. "But I'm not gonna risk my life, or yours, trying to fight every sad, bitter drunk who calls me a name I don't like. It accomplishes nothing, except to prove to them that everything they already think about me is true. It's not a hill I'm willing to die on, and I also don't need you trying to die on it for me."

A pregnant pause lingered between them, the silence broken only by Arthur's stifled grunts of pain and the quiet plinking of the bloodied glass chips Charles dropped into the bowl by his knee. Then, in a fragile voice, he whispered, "Watching you get yourself hurt for me will never feel like victory, Arthur."

After a few tense minutes, Arthur breathed out a long sigh through his nose, looking up at Charles from beneath the brim of his worn gambler hat. "Hell, Charles, I'm sorry. Ain't ever meant to cause you more trouble, or make you worry. But I still did, so... 'm sorry." His right hand slipped into Charles's left, squeezing gently. "I can't say I agree, or really even understand," he added slowly, chewing carefully on his words before he spat them out. "But... if that's how you feel, I'll respect it."

Charles had felt himself tense as soon as Arthur began speaking, bracing himself for an argument he absolutely did not want to have, but released his held breath when he realized that wasn't where this conversation was headed. "Thank you," he answered, a relieved smile pulling up the corners of his lips as he squeezed Arthur's hand back. "That's all I ask."

"Just so you know, though, I'd do it again. If you asked me to, I mean," Arthur amended quickly, when he saw the reproachful look Charles started to turn his way. "You're worth being thrown out a window for, Mr. Smith."

Charles let out a startled bark of laughter at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth as he shook his head fondly. This man, this crazy, infuriating, wonderful man... What would he do without him?

"So are you, Arthur," he chuckled, as he reached for the needle and thread to begin stitching his adorable idiot back together. "So are you."

[covencodex]

Hello, I was curious I am unable to even have option to subscribe to your Patreon it says your no longer making content on my end. Is their a possible way for me to buy access to the Sylfaura race I love their design and concept so much

Hello!

My patreon has been down for a time due to inactivity/lack of time/health things on my end, but you can access most of my homebrew stuff over on GM-Binder!

If it's not working feel free to send another DM and I'll get you a link to the PDF from my dropbox instead or email it to you!

[wisteriadumster]

Waterfall ❥Eagle Flies

EAGLE FLIES X FEMALE READER

CW➻❥ ⋆ hooking up ⋆ lots of kissing ⋆ m! & f! Orgasm ⋆ f! Oral ⋆ outdoor sex ⋆

WC➻❥1687➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥ after coming with a friend, Charles smith, you help the struggling native tribe the Wapiti. One of the tribal members recognizes you and asks to take you out riding as a thank you for helping him and his people. He takes you to the top of the gorgeous Donner Falls where you receive the ultimate thank you.

A/N ➻❥ Eagle Flies is definitely the youngest person I have ever written about, but in my mind he’s anywhere from 19-23. I’ll start posting more too as well

Do Not Steal Or Translate My Work!

You rode with your close friend, Charles Smith, he was leading you to the native Wapiti tribe. “We’re just helping them live comfortably, I suppose. They don’t have much, so we’re being very helpful.” Charles spoke, he hadn’t said anything prior, just that he wanted you to help. “Of course, I don’t see why they should live lik-” you tried to think of a word, “dogs.” Charles answered for you, “dogs, yes. They shouldn’t live like dogs.” You rephrased your sentence.

The camp was in a small section of beautiful forest, you hitched your horse beside Charles and dismounted. “Just go around and ask what they need, Taima has some supplies in her saddlebag, help yourself to it.” He opened the saddlebag and grabbed a few provisions and then disappeared.

You walked around, handing cans of food and bandages out to those who asked. Many eyes stared at you, watching as you walked through their territory. They grew more comfortable as they noticed you helping, many giving you thanks in return for your kindness. A young man, around your age, came up to you and Taima. “So you’re helping my people?” He asked, petting Taima’s mane. “Helping as best as I can.” You answered, grabbing a can of beans. “Can I ask you for something?” He continued with the questions, this time looking at you. “That’s why I’m here..” You grew quieter once you looked at his face, he was quite attractive. “I’ve seen you before,” he put aside his question. “At that party in Saint Denis, you were with a man.” He was referring to Arthur, another friend of yours. “Oh yes I was, I remember seeing you briefly.” You responded, also remembering him from that night. “You are doing more for us than those men ever have.”

The young man followed you, but kept a distance. He was waiting for you to finish your job so that he could have you to himself. Which he did get once you had come back to an empty saddlebag. “Can I ask that question now?” He came close again, “certainly.” You answered and brushed the dirt from Taima’s back. “Would you like to ride with me?” He asked, pushing back his tied hair, “just let me tell my friend and then I’ll mount my horse.” You noticed a small smile form on his face before he ran off to find his own horse.

Charles told you to be safe and that he would meet you back at camp. Now you were riding down a road you didn’t know existed until this man showed you. “Can I ask who I’m riding with?” You finally asked, you have gone this whole time without knowing his name. “In english it’s Eagle Flies.” He answered, “I admire it, much better than something like Joe or Phil.” You looked at him with a grin. “I’m glad you think so. The army men have no respect for my people’s names, not that they take the time to learn it.” He looked at you with a matching grin.

“Just through these trees.” He turned his horse to the left, you both emerged out to the edge of Donner Falls. “Oh wow,” you were speechless at such a view, two falls were loud as the water crashed down to meet another edge to fall down, slowly merging into a river. “Beautiful right?” He dismounted his horse and tied it to a tie. He took your horse once you got off and tied it as well. “Do you take every girl you meet here?” You asked, walking beside him as you got close to the edge. “Only the beautiful and helpful ones.” He flirted, admiring you as you looked at the water. “You flatter me,” you looked at him. “It’s the truth.” His eyes crawl up and down your body, from your chest to your ankles, from your eyes to your lips. He stepped closer, your breathing drew thin at tension growing by his presence. His eyes were only staring at your eyes and lips, showing his thinking. He allowed himself to act on what was on his mind, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you into a kiss.

You were surprised by the sudden kiss, it was slow and unsure as you both adjusted to such an intimate act. You could feel blood rushing through you, the feeling you had for this stranger was intense. You were still trying to process what was going on but you knew what was happening physically. Eagle Flies hands were into the skin that surrounded your hips, pulling you against him. He was craving all of you, wanting all that you were. You pulled back, your foreheads pressed together. “Why are you doing this?” You hesitated being with him, “I could ask you the same thing.” he smirked, he didn’t answer but connected your lips with his, wanting to finish exploring a new territory.

You both stumbled as the kiss intensified. He laid you down on the grass, careless that one wrong slip and you’d both fall into the rapid water. You both breathed in each other’s air, not wanting to break from each other. Until Eagle Flies began to kiss down your body, unbuttoning your blouse as he descended. His fingers were quick, seamlessly removing your clothes as he moved down, kissing your delicate skin that tensed at his soft lips.

Once there were no more buttons to unbutton you knew that if you didn’t stop now that you wouldn’t stop. He came back up, his eyes were like a does as he looked down at you, “would you like me to stop?” He asked, seeing the slight sense of fear and worry in your eyes, “no.”

He was kissing your neck, a hand supporting himself while the other was unbuttoning your pants. You could feel a sense of submission wanting to quiver out of your lips as Eagle Flies undressed you. His hands caressed the bare skin of your torso before they went to unbutton his own pants.

Eagle Flies made eye contact, truly securing the intimacy that you felt. You drew in a gasp as you felt his cock push inside of you with ease. You saw his face change as he adjusted to such a feeling. “Have you ever done this before?” You asked him, he shook his head, “have you?” he returned, “a few times.” You admitted, it felt awkward to mention previous relationships.

His rhythm was hesitant, watching you to see what did or didn’t feel good. Eventually Eagle Flies found what felt best for you and him, he kept the pace to not disturb what he had perfected. He leaned down to kiss you, his tied hair came undone and fell down to cover your faces. Your hands tangled with his hair, pulling as you could already feel an orgasm coming.

You were trying to conceal your moans, “you don’t have to quiet out here, no one will hear us.” He reassured you as he let out a groan himself. You panted a moan out as his tip hit the wall of your vagina. You were incoherent as you were entering a trance of pleasure and stimulation. His lips were kissing, circling, and sucking your nipples.

You pulled a little harder on Eagle Flies hair, you felt a slight whimper against your breast. “Don’t stop,” you yelped, your legs starting to tense and stiffen as your climax was only a few thrusts away.

Eagle Flies couldn’t contain himself any longer, he was loud as his orgasm hit its peak and released. He pulled out of you and let his hot exhales warm your, already hot and sweaty, chest. He knew that you hadn’t reached the same pleasure as him so he began to kiss down your body, this time not stopping.

Without the restriction of your pants he kissed down your body, his face nuzzled in between your thighs. He licked the juices that surrounded you before he slowly pushed tongue into you. Your eyes widened and a moan escaped at you. Your orgasm had begun to decline but was now rising back to the climax.

Your legs were locked and your stomach began to tighten as your body began to get hot. At the height you were loud and your hands dug into the grass, pulling at it. Your body entered peace, relaxing all your stiffened muscles that had prepared for your orgasm. “Wow.” That was all you could say after going through a wave of every feeling you had ever felt.

You sat up and began to button your shirt, but Eagle Flies stopped you. “Here let me, I was the one who unbuttoned it.” He delicately pushed each button through its hole. He helped you up, his hands lingering longer than intended. “Thank you again for helping my people.” He said as if you hadn’t just done anything. “Are you riding back with me?” He asked as you both reached the horses.

You looked at the pocket watch in your saddlebag, “I’m ought to go back to my people.” You replied, “I can ride with you.” He offered once more, “no no, you should go back.” You denied, nervous of what Charles might say if he saw Eagle Flies. “Will you come back with your friend?” He asked as you both mounted, “well I had planned on it but after what just happened, I’ll be sure to return.” You smirked, his face reddened.

You hitched your horse at camp as if nothing had happened. “Charles,” you came up beside the man. “Hm?” He brought the ladle of stew to his bowl and poured it, “when do you plan on going back to the tribe?” You were eager for an answer, “whenever I have a free moment, why?” Charles eyed you with a strange look, “well because I’d like to go back and help. Eagle Flies told me of the struggles and that the help is good.” Most of what you said was true. “Well we’ll get some more provisions and tonics soon and head that way after.” Charles answered.

[dailyashleighraichu]

Out of curiosity: If you were to evolve Coro and Taima, what would you call their new species' name?

They were an Oshachu, then now they're Dewchu. The best Samurott/Raichu combination I can think of would be Samuraichu (with "rai" in raichu conveniently completing the word "samurai" lol). 🙃

Also, I imagine Coro wanting to become part Kantonian Raichu part Hisuian Samurott (higher Attack) and Taima, part Alolan Raichu part Unovan Samurott (higher Special Attack).

IT'S SO FUNNY THAT YOU SAY THAT ALL SPECIFICALLY

BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT

MY STUPID RAMBLINGS DOWN BELOW, READ IF YOU WANT

So the ORIGINAL plan for Coro and Taima was for them not to evolve. This was mostly because me and Sharkie (@occasional-wott-bros) looked at Samurott's helmet and went "Mmm... no thanks, actually." We did do up a couple of concepts for these evolutions though, and it was more of a "We're not actually doing this, so take these" kind of thing.

Then uh.... Then some backstage planning was happening between me and another friend, @ask-neontiger/Jordy.

This happened a couple of years ago, especially when I was heavily clingy to Future!AU, and I ended up making a design for Evolved Taima that I really loved! Coro was a real pain in my side though, so I put him on a shelf to deal with later.

Hisuian Samurott was revealed and I knew that was gonna be a part of Coro's evo, but I just couldn't for the fucking life of me get a design that I was happy with and it was pissing me off. Another friend of mine, @flaaffodills helped me out and gave me the perfect idea for Evolved Coro as well, and here they both are now!

I'm INCREDIBLY happy with how both of them came out, and I will always give my thanks to Mac/Flaaffodills for helping me pull together a design for Coro that I was finally okay with.

[catbread0]

Awwh thank you for answering my ask for Kusuriuri that was so cute!! \(❁´◡`❁)/ How would a hizamakura/lap pillow scenario go with him with the reader, for both letting him rest on your lap and him letting the reader rest on his?

Kusuriuri (2007) x Fem! Reader

This was a cute request, and I love your idea. I hope you enjoy it. Forgive me if I had made any mistakes.(,,>ヮ<,,)!♡

Words: 859

Fluff

Mononoke (2007) Masterlist

Hizamakura/Lap pillow scenario

His head on your lap:

You and your lover, Kusuriuri, had just finished an exhausting day dealing with a Mononoke. You were both sharing a room in a nearby inn to rest and regain your energy. You saw that Kusuriuri was trying to fall asleep but wasn’t able to. He had tried moving around in his futon. However, it didn't seem to help him fall asleep. 

You felt pity and sat up from your futon, “Shin'ainaru, come here and use my lap as a hizamakura.”

Kusuriuri looked at you with his drowsy eyes as he made his way towards you. You both made yourselves comfortable. You were sitting, and Kusuriuri’s head was resting on your lap. You started to run your fingers through his long, dirty blond hair. You could see your lover's eyes close, and he had a small smile begin to curve on his face. 

As time went by, you could hear Kusuriuri let out small purrs. It brought you happiness knowing that you make him feel safe and relaxed when he’s with you. He soon fell asleep on your lap, and it was a peaceful night for the couple. 

Your head on his lap:

You and Kusuriuri were on a hill, relaxing under a tree. You were having a horrible headache, and you thought it would be a great idea to get some fresh air. 

Your lover told you that it would only worsen your headache if you didn't rest in your futon. However, you were stubborn and wanted to get rid of your headache as soon as possible. Your lover had let out a sigh but still decided to walk with you. 

He was correct. The walk had only worsened your headache more. It felt more dreadful than before. It also didn’t help that you could feel Kusuriuri’s smirk even when you're not directly looking at him, as he sits against the tree.

“I told you from the start about this, now look who's in regret for not listening, hmm? Dārin, take this medicine and lay your head on my lap.”

You listened to your lover's words this time and did as he said. You were laying your head on his lap, and again, he was correct. Your headache was starting to settle down slowly. 

The couple spent the rest of the day resting under the tree as the fresh breeze flowed past them.

Bonus!♡

Hyper’s head in your lap:

You and Kusuriuri had found the Mononoke’s form, truth, and shape. Kusuriuri released his Taima no ken, with which Hyper took over and started to fight the Mononoke. However, the Mononoke’s regret and anger were much stronger than they had seemed before. You were protected by the Ofuda that Kusuriuri put up, but you could see how Hyper was struggling to slay the Mononoke. 

Fortunately, Hyper was able to slay the Mononoke after some time, but he had taken quite the beating and was exhausted. You ran up behind Hyper when you saw him collapse backward. 

As you help him lay down, you put his head on your lap so he could be more comfortable than laying his head on the floor. You looked carefully at your lover. It was quite rare to ever interact with Hyper due to him only being able to be summoned when all the requirements of the Taima no ken were met. Seeing him so close and being able to get close to him for once in a while made your heart flutter, just like when you first met Kusururi. 

Despite the fact that Hyper was quite the opposite of Kusuriuri, you still loved him equally, for he is Kusuriuri’s alter form. You were broken out of your thoughts when you heard his voice.

“Thank you…”

Your eyes widened a bit. It wasn’t frequent that he would talk. He was usually always quiet. You replied, “There’s nothing to be thanking me for. You are my lover. While you protect me, I will support you in ways I can.”

“...” he was silent. He knew he only had a few more moments with you before he would return to the sword.

“Tell me your truth, why would you continue to stay with an odd ‘non-human’, do you not fear me?” He asked with the same monotone voice he always had.

You answered his question, “You’ve shown me that even when there’s danger, even that’s much stronger than you, you won't cowardly run away to save yourself. While yes, it's your job, you still put Ofuda around me every time to shield me. Most selfish samurai would run away without another thought for their lover. But, you, Hyper, have shown me that deep inside you is good, and that's what I look for in a husband.” 

You could see Hyper’s eyes close and a faint smile form, “I am honored to be with someone like you, Tsuma”

Shin'ainaru(1) - My dear

Dārin (2) - Darling

Taima no ken (3) - Sword of exorcism

Tsuma (4) - Wife (Yes, I know Okusan means wife as well, but it says Okusan refers to someone else’s wife, while Tsuma refers to their own wife. Please tell me if I’m wrong.)

~Lilly's

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Bullets & Claws | Chapter 7

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Word count: 4.8k

Tags: she/her pronouns, gun violence, alcohol consumption

There wasn't a lot you had to prepare, just throwing on your jacket and hat and doing something to cover those bandages of yours. Your red bandana is tied around it, but now you feel too warm and tug at it every now and then to get some of the cool air in there. Frowning you ride alongside Arthur and towards Blackwater, not taking the direct road of course to avoid running into bounty hunters or something along those lines.

"If you yell Dutch anythin' about this...", he starts, but doesn't finish his sentence and you wave it off.

"He won't find out shit from me.", you reassure him, also not too keen about getting into trouble with the leader.

"Why are ya so hellbent on savin' that Irish bastard anyway? Dutch ain't wrong when he says that you should rest.", he drawls and your grip around the reigns tightens.

Staring straight ahead in order to avoid his curious gaze, you steel your nerves and pray that your voice won't betray you.

"It's just...we've lost so many people. Jenny, Davey and we don't even know where Mac is.", you tell him and he nods. "I'm strong. If I would have been there, on that boat with the others, then maybe we wouldn't have lost anyone that day."

The look on his face is a hardened mask, an iron wall that doesn't allow a single emotion to slip through its cracks.

"You see, that's the problem when you're the strongest. You forget that them muscles are just flesh and skin and so is you. Sometimes...well, sometimes bad things happen and you can't always be there to stop it."

Not a single feature in his face flinches, but there's a storm brewing behind those blue eyes of his. It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience and you can't help but wonder just exactly who or what he must have lost to look like this. You know that he used to be engaged, but from what you know, that woman is still alive. Though you won't get anything out of him at the moment and you don't want to stick your nose into his past either.

Instead you look ahead and let his words sink in. For majority of your life you were running alone, having lost too much to those hunters. Now with the gang and everyone in it, you feel like you belong again. Although you travel around all the time, having no place to stick your roots in, you still have a home and it's them. Tilly, Javier, Hosea and the rest. Some more than others of course. You wouldn't go as far and call Micah Bell your family.

"Have you checked the cigarette card yet?", you ask to change the topic, unhappy with how much the mood has dropped.

"Yup. Did it before we left."

"And?", you push when he doesn't elaborate and he shrugs.

"I already have that one.", he answers in a matter of fact way, but the slight lift of the corner of his mouth betrays his lie.

"Fuck you, Morgan."

That makes him chuckle deeply and in the distance you see dark smoke rise up into the sky, the smoke of a fireplace. It's too far away to catch a scent, but you don't need to do that. You immediately recognize Boaz and Taima standing to the side and two men laying on their stomachs at the cliff. They're turned towards a town further ahead, both holding binoculars and you get off your horse once you reach them.

Arthur nestles himself between the two and you lay down next to Javier. When he notices you, his eyes go wide in surprise, but that is quickly being replaced by mild anger. His eyes flicker down to your bandana, a small part of the bandages still peaking through and he shakes his head.

"What are you doing here?", he asks you and you take the binoculars from him.

You're so close to him that your shoulders are nearly touching and you feel his heat rolling off his body in waves. Instinctively, you take in a deep breath to fill your nose with his scent and briefly relish in the comforting affect it has on you. Quickly you snap out of it and clear your throat.

"Wow, I'm happy to see you too, Javier.", you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm and take a closer look at Blackwater.

"I can't believe that Dutch is okay with this. You should be resting."

"Well.", Arthur chimes in. "He doesn't exactly know 'bout this."

From the whole other side, you feel the disapproving stare of Charles bore into your head and you return the binoculars back to Javier. Before you can say anything to defend your case, you hear the sound of hooves approaching and turn your head to look over your shoulder. Josiah jumps off his saddle and walks over in a crouched position.

"Ah, Miss! It's so good to see you.", he greets you and tips his hat in your direction. "I met the boys back in Valentine, but have unfortunately missed you then."

Right, you were hiding behind a wagon in some back alley during that. Pushing the memory to the far back of your mind, you manage to give him a smile.

"Good to see you too, Josiah.", you say, but then his face turns serious again.

"They're planning on taking Sean to the Upper Montana and into a federal prison.", he let's you all know and the tension in the air grows so thick that you could cut it with your hunting knife.

Arthur curses under his breath.

"We can't go and rescue him from some federal prison. We either get him now or cut him loose.", he murmurs, making your face drop.

As annoying as Sean can be, you would rather cut off your own leg than allow him to end up behind bars. You open your mouth to make your point on this clear, but Charles is faster.

"We're not cutting anyone loose.", he hisses and everyone stands up.

Josiah says that Ike Skelding's men are currently transporting him on a boat and that they're on their way to a nearby camp. You know of this Skelding, an infamous bounty hunter with a small army under his command, but that is all he is. A bounty hunter and those you can easily handle. Arthur is lost in his thoughts for a short moment while running his hand over his beard.

Then he motions towards Charles and you and points to the cliffs on the other side of the river.

"You two go up north. We'll follow the boat here.", he orders and Charles and you slip away immediately.

While riding, you pull up your bandana to cover the lower half of your face. In this area, you might not be as wanted as Dutch or Hosea for example, but you're still wanted. There is a spot in the water that is shallow enough for you to cross without a problem and you ride up the hill. While keeping an eye on the boat, you move.

Charles is oddly quiet this entire time, even more than usual and you don't miss the tension in his shoulders or that strained look on his face. His jaw is clenched, large hands gripping Taima's reigns tightly and you furrow your eyebrows in concern.

"You okay?", you break the silence and he stays quiet.

For a moment there you fear that he won't answer you, but then you hear an exhausted sigh.

"Yeah. No. I don't know."

Maybe this isn't the right place and time to talk, but you're not sure when you will have an opportunity for it next time.

"I'm sorry.", he then says and you immediately shake your head.

"No, it's okay. We don't have to talk if you don't want to.", you reassure him.

"No, that's not what I'm apologizing for." There is a pause, as if he's struggling to find the right words. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone when we went out hunting."

Hearing that makes your eyebrows shoot up in bewilderment and you just stare at him from the side. That is when you notice the dark circles under his eyes as well and the clear guilt that is written all over his face.

"You couldn't have known."

"But I should have gone out looking for you sooner.", he argues and you reach out to touch his arm.

"I'm here now, aren't I? And those bounty hunters are gone.", you answer in hopes to ease his mind at least a little bit.

A long breath leaves his nose.

"Javier told me about the guy who threatened you in Valentine."

You pull your hand away and your shoulders slump down.

"Oh.", you mumble, the sound coming out flat.

"You say that they're bounty hunters, but are they really?", he asks and meets your gaze for the first time today.

Charles is goddamn perceptive and it doesn't surprise you one bit that he doesn't believe your story. Though as much as you'd love to let it off your chest, you simply can't. Not to him, not now at least. There is one other person you have to tell about it first, one who most likely already put all the pieces together.

"I will tell you one day, but I can't right now.", you promise and he turns his head away from you to look at the boat again. "Charles, you have to trust me on this. Do you trust me?"

"Always."

A wave of relief washes over you and then the boat comes to a halt. The two of you leave your horses here and continue to sneak ahead on foot. Once you're above the group of men who are dragging Sean along, you look ahead and see Javier, Arthur and Josiah. They got off their saddles as well and you wave to let them know that you see them.

They split up, Josiah acting as a distraction (a very loud one) while Arthur and Javier take out two guys silently. You watch the latter wrestle down the man with ease and knock him out with one punch. The way he holds him down and raises his fist for a precise hit makes you feel strange. Something stirs within you, but you ignore it, wondering what has gotten into you. At this point, Josiah has left to let you all handle the rest.

Arthur and Javier are on the move again, but are being spotted this time. That is when chaos breaks loose and bullets fly through the air. There are some guys at the top of the cliff, aiming down at them and they're not too far away from you. Just as you want to fish out your pistol to shoot, two more appear infront of you, each holding a machete in their right hand.

As if on cue, Charles takes out his own and all three of them swing their weapons from side to side in a demonstration. It confuses you for a short moment and you ask yourself why he didn't reach for his gun instead. The two Skelding boys are grinning from ear to ear, a challenge lying in their expression, a silent question.

What will you do, now that we'll slice you open?

Your answer to that is a simple one. You see their blades and raise them a bullet. Without giving it much thought, you aim and pull the trigger. In an instant, they both drop dead to the ground and you throw Charles a puzzled look.

"Don't tell me you genuinely wanted to have a sword fight with those guys.", you say, voice filled with mocking and accusation.

He narrows his eyes at you and puts the machete away, but doesn't answer you. Instead you push forward and take care of the remaining men. Shortly after that, you meet back up with Javier and Arthur, who are panting and gasping for air from their uphill run. Since the camp is right ahead, you all crouch down and sneak closer.

That place is cramped with armed men and there is no way that you will be able to pull this off silently. Besides, they have all heard the shots from earlier and are now on high alert. Sean is in the middle of it all, hanging on a rope tied around his ankles and his face is bright red. If you don't get him off there soon, then things won't look too good for him, but maybe he will just pass out and then you won't have to listen to his constant yapping on the way back.

Arthur and Charles take the right side while Javier and you take on the left one. Once you all are in position, you get a nod from Arthur and peak out from your cover to fire a shot. You hit a man right in his guts and he folds like a piece of paper. The smell of fresh blood and hot gun powder fills every inch of your nose and you're thankful for the bandana over your face, although it's only helping a little bit.

Wood splinters and bullets fly around your head and you duck down low to avoid it all. More of Skelding's boys are coming from the hill on the other side of the camp and you flinch when something flies past you, too close for your taste. Hand steady, you raise your pistol and empty it in one go, hitting some and missing some. Your heart drums against your ribcage and adrenaline flows through your veins.

It's moments like this one where you feel like you could conquer the world, very much the opposite of how you reacted to the hunter in Valentine. No matter how much the odds are stacked against you, how outnumbered you are, how exhausted or injured you are, these jobs never fail to make you feel alive. With new life breathed in you, you can't stifle the laugh tearing from your throat.

It catches one of the men's attention and he just gawks at you in bewilderment. All confusion, together with the light in his eyes, fades away once you put a bullet in his skull. The four of you make quick work of the others and the few that remain, flee for the woods. Sighing you lean your back against the piled up logs and shove your pistol back into the holster. A hand appears infront of you and you grab it, letting Javier pull you back up to your feet.

His calloused skin feels warm against yours and he gives you a quick squeeze before letting go. Almost immediately you miss the contact, but shake that thought off. Instead you walk from tent to tent in search for anything worth taking and inspect a seemingly unopened bottle of fine brandy. A dull thump interrupts you, the sound of a body abruptly falling down and you watch Arthur cut the rope that is binding Sean.

You stuff the brandy into your satchel and make your way over to the men. Sean's entire face lights up when he sees you and he spreads his arms wide, inviting you for a hug. Instantly you're being hit with a wave of unpleasant smells and you wrinkle your nose.

"My God, you stink.", you comment with a wave of your hand, but he doesn't take any offense to that.

"Oh c'mon! What yer smelling is the musk of a true man!", he responds with barking laughter.

Now that you get a better look at him, you can see that one of his front teeth is missing. They must have pulled it out while interrogating him and a shiver runs down your spine when you try to imagine the pain. Granted, you have been through some shit as well, but that doesn't mean that you're okay with being in pain. Though it doesn't look like being locked up had affected Sean negatively, aside from the fact that he's chattier than usually.

All in all, he still seems in high spirits as always and even gives Arthur a friendly pat on the back as thanks for freeing him. The outlaw vaguely gestures in Javier's and your direction.

"You're ridin' with them." Then he nods towards Charles. "It's better that you leave separately."

The way he says the last part sounds like he's giving a good friend some advice and you cross both arms infront of your chest.

"Why can't he ride with you?", you ask with a frown and Sean lifts his hands in mock surrender.

"Woah, there's no need to fight over me. There's enough for everyone!", he exclaims, his words being ignored by everyone present.

Arthur takes a step closer to you, both hands on his weapon belt.

"Cause you owe me.", he answers as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and you let out an amused huff.

"I owe you huh?"

"I brought you with me, didn't I?"

Dammit, where he's right, he's right. Arthur did put his neck on the line for you by defying Dutch's orders and letting you tag along. Rolling your eyes, but keeping you mouth shut much to his satisfaction, you mount your Kentucky Saddler and point at Sean.

"You're riding with Javier.", you tell him, to which his only answer is a shrug and then he climbs onto Boaz.

The three of you ride off into the forest and you pull down your red bandana, filling your lungs with fresh air. It's about time for you to wash that thing and you reach up to scratch your neck. These bandages are itching quite a bit, but you try not to move them around too much. The ride back is a long one, longer than when you left the camp with Arthur.

That's mainly, because Sean simply refuses to shut up. He tells you about the countless interrogations and not leaving out a single detail. In fact, you're pretty sure that he's adding even more to the stories and making a lot of it up. You just can't believe him when he talks about that time he broke someone's kneecap with a single kick while still tied to a chair.

"It takes a whole army of bounty hunters to bring in Sean McGuire!", he announces at the end, sounding almost ceremonial.

"Sure, compadre.", Javier curtly answers and the mood slightly drops when the Irishman motions towards your neck.

"And what happened with you? Had a run-in with the law too or what?"

"You can say that.", you murmur while readjusting the bandana.

Thankfully Javier catches your discomfort and steers the topic away from your injuries. He fills Sean in on everything that's happened, from Colter to the Cornwall train robbery and mentioning the brawl in Valentine. Much to your relief, he leaves out the fact that you were kidnapped, but it's only a matter of time until he hears it from someone else.

It wouldn't be anything new though. Occasionally someone from the gang either gets caught by bounty hunters or the sheriff personally. Just the other day, Javier and Arthur had to go out and rescue Bill who got taken during his hunting trip. Still, you would prefer to not talk about the things you went through just two days ago.

"Tonight we'll celebrate!", Sean says and your lips curl up into a smile.

A party would do everyone good, allowing you all to forget about the unfortunate events from Blackwater and just have fun for a night. Once you reach camp, he jumps off Boaz the same second and strolls towards the fireplace with such confidence as if he owns the place. With arms spread wide once again, he declares his return from the top of his lungs like a prophet announcing the second coming of Christ.

Shaking your head, you chuckle under your breath and hitch your mare at one of the posts. Javier joins your side, leaning against the pole, looking both annoyed and amused at the same time.

"There goes our peace.", he says, making you laugh louder while you run your hand through your horse's mane.

"True."

Your laughter dies down after a few moments and you feel his gaze on you. It's intense, as if he's attempting to read you like a book and you get a sense of what's coming now.

"We gotta talk.", you speak up, deciding that you want to be the one who takes the first step.

"We sure do.", he simply answers and you look around to make sure that no one is listening.

"I'll explain everything to you tonight, during the party." You gently poke your fingers against his chest. "So don't go and get wasted, got it? It will be...complicated."

"Don't you worry about me, amiga. You just let me know when and where."

---

Liquor is flowing in rivers and the night air is filled with conversation and singing. Everyone is in high spirits, something you haven't seen since the failed boat job and it's infecting you. A lopsided grin is on your face while you listen to Karen and Uncle sing a duet at one of the tables. Further away are Dutch and Molly, swinging from side to side and staring into each other's eyes.

Next to them you spot Mary-Beth and Arthur, though their dance seems to be a little bit more clumsy. They're still having lots of fun and you let your gaze wander. More people are gathered around the  fireplace, sharing bottles of beer and whisky and you lock eyes with Javier. The flames illuminate his features in a warm, orange light and you feel your throat dry up.

What on earth has gotten into you lately? Ever since he saved you from the clutches of that hunter back in Valentine, you've been acting and feeling strange. Wasting your hours staring at him, re-memorizing his details in a different light and thinking of your friend in ways you definitely shouldn't be. Maybe you're just a bit touch starved and stressed. Yes, it has after all been a while since you felt someone's lips on yours.

Javier then raises his eyebrows in a silent question and you force yourself to focus.

Now?

If not now then when? After taking one last generous sip from your fine brandy, you stand up from the crate you're sitting on and make your way to the tree line. Sure, you told him not to drink too much, but you really need some liquid courage if you're going to pull this off. The darkness of the night, together with the dense bushes and trees swallow your form, hiding you away from curious eyes.

You tilt your head to the side and listen for footsteps following you. There they are. Javier must have waited a minute or two before leaving his own spot by the fire. But it's not like you have to be overly sneaky. Even if someone has noticed the two of you walking away into the same direction, they would think it's to hook up. And if that's what they believe, then the last thing they will do is to go and look for you.

Still, you put quite the distance between you and the camp and lean against a tree trunk with your back. Shortly after you settled, Javier shows up by your side and studies you with interest.

"So?", he starts, hooking a thumb into his belt. "You'll tell me now?"

"It's more of a demonstration.", you answer, earning a confused glance from him.

Without elaborating the meaning of your statement, you begin to remove the bandages around your neck. They will only break once you shift. Then you continue by sliding your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it onto a low and thin branch. This entire time, the outlaw watches you, not knowing what exactly to expect. In this darkness, it's difficult to make out his expression.

His dark silhouette, together with the faint colors of his clothes, is all you can see clearly out here. There are also the loose black hair strands that are framing his face and the beard, but the finer details are lost on you. Other than that, he doesn't move or talk, looking more like a statue than a man. Only when your hands move up to open the first couple of buttons of your blouse, do you get an audible reaction.

He sucks in the breath through his nose and the fabric of his blue jacket shuffles when he tenses up, but his wide eyes are still trained on you. If you're not mistaken then you see something flicker in them, a mix of different emotions. There's shock, confusion and a hint of what you can only describe as excitement. Excited for what?

"Wait, hold up. Are we doing this? Here? Really?", he stammers, sounding overwhelmed.

That's when you realize how this must look like to him and you give his shoulder a harsh shove.

"You thought I dragged you out here to sleep with you?", you ask and he raises both hands in defense.

He stumbles over his own words a few times, before bringing out a coherent sentence.

"No! Yes! I don't know? You just started taking your clothes off!"

"Because I don't want them to break.", you immediately argue, which isn't any useful information for him at all. Yet.

"Why would they break?"

Instead of answering him with words, you grab him by the shoulders and turn him away from you. While grumbling to yourself, you take off the rest of your clothes until you're entirely naked. If anyone would walk in on you now, it still would look like a hook-up, but with some weird foreplay probably. The thought makes you almost chuckle.

Though you quickly become serious again, closing your eyes and letting the shift begin. This time it hurts on some parts of your body, the stab wounds around your neck being stretched and you soon find yourself on all fours. That's another reason why you didn't want him to look. Not just because he'd see you butt naked, but also because the transformation can look pretty scarring to normal people who aren't used to this.

Your hot breath comes out in clouds through your nose and you look at Javier, who hasn't moved a single muscle. You give him some time, surely he must have noticed that you're done with preparing your so called demonstration. Then he stirs and slowly turns around to look at you. With your vision better now, you can see his face clearly.

He looks disturbed to say the least, but that is to be expected. At least there is no disgust, hatred or fear in his eyes, only the look of a person who can't comprehend what they're seeing right now. He gazes down at you, breathing out your name and you manage a nod. Obviously you can't talk like this, but answering yes and no won't be an issue. Carefully, he squats down to get on eye level with you.

Each motion is cautious as he watches you like a hawk, halfway expecting you to just be a wild animal after all and pounce on him to sink your teeth into his flesh. You don't miss the fact that his right hand is close to his revolver this entire time and you do your best to avoid any sudden movements. There is not a single drop of doubt within you, he can and will shoot you.

With an unsure hand, he reaches out and his fingers brush over your fur. Your eyes flutter shut, not wanting to stare him down and unnerve him that way. His touch is like a soft breeze caressing the tip of your hair, but it leaves as fast as it had come. Without another word, he straightens himself back up and turns around, so that you can shift back.

Now you stand before him, fully clothed and staring into his face, searching for any sign that could give away his thoughts. Though his expression is an unmoving mask and you feel your anxiety growing with each passing second of silence.

"Say something, Javier."

He runs his hand through his hair and lowers his gaze in an attempt to avoid your pleading sight.

"Will you kill me now?", you ask, internally cursing yourself out for letting your voice crack.

"No.", he immediately answers, almost sounding offended at your question.

"But you hate me."

"Dios mio.", he mutters in frustration and then grabs both your shoulders. "No, I...this...it's just a lot. I need time."

"Of course. Sorry."

He pulls away from you and you nearly lean forward in order to keep his touch. You bury your face in one hand as you listen to him leave to return back to camp.

Good Lord, you really need that fine brandy right now.

Taglist: @zizizi-blogs

[sludge-saturday]

crossing the line we walk

pairing: arthur morgan x charles smith (charthur)

summary: arthur morgan is a simple man with simple needs. he doesn't see himself fit for doing much else than the dirty work of others - and he likes it that way. though used to working alone, he will accept working with other gang members when dutch deems it fitting. this includes the help of the group's newest addition, charles, who has caught arthur's eye since the day he joined. but why? was this admiration? respect? ...attraction?

whatever it was, arthur is confident he can take care of it on his own. we'll see how long that lasts.

tags: nsfw, +18 (MDNI), flirting, yearning, secret hard-on, confessions, fervent kissing, heavy petting, frotting/dry humping, spit as lube, mutual handjob, mutual orgasm, cum eating, slight angst

warnings: brief mentioning of murder/robbery, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, arthur's typical self-hatred, bar fight ensues, brief mention of homophobia, internalized homophobia, possible ooc

word count: ~7k

a/n: hoooowheee this is a long one! first time writing for them AND my first time writing a fic this long, i hope you enjoy! i tried to make it seem more official and professional by actually using capitalization so if it seems out of place from my usual stuff that's why! i also know some parts could have been elaborated upon more and seem a little rushed but this thing is so long already i didn't want to be boring lol. i love my gay cowboys so much these two are so special to me, as always feedback is encouraged!! hope you enjoy love you <3

A “plan.” That’s what Dutch van der Linde always had. No elaboration, no questions asked. And he expected his disciples to follow along. So, for the past week, Arthur and Charles have been tirelessly working towards carrying out his orders as they were always sent to do. They performed stake-outs, planned hits, and executed their take-downs—whatever it took to adhere to their leader's will—all while staying hidden and keeping a low profile. Far away from the rest of the gang and from their home, they couldn’t screw this one up. And come the day of the big hit, they had everything scheduled to a tee. Where they needed to be, who they needed to meet, how it all had to happen was rehearsed and memorized by the two of them on the days leading up to it. The stakes couldn't have been higher, but they trusted each other. They knew each other's capabilities and were confident they would succeed.

With a few distractions, stealth kills (much to Charles’s disapproval), and a bit of thievery and shootouts here and there, Arthur and Charles would walk away from this mission with bruised bodies and bundles of cash. Dutch would be pleased, which is all that really mattered. He gets what he wants, and today was no exception. The ride back to their camp was quiet, a comfortable silence as they both decompressed after the dust had settled. Arthur rolls his shoulder and winces, a reminder of how close they were to defeat today. The sunset was nothing short of beautiful as it cast long shadows across their path, the hoofbeats of Boadicea and Taima being the only sound breaking the quiet. Arriving at their camp which was carefully tucked away beneath the thick boughs of forest, they made sure that they left no trace behind. The smell of pine and dirt clung to their noses as they packed up, saying goodbye to the small sense of safety this area had to offer. Charles turns to Arthur with a quirked corner of his mouth as he stows his belongings on Taima.

"Want to celebrate over a drink or two?" he pulls out a map from a satchel, studying their whereabouts. "The town nearby is sure to have a bar, only about ten minutes from here."

Arthur smiles softly. "You read my mind. C'mon, now. Let's get going so we can get the goods back to camp soon as we can." 

The two mount their horses as he finishes speaking, taking one last look at where they stayed to make sure nothing looks suspicious. Satisfied with their clean-up job, Arthur nods and the two of them take off. The shimmer of the fireflies around them become ambiguous specks in the evening dim as the men leave the forest edge. They traveled along the roadside packed dirt that crunched under the hooves of the horses, who occasionally would spook at the barking and howling of coyotes.

The repetitive nature of watching their surroundings passing by prompts Arthur to become lost in thought. The donations in the van der Linde gang’s collection box were slim to none, and time was running out to do something about it. Skipped dinners and under-equipped operations could only last so long before things took a turn for the worse. And he wondered just what Dutch was going to do about it. He always spoke highly about their future as a group, but Arthur—and the rest of the gang—still has yet to see those claims come to fruition. He would never, ever question Dutch or falter in his loyalty, though, so he lets this thought float away in the wind blowing past him. Instead, he watches Charles’s form as he steers Taima from right to left on this winding path they tread. With eyes glued to his broad shoulders, his thick black hair hanging freely, and his hips moving smoothly with the horse, Arthur's heart flutters the same way it did when the pair first met. 

But if Charles ever knew about his secret infatuation… it would be over for them. Images of his betrayed face and a future of nothing but distance between the two flashed through his mind. He knew he could never bring it up, so he needed to be careful. Careful about his lingering gaze in camp, careful about the confessions in his journal, and careful about the heaving sighs and quiet gasps coming from his tent when everyone else is asleep and Arthur can't stop thinking about him. He struggled to fight off a feeling of hopelessness that settled into his chest and tightened his grip on the reins. Could he really keep this a secret forever? 

Shaken from his thoughts, Arthur could see the small town come into view, alight with the glow of oil lamps and the bustle of nightlife. The moonlight casts white highlights on the picturesque scene of orange, yellow, brown, and black. They slowed their pace as they approached the town, scanning the buildings for any sign of a bar. Their eyes landed on one in the middle of town with "SALOON" painted in a giant white font across the front. Hitching their horses at the designated spot in front and feeding them in appreciation for their hard work, the two make their way to the front doors and swing them open.

The first second of entering the saloon is a blur of light and noise. The pianist in the corner’s lively tune struggles to compete with the dozens of overlapping conversations. Angry fists bang on tables as they face an unlucky round of poker and drunken bursts of laughter popcorn throughout the room, which was near-full. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and the yeasty tang of spilled beer. The floors creaked probably a little more than they were supposed to as Arthur’s gaze brushes past a few wanted posters. Luckily, no one he recognizes has their face plastered on the frayed yellow paper. He hears snippets of different conversations, some chatter about rival gangs here and rumors of undercover Pinkerton agents there. Walking up to the bar Arthur slaps two coins onto the counter, worn with dried rings of ale and knife gouges. Stories from past patrons. 

“Two mugs,” he says lowly. 

Charles shoots him a look and goes to replace one of the coins with one of his own when his hand is shooed away. "Easy. 's on me tonight."

Before Charles can respond, the barkeep has already taken the two coins and is beginning to pour them both a pint of beer. He slides the mugs towards the men and they grab their respective handles. Arthur raises his glass. 

"To a job well done. Ya did good work out there t'day." Arthur gestures with it, tilting the mug towards Charles slightly. 

Charles smiles and it's genuine. Warm and thankful. "You did too, Arthur."

The two smack their glasses on the bar before tilting their heads back and taking a large gulp. Arthur sucks his teeth and exhales on the swallow. "Strong stuff!" 

Charles hums in acknowledgement and chuckles. "The taste is good, though. Malty and dark."

Arthur watches Charles's eyes close as he savors the flavor and thinks that he has never looked more handsome than in this moment. His pulse quickens when he studies Charles’s face. The warm lamplight of the saloon casts beautiful shadows across his nose, cheeks, and lips. He looks content, relaxed. It’s a refreshing deviance from his usual weathered and stoic appearance. The two sip from their mugs again.

Scanning the crowd Arthur wonders how many of these people are regulars. “These folks, blowin’ their coin on drinks and cards… how d'ya think they do it?”

Charles sighs. “Out of desperation. They’re tryin’ to forget.”

“Forget about what?”

“That they’re not goin’ anywhere.”

Arthur pauses for a second. “Reckon you’re probably right.”

Charles has now joined Arthur in watching the sea of people. “See that woman at the poker table?” He covertly points in her direction. 

“Yeah.”

“She’s better than the whole lot of ‘em.”

“Really? Wasn’t payin’ attention.”

“You should have been. She’s sharper than most men.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” Arthur raises his glass once more. “Reckon the world would be a whole lot better if we quit underestimatin’ folks.”

Looking down at his now empty mug, Arthur palms another two coins to the barkeep as a silent request for a refill. He’s buzzing, sure, but he’s looking for just a little more. “Make two whiskeys,” he notifies the man behind the counter with the wave of his hand. Within seconds, two glasses are pushed their way and Arthur wastes no time in letting his curiosity get the best of him. But not before their fingers brush each other as they reach for their glasses. Arthur hesitates for a brief moment and, unbeknownst to him, Charles notices. They sip from their glasses quietly and refuse to acknowledge it.

Arthur tries to break the ice. “Y’know, you’re good at this—blendin’ in. Not everyone can do that without landin’ themselves in some kinda trouble.”

“You’re makin’ it sound like a compliment.”

“Maybe it is,” Arthur says quietly. He turns to face behind the bar and takes another swig. He notices that Charles smiles more when he’s drunk. It's a refreshing deviance from his usual weathered and stoic demeanor.

His thoughts are paused when the screeching of chair legs and abrupt shouting clamors behind the two. By the time they turned around, two of the men who were sitting at the poker table were now throwing punches at one another and spitting obscenities in each other’s faces. Within seconds, the saloon becomes a flurry of pandemonium. People either joined in on the fight, stood and watched, or hurried out the door. Tables crashed and chairs were thrown as Arthur and Charles exchanged a shared look that read: we need to get out of here. The only problem was that in order to get out of the trouble they needed to go through it. 

They decided their best bet would be to stay on the outskirts of the calamity. If they didn’t initiate they wouldn’t get involved, right? That was the assumption as they quickly walked along one of the saloon walls. Charles led the way and the procedure was going smoothly until one of the inebriated brawlers lunged towards him. Without thinking, Arthur moves to shield Charles from his assailant and pushes the man away with brute force. “Don’t even think about it, partner!” He growls. The man falls into a table that managed to stay upright, shouting at the two who are now jogging out of the completely upturned saloon. The doors fly open as Arthur and Charles mount their disgruntled horses as fast as they can. 

“Hyah!” Arthur urgently knicks Boadicea with his stirrups. He can’t help but think about what they would have done to Charles had they gotten their hands on him. His stomach coiled at the thought. The bluster from the saloon fades into the background as Charles follows Arthur to the nearby post office, which was a safe enough distance from the town. Adrenaline is still surging through Arthur’s body when he hops off his horse, still panting. Charles does the same. 

“You’re damn lucky that didn’t go worse. Try explainin’ that one to Dutch.”

One of Charles’s eyebrows raises in amusement. “You worried about me?”

Arthur mutters under his breath as he looks back in the town's direction. “Someone’s gotta keep you in one piece.”

He paws at his pockets in search of his cigarettes. He needed to distract himself and singe the hell out of these hidden feelings until they finally left him alone. Finally, his fingers settled on the box of cigarettes he kept inside his jacket and he pulled it out, selecting one from the bunch. 

"Want one?"

"No, thank you," Charles waves a hand toward Arthur and he nods in understanding. 

Reaching into the pocket where he usually keeps his matches, Arthur's hand comes up empty and he sighs. 

"Dammit..."

"What's wrong?" he hears from beside him.

Turning towards the other man with just a hint of bashfulness, Arthur's eyebrows raise when he sees that Charles’s hand is already holding a match. 

"Need a light?"

He exhales in relief. "I owe ya." 

Arthur goes to reach for the match but Charles moves his hand away, almost teasingly. 

"Let me." 

The smile playing on his lips is something Arthur can't make sense of. It seemed playful, frisky, maybe even seductive. Like he knew what he was doing. But surely it had to be the drink talking. Surely Arthur was reading way too far into things, like he always did. Surely there was no way Charles was trying to do what Arthur thinks he’s doing. 

He strikes the match against the bottom of his boot and the flame flickers to life. Stepping toward Arthur, Charles holds the open flame up to the cigarette hanging off of his lips. He cups the side of the flame to shield it from the wind and Arthur cannot take his eyes off of him. The flame in between their faces, their proximity to each other, the subtle display of dominance, it was almost too much for him to bear. He has never been this intimate with another man before, let alone with Charles . For a split second, he was frozen in place and all he could do was stare. Luckily Charles was looking at the end of the cigarette—making sure his aim was right—briefly oblivious of Arthur's awe-stricken face. That is, until Charles's eyes met his.

Arthur's heart was in his throat as he sucks in, aiding the lighting of the cigarette. 

“There you go.” Charles shakes out the match.

Taking the cigarette between his thumb and pointer finger and pulling it from his mouth, Arthur exhales the smoke with the slightest shake in his breath. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand and Charles chuckles.

“What’s the matter, Arthur? Can’t handle a little closeness?”

He shakes his head. "We better get a move-on. We'll ride 'til we can't then find a place to sleep for the night." 

Charles nods, already mounting his horse. "Let's go, then."

As they ride along the pathways leading them back to the rest of the gang at camp, Arthur cannot shake the image of Charles lighting his cigarette from his mind. His half lidded eyes, his drunken smile, strands of hair falling in his face… he looked so, so handsome. Not only that, but he looked like he was doing it intentionally . And Arthur had absolutely no idea what to do with that information. Was this a subtle hint at something more than what they currently had? No, no. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t get his hopes up like that.

Arthur knew how people felt about men like him. He’d seen the way they were treated and heard the words that were spat at them: weak, dirty, shameful. And who was he to disagree? For all he knew they were probably right. How could someone like him feel something like this? It’s not right—it's not safe. For either of them. But when Arthur looks at him, laughs with him, it’s as if he finally understands what makes his being here worthwhile. What being alive means. It’s unlike anything Arthur has ever felt before. But if Charles ever found out, Arthur would be risking the loss of the most important person in his life right now. He didn't want to have to hide this forever, but he was preparing for that reality. Remaining hopeful could be the death of him, but so would denial. So hopeful he would remain. Hopeful that Charles felt it too. Whatever it was.

It was easy for Arthur to get inside his own head while traveling on horseback. The sound of the hooves on the ground and the wind in his ears served as white noise, making it way too easy for him to zone out. And when they rode like this for hours on end with little conversation, the circumstances couldn't be more perfect to start ruminating. To start wallowing.

The hours came and went as the pair continued their trek until the moon was high in the sky, the only thing illuminating their path. It almost felt oppressive, urging Arthur to spill everything. The weather was comfortable, late July offering the occasional breeze amidst the humid air. It hung heavy, almost as much as the tension between them when Charles slowed his horse. 

“We should stop for the night. We’re close, but we need to stay sharp when we’re riding with all this loot."

Drowsiness settles into Arthur’s bones. He couldn't tell if the drink was starting to make him sleepy or if the day's events were finally catching up to him. Either way, Charles was right.

"Yeah," he mumbles, scanning a nearby wood. "Let's find somewhere to set up." 

He leads the way through the brush and the forest is alive with sounds of the night. Crickets chirped and leaves rustled, overlaid with the muffled clopping of their horses as they trod over the occasional patch of moss. Arthur thinks of Dutch again. Even when the two of them are this far away from the eyes that pry, he can’t get rid of the feeling that nowhere will ever be truly safe for people like him. Like the chances he and Charles have to be with one another grow slimmer and slimmer as Dutch’s plans grow riskier and riskier. He wonders if the freedoms that come with being in this gang are costing him his own. His thoughts tangled like the canopy above them.

"Good here?" he calls back to Charles.

Charles’s feet land to the ground with a gentle thud . “Perfect.”

The two of them hitch their horses and begin unloading their belongings: their bedrolls, their tents, and their earnings today which they kept hidden. The forest was dense here—its twisting branches and impenetrable lines of shrubbery making it the perfect location to occupy. Charles, ever the pragmatist, pulls out a knife and begins stripping a tree of some of its bark. While he does this Arthur looks for twigs and low-hanging branches to pull off. The jagged wood is no match for his calloused hands, hardened from years upon years of dirty work. Together the two of them build a cone-shaped construction of everything they’ve gathered and Charles takes out his set of matches. Arthur sharply inhaled a microscopic breath as everything about that moment at the post office comes back in an overwhelm of warmth. In his face, his neck, his chest, and, most unfortunately, his groin.

He panics. He cannot let Charles see this, can't let Charles know how much he is getting to him. The fabric around his crotch feels tighter and tighter as he sits down on his bedroll and takes off his hat. Maybe the change of position will act in his favor. Charles doesn't seem to notice as he lights the match with a spare piece of bark, striking it on the bottom of his boot just as he did before. If Arthur couldn't feel any more flustered, this is what pushed him over the edge. God, he was so enchanting. Charles doesn't seem to notice Arthur’s lingering gaze and with some maneuvering of the bark and a little bit of hope, the fire eventually becomes well lit.

“Should last through the night.” Charles takes a seat next to Arthur on his own bedroll and the two stare into the fire in silence. Arthur doesn't know what to say. He can't move, obviously, but Charles is the first to speak. 

"I've been thinking about what you said, Arthur. “About how you're proud of me 'n everything." O h god . Here it comes . He prepared for the worst. For Charles to question his sudden displays of affection, for him to see right through his façade, for him to understand Arthur for who he really was, disgusted and revolted. Charles turns toward Arthur, eyes cast down towards the ground. 

"I'm proud of you, too." He lifts his head and meets Arthur's gaze. 

As soon as he does Arthur looks away and involuntarily shakes his head, not conditioned to receive this kind of compliment. Or any compliment, for that matter. 

"You don't gotta say that, Charles. Ain't nothing’ I've done’s worth bein’ proud of."

"I disagree." 

Charles is leaning back on one of his hands, his whole body oriented to face Arthur. Now he has the man's attention. Arthur looks at him, unable to tear his eyes away from how tantalizing Charles looks in front of him right now. His normally buttoned-up-to-the-collar shirt is unbuttoned halfway, exposing just enough chest to get Arthur feeling even hotter under the collar. The moonlight reflects in his eyes and they shine brighter than anything this universe could offer. His face is sincere, with a twinge of admiration. 

"You've got a lot to be proud of, anyway."

Arthur sighs. How is he supposed to respond? All his life he has done nothing but steal, lie, cheat, and kill. And where has it gotten him? Sure, he had a place to sleep, food to eat, and a bit of money to spend, but at what cost? 

"I'm not a good man, Charles. There's plenty of things I wish I hadn't done."

"But you're not a bad one either." 

Charles scooches closer to him, closing even more distance between the two. Arthur stares at the fire, afraid that he won't be able to stop himself from confessing if Charles comes any closer.

"No one is perfect. No one is immune to making mistakes and realizing that it's okay to make them is part of being human. I know what you've done. I've seen what you're capable of." 

Arthur shrugs as if trying to shake off Charles's words. Getting this personal makes him more uncomfortable than he'd like to admit. It was like an involuntary aversion to expressing emotions. When it came to Charles, though, he craved it. He needed it like he needed air.

"But what you're capable of isn't all of who you are." Charles's voice is gentle, the soft crackle of the fire accentuating his speech. An owl hoots in the distance and Arthur can do nothing more than keep staring into the fire. 

"You take care of those you care about, even if you know it or not. You're loyal. Your wit is quick. You're as protective as they get and you're a hell of a shot." Charles lifts a hand in emphasis and Arthur turns to look at him. “You’ve got this grit, this air of determination that makes it hard not to watch you at work. With endurance as impressive as yours, it’s no wonder you’re this tough.” 

Arthur decided enough was enough. He needed to know Charles's intentions, if there were even any to begin with. 

"Why’re you telling me this?"

Charles sighs and, for the first time tonight, seems hesitant to speak. 

"Because..." 

Arthur waits with bated breath.

"Because you're different. I've met a lot of people in my life, good and bad, and I've never met one like you. At all. I don't feel that way about just anyone." Charles shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this. must be the drink talkin'." He turns his body back to face toward the fire and yawns. "I can’t stay awake for much longer anyway.." 

Charles moves to lay down on his bedroll and Arthur contemplates. It's now or never . This really could make or break them, but he just couldn't wait anymore. Months and months of this longing and no action meant he needed to grab the bull by the horns and accept whatever consequence may come of it. The knot in his stomach felt like dead weight as he prepared to speak.

"Charles-" his voice wavers.

He is attentive, ready to listen.. 

"I... thank you. I can't remember the last time someone talked to me like that. Feels different." Arthur gives him a half smile. 

"Don't worry 'bout it." Charles is the first to break the silence and leans on his palm, this time towards Arthur. 

"You mean a lot to me, Arthur. Whatever happens in the future, 'm never gonna forget you."

Arthur feels like he could cry. "Me neither." 

He says it quietly, scared that if he said it louder it could mean more than it already does. Heart in his throat, his gaze retreats back to the fireplace. 

"C'mere," Charles reaches out an arm to pull Arthur into an embrace. Arthur accepts the invitation and hugs back with a single arm, patting him on the back.

The pair stay like that for a second before pulling away, but Charles doesn’t release Arthur fully so that their heads are but inches from each other. They lock eyes and scan each other's faces for any hint of this being territory best left uncharted. Neither of them retreat. Arthur is frozen solid, sure that he already fell asleep and was dreaming at this point. He blinks in disbelief. Charles brings the hand that was on Arthur's back up to the side of his neck. His touch is gentle, unsure. His eyes flutter shut and he quickly leans in, pressing his lips against Arthur's.

Arthur's brain short-circuits. This wasn't happening. No, it couldn't be happening. What should he do? How should he react? He can't let Charles know how much he wanted this. How willing he was to accept this. Almost instinctively, he grabs a fistful of Charles's shirt and pushes him away before the kiss lasts too long. His eyes are wide and confused. Charles pulls back with a concerned expression, looking worried that he stepped too far.

"I'm sorry-"

Arthur is practically panting at this point. He feels wild and alive, unable to resist this temptation. but he still contemplates. What will come of this? Will this change the way they see each other for good? How are they going to keep this under wraps at camp, if things don't fall apart first? His thoughts are moving a mile a minute but he can't find it in himself to focus on anything except how Charles's lips felt against his. He needs another taste.

Arthur surges forward, overtaken by something stronger than he'll ever be. He pulls Charles towards him by the shirt his fist is still clenching and locks lips with him again. He was set on a mission of a new kind now. He needed this. He needed Charles . Arthur's other hand pulls him even closer by the waist, clutching the man like he was afraid he would wake up from this dream if he let go.

Charles does not hesitate to return Arthur's kiss and touch, one hand still resting on the side of his neck while the other grips his shoulder just as tightly. Their lips move together quickly and urgently as if every parting of them could have been the last. Taking initiative, Arthur moves on top of Charles and straddles him with his legs. Charles moves to lean back onto his elbows and the feverish kissing never ceases even with all of the movement. One of his legs is still propped up, though, and during the maneuver his knee brushes against Arthur's crotch.

It's at this point that Arthur does something that he is almost certain he has never done in front of another man before. Through parted lips, he moans into Charles's mouth. Sounding more adjacent to a groan mixed with a sigh, his knuckles tighten and he grinds onto Charles's thigh experimentally, just a little bit. Charles pulls away and grabs Arthur by the waist, pausing their interaction. Arthur feels another anxious pang in his stomach. Was he being too much? Was he taking things too fast? Is this not where Charles wanted this to go?

His nerves are soothed when he feels Charles lay down with one leg propped up and begins to move his hips for him up and down his thigh. "There you go, Arthur. 'S okay." He mumbles. Arthur's hair hangs in front of his face and he huffs in pleasure as he rubs his aching hard-on against Charles's leg. Any remnants of disbelief that this was what they both wanted have dissipated. This is real .

Arthur leans down to kiss Charles once more and he's so far gone that he doesn't give second thought to swiping his lips with the tip of his tongue. Now, it's the other man's turn to moan. It's low and rumbly, a grunt of pleasure. He brings his hands up to thread his fingers through the hair at Arthur's nape and he tugs slightly. Arthur moans, fully moans this time and shuts his eyes at the sensation. He rubs his cock against Charles's leg with more purpose now, desperate for something other than this fabric-covered friction. Hearing the other man’s noises was only fuel for the fire.

Charles takes note of this, sitting back up and lightly pushing Arthur back so that he's sitting on his ankles. He smooths a hand from Arthur's pectoral to his shoulder and rubs in that motion for a second while his eyes are directed elsewhere. Specifically, at Arthur's crotch. The print of his hardened cock stood out against his pants and Arthur swore he could have seen Charles's tongue wet his lower lip as he studied his lower half. The hand rubbing Arthur's chest moves down to the side of his waist and slides onto the top of his thigh to rub in circles again.

Arthur sighs and peers shyly at Charles, afraid to make another move. He never expected it to go this far, but he wasn't complaining. Just painfully hesitant. Charles looks back at him and flicks his eyes downward to Arthur's erection. 

"You're really somethin’, you know that?" a smile threatens to play on his lips. 

Arthur moves to close his legs. “Ah, I’m sorry Charles, I didn’t mean to-"

“Shh, let me help. It’s okay.” 

Butterflies swarm in Arthur’s stomach and a wave of heat pools into his cock. They really were about to do this. He slowly spreads his legs again. There was no backing down now. His breath shudders silently as he unclasps his belt buckle, unloops it, and unbuttons his pants. He reaches his hand beneath the fabric and palms himself, groaning at the feeling of his cock finally being touched. Charles hums in approval when Arthur unbuttons the bottom buttons of his union suit and finally frees his length. It springs up and presses against Arthur’s abdomen. 

“May I?” Charles asks, ever the gentleman. “...please?”

Arthur feels as though he could cum on the spot. Here before him was the man whose touch he has longed for for months on end, begging to put his hands on his cock. How could he refuse?

“Yes, yes. Please.” Arthur’s tone is teetering on one of pure desperation. He couldn’t wait any longer. 

Gingerly, gently, Charles takes Arthur’s cock into his calloused hand. He strokes it with his thumb to start and Arthur lets out a puff of breath he didn’t know he was holding. Charles moves his whole hand and pumps the shaft slowly. Arthur guessed that he wasn’t a fan of the friction, because he removed his hand not long after and spit into his palm, returning it to keep rubbing. He moves his confident grip down to the base of Arthur’s cock all the way up to the tip, thumbing the head in order to evenly spread the makeshift lubrication. 

Charles repeats this motion a few more times and Arthur is noisier than he thought he would be. Every movement of Charles’s hand, every time his fingers just grazed near his balls, every time he used his thumb to swipe the top of the head had Arthur squirming. His legs twitched and his abdomen was taut, knees occasionally folding and unfolding as he quietly moaned. 

“Charles, fuck- you’re really good at this. Haah- ah AH!” Arthur keened when Charles hit a particularly sensitive spot, the slit on his cock’s head, white pearls of precome beading at the tip. He was dangerously close to orgasming and didn’t want this to end so soonーnot when they were just getting started. He pries Charles’s hand away from his cock and moves to kiss him instead. Arthur leans into Charles and he is invited in, Charles spreading his legs for Arthur to come even closer. And when Arthur moves to his knees, cock bouncing freely, it’s his turn to accidentally brush his leg against Charles’s crotch. And the poor man is rock hard. 

Another swarm of butterflies flutter in Arthur’s stomach. Not only was Charles pleasuring him, but he was getting pleasure out of it too. He can’t help but smile and look down to the bulge in Charles’s pants.

“Looks like you need some help yourself there.” 

Charles’s face flusters and he looks at the ground for a second. “Maybe I do.” He peers up at Arthur through his lashes, subtly taking his bottom lip between his teeth. 

As if agreeing without words, both sets of hands fumble to undo the buttons and clasps on Charles pants. This time there is more tenacity in their motions, both eager to bring this moment to the next level. Within a few seconds Charles’s cock springs free from his pants and Arthur cannot believe what he is seeing. He lets out a low whistle as he eyes up and down the absolute monster that is the man’s cock. 

“Look at you…” he breathes. 

Arthur doesn’t want to waste anymore time on timidness. He spits into his hand just as Charles had done earlier and goes to grab the shaft. To say that he is amazed by Charles’s girth is an understatement when he feels the sheer weight of his erection. And it’s so long . 

“Ohmy- Arthur!” Charles is breathing heavily now and throws his head back as he moans. 

Arthur’s cock is leaking from the sound and state of Charles right now. Disheveled and drunk with pleasure, his chest heaving and his mouth hung open, Arthur wonders what else he could do to draw out a reaction like this. He never knew that Charles had this side to him, kept well-hidden underneath an inclination for silence and isolation ever since he met him. He never would have thought in a million years that he and Charles would be where they are right now. Whatever higher power is out there that allowed them to come together like this, Arthur thanks it silently. 

As aroused and excited as Arthur is, he is still just as nervous. He’s never held a cock in his hands that wasn’t his own. He gives a slow hesitant stroke from the base to just underneath the head, just like how he would do in his tent when he was sure there was no one left awake. Charles hisses through his teeth and Arthur shoots him a worried glance, his grip on his cock easing. Does he not like it? Does it hurt? Is he doing it wrong? Anxiously, he waits for Charles to say something.

“Please-” he breathes. “You’re teasing… just- just go a little faster. You won’t hurt me.” He makes intense eye contact with Arthur, eyebrows upturned as he pleads. 

Arthur leans in to kiss Charles and it’s reassuring for the both of them. A means to continue. With a more sure grip this time, Arthur strokes up and down Charles’s cock with a slightly quicker pace. Not too fast, but not too slow either. He knows it’s just the right pace with the reactions he’s pulling out of Charles, too. He bucks his hips, runs his hand through his hair and tries to cover his mouth with the back of it. Almost as if he wants to hide his face. And Arthur can’t let that slide. 

“Lemme see ya. Ain’t nothin’ to be hidin’ yourself for.” He pulls Charles’s hand away. 

Unbridled and unable to control himself following Arthur’s sweet words, Charles takes the hand that was covering his face and wraps it around the back of Arthur’s neck as his cock continues to be stroked. Arthur’s hand moves up and down, back and forth, and Charles squirms while trying not to touch himself too. Instead, he decides to release this energy by reaching for Arthur’s cock, which was red and drooling. Arthur doesn’t expect this at all, he was so focused on pleasuring Charles that he almost whimpers when he feels the contact. 

He laughs quietly at Arthur’s reaction. “‘M sorry, just couldn’t help myself.” 

Sound of slick skin and hushed moans harmonized with the night ambience surrounding them. Their lips were wet with spit as they kissed unabashedly now with open mouths. Arthur’s free hand paws at Charles’s chest, slipping beneath his shirt and squeezing his pectoral. Charles’s grip on Arthur’s waist is firm and shows no sign of loosening as his shirt hangs off of his left shoulder from Arthur’s incessant palming. His eyes squeeze shut. He’s close. 

“That feel good, big guy?” Charles smooths back some of the hair that fell into Arthur���s face. 

He whines in response and moves his hand to clasp behind Charles’s head, pulling their faces together until their foreheads touch. The way Charles was touching him had him dizzy and aching for release. And he could tell the feeling was mutual. Their strokes were faster now, both ready to push each other over the edge as they looked straight into each other’s eyes. The deep brown of Charles's irises as they reflected the moonlight was alluring, pulling Arthur further under his spell. 

“Charles, I-...’M gonna…”

“It’s okay,” he huffs. “Me too.”

With upturned eyebrows and mouths hanging open, the two reached their climax. Arthur threw his head back and looked down with Charles at the sight of their hands on each other’s cocks, spurting silky white ropes.

“Holy shit, Charles- ah AH! Fuck!” Arthur is groaning with each rise and fall of his chest.

Charles chokes out a moan, quieter than Arthur when he comes.

Their cocks twitch as the come lands on their stomachs and rolls down their hands. Milking each other for every last drop, their fingers are coated with a hot sheen of each other’s seed. Charles moves in to kiss Arthur as they come down from their high. They’re gentler now, as if to say: it’s alright, I’m here . He pets Arthur’s head and pushes back his hair to plant a kiss on his forehead. 

Arthur’s head is spinning, still in disbelief of what happened. Charles lifts his hand to lick the cum off his fingers and Arthur swears if he didn’t just orgasm he would have gotten hard all over again. He figures he should do the same, wanting to prove something he wasn’t sure of to Charles. His tongue makes contact with his sticky hand and it slides from the base of his fingers to their tips, and across the back of his hand. He makes a point to keep eye contact with Charles as he does this and he swears he can see Charles smirk. The taste is bitter but he doesn’t recoil, savoring the feeling of him—the very essence of him—in his mouth. He swallows every last drop and secretly wishes there were more. Maybe there would be, in due time. 

Charles’s voice breaks through his wishful thinking, wiping his hand on his pants. “We’ll change into fresh clothes in the morning.”

A yawn moves through Arthur’s chest and throat, his jaw dropping and his eyes drooping. He hasn’t come that hard in a while, if ever and it left him exhausted. But he couldn’t ignore this rising feeling in his chest, the kind of feeling he would get when Dutch was disappointed in him. Like he had done something wrong. The reality of what they had done set in quickly for Arthur and he scowls at the ground. All his life he’s been taught that encounters like this were reserved for between men and women. Any deviation from that and you were defective, in need of fixing. He felt broken . 

“Hey, you alright?” Charles reaches toward Arthur but his hand is pushed away. 

“Don’t you realize what we’ve done?” Arthur frowns. “We can’t tell anyone what happened here.”

Charles looks at him for a moment, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. “And what exactly did we do, Arthur?”

“You know, Charles. You know damn well.” 

“No… tell me. What are you so afraid of?”

Arthur’s eyes welled up with tears, the lump in his throat threatening to spill them.

“I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Silence.

“I can’t stop feelin’ like this and it's drivin’ me mad.”

“Arthur-”

“I can’t lose you, Charles.” A single tear falls down his cheek.

He tries reaching for Arthur again, slower this time as not to spook him.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise.” 

Arthur lets him in this time. He lets Charles hold him in his arms as he weeps and he lays them down on their bed rolls, sheltered by their shared tent and warmed by the fire beside them.

“Don’t know if I can keep goin’ like this,” he sniffles. 

“But now you know that you don’t have to do it alone.”

The two of them are facing each other as they lay, surrounded by the sounds of the night. It was comforting, tranquil and quiet. The fire crackled and popped and fabric rustled as Charles rubs Arthur’s arm, hand coming up to rest on his cheek. He thumbs his tears away and kisses it softly. “Lately I’ve been thinkin’ about what matters to me.”

Physically and emotionally exhausted, all Arthur can do is listen.

“It used to be family. Then it was survival. But now I’m certain of it, and it ain’t Dutch or the money or the goddamn plan.”

Arthur’s eyes threaten to close. 

“It’s you.”

The stars shone brightly above them as Arthur fell asleep in Charles’s embrace. He sifts through the speckling of white on the night sky to find the brightest one and he pulls Arthur closer, fingers threading through his hair. He isn’t one for making wishes, but as he stares he hopes that this is only beginning for them. The thin line they walked had now been crossed, and they were going to weather whatever storm may come—together.