Everyone Forgot About Flaco - Flaco Hernández x GN-Reader
A/N: Here you go, anon 💕 I hope you like it!
TAGS: Spoiler Free, SFT, Gender-Neutral Reader (Slight Fem leaning), Fluff, Budding Love, Soft-hearted but grumpy Flaco
Flaco thinks everyone forgot about him, but he couldn't be more wrong.
1,538 words
-♥-
Your frozen gloved hands gripped the reins tighter as you thought about what he had said.
“You ever think you ain’t got no friends left? That you’re all alone in the world? Everyone forgot… everyone forgot about Flaco.”
You hissed a curse under your breath; the sound manifesting itself as a small white cloud in the frigid air. The audacity of that man. How dare he say that to you after you rode for days into the freezing mountains just to see him. Sure, he paid you for your time, but there were so many less troublesome ways to make the same money. You came up here for him and him alone.
Apparently that meant nothing to him. Not that you were surprised. It wasn’t as though you made a song and dance about it. But to discredit your presence as a lack of friendship stung. Even though he meant it about his old friends and not you, you couldn’t help but feel hurt by his words. Did he really feel that nobody cares about him anymore?
The thought made your heart heavy. It wasn’t true. You cared about him more than you’d dare to admit. Perhaps you should tell him. Even if he laughed or rejected your feelings, at least he would know about them. At least he might feel he still mattered. You drew back the reins, bringing your horse to a halt. You were already halfway to the Dakota river, but you turned your horse around and urged them back the way you had come.
-♥-
The ride back to his cabin took a good chunk of your day. Even with your determined urgency, the thick snow and thin air made it a difficult task for your horse. By the time you reached the frozen lake, it was sunset. The icy mirror reflected the burnt orange glow of the dying sun, leaving you with the impression you were playing with fire. You lingered at the far-side of the lake for a while, preoccupied by an internal battle of wills. Finally, with a bracing sigh, you rode across.
With a nervous bound, you banged open the cabin door. With the agility of a much younger man, Flaco leapt to his feet and aimed his revolver straight at your head. Your breath hitched, and you took an instinctive step backwards, carefully raising your hands in surrender. It reminded you vividly of the first time you met. After an intense moment, Flaco lowered his gun.
“Oh, it’s you.” He sighed wearily. “Thought you were a Pinkerton.”
“I’m sorry.” You let out an unsteady breath of relief, but your heart continued to pound.
“No worries. You looking for more work?”
“Er… not exactly.”
“Then why the hell are you here, huh?”
Flaco sank back into his chair by the fire with a pained grunt as you bit your lip. Not exactly how you’d planned this to go. Feeling self-conscious, you rubbed your cold hands together and stepped closer to the fire to warm them. Flaco watched you closely, but you avoided his eye. How do you say what you wanted to?
Even though you had been rehearsing it over and over in your head on the ride up, it was all forgotten now that you were here.
You tried to go back to the beginning. To the first time he was more than a contact. It was as you headed out the door on a routine job, hunching up as you prepared for the biting cold, when he’d softly told you to “stay warm”. It was the most tender thing you’d heard in a long time. Those two small words kept you noticeably warmer that day than you would have been without them.
Flaco had a habit of slipping warmth and tenderness into his words that so many others had forgotten were important. Small, gentle reminders that you were his friend, that he cared about you. In a world that seemed so caught up in money, power and violence, he never failed to remind you that there was still someone who cared. There was still another reason to continue on. He did that without demanding reciprocation.
That’s what came to you one night after a hard day. Fighting back tears as you fumbled with a fresh packet of premium cigarettes. A card slipped out and fell into the mud. Looking down at it, you saw a familiar face in an unfamiliar form. Flaco Hernández it said, young and free as you had never seen him. You snatched up the card, hastily rubbed off the dirt and stared at it in disbelief. It was as though he had sent you a message to remind you that someone still cared. Clutching it to your chest, you finally let yourself cry.
You reached up and pressed your hand to your chest, right where the card was concealed. It was one of your most prized possessions, even though it’s now worn and bent. It was a private ritual to keep it as close to your heart as possible. A peculiar habit. You supposed everyone had their little good luck charm. You glanced over at him. Flaco’s keen eyes followed your every move with analytical intent. You wondered if he had guessed what was on your mind.
“What do you need?” he asked, his gravelly voice unusually gentle.
You frowned at him, still trying to find the right words. What were you even trying to say?
“I just… I wanted you to know that I haven’t forgotten about you.”
Flaco was taken aback. He stared at you in surprise for a long moment. Then he broke into his fierce, stuttering bark of a laugh. You tensed your shoulders and grimaced at the sound, feeling a rush of embarrassment. Of course he would laugh at you.
“You still thinking about that?” He chuckled. “Old Flaco’s little grumble?”
“Shouldn’t I?” You postured defensively.
“I don’t know…” His humour died, leaving a mournful expression in its wake. “Got used to nobody listening.”
“Well I listen.”
“You do? Why?”
You blinked at him. That wasn’t a response you had anticipated. It made you think. Why? Why did you care so much? Why did his words always have such a profound effect on you?
Perhaps you had misinterpreted your own feelings. What you felt for Flaco wasn’t friendship, at least not the ordinary kind. You became aware of your pounding heartbeat, the unusual sweating of your cold palms, the flutters of anxiety in your gut. That wasn’t how you felt for a friend.
“I don’t know.” You mumbled, looking down at the layer of snow still dusting your boots.
Flaco set his gun down on the table beside him before standing up again. He filled the room with his presence, the flickering fire sending his shadow dancing on the walls of the cabin. He took a few steps towards you, causing you to look up into his shadowed face, meeting his eyes for the first time since you had arrived here.
“You don’t?”
Swallowing, you shook your head. He was intimidating looming over you like that. The bravery you had summoned before crossing the lake seemed to have left you. But he didn’t move any closer. He just looked at you carefully, waiting. It didn’t take long for your nervous energy to get the better of you.
“You always make me feel like I matter.” You murmured. “I’m not just another gun for hire. That’s why I always ride up here. Not for work but… for you.”
“You come here just for me?”
“Yes.”
Now that you had said it, some bravery returned. You looked up at him expectantly, almost daring to be hopeful. Your words had softened his worn face, or perhaps it was a simple trick of the light. He reached out and took your gloved hands in his.
Heat spread up your arms from his touch into your face, making it burn. It was the first time you had ever touched. His large hands were gentle as they encapsulated yours.
“You make Flaco very happy.” He smiled and slowly bent forward.
Your heart skipped several beats as he moved down and pressed a short kiss to your cheek. It lit a fire in your soul you hadn’t realised needed to be lit.
He stepped away and slowly let go of your hands, making his way back to his seat. You still hadn’t taken a breath by the time he sat down. He grinned at you knowingly, picking up a half-whittled block of wood and a knife.
“Come see me again soon. I’ll have something for you.”
His dismissal surprised you, but you were glad of the out. You had no idea how to proceed now that he had rendered you speechless. So you grinned, ducked your head to hide your blush and nodded. When you got outside, you looked up at the beautiful expanse of stars now shining brightly above you. Though those bright suns were an unimaginable distance away from you, you could suddenly feel their warmth.
The next time you visited Flaco, he had whittled you a small wooden plaque with the words “Stay Warm” etched into it. You thanked him with a kiss.
Could you get any Colter? - Javier Escuella x GN!Reader
You discover Javier on the verge of freezing to death while on guard duty in Colter and seek it put it right.
TAGS: Spoiler Free, Gender-Neutral Reader, SFT, Fluff, Established relationship, huddling for warmth, kissing, lap sitting, mindless self-indulgence, coffee
1,637 Words
-♥-
With a breathy sigh, you rose from your seat. The pink-tinted faces of your companions all peered up at you from inside their bundled layers. Though it had been burning for days now, the little stove barely warmed the small hut you were all gathered in. Everyone still shivered and shuddered, rubbing their frozen hands together in hopes of bringing some sensation back into them.
You were tired of sitting. It only let the cold settle deeper and deeper into your bones. Bringing your gloved hands to your lips, you huffed a hot breath into them and hurriedly shoved them deep into your pockets. The brief warmth you had instilled in them vanished almost instantly. Hunching your shoulders and tipping your head forward, you pushed the cabin door open and stepped into the snow.
The glare made you squint. Somewhere the sun must be shining, but the warmth was as absent as the dead. Everything was still, save for the harsh breeze that bit your skin and tore through clothing as though it were gauze. Your whole body quaked as a gust swelled and you hurried on your way. The virgin snow crunched and squeaked under your feet as you went, occasionally making you stumble when you hit a dense patch. A pair of eyes watched your unsteady progress across the camp, unbeknownst to you.
“You should get inside, mi amor.” Javier spoke up once you got close. “And keep warm.”
You looked up at him in surprise. You had been so focused on making it to your destination without falling that you had looked nowhere but at your feet. He was stood by a campfire, gripping a rifle in his hands, his moustache in imminent danger of freezing off.
“What are you doing out here?” You asked, your breath a visible cloud.
“Guard duty.”
Javier’s whole body shuddered as another breeze tore through the both of you. His teeth chattered, and he performed a sort of jig in an effort to shake off the cold. You frowned at the sight, noting the snow caking his hat and poncho.
“I think you need to get inside.” You told him. “You will freeze to death if you stay out here any longer.”
“I’m fine.” He shrugged unconvincingly.
Retracting your hand from your pocket, you reached out to brush the snow off his shoulder.
“How long have you been out here?”
“I don’t know… few hours?”
“Excuse me.”
You pushed past him and went into the house he was guarding. Most of the men were in there, huddled around the fireplace with Dutch who was giving some long-winded speech. Looking around at all the able-bodied men, perfectly warm and comfortable made you angrier than you already were.
“Would one of you show some common decency and take over for Javier?” You addressed the room at large, glaring at them all. “He’s about to freeze to death out there!”
The room fell deathly silent as every man looked around at you. None of them were happy to oblige your request, quickly shifting uncomfortably and averting their eyes. You fixed Dutch with an imploring look and he took charge.
“Bill.” He smiled at the larger man. “If you would be so kind as to do as (Y/N) asks.”
Bill cut you a glare that plainly demanded to know why you couldn’t replace Javier yourself, but he would not argue with an order from Dutch. He dragged himself to his feet with a grunt.
“Sure…” He grumbled as he pushed past you.
You thanked Dutch and followed Bill outside.
You watched as he growled at Javier, practically snatching the rifle out of his hands. As frozen as he was, Javier was in no fit state to call him out or argue. He let Bill take over without a word and turned to head into the cabin, but you caught his arm instead. Wordlessly, you steered him off towards the hut Pearson had adopted as a kitchen. It was one of the warmer spots because of the blazing fire.
The camp cook was missing from his post, giving the pair of you some privacy. You made Javier stand as close to the firepit as possible without lighting himself on fire. Then you busied yourself with filling the percolator with water and placing it by the flames to boil. You took your place beside him, watching as he held his hands close to the flames and bounced lightly from foot to foot. At least the snow on his poncho was melting.
“I can’t believe how cold it is up here.” You sighed.
“It’s terrible.” He agreed through clenched teeth. “All this snow… it makes everything wet.”
“That’s what’s keeping us all cold. We can’t get warm enough to dry.”
“Ay, you’re telling me.”
He shuddered harshly again, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, wanting to warm him up. Javier froze at the unexpected contact. While he loved physical affection, he disliked public displays of it, especially when he wasn’t the one to initiate. Sensing his discomfort, you released him again and blushed.
“Sorry, Javier.” You mumbled. “I just wanted to warm you up.”
“No, it’s okay.” He huffed and shifted closer to you. “You can.”
Javier fixed his gaze on the fire and did his ‘get warm’ dance again. You smiled at his awkwardness and cautiously reached out to him. You slid your arm around his shoulders and he moved closer to you, circling his arm under yours and around your back, still facing the fire. It wasn’t exactly what you had hoped for, but he sighed at warmth the contact brought.
You stood together like that for a long while, letting the warmth of the fire and shared body heat thaw your frozen limbs. Javier’s shivering slowly faded as he warmed up from his hours spent in the freezing wind. You detached yourself from him and removed a tin of coffee from the depths of your coat’s inner pockets. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at your previously concealed resource, but you only smiled and filled the pot with a helping of the grounds.
“My secret.” You grinned as you stowed the tin away again. “It won’t last five minutes if anyone else finds out.”
Replacing the lid on the pot, you retrieved two cups from Pearson’s stash and approached Javier again.
“You won’t tell on me?” You asked him with a laugh.
“I’ll let it slide.” He smiled. “This time.”
“Smart of you.”
You poured out two steaming cups of fresh coffee, knowing full well it wouldn’t stay hot for long. Passing one of them to Javier, he gasped and cupped the beverage as though it were his last beacon of hope; the heat radiating through his gloves to thaw his frigid fingers. You cupped your own similarly, welcoming its embrace. Together you waited for it to cool enough to drink, blowing onto the surface and burning your tongues more than once by taking test sips.
“Let’s sit together.” Javier suggested, pointing at a solitary chair in the corner.
You looked over at it with some confusion and shrugged.
“You sit, Javi. I’m fine here.”
He set down his cup and approached the chair, dragging it closer to the fire and taking a seat. He patted his knee invitingly as he reclaimed his coffee, shooting you a suggestive smirk. You grinned at the invitation. How could you argue with that?
You sank onto his thighs sideways, holding your drink steady so you didn’t spill it on the poor man. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his other hand still occupied by his own drink. You snuggled into him happily, enjoying the closeness you hadn’t been able to share since fleeing Blackwater. With everyone cooped up in close proximity, chances to get private time with Javier were rare. His familiar scent filled your senses; leather, metal, coffee and that which was unique to him. It comforted you better than any blanket could.
Together you sat, silently enjoying your coffee and each other’s embrace. When the cups were drained, he circled both his arms around you and buried his face into your neck, his nose cold against what little skin you had bared.
“Te amo.” He whispered, planting a cold kiss on your skin, tilting his head up again to look at your face.
“I love you too.” You smiled and pressed your lips against his.
He cupped the back of your head gently as you kissed him tenderly, ignoring how cold both of your lips were. He worked his lips against yours, parting his slightly and inviting you to taste him. You copied him and his tongue darted out to meet yours, tasting sharply of coffee. He caressed your tongue with his, slowly dancing them together with all the intimacy of an impassioned lover. The chair creaked as you pressed yourself closer against him, your gloved fingers sliding under his poncho, longing to feel the hammering of his heart against your palm.
The crunching of footsteps behind you forced you breathlessly apart. Looking around, you saw Pearson had returned from wherever he had wandered off to. He cleared his throat at the sight of what he had just interrupted, avoiding both of your eyes. You smiled and made to slide off Javier’s lap, but he tightened his grip on you and pulled you back.
“Hey, Pearson.” Javier quipped. “There’s coffee in the pot if you don’t mind if (y/n) and I stay here.”
“Coffee?” Pearson looked at the percolator in surprise. “Well, I can’t say no to a bribe like that.”
“That’s what I thought.” Javier snickered.
You smiled and tightened your grip on him, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Just don’t get too comfortable.” Pearson said as he poured himself a cup. “I don’t want to see that.”
Can you write about Kieran or Charles (either is fine) asking the reader to dance for the very first time? I think Kieran would need a long time mentally prepping to even come up with the courage and it's just so cute in my head 😭😭
Dance with me? - Charles Smith x Fem-Reader
A/N: This request is extremely cute. I’m an absolute sucker for dancing, to the point it’s actually ridiculous. So… I’m writing for both Charles and Kieran! This is part one of two, starring Charles this time around! Thank you so much for this! I hope I did it justice.
TAGS: Spoiler Free, SFT, Female Reader, Fluff, Dancing, Cowboy in love
818 Words
-♥-
The scratchy, lilting call of Dutch’s phonograph filled the evening air. His tent concealed you from view as you sat beside it, humming under your breath with your eyes closed. The warm rays of the soon to be setting sun kissed your skin as you lost yourself to the music. It was a moment meant only for you. The trouble was, you had an onlooker.
Charles had broken away from the camp to smoke. The crowd around the fire was rowdier than he could handle, so he had excused himself and made his way to a small hill to overlook the lake. It would be sunset soon. He loved to watch the way the skyline shifted from gold to orange to red and slowly faded into a pinkish hue before the shadows began to envelope the world. It always reminded him how beautiful life could be.
He was halfway through his cigarette before he spotted you. You swayed slightly to the music, and he caught the movement out of the corner of his well-trained eyes. He almost dropped his smoke at the sight of you. Your relaxed expression, bathed in soft evening sunlight made you more beautiful than he had ever seen you - and that was saying something.
As a reserved man, Charles kept his admiration for you as quiet as possible. Always subtle and indirect. But he couldn’t help but stare at you now, forgotten cigarette burning idly in his grip. He imagined leading you along to the music, your hand in his as he held your waist and looked into your eyes. His heart raced at the thought, his mouth suddenly dry.
The idea was so tantalising. If he asked you to dance, he could express his interest in you and get to hold you with a single question. Providing you said yes. He pined for closeness and romance with you. Glancing around to make sure you were both alone, he swallowed thickly and dropped his cigarette into the grass - snuffing it out with the heel of his boot.
You opened your eyes as you heard him approach. While his face was unreadable, you could sense his nervousness from the tightness of his shoulders. You blinked up at him and opened your mouth to ask him if he was alright.
“Are-“
“Would you like to dance with me?” He blurted out rather suddenly.
“D-Dance?” Your face flushed with colour, wondering if you had heard him correctly.
“With me.”
You stared at him, heart leaping in your chest with excitement. Nothing could make you happier. You had a soft spot for Charles that you had been nursing for a while now. If he was asking you to dance, surely that meant he must like you?
“I would love to.” You smiled shyly and stood up, taking the hand he was holding out for you.
His hand was warm and rough from work and bowstrings, but he held yours with a purposeful tenderness. You let him guide you to a clear patch of grass, still well hidden from prying eyes. Shyly, you placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his at your waist.
The pace was slow and slightly awkward at first. Both of you were shy, feet shuffling and afraid of bumping into the other. But as you got used to the dance, you started to grow more comfortable and confident. Charles tightened his grip on your waist as you stepped slightly closer to him, his broad chest brushing against yours. You captured his gaze and smiled softly, his shoulders visibly relaxed as he broke into a smile of his own.
All awkwardness washed away as he spun you around and drew you back into his arms. Your grin broadened as you fell into the more lively sway of the dance, loving the feeling of being so close to him. Neither of you could stop smiling. Charles couldn’t recall the last time he had been this excited. He loved every moment of it. Your smiles, your hand in his, the comfortable atmosphere, the music… it was all too much.
He let go of your hand, only to seize your waist and lift you up off your feet. You gasped as he spun around with you once before setting you back down. You stumbled slightly, catching his arms with your hands and staring at him, mouth open.
“Ch-Charles!” You gasped.
“I’m sorry.” He looked horrified at what he’d done. “I was-“
“You are so strong…” Heat burned in your face as you looked up at him, heart hammering.
He stared down at you with concern, unsure whether he had offended or dazzled you. Slowly, a shy smile crept onto your lips and he felt relief wash over him.
“I got carried away.” He mumbled apologetically.
“Well, if that’s how you are when you get carried away…” You took his hand in yours. “Please do it again.”
Javier admired himself in the dressing room mirror. Turning this way and that, he examined the effect the thick leather suspenders gave him from every angle. He couldn’t decide if he liked them or not. They were sturdy and would keep his jeans up, but he felt somehow naked without the familiar embrace of his waistcoat. He’s tired of having to hitch up his jeans, however these bands were too broad to fit nicely under his preferred clothes. Plus, they kept bunching up his shirt.
He smoothed a hand down his stomach, flattening his crumpled shirt with a frown. The dressing room door opened and you stepped inside. He watched in the mirror as your eyebrows raised as you assessed his appearance.
“Suspenders?” you enquired curiously. “I didn’t think they were your thing.”
“They aren’t, but my jeans keep falling down.”
“Hmm…” you took another long look at him. “You look handsome.”
“You say that no matter what I’m wearing…” He huffed quietly, straightening his red neckerchief.
You stepped up behind him, kissing his cheek as you ran your hand down his chest.
“I thought you loved compliments.”
“I do, but I want your real opinion.”
“It is my real opinion. You look good in anything.” You saw his frown deepen in the mirror.. “Buut… I think a belt would be better. Suspenders would look strange under your waistcoats.”
Javier smiled appreciatively and turned his head to give you a warm peck on the lips.
Then he pulled back, squinting up at the elaborate wide-brimmed hat on your head adorned with many accessories.
“You can’t afford that.” He stated automatically.
“I know.” You broke into a wide and mischievous grin. “But no one said I couldn’t try it on.”
He laughed as you stepped out from behind him to pose and admire yourself in the mirror extravagantly. He loved visiting the tailors with you. No, actually, he just loved you.
CW: The Reader smokes in this. I don’t encourage anybody to smoke, hell I don’t even smoke, but it’s in here.
A/N: I kinda forgot how to write
1,405 Words
-♥-
You laid on your bedroll, eyes wide open and gazing at the distant campfire. Javier sat alone by the neglected flames, strumming a quiet and gentle melody on his guitar. He was lost in his own music, unaware that he was not quite alone in his private time. The other inhabitants of the camp were already asleep. Aside from the unfortunate souls on guard duty, you and Javier were the only ones awake.
You couldn’t sleep, even though you had been trying for hours now. There was something preventing you from accepting the embrace of slumber, almost as though you were afraid to dream. If it were not for the unknowing company of Javier, you would have cried from frustration. His contented smiles and handsome, fire-lit features were a welcome distraction from your disquieted thoughts.
Deciding that you were further from sleep than ever, you got up from your bedroll. Careful not to wake anybody up, you crept quietly over to the campfire and perched yourself on the log opposite Javier. He looked at you in mild surprise, but continued his song as though nothing had changed. You watched his strong, deft fingers work effortlessly on the strings as naturally as if he had been born to play. It left you wondering just how long ago he started to learn.
Had his talented fingers once struggled and stumbled awkwardly on the strings? Had his beautiful voice that so often accompanied his playing once been scratchy and uncertain? Had he ever given up his craft out of sheer frustration or doubt in his skills? Or was brave, confident Javier too self-assured to worry over what others thought?
You longed to ask him about it. There was a lot you didn’t know about Javier, which was unfortunate because you wished to know everything about him. He was special. He haunted your thoughts more than you would care to admit, and you went to great lengths not to let it show. While you might not know when he first started to play, you knew that love had mistreated him in the past. You didn’t believe you could provide him with the love he so desperately needed, or that he could even want it from you.
His melody reached its inevitable end, and he set his guitar aside, flexing his fingers. He turned his head towards you, tilting it backwards slightly so he could see you from under the brim of his bowler hat. A warm smile flashed across his features and you couldn’t help but return it.
“You okay, hermosa?” He asked. “Thought you were sleeping?”
“I’m fine.” You shrugged. “I just can’t seem to fall asleep.”
“Hey that’s okay. Hard to get comfortable in the heat.”
“I guess so.”
Silence fell between you, leaving the crackling fire and hum of insects to fill your ears. You picked at a small cut on your finger just to avoid staring at Javier. You felt awkward for intruding on his private time and regretted getting out of your bed. There was nothing you had to say, making your presence little more than imposing. You wanted to apologise and excuse yourself again, but being around him was a comfort you didn’t know you needed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.
Javier alternated between watching you and casting his eyes about the camp for something to discuss. It had been some time since you had been alone together and he found himself void of anything meaningful to say. It was obvious there was something on your mind too, but he was never any good at comforting people. Hell, he could barely comfort himself.
After several silent minutes, Javier reached into his pocket and produced a battered carton of cigarettes. He got to his feet and opened it, discovering he only had one left. After sliding it out, he tossed the empty package onto his bedroll and moved around the campfire. Javier took a seat beside you on the log and struck a match on it, bringing it up to ignite the tip of the smoke between his lips. He took a deep, grateful drag and offered it to you wordlessly.
It took you a moment to register his proposal, then realising what he was doing, you took it and brought it to your lips. As soon as you tasted the tobacco, you felt your tension start to leave you. You blew a heavy sigh, enjoying the satisfaction of seeing the curling smoke cloud erupting from your lips. Smiling, you passed the cigarette back to Javier.
A silence that had once been awkward now grew comfortable and familiar as you passed the cigarette between yourselves. Javier’s knee brushed against yours, but neither of you pulled away. The small amount of contact warmed you in a way that the humid Lemoyne air could not. It made your hopeful heart beat faster, making you wonder if he knew how he was making you feel.
“It’s… hard to sleep sometimes.” Javier began awkwardly. “We see some shit and we can’t forget it. It comes back when it’s quiet, I guess.”
He looked down at his hands, currently cigarette free, and frowned.
“I think about it all the time. How much blood I’ve spilled. Makes me wonder if- if it was all worth it.” He continued, sighing. “But then… I think about everyone else here. They’re my family now. We’re working to make it better, to live how we want. It… makes it easier, I guess.”
You offered him the cigarette again, and he took it, taking an unsteady drag and letting it out on a shaky breath. His fingers trembled slightly as he passed it back to you.
“I’m not so good with words.” He chuckled softly. “I just uh… I wanted you to know that you can always talk to me.”
“Javier…” You had never heard him talk like that before, to anyone. “I… don’t know what to say…”
“Yeah.” He sighed and shrugged. “Me either, chica.”
The quiet crept up on you both again as Javier looked into the fire and you looked at him. Somehow the man you had unknowingly sought out for comfort now needed you, and you were as lost as he was. Unable to find the words, you placed your hand on his shoulder. He turned his head towards you again and your eyes met, caught in each other’s gaze. His beautiful, dark eyes that were so often covered by the brim of his hat captivated you completely.
Javier moved his face towards yours slightly, stopping before he made his move. You parted your lips instinctively, anticipating the kiss he so clearly wanted to give you. His eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head and so did yours. He captured your lips with his warm, thin ones and you lost the ability to breathe. It was everything you had never dared hope for. Slow and timid at first, but when you returned his soft kiss, Javier relaxed.
He reached up to cup your cheek with his hand, warm fingertips grazing your cheekbone as he focused his kiss to your top lip. You nervously placed your cigarette wielding hand on his other shoulder as he parted your lips and your tongues met for the first time. Your heart was leaping in your chest and pounding in your ears, making you lightheaded. His moustache and warm breath tickled your face, filling your senses with Javier.
When you broke apart, you both gazed at each other with half-lidded eyes. You felt slightly embarrassed at how breathless he had made you. Even with flushed cheeks, Javier managed to look so cool and collected. His lips quirked in a tender smile and he brushed your hair out of your face.
“Hermosa…“ He whispered softly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”
“You have?” You asked, unable to restrain your disbelief.
“Of course…” He trailed his fingers from your hairline to your lips, tracing them with his fingertips. He watched their progression before darting back to your eyes. “Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”
You blushed from head to toe and he chuckled at your expression. Javier leaned in to give you another short, sweet kiss. He took your hand now holding the burnt out remains of the cigarette. When his fingers brushed against it, he looked at it in surprise and grinned.
TAGS: Spoiler Free, Female Reader, NSFT, Established Relationship, Public S*x, Choking, Dirty talk, Tongue sucking, creamp*e
Javier and his lady love settle down for the night, but goodnight kisses take a delightful turn. Risk of onlookers seems mightily insignificant as a result.
1,574 Words
-♥-
Comfortably snuggled up to Javier under the blanket was paradise. His warm hand traced shapes against your sides absently as you laid in his arms. In the dim light, you could see his eyes were open, eyelashes fluttering as he blinked lazily. You had been talking quietly before sleep but now the conversation trailed away, the sounds of stragglers and guards shifting about filling the silence.
Letting out a small sigh, you nuzzled his arm affectionately, and he looked at you. With a small smile he shuffled closer to kiss your lips. Effortlessly they moved together, slowly shifting from intimate, drawn out smooches to a tender sharing of tongues. He caught your tongue between his lips, sucking it innocently before releasing it again. After a few moments, you repeated the motion on him. Soon, you were swirling your tongues together fervently, heat pooling between your thighs.
He drew away breathlessly, moisture glistening against his lips. He licked them with a flirty smile.
“We’re getting carried away, querida.” His voice was a low whisper, tainted with desire.
“You mean you are.” You teased back quietly.
“Me?” He quirked his brow; slowly tracing his hand down your body until he cupped your clothed sex, rubbing his fingers against the obvious wetness. “Is this what you call behaving?”
You chuckled in response and rubbed your thigh pointedly against his prominent hardness.
“I don’t know, Javier,” You whispered against his lips. “Is it?”
“Fair play.” He smirked, capturing you in another heated kiss.
As he engaged your mouth, his fingers continued to rub along your heat slowly and with expert familiarity. You moaned quietly into the kiss as he swirled the pad of his finger against your sensitive nub.
He withdrew his lips and dipped his head to whisper flush against your ear.
“Keep quiet, or we’ll be caught.” He let out a hot, slow breath before continuing, his lips brushing your earlobe. “But maybe you like that, amorcito.”
Unable to respond, you swallowed and felt him smirk. He removed his hand, tracing it upwards to the waistband of your bloomers. You bit your lip to remain silent as he slipped under it, warm fingertips kissing your bare skin as he dipped lower.
The wetness waiting for him drew a harsh hitch of his breath and a muted Spanish curse.
“All this for me?” He asked. “I barely touched you.”
“You don’t have to.” You reminded him.
“That’s right.” He praised. “I’m the only one who makes you this excited…”
He shifted to kiss your cheek while he slicked his fingers with your juices. Adequately coated, he traced slow circles around your clit, peppering kisses across your jaw as he did. All the while you bit back the sighs of pleasure fighting for release.
After some time of his teasing, you were growing impatient. While he was making you feel amazing already, you ached to be filled by him. You shifted your hips pointedly and whispered his name meaningfully. He smirked against your skin and trailed kisses back up to your ear again.
“What do you want?” He enquired calmly, continuing to tease you with his fingers.
“T-To be…”
“...Yes?”
“I want you inside of me.” You swallowed and blushed.
“Oh, Querida…” He breathed and pressed his finger against your tight entrance. “We can’t… there are people.”
“Is that a problem?” You queried after a few seconds.
“Not for me.” He admitted, pushing his finger into you unexpectedly.
You arched your back at the sensation, barely holding back a pleasured gasp. Javier crushed his lips over yours to silence you, curling his finger deep inside you.
“That doesn’t give you permission to be noisy.” He warned, returning his lips to your ear. “Keep it quiet, Mi Amor, and I’ll give you something thicker.”
His words alone almost made you cry out, yet you repressed it. He watched your aroused expression with delighted eyes, beginning a steady rhythm with his finger, sliding it in and out of you smoothly, curling it just the way you liked it.
He delighted in your quickened, heavy breaths as he pushed a second finger inside, stretching your walls effortlessly. Having nothing to say, he worked his lips against your neck, leaving not-so-subtle marks in his wake. Even if nobody noticed you tonight, they would certainly know about it tomorrow.
Javier pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing the slick pad across it to match the motions of his fingers. You could feel the tension growing in your gut, warning you of your impending climax. You reached down to grip his arm under the blanket, wordlessly alerting him. Not that he needed it. He groaned quietly, grinding himself against your thigh desperately, aroused by the feeling of you around his fingers.
“Mierda..!” He hissed hungrily, pumping his hand roughly into you. “You gonna come on my fingers?”
You nodded earnestly, teeth sinking into your lip as your fingernails dug into the skin of his arm.
Your climax hit you hard and fast, leaving you to pant desperately, bucking your hips into his palm as he aided you in riding out your orgasm. Mercifully, he kissed you again, drowning out your unfortunate moans from outsiders notice.
Finally, you started to come down, growing relaxed and limp in his arms. He slipped his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips, tasting your juices lavishly.
“Well done.” He praised, taking your shoulder and urging you to shift onto your side. “I’ve got a nice reward for you.”
“Oh, Javier…” You groaned, turning your back to him and arching your hips to press your ass against his crotch.
“Try to keep it down.” He teased, shifting himself free of his pants.
After freeing his length, he gave it a few lavish strokes, coating his length with his pre. While he did, you aided him by sliding your bloomers down your thighs. He came up behind you, wrapping his arm tightly around your body, leaving his hand resting at your throat. He gripped his cock with the other and positioned himself at your entrance.
“Remember, querida, be quiet.” He whispered warningly before pushing his hips forward.
His tip parted your lips, pushing smoothly into you. The angle gave incredible pressure, causing you to gasp as he bottomed out inside of you. At the sound, his fingers closed tighter around your throat as a warning.
He paused, pressing kisses to the back of your neck as you adjusted to his intrusion. Then, he withdrew his hips slowly before pushing back into you again.
Javier set a smooth, easy pace with his hips. To an outsider’s perspective, he was simply spooning you under the blankets. If it were not for the subtle shift at the waist, they would be none the wiser. While not the fastest pace, he satisfied you with angles and attention to detail, giving you ample time to admire the texture of his cock. His hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your sensitive clit as his length filled you.
“You make me feel so good…” He groaned against your ear, breath heavy and hot. “So tight and wet…”
You swallowed heavily against his grip on your throat, reminding him it was there. His hips began to rock faster, losing himself to desire.
“You’re so filthy.” He swallowed. “Letting me fuck you where anyone could see…”
“Javi-”
“I said, be quiet.” His hand tightened around your throat, making it slightly harder to breathe. “Let me talk.”
His previously careful thrusts were growing faster and harder, his breath heavier and words dirtier.
“All I did was kiss you.” He growled, forcing your head back so he could see your face as he spoke. “Now you’re letting me fuck you. Arthur is just over there.”
His hips were slapping against yours now, the wet sounds of his thrusts barely muffled by the blankets.
“Mierda… fuck!” He squeezed your throat tightly as he fucked into you wildly. “I’m gonna come..!”
His English fell away as he continued grunting and hissing out in a tangle of dirty Spanish, in danger of alerting the whole camp. Familiar tension built up rapidly in your core, bucking your hips back into his in desperation for release. It crashed over you like a wave, your pussy milking him desperately as you came. His thrusts grew rougher and harder than ever as he released himself inside of you, pushing as deep as he could go, filling you up thoroughly. He grunted passionately against your ear, riding out your orgasms together.
After a long, hot minute, he let out a breath and relaxed. His hand released your throat, leaving you sucking in breath hungrily. He kissed your neck lovingly, tangling his fingers into your hair and whispering praises you couldn’t understand.
“English…” You reminded him breathlessly, exhaustion crashing over you.
“I love you.” He repeated, pulling you into his arms as though afraid you would leave. “Mi corazón…”
“I love you too, Javier.”
You turned your face to his, letting him kiss you deeply. His face was sweaty and his shirt clinging to him from the heat. You didn’t mind a bit, similarly sweaty. He tucked himself away and pulled up your bloomers while he kissed you. When he withdrew, you turned your face back against the pillow and snuggled into his arms.
“Goodnight, Javier.” You whispered lovingly, kissing his hand by your collar.
He mumbled in response, already falling away into a deep slumber.
"I've never loved anyone the way I love you." You whispered into the dark, just loud enough for Javier to hear. He shifted in his bedroll, turning to face you and moved close enough to catch your lips with his. Your heart thrummed with nerves and delight alike.
"Tú eres mi amor de mi vida." He whispered back, breath hot against your lips. "I'm sure of it."
"Oh, Javier…" You tangled him in your arms, pulling him tightly against you as though he were the only thing anchoring you to life.
"I love you." He sighed as he snuggled into you. "So much it hurts."
You felt that pain in your own heart. The anxieties of daily life, never knowing when the last moment may be. Worrying every time he left on a job, anger any time someone mistreated him, fear that he may be caught by the law. Loving each other wasn't easy.
"I'll never leave you." You promised. "Never."
"We'll be together always." He agreed, interlocking his fingers with yours and kissing your cheek.
Realising it was wet, he withdrew and took in a small hitched breath. Then he rubbed his cheek against yours, wiping away your tears with the warmth of his skin and kissing along your face until he captured your lips again.
The kiss was searing and passionate, his body hot and strong against yours as he pinned you to the bedroll with his weight. You never wanted the contact to break. You could be alone in the dark with him forever and want for nothing.
-♥-
Translations: Tú eres mi amor de mi vida - You are the love of my life
Would you be willing to write some fluff about Charles and the reader in Beecher’s Hope and he brings up going to Canada? Maybe he accidentally turns it into a confession/proposal? Either way thank you! Your writing rocks!
Canadian Dreams - Charles Smith x Gender-Neutral Reader
A/N: I kinda got carried away with this request. Who hasn’t dreamed about riding off to Canada with Charles? I sure have. A million times.
Anyway, this turned out way angstier than I really intended. What can I say,I’m a sad bitch™. I hope you still enjoy it, anon. I worked really hard.
TAGS: End Game Spoilers, Gender-Neutral Reader (fem leaning), SFT, Angst & Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Misunderstandings, Heartbreak, other such nonesense
3,660 Words
-♥️-
Staying behind to protect Abigail and Jack while John, Charles, and Sadie went after Micah seemed like a good idea at the time. They needed you more. As did the ranch, left unmanned for days would make it an open target. The Skinner Brothers had no reservations the last time security was lax. Yet as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours turned into days, a dreadful restlessness came over Beecher’s Hope.
Abigail paced about, snapping at everything and everyone, rarely taking her eyes off the gate, looking up at the remotest sound of hooves or talk. The work kept you both busy, but it provided no real distraction. Words exchanged were rare and tense. Even Jack was grateful to be put to work. His books couldn’t keep his mind off his father or distract him from his mother’s unease.
Uncle behaved unusually. He actually helped with the smaller chores, insisting that the men owe him when they get back and that the lack of their nagging was doing him some good. He was the only one who kept up some semblance of cheer, trying to break up the silence and tension with jokes and tales of the old days. At night he never failed to bring out the banjo, even when all were stony faced and exhausted.
You were grateful for his take on it. Any time he met you, he firmly reminded you they could handle themselves and that John was too stupid to die, anyway. You’d force a weak smile and nod each time, quickly returning to your work, wanting to give the impression that his words were a comfort. They weren’t.
The truth was, while you were concerned for John and Sadie, it was Charles you were most afraid for.
The idea that he might not come back terrified you. Worse was the idea he might come back in a state where you wished he hadn’t. A heavy, uneasy weight nestled in your gut as your thoughts twisted and mutated. The last time you had felt this way was in Beaver Hollow. It felt as though what happened there was reaching out to you across the years, embracing and caressing you with the soft whisper that you could lose your family all over again. It followed you like a dark cloud, haunting your dreams with nightmares that he was already dead.
-♥️-
The sound of hooves against the dusty earth interrupted a grim, silent coffee break with Abigail. She leapt up from her seat barely a second before you, her cup clattering to the floor as she sprinted out the door with you hot on her heels.
A pair of horses making their slow, steady way towards the house was the view waiting for you outside. Your eyes flicked to rear horse, the unmistakable silhouette of Charles was hunched over slightly in the saddle. Your heart leapt into your throat as you bounced anxiously on your heels behind Abigail.
At her shout, Uncle and Jack joined you on the porch, all eyes turned anxiously to the newcomers. The days of anxiety and fear came together to flood your veins with adrenaline and hope. You hardly dared breathe as John slipped off his horse and called out;
“It’s over, Abigail. It’s all over.”
The words and their meaning barely seemed to register before the relief overwhelmed you. It left you lingering on tenterhooks, momentarily stunned, teetering backwards and forwards on the balls of your feet. Then they carried you forward, following Abigail down the steps, but instead of towards John, you rushed to Charles.
He struggled out of the saddle, holding his left shoulder at an odd angle.
“Charles!” You cried out as you reached him. “I’m so glad yo- You’re hurt!”
“I got shot.” He grunted. “I should be fine, it’s not serious.”
“Let’s get you inside. I’ll… I can help you.”
You took his uninjured arm and walked him carefully into the house. Your nerves sang with joy that he was alive and back with you again, safe from harm. Meanwhile, your heart throbbed with anguish at his pained breaths as you steered him up the steps. At least you could take care of him now.
Carefully, you lead him into Jack’s room and had him sit on the bed. At your instruction, he removed his coat and shirt while you went off to fetch medical supplies. Abigail was tending to Sadie in the master bedroom, leaving you with what she could spare. You returned and sighed at the sight of his makeshift bandages. They were stained with blood both fresh and old; the ride back hadn’t been kind. He frowned as you reached out to gently unravel them, slowly revealing his wound.
“I already removed the bullet.” He informed you with a sigh. “Better to get it out before it heals.”
“That’s smart of you.” You smiled weakly, picking up your bowl of water and sitting by him on the bed.
You got to work on cleaning his injury. There wasn’t much you could do that he hadn’t already, and you were grateful for it. Charles always knew how to take care of himself. You felt almost foolish for worrying so much about him, yet even now your chest was tight with concern. Though he was a brave patient, the small hitches of his breath as you worked caused you great pain.
The warmth of his skin radiated off him in waves, making you all too aware of your closeness. You tried your best to ignore it, though it was no small feat. Combined with the urge to soothe his pain and reassure yourself that he really was alive, it took all your self control not to kiss him. Channelling all your focus onto cleaning him up helped, at least until you noticed he kept casting furtive glances at your face. You caught his gaze and held his eye contact, dropping your cloth into the now brown water.
Emotion pooled in your chest as you looked into his deep, brown eyes. A vivid memory came to you across the years of a situation just like this.
During the botched Blackwater robbery, Charles burnt his hand. As the gang traversed the mountains, you convinced him to let you help him with it. Together you sat in silence in the back of the wagon, his big hand in yours as you applied soothing balm and fresh bandages. Back then, your heart had raced as it had now, though that baby crush seemed laughable in comparison.
“I always seem to be patching you up.” You chuckled. “Ever since Blackwater.”
He flexed his hand, the corner of his lips twitching as he recalled the memory himself. You wondered briefly what emotion it conjured for him.
“I’m grateful for that.” He admitted.
“It was the first time we ever really talked.”
“That’s why I’m grateful.”
“Me too. You’re a wonderful friend, Charles.”
He flinched almost imperceptibly, whether at your words or the brush of your fingertips on his bare shoulder, you couldn’t tell. Now that he was all clean, you dabbed medicine on his wound and checked it was healing well. With nothing left to do, you began wrapping fresh, clean bandages around him.
When you were done, you helped him pull on a clean shirt and had him get into bed. After firmly instructing him that he was to spend a good few days in bed, you fetched him some fresh water and alcohol.
“Thank you.” He squeezed your hand and smiled.
“Of course.” You returned his squeeze and released him. “I’m… glad you’re back.”
“For a while I thought we’d be lucky to come back.” He confessed. “Micah was well guarded.”
“He always was more trouble than he’s worth.”
“He’s dead now.”
“I’m glad it’s over.” You sighed, letting yourself feel the relief you had been holding back. “I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Losing my family to him again.”
Charles stared up at you from the bed. There was something in his expression that made you look away. Was it pity?
“Get some sleep, Charles.” You headed for the door. “You need it.”
He didn’t respond, and you closed the door without looking at him.
-♥️-
With your tender care and the startling vigour only Charles seems to possess, he was back to his usual hardworking self in no time. He always put the needs of others above his own and couldn’t stand inaction. It was a dangerous combination, especially when healing was involved. The four days he spent in bed seemed an eternity to him, even with the constant company and entertainment. He ached to get back to work and there was nothing you could do to stop him.
By the time John and Abigail had their wedding, he was strong enough to enjoy the festivities wholeheartedly. His joy at their union seemed almost unreal. He was happier for them than even they seemed, which should have been impossible.
Afterwards though, there was a shift in his mood. The reserved man you had once known returned, making you all too aware of how much he had changed.
You mused over his shift as you sat together by the campfire. It was a cool night, the sky above you clear and glittering with millions of stars, a slight breeze the only thing that stirred. Laughter rose from the distant house, reminding you why you were out here.
Charles held his harmonica in his hands, spinning it in his fingers and wetting his lips repeatedly. It seemed he intended on playing, but had yet to find the will to do so, too busy with his thoughts to notice his fidgeting.
“I think we’ll have to leave soon.” You said thoughtfully. “The Marston’s want their space.”
“I know.” He agreed, slipping his harmonica into his pocket. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“You did?”
“Where are you planning to go?”
You stared at him as you thought on it. You hadn’t considered it too closely. The truth was, you had nowhere to go. Your life since the gang had been a lonely one, spent wandering and scraping by. No place had ever been ‘home’.
“I…” You swallowed. “I figure I’d go back to wandering. Maybe find someplace to settle down. Not much of a plan I know but… since Dutch, I never really had a plan.”
There was a pause as he seemed to consider your words. As it drew out, you started to feel uneasy and embarrassed, so you switched tact.
“What about you?” You asked.
“Canada.” He hesitated and after a moment, continued; “I want to settle down. Get married, start a family. Seeing what John’s built here makes me wonder if I could have it too.”
That explained his broodiness.
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been feeling the same way. The life you had watched John build for his family made you long for your own. Stability and love always seemed a distant dream to you, and yet John had built it through determination alone. You had plenty of that. The only thing you were missing was someone who loved you enough. You stole a hopeful glance at Charles with a familiar throb of longing.
Like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore, the realisation of what his words meant flooded your thoughts. Images of Charles in a distant, unknown land flickered in your mind’s eye. A sturdy wooden home built by hand. A beautiful woman with a blurred face, heavy with child. Young children laughing and running between trees. Their parents watching with matching warm smiles. A million miles away from you, hunched over a bar in some unknown saloon, alone and afraid again.
A bullet would have hurt less. Pain bloomed in your heart, spreading quickly through your veins until it left every inch of you numb. His plans didn’t involve you. That was clear from how he talked about it. You were right there, already desperately in love with him, and he planned to ride off to Canada in search of a stranger.
It took all your energy to ground yourself enough to manage a weak smile and words of encouragement.
“If anyone can build that life, it’s you, Charles.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” You reached out to pat his good shoulder encouragingly and got up.
Your throat was tightening and tears burning your eyes. You refused to let him see your reaction. He was a good man. If he knew how he had hurt you, however unintentional, he’d never forgive himself.
“I’m going to bed.” You announced, brushing yourself down and averting your gaze.
“Wait.” Charles urged, surprised by your sudden departure.
“Yes?”
“You’re more than welcome to join me in Canada.”
You couldn’t risk a glance at him. One look at his face and you’d lose yourself.
“I don’t think so, Charles.” You shook your head and turned away. “I don’t want to get in the way.”
You walked away before he could respond, bowing your head the instant you were out of sight. That night you cried yourself to sleep, silently screaming into your pillow.
-♥️-
The next few days were torture. Catching even a glimpse of Charles was enough to break your heart all over again. Hearing his voice, seeing him smile or just being near him was agony unending. You did everything in your power to avoid him; adopting chore after chore, skipping meals, feigning headaches and even resorting to hiding in strange and remote spots on the ranch. It still wasn’t enough. Your heart couldn’t heal while he was still around and yet imagining him leaving caused you so much pain you were certain it would kill you.
Time was ticking away in your head. Every day that passed was one less day you had with him. When he left for Canada, it was a guarantee that you would never see him again. The distance was too great and you could never bring yourself to visit anyway. You felt guilty just thinking about it. Your feelings shouldn’t get in the way of you being a good friend. Charles had always been there for you and he had even invited you to join him.
Longing for him mounted with each passing day. You wanted to immerse yourself in his company as much as possible, to enjoy the last of his light before it faded away forever.
This particular feeling was the worst. You’d find yourself gazing longingly at him, wishing he’d grow eyes and realise you were in love with him. It was a foolish hope. If he hadn’t realised by now, he wasn’t about to start. You knew the only way he could know was if you told him and you weren’t brave enough for that.
It was while you were gazing at him that you saw something to make your heart freeze over. He was sitting on the porch and whittling with his knife when Sadie came out. She squinted across the land, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. You bent down to hide yourself behind the fence, pretending to tie your bootlace. You didn’t want her to catch you watching Charles.
When you stood back up, she had pulled up a chair beside him.
Her head was bent low, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to him. You watched with a small frown as they talked quietly. It was obvious they were discussing something personal and intimate, something they didn’t want overheard. She reached out and gave his knee a firm pat. You swallowed and looked away.
Was it possible that Charles intended to go with Sadie?
They had never seemed all that close. They respected and protected each other, but they rarely spent time together. Perhaps they had grown closer over the past weeks as they recovered. Sadie hated being tied down as much as Charles did. They both loved to be active and useful, never comfortable sitting around. The actionable spunk Sadie had could easily be attractive to a man like Charles.
Even so, you couldn’t help feeling it was a poor match. At least the blurry faced woman in your head was familiar now.
Your bad mood radiated off you when you returned to work. The mare you were grooming stamped her hooves and tossed her head as you brushed, forcing you to pause to keep patting and soothing her. Usually you would give her space to calm down, but you were too preoccupied to care. You needed to do something. Anything to channel your energy.
Images of Charles and Sadie kept barging their way into your thoughts, making you irritated and depressed.
When footsteps heralded the approach of another, you glanced over your shoulder. Charles pushed the gate open to the paddock, his eyes on you as he gave a feeble smile. You weren’t in the mood to face him, so you looked away and gave the mare a pat on her behind, sending her cantering away. Returning to the barn, you dropped off the horse brush and made to leave.
Charles came up behind you and barred your exit, a serious look on his face.
“I need to talk to you.” He said.
“I have to help Abigail wi-”
“Abigail can wait.”
His words came out harsher than he had intended. He frowned and glanced down at his boots with a sigh. You crossed your arms over your chest, half to protect yourself and half to hold yourself together. You forced your expression to remain emotionless as you looked up at him. It was the first time you’d been alone together in days.
“I…” He fumbled with his hands, finding it hard to look you in the eyes.
You watched as he seemed to battle with himself. It was the first time you had ever seen him so clearly nervous. You waited patiently, your desire to keep him at arm’s length melting away.
“I want you to come to Canada… with me.” He finally managed to say. His voice was deep and raw with emotion, once again something you had never seen from him. You swallowed and shifted on your feet.
“I told you, Charles.” You sighed slowly. “I would just get in the way. I don’t want to ruin your chances.”
“I mean I…” He took a small step closer, extending his hands towards you in a subconscious gesture. “I want you to come with me and… and build a life… together.”
“You mean as friends?”
“I was kind of hoping maybe…” He swallowed and then sighed heavily. “As more.”
You stared at him as he finally met your eyes. He looked so vulnerable with his shoulders slightly hunched, an expression of uncertainty on his face. All at once you realised how foolish you had been. All this time he had felt the same, and you had acted so callously towards him. If he wasn’t braver than you, and it seemed he barely had been, then you both would have gone on with your lives, utterly heartbroken and never knowing you were loved. Your heart hammered in your chest as you secretly waited for some kind of punchline.
“Only if you want to.” He concluded. “You can still join me even if-”
“Charles, I-” You took a small step forward. “I don’t think you know just how much I would love that.”
“I think I do.” He breathed with relief.
“You do?”
You gazed into each other’s eyes, both silently astonished that your feelings were shared. The emotions you had been trying to suppress bubbled up to the surface and spilled over, tears starting to track down your face with relief.
At the sight of your tears, Charles closed the distance and swept you up into his arms. You wrapped yours around his broad back, burying your face into his neck. How many years had you longed to be held by him like this?
Far, far too many.
He squeezed you closer, almost as though he was afraid any moment you would vanish. You tangled your fingers in his hair and filled your senses with him.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” He confessed, the rumble of his voice radiating from his chest and into yours. “How I feel about you.”
“Oh, Charles…”
“When we ran with Dutch, I could never find the right words or the right time.”
“I always thought you were too good for me.” You sighed, pulling away from him to look at his face. “I thought you could never be interested in me.”
“I thought that about you too. Even now I… wasn’t going to tell you.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Sadie.” He mumbled dryly.
“So that’s what that was about.” You grinned, imagining her giving him a thorough talking to.
“You saw that?”
“I did. When you told me you were going to Canada I thought… I thought that meant you didn’t want me.”
He sighed and cupped your cheek, pressing his forehead against yours.
“Oh, (Y/N).” He whispered. “I was trying to tell you then…”
“I always assume the worst.” You sighed, thankful it worked out in the end.
“I want to make up for lost time. The years we missed out on.”
“Charles… if we had gotten together way back then, we wouldn’t have to opportunity we have now. We couldn’t build a proper life together as outlaws. It’s better this way.”
“I know.” He smiled and released you. “Maybe it was supposed to happen now.”
You took his hand in yours and gave it a firm squeeze, which was quickly returned.
“Maybe it was. All I know is I can’t wait for the future.”
“I can’t either.”
Together you walked back towards the house, hand in hand. While Canada was still a mystery to you, the future looked bright. With Charles Smith by your side, loving you as you loved him, anything was possible.
