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penny00dreadful · 9 months

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This is so fucking stupid and I'm not sorry. Inspired by this video of the two guitarists from DragonForce taking the piss out of Sabaton(affectionately).

Jeffington: Just ended your whole career on live 😘

Eddie scrunched his eyes closed then wrenched them open again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing on his screen. It was too early in the fucking morning for this shit.

Whatever.

He buried his face back in between Steve’s shoulders and allowed himself to fall asleep once more.

Corroded Coffin had only started making it big in the early 90’s when they split right down the middle. As time went on they started to drift towards different subgenres. Jeff and Grant had wanted to explore a more international sound, while Gareth and Eddie were happy to stay in the power metal scene with just a touch of neoclassical.

They had tried to make it work, but the sounds were just too different and while Eddie and Grant wanted to continue on with lyrics full of fantasy and gothic romance, Jeff and Grant had wanted to focus more on ‘the human condition’.

So they separated. Eddie and Gareth had kept the Corroded Coffin name while Jeff and Grant travelled, exploring their sound.

There was no animosity. They were all still the best of friends. Even as Jeff and Grant had settled in Stockholm, where they had quickly shot to stardom with their new band members, Eddie and Gareth made their home in California enjoying their own success. They met up as often as they could, whenever tour dates aligned or they were booked into the same festivals.

Eddie and Steve were godfathers to Grant’s youngest daughter.

He and Gareth had been groomsmen in Jeff’s wedding.

They were solid.

Which was why the text from Jeff was more exasperating than worrying.

Plus it was like… nine in the morning which, granted, wasn't early, early but Eddie was a damn rockstar.

And he might have lost track of time reading last night and stayed up until four but that's besides the point.

But then Steve was handing him his morning coffee with a kiss, saying Robin had sent him a link to something and fine. He’d go watch whatever stupid shit Jeff pulled.

Eddie settled back into bed because he could and it was a Sunday.

Sue him.

But he couldn’t decide if he should be fake-mad or wildly entertained because the link Robin had sent opened the VOD about an hour into the stream, just in time for Grant to say “Should we do Corroded Coffin?”

Both Jeff and Grant were sitting in Jeff’s studio space in front of Jeff’s computer with a range of instruments behind them, grinning at each other.

“Oh shit, definitely!” Jeff stood and seemed to think about it for a second before picking up one of his guitars, a bright acid green with black tendrils running throughout. “The most dramatic of the bunch,” he leaned into the mic, gesturing at the guitar before taking his seat again, “just like their frontman.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“You think you can shred like Munson?” Grant asked, leaning forward and starting to tap out drum beats on the laptop.

Jeff scoffed. “Yeah right. Let me just play at five-fucking-thousand bpm and sing at the same time. It’s gonna be an approximation at best.”

Surprisingly enough the music they came up with did sound very close to Corroded Coffin’s sound. Grant relied heavily on the kick-drum and high hat to a ridiculous degree for Gareth's part and yeah, fair.

Gareth did love his high hat.

Jeff played the fastest guitar riff he could muster which honestly wasn’t that bad. He couldn’t go quite as hard as Eddie could but guitar was always Eddie’s first love and he was a master at his craft. Jeff gave the camera a cheeky wink as he used the computer to speed the guitar solo up, making it sound far more complex.

“I swear to god,” Eddie muttered to himself, “if they insinuate that I do that, I’ll fucking-”

“Eddie would never.” Jeff said, responding to someone in the chat who’d asked that very question.

Grant looked up with a sly smile. “Oh, god no. He’d never. He’s too proud for that.”

Cheeky bastards.

“You know what this needs?”

“Female backing vocals?”

“Yes!" Jeff snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Like something pulled from Jackson’s Lord of the Rings!”

“Oh come on!” Eddie pouted, but even still he could tell they weren’t actually making fun.

A notification popped up on Eddie’s phone.

Gare-Bear: Have you watched the stream?

Eddie: Watching right now. They’re starting on the lyrics.

Gare-Bear: Did Robin send you the link?

Eddie: Yeah.

Gare-Bear: Okay, keep watching.

Eddie: 👍

By the time the guys had hashed the lyrics out, punctuating them with high falsetto points that freaked Jeff’s cats out, Eddie was giggling into his coffee. The lyrics were so comically bad but they were so Corroded Coffin at the same time.

I wear armour and I am sad. I'm all alone and I am sad. Such a lone wolf am I. Except I'm not because here comes this hot man who's totally not my husband. Bats and demons and darkness and death. Bow down to me. Kneel before me. I am your master. This is about sex. Oh, look, a dragon! I'll suck your blood then I'll fuck you through the wall. Except I won't because you're an allegory for my husband again. I'll fuck him instead. Every song involves him in some way. Because I'm a big fucking sap.

And then it happened. That crafty wench.

A message popped up in the chat.

BuckyBirdie: Needs more dick sucking lyrics.

“Holy shit.” Grant whipped out his phone. “R- Birdie? Is that you? Stay right there, hold on.”

While Jeff continued to play through the guitar, Grant disappeared, raising the phone to his ear before coming back a few minutes later and whispering something to Jeff.

Jeff’s whole face split into the most mischievous of smiles and Eddie only had time to think oh no before Robin’s face appeared, joining the stream with a tired if not slightly manic expression, all topped off by her yummy sushi pyjamas.

The first thing Grant said to her was “What fucking time is it over there, Birdie?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged, looking down at her watch. “Like half six in the morning?”

“Oh. Could be worse then.”

“I haven’t slept yet.” She said with a bright smile.

“Dude! Why not?”

“I got into cryptography again last night and I haven’t stopped. Don’t tell Steve.”

Oh, I am so telling Steve. Eddie thought to himself.

“God. What a fuckin’ nerd.” Jeff punctuated his statement with a loud strum of his guitar.

Robin stuck her tongue out. “Takes one to know one.”

“Ouch. Right in my middle schooler heart.”

“Anyway, a little birdie told me you boys need some backing vocals?”

Eddie didn’t know how he was going to get her back for this, but he was sure he’d be able to figure something out eventually.

Like banging pots and pans in her hallway while she slept off her cryptography binge.

Though it was almost worth the hilarity because noted lesbian Robin Buckley happily sat there, singing about dick and tongues and assholes in a high ethereal voice that was then layered behind Jeff's.

By the end, the chat was going wild asking when it was going to be available to stream because even though it was a parody song, it was annoyingly catchy. Just before they signed off, Jeff and Grant let their audience know they’d ask Eddie and Gareth for permission before they’d do anything.

Eddie minimised the video and opened up his chat with Gareth.

Eddie: You wanna let them release it?

Gare-Bear: Fuck yeah!

Eddie: Awesome.

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emiko-matsui · 10 months

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#dimension 20 #d20 #sylvester cross #daisy d'umpstaire #gangie green #buckster $ boyd #penny luckstone #wetzel coffin run #binx choppley #amangeaux epicée du peche #mice and murder #the seven #coffin run #a court of fey and flowers #the ravening war

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hella1975 · 9 months

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im due on and not in the mood for much of anything but of course there are stepladders that must be painted

#my mum doesnt half pull chores out her arse sometimes like what. no ofc that's a thing that needs doing #like okay tbh i LOVE the way my mum decorates it's something i rave about to all my friends bc im genuinely very proud of her and our house #bc basically my mum has an interior design degree and generally has an Eye for decorating like she's just Good at it #but she never ever ever spends loads of money if ANY when she can help it #put me in any room in our house and i can point at all the furniture and tell you some dumb story about it #'my mum's cousin sold that sofa to her for a fiver' 'she literally pulled that dining set from someone's skip' etc #like everything is always aquired for free or bc of some niche 'i know a guy' connection or she paid pennies for it #and then either me my mum or my sister will sand it down and paint it ourselves and it always looks amazing when it's done #like ive said to my mum before she could probs start a business with it bc she does it to such a professional standard #so it's given me and my sister not only a real respect for DIY and second hand and generally not spending extortionate amounts #but it's also given us handy skills like painting and sanding and glossing etc etc #and ive always loved that about my mum like she doesnt NEED to be doing this anymore like she has the money now to buy things new #but she just doesnt she genuinely prefers doing stuff like this and having furniture that has a story behind it etc and i love that #but my GOD is it annoying when we're doing it like i HATE painting it's sooooo dull #and when im due on and cant be arsed to do ANYTHING let alone chores this is just. nail in coffin #AITA my thrifty aesthetic is making my daughter contemplate offences against the person via stepladder #hella goes home

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mxgoldenwood · 9 months

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I still haven’t uninstalled the Twitter app from my phone even though I haven’t actively used it in almost a year— just got a mini jump scare from the new icon sitting there amongst my shortcuts and honestly that might be the thing that pushes me over the edge to get rid of it for good already ❌

#mxg text post #personal #twitter x #may delete this later #I don’t tweet anymore so this is going to just have to be my shouting into the void social media site #the twitter rebranding is SO ugly #but it does feel like a nice final nail in a coffin lid #I hate to say goodbye but it’s SO much easier to say it to the awful ‘x’ than it would have been with the bird icon #like it felt like there was still hope for recovery up until this point #I was holding on to the hope that I might go back #but not anymore #I’m prepared to do my part in tanking Elon’s net worth #he took twitter from us so the least I can do is take a few pennies worth of ad revenue from his bottom line

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crypt1dcorv1dae · 2 years

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every day i think about the lucky penny

#bbrae #like its literally just a small thing but it meant so much to her??? and she held onto it until the FINAL MOMENT???#every time i see a lucky penny it fills me with warm gross mushy feels......#like they had so many notable moments where they like... suddenly understand eachother better over the series. but this is like THE big one #like i think that the end is basically the final nail in the coffin ykno?? ykno?????#like they genuinely have a very good slowburn build up of like... slowly getting to know eachother over the years #like theres more often moments where gar learns more about raven but actually much fewer moments where raven learns about gar...#mostly theres like... 2. the beast incident and the brotherhood arc are really the only times. but theyre very very IMPORTANT times

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pennypalblorkposts · 1 year

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my autism reactivates whenever theres new undertale content

#penny posts #ok to rb/interact #imagine it rising out of a coffin #ut

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corrodedcoughin · 9 months

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eddie going in to scoops ahoy dressed as a pirate and saying he’s here to ‘plunder scoops’ treasure chest of ice cream yarhar’ only he gets to the counter and it’s Steve serving, not Robin. He was expecting Robin. What comes out of his mouth is ‘I’m here for your pleasure chest’. Cue eddie turning on his heel, walking out of scoops and sitting himself down in the fountain of the food court, hugging his knees while the corroded coffin boys throw pennies at him.

#he did do a dramtic ‘WHY!!’ on his knees then sat back down again #Steve came out during his break but Eddie and cc all pretended Eddie was a statue #was very tragic #unfortunately steve got butterflies about it and can’t stop thinking about the sopping wet pirate statue #this could be a nice one shot but I have no interest in writing it 👍#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington

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queenimmadolla · 5 months

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A little sneak peak of a request! I was trying to finish this one before I got smashed but SOME PEOPLE did not like certain details, so I have to fix it. BUT this is proof that I do indeed be writing, I swear, I just grow very intensely annoyed when something doesn't turn out perfect and the way I want it immediately, so I throw it in The Vault! Just know, everything in The Vault will be released :)

𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐌𝐨𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - angst, hurt/comfort 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ♡

You’d expected it to be dramatic.

Your water breaking that is, but as you stared down at your toes, barely visible past your baby bump, pants darkening around your crotch and the liquid trailing down your leg to gather in a small puddle beneath you, you almost felt nothing, save for ennui.

Your last two pregnancies had been quite the spectacle; your first being dramatic in itself for the sole reason of being your first time bringing a child into the world. The second time almost killed you and your baby.

You’d been wary of having any more after that, fearful you wouldn’t be able to carry to term and the possibility of losing your own life. It would mean you wouldn’t get to see Penny and Wayne grow up.

It brought both you and your husband a sense of responsibility with your sex life that you hadn’t quite possessed before. There had been almost a four year gap between your oldest and (now) middle child and the gap between he and this baby would be even longer at about six.

Pretty good luck, considering you hadn’t wanted to get pregnant for a third time, at all. Yes, you had been wary before but now, with things between you and your husband as they were, it seemed irresponsible and senseless to bring another child into the picture.

Hell, conceiving your baby alone was a miracle. All you did was fight and ignore each other, made easier with the fact that Eddie was always away. Always missing school awards, always missing dance recitals and shows, parent teacher conferences, always missing out on your family.

Ever since Corroded Coffin broke through mainstream music, you and your children had to share your husband with the world. More often than not, it was the world who got to have him.

It led to fights, vicious ones. Words and insults thrown out, screaming, accusations ranging from spite to infidelity, and magazines thrown around with their intentionally triggering headlines featuring pretty women in the same vicinity as the man who shared your vows.

The man who once was just a boy you greatly admired in school, sat a couple of desks ahead of you. The boy who approached you and then followed from then on. The boy who was the first to make love to you, not fuck. The boy whose heart you had broken in the past. The boy who welcomed you back with open arms. The boy who asked you the most important question of your life while surrounded by a sea of high school graduates, caps and gowns. The boy whose baby you had a year after that.

You’d dreamt of a life with him, at his side while he pursued music with his band. And then life happened, and you were both surprisingly at ease with putting those dreams to rest, in favor of the new ones you welcomed in little bundles of blankets, smelling of baby powder.

You never let Eddie fully give up on pursuing music, he still played shows whenever he could, waving and blowing kisses from the stage at the tiny people in your arms with large headphones over their sensitive ears to protect them.

But that had been small venues, overnight trips at best.

Fame was an entirely different monster.

Fame was weeks away, and on occasion, months. When you had imagined your future with Eddie as a teen, traveling the world with him, there hadn’t been a family in tow. Kids.

You had them now, and you couldn’t imagine your life without them. Wouldn’t want to. It was unfair of you, and completely untrue, but you thought Eddie might.

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onlyhurtforaminute · 1 year

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youtube

PENNY COFFIN-PREDATOR

#PENNY COFFIN #DEATH METAL #HEAVY METAL #METAL #CONSCRIPTED MORALITY #2023 ALBUM

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sorchathered · 11 days

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Break my heart again 🖤

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Warnings- language, angst, Jake being an idiot, Bradley being a douchebag

Summary- Jake broke your heart and regrets it more than he can say, what happens when he sees you again but you’ve moved on? Or have you?

Jake Seresin could be a real son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone around him knew it, and after he broke your heart that rainy September night you knew it too. It played out like a bad romcom, “it’s not you it’s me, I’m just not ready to commit” all the pathetic vague bullshit that really just meant that he wanted to be able to be single and hang out with the boys instead of being “tied down” to you. It hurt, especially when it felt like it came out of nowhere. You had been thinking of forever, and apparently he’d been looking for an escape route. So you did what any heartbroken girl would do, got a new look, drank too much with the girls and blocked him from every social media you could.

That was nearly 4 years and two duty stations ago, all of Jake’s drinking buddies had grown up and had families, and now he was on the outside looking in a very different window. Longing for something he should have held on to, knowing it was too little too late.

He’d been back in California for almost a month, the special detachment had become permanent and it looked like the Dagger Squad was here to stay. He was in his own head while everyone headed out for the day, Coyote finally breaking him from his trance with his suggestion to meet everyone at the Hard Deck for dinner and drinks, a couple of the guys' families had made the move to Miramar and it would be a full house. Jake agreed, still in a fog but at least pretending to be interested in the prospect of meeting everyone.

Every night at the bar seemed to go the same these days, he’d drink a few beers, beat the brakes off everyone in darts, and take some pretty girl home only to kick her out in the morning. It was getting sad if he was honest, he hadn’t planned to be nearly 35 and alone, he figured he’d have a wife and at least a kid by now, he was tired of feeling sorry for himself. He needed to stop this endless cycle of bachelorhood, something had to change. He grabbed his beer from Penny and made his way to the pool tables, jolted from his pity party by the sound of the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard. He knew that laugh, hell it had haunted him for far too long. His eyes scanned the area, frantically searching for the face it belonged to, when there you were. Long hair in loose waves down your back, in a red sundress that could make a supermodel jealous, and your arms wrapped around none other than Bradley Bradshaw himself.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room, it was too hot and too loud, Jake felt like his skin was suddenly too tight for his body and he couldn’t seem to school his face to at least look normal. Javy’s wife Britt caught on that something was off, Jake was standing at the entrance of the pool area with his eyes wide and mouth gaping, so she kicked her husbands foot and ushered him to figure out what had his friend so shaken up.

But when he looked at Jake’s field of vision he knew, Bradshaw’s girl had looked familiar when they’d walked in but he couldn’t place her until now. He’d known you were Jake’s biggest regret, and he imagined seeing you in the arms of his biggest rival, probably stung like a bitch. He calmly made his way over, grasping his friend by the elbow and pivoting him towards the side exit, the night air would help, and maybe he could get him to spill his guts in the process.

Fuck this was a nightmare, he’d been thinking of you more and more lately these days, and seeing you in Rooster’s arms was enough to make him nearly throw up the contents of his stomach. He’d never felt this unsure of himself in his life and this was the final nail in the coffin. Coyote was worried, Hangman was never off his game, always the most cocksure bastard you’d ever met whether it be in the air or on the ground but this version of him was someone he’d never seen.

“Man come on, you gotta level with me. Was that y/n back there? I know that’s a sucker punch Seresin but you can’t let this drown you, it’s been what? Almost 4 years? You can’t seriously still be hung up on this” he shook his head in disbelief, his best friend had a wild reputation as a Casanova but somehow 30 seconds around this one girl had knocked him to his knees.

“She was everything. Everything you could hope for if you wanted to start a real lasting relationship and I tanked it before we even had a chance. I wanted to fuck around and sow my oats, what the fuck did that even do for me?! I’ve got nothing at home to keep my going, no one to miss me when I’m gone, and now she’s with fucking Bradshaw? Jesus. I don’t know if I can do this tonight man, I think I’m just gonna head out.” He smacks Javy on the arm and heads out to the lot, hating the sympathetic look he knows he’s getting from his friend.

Back in the bar everyone has noticed Jake’s abrupt exit, especially you. Leaning in to press his lips to your ear Bradley says “Well that took less time than I thought, you sure have got him twisted up honey.” He’s grinning, the little shit stirrer, and while you had expected more of a reaction you knew you were in for it when Jake finally got his head on straight.

You’d met Rooster in Japan, working as a medic while he was on a rotation around six months before. It had been a fun friends with benefits situation, no strings and while you couldn’t deny that the sex was phenomenal you were still in the mindset of settling down. Bradley knew that and had told you whenever you were ready to cut things off he’d respect it, you were a good friend and great company but he wasn’t marriage material and he knew it. So when he’d headed back to California and found out that not only was Hangman there, but that you were still hung up on him he had a golden opportunity. Fuck with Jake a little, and maybe get you your happily ever after, it made perfect sense to him even if you thought he was crazy for suggesting it. You couldn’t deny that it was working, Jake had been rattled and ran for the hills, maybe Rooster’s plan wasn’t so half brained after all.

Bradley made it his mission to irritate Jake as much as possible the following week, making sure to let everyone in his radius know he was taking lunch to his girlfriend, loudly answering your phone calls, even dropping flowers off at your office one day. It was maddening, Jake felt like he’d been deflated, he couldn’t even bring himself to string together a sentence when you were around not to mention how much you being around was affecting his ego.

He still hadn’t spoken to you since you saw him at the hard deck, you were so frustrated, you’d really thought he’d come show his ass and the two of you would have it out but it was almost like he didn’t even care you were here. You were so in your head as you headed for the elevator that you ran smack into a warm wall of muscle, dropping your files and your bag. “Oh shit I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking are you o-“ you cut off as you looked right into the pretty green eyes of your ex.

“Hey, yeah I’m ok, you alright? Here let me help you” he made quick work of gathering your stuff, accidentally brushing your hand as he handed you one of the files. You knew he felt it too by the sharp intake of breath, just being around each other was enough to bring it all back, it made you want to climb him like a tree and beg him to take you back. You were far too stubborn for that so you stepped away from him like his touch had set you on fire, for someone so uninterested in your presence he certainly looked offended by the action, brows creased with that pesky forehead vein poking out that you always used to pick on him for.

This was awkward, you’re not his anymore but being this close to you may drive him insane. Your perfume is the same, your hair is a little lighter but it suited you, and you looked so damn beautiful, just like you always had. He needed to say something, just staring at you was going to freak you out but he couldn’t find the words. Jesus when did he get so weird?! He muttered out a “see you later” and started to head back down the hall, but you grabbed his hand at the last second, yanking him back towards you.

“Ok what gives?! You’ve been so weird since I got here, I know things ended badly with us but you left me remember?”

“Oh trust me sweets, I remember. Biggest fucking mistake of my life.”

“I’m sorry…what?” He had to be fucking with you, this wasn’t what you expected at all.

“I did leave, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Fuck y/n I think it about it every damn day, I was stupid and thought I wanted to party my life away, all it left me with was a broken heart and an empty house. I know you’re with Bradshaw now so we shouldn’t even be talking like this-“

“I’m not with Bradley.” You blurted out. “I mean we dated for a little while but he knew how much you hurt me and couldn’t help himself. He certainly knows how to get under your skin.”

“Yeah well, I probably deserve it.” He said as he ran his hand over his face.

“You do” you said with a grin, but noticed he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“So you’re saying that you’re single then?” He said with his smug grin, all it took was knowing he had a chance to bring back the Hangman persona, you shook your head with a laugh, he was already reeling you in. “Yeah, yeah it looks like. Who’s asking?” He chuckled as he pulled you closer, hooking a finger under your chin.

“I am baby, and if I have it my way you won’t be for long.”

Stubbornness be damned, you’d had your fun and now all you wanted was to give in to whatever was causing the butterflies in your stomach, so you let him kiss you. Hot, heavy and definitely indecent considering the environment, you basked in what it felt like to have his lips on yours again. He pulled a way a little, reveling in the way you tried to chase his lips; maybe he had affected you more than you’d let on too. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t break your heart again, he was already dreaming up ideas of forever, it finally seemed like you both were on the same page.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @roosterforme @bradshawssugarbaby @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you

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duchess-kyuupid · 1 year

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So I had an idea, what if reader was the magicless student and didn't feel like going home because they knew they were dead in their old world?

So one day a friend asks, "What do you think you'd do if you got back home?"

And reader just replies nonchalantly with a straight face with, "Probably lie in a coffin six feet under."

The friend thinks they are joking but little do they know...

Could it be with Ace and whoever else you'd think best fit the scenario? Thanks! <3

Hello anon! Sorry this literally took forever (-ω-、) At first I had a hard time trying to figure out how to put it all together and who to do lmao I think I ended up doing pretty good, if I do say so myself (maybe a little bit overboard as it went on, though? Like the request looks like it's supposed to at least be a little bit funny but my brain says 'haha sad reader go brrr') Either way, I hope that you enjoy, darling <333

~ "I'm probably never going back." With Ace, Kalim, and Grim ~

[Angst to fluff, Platonic Grim, Gn! reader]

Ace

"So," Ace started, munching on his sandwich, "What d'ya go to the Headmaster for this time? You get stuck with another random job again?" he asks with a sinister innocent smile on his face as he eyes your own lunch.

"Actually, we were discussing the prospects of me going home," you stated nonchalantly, casually sliding your plate of food closer to yourself, knowing full well that Ace really only started this conversation to get you distracted so that he could get at your cherry pie (which the chefs had made specifically for you, as a thanks for helping keep the fireplaces warm over winter break).

Now, while you had certainly noticed that Ace was after your food (you were used to it already, after dealing with Grim after all of this time), you had failed to notice the way that Ace's smile fell off of his face for the faintest moment after he heard the words 'home' leaving your mouth, but he was quick to regain his notorious smile before you could see his disappointment. And in an act to tease you a bit (and to rid himself of the unknown feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach), he brazenly chuckles and states without thinking,

"Ha, I bet that old man probably told you to give it up. Like, what would you even do if you got back home?" Without a second beat you tell him with a straight face,

"I'd probably just be six-feet under."

"Right?" Ace agrees with a hearty chuckle. And he sees that you still for a second, lowering your head and taking a deep breath for a moment. In that quick moment of you losing concentration, Ace swipes the last remaining bite of your cherry pie with a cheeky smirk.

"So that's why I'm probably never going back," you clear your throat and look at Ace with a sad smile, tears brimming your eyes. And suddenly, Ace feels really, really guilty. He was just trying to lighten the mood by joking with you...about going home...

Ugh, how could he have messed this up, worse? It's impossible, I tell you! Ace knows that you've just been suddenly thrust into a world that you know nothing about, forced to attend a school where you barely even meet the minimum for the curriculum, and, to make matters even better for you, you're basically forced into doing whatever that Headmaster of the school tells you to, simply because he was just kind enough to let you stay at the school since you hadn't even a penny to your name nor your nonexistent family in this world.

Not only that, but you're also the prefect of this new dorm without any magic at all, and you're supposed to keep an eye on this random cat that nearly ruined the Orientation ceremony. And! You've also got to handle both him and Deuce, also known as the chaos duo to everyone who knows them. And he just stole the last piece of your cherry pie, which was honestly something that you more than deserve after all the shit that you've gone through. We all know that you weren't crying because of him stealing your pie, but this fact really was just the cherry on top of his sundae of regret.

So yeah, just label him as Dumbass #1 in your book, if he isn't already.

And he's not sure why he was surprised to see those tears in your eyes, but he was, and he's ashamed at the fact that he's never noticed how you've felt before. So in a frantic motion to fix things, Ace stands up quickly, saying a quick excuse to you about accidentally leaving something in his last class or something, and excusing himself from the lunch table before you could even react.

You honestly didn't know where he went after he left you at lunch, because he wasn't in any of his classes for the remainder of the day. It was only after classes, as you were walking back to Ramshackle with Grim, that you saw him next. He was standing in front of your front door with a nervous look on his face, but he was dressed quite nicely. Not quite formal attire, but it looked like he was expecting to go somewhere, at the very least. Once he saw you approaching, his face brightened for a moment, with a slight blush cropping up on his cheeks as you ask him what he's been doing all day.

"Well," he starts with a chuckle and his infamous smile, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I got permission from the Headmaster for us to leave campus for a while, so why don't we go check out some stores at the village nearby? I thought that maybe I'd show you around, since you'd probably beg me to keep you from getting lost anyway... Oh, and don't worry about paying for anything, I have it allll covered." He says that last part with extra emphasis and a more confident smile than before, hoping that that would be the ticket to getting you to agree. Little did he know, you were going to agree even if he wasn't going to buy you anything. And little did you know that one of the biggest reasons why he's decided to do all of this can be explained through one simple sentence: 'I want you to start liking this world more than your own.'

In truth, he'd struck a deal with Azul again in exchange for enough cash to buy whatever you wanted from any store (he's got a lot of work cut out for him in the upcoming future), but shh, you didn't need to know that. It would be all worth it if it means that you can get a chance at starting a normal life here...

And perhaps, maybe one day you might want to start living your new life with him by your side.

Kalim

Oh, Kalim. This epitome of sunshine was sharing everything about his family, his childhood, and his homeland to you with so much enthusiasm that you felt yourself feeling the twang of homesickness starting to erupt in your heart. But of course, this always happens with Kalim, doesn't it? First, he hurt the one who he's always adored as a brother- Jamil, and now, he's hurting you too, all without realizing it. You could never blame him for it, though. His genuine happiness and warmth was something that you looked forward to every day, and most of the time just being around him felt like you were basking in the sun on a cold day.

But, sometimes the warmth that he radiates so fervently starts to feel like too much, as if you were being scorched alive under the unbearable heat of the sun.

"So," Kalim says, taking a moment to catch his breath, "I think that's all of my brothers and sisters, plus all of my extended family too! We're a big family, so I know it's a lot, haha! Say, what's your family like?" he innocently asks with bright, expectant eyes.

And you know that he doesn't mean to do this to you, but you can't deny that right now you felt like his beautiful red eyes were burning themselves into your soul like a branding iron. You don't want to make it sound like you blame him for your predicament or his enthusiasm about his family, so you give him the best smile you can muster and divert the subject to the best of your ability.

"Well, they're really not as important as yours is. Can you tell me more about how the Asim family started out? Your family must have a lot of really interesting history."

"Oh, sure!" Kalim nods happily to your request, forgetting his own question shortly after as he continues in his own rant about his gigantic family and some of the more interesting parts of its history.

At this point, Jamil really couldn't bear to listen to this anymore. He's been quietly watching and listening in on your conversation with Kalim from his seat in the corner of the room, where he was supposed to be 'studying'. Jamil sees that Kalim's doing the same thing to you as what happened to him, and decides to step into your conversation. 'Might as well go ahead and rip the band-aid off before it gets to the point of no return,' Jamil thinks.

"Hey," he begins, cutting Kalim off mid-sentence, "Do you have any sort of plans for when you get to go home? If you can go home?"

And Kalim looks at you with a surprised look on his face at Jamil's question for you because of course you'd want to stay here in Twisted Wonderland with him and everyone else! He'd never thought of the idea that you'd ever want to go back home to your original world, Kalim felt like it was just a given that you'd want to stay even if you had the choice to leave. But now that he thinks about it a little more, he doesn't understand where he even got that idea from to begin with. After all, as someone who cares for his family and his homeland a great deal, he can kindof understand how you might feel after being torn away from all of that without any way of returning.

"Haha, well," you chuckle heartlessly, "I'm probably never going back anyway. I think if I went back home now I'd just be six-feet under or something." Your attempt to lighten the mood with your 'joke' fails when you hear the sound of your own voice saying it. You would be lying to yourself if you tried to claim that, no, your voice wasn't shaky, and that yes, you were completely fine with never seeing your family ever again. Jamil makes a comment that he was going to grab something to drink from the kitchen, leaving you in a moment of silence with Kalim following your rather dark 'joke.'

"Well, what's the harm in trying anyway?" Kalim asks softly, "You never know unless you try! Plus, even if it doesn't work out, at least you can say that you've given it your all, right?"

"That's the FUCKING problem," you snap, "I've BEEN trying to go back home, and nothing's ever working! And there's no way in hell I'm just going to give up and go ~'Well at least I tried'~ when it's my goddamn LIFE on the line here!"

Oh no, you didn't mean to start yelling at Kalim like that... But after hearing his flippant "at least you've given you're all" comment, all of the pent-up emotions just felt like they were going to explode if they were kept inside any longer. You feel bad for suddenly yelling at him, but at the same time, it felt like the water gates have finally opened, and before you knew it, more kept spilling from your mouth.

"I had a normal life back in my world, you know! I had people who cared for me, I had plans for the future that I painstakingly paved the road for for my entire fucking life. Everything that I've done in my life up to this point, it's all become utterly useless now that I've come here," you wailed, tears escaping your eyes as you spoke without constraint, "Can you imagine how it feels to have everything stolen away from you, Kalim? All of the people that I've created my childhood memories with, they're all gone! My scholarships, my college applications, my work experience- nonexistent! Hell, if you want to get into the legalities of it, I technically have never gone to school in my life before attending NRC because I never existed in this world before then." You take a breath to help calm yourself down, but after still feeling the flames of rage bubbling in your lungs, you continue to vent out your feelings.

"Do you know how it feels, Kalim, to have no idea whether the people you love know if you're dead or alive? To have to think about how they would react to my 'death' when I'm still kicking and screaming inside another world?! To have to think about everything that you've been forced to leave behind all of a sudden?" You're basically screaming out your frustrations to the sky now, as you couldn't bear to stare at Kalim as you cried out your miseries, "To have to think about the life you could be leading right now if you weren't dragged to some random world with no knowledge about it's countries, it's history, or even it's most fundamental principles like magic?"

Kalim's staring at you intensely, taking every single word you speak into account. Even as you got to the point where you couldn't speak clearly anymore, when you pushed yourself to where all you could do was sob, snivel, and blubber out your words of woe, Kalim sat there listening to you the whole way through.

At some point during your crying, Kalim pulled you gently into his arms in a tight embrace as he let you continue to let your feelings out. He was going to wait until it was all out before he even tried to say anything (reason one being, because it would be rather rude to interrupt you, and two is because he's been rather notorious for crying when he sees other people cry and he didn't want to make the crying spotlight on him)

When you were finally done, Kalim patted your head soothingly and spoke quietly. His own voice was shaky too, and he was also on the verge of tears just from watching and listening to you.

"I never knew you felt like that, I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier," he says, and just the sound of him trying to keep in his tears breaks your heart to pieces.

Your pain is his pain, your tears are his tears, and your smile is his smile because, even if he doesn't realize it yet, he truly loves you dearly. Kalim knows he can be really, really dense most of the time, which is why he never noticed these pent-up frustrations of yours when they were so obvious to Jamil, but he hopes that you'll forgive him for making you feel even worse.

"It's not your fault, Kalim. I'm not angry at you or anything- I'm sorry for yelling like that," you inhale, "It's just-... It just hurts, you know? Thinking about all of the what-ifs and the could-be's... But the truth is, I've had more fun in the short time that I've been here than in my entire life back home. And most of that's because of you, actually."

"Really?" he asks, a spark of his normal cheer returning to his voice.

"Yes, really. I might not be able to use magic, but it's been something that I've loved learning about since coming here. You know, the very first time you took me on a ride with the magic carpet, and I got to see this whole new world from way high up in the sky, I knew that nothing from my home could beat that experience. I'm going to miss my home, but it's not so bad when I know that you're here."

Oh, look at you- you were the one who just had an emotional breakdown right in front of Kalim, and yet you're the one consoling him! Your sweet words struck through his heart like cupid's arrow, and he internally vows that he will always be someone who brings a smile to your face- that he will do everything that he can to make sure that you're happy.

"Then," he perks up, wiping his face from any stray tears that might have escaped from earlier, "Let's go on another carpet ride together, outside of campus!" He exclaims excitedly, all hints of previous sadness gone from his eyes and voice.

"There's so many places I want to show you, but I think we should look for spots that look like your home! This world is a pretty big place, so I'm sure there must be somewhere that looks similar to yours. Tell me everything about your homeland- If we can't find something like it, then we'll just have to make it ourselves!"

Grim

It was in the midst of winter break that you started to feel more lonely. All of your other friends were gone and spending the holidays with their families, while you were still here at the school with your only company being Grim and the Ramshackle ghosts, who would come and go as they pleased. Everything was just so,, quiet, without the chaos duo Deuce and Ace around. Of course, Grim was almost always up to his own little shenanigans too, but most of the time they were harmless and it was just him entertaining himself with catching mice and such.

The silence of the winter break and the bleakness of the white snow was staring to take a toll on you, and it wasn't helping the fact that you're still experiencing nightmares beyond what you see in the mirror at night (this is not a jab at you, I swear).

For reference, you just had a dream that woke you up in the middle of the night, sweating and gasping for air as you tried to recollect yourself. Of course, you couldn't fall back asleep after what you've just seen, and Grim was still sound asleep in his corner of the bed. Quietly, you move to get up to go get some fresh air outside- not forgetting to bring your jacket with you to the freezing cold weather out there.

And you spent a bit of time in the silence of the night, sitting on the stairs of the front porch of the Ramshackle dorm with a heavy jacket tied to your shoulders, just staring up into the sky. This isn't the first time that this has happened, so you know that looking at the stars would usually help you out in times like these.

'I can see the stars so clearly from here. Back home, the stars would be so dim that most nights you could hardly see them because of all of the lights around.'

'Huh, I wonder what kind of constellations this world has thought up of. That kinda looks almost like a horse, if you look at it sideways.'

'I wonder what kind of galaxy this world is in. The Milky Way was nice and all, but something different could be nice, too.'

Those would be the kind of thoughts that would help calm you down after your nightmares and you'd start feeling sleepy again. You'd go back inside, maybe drink a little bit of water, and then delve underneath the covers of your bed and go to back to sleep.

But this time, though, you could hardly focus on anything else except for the contents of your dream. No matter how intently you stared into the night sky, there was nothing else that you could think of other than, 'It was just so realistic.'

"Hey, hench-human! There you are! 'Was wonderin' where ya went so late at night. Come back in already, you let the fireplace in the room die out and now the whole room's gone cold again," you hear Grim calling out to you from the now open door of the Ramshackle dorm.

"Sorry Grim, I'll be back inside in just a bit, just gimmie a minute, alright?"

"What? You're just gonna sit outside in this cold?" Grim exclaims, "What are ya even doing out here anyway?" And you hear Grim's paws tapping on the old wooden flooring as he scampers his way to you.

"Couldn't sleep, so I went out for some fresh air, that's all."

"Oh yeah? Had another dream about the Great Seven? Or was it that Mickey dude in the mirror again?" He pushes your arms away from your legs and jumps into your lap without another thought. If he was going to wait for you to get up and relight the fireplace, he was at least going to wait somewhere that's nice and warm- your lap.

"Actually," you clear your throat, "not this time, no."

"Then what's up?" And he just said it so casually, like either he knew that something was bothering you and he wanted to make the conversation comfortable enough to talk about it- that or he's just completely unable to read a room (which was honestly the more likely option). Either way, it made you pause for a moment, to think about whether you wanted to answer his question honestly or make up some sort of lie about it.

"I'm thinking about whether I should just go ahead and tell Crowley to give up on looking for my way back home," you admit, deciding on telling him half-truths for now. But your comment caught him off guard, and he looks back at you with surprise. "Huh, why would ya do that?" he asks.

"Well, I mean I'd probably just be lying six feet under if I do manage to go back, so what's the point in having Crowley waste his time on this? Besides, he's been using it as an excuse to make me us do all of his dirty work for him, and I don't want to be indebted to him anymore than I already am."

"Well, I guess that does make sense, but still, haven't you been wantin' to go home this whole time? What's with you givin' up now?" he grumbles.

"Awe, I had no idea that you hated me this much," you joke, "To think, that even my closest friend even wants me gone from this world! Oh, woe is me!"

"Hey, you know it ain't like that, henchman!" Grim pushes you playfully, "I'll have you know that, unlike SOME people, I care about my minions. If ya wanna go home, then you should keep tryin' to find a way back, especially if there's someone else doin' all the work for you."

"That's sweet of you to say, but I'm probably never going back."

"What makes you so sure?" And you don't say anything to his question, not for a while. Grim notices your silence and concludes his statement, "Well, if that's what you want, then alright. It just means that you'll be here to see me become the greatest mage in the world!"

"Mhm," you nod sluggishly, and the conversation goes quiet from there. Now, the heavy silence of the winter night fell upon the both of you, the only sounds being the creaking of the old wooden planks of the Ramshackle dorm, the frostbitten wind blowing through the air, and the soft shuffling of you petting through Grim's fur as he sits idly in your lap. The silence didn't bother either of you much, as Grim was nearly falling back to sleep with the soft movements of your hands brushing him and the warmth from your lap keeping the cold at bay. But as time continued to pass, your anxious thoughts started clouding the deep recesses of your mind once again and you felt compelled to speak upon them.

"Grim, I know that you're a monster and everything, but do you know anything about reading a human's pulse?" you speak suddenly, and he flinches awake at your question, rubbing his eyes tiredly as you continue without letting him answer, "You can find your heart rate just by pressing on your wrist, or placing these fingers against your neck, like this." And you demonstrated both actions to him.

"Grim,, I," your voice chokes up, "I can't feel my pulse... Earlier I had another nightmare, and I saw myself dying. In my world... It was so realistic, I..." Tears start erupting from your eyes as you recall the vivid memory, and Grim stares at you with wide eyes as you continue, "When I woke up, I felt like I could still feel the pain. It was so excruciating, I felt like I was going to throw up, so I came out here."

Your body was shivering uncontrollably with how you were trying to keep your tears in as you spoke, and you pull Grim closer to you in a hug close to your chest, "Grim, please tell me. Do you hear anything? Anything at all? Even if you lie to me, please just tell me that you can hear my heartbeat."

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

"I can hear it," Grim states seriously (I mean, after seeing the state you're in, it would be more than a little rude if he wasn't serious), "And I'm not lyin' to ya. It's super cold out here, which is probably why ya can't feel it, but you do have a heartbeat. I promise you, you're alive, right here, with me." He wasn't expecting this, but he tries his best to comfort you, though really he has no idea about what to do or what to say. But as awkward as his words come out as, it still works to help you calm down after a while. He waits until your breathing starts to slow down and your tears have stopped spilling.

"Henchman, I'm startin' to feel hungry for a midnight snack," he states, "I know you're hungry too, so let's go sneak into the cafeteria and see what they've got!" And he leaps off of your lap and looks at you with his bright blue eyes, "We can warm up by its fireplace while we're there too."

As he starts dragging you towards the school, he turns to look at you and he says, "The way I see it, the way you still get hungry or thirsty is how we know that you're still alive. You wouldn't need to eat or sleep if you were dead, like the ghosts, now would'ya? You really need to stop overthinking things like this, givin' me a heart attack when you start cryin' outta nowhere like that..."

~~~~~~

I accidentally wrote a whole mini-story for them, no wonder this request took so long </33 I really hope that you enjoyed reading this, anon! While I did have trouble at the beginning, things started falling into place as I kept writing 👏👏

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whoyacallinyellow · 1 month

Text

To The Fallen

Charles Smith x F! reader

Spoilers: major RDR2 events Content: 18+ mdni, m/f smut, drunk sex, angst, tension, possessive, canon typical events / violence, possible unintentional spelling mistakes Type: second pov (wc - 3693) / pc: pinterest

Summary: After the gang’s downfall, you join Charles on his endeavors. While roughing it in the woods, you convince him to share a drink with you…

“C’mon Charles, live a little.”

You encouraged the man, sat upon a log as he tended to the small campfire you shared. He sighed at your relentless begging, gazing at you over the orange flames. Truly torn, he hated to turn you down, but your safety was more important than your idea of a good time.

“What if something happens?— besides, someone needs to take care of you.”

The man reasoned with your buzzed mind, gesturing towards the half empty glass you cradled on your knee.

Your eyes followed him as he joined you, carefully studying his every step before he sat next to you, tobacco leeching off his clothes and filling the air.

“It’ll be fine.” You reassured softly, watching him glance longingly into the flames once again. His eyes carried a certain sorrow that did not leave since Beaver Hollow. Apathy had stuck to Charles like a ball and chain, burying his friends was a pastime he did not favor, with Arthur being the final nail in the coffin.

After the fallout of the gang, the two of you spent your time roughing it in sticks, you reckoned somewhere between Canada and northern United States. You felt as if it were the smartest move to be as far away as possible, while Charles was a man who did not like running. He was fully aware the severity of his actions came with a big price— but he was willing to compromise for you.

Charles always seemed to know what to do, and where to go. He found refuge in your company and trust, the close bond you shared only flourished after being by your lonesome. The man wouldn’t want it any other way, sometimes pondering where he would be, or what he would be doing without you. The doubts he kept quiet and buried deep often resurfaced the moments he was reminded how sweet on you he was.

“You could use one.” You continued, placing a small hand on his knee with the attempt to break his trance. You so desperately wished to lend him a penny for a thought, but your attempts usually went nowhere.

The man huffed in defeat, encapsulating his hand over yours tenderly.

“Maybe just one.”

Charles reluctantly agreed, his words barely finished before you filled his unused glass with a much needed relaxation aid.

You scooted closer as a Canadian breeze whipped past, which made his grasp slip politely around you. The man’s arm alone somehow carried more warmth than any blanket could give you. Or perhaps it was the security he offered with each touch.

“Uh— to the fallen.”

You propose awkwardly, raising your glass lazily to the man who met you with a stupid smirk.

With your tipsy state being more than amusing to the outlaw, your words would be teased and mocked in the morning, in addition to gentle kisses as compensation— if you were lucky.

“To good health, my girl.”

He compromised huskily, his words presenting a much more giddy side which had been long erased with time. Charles lounged in the moment, the drink would allow a disconnect from his thoughts, unwilling to think about the gang under the grip of a bottle.

You took his offer with a small clink, the contents of his glass sloshing and spilling into yours.

Charles always knew you had his best interest in mind, the same he held for you. And with everything that happened in the past year, maybe he’s been too uptight and miserable. He reasoned that self reflection would come after a night of fun, maybe he did need this.

The night seemed to slip from his grasp after that point. His incoherent banter blew through the trees and vacant wilderness, undoubtedly scaring any animal or man for miles. Charles would often lean against you for temporary support, his hand sneaking through your inner thigh, and lingering for a moment to prop himself upright before continuing his casual slurs. The bottle loosened his tongue more than you expected, allowing him to exaggerate a memory or two.

You have not seen the man wear such a toothy grin since Sean was rescued, a celebration where he took the liberty of more than one drink. As you walked past the rowdy group by the fire, he would match Sean and Karen by pulling you onto his lap. A drunken stunt he would never dare pull sober in front of the others, denying every bit of the scandal once teased the day after. His leg would bounce effortlessly to the music beneath you, wobbling you tightly to his chest. All you could think about was the stubble of his chin digging into your shoulder, the way his fingertips treaded dangerously close to your waist—as if he was taunting you. His hard bulge you rested on would go unacknowledged by the man as he bounced his leg, but not you.

It was a sick game he played and perhaps enjoyed a little too much, testing your willpower for him every moment available.

Charles’ one ended up being your three, his glass being long retired in favor of the bottle, swaying between his fingers as he nursed it sporadically.

As the man went over the deep end you just spectated, you figured the least you could do was take care of him for one night, as he does for you every other. One night off was the very least he deserved.

“S’enough now, reckon you oughta sleep.”

Your words interrupted Charles, an unmistakable hum rattling through his chest. It hurts you how much the gang lived within the man, even while blackout drunk, Javier’s rhythms that played years ago flowed through him.

You arose stiffly to your feet, which the man unsteadily followed, his arms swaying and outstretched to recoup some balance.

The fire had died down along with his energy, Charles’ half-lidded eyes wandered, barely illuminating off the flame.

Your unexpected touch at the man’s nether region triggered his reflex with a stagger as you unclasped his taut gun belt. Relieving him of today's responsibilities.

“Oh hush,”

You murmured, your concentration ignoring his sudden silence.

Glancing up at the man who towered over you was now stiff as a board, arms hung by his sides as he stared back directly into your soul.

His lips parted ever so slightly, but nothing came out besides a sigh, the bottle dulling his expression, but emphasizing fervency.

All Charles could do was stare, his mind clouding over his better judgment— the thought of you seemed to do that often.

He remembered a particularly sunny day at Clemons Point, a job gone not to plan. You tended to the man’s wounds as he recovered in a cot. Your eyes heavy and looming over each part of his injured body, a sense of worship you held for his temple he simply did not. White bandages decorated his torso and bicep, a familiarity with his body and scars that only you held. The sacredness and safety your touch gave him made his pride not allow anyone else to see him in such a way, not that he would ever tell you.

You would not speak while focusing on him, not even to ask for an explanation of the wounds. But your vibrant presence would keep him company in the midst of your silence.

The feeling would eventually leave him as you wandered off, he would watch your figure lingering in the distance, pondering while gazing off the beautiful lands camp offered you. Your apprehensive mannerisms worried the man, which he mistook as forlornness. Charles would justify the scenarios, a double edged sword he deemed to be second nature— you knew what type of man he was.

You would bide your time against a nearby tree in eyeshot of the cot, ensuring his peace. But would return before too long, your eyes slightly uplifted in spirit. Once again presenting Charles with the same feeling he had before you left the tent.

Perched up on the barrel level with the cot, the back of your delicate hand would linger on his forehead before caressing down his scuffed cheek, the same touches his mother would give him as a boy.

Your silence was louder than any words you could have said, you loved him and he always knew.

—

“M’sorry.”

The man uttered after a needy kiss. Insincerity snuck upon his lips, unsure of what exactly he was apologizing for— was it to you? Or was it guilt of the broken man he’s become?— when exactly did he dismiss the morals he subscribed to?

Now laying in the tent you shared, your lust for him kept him far from his drunken mind, his pants you had undone tempted his desires over redemption. Charles somehow held no recollection of your hands working down there.

Once again your silence was louder than words, fingertips tracing gingerly over his bulge. Subtly begging him to give into his desires, give into you. Charles always had different plans for your first time together, but the past years haven’t been kind, making the time never right— he never once considered taking you while a drunken idiot.

But your body would soon be consumed by that very same desire, he would only leave your lips momentarily while clothes were kicked off.

The unsuitable lighting made the man rely on his hands, touches that were a test of how well he knew your body, by now considering it an extension of himself.

“Charles,”

His name deliciously exhaled from your lips at the slightest feel of him. Your voice saying his name in such a manner forever burnt a mark into his mind. You molded into every touch of his, which only encouraged his high. His calloused fingertips ran from your hip bones to your breasts, touching the off guard parts of you to everyone but him.

“Yeah?”

Charles eventually answered, his gruff voice lowly exiting his chest with an unforeseen force.

Stroking himself, the man positioned at your entrance, his tip preparing you extensively. Charles’ neck craned back as pleasure began to soar through him, a sharp sigh being exerted at the slightest feel of himself in you.

“Think you can take me?”

Less of a question, the man wondered out loud through a slur. The syllables lazily slid off his tongue as he teased his head back and forth through your heat. His jaw had gone slack from a combination of ecstasy and concentration, your wetness and anticipation only grew with each of his strokes.

He hoped to get more noise from you. So desperately wanting you to be loud for him, no camp, no one to worry about— just you. You were his one and only focus, as it should have been from the start.

Your silence was temporary, captivated by your lover teasing you between your legs.

“Go on then,”

Your voice came out as a pitiful whine, a beg of yours he would not take lightly.

The large man hummed through his amusement and pleasure, his hands covering every area of skin he could on you. Scooting you closer to his preference came with ease, his pull on your hips united your thighs to his. With how light and sweet Charles’ casual touches were, you sometimes forgot how strong the man really was.

“Charles!”

Your frustrated moan was music to his ears, it broke through the man’s clouded brain like the sound of a gunshot. A distracted hand was still placed on the base of his cock, threading it through your lips in awe.

“Okay— ok, sweet girl, don’t know if I’ll fit s’all.”

He contemplated out loud, his voice remained low and primal, glossed over drunken eyes lustfully staring into yours, a hint of playfulness being held within the brown wells.

It was the same look they held the day of your hunting trip for Mr. Pearson. You insisted on joining Charles, less to assist and more to loiter and encourage the man. A simple and innocent request he would never refuse. You held onto his torso as he rode Taima, to his dismay your hands would wander further, and further down, until resting prettily on either side of his groin. You would see the man headbob towards the saddle, infatuated with both your boldness and touch— needless to say, you both returned to camp empty handed that day.

—

The wind that rippled through the tent canvas sent chills through your bones, your naked frame being consumed by goosebumps which the man took humor in. His rough fingertips wasted no time fiddling with your nipples before covering you with his body. Finally exchanging his body heat with yours that would not be needed for long.

Now fixated on your upper body, it did not take him long to cover you in his hungry mouth, his shaft still grinding against your lips as he eagerly thrusted, barely touching your entrance with each movement.

Taking matters into your own hands, your patience grew thin, reaching down and directing the man where you needed him.

The abrupt contact caused spots to flood in vision, Charles’ pleasure and whiskey filling his palette in a way he did not know possible. A part of him wasn’t sure if he would be able to stop after taking you, afraid he would accidentally hurt you in his drunken stupor. His lack of control over his dire state only showed the desperateness Charles usually hid from you.

Your fingers laced around the man’s bare chest, little nothings you would mumble as you took his length. Charles still doesn’t know what got into him, all the pent up desire for you finally being spent with a slow and powerful thrust that swooped to your core. Despite his eagerness and your moans, he somehow mustered up enough composure to allow you to get used to his size.

“So tight for me,”

Was all the man grunted through his drunken lust, he thought you took his size so well for him, almost as if you were made for him as a lover.

Your fingernails that dragged along his back earned you some groans and abrupt movements that were particularly passionate.

Hearing him in such a worked up manner only made you tighter around him. It was enough to nearly make the man lightheaded as pleasure roamed throughout the tent.

Words weren’t needed for Charles to understand that your desperation was mutual to his. Your walls continued to grow wet and clench around him with every adjustment and word of his, making a mess of the bedrolls beneath you both.

“You should’ve took me that night— at Shady Belle.”

Your unsteady words momentarily stopped the man in his tracks. His body frozen atop of yours as he mentally mapped out just how long you’ve been wanting him this way.

Charles remembered the look you gave him as he peeled off the layers of his bank heist clothing, gun belt falling to his ankles with a clank. He was the only man to return from Saint Denis that night. You followed him around camp like a lost dog, eyes glued to him, silently begging for an ounce of him. You always knew if any man were to return from a botched heist, it would be Charles Smith.

Your need for him then would go unfulfilled, his large hands lingered lovingly on your waist everytime he rushed past you to assist what was left of the gang, as if he silently acknowledged your desperation. Charles always carried that sense of urgency and composure you did not— he was the last man with a lick of leadership, afterall.

You wore a similar look now, needy and willing.

A lazy chuckle filled the tent before he planted a sloppy kiss on your lips, feeling your breath quiver against him was a reminder to continue.

“Should’ve said, my girl.”

Charles rebutted simply, allowing your moans to once again fill his ears as he moved swiftly but rhythmically.

After all this time Charles knew what kind of lover he wanted to be for you, in his mind he earned you and your desire to be with him in such a way. Which meant you deserved to experience your importance and much more.

Sensual and with purpose—at least for the first time. Each of his actions would show how much you meant to him. Charles thought about it more than he would like to admit, the days you would patch him up only encouraged the back door thoughts of showering your body in his devotion, your lingering touch merely drove those thoughts further.

But the whiskey consumed his prior plans of reverence, only to reveal how badly he needed this— how badly he needed you.

Every last bit of his self-control was thrown out the tent along with your clothes, discarded in the dirt by the fire.

His hands gripping whatever skin of yours he could, small marks of his fingertips peppered on you, further demonstrating the long overdue tension he held prior to taking you.

Lips and tongue that traveled on your breasts occasionally came with teeth, his excitement winning and the principals he usually held washed away with the prior drinks you shared.

These marks the man would notice in the morning, guilt and embarrassment surging through him while planting soft kisses upon the possessive marks— Did he hurt you? Was he too rough?— Was he foolish?— he doesn’t remember, his head hurts. Your words of praise would feel just as genuine as it did the night prior, reassuring the man you enjoyed him just fine.

Your touch ghosted down his chest and to his bucking hips, tracing the muscles that flexed with each thrust. Both of your thighs now sopping, Charles let out a low moan, his stomach knotting and quivering under your spell. He guided your hands back up, not wanting to reach his peak quite yet, and your excessive touch would overstimulate him to that point.

“Easy now.”

Charles whispered, his voice gravelly and hoarse, a vague warning which slipped from his lips as smooth as the booze went down. The man knew you were close under his control, and how malleable you were only drove him closer to the edge.

His braided hair had gracefully come undone from the intimacy, loose strands both dangling over your bare skin and sticking to his shoulders.

Your body quivered beneath him, sensing your climax was near with excessive moans and breaths you gave him. Hearing you moan his name fully unleashed would replay in his mind for days to come, your pretty lips trembling was a sight for sore eyes. Hoisting himself back to his knees, his bottom lip slid between his teeth, rubbing your clit while he admired how you gripped his cock. So trusting, so excited, so wet, and it was all for him?

His thrusts became more attentive, each one pressing and lingering deep within you, his back arching to meet your pelvis, ensuring no part of his length went neglected.

If Charles didn’t know any better, he would have lingered in you a moment longer before finishing, basking in the pleasure your high presented him with. The same high he has been subconsciously chasing since Clemons Point. But instead his shaft planted onto your stomach as he climaxed, animalistic groans exiting the man as he marked you.

Your lover’s chest heaved, lingering momentarily as he finished. Both soaked and relieved, he weakly lowered for yet another soft kiss. His necklace and hair tickling your collarbone as he recovered from his high.

The mind fog prevented any sort of disruption of his focus on you. Charles studied your torso as you recovered yourself, the small faded scar he stitched up for you back in Colter now glistened under his love for you, it seemed so long ago to the man. He never once thought in this lifetime the girl he saved from a seemingly fatal stomach wound would be the same stomach covered in his seed.

“‘Look real sweet like that.”

He hummed, pride and satisfaction littering his tone. His voice rumbled in his chest, presenting signs of sobering up after his chase.

“Oh?” Your lips formed into an amused grin, staring at your tired lover laying beside you, his toned figure barely visible in the tent besides the glossy formations of sweat beading down his chest. His dark eyes still hooked onto the mess he created on you.

“Real sweet.”

The man affirmed gently, figuring he would put you out of your misery and clean you off.

How whipped was Charles? He could not tell. Every kiss you would give him later that night threw him over the moon. Your fingertips soothingly outlined the scar on his jaw as he held you tightly, your frame curled within his, thighs that pressed against him unknowingly gave him a certain friction that begged him for another round.

But he decided you needed the rest, as he felt there would be more where tonight came from. He would make it up to you then.

The embers cracked in front of your tent, with the trees swaying the distance, the white noise was enough to lull you to a slumber. But the man forced himself awake just moments longer to experience you. Relishing in a feeling he never wanted to leave him. Charles wished the night lasted a little longer, as he did with most good things he was fortunate enough to have come his way. He always wondered what he did to deserve those things, especially with all the sins under his belt.

He felt as if he were sinking, or spinning, maybe it was spinning, his fingertips tapped rhythmically down your spine in his subconscious state, gaining your attention.

“Sleep with me.”

You cooed against his chest, words he could barely make out from your state of delirium.

The man kissed your forehead in response, his mind that tried running off into the night was anchored back to you. Like most things were.

Your wish was Charles' command, and he knew it would be the beginning of many more.

#charles smith #charles smith x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr x reader #rdr smut #rdr2 headcanons #idk if i like it #maybe ooc????#no one will get the title reference and im SCREAMING its so stupid lmao I cant stand myself

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