lestappen secret Santa

words: 1k

pairing: max/charles

warning(s): little explicit at the end

Charles deals with his new feelings regarding Max, like Max's hair, his eyes, his hands... Whilst an oblivious Max receives a funny secret Santa. They're both idiots.

Charles felt like he was always chasing Max, scurrying after the trail Max’s tenacious shoulders had cleared. When Charles’ hair flopped down into his eyes, they had karted against each other, but Max was first to progress into Formula One. Charles chased him, joined Ferrari, and felt the ever-present weight of expectations gnawing at his muscles just like Max surely had. 

But every time Charles would spy the angled eyebrows and pursed lips, the icy blue stare, Max seemed to be unfazed.

The impulsive snap of his jaws mellowed after his first championship. The frostiness in his eyes melted, darting pupils seeking out Charles in the paddock. He would gaze unabashedly at Charles, squinting in facile joy, relentlessly littering fleeting touches along the grooves of Charles’ back and waist. Max’s long fingers easily engulfed him, broad palm a steady, heavy weight on Charles’ skin.

So Max occupied Charles’ thoughts in a different way. No longer did he have to swallow down the ugly bile of jealousy clawing up his throat. Or lock away the frustration accumulating into incessant throbbing headaches. 

Charles would flinch awake, chest heaving, skin glistening under the pale moonlight that sneaked through flailing curtains. He could only remember a vague blur of his dreams; the golden flash of skin emphasised by the intense embrace of sunlight, the murky gradient of blues, and a blase rasp of laughter. 

He would fling the damp sheets off his body and rub his thighs together to confirm the stickiness painted along his skin. Blood would rush through his head like sand grains in a timer. He stripped off his underwear, silk boxers ruined, and carelessly chucked them into a laundry bin. A cold shower eased the erratic gush of blood in his heart. He’d flick the switch for the fan off, then the lights, hastily rub a towel over his body, and trundle back to a sheet-less bed and fall asleep. It became a routine that Charles found himself having to repeat at least twice a month. 

The sexual frustration was beginning to rattle Charles and his ability to function normally. A track walk became precarious, eyes itching to spot a glimpse of any Red Bull team members so he could avoid them. Max’s pallid, calloused fingers grazed the fine hair on the back of Charles’ neck. Max’s frame caged Charles in inadvertently, the sharp lines of his jaw and nose daring Charles to move away. 

Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants whenever he replayed that particular memory. He squeezed his eyes shut almost painfully, reopening them when pulsing patterns of white and black swam under his eyelids.

A woman handed him a bright, childish Santa hat which he pulled over his ears. Her hair was brown with streaks of blonde that reminded Charles of—

“Alright. Ready to find out who you’re going to be secret Santa for?” A nondescript crew member behind the camera asked, handing over a pouch with strips of paper inside.

Charles tentatively reached inside and grabbed the first piece of paper he could.

His eyes wrinkled subconsciously. His lips parted to emit a light, disbelieving giggle. 

“Max Verstappen,” he said, still laughing, unable to mask the glee blooming across his face. 

xxx

Thanks for the gift mate. Haha! Loved it.

The text was so Max, breezy and sincere all at once. Pierre had told him Max had asked for his Whatsapp so he could thank Charles for his present. 

When the video finally came out, a few days before Christmas, Charles was hunched over in his bed, sheets messily drawn around him like a nest. He turned the brightness up on his laptop and sunk back into his pillows. 

Max’s Santa hat rested atop his Red Bull cap, of course, and his erupting throaty laughter as he ripped open the wrapping paper and saw a photoshopped Charles tripled across the cover of the F1 video game, made Charles pause the video and collect himself. 

Max’s lengthy fingers delicately cradled the Ferrari notecard, turning it over and laughing that raspy, breathy chuckle of his. "For my biggest fan" he read out, voice delectable. The combination made Charles distinctly aware of the prickly sensation dancing above his skin. 

What he did next Charles was not proud of. He dragged his hoodie over his head in one rapid pull. The heater whirring through Charles’ apartment did little to alleviate the balmy flush of his chest.

The video, forgotten on Charles’ laptop, had ended. Charles manoeuvered his laptop off his lap so it lay to his left. 

With his right hand, he rubbed loose circles on his naval. With his left he replayed a section of the video, chewing on his lip as he concentrated on how tight Max’s shirt was around his upper arms. 

Charles snaked his hand under his boxers and hissed at the dry scrape of skin against skin. He’d been hard since the first viewing of Max’s portion of the video. He gathered the pre-cum that had accumulated at his tip and used it to soothe the glide of his hand. 

Max’s section ended and Charles dutifully rewound to play it back. He briefly wondered if he should try and loop it. 

Charles’ groan snagged on his throat, hand working faster as Max giggled again, eyes narrowing until they were two arched slivers of blue. 

Charles could not help his eyes fluttering shut as he spilled into his hand, the image of Max in a stupid red hat and navy team shirt burned into his eyelids. The whisper of Max’s name curled around Charles’ tongue. 

Dick barely softened, Charles smacked his laptop shut and stretched for his phone. He unlocked it and located Whatsapp. Max’s profile picture glared at Charles like he knew what the Monegasque had just done. His face erupted into a shade resembling vermillion. The colour bled through to his neck and sweat-covered chest. 

Charles swallowed the guilt. It instead settled in his gut. 

With his clean hand, he slowly typed out a message.

Hey Max. Would you like to go to Jimmyz tonight with Pierre and me?

His phone buzzed with Max's reply as he was crumpling dirty tissues.

Yeah sure. See u tonight.

EDWIN and CHARLES in THE CASE OF THE VERY LONG STAIRWAY

One thing Santander won't miss is soft launching them

He’s An A**H***

Pairing: Charles x bestfriend!reader, Lando x reader

Rating: R

Request: Yes/No

Warnings: SMUT, threesome, slight dom!charles, slight dom!reader, slight sub!lando, public nudity?, sex club mentioned, pining Lando

Synopsis: After the race Charles can’t help but call Lando an asshole, but you have been planning something between you three without the drivers knowing and finally get what you wanted.

"He's a dick, a fucking dick; I mean, god fucking dammit, how did he not see me!" Charles yells in his hotel room, slamming his Ferrari hat down onto the bedside table. You can't help but roll your eyes at your best friend, knowing he didn't mean it; he was just pissed he couldn't get some more points, and now he had to battle it out in Abu Dabhi. You lay on the bed, letting him rave as you decide what to wear to dinner tonight. Maybe the red silk dress with giant x stitching across, showing off the skin from the side boob to mid-thigh, or the silver dress that was flowy, and you wouldn't wear a bra or panties wanting to get laid. "Y/n? Are you even listening to me?" Charles groans, picking out his outfit for the night as you look up, biting your lip.

You and Charles have known each other for years, but recently after getting jealous about Pierre, did he decide to fuck your brains out. Ever since then, you both couldn't help but fuck like bunnies, and right now, you wanted him bad. "No, I'm not listening; I'm thinking," you grumble, making him roll his eyes at you now. "About what?" He asks, grabbing a white button-up and dark jeans. "Me riding your face." You say it so casually that Charles about chokes on his spit as he whips around to face you. "Really?" His voice changes; that slight gravel tone he gets when he's angry or turned on makes you smirk to yourself; you felt like playing a game tonight, one he had no idea he'd be a part of. "Mhm, maybe you have me choking your cock." You giggle as he moves closer, bending down to kiss you, but you stand up quickly, making him fall on the bed. "But we have a party, so let's get dressed and go." You shrug, grabbing the silver dress, knowing it'll be easy to access. Charles groans but nods as he tries hard to get the mental images of you riding his face and then shutting you up with his cock out of his head. Charles smiles at you as you make your way to the door and leave for the party. Charles can't help but stare at you the entire ride in the elevator. The way he wanted to hit the emergency button, stop the elevator and lift that dress up, and just fuck you deep and hard, making sure to leave his mark on you the rest of the night, was almost too much to bare. The familiar ping of the elevator stopping has his eyes peeling off you and hardening at the sight of his anger. Lando. "Hey, guys." The younger driver smiles, not acknowledging how Charles wished for him to burst into flames at this very moment. "Lando, you look......gorgeous." Choosing your words carefully, having a goal for the night neither boy knew about. Lando turns red under your compliment. It was known in the paddock that Lando had a school's girl crush on you and always shined under your praise. You smirk, seeing the blush on his cheeks, and reach up, your perfectly manicured nails scraping the back of his neck as you lean over, kissing his cheek. Charles seethes seeing how you were so openly affectionate with the Mclaren driver, who shivers under the slight scrape of your nails. You slice your eyes at Charles, almost screaming with joy from how his jaw was clenched and how rigid he was standing. Just a little bit more. Is all you think about getting that goal of the night and also dealing with two problems at the same time. The elevator doors ping again and open them to the lobby floor of the hotel. You exit first, walking slightly ahead of the drivers. You look down, noticing that your black heels strap is undone on one of them, and smirk at the opportunity. Your dress was short enough that Charles and Lando got a perfect shot of your assets when you bent over. "Fucking Christ." Lando gasps, turning bright red, trying to look anywhere but at you while Charles openly stares at you until he snaps back to reality at Lando staring. "Look away or even fucking touch her, and I'll bury your goddamn ass." Charles seethes in Lando's ear, nodding his head and looking down as you straighten back up and turn, giving them both a sly smile. "Are you two coming or not?" You ask as they both walk up to you, Lando mumbles softly about it being in his hand later, but you act as if you didn't hear him. "Say something, Lando?" Stepping closer to him and moving your arm into his locking them together. Charles raises an eyebrow at this, you were up to something, but he couldn't figure it out. He was aware of the driver's feelings for you and knew that you were aware of this, but you were playing with him like a damn toy. "Let's get going; I want to dance." You whine, locking your other arm with Charles's, dragging them to the car outside, and climbing into the back, waiting for them. Charles looks at Lando and motions for him to get in; while he wishes for his death, he is curious about where you are taking this. Lando slides into the car as Charles follows after him. The car ride to the club is silent, but you fill the silence with soft touches to both boys. Charles is used to this; when it was quiet, you just let your hands run wild, but Lando wasn't. Lando moves and grabs your hand; stilling it, he tangles your fingers with his own and lays it on his lap. But you move free of the hold and place it on his thigh. You cast a look his way, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and would stop when he said or did something that indicated this, but Lando arches into your touch. Nails dig into his thigh, making him bite his lip and look away so he wouldn't jump you in front of your boyfriend. Charles watches the whole thing and rolls his eyes, but he can't help but watch Lando's reactions to you. Charles knew this side of you, the side that wanted control over a pretty boy and made him beg for you; he's been in this situation once or twice, and god, he loved it. The car stops pulling all 3 of you as the door swings open, revealing Pierre. "Oi, come on, the party is already started, and I'm missing the dances." He whines, pulling Charles out of the car. "What dances?" You ask, having never told Lando or Charles this club was famous for the female dancers and private rooms. "Don't worry about it, Y/N," Pierre smirks and leans over, kissing your cheek before practically dragging your boyfriend away from you and Lando. "Well, care to escort me in, Lando?" You ask, pressing your body into his. Lando nods his head dumbly at you as you giggle and drag him into the booming music and pulsing lights. Time ceased to move as you and Lando had drinks before Charles found you both on the dance floor. Your bodies are pressed into one another. It'd look like Lando was in charge to an outsider, but that wasn't true. You controlled every movement, spreading your legs so Lando could move his leg between them as you ground against them. Charles moves and presses himself against your back, jolting you, but a lazy smile spreads against your lips seeing Charles. His hands move from your hips ghosting all the way up to your tits and groping them tight, a hiss of breath leaving your lips. "Having fun, baby?" He whispers in your ear, making you nod your head, whimpering when Lando presses you into his thigh. Lando looks up, makes eye contact with Charles, and just gives a tipsy smile as he moves his focus back on you. You three dance for a while until you feel fingers lift your dress up slightly, seeing Lando get antsy. With a grip on his wrist, he stops. "Upstairs, now please fuck; I need you both," you beg the boys, and they both stop and have unsaid words pass between them. The trip up the stairs was a mess of touches and words of promises to do to one another. But Charles walks behind the two of you, watching as you pull out a key card and shove Lando into the room. "Charles, come here." You whisper as Charles moves, winds his right hand into your hair, and yanks it hard, making you whine and curse. "Are you wanting to fuck him, baby? Hmm? Was that your grand scheme? I could practically smell you in the car with how much you want him." Charles groans, his left hand under your dress, feeling how wet and needy you are. "Yes, please, please, Daddy, I need it, just once. Let me have him just once." You beg Charles, who smirks and moves you back into the room as Lando lays on the bed, breathing heavily, his pants undone as he feels himself up. You lick your lips and drop your dress as Charles groans, eyes racking over your naked body. Walking towards Lando, you push his hands away and get him to sit up and you on your knees. "Let me take care of you, baby boy." You whisper, making Lando nod quickly as he frees himself from his boxers. Lando was average size length-wise, but he was on the girthy side as it rests heavy in your palm. Charles moves and sits down in a chair, only admiring your ass and head as it leans down and takes the Mclaren driver's cock into your mouth. Lando whines and his head is thrown back from the warmth of your mouth, wrapping around the head of his cock. Lando twitches as you slowly tease him, your tongue lapping at him like a lollipop as you pull off the head, a pretty cherry red as precum leaks drawing your lips to lick it off him as you admire how pretty he looks in the low lights, with flushed cheeks and relaxed. Taking a breath, you lean down and take him in one go that has him moaning so loud the sound makes your pussy clench around nothing but air. Charles squirms, his pants growing tight as he moves, undoing them, and lazily starts to stroke himself as he watches the two in front of him. "wait, stop; if you keep going I'mma cum." Lando whimpers as you pull off and stand up, towering over him. Grabbing his chin, you have him look up at you and kiss him in a slow tease before pulling away and looking at Charles. "Fine, but I want Daddy to eat me before the main course." You whisper; Charles stands up and grabs your hips pulling you against him and feeling his cock press into your folds. Lando swallows thickly as he watches Charles toss you onto the bed like nothing before grabbing your knees and spreading you wide open, the cool air making you arch up. Lando moves to stare at your hole, the way it almost begs for the attention of some kind, and the way Charles moves, kissing your stomach and whispering soft words in your ear before nodding, and he dives in. Charles was precise; he knew you inside and out, what you liked and how to get you so close you would cry to cum for him. Charles licks you up and down as his thumb rubs your clit, making you whimper and reach out, pulling Charles's hair, having it become that gorgeous mess that causes girls to go crazy. He groans and rubs harder as his tongue dives, making you curse and writhe against his mouth. Charles pulls away and looks right at Lando, who moans at the shiny mess around his friend's lips and chin. "That's how you do something, asshole. Let's see if you could make her cum." Charles tuts, and Lando feels this burning rage fill his chest at the insult. "Please, the only reason she wants to fuck me so bad is probably that you can't get the job done anymore." Lando snaps, making you giggle and sit up and straddle his lap rolling your hips against his dick. "Now, boys, let me remind you that I'm in charge here." You whisper, reducing Lando into a whimpering mess again. "Yes, ma'am," Lando whines, his hands on your hips, making you grind faster on him. You can't help but stop and kiss him when he calls you that. It's a mess of tongue and spits before sliding him into you with one feel grind of your hips. Lando groans into the kiss and moves to lay you down so he's on top as he moves his hips in and out slowly. You whimper, nails scraping down his back as Lando buries his head into your neck, loving how you smell like your perfume. "Fuck, faster, Lando, please; god, I ache for you so bad." You whimper, your hands trailing down to his ass and digging your nails into him. Lando groans and starts rocking his hips in and out fast as you cry out, but it's soon muffled when Charles shoves his cock down your hole. "I'll die before I hear you moan like that for another man." He growls as you nod, quickly maneuvering your tongue around him as he fucks your throat. Lando groans, feeling you tighten around him. "Jesus, fuck, y/n. God, you feel like goddamn heaven." Lando cusses, driving into you harder as you grab his ass and spread your hips more, feeling his balls slap you with each thrust. Charles groans and pulls out of your mouth as you sputter and whine, nodding your head. "I'm gonna cum, fuck Lando right there." You whimper as Lando bounces and hits the same spot multiple times before your cry out cumming around him. Still, Lando swallows your cries with his mouth and tongue, fighting for dominance as Lando stills his cock, twitching as he pulls out fast and cums on your thigh. You both pull away as Lando kisses your cheeks and neck. "I'll be dead before Charles hears your moans as you cum for me," he grumbles, making Charles chuckle as he pulls you out from under the Mclaren driver. "You okay, baby?" Charles asks, ensuring you weren't hurt or unable to continue. "yes, I'm perfect; I want you." You whisper as Charles nods and pulls you up face to face, chests pressed against one another as he slowly slides into you. Your face pinches from the slight burn from where Lando made you sensitive. Charles freezes, but you nod your head for him to continue. It wouldn't take him long to make you or him cum as you could always hit that second orgasm after the first, and he pushed to the edge. Charles rocks his hips up slowly but deeply into you as you both forget about Lando and whisper soft words to one another as Charles fills you up with praises and himself. You whimper, feeling his pelvis hit your clit as you grind down on him in that familiar spine-tingling burn gather in both your stomachs as Charles starts to rock up into you faster, kissing you deeply as you both whine and cum together. You both gasp for air as Lando moves to the bathroom, grabbing a warm wet washcloth and handing it to Charles. "One-time thing," Lando whispers, kissing your cheek and giving the cloth to Charles. "And by the way, I win." He whispers to Charles, who rolls his eyes at the younger driver. "Bye, Lando." You whisper, body tired as you crave Charles's comfort Lando kisses you one last time before walking out of the room, leaving Charles to care for you. Oh, how Lando wished it was him instead of Charles, but it was only a one-time thing.

bringing this back! 🤭

sorry just.

look at how vulnerable erik is being here

and charles just. being unable to talk about it

and erik going along with him immediately. snapping back into that cool facade

Pairing: Charles/Max

Prompt: AU in the sense that Max is Max (3x WDC) and Charles is a streamer -- either an existing professional, or a teeny tiny streamer who just started out. Either way, Max stumbles into his stream (drunk) one night after celebrating a win and starts anonymously chatting. They get closer, Max mentions the idea of sim racing, Charles seems interested, and he donates enough money for Charles to buy a REALLY good set up.

Cue them developing a bit of an online friendship, either entirely via Twitch or moving to Discord. Charles and Max might race together, maybe Max makes fun of him for being bad (or maybe he has a natural knack?). Either way, Max doesn't share who he actually is, and Charles is annoying but endearing.

Maybe Charles gains a significant enough following that he gets invited to a race through a sponsor? And Max has to decide how he wants to approach talking to his literal friend while acting like a "stranger"

(how do they get together? dealer's choice)

DW: Getting together, pining

DNW: angst without a happy ending

If you’d like to fill this prompt, click here for our Fills FAQ 💖

Runnin' Home To You - read on ao3

The winter break. The time of year that either leaves people longing for more, or an appreciated break from the world of cars and speed. For Charles leclerc it's a different situation. During this time of year, he's apart from everything he loves, everyone he loves. The way he grabs onto charles when they share a podium, the looks they share while they achieve one of their few moments alone. Charles can't see his life in racing without Max Verstappen being there with him. From the early years of karting, Charles knew he loved max. His entire mind and way of thinking revolves around max. The way he races, the way he does not find any genuine attraction to anyone other than max. It's almost as if he's been poisoned and rotted by his fellow dutchman. 

After Abu Dhabi, Charles found himself not wanting to leave Max's side because he knew that once he did, it would be one of if not the last time he saw Max before the next season's testing. His heart ached everytime he had to spend time away from max. He wondered if Max ever felt the same way, he doubted that as he watched Max walk over to his new girlfriend, one that came upon somewhat suddenly. He watched as they hugged each other tightly, embracing the other's presence as Max exclaimed with joy after winning his fourth world drivers championship. When Max leans in to kiss her, Charles can't bear to watch as it just hurts too much to see the man he's loved for his entire life, act so affectionately to someone that isn't him. 

That was what Charles thought would be the last time he saw Max that year. He spent most of his winter break attempting to take his mind off of the fact that he is so in love with the boy who was sent from the stars. He spent nights laying in bed, deeply wishing Max was there with him. To laugh with and to hold, to stare into his oceans of eyes and tell him how right from the start, he was the light in the dark. 

But alas he can't. He lay there in his cold, empty bed and continued to wish. It's a colder & rainy night, not cold enough to snow. He listens to the droplets of rain rattle against his windows, as he turns over to face the moonlit & rain scattered window, he hears a loud, but stern knock at his apartment door. 

“What the-”

knock, knock, knock

2:37AM

After quickly checking his phone, Charles drags himsout of his bed, throwing on the nearest joggers and whatever loose tee he can get his hands on. As he's making his way towards his front door, hes wondering who on earth could be at his door at this hour, surely nobody import-

“Max?!”

“Charles.. May I please come in?”

“Oh, of course here..”

As Charles is making wax for Max, he's left utterly speechless as to why Max Verstappen is at his door, dripping wet with monacan rain, asking to be let in. surely there's no logical reason for this. 

“Max.. why are you here”

“Shit- charles im sorry, i knew it would be a mistake coming here.”

“No, talk to me.”

Charles brings them both over to the sofa, he offers max a drink but he abruptly declines

“So max, are you going to tell me why you've shown up at my doorstep, at 3 in the morning and soaking wet?”

“She left me, charles.”

‘Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, but it doesn't really explain why you're here like this.”

“Something in me just really needed to see you, I tried calling Daniel for a word of advice but nothing and nobody is helping. I guess I just- really needed to be with you for this. You understand, right?”

Charles is at a loss for words. THE max verstappen.. needed him?? He didn't know how to respond or how to feel about this information, all he could do was sit there and stare at his beloved, not noticing his gaze moving to the freckle on Max’s light pink lip. 

“Charles?”

“Uh- yes max. I get how you feel. Sometimes you just can't help but only want one specific person at times.”

“Yeah”

The two men sit there in silence, thoughts racing through minds. Max worries that he's making Charles uncomfortable so he's urged by his mind to get up and leave. He really doesn't want to, but he doesn't want to make his situation worse by ruining things with the person he genuinely loved. The person that was the root of his breakup with his now ex girlfriend.  

 - 40 minutes before -

“You only talk about charles!! Charles did this, Charles said that. Charles talked about these things and that person charles charles charles!! I’M supposed to be your girlfriend, not charles. I've had enough of being put second to somebody you're supposed to be rivals with. It's going to be either me or Charles, Max.”

Max did not respond to her, instead he walked out the door and walked straight to charles apartment where he knew charles would lie awake at that hour. 

Ever since Max was a young boy, he knew he had some types of feelings for charles. He didn't care about winning against the other racers, he only enjoyed racing against charles. Seeing the way Charles would be left frustrated after knowing Max is the only one he couldn't take on. He enjoyed the rush he got from teasing Charles of the win, knowing he would come out on top every single time. 

When Max met Kelly, he thought he had found it all, but soon he started to feel as if there was something missing. He felt empty. When he realized it was because of these feelings for Charles, he tried so desperately to ignore them but the more he tried the more he couldn't keep his mind, or his eyes off of charles. He thought Charles was the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. Charles was everything to max and max was everything to charles, but neither of the which knew of the others “secret”

—

“I think i should leave, im sorry charles”

“What? Why?’

“This was wrong. Enjoy your night.”

“Max”

Max turns towards the door aiming to leave but charles quickly follows and grabs max by the back of his shoulder

“Max.”

Brushing off Charles's hand, he stands there, slightly hovering over charles.

“Please stay” he says, looking up into the madness of max's eyes.

And that was all max needed to feel sure that coming here was, in fact, not a mistake. 

October 8, 2023 - Lusail City, Qatar Source: Dan Istitene - Formula 1/Formula 1 via Getty Images

Convinced my 10 year old brother that Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen are dating by showing him edits of them longingly staring at each other.

If there’s a will, there’s a way, and Lestappen is literally the inevitable and the predestined.

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: A well deserved hunt with Charles, met with an unexpected surprise back at camp...

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 5 - My Heart Beats On As Warmly Now

“What began as a journey had become a retreat into the unknown. We were backing into the abyss; so worried our sins would follow us we didn’t bother watching where we walked. And behind us was a cliff.” ~ Elsa Dutton 1883

Arthur’s anger dissolved with the storm, replaced by a heavy sense of regret as he trudged back to camp that evening. All he wanted was to drown his shame in a few bottles of liquor, away from prying eyes, away from the disappointment he felt in himself. He hadn’t intended for Kate to see that side of him, not yet at least. And certainly not against a sickly innocent man. He let his anger and frustrations get the better of him. Like he switched on auto-pilot and let the outlaw in him take control. He worried now that Kate might actually leave, and he blamed himself for that.

Swiftly, he made his way to the crate of beer bottles behind the chuck wagon, grabbing a few before retreating to his tent. He craved solitude, a respite from the demands of camp life, from the weight of his own mistakes.

Seated on his cot, a beer wedged between his legs, Arthur opened his journal, the one constant in his life since Dutch and Hosea taught him to read and write. It was his confidant, his sanctuary in a world of chaos. John always gave him shit for it growing up, calling him a pansy and constantly trying to snoop in his personal entries. 

Despite being in a gang for most of his life, he still felt incredibly lonely. There weren't many people he would truly open up to. So his journal became that person. It was the one thing that did not judge him, ever. But even as he poured his thoughts onto the page, he longed for a human connection, someone to truly understand him.  

Hosea and Dutch had been like parents to him, raising him from a young age in the ways of the outlaw. They had their flaws, but they had also shown him kindness and guidance when he needed it most. He always saw Hosea as his father, he would consider Dutch his father too, although he was more like an older brother at times. Hosea was probably the only person who truly knew Arthur, and saw the things he wished not to speak about. Neither parent was perfect by any means, and Arthur could recognize that. But even as an adult, there is still a child inside that longs for the comfort of a father. 

It was that fatherly instinct that drove Hosea to Arthurs tent that night.

“Evening Arthur,” he greeted, holding open the tent flap, “may I come in?” 

He put down his journal and nodded. Gesturing for Hosea to join him on his cot. 

“I noticed Kate didn’t ride back with you, is she okay out in this storm?” He inquired.

Arthur smiled with a slight shake of his head, that's Hosea for you. Always worried about others, here he was checking on his son but was more concerned about the lady he left behind. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, saw her heading into Valentine,” he answered, taking a sip of his beer. He handed one of the full bottles to Hosea as the older gentleman sat down.

“I take it things didn't go well then,�� he said with a hint of sympathy.

Arthur sighed, “when do they ever.” 

As they sat together in the dim light, the rain drumming softly on the canvas roof, Arthur felt a sense of comfort in Hosea’s presence. He didn’t need to explain himself, didn’t need to justify his actions. Hosea simply listened, offering silent support.

“I don’t know why I do it,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “The man was sick and weak, I should've just given him a warning.” Arthur concluded with a shake of his head. 

Hosea sighed knowingly. “I think you can blame your fathers for that son,” taking a sip to clear his throat, “Dutch and I did what we thought was best at the time and well, you were quite impressionable when you were young. We used that to our advantage to turn you into a grade A outlaw.” He said gently with honesty. 

Arthur chuckled at the memories of his youth, before John came along he was the golden child. He used to love it when Dutch would teach him how to pick locks, or when Hosea taught him a whole book of curse words. Had he not been the son of outlaws, his life would’ve looked very differently. 

“We’ll always be thieves,” he mused with a hint of nostalgia, “only difference now is that the world don't want us no more.” 

Hosea nodded, silently agreeing, “We're doomed just like every other creature on this rock Arthur,” he remarked with a wry smile. “I just wish I had acquired that wisdom at less of a price.” 

After a moment of contemplative silence, Arthur spoke, his voice heavy with regret. "I just wish I’d done things differently," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the floor. His remorse mixed with his actions at the Downes ranch, and for every mistake he’s made in the past that led him here. 

Hosea laid a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder, a silent gesture of understanding. "We can't change the past, son," he said gently. "All we can do is learn from it and strive to do better in the future."

Arthur nodded, the weight of Hosea's words settling over him like a blanket of reassurance. "I don't want to be the kind of man who hurts others for no good reason," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I want to be better, for Kate, for everyone."

Hosea squeezed Arthur's shoulder affectionately before rising to his feet. “She’ll come around, son.” He offered a parting reminder, “underneath it all, you have a good heart.”

Before he disappeared into the night, Hosea turned back with a final piece of news. “By the way, your brother wants to speak with you about using that oil cart you found to rob the train tomorrow night.”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. “He ain’t my brother,” he muttered disdainfully.

Hosea chuckled. “Well, you two sure argue like brothers. G’night, Arthur.”

He tipped his head to the old man as he left, “night Pa.” 

Arthur laid back on his cot, tucking his journal into his satchel when something small and round fell out and made a soft pitter on the ground. When he looked down he saw the peach pit, the one Kate gave him on her first night. He reached to pick up the small seed. His thumb ran over its hard wrinkles. 

He held it tight to his chest, and silently promised he would make things right with Kate. If he ever saw her again. 

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Kate took in a deep breath of the crisp morning air, reveling in the freshness that lingered after the storm had passed in the night. The scent of newly sprouted grass and moist earth filled her senses, while dew-kissed leaves sparkled under the gentle caress of the rising sun. A light breeze danced around her, carrying the promise of spring on its wings. It felt like the start of something new as if the world itself was awakening alongside her. It was the perfect day for a ride.

She met Charles in the early morning, exactly where he said he’d be. Waiting for her to begin their journey into the wild lands in hopes of finding a fresh hunt. They were a few hours into their journey now, heading north into Ambarino to hunt cow elk. Just one 200 pound elk is enough to feed the entire camp for a month. Maybe more. It was a day's ride there and back, short enough to keep the meat fresh in time. 

With a satisfied sigh, Kate exhaled the tension from her shoulders, “this is exactly what I needed Charles, thank you.”

Charles smiled warmly, guiding his horse closer to hers. "Thanks for joining me, Kate," he replied, his own gratitude evident in his tone.

With her face tilted to the sun, she savored the moment. Allowing Lorena to guide her. A silent trust shared between them, that her mare will take her where she needs to go. “You know, I always thought you preferred hunting alone. I never see anyone go with you.” Kate remarked, eyes still closed in bliss. 

Charles nodded thoughtfully. "Arthur and I have gone together a few times, but other than that, I don't seek much company from the others," he admitted, his words tinged with honesty. It was clear that while he valued his fellow gang members, solitude was his preferred companion in the wild.

“That why you’re always so quiet?” She inquired, innocently. 

Charles chuckled softly. "If the choice is folks thinking I'm dumb but not knowing for sure, and folks knowing I'm dumb because I sound like them, I think I'd rather keep them wondering," he explained with a grin. The confidence in his voice a testament to his strength. 

Kate chuckled, her eyes reflecting understanding. "I get that. Sometimes it's better to keep people guessing," she replied. Under her breath she added, “I know some of those men can be pretty dumb,” loud enough for Charles to hear.

Charles exclaimed in frustration, “tell me about it! All this death and for what? Just so we can have enough money to be able to run from what we've done?” 

Kate pondered for a moment, she still didn't know what happened all those weeks ago that drove the gang of outlaws here. It was the one piece of information they didn’t talk about around her. Perhaps Charles would share the missing pieces. “What happened to everyone to cause you to run?” Her tone colored with genuine curiosity. 

As Charles recounted the events of that fateful day, Kate couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for what they must have been through. The gang did not like to talk about Blackwater, and the consequences must have been devastating.

"It was a fucking execution," he began, his voice tinged with regret. "We thought it would a simple job robbing a ferry, carrying payroll. But there were civilians too." Kate could already imagine where this led. $5000 for his head alone, the words echoed in her mind. 

“We raised a lot of hell that day, and things got out of control. Next thing we know, the Pinkertons are on us along with the law. And everyone just starts shooting. I don't know which one of us shot first but that's all it took. There were passengers caught in the crossfire.” He shook his head with disappointment. She couldn't imagine the terror those innocent people must have felt as they found themselves caught in the chaos. 

“Dutch he,” Charles hesitated, “he killed a young girl. Just to get the law off him. And no one batted an eye.” His voice heavy with emotion. Her stomach churned at the thought of such senseless violence. “We lost three good people, and John barely made it out alive.”

He turned, facing her, "I don't kill for fun Kate; I kill when I need to," he urged, his tone pleading. It was clear that he was grappling with the moral implications of their actions, and Kate couldn't help but admire his integrity in the face of such darkness. One so hauntingly familiar. 

“Arthur came out different after Blackwater,” he added with a sigh. 

“Being an outlaw can’t be easy,” Kate added, trying to lighten the mood. She understood the hardships and turmoil that came with senseless violence. 

Charles huffed and shook his head at the memory, “easy certainly wasn't in the job description.” 

As they rode on, the weight of their conversation hung heavy between them. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were all running from something far greater than the law. A feeling she was not immune to. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Their hunt had been successful, tracking and swiftly killing a massive elk. They settled in for a fire and camped near a lake for the night. Enjoying fresh fish for dinner. In the morning they tied their game to the back of Taima, and began their journey back to camp. Kate’s spirit felt lightened in a way, the two of them spent most of the night sharing stories. And she realized she and Charles had a lot in common. A gentle reminder that she is not entirely alone in her struggles. 

The ride home went by quickly, and with the sun tickling the horizon, they arrived at the great plains of New Hanover, and eventually, the familiar overlook. 

As they rode into camp, the air was thick with urgency, Miss Grimshaw's voice cutting through the chaos. "Alright girls, everything into the wagons, now!" she barked, her tone sharp. 

Charles swiftly brought their kill to the chuck wagon, while Kate hurriedly dismounted and rushed to join the flurry of activity. The girls worked frantically, packing crates with blankets and clothing, fear etched on their faces.

"What's happening?" Kate asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Mary-Beth paused in her task, her expression grim. "Arthur and John got into trouble with the law in Valentine," she explained, her hands moving quickly. "Dutch says we need to leave, fast."

A surge of panic swept over Kate at the thought of Arthur and John in danger. "Did they get caught?" she asked, her heart pounding.

Mary-Beth shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted, sympathy in her eyes. "But we have to go."

As Kate’s mind began to spiral with the worst outcomes imaginable, a voice rose above the commotion. Speaking of the man himself. 

Dutch's voice cut through the chaos. "Charles!" he called out, his tone urgent. "Find Arthur at Dewberry Creek, we need a new hideout." Charles turned on his heel with a nod, mounting Taima and taking off back down the trail they came in on only a moment ago. 

With his words she felt a sudden sense of relief, Arthur is okay. Their last conversation weighed heavy on her heart. And she would be damned if that was the last time they spoke. 

Dutch's voice commanded attention once more. "When they give us the all clear, we move out! Let's get to work, people!" he shouted.

Mary-Beth and Tilly went back to their work and left Kate alone with her thoughts. She returned to her belongings, packing quickly. But her moment of respite was short-lived as a sickeningly familiar voice cut through the air like a bullet.

“Well hello Kate,” Micah said with disdain and arrogance. 

“I don’t have time for your bullshit Micah,” Kate retorted, her patience wearing thin. 

Micah advanced, his eyes blazing with hostility. "Funny how you show up right when trouble finds us," he taunted.

Kate scoffed, the idea completely absurd, “you idiots robbed a fucking train, did you seriously expect a welcome home party?” She shot back, her voice filled with sarcasm.

Micah's gaze narrowed. "We were set up in Valentine, someone ratted us out," he growled, his words dripping with bitterness. 

“I was just hunting with Charles,” she explained, not bothering to hide the bite in her voice, she refused to play his game. 

Micah approached with malice, his fist twitched at his side, ready to pull his pistol any moment. "Well Charles ain't here now,” he gestured around the camp, “and we think it was you," he hissed, the accusation cutting through the chaos.

Realization dawned on her that he was setting her up, but the reason why was still unclear. “And when Charles comes back he can testify to that,” she spat, turning to continue her packing. 

He closed the distance between them with predatory grace. In one swift motion, he raised his pistol. Before Kate could react, the butt of the gun connected with her temple, sending a searing pain shooting through her skull. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as she stumbled backward, the world spinning dizzily around her. Darkness threatened to engulf her. 

As she struggled to regain her bearings, Micah loomed over her, a twisted smirk playing across his lips, “we’ll be long gone by the time they come back princess.” 

With a sickening thud, Kate's head hit the ground, the impact reverberating through her skull. As the world faded into blackness, she felt herself being pulled into an abyss of darkness. The last sound echoing in her ears was the distant whinny of Lorena, a mournful cry that seemed to fade into the void. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The commotion of the camp kept her drifting in and out of consciousness for the next hour. She heard Abigail's voice call out to Kate in concern, and Micah snapped back warning her to keep her distance. She also realized her wrists had been bound along with her ankles, with Micah standing guard over her like a dog. Like she could run away in this state anyways. 

The darkness began to creep in again, and in a moment she awoke and Micah was gone. It was almost dark and she was in a different spot now, away from the center of camp and behind the tree line. That fucking bastard tried to leave me here. She thought with bitterness. 

In the midst of the chaos, a familiar voice pierced through the camp, but Kate's mind was still swimming in a fog of confusion. Wagons rattled as they hurriedly departed the overlook, leaving Kate struggling to make sense of the commotion. Summoning all her strength, she pushed herself up onto her knees, squinting through the haze.

Then, like a beacon in the night, Arthur's horse appeared, Belle’s white coat gleaming amidst the darkness. With a surge of relief, Kate locked eyes with Arthur, who rushed over to her side, his expression etched with concern.

Her consciousness flickered like a dim candle in the wind as she slowly regained awareness. The throbbing pain in her head was a harsh reminder of what had just transpired. Blinking away the haze, her vision blurry.

"Kate? Are you alright?" Arthur's voice cut through the fog, filled with concern as he took in the sight of her bound wrists and ankles. Swiftly dismounting Belle and pulling a knife from his belt to cut her free. 

Her head throbbed as she recounted what happened and she felt sick in the stomach. She couldn’t stay with them anymore, not after this. Micah was a real problem, and if what Charles told her about Blackwater is true, then Dutch is likely the same. 

“I’m okay,” she answered wearily, “Micah set me up,” a hint of fear mixed with rage creeped into her voice. Arthur helped her rise to her feet, just as the last wagons were leaving the overlook. Without missing a beat she turned to find her horse. 

Arthur was slightly taken aback, unsure if she was still upset with him from the nights before, all while trying to make sense as to why Micah had set her up. 

“I-I’m sorry Kate,” he pleaded, “I shoulda been here,” his voice was laced with remorse. His strides quickened as he closed the distance between them. Kate's heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice, but she knew she couldn't stay.

“It’s not your fault,” she reassured, “but I have to leave.” She decided in the moment, ripping the bandaid clean off. She longed to stay with Arthur and the gang, but she no longer wanted part in this trouble. “Goodbye Arthur,” she bid him a solemn farewell.

“Kate,” he called out, desperation filling the air. He wanted to stop her, to grab her and beg her to explain what happened with Micah. But the look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, she had made up her mind. So all he could do was stand and watch as she rode off. 

She clutched at Lorena’s reins, taking off in the same direction as the wagons, intending to ride past them and make her way to Rhodes, hopefully putting enough distance between them so she could get her bearings and be on the move again. Her heart raced with adrenaline and disappointment. Things could not have taken a turn for the worst. 

She used the darkness to her advantage, slipping away from the wagons as they took a path down following the railroad tracks, while Kate veered off towards the twin stacks. As she climbed altitude she watched the wagons below, specifically watching Arthur take off behind them, his mare flying through the train of carts and horses like a butterfly dancing between flowers. 

She paused for a moment, letting herself consider that perhaps she wasn't just running away out of fear, but something else as well. She thought about the girls, and Charles, who had just become a dear friend after their hunting trip. She thought about Abigail, who must be clutching little Jack close to her heart at this moment, praying John will see his family out of this alive. Her last conversation with Arthur still ate at her heart, so many words went unspoken that she wished she had said that night. 

Memories of her past came back in waves along with the painful throb of where she had been hit with Micah’s gun. Her fear, mixed with her disappointment and anger. A reminder of her own weakness. 

Yet, she decided long ago that she would never live in that kind of world again, where the weak would rather guilt the strong than become strong themselves. This world doesn’t care what the weak want. This world eats the weak. Therefore, she became strong. 

The sudden sound of gun fire dragged her from her thoughts, she rode farther up the slope looking for the source of the noise. She saw in the distance the tiny images of wagons and horses, and a group of raiders descending to their location.. 

Gripping the reins with such ferocity, Lorena reared on her hind legs as Kate spun her around and took off back down the slope. She would not let death sink its venomous teeth into the belly of another. 

Win or lose it’s always side by side

They're helping the narrative

edwin x charles - down bad

I almost forgot how nuts I am about charthur😭😭😭