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An unexpected request reveals that despite the gang’s universal appreciation of Charles’ assets, the man himself has never gotten much ‘use’ out of his chest. Ever generous, Arthur offers a helping hand.
Arthur and Charles make a bet, to their benefit and at the cost of everyone else’s beauty sleep.
Series
- Part 2 of chiddies (charles tiddies) extravaganza
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Through heavy breaths, Charles whispered, "I need you closer."
Arthur swallowed, his grip on Charles' shoulders tightening as he shifted, pressing their bodies together like he could erase the space between them. “I’m right here,” he murmured roughly, his lips brushing against Charles’ jaw.
Charles' breath hitched in his throat as he tilted his head, exposing himself for Arthur's kisses. His fingers pulled up his shirt from where it was tucked under his belt, and his chilly hands ghosted across Arthur's sides.
"Then don’t go anywhere," he murmured, voice low and wanting, his lips grazing the shell of Arthur’s ear.
Arthur’s breath caught as Charles’ hands slid up his sides, his lips catching Charles’ neck in a heated kiss. “Wasn’t planning on it,”----------------
Arthur and Charles find themselves separated from the rest of the gang in an ambush of their camp. The two make their escape through the rainstorm and make themselves veeeeery comfortable in a cabin they found in the woods.
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There was a cruel ache festering in him.
The presence of his knife, hanging loosely from his belt, felt heavy.
He hadn’t gone out that day with the intention of using it, but before realising it he had found himself in a secluded spot away from camp with bad thoughts swirling through his head. Maybe this was what he had set out to do without even realising it.
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!!please read tags for content warnings!!
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Called Out For Bad Behaviour by Kichi (sentanixiv)
Fandoms: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
12 Dec 2023
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Back alley interludes lead into the chiding reminder that all is not awful when it comes to Arthur Morgan.
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“I ain’t done nothing,” he supplies, defensive because Arthur knows exactly what Josiah means. He knows and denies it time and again. That leads them to this chiding time and again, but he ain’t so smart as to give in.
The first reply, an arched brow, challenges that as Josiah shifts his grip to tap one finger against his nose. “You’ve done nothing more than allow that steam locomotive of your mind to set upon the wrong track,” comes the correction. Same as the last time, and the dozen times before. The severity of his tone softens, a brief concern taking its place that makes Arthur feel uncomfortably seen and wanted in ways he don’t deserve. “Thinking ‘how ugly I am’ and ‘what a fool I am’ when you’ve no reason to feel either.”
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John had noticed how Arthur never seemed further than an arm’s reach away from Dutch; how Dutch's hands would linger on Arthur's shoulders as he passed behind him; the languid stares over clouds of smoke. He hadn't wanted to notice. But the thoughts nevertheless filled him with a sick curiosity, and a miserable jealousy.
So, when Dutch and Arthur gallop off, just the two of them, into the snowy mountains for a day, he can't help trying to trail them.
Series
- Part 1 of Maker's Mark
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Alone, Arthur has time to think. He knows not to get too close.
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Plays directly after Arthur had this bar fight with that huge guy and met Josiah the first time ingame.
Thought Josiah helping him getting cleaned up would be spicy, because Arthur is an angry, worried fella and Josiah is the DadTM type.Also my first fic in years so please bear with me, many thanks 🙏🏼
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He knows this is exactly what it will be; a back alley affair, with stubble grazing his lips and gloved hands reaching into places and enough darkness to shroud him, to shroud them from wandering eyes that were often unkind to people of their persuasion. Josiah thinks he shouldn’t care in his forty years on this earth fast approaching - that he’d had enough affairs to know where, when and what to do to lower the veil just enough in secrecy. But it was never simple. Maybe for a few years in Paris it had been. But Saint Denis was far from the liberal highs of French society.
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Arthur finds himself in a situation that should be complicated but it's surprisingly not. After stumbling upon Charles and Javier being intimate, he's been invited into their bed frequently.
There's a heavy feeling in Arthur, though, something he doesn't want to name, lest he complicates things.
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What if Charles never joined the Van der Linde gang? What if Arthur lived?
Bounty Hunter (sort of): Charles Smith
Wanted: Arthur Morgan::::::::::::::::
Been three years since Arthur Morgan was left for dead on the side of a mountain. Having dedicated his life to the man who left him there, it didn’t hardly seem worth fighting to get off it. Thought someone, surely someone, would come back for him. So he waited, weary fingers dug deep into the dirt to ground him, eyes on the sunset, waiting for someone to come for him, to take him down the mountain, or bury him someplace. But nobody came.
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“I was there, y’know,” he says thoughtfully. Arthur’s brow furrows, a part of him really wishing John had taken what he’d said about the enigmatic bullshit in Valentine to heart. “When Charles brought you in,” John clarifies, and Arthur frowns, because he couldn’t remember seeing John, or hearing him, at least, because he hadn’t been able to see very much of anyone. “I know something ain’t right, Arthur.”
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Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep...
Series
- Part 1 of Ghost
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Arthur and Charles have grown intimate, and decide to try out a wish of Arthur's together — a wish the man has had for years, ever since stumbling upon some erotic art.
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Maybe it is seeing the end to his journey that has got him understanding what he needs to do before he gets there. But he sees it clear now, being good and kind is not a pre-existing road, he can simply hop on. It is not, and will never be that simple. Compassion takes thought, and effort, and determination, and it is a journey that looks different for everyone. It is a path that must be forged only by the one walking it, and that is just the way of it. Life is a gamble, and with his last hand dealt he’ll be damned if he doesn’t play it with a flourish.
In which death is not the end, and redemption has yet to be decided. Spanning the events of Chapter 6 and there after.
Series
- Part 1 of Shadows of Ourselves
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At the crack of dawn, Arthur bid farewell to one life and found himself welcomed back into another in Colter. Having met his end atop that mountain, waking up here left him questioning if he'd glimpsed into the future, lost his mind, or truly lived through this before.
But amidst the uncertainty, a realization dawned upon him like a prairie sunrise: the power to alter the fate of their gang lay within his grasp. His plan? To navigate Dutch's suspicions with care, evade the grasp of sickness, and ensure the safety of each member. Then, to depart from this outlaw existence for good.
Seems simple, doesn't it?
Yet, as Arthur soon learned, the path to redemption is as treacherous as a canyon trail. Each decision is a gamble, every step fraught with peril. Easy? Far from it. Nevertheless, with resolve as firm as a seasoned cowboy's grip, he swore to carve a new destiny in the rugged terrain of the West. -
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Dutch has begun instructing Arthur in matters of sensuality. Each lesson has been more wicked than the last, tearing him down and building him up until he can't help craving more. The fourth time is particularly intense.
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Arthur never cried in front of Dutch. He always had a way of making him feel like he was being hunted when he was vulnerable. Like he was being opened up and stared at, skinned, prodded, picked apart down to his bones.
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How long has it been since he felt this kind of pleasure? The feeling of flesh on flesh, the warmth. Carnal desire lies heaviest on the lonely man's mind.
Arthur and Micah set up camp after a successful heist, when Micah pulls out some moonshine he scored. So they begin drinking. All the while, Arthur is preoccupied by his last reunion with Mary in Saint Denis. He longs to see her again, but knows he messed up with his lament about just needing to take care of a few more things. The two men start talking, one things leads to another and they end up in a drunken fist-fight which awakens more in Arthur than he would have ever thought, as memories of Mary come crashing back into his mind mixing with the man before him and confusing his body.
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'Hosea called him melancholy, Dutch called him sour, John called him an asshole.'
Sometimes the silence is too loud, and the noise is too quiet, and the darkness around us is better than the one inside.
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The Night Isn't Over and Neither Are We by knivesintheirfeet
Fandoms: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
23 Feb 2024
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Charles just wants to be treated nice. Arthur's all too willing.
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“Can’t remember the last time someone was gentle with me like this. Don’t know if anyone ever was.”
“I think I understand.” Arthur’s thumbs trace circles on hot the skin beneath them; Charles’ calloused fingertips brushing back. “It ain’t the same, course, but… Most nights I go to sleep knowing the last hands on me tried to kill me. Handshakes and dancing with Mary-Beth... It’s nice but it ain’t— It ain’t like…”
“It ain’t like this?” Charles guesses, and Arthur don’t breathe.