#thats longer than what i intended

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[jacqcrisis]

So Ronan the dragonborn cleric has his journal and a habit of drawing. Alongside his dry recounts of the day, the more spicy prose written in draconic that frustrates his nosey companions, and simplistic stick figure diagrams of action he can't draw properly, are more detailed sketches. These sketches are generally reserved for animals or plants, especially flowers, he happens across and enjoys, jotted down to the best of memory alongside the words written about the days events.

But between those, every now and then, are drawings of people, most notably people he finds important in some way. These sketches aren't hyper realistic or artful as his capabilities are amateur at best, but they are detailed and good enough you would recognize who they were depicting. He's not trying to become a master of the art, but just good enough that he can have a visual reminder of someone if they should leave him or pass away.

Sometime during Act 2, after the conversation with the mirror about Astarion not remembering what he looks like but before he confesses to feeling something more, Ronan notices his journal is missing. Again. It happens often enough that he's not worried, but he would like it back so he does the rounds around camp to see which sticky-fingered companion took it tonight.

After checking with nearly everyone save Wyll, Ronan finds Astarion a little ways away from everyone, sat near a torch and hunched over conspicuously. Upon silently walking up to him, standing just behind him, Ronan waits just a few moments until his presence is felt. Predictably, Astarion jumps to his feet, hand going for a dagger with the journal clutched to his chest as he whips around to face his would be assailant.

Of course, it's just Ronan and Astarion sighs in a melodramatic relief, commenting that they should perhaps bell the dragonborn when he isn't in his horrendously loud armor. Ronan grunts, holding out a hand expectantly and what follows is a rather typical back and forth as Astarion teasingly mentions all the 'dirty little secrets' he's supposedly gleaned from the journal while Ronan steadfastly asks for the damn thing back as he'd like to make an entry and get to sleep. But something's off, as usually after a minute or two the leather bound book is halfway into Ronan's hand, being pulled away a time or two, yet Astarion is keeping it close to himself, as if reluctant to give it back.

Ronan notices, interrupts Astarion in midst of being complained at over his assessment of the rogue's battle performance to ask if everything is alright. For a moment, Astarion says yes, of course, well as good as he can be starving and exhausted in the middle of this godforsaken place but-

And he stops, chewing on his lip, troubled as he opens the journal again to flip to the page he'd had his thumb wormed into this whole time. He touches his face and Ronan can feel what's coming before Astarion opens his mouth to ask if the person on the page is him. He doesn't even need to see the sketch Astarion shows him; there's a lot of the elf drawn in that journal.

Ronan nods and then immediately mutters something akin to an apology that his artistic talent is lacking, receiving a joke about how Astarion certainly wouldn't hang anything he's drawn by his bedroll that trails off. Then he's silent for a moment, taking the journal back to stare down at the page before he supposes it's the best he'll get. It's a want for a way to help that strikes Ronan as he watches, struggling with what to say and wishing he had some way to alleviate that grief, to show him-

But there is a way to show him, isn't there?

It takes some convincing and a promise to not probe into Astarion's thoughts, but eventually a reluctant vampire is standing illuminated in a holy daylight summoned eagerly for just the occasion. He's instructed to close his eyes as Ronan crouches down to get the best view he can and takes Astarion's hand to press his palm to a scaley temple. The connection is immediate, Astarion's sight filled with a clear picture of himself, of a face he hasn't seen in centuries mirrored perfectly through Ronan's steady and concentrated gaze.

He's given as much time as he needs, Ronan seemingly happy to stare at him as he takes it all in. There's something filtering through the cleric's ironclad concentration, made only more apparent at every observation and joke Astarion makes while refamiliarizing himself with himself. Words and phrases pop into mind, squashed before they complete like the sound of them being thrust underwater to muffle and become incoherent.

Comments about his features, about his voice, about the hand still curled against Ronan's temple, about how close they are. Noachi, that draconic nickname Ronan's given him that he still has no idea the meaning of, thought less like a word and more like a fond prayer floating through as Ronan chuckles at some quip Astarion makes about not remembering his chin being like that. But there's another thing that Ronan can't seem to stop coloring his perception and his thoughts.

It's not a word or a phrase or even a picture. Merely a feeling, a warmth, deep and radiating, growing stronger and stronger the longer Ronan is staring at Astarion. So much so, it colors the picture he's presenting as a glow emanates around Astarion that has nothing to do with the magical daylight or the nearby torch or anything about himself, as if that warmth Ronan is feeling is warping his very sight.

And it's a feeling that Astarion recognizes, has tried not to recognize for a little while now, ignoring and writing it off and burying it at every turn. A feeling that answers back within him and that shakes him. Frightens him enough, he takes his hand away, opens his eyes to break the connection.

Astarion thanks him, kind of, inbetween commenting that he hopes Ronan is happy he's probably satisfied his need to stare at Astarion for the evening before actually saying something that amounts to gratitude. It gets him another chuckle, and Ronan bows his head with a little smile, telling him 'anytime, noachi' before leaving Astarion alone. The daylight fades away to nothing and Astarion is left by the torch, watching Ronan take his journal to the rest of the rest of camp as he touches his face, lost in thought.

[houndfaker]

i finished sonic primelast night. IM NORMALLLL!!!!!

[serendipitous-mage]

“you’re telling me you’ve lived on god’s green earth for how long and you don’t know what books are??” the man laughed as though it was the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard of. “you’re pulling my leg, isn’t no way you’ve never seen a book. kids unfortunately nowadays i could see, but you?”

“well,” the being paused for a moment, recalling their conversation up until that point. “i apologize, i neglected to mention, while i am around the equivalence of your age in human years, i am afraid i have not been on uh—how did you phrase it? ‘god’s green earth’?—for very long. most of my time here has been spent assessing the technological and travel advancements, and while i have heard of books and become familiar with several written languages of the planet, i have not been privileged to see many paper based products myself, books included.”

as the odd but interesting fellow’s sentence continued on, the man’s face began to transition from disbelief into awe. “you . . . you mean, you’re not from earth?” he managed. “you’re an alien?”

“that is the phrase that humans use for it, yes.” the other agreed.

they looked human, in fact up until that point the man had had no reason he would ever have thought otherwise. they appeared male and, as they’d said, perhaps a big younger than himself. the only thing he’d thought of when they had approached him at the bar and initiated conversation was perhaps they’d grown up in a rich household and didn’t quite match with the social standards of regular-waged people, but an alien?

the man glanced around the rest of the bar, but the tender was at the other end with another patron and no one else appeared to have heard the fellow’s words. “is that, i mean, do people know? we can be . . . not the friendliest sort,”

“oh of that i have seen, yes.” the fellow acknowledged, in something between a solemn and impressed tone. they nodded back toward the door, where a rainbow striped flag was waving over the entryway. “but this town seems accepting to the ‘outsiders’ of your species, and i had a feeling that you were someone trustworthy.” they glanced down at his patch covered biker jacket and smiled. “i have been wanting to use that expression.”

the man blinked at them, not following. “huh?”

“ ‘i had a feeling’, there are so many interesting terms of speech that you all have come up with.”

“oh . . . heh,” he raised his eyebrows and nodded. “i suppose you’re right,” the man looked the apparent alien up and down. “do you . . . want to see the library? it’s around the corner, it’s filled end to end with all sorts of books. you can look at ‘em all you want.”

the fellow lit up. “truly? i have seen mentionings of libraries but did not want to impose on one if it were culturally inappropriate-”

“oh pf, you kidding?” the man downed the last of his drink and stuck the bill underneath the glass, waving to the bartender as he slid off his seat. “they’ll love you over there. not enough people in libraries anymore, the folks who work there love books and love to help other people love ‘em.” he said, stepping outside and squinting a little at the brightness before moseying off.

“i am truly eager to see such a place, thank you . . .”

“justin.” he supplied.

“thank you most wholeheartedly, justin.” the fellow beamed at him. “you are very kind.”

“nah, just uh, neighborly . . .” he scrunched up his face a little at the word, not sure it fit. they could be from a neighboring galaxy, he supposed? “do you uh, have a name?”

“i do not, but i am happy with anything if you would like to have something to refer to me by.”

“ah, geez,” he looked up at the approaching library. “i don’t want that kind of responsibility haha, but maybe you’ll find a name in here you like . . ?”

“an adept solution.” the being agreed. they were quiet for a moment. “i like this endeavor, i shall witness books in their full form and can be alert to an interesting term for myself in the process.” they paused at the front steps. “will you be joining me, justin? i do not want you to feel obligated, but i would enjoy your company further if there is nothing needing your attention elsewhere at the moment.”

justin thought for a second. “nah, nothin’ i have to do today. i’ve been wanting to check if they have a new series anyway, just haven’t gotten to it.”

the fellow smiled and stepped back with a little motion allowing justin to enter first. as he went in, he called back over his shoulder. “hey you know what cows are right? have you seen a real live cow? cats? what about . . .”

- - - - -

“hey . . . i’m here,” justin whispered softly, cradling the alien’s head in his lap. they looked dazed, but he knew it was much worse than that. somewhere he was vaguely aware of distant sirens.

“i . . . am sorry . . . justin,” they managed. the underlying chime to their voice that was always just present was now much more audible, almost overpowering their words.

“what? don’t be, don’t be-” he said firmly, feeling his face growing hot as he tried to hold back tears. “it’s not you’re fault, we’re cunts. we’re absolute bastards who can’t enjoy life and living and allowing others to do the same we can’t even just be decent to one another let alone, i, i’m so sorry i shouldn’t have kept you here-”

“you . . . did keep me,” they admitted. “all of you, did . . . this planet is so beautiful, its people are too . . . in so many ways . . . and you’ve shown me so much of it. so much to taste, to see, i can never, thank you enough . . .”

“but you’re dying . . .” he choked out. 

they smiled faintly, letting their eyes close. “perhaps . . . but i have lived. my hope is . . . you can do the same . . . be well . . . my most precious friend . . .”

[kraptos]

finally finished the first draft for ch 11!! look at that word count 👀

[pumaskulls]

struggling to like anything I sketch tonight, so instead of AF stuff I returned to an old sketch of Cloudy's brother to finish designing him! now if only I could remember what the fuck I wanna name him

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x afab!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), afab reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous tic.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slug over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

��Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[grugruel]

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

[infernalantics]

qifrey witch hat atelier is really interesting bc i feel like with the type of character archetype he is (ie the mentor/teacher type who seemingly isn’t like most other adults who accept some kind of status quo) his personality traits are … fascinating. like granted there’s some stuff we don’t know that much about so a lot of this is speculation and me kind of spewing out my thoughts…!

but anyways somethign thats so fascinating to me about the small little glimpses of qifrey we get as a child is very different to the present day one we see now. which i don’t really know how else to describe other than putting these two side by side

he feels a lot more..? expressive now. which imo is a combination of a lot of things. young qifrey genuinely makes sense to be someone who’s quite uh.. confused & afraid. a young kid not really knowing his past but only knowing what took it away from him and a feeling of hard-focused anger towards them.. while at the same time having all of that taken away from him means he kinda doesn’t know who he was…? a emptiness from something they took out of him that he can’t really even place what’s missing..

which is realllyyy evident in this panel + these lines. i think that qifrey as a young kid being obsessive about his whole past was probably not super expressive or talkative and prob didn’t have that many friends aside from olruggio. being a kinda weird case of a witch learning magic and all…

(hm. sound familiar? i mean like. coco was in a horrible situation/circumstance regarding forbidden magic that caused her mom to turn to crystals and instead of having her memories wiped qifrey took her in and taught her magic. while qifrey was in a horrible situation regarding forbidden magic that took away his past, left him without his eye, but instead of having his memories wiped beldarut took him in and taught him magic. but that’s beside my point. for now)

but his search kind of abruptly gets cut off after going to the tower + learning it was a new type of magic. and he can’t tell anyone about this so i think he basically just sits with it for a while, his leads fizzle out for a while and in that time he starts the atelier and gets some apprentices and within that time is a lot happier and more content .

n then coco appears, he gets another lead, the grudge bubbles back up, yada yada youve read the manga. (probably)but all of that to say i think such a lovely part of his character is his ANGER!

i think this scene can be interpreted a lot of different ways since we kinda just don’t have the resolution to it yet and i think it may uh. be a minute until we do… but qifrey does absolutely care very much for the people around him. that much is evident. and i don’t think his anger is always in spite of him caring, i think it also works in tandem with it.

qifrey wants to keep being a teacher, he wants to be fulfilled and he wants a future. but essentially he’s been put on a time limit. (or at least he sees it that way) this happy present he has is temporary and slipping through his fingers so he’s working really desperately to settle everything with the brimhats to try and keep his future.. they took away his past, he didn’t know who he was or what he came from, and his future is being lost too… the combination of knowing his secret could super get him in BIG MASSIVE TROUBLE + that he seems pretty damn insistent on dealing with this on his own… makes his decision to wipe olruggios memories in ch40 REALLY COMPELLING!!! the line “from the pursuit of hope, comes the cost which is despair itself” really ties the whole scene together for me…

and even aside from his own backstory i think he has an anger to him that comes from his care for the girls + olruggio exactly too. you can see this in the way he immediately fuckign snaps when coco gets hurt

but god this is wayyy longer than intended but all of this to say. qifrey has a tendency when something isn’t fair, it’s hard for him to just sit by and let it go. it’s why i think he’s a rlly good mentor figure for the themes of witch hat atelier. his anger resonates with the viewer, because it makes you think: fuck, man, isn’t it unfair he just got his past ripped away from him? isn’t it unfair that coco just got hurt in a battle she shouldn’t have to be fighting? isn’t it unfair that the law tells you that there’s so much you can’t do about all of it, too?

where i think qifrey is going, or where i hope he his, is letting himself truly realize that he doesn’t have to feel all of this alone.

which i think he knows that, logically, but again he’s committed to dealing with things on his own and is kind of a hypocrite lol. which is something he kind of just literally says here in the fact he’s extremely reckless with his own well-being (also likely due to the fact he sees his future as slipping away from him too and well. probably illness in his brain) but tells coco not to do what he does…. god bless❤️

because also i mean.. coco understands. she might understand better than most! to have your whole world changed and not understand why everything has to be unfair! to be wronged by forbidden magic but still have to sit with the hurt of knowing it could be used to help so many people! (notably coco’s mom… qifrey himself…)

which she literally says herself!!!

and olruggio, who keeps reaching out, who wants to be someone he can rely on and trust.. and who probably helped him a lot in his search, too, even if he thought it might be bad for him, he cared about him..! in a lot of his most reckless moments, olruggio is there to help him (eg “whats your top priority right now?!”) and i think that was probably true for a younger version of them, too.

and overall for coco… magic is hope. magic is seeing a problem and finding a solution. magic is wanting to help people. magic is so many beautiful things bundled into one.

qifrey DOES have a future. because as long as coco is around, she will find a solution and she will find hope in the darkest of moments. because as long as olruggio is around there will be someone who cares about him and will try to reach out. because magic is hope, right?

isn’t all of that so much of what qifrey taught her himself?

because i do think qifrey still has hope. i mean.. so much of his conflict COMES from having hope and chasing it and the agonizing feeling of that. (again, “from the pursuit of hope comes the cost that is despair itself”) but even if it hurts to live in a world that is unfair and feeling like you’re powerless, even if it is a hard and difficult battle to hold onto that hope despite everything, it’s always worth it. even a tiny little glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel is enough to run towards it.

i think that in the end what qifrey has left to do is let other people use that hope towards him.

(….although it might be a bit of a rocky road getting there AHAHAH i don’t know how many more epic qifrey moments like ch40 we’re getting….)

anyways this got really long i didn’t expect this to turn into a whole rant abt qifreys character HAHA but thank u if anyone reads this witch hat fandom is pretty small so i might actually tag all of this. i would love more witch hat mutuals ehe.. ❤️ have a good one

[jwonsite]

Just imagine Jungwon edging you for hours out of jealousy because one of his members were flirting with you. Like he’d ram you up for hours, not allowing you to cum until you’re begging him, sobbing your eyes out (which I’m doing rn I’m reading too much smut😭)

this was way longer than i intended for it to be LMAOOO but yeah also sorry this took so long PLS i've been so busy

jungwon x fem!reader

smut! mdni!

oh my gosh he would be so😭😭 we all know that won is such a jealous boy like, he can’t even stand when we look at other idols or have pictures of them in our phones, so i just KNOW if one of the members was flirting w you he would not be able to control himself.

like you were just hanging out with him at the dorms, the boys were all playing video games together or something when jake asked if you want to play for a round. you declined, much rather preferring to stay cuddled up onto your boyfriend, watching as he scrolled on his phone. jake insisted, heeseung joining in, saying how he wants to play with you so he could beat you. you didn’t really know how to play the game, asking jake which buttons did what. jake moved closer to you, pointing to the buttons on the controller as you sat shoulder to shoulder, even taking it as far as putting his hand over yours to help you when the game started. you could feel won’s gaze on you; well not really on you more so on his bandmate that was currently holding your hands on the controller, his face so close to yours that they were almost touching, and that’s when jungwon snapped. he got up from the chair on the side of the room walking over to you and jake, your heads both snapping up to look at him when you hear his loud sigh as he got up.

“alright that’s enough,” he would say, looking at you both with a stern look, “y/n let’s go,” he says as he grabs your arm, pulling you up from the couch, your hand dropping the controller onto the couch as your boyfriend pulled you away and into his room. you could feel the stares of all the boys on you both as you walked away, the room completely silent other than the sound of the video game still running on the tv screen. jungwon pulled you into his room, closing the door and pushing you up against it before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you messily as his hands groped your ass. your eyes widened at the sudden kiss, but you soon wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you rolled your crotch into his, trying to feel some friction where you needed it most. his hands moved to your waist, grabbing you to stop your movements.

“you think you get to pull a little stunt like that and still get to be all needy for me? thats not the way it works baby, you’re gonna take whatever i give you, okay?” he said while kissing down your neck. you whined, half in protest and half in pleasure but you knew he was going to do whatever he wanted no matter what you said. he moved you both to his bed, kissing down your body before pulling your pants and underwear off in one swift movement. you moaned as he kissed your thighs, wanting him to move to your pussy.

“shh baby, we wouldn’t want any of the boys to hear your pretty moans would we? then again you might like that, knowing they’re hearing how good i’m making you feel in here, knowing that they’re wishing it was them in here between your legs instead of me,” he says before kitty licking your cunt. you put a hand over your mouth trying to muffle your moans, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. he began sucking and licking your clit suddenly, sticking his tongue inside of you every now and then. the sounds that were coming from his mouth on your pussy were so lewd, the squelching and sucking sounds resonating in his bedroom. your hand moved to tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly as he continued his ministrations in between your legs.

“fuck wonnie im so close,” you moaned out, pulling on his hair harshly causing him to moan into your pussy, sending you closer to the edge, that was until he abruptly pulled away from you causing you to whine in frustration

“won please, i want to cum,” you cried out as he edged you for the 6th time that night, tears streaming down your face

“aww my pretty girl wants to cum? do you deserve it after letting jake flirt with you? letting him put his hands all over you?”

“yes please wonnie, please,” you cried out again, pushing his head back down to your dripping cunt

he began eating you out again, his grip on your thighs sure to leave a mark. you were finally close again, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone.

“you were such a good girl for me today baby, come on cum all over my tongue, cum for me baby,” he says sticking two fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. you rode out your long awaited orgasm, and then watched as your boyfriend licked up all your juices from your pussy and his fingers, coming up to kiss you after. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it drove you insane. he laid down next to you, and you moved to lay on his chest, his arm wrapping around your figure

“you know i wasn’t flirting with him, right won,” you said with a slight pout, looking up at him with doe eyes

“i know my love, just couldn’t stand to see him all over you like that. you’re mine,” he said, bringing a hand up to caress your face before capturing your lips in a kiss

“all yours baby” you said, smiling into the kiss before laying back down onto his chest and letting sleep take over you

[jennrypan]

..librarian x Jason Todd 👀

I'm so right. Walk with me. (First meeting!)

Imagine..being in an old library where you take care of so many books and keep trying to get people to come in, enjoy the literature but it's Gotham, everyone's far too focused on staying clear of the various villains to try and stop by to read an old book.

You contemplate closing it..maybe find a job in..who knows, a bank teller?

That idea just puts a different expression on your face and you huff quietly to yourself..you were so patient about your books and the history of this library but it was old..and no one seemed to care for libraries anymore, the building had graffiti all over the outside of it- which you tried to clean as best as you could..only for it to be dirtied once more and the windows were always getting broken by various hoodlums and one stray weapon at one point..fortunately the villains never seemed interested in some run down library so that was never an issue, but that didn't mean anyone came inside.

Until..a large figure came hurtling in through your windows..creating a huge mess of glass and wood before it landed on the floor with a thud and an annoyed grunt, you were so close to questioning the figure..a bat half way into your grasp before you noticed the bright red helmet.

"God dammit..Ivys not playin' fair."

His voice was almost..robotic? Deeper than any humans had any right to be, and you could only watch as Redhood, the Redhood stood in your library and simply dusted himself off, muttering to himself and slowly..you stepped back- you had no real negative opinion about the man but he wasn't someone you dreamed of meeting..no famous person in Gotham was anyone you wanted to meet in all honesty..they bought trouble.

Redhood tapped something on his helmet, muttering something under his breath- you briefly caught the words 'Nightwing' and 'Don't you fucking laugh' but you didn't intend to lean closer to figure out the full extent of that conversation, mostly focused on blending into the shadows of the dimly lit library..and worrying about how the Hell you're gonna fix your window this time..the window area was practically gone now cuz the guy was huge! So it might as well be a hole and you can't run a business with a hole! Everyone already thinks you're closing-

"Oh shit, I didn't know anyone was still in here."

The sudden statement caused you to near jump in the air..clutching your bat to your chest as you stared at the man who's head had turned to you..the bright white eyes of his helmet near gleaming and you wished you could see his expression to see what he was thinking.

His head tilted ever so slightly and when he did..thats when you realized you were simply staring at him unblinking like an idiot.

"Uhm-! Are you gonna pay for the window?"

Those were the first words that left your lips with your voice raising in pitch..and you immediately cringed a little, letting out a nervous cough.

There was a beat of silence before a low snort came from Redhood, his head turning towards the man sized hole he had created.

"Oh, sure."

He replied, and you were left staring at him again..blinking like an owl.

"..Sure?"

You repeated, watching as the man adjusted his jacket..black combat boots crunching over the glass shards that littered the ground, taping his helmet again..no longer paying you any mind at the moment.

"Yeah yeah..I hear ya, I'm on my way- got thrown into some.."

Redhood muttered, you could practically hear him rolling his eyes before his head tilted back..he was looking over at the shelves of books.

"Library?..huh."

You squinted a little at that. This was clearly a library! It may be run down and spooky but it had great books!

"Does that helmet make it hard to see?"

You grumbled under your breath, immediately tensing when the white eyes became trained on you..your mouth snapping shut as you gave him a nervous, thin lipped grin.

"Funny..anyways..I'll pay for the window."

Redhood reiterated, and all you could do is slowly nod and hum in acknowledgement- giving him a small thumbs up.

"Oh! Thanks? I mean you did..break it with your body, but thanks! Thats.."

There was another little chuckle from him before he climbed back through the hall not even letting you finish stumbling over your words! You clicked your tongue a little as you slowly set down your bed..walking towards the broom and dustpan to clean up the mess he left.

He's definitely not gonna pay you back..he's got other shit to be doing anyways.

Guess you got some saving to do.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi

Can we have some prompts for what it's like to hug the tadc cast?

What it's like hugging the TADC cast!

bro i want a patty melt so mf bad ive literally never had one but it looks so yummy idc if its just a burger on texas toast i wanna eat that!!!!!!!!! short post btw!! (i say, as i make it longer than first intended)

CAINES:

very small and holdable. depending on the size difference you can just carry him around like its no big deal... feels just like holding a person since his body is human shaped... might have to move your head since his teeths are very large.... solid 9/10 imo

POMNI:

similar to caine thanks to her shape but i think she would be very squishy. she looks like she would be squishy, dont you think? i think its because of her design and her at the beginning trying to take off her headset shows shes kinda squishy n soft... but maybe thats just the digital worlds physics and everyone is like that... she looks like she would squeak if you squeezed her... 8/10 she gets one point off because sometimes the squeezing can be annoying but she cant help it

RAGATHA:

very soft and plush, said several times that i see her as a literal doll so she feels like one of those plush dolls. shes warm, i think... like sure shes a doll but she looks like she would radiate warmth, cant explain why.. like caine and pomni have normal body heats but ragatha is just a touch warmer.. 10/10, would love to cuddle with her and nap

JAX:

not squishy!! but not... hard... like he has a little give if that makes sense. like, normal average skinny person squish, i think. normal body temperature. oddly smooth which can be a little weird since hes a bunny, so you would expect fur... but no hes just smooth. but not smooth like a shaved person, smooth like a weird rubber. weird. 7/10 imagine it gets hot one day and he just. gets sticky. one time we accidentally left my dogs rubber ball out in the heat outside and it got sticky. sticky jax. sticky jax gets a 4/10

KINGER:

very. hard. now we're getting into the characters who arent that huggable, which makes me so sad because i love kinger sm. he cant really hug back. like sure he can hold you in his hands but thats a little different than being able to wrap his arms around you... hes hard, too, being a chess piece... not very warm.. however his robe does a bit to make him softer and a little warmer so its not too totally terrible as long as youre not like. CLINGING onto him... kinger i love you but youre getting a 6/10

ZOOBLE:

see where kinger has some saving grace with his robe, zooble is just. naked. plus i think they would feel like plastic, with the main body being like. solid hard plastic. their limbs are obviously also plastic. its like holding a giant child's toy... very cold, too, the only heat zooble has is the heat that comes from your own body... 3/10 im sorry zooble

GANGLE:

no body heat, but like at least its not hard plastic... but theres hardly anything there... can hold you back but you cant really feel it, like ghost touches pretty much... since gangle is just ribbons, what more did we expect? 4/10, extra point simply because gangle hugs arent as unpleasant as zoobles

[ariseur]

Can I request dmc guys jealousy headcanons, if thats something youd be interested in writing? 👀

dmc guys jealousy hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

eidjdfjjeieddejeje why do headcanons take me sm longer to do

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, kinda spoilers for dmc5 in nero’s hcs (?), mentions of possessiveness and obv jealousy, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ for DANTE, i feel like he trusts you deeply and wouldn’t get jealous as easily as maybe, say— vergil?

❥ he’s pretty confident in your relationship but on the off chance he does get jealous, he’ll let it play out for awhile as he watches from afar.

❥ he’ll play it off as a joke, but if the person starts getting a little too touchy, he’ll ‘casually’ slide in with an arm around your waist and a kiss on your jaw, looking into the person’s eyes while you giggle at the sudden affection.

❥ dante would lowkey try to one-up them on the down low. oh, they buy you a drink? dante’s buying you ten. they compliment your hair? dante’s in your ear telling you how gorgeous you look today.

❥ and it’s not like he feels like he needs to give you false compliments just to one-up the other person, he just finds it amusing the way their jaw clenches when they see dante muttering in your ear while his eyes lock on them, a shit eating grin glued to his face because he knows what he’s doing.

❥ if you leave for whatever reason, dante might ‘accidentally’ make the person uncomfortable if they don’t get the hint already just by his tone. he’ll make passive aggressive comments if they’ve been getting too touchy, maybe nudge them a little too hard in the ribs or grip their shoulder a bit too tight at a ‘really funny joke’.

❥ dante does trust you though, it’s only when the person starts to get physical is when it becomes more of a problem. his energy speaks volumes, so you can tell if he has underlying intentions just from his smile.

❥ he’ll try to act friendly, albeit still a little petty, even if you know them personally. an arm slung across your shoulder or your waist along with scattered kisses across your face and shoulder is his main go-to. dante’s main goal is either for them to get the hint or for your mind to be occupied on him only.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ now VERGIL.. vergil is much more intimidating with his reactions. once he spots someone chatting it up with you and getting a little too close, he’s there in an instant.

❥ the only difference between him and dante’s reaction is that fact that vergil silently brews, eyes burning holes through the person as he watches quietly. he’ll take a seat next to you as his eyes never leave them, even once you greet him when he sits with you— just his piercing gaze staring them down.

❥ he swears that he doesn’t get jealous, that’s he’s better than whatever assumption you’re implying, oh my my! how dare you assume such things about this son of sparda?

❥ but alas, vergil gets hella jealous.

❥ it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he’s just very possessive over you. and it’s not like he’ll keep you locked away for him and him only, either. it’s simply a matter that involves his own ego and i don’t know if it’s some demon thing, but he just craves your scent. that, or his scent on you. just something that tells people that you’re his and he’s yours.

❥ if the person doesn’t take the hint after the abundance in glares that vergil throws at them, he’ll start making remarks. nothing too serious, just initiating some sort of confrontation if he sees that you’re uncomfortable. if you don’t seem annoyed or bothered by it, vergil will second-guess it and leave you to your own devices, trusting that you’ll handle it at some point.

❥ i doubt anybody would try vergil, so i wouldn’t even consider that a possibility. he’s a devil hunter that’s over six feet tall with a fit body and yamato sheathed in his back pocket, nobody in their right mind would fuck with him.

❥ vergil obviously knows to be logical, though. he doesn’t let his emotions get the better of him during this time and hopes that you’ll know how to handle it yourself. although, he definitely wouldn’t mind scaring the person off a little more.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓝ERO — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ i honestly doubt that this man can keep his mouth shut. NERO just struggles with not making a stupid smartass remark every second.

❥ nero definitely has some insecurities that he buries, often only coming out in shorts bursts of when he can’t take it anymore. these jabs and quips that he makes are his form of concealing the fact that he’s insecure about himself and his abilities, especially if this is during or post-to-finding-out-who-his-father-is.

❥ i wouldn’t say he’s aggressive, but his mouth would def get him into big trouble. if he saw that you looked uncomfortable with the person or they started getting too touchy with you, he literally teleports next to you and greets you with a chaste cheek kiss. if you seemed okay with it, though, he’d try his best to brush it off but still glance at you every once in awhile (and by that i mean literally every minute) just to check on you.

❥ if he does decide to sit with you and just listen in on the conversation, he’ll basically just be hovering over you awkwardly. there are two ways this’ll go, either nero’s going to act all nonchalant like he doesn’t care even though he has a keen eye on whoever’s flirting with you (like father like son)— or he’s going to be really clingy with you.

❥ not really physically clingy, but more so clingy in the way where he’ll follow you around like a dog with heart eyes the whole time. even after you’ve stopped talking to the person.

❥ (he’s just like that, guys.)

❥ i think he gets a tiny bit butthurt afterwards though. i mean, he’s been called dead weight and basically has been looked down upon by both his father and his uncle, essentially being seen almost as a pest during the duration of dmc5.

❥ help this boy please, he def needs it

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥 — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ im sorry but i cannot see V as a jealous person

❥ i think v is a very calm natured guy, and i think he has a lot of faith in you. he trusts that you’ll be able to make the right choice in the end, and he knows that you wouldn’t just up and cheat on him or leave him out of the blue. he knows you know better and so he leaves you be.

❥ though.. it doesn’t hurt to watch from afar, does it?

❥ v is also an observer, he watches the interactions between you two as he studies both of your body languages. it’s not like he thinks you’ll do anything, it’s just his nature.

❥ griffon would definitely tease him about looking at you so much, squawking out nonsense as he calls v whipped for you.

❥ if he sees that you’re uncomfortable or you want to get out of the conversation— it can go a few different ways.

❥ one of the scenarios, for instance, would consist of him closing his book as he gets up and he walks over to the two of you. he’d greet you sweetly, side-eyeing the person in front of you as he kisses your hand. maybe he’d take a seat next to you just to let the person know that he’s watching. and if that didn’t work, griffon would certainly scare them off just by his yapping.

“shit, a bow tie? really? was your torso too wide for a tie or what?”

❥ overall, v isn’t a jealous person in general. however, he does love you enough to help you when you’re in need of a knight in shining armor. even if that knight is a gothic poet with an annoying bird and a panther at his side.

[ghostsprettymama]

Task force 141's secretary.

Simon " Ghost " Riley - intended for black chubby readers

Unprotected, raw, meat to meat, pussy eating, daddy kink praising, degrading, breeding kink

You were the new secretary, you handled files on missions, peoples files, Scheduled meetings. Whatever, you just did it.

And god you were so good at your job. Sittin pretty, those pretty tits lookin so good in every bit of clothing, that fat ass just lookin good in every pair of pants, skirts, anything.

A hum escaped your lips as you typed away, the task force was away on a mission. As always of course. On yout wrist was a braclet from roach, it was like a welcoming gift yet a friendship token in a way.

You knew everyone, and everyone knew you. Except for him. Few weeks later, when everyone came in after a needlessly long mission. They were tired,angry or even upset, not even Roach spoke to you.

But that didnt bother you, there you saw him. your eyes wandered to his beautiful brown eyes, they looked so beautiful to you. He caught you staring, didnt mind it though.. he was talking to Captain John Price. His back was to you. To price, Ghost was looking at him, but in reality hes staring into your eyes figuring you out.

You tilted your head smiling. A soft wave came from you. you put those pretty nails on display too. Shit John for some reason paid for it, he was a wonderful man. When John left, you waved ghost over. He was curious. So curious if you were just like the other secretarys before you.

"Whats your deal?" He asked. Being completely straightforward "Whats your name?" You replied with a question. "I asked you first.." he added on "two is bigger than one, seconds usually the best.. sooo" you said, tilting your head. "Gho- "no, your name " you interupted.

He sighed. You were a presistent one, he could tell already. "Simon." He said, his eyes rolling like the sassy bitch he was "Now I answered yours, answer mine." He demanded, his hands on the counter top as he looked down at you. You typed away laughing softly. You smiled tilting your head softly. "Im just a secretary.. Y/n L/n." You said.

"I know who you are... your friend doesnt shut up about ya. I mean why were you staring." He replied, in response you raised your eyebrows "Thats it? I just think your eyes are beautiful, like a forest during autumn... Something cold and relaxing." You said, your eyes still locked with his. that kind smile never leaving.

He was caught off guard.. the man was so used to women just being extremely vulgar to him, but you..you were a sweetheart.

For months you talked to him longer and longer. One by one he got closer with you to the point... you were now in dorm on base doing his face paint. Ghosts fingers danced between your braids.. you sat on his lap. his other hand rested on your ass holding you up, you were so close he could just kiss those pretty lips.

His eyes stared at them as his thoughts were betraying him. What would yout lips look like taking him in? Or gasping so softly as he filled your cunt??? He needed to know this scientific information.. but what he really cared about is what they felt like.

His thumb brushed against your lips as he made a soft "mmh" in delight at how soft your lips were. "Simon? What was that about..?" You chuckled holding his face. Yes, he trusted you to the point you could hold his face, shit. even come near it.

He leaned into your touch like a cat, closing his eyes softly. Simon was like this at times, with him, you werent always gonna get an answer. You repeated his action but on his hands they felt rough. He had rough, big hands.. you gave his free hand a massage with your free one. He liked it which you assumed since he didnt open his eyes yet.

When you finished and moved your hand, his hands returned to your ass. you bit your lips getting flustered " what is it Ms Y/n? Mmh..?" He sounded sleepy, he was. He fell asleep briefly when you held his face. His raspy sleepy voice..that...thatll do it for you.

You burried your head into his neck as you felt your own wetness. Ghost felt it too after all your on his lap "you like that..? Me talkin to you like this...?' He whispered in your ear.. teasing you.

"Simon dont tease.." you replied. Your hands on his chest feeling his muscles, your hands traveled to his abs which made you squeak. You didnt know he was gonna be built like this..

Simon listened to your wish and flipped you over over. In the mating press position, instictively your legs gripped him in place. He grunted slightly at the strength of your grip, he could break it if he wanted, but he didnt want to.

"I want you. Youre s' pretty.. so smart... i just want you so bad." You admitted to him, he removes the baclava, his pretty blonde eyelashes, beautiful short blonde hair "dont start complainin pretty." He said kissing you so lovingly.

He was soon exploring your naked body, biting and sucking, when he found that beautiful fat cunt of yours he went to absolute town. His eyes, alike a predator staring at his prey as he ate your pretty pussy out. When you gripped his hair he moaned.

Such vibrations made you shove his head in as if it could be inside any deeper, for hours he teased your clit, eating you like his last fucking meal. Every so often you heard his pussy drunk cracking voice "mine.. only mine.. this pussy 's all mine.." he gripped your thighs making sure you knew.

"Ouu fuck im gonnna cum again daddy-"when you said that your mouth CLASPED shut, you could see simons sick and twisted grin. "Call me that again.." he said, and of course you did and his eyes closed in delight. You rode his face but he didnt need help. he held you still as he went back to his job forcing your legs behind your head.

Every moan you silenced he smacked your ass making you moan so loud "daddydaddydaddydaddy ohfuckimgonnancumucantholdit" you moaned out "cum in my mouth baby. Reward me. I deserve it princess dont i?" He said and you nodded squirting in his mouth as your body twitched.

You thought that was the end of it, nah. You heard a belt unbuckling. Pants unbuttoning, and then dropping, you tried to look but he shoved your head back down. "Want s' more baby? Do you think you could be good n take me? Like a good girl right?" He coo'd looking at you.

"Yes sir..." you replied, he gently smacked you "atta girl!" He smacked your cunt making you flinch a little . His tip aligned with your entrace, teasingly slow.. then... SLAM !! His cock went in rather easy from how soaked you were..

He couldnt hold back, he was thrusting relentlessly into your cunt, you were so wet that your juices got on his shirt. You were so embarassed covering your face. Ghost shook his head. " cant have you doin that pretty. I wanna see that face..." he said, he took it as he wasnt going good enough if you had the time to be embarassed.

He changed his pace as he worshipped your body with so.many.kisses. little "mines." As he pounded your cunt, you couldnt think. All you knew was hpw good you felt "mmhgfuck oh daddydaddydaddy m gnnnacumagain pleasee?" You moaned, you were teary faced, smuged makeup and all.

He smirked "mmh. You can wait baby" when you whine,Simon mocked you gently smacking your face again, anything this man did.. you love it. He had his hand on your stomach as he stuck his tongue out,this fucking slut man.

"Mmh... oou god baby im s' close. Want me to fill you up?? Yeah??' He asked,all you could do was nod." Cmon. Cum with me baby..i know you can" he said gently rubbing your face before planting a harsh smack on your ass.

He didnt stop thrusting, his hips stuttered as he filled you up with his hot seed, slamming every bit that came out back into you, as of course you both came at the same time...

A/N : Did you guys like this?😭im trying smt new

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

@smoozie okay!!!!! i just finished figuring out every hermits godly origin so.

the basic premise of the AU is that every single hermit is a god, or a being of similar power (except for Xisuma, who didn't intend to be admin of a server of mostly gods and DOESNT UNDERSTAND HOW THIS HAPPENED TO HIM GODDAMNIT.) together, they make up a pantheon thats occasionally worshiped by members of other servers, which some of them lean into and others find very, very uncomfortable. It's also a "being worshiped makes you more powerful" setting so there's that.

specifics as to their origins:

BDubs - A living saint of the sun and its light. Inherits some small amount of divine power from this, and says that this makes him a god. The other gods, especially Gem (who helped to grant him this power) think this is very cute of him.

Beef - A semi-omniscient demigod who mostly acts in service of other, greater gods. His latest patron is Big Salmon, a "higher power" that he claims controls the concepts of the water, consequences, and commerce.

Cleo - All Cleos across the multiverse have been left in mental contact with each other after the Time Witch's ritual. They form a powerful network between them, altogether controlling the flow of time and space across the servers they intersect with.

Cub - Through blood sacrifice, poorly understood magic, and worship of Vex gods, rendered himself functionally immortal. This was a science experiment for him, but he'll take immortality if it's what the end result comes to.

Doc - Achieved code-warping levels of power after the successful slaying of a Developer in single combat. Xisuma frequently enlists his help in keeping the server stable, because surprise surprise, 26 gods in the same place of vastly different origins makes the code a bit unstable.

Etho - Shapeshifting trickster god. Old, though not the oldest member of the server. Sometimes claims that he's following a script handed down by beings above him, though most other members of the server think he's saying that to dodge responsibility for his mischief.

False - False and her sister Symmetra were natural-born deities, worshiped as counterparts. False is worshiped as goddess of victory, art, and the water, while Symmetra is worshiped as goddess of defeat, industry, and the earth. False hasn't seen her sister in hundreds of years, and over time their worshipers combined their iconography into a single god.

Gem - Gem is a dimension-hopping, shapeshifting celestial being with domain over nature and sunlight. She pretends not to know what other members of the server are talking about when they bring this up, and mostly uses her powers for LARP purposes.

Grian - Watcher. Has claimed the server as his own, and thus sustains himself on high-intensity emotions of its occupants. To sate this hunger, he regularly starts wars, games, and other server events.

Hypno - A mage who ascended to demigod status through feats of arcane prowess. Longstanding enemies, dating back to their mortal days, with Wels. Their feud has become more amicable recently, thank god.

Impulse - He and Tango have the same origin, having ascended as part of the Rule Our World challenge they were placed into. After the forces of the universe were done subjecting them to whatever whims crossed their minds, Impulse became the embodiment of achievement and industriousness, while Tango became the embodiment of chaos and games.

Iskall - Part of the first group of players that Developers ever made. Escaped the purge of the first players, and has been dimension-hopping and stealing power from different servers ever since. Technically still mortal, but has been alive longer than any of the other server members.

Jevin - A demigod, and champion of the demigod Wels. Jevin was granted some of Wels's power under the condition that he helped Wels bother Hypno, which Jevin is more than okay to do. When he's not using divine power to prank Hypno, he's using it to prank everyone else.

Joe - Has, on separate occasions, claimed to be both "the most powerful of the Hermits" and "just an average guy." When pressed on what made him more powerful than the gods and eldritch beings he kept as company, Joe just smiled and said "I'm Joe Hills, recording as I always do in Nashville, Tennessee." Nobody knows what this means.

Joel - Joel Thundercheeks of Stratos, an 11-foot tall deity of lightning, lore, and the skies. His abrasive personality and tendency to throw power around made some question whether he should be invited, but Gem and Pearl advocated for him hard. He's used to being the only god around, so he's a bit surprised that throwing his power around doesn't always work now.

Keralis - Fragment of an eldritch being, and the conduit through which most of its power expresses itself. Bridges dimensions, and travels through time as easily as it does space. Unclear whether he is aware of any of this.

Mumbo - Was a mortal, though he has rendered himself immortal through animancy. His own soul is bound inside of a golden heart inside of his S7 base, and he has supplemented it with a fragment of Grian's, making him part-Watcher.

Pearl - Santa Perla, goddess of flowers, the harvest, the summer solstice, and the noonday sun. Thought she was mortal until the Empires crossover, when she remembered her past queendom. Her life force is tied to the lands she cultivates, so she has taken careful effort to ensure all her bases are verdant and flourishing.

Ren - One day declared himself "the king of all gods" despite not having been a god before this. None of the other Hermits were particularly willing to challenge him on this since it seemed harmless. Somehow, though, news of it spread, and he has established a fairly thorough following across other servers as a god of leadership, trade, travel, and theater.

Scar - Ate God. Which one? He never elaborates. Oh, sure, he'll go into detail about, say, the recipe he used to cook God, but ask him which God he ate, or how he killed it first, and he just brushes right past it. His power can't be denied, though, so he must be telling the truth.

Skizz - Suffused with Withering Energy, and acts as a bringer of doom and despair because of it. Oh, sure, he's a really nice and supportive guy, and everybody loves him, but also things tend to collapse around him in dramatic and spectacular fashion. Hermitcraft has only survived because of the power of 25 other gods crushing any disaster before it happens.

Stress - Goddess of hope, beauty, and love. Unfortunately, she was cursed a long time ago by Iskall when they first met, adopting a monstrous form, which is worshiped as a deity of doom, evil, and hate. He's been very apologetic about it since and offered to help her reverse the curse, but she's overall very happy with the state of things. They've become very close friends.

Tango - See Impulse. Unlike most gods, who become more powerful the more they're worshiped, Tango draws power directly from the souls of those who perish inside his games, which has made him somewhat giddy about the concept of death in general.

Wels - A knight and folk hero who ascended to demigod status from the pure gratitude of those who he saved. Considered a patron of justice and protection. Over the years, he's become bored with this, and gotten into quite a bit of mischief. See also Jevin and Hypno.

XB - A mortal godkiller. He ruthlessly hunts gods outside the server in order to make them answer for their crimes against mortals. Within the server, he also occasionally kills the others, just for funsies.

Zed - Avatar of Death. Controls the process of respawning, though he often gets so distracted that he forgets to actually pay attention to it, leaving some players in limbo for quite a while before he remembers he has to pay attention to their souls.

[incorrect-spiderverse]

 Enemies make Hobie read their demands in front of a camera:

Hobie: "Hello, my name is Hobie. I have been kidnapped…"

Kidnapper: *points gun at Hobie*

Hobie: *pushing the man away* "Can you stop pointing the gun at me? It’s fucking annoying"

Kidnapper: *kind of confused and scared*

...

 Hobie: "To ensure my safe return home please pay us one million pounds…"

Hobie: "Wait … One million pounds?" *glares at the men*

Kidnapper: "… ?"

Hobie: "Is that fucking it? Is that what you think I’m worth? No, I’m not havin' that. That’s fucking ridiculous… "

Hobie: *stands up to leave* "That’s insulting!"

Kidnapper: "...What the hell?"

...

Hobie: "To ensure my safe return home please pay us five hundred million pounds."

Kidnapper: "…"

Hobie: "Now! Thats more like it!"

...

Hobie, while walking around the hide out: "What a shithole! You guys could really tidy up more here."

Kidnapper: "Wait... what?! Where are your handcuffs?"

Hobie: "Got them off. They were too loose"

...

Hobie: "So, what made you chose me out of all those spideys? It’s my attitude, right? Tell me I am right. Oh, I am so right."

Kidnapper: "Can’t you shut up for a second?!"

Hobie: *offended* "No need to be rude! Just making some small talk! "

Kidnapper: *ponders all his decisions in life*

...

 Kidnapper: "We didn’t get the money! You are going to die now!"

Hobie: "Gentleman! Let’s be civil about this! Let’s make a deal. You surrender and you won’t get hurt. How does that sound?"

Kidnapper: "And how do you intend to hurt us?"

Hobie: *being innocent* "No! No! I can’t hurt you"

Kidnapper: "…?"

Hobie: "But my team can. Say hi!"

Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr: *barges in and webs everyone up*

Hobie: "You should have accepted the deal mate"

...

 *On the way back to the Spidey base*

Hobie: "Took you a lot bloody longer than I have thought to save my ass…"

Miles: "What the hell? You needed no one to save you. You could have taken them out hours ago!"

Pavitr: "We waited. Looked like you were having fun"

Hobie: "Awww cheers for that. I did have fun!"

Gwen: "I'm so done with all of you"