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coltermorning · 10 months

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Where Stubbornness Leads Pt. 2 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: A trip to town results in a conversation Arthur can’t get off his mind.

Author’s Notes: Part two of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, smut, high honor Arthur Morgan

AO3 Link

Where Stubbornness Leads

Word count: 7045

Part Two

It had been two weeks. Already two weeks of being with you, something good enough as to make Arthur think he was the luckiest man alive.

He wasn’t quite sure how it had ever happened or that he deserved it, but those things didn’t matter when he was with you. What mattered was that a woman as fiery and passionate and good-hearted felt for him right back. All things considered, he had thought that part of his life was over for a long time. And now that it wasn’t, each morning was like waking up to a pleasant surprise—something to lift his spirits beyond what anything else had for years.

Arthur awoke with that very feeling and decided to write it down—he was making a quick journal entry in the overlook’s early morning hours so as not to attract any attention. Halfway through his words, he debated what to draw alongside them. He would be lying if he said this was the first time you made your way into his journal. The night you met when the gang took you in, he’d written in a quick retelling. Then again on the night he kissed you, that one with a rendering of you in that dress you wore he couldn’t get out of his head. But this entry wasn’t about any night in particular, just spending time with you and how proud you remained. He chuckled at the thought, suddenly knowing exactly what to draw.

Half an hour later, he had a nearly-finished sketch of you, the perfect tilt of your hips as you cocked them at him making him smile. He looked up and saw the real thing meandering around camp and shut his journal to go join you.

You were wearing a dress this morning. You didn’t wear them all that often, and when you did it was a rare treat. Not only did you look good enough to make an ache settle in Arthur’s chest, but you couldn’t do as many of the chores you kept insisting on in a dress. This of course moved Arthur to step in for you, and even better, you didn’t refuse him when he did.

This was exactly what he found himself looking forward to when you waltzed over to the feed sacks. Another chore you knew would get his attention as if the dress hadn’t already. He walked over to join you.

“Don’t even try it,” he teased, making you turn.

You smiled that devilish smile he knew meant trouble. You reached for the sack anyway.

“Uh uh,” he said, denying you by stepping in and batting your hand away. He took the sack right out from under you, flipping it over his shoulder. You crossed your arms at him, eyes smoldering. The sight ate him up. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” you said innocently, and before he could stop you, you’d reached down and gotten the other sack, coming up beaming at him.

“For christ’s sake,” he said, the edges of a grin tugging on his mouth despite it. He started for Pearson’s wagon with you alongside him.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” you shot back. You were right about that much.

“Maybe, but I prefer you didn’t throw your back out.”

“Oh, because I’m just a helpless little woman, am I?”

“No,” he said smugly. “Because you lifted that thing with your back, not your knees.”

Your expression soured. He laughed.

“Shut up.” You gave him a small shove, making him smile like a fool.

“Good lord. Get a room already, would you?” This from Karen who stood over her coffee at Pearson’s wagon. Mary-Beth, standing just beside her, snorted with laughter.

“How about you mind your business?” Arthur said hotly. The two of you hadn’t yet brought your relationship out in the open in front of the gang, but that didn’t stop them from making comments like this at every turn. In fact, Arthur was willing to bet there wasn’t a soul left who didn’t suspect you of being sweet on each other.

Karen barked a laugh. “Relax, I’m just needling you.”

“Very funny.” Arthur let you put your feed sack down first, hoping you weren’t too embarrassed by the gang’s constant badgering.

“Mr. Morgan!” Arthur turned at the sound of his name, finding Pearson ambling over. “Thanks for the help with those,” he said as Arthur set the sack down atop yours.

“No problem.”

“Listen, I need a few supplies from town. Think you could go get them for me?”

“What do you need?”

Pearson dug in his pocket and pulled out a list, handing it to Arthur. “There. Nothing too complicated.”

He looked over the list, figuring the trip would be quick work. He was glad to have a reason to visit town besides. To get away from all these people, more like.

“Sure, I’ll get it, Pearson.”

“Good man!” Pearson replied, already walking away when Arthur turned to you.

“Care to join?”

That gleam was back in your eye, and for a moment he thought you would tell him no. But then your face went slightly red, and you glanced at the other women. “Sure. I, uh, need to get some things myself anyway.” Before he could ask what, you were backing away. “Meet you at the wagon?”

“Sure.” Awful strange, seeing you unsure. Or hiding something.

Five minutes later when he was joining you on the wagon, Arthur asked about it. “What’s got you acting all strange back there?”

“Back where?”

“In front of Karen and Mary-Beth.”

“I weren’t acting strange.”

He chuckled. “You kinda were.”

“Well you’re strange,” you said quickly, your temper flaring.

“Whatever you say,” he quipped, making it obvious he didn’t believe you. But you didn’t say another word about it, and he dropped it for your sake. Precious few things got you embarrassed. He didn’t want to pry.

The two of you fell into pleasant conversation on the way to Valentine. You were discussing Pearson’s cooking, his need for some of the flavors he’d asked for, when the wagon jolted over a deep divot in the road. You winced, bringing your arms around your middle. The movement drew Arthur’s attention.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you answered, but your gritted teeth said otherwise. He pulled the wagon over and stopped. “Arthur, really. I’m fine.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You met his eye then. He had discovered very recently you would forfeit your stubbornness if he was gentle toward you. As if you liked him enough to trust him, to put down your toughness when he did. Whatever the cause, it worked.

Your face heated again as you said with shyness, “I- it’s…women problems. Ain’t nothing.”

It took Arthur an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out what you meant.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, you big brute, now get back on the road,” you said, giving him a small shove of affection.

He obliged you, turning away as he steered the wagon, hoping his hat hid most of the redness on his face.

“Badgering me,” you muttered.

“You looked in pain,” he said in his defense.

“I am in pain.” And, at the look he gave you then, “Nothing I haven’t dealt with every month for years now. Relax, would you?”

He dropped it. He knew better than to say another word.

As it turned out, you had needed a few things from the store for said pain. That was what you’d been embarrassed to say in front of the women. Arthur leant you the money to buy what you needed, giving you space to breathe as he told you he’d be waiting on the bench outside. In a few minutes, you joined him.

“Thank you,” you told him with an unusually sincere look. “Didn’t have to make a big show of it.”

He shrugged. “For you I would.”

You smiled. And it tugged at his heart enough that when you got back on the wagon, he pulled you over and kissed you on the cheek before grabbing the reins and steering back out into the street.

Now that he knew the reason behind your pain, you stopped hiding it from him quite so much. On the ride back, you were wallowing around, curled in on yourself.

“That bad, huh?” he asked.

“Not terrible. But not great. Nothing I can do about it though.”

“Is there not?”

You looked at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just-” He immediately stopped himself, realizing why he had said that. Something he had heard a long time ago as a teenager, most likely just men being idiots, telling him that. No truth to it whatsoever. Arthur felt his face go so red that he knew there was no escaping your next words.

“What? What’s got you all red in the face?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

“Awe, don’t pull that crap,” you said with a smile. “What is it? I’ve already admitted all to you, so spill it.”

“No,” he said, digging his heels in this time. Admitting what was on his mind would only bring trouble.

“Come on,” you said, taking his arm and shaking him. “I want to know.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do. And it’s unfair that you-”

“Drop it this time,” he said, knowing how you were and that you wouldn’t unless he asked outright.

He thought he had gotten through to you until you yanked the reins out of his hands and pulled the horses up.

“I most certainly won’t drop it. Tell me.”

He sighed. “Y/N, now’s not the time to be stubborn. Trust me.”

It was the wrong thing to say. You were getting madder by the minute, and what he was holding under his tongue would only make it ten times worse.

“Tell me, Arthur Morgan.”

He turned away, shaking his head. May as well get this disaster over with. “Just…something I was told as a boy. About women and their…” He made a general motion that had you raising your eyebrow dangerously high. “Forget it. Forget I said a word,” he muttered, taking the reins back.

But your hand on his own stopped him. And he looked up to find you watching him smugly, like this was the funniest thing in the world. “Do tell.”

He huffed a breath, shifting around in his seat, not meeting your eye as he said, “Promise you won’t slap me?”

“No promises.” Of course not.

He took a breath before starting, knowing he was damning himself with every word. “There’s…an old wives tale I guess. Or maybe just some idiot spouting off things he don’t know, better left unsaid.”

“Which is?”

Arthur couldn’t keep the color off his face. How he got himself into these things…

“That, uh, a woman who’s- who has menstrual pain can lessen it by…well-”

“Good lord, spit it out man.”

“By pleasuring herself,” he said quickly. And he was met with such silence he braced himself and turned to you. You burst out laughing.

“You thought I would slap you over that? Oh, Arthur,” you said, your laughter barely contained. “Men are idiots. You included.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence or I will slap you,” you said, the smile on your face nearly contagious. “But I do appreciate you being so thoughtful.” If his face got any redder, he would be setting some kind of record.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish smile of his own, whipping the reins. The wagon lurched forward, bringing your continuous laughter with it.

You only quieted down once you were nearly into camp. “You’re lucky I don’t know the other women well enough to tell them this. No matter how much I want to.”

“Please,” Arthur said, desperate. “Resist the urge. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Oh, you won’t ever hear the end of it. Not from me.”

He met your eye and leaned over, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “You wouldn’t.”

“Won’t I?” you said, though your gaze caught on his mouth.

And soon you were back in camp, about to get off the wagon when your hand around his arm stopped him. Your voice dropped low so no one would overhear. “Any pleasure I get’s going to be from you, Mr. Morgan. Though you’re welcome to think of me doing that if you want.”

He quit breathing.

You jumped down and spun, your dress twirling around you as you leveled him with a wicked grin. He didn’t miss the color crossing your face, though his was likely ten times worse with how hot his ears suddenly felt.

Just like that, you had turned and walked back into camp. And Arthur realized he was still sitting there like an idiot, trying his best not to dwell on the image you had just put in his head. It was a nearly impossible task.

The rest of the day, Arthur worked harder than he had since Colter. There was no other way to keep his mind off your words. He didn’t necessarily want to keep his mind off them, but the feeling that shot through him every time he did was making it difficult to focus. So he worked. You joined in with some things, going on like the two of you normally did. He was almost sure you were enjoying this though, as he caught the corner of a smile on your mouth twice before you could turn away in time. This was a dangerous game you were playing.

The night turned unusually cold—something Arthur resented when he went to bed. Because he always let the canvas down around him when it was cold to keep the wind out. And he had just done this and had barely had time to sit on his cot before he remembered what you whispered to him. The thought brought the same image to him, of how you would look splayed back with your hands between your legs. And damn the cold weather, because the canvas was down, and he felt his arousal take hold, and there was nothing stopping him now from thinking about you all he wanted.

He laid back on his cot, taking his hat off and letting it fall to the ground. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands but discovered this to be worse—the darkness gave way to the image of you once more. And, with a breath of impatience, he gave in, reaching for the buttons of his pants. He was already half-hard when he pulled himself out, beginning to stroke himself to the thought of what else you had said, wanting him to pleasure you. He gladly would if that was what you wanted. He’d be honored to. Surprised, really, since you seemed to hate his company so much when you first met.

He thought of your smart mouth and felt pleasure jolt through him, working his hand a little faster when your mouth around him came to mind. He held back a groan when he thought of burying himself inside you, how perfect you would feel around him. All other thought fell away as he began to pump himself hard and fast, imagining it was you he was pleasuring.

In moments, Arthur felt his high nearing, closing his eyes tight to the sharp pleasure of it. The thought of your naked body splayed out beneath him sent him over the edge, wringing out every ounce of pleasure he could as he tried his best to keep his labored breathing quiet.

Arthur came back down to the thought of your words, knowing they had taken hold and wouldn’t let him go now—it would be this every night until he could have the real thing. He would wait as long as you needed him to, wanting you to be sure, but he had a feeling the simple act of admitting that to him meant you were close to giving in to your desire too.

The next night was the same hell in different form, having you but not having you. He was sat at the poker table playing against Javier and John. You and Karen lingered, you not giving him any help whatsoever like you had at the poker tournament, no matter how much he asked. That didn’t stop you from calling him a fool every time he made risky bets or played poor hands. The pair of you were beginning to interrupt the game bickering so much that Karen cut in.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Can you two just admit you’re sweet on each other already and let us get on with the game?”

Arthur felt his face heat and watched yours do the same before you met his eye with a sharp glance.

“Fine,” you said on a sigh, your annoyance aimed at whoever prodded it. To Arthur’s shock, you rounded him and sat down right in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Karen cheered as you did it, John and Javier joining in. You broke the kiss like it was nothing, further proving to everyone you two had already done this before.

“Happy?” you asked Karen, still perched on Arthur’s lap with your hands around his neck like it was the most normal thing in the world. Even though the question wasn’t directed at him, he was happy. Happy as a king.

“Finally,” Karen said through a snort of laughter. “You owe me five bucks, Tilly!”

Tilly called out from somewhere in camp, “You’re kidding!” Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle, resting his hand on your lower back as Tilly came running over.

“Oh, I knew it!” she said when she saw you in Arthur’s lap.

“No duh,” Karen said. “We all did.”

“What’s this bet about then?” Arthur asked, trying to keep the pride out of his voice.

“I bet you would make the first move,” Tilly said with a smirk. “Thinking you didn’t care what any of us thought.”

“And I bet she would,” Karen said, pointing to you. “Knowing Arthur wouldn’t dare admit his feelings lest he impose.”

“Oh, lay off it,” Arthur said. His ears burning with the truth of it.

You barked a laugh. “She’s right, you know,” you said, looking down at him.

“Is she?” he said lowly. You held his stare, a grin turning your mouth.

“Good lord,” John said, throwing his cards down. “Why’d you have to bring it up? Now they’ll be worse,” he said to Karen.

“Why do you have to be so miserable?” she shot back.

“Forget it,” John said, getting up and stalking off.

“Goddamn baby,” Karen mumbled, the jab making Tilly laugh.

“I’ll take these,” Javier announced, shuffling John’s few chips over to his own pile. Arthur didn’t even care. He was having a tough time focusing on the gang’s usual camaraderie, his hand skimming over your back and coming to rest on your hip.

“Come on then, I’ll help you beat ‘em,” Karen said to Javier. She moved around to stand behind him, viewing his cards.

“Ooh, me too,” Tilly piped up, doing the same. Little did they know you were a damn good partner to have at the poker table. If you had finally decided to help him, that is.

You turned in Arthur’s lap, facing the table and joining the game. He would have been glad for it had you not just moved against him in a way that sent arousal shooting through him. He tried to adjust himself a little but only ended up with his hands on your hips. And the feeling of you in his grasp alone made things immeasurably worse.

“Let’s see…” you said, taking his cards, adjusting your seat. With the motion, your backside moved against him. Where Arthur thought you hadn’t noticed the effect you were having on him, he had been wrong—you had moved like that on purpose, throwing him a snide smirk over your shoulder.

“You make a habit of drawing the worst cards?” you teased.

“Seems so,” he answered, trying to keep his voice from shooting too low. Wondering how you kept such a straight face when all he could think about was your body against him.

“Here,” you said on a sigh, throwing a few chips into the pot. The game resumed, the two of you fairly evenly matched with Javier and Karen and Tilly. But Arthur could hardly give a thought to the game. He barely even noticed when his chips ran out, you turning to look at him.

“Oops.”

“What?”

“Bust,” you said, eyeing him knowingly, like you could read his thoughts.

��Damn,” he said, though it couldn’t be more obvious how satisfied he was with his lot.

“Damn indeed,” you said, tucking a strand of his hair back into place. He felt the same longing as he had when you’d straightened his coat. Worse.

After Javier gathered the coins that had been thrown down, he stood with satisfaction, saying, “Well, that was fun. Let’s do it again, Arthur. Maybe you’ll have more luck next time.” He smirked and managed one step from the table before the women started demanding their cut. Arthur chuckled, watching Karen and Tilly chase after Javier as he did he best to shake them off. He knew that was useless.

You ran your hand through his hair again, turning Arthur’s attention back to you. He was pleased to see the two of you were the only ones left at the table. In the nearby vicinity, even. It had gotten late enough to give you a bit of privacy, especially since he was sat in the seat nearest the cliffside so that he could see anyone approach. This left less than gentlemanly ideas coursing through his head, the look you were giving him not making things any better.

“What’s got you all in a bother then?” you asked, intentionally moving against him as you turned to face him better.

“You know what you’re doing,” he answered. “Don’t play like you ain’t doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?” you said with a tilt of your head, turning fully so that you planted your feet on either side of him. Straddling him. He couldn’t tear his hands away from your sides if he wanted to but resisted the urge to pull you flush against him. Barely.

“I’ve seen how you sit in a chair,” he said. “This ain’t it.”

“You’re not a chair,” you said simply.

“No.”

He watched the gleam he adored enter your eyes, that scheming look enough for him to know he was done for. Sure enough, you raised up almost imperceptibly, moving against his erection in slow, intentional movements.

He clenched his jaw. “Sweetheart…” He said it in warning, wanting you proper, wanting to pleasure you fully, not like this in the middle of camp. But he knew if you kept on, he wouldn’t have it in him to stop you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side again. You kept on, grinding against him torturously slow.

“We’re in the middle of camp,” he managed, his voice so shot through with his arousal it was a wonder he could still speak.

“I’m just sitting on your lap,” you lied. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“This ain’t sitting,” he hissed when you sat a little lower, building the pressure against him.

“No?” you asked. “Well, let’s fix that.”

You sat, suddenly and fully enough to make Arthur hold in the edges of a groan. He felt one of your hands take his, bringing it to your thigh. He couldn’t tear his eyes from yours, that mischievous look pinning him down as much as you were. You slowly dragged his hand toward your middle, beginning to smirk like a cat. Arthur’s mouth went dry.

“You want to test your theory?” you asked lowly.

“What’s that?” he said, his voice catching.

Your smile widened. “Would you pleasuring me make my pain go away?”

He had forgotten all about your cycle. And concern trickled through him, not quite catching enough for him to stop what you were doing with his hand, though he still spoke his mind. “Are you hurting?”

He said it with sincerity, not wanting to cause you any worse pain. But he thought he saw a flash of something cross your face, something a lot like arousal. And just like that, you brought his hand to your clothed sex, his palm pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment before they were on him, all haughtiness gone, only want remaining. He was happy to oblige you.

Arthur moved his hand in small circles against you, loving the way your breath caught when he did. He cast a quick glance around to make sure the two of you were still alone. You were. God, did he want this to be more private. He would take you right here on this table if he could.

You parted your lips and let out a slow breath, the action drawing Arthur’s attention like nothing else. He kissed you, quick and soft, before pulling back. “My beautiful girl.”

Your face went red. He couldn’t tell if it was from his words or a flush in response to what he was doing to you. Your hands had gripped his forearms tight, your eyes losing focus.

His cock was straining beneath you, and he was seconds away from encouraging you to move with his other hand before he heard a voice nearby.

“…knew he was shit at cards. Hey, Morgan!” Arthur’s eyes snapped up, his hand going back to your hip.

“What, Bill?” He said it shortly, not meaning to sound so harsh but annoyed all the same at being interrupted. Even worse was the small noise of impatience you made that had Arthur debating taking you to his tent right then.

“There’s no need to snap at me. Hey, you two are…” Bill looked at you both like it had just dawned on him you were sitting in Arthur’s lap. Arthur spotted the bottle in his hand and scoffed.

“You’re drunk, Bill. Go sleep it off.”

“So what if I’m drunk?” he shot back. Arthur heard you let out an annoyed breath. He looked to you and found you already turning, your temper rearing its head. You stood and swung over Arthur’s legs, storming down Bill instead. Arthur felt his chest cave at the loss of your touch but didn’t dwell on it long, not when you flung so much anger in your approach that Bill cowered.

“Leave him the hell alone. He said go sleep it off,” you spat. You were much shorter than Bill but managed to tower over him with your rage alone. Bill knew not to test you with the way you were poised to strike. It turned Arthur’s mouth in a smile, seeing you like that.

“Sorry,” Bill said, his voice going high. “I’ll leave you alone then. Christ.”

You pointed to Bill’s shared tent, and with a scoff, he turned and did as you said, walking to it. Arthur chuckled lowly. Bill was normally too stupid to be intimidated, much less take orders.

Arthur got up, adjusting himself before he walked over to where you stood, fuming. “What’s got you all in a bother?” he asked lowly, repeating what you had asked him.

You swatted at him. Arthur laughed aloud, catching your hand. “Easy. Didn’t mean to draw that temper of yours.”

“I don’t have a temper,” you spat before turning on your heel, making for your own tent. Arthur was too busy smiling at that to be angry over the interruption. He would get to pleasure you proper soon enough. And next time, he would find the privacy to do each and every thing he wanted, drawing your want out of you until you were satisfied enough to forget all about that temper.

Arthur’s chance came four days later. It was late, most everyone else was asleep, and he found himself lowering the canvas around him as he had done every night before. Only, there was no chill in the air. Each night before, it had been for privacy as he worked himself over to the thought of the flush on your face, your pleasure made palpable. Now, it was for a different kind of privacy. For you stood in his tent before him, in a dress again, trying to argue with him about something. He couldn’t give said argument a moment’s thought.

“You’re not even listening to me,” you said, crossing your arms.

He finished tying the last of the canvas together and turned to you. “No. I ain’t.”

You had the briefest moment to look offended before he stepped forward and kissed you, any annoyance you had melting away as your hands found his face and you kissed him back.

The kiss turned heated, the first time he allowed it to. He knew he would never be able to stop himself after kissing you like this, your mouth parting for him, his tongue finding yours. And god above was it perfect.

He wrapped his hands around your back, reveling in the taste of you, the small heat of your mouth.

You pulled back suddenly, meeting his eye. “Don’t think we won’t finish this argument later.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, already kissing you again.

His hands drifted down, finding your backside and slipping just below. He lifted you with ease, making you emit a small gasp as he continued kissing you, backing your toward his bed.

You took the lead then, desperate in how you kissed him. Greedy. Your legs wrapped around his waist before he could set you down, and his erection hit you right where he needed you most. He lined himself against you before remembering himself, remembering his patience. His own pleasure could wait.

He set you down on the bed softly, breaking the kiss, withdrawing his grip on you. He climbed over you, meeting your lust-blown gaze. “Let me make you feel good. Take that pain you were talking about away.”

“That pain’s gone. Has been for a day or two.”

He could only nod, staying quiet as he began to undress you. He made quick work of your pretty little dress, bringing it over your head and tossing it aside. He was slower with your chemise, kissing every inch of skin revealed, making you wait for his touch. He couldn’t help it. You were beautiful, and the more he saw of you, the more he wanted to kiss and taste and suck. The urge only worsened when he brought the fabric down over your breasts, your nipples hardened in your arousal for him. He immediately brought his mouth to your breast, flicking his tongue against you. He heard the slightest of sighs escape you and nearly lost himself over it. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to make you make that sound for him over and over until you were too hoarse to make it anymore.

He worked your other breast with his hand as he licked and sucked against you, eventually switching to show the other the same kindness. Your hands roved over his back all the while, your touch awakening something within him he tried desperately to fight down. This was about you, not him. Not yet.

He eventually began moving downward still, the anticipation eating him alive as he removed your chemise entirely, pressing kisses against your belly as he moved down the bed. Your hands found his head and tangled in his hair, tugging slightly the closer he got to your womanhood.

He finally broke away from your skin, looking down to see your perfect sex. You were glistening wet through that small thatch of hair, enough to make Arthur’s cock throb at the sight. Not wasting a second, he brought his mouth to you. He would normally use his hands, had planned on it, but he suddenly couldn’t resist tasting you. The second your slick met his tongue, he groaned in satisfaction, your grip on his hair tightening.

“Arthur,” you said on a sigh. He could have found his release from that sound alone.

He licked against you before finally plunging his tongue into your entrance, tasting you. He repeated the motion enough to be sure you were enjoying it before he ran his tongue upward. He found that small bundle of nerves and kissed it, making your breath catch. He paused, just barely, long enough to look up and see your expression. Your head was thrown back, your mouth parted, your eyes shut against the pleasure he was showing you. He had half a thought he would have to make a new journal entry of you before you were tugging his hair, guiding him back down to where you needed him. He smiled as he began pleasuring you once more, his tongue finding your clit. His hands came down on your hips, pinning you down when you began squirming beneath him. He made you take every ounce of it, loving each and every noise that escaped your mouth as he did. And finally, when your breaths became heavy and he knew you were close, he pushed his tongue into your cunt again, his thumb finding your clit instead. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and in seconds, you had found your release on his tongue, panting from it. He nearly found his own too but caught himself, keeping his breathing even to fight it back down.

He focused on your body, tasting your slick again before pulling away from you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You met his eye. “Arthur,” you whined quietly.

“You say the word and I’ll do it again,” he answered. He would. In a heartbeat, he would. He was completely at the mercy of that arousal on your face.

“Want you inside me,” you muttered. It broke his will clean in half.

He moved upward, kicking his boots off as he did, kissing your belly, your breasts, your neck. You took his face in your hands and kissed him hard, your tongue finding his this time. You moaned into his mouth, and the feeling made Arthur’s patience shatter. He needed you now. He fumbled with the buttons on his pants, letting you take his mouth. But you were soon moving out from underneath him, turning him over. You made him settle on the bed beneath you and started undressing him. He didn’t quite have the patience for this, but he let you do as you pleased, knowing better than to test your anger. You stripped his shirt away, your hands finding his chest, your mouth finding one of his scars. He went dead still. And just like that, his patience was restored. Likely because of the small act, of you showing love to such an ugly part of him.

You continued, finding every scar you could reach and pressing your lips to it. Lovingly. The feeling made his chest catch in sadness and longing and adoration. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have found someone this perfect, someone to love him, scars and all. The feeling welled up in his chest until you finally broke away, kissing him on the mouth. “You’re ungodly handsome,” you whispered into his mouth. “It’s unfair.”

“Far from it,” he replied. “Nothing like you.”

“Better,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath it, a response to all you were doing to him. Giving him. You moved down, unbuttoning his pants, pulling them off. Doing the same to his undergarments until he was as bare as you. He watched you take in the sight of how hard he was for you, seeing the adoration in your eyes. Pride. Always pride with you. You met his eye and moved up, your body laying flush with his. You kissed him again, your hand finding his cock, stroking him. The feeling was so good he knew he wouldn’t last. He almost let you be anyway. Almost.

Arthur turned you, pulling you beneath him once more. You huffed in annoyance. “Stubborn bastard.”

He smiled. “Won’t last like that, darlin’.”

Your scowl in answer didn’t last long. He lined himself up with you, his cock pushing against your slick, and all your fight fell away, your touch gentle and wanting against him once more. He kissed you hard, reveling in the anticipation of it all for a few seconds before he pushed into you, slow and grating. Nothing on this earth matched the pleasure that shook through him as he did. He bottomed out, trying not to groan too loud. He was unable to keep kissing you. Unable to focus on anything but being buried in your cunt.

“Feel so good,” he muttered.

“So do-” He slammed into you, and your words blurred into a whiny moan.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Need you to stay quiet for me. Don’t want to wake the whole camp.”

You met his eye, a hunger burning in your gaze so hot he wondered whether he’d angered you. “I don’t care about the camp. Take me already-”

He had bucked into you again, so harsh the bed rocked. The last word you uttered gave way to a seething hiss of pleasure, your best attempt at staying quiet.

“There,” he said, starting a slow pace. “Good girl.”

“You did that on purpose,” you breathed, your eyes shutting in response to him rocking into you, his cock hitting so deep he knew this wouldn’t last long.

He chuckled, his happiness uncontainable. You kissed him, your tongue pushing his mouth open. Demanding. He did it right back. His arousal took over once more at what he was doing, at the thought of this being you underneath him, taking his cock so good. You were so tight around him he groaned again, especially when you started to dig your nails into his back from your own need.

He picked up his pace, wanting to feel you let go around him before he gave in. You let out a loud moan, and he didn’t have it in him to quiet you down. He loved the sound. He wanted to hear it again. In fact, he was a fool for doing this in camp and not taking you somewhere far away where he could make you moan as loud as you wanted. You shifted beneath him, bringing your legs up slightly, the new angle so good he clenched his jaw to keep his release at bay. He hadn’t wanted to be too rough with you, but he took this as proof of your toughness and wrapped his arm under your leg, tugging it upward. He hooked your leg over his shoulder and thrust into you hard. You both let out a noise of gratification, the feeling so pleasure-filled it hurt.

He was close. He wanted to watch your orgasm take over again, wanted to see your face this time as he got you there. So he brought a hand down and started circling his thumb against your clit.

“Arthur,” you breathed, your hand finding his forearm and clinging to it as you writhed beneath him. He swirled his thumb faster, making you clench down on him. “Fuck, Arthur.” And your mouth fell open, your chest rising in a held breath. Arthur fucked you through your release, buried beneath his own pleasure at you saying that word to him.

You let out sharp breaths as your high broke through you. The sight of you alone had Arthur teetering on the edge, but those sinful little sounds…

He pushed into you two more times before he came, pulling out and spilling across your stomach. It was ungodly good, pleasure that rendered him numb to anything else. It tore through him so harshly he fell onto you, barely aware that he was crushing you until you tried to pry your leg out from between you.

He took a breath before he could speak again. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” He used what little strength he had to raise himself off of you.

You smiled at him, the look of it on your blissful, tired face something he wanted to see over and over again. “Not that,” you breathed, still catching your breath.

“What then?”

“If I don’t get away from you now,” you said, taking another breath, your chest heaving. “I’m gonna keep you here all night.”

“Keep me here?” he teased. “This is my bed last I checked. I’m keeping you here.”

You smiled. He kissed you. “Or,” he went on. “I could just use my mouth on you again. You seemed to like that.”

You hummed in approval. “I have good reason to.”

He grinned wide. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re too busy with your mouth to talk back to me.”

He laughed. “Unbelievable. Like I’m the one talking back when you know good and well it’s you.”

“It’s not me, like I was telling you before you-”

He kissed the argument right off your lips. And in doing so and moving against you, he remembered his spend on your skin, on his now too after he fell against you. He picked his shirt up off the ground and cleaned you both off, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his embrace. Trapping you, more like, as he was sure you weren’t done arguing. Not by the look of defiance still on your face.

He pulled the blanket over you both, crushing you to him, glad to finally be able to have you in his bed. And when you did speak again, he was surprised to hear that it wasn’t about your earlier argument.

“Damn you for being so warm. And sweet. And good to me.”

He grinned, propping his head on top of yours, settling into the tiredness that stole over him. “Careful. That was damn close to a compliment.”

“Yeah, well, you bring out the worst in me.”

Arthur couldn’t help but snicker at that as you relaxed, finally settling against him like you were meant to be there all along.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #high honor arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing #nsft #lemon fanfic

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mycherrycola · 2 months

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I'm opening up two Sketch Commission slots (0 / 2 slots filled) just for people on tumblr :)

✧･ﾟSketches are $15 for one full body character with up to two flat colors and/or pencil shading (like Mr. Jack-O-Cowboy and Death Wrangler)

✧･ﾟSketches are $10 for one half body character with up to two flat colors and/or pencil shading (like Papa Terzo)

✧･ﾟSketches with no color are $10 for one full body character (like Saint Sebastian WITHOUT the tree).

✧･ﾟAdditional props/characters will be considered an add-on, and the cost will depend on the complexity (like Saint Sebastian WITH the tree would be +$3 prop, or with St. Irene tending his wounds would be +$8 character)

Payment will be through paypal or venmo!

~please read full Terms & Conditions below~

TERMS & CONDITIONS

Commissions are for personal use ONLY. Please do not use for prints, stickers, or any other merchandise to sell.

Limited commission slots are open for sketches as outlined above ONLY. Fully rendered commissions are still closed.

I will do OCs, fanart, slight gore/blood, artistically unclothed bodies.

I won't do furry/animals, excessive gore/depictions of violence, explicit n$ fw.

I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO:

1. refuse anything I don't feel comfortable drawing

2. post the commission to my social media platforms unless discussed prior

Finally, DM me with your ideas or any questions, and THANK YOU for reading! ’•.¸♡¸.•’♡’•.♡¸.•’¸

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gay-little-izzet · 1 month

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I do commissions!

It’s been a busy few months for me, but I’m finally feeling in a good place to start doing these again! Note that I only accept payment through PayPal at the moment, and my prices are in USD.

Full information below ⬇️

I offer characters illustrations in four styles and three sizes. The images above are not the only possibilities of how a commission could be inked or rendered, as I’m open to using different brushes or techniques on request. If there’s a particular piece of mine you like the style of, let me know and I can refer you to the pricing that applies.

OPTIONS AND RATES

Sketch: a rough sketch with a textured or untextured brush. Sketch commissions will include an under-sketch to determine pose and composition. Some of these prices are intended mostly for inclusion as part of a character sheet. I will add base colors to a sketch for double the original price.

Head/Bust: $5 ($10 with color)

Half Body: $10 ($20 with color)

Full Body: $15 ($30 with color)

Style A: Thick or medium lines with basic colors underneath. Includes simple details and gradients, but not full shading.

Head/Bust: $15

Half Body: $30

Full Body: $40

Style B: Thick or medium lines with soft shading or cell shading.

Head/Bust: $20

Half Body: $40

Full Body: $60

Style C: Medium or thin lines with full shading/render. +$10 for colored line art.

Head/Bust: $30

Half Body: $60

Full Body: $90

Chibis: I've finally found a style I like for drawing chibi characters, so I'll be including this as a new commission option! Chibis will all be done in the same style, with thick lines and basic coloring.

Head: $10

Full Body: $30

Character Sheet: A series of drawings of a single character, provided they are commissioned at the same time, will cost 10% less than the sum of all components. This includes characters dressed in different outfits, but normal rates apply to a commission of multiple distinct characters.

Complex Design: Since the level of the detail of a design will impact the time it takes me to draw, I am now including an additional charge of 5-10% of the original cost for especially complex designs (very detailed clothing, elaborate anatomy, complicated color/shading situations). As complexity may vary, the additional cost will vary as well (although it literally can't exceed $10 for a single drawing based on my current prices). I appreciate it if clients are understanding when I decide a drawing will cost extra, because this charge helps ensure I am earning a decent rate for my time.

PAYMENT PROCESS

As I mentioned above, I accept payment through PayPal in USD. You can send money directly to my account, @viciousmocked, or if it’s more convenient for you/you would like a more specific record of the transaction, I can also send an invoice directly to your PayPal account.

For commissions of $30 or more, I require at least 50% of the cost to be paid upfront (although clients are welcome to pay more than that, or pay in full upfront). The remaining cost can be paid upon completion, and may be paid in installments if necessary. Bear in mind that if you fail to fully pay for a commission, you cannot purchase another until you have done so, and I may be hesitant to accept a commission if you are unreliable with payment.

I always welcome tips! If you're able and willing to toss me a little extra on a comm, I greatly appreciate it (but no stress if you can't--I don't expect to be paid any more than the agreed upon price, anything extra is up to you).

DISCLAIMERS

I Can/Will Draw:

ocs/rpg characters

fanart

ship art (including fanart or ocs)

party/group drawings

furry/anthro/monsters

robots/cyborgs/phyrexians, ect.

prosthetics and other tech

armor and weapons

blood/gore/body horror

non-sexual nudity

specific art styles

I Can't/Won't Draw:

mechs (not for lack of trying)

explicitly sexual content (again, not for lack of trying. If there's some interest in this, I'll consider changing my policy or making a sideblog for spicier content and commissions)

harmful or offensive content of any kind

any material I have personal or ethical issues with drawing. Given the commissions I have had before, I don't see this being a problem, but if this or the above clause applies, I will make it clear with the client that I am unwilling to draw it immediately.

Understand that art commissioned from me is still my art, and I expect to be credited for it. Please don’t repost my art without credit to me (rude), use it for training ai (why), or use it for commercial purposes (again, why). Again, I don't see this being an issue, as you all have been lovely clients thus far!

If you have questions about my rates or policies, please don't hesitate to ask--my inbox and dms are always open, and I will try to respond promptly. Thank you all for the love and support!

#my commissions #commissions #my art

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA of I want art trades to be of equal time/quality?

this is a weird one but I had a spat with someone recently because they wanted to do an art trade, which i was open to do, but we hit a weird impasse. When I do art trades I like to put forth as much effort as my trade partner puts forward first, and would prefer that if i put art first that my partner reciprocates the same amount of time and care.

Art style, quality, experience, follower count means nothing to me in the exchange, just the level of effort. It feels unfair to me that I would put in hours/days of work on a painting to only receive something done in less than a few hours, especially since that would basically be doing a free commission. I'm willing to give smaller/newer artists with less experience or cheaper software more effort in my half on the account that I trust they're doing their best with what they have. It's meant to be fun!

This is not an instance of that. I've checked this artist's gallery and they were perfectly capable of producing extensively detailed pieces, so I agreed to do a more detailed piece, as long as they do the same.

This is where things get weird. They were perfectly fine with me doing something bigger and were very excited, and I brought up that in my listed art trade rules, I'd like them to do the same. They agreed, and we both went to work. I'm a slow artist, so it's been taking me some time, and I'm well into working on colors and rendering. in the middle of this time is when I get my half. it's just lineart with some shading. it was very beautiful, and I'm grateful! but it's not necessarily a level of detail that we agreed on. So I kiss my flat colors and rendering goodbye and just quickly rendered the lineart to match.

They get excited and ask when the final of my half will be done. Confused, now assuming what they provided was just a WIP, I say when they finish theirs. They go "oh but this IS my final :)" and I am... still very confused.

I brought up our agreement to do equal effort and they go "but I did that, this took me a long time" to which I point out I've been working for a few days now to produce a fully rendered painting, which wasn't even finished by the time they posted theirs.

They start getting defensive saying that exertion of effort varies from person to person which I fully agree as a chronically fatigued person! but I still feel really scammed that I'm putting in all this work and they can only provide what their commission form claims is a "colored sketch" (and on the cheaper end too.)

They keep getting weird and defensive and I decide to just call the whole thing off, giving them the art I did and that it was final. They get pissy and call me an entitled asshole for wanting to "break their back" over a free art trade.

I would be perfectly happy getting a rendered sketch, if that were what we agreed on in the first place!

I don't think I'm the asshole here, but being called "entitled" really got to me, especially considering we WERE doing work for free. So here I am. Am I the asshole for wanting equal parts effort? Or am I just being entitled? I'd share the art pieces we did here but I won't out of privacy for both me and the other artist.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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weepywhalewatcher · 1 month

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+*.WILL THE WISE.*+

Time taken: 18 and a half hours

Fun facts about this AU/piece:

★The flowers on Will's trousers were painted by him, but suggested by Mike

★All of the blue/yellow was very much intentional :)

★The gems/trinkets are meant to represent the rest of the party (red = Max, purple = El, blue = Mike, orange = Lucas and green = Dustin)

★The heart staff IS a reference to that one funko pop (and Mike's shield of course)

★The stars can 100% glow in the dark, not useful in any way, it's just for a bit of fun.

★I imagine he's best at light and plant based magic, and normally is on defence rather than offence (I think El is more of the attack type)

~~~~~

Dude this was tedious as hell!!! Completely unplanned, I just found a cool reference pose and sketched it and then sketched Will the Wise details and then BOOM decided to fully render it. I know it looks quite clean but I'm still considering it rendering since it was all on the same layer. Anyway there's like barely a definition so I can literally do what I want 👍👍 anyway this art style was inspired by someone called Rory on Pinterest his art is super cool!!

Anyway enough rambling, here's a transparent bg version since I know the original background has quite a lot going on :) ↓↓↓

#runes on the spellbook mean absolutely nothing btw #i was just drawing shit #will the wise #will the wise fanart #will byers #will byers fanart #stranger things #stranger things fanart #byler #byler endgame #art #fanart #digital art

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odyssean-flower · 4 months

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i need your opinions...

working on the promised bonus chapter for the winding path of fate, but it's getting surprisingly long (of course it is) so i just want to know if i should keep it at the same length or shorten it

i just want to know if you guys actually want to read it

it's 2.5k words right now (which isn't a lot for some people, i know), but i keep wondering if i should cut a lot of the preamble out

Here's the whole thing below the cut

Neuvillette didn’t like summer. He found the hot sun and dry air stifling and uncomfortable. If he could have it his way, he would spend the season in a dark, cool, underwater cave somewhere, where the sunlight would be filtered through gallons and gallons of dense, refreshing, soothing water. Of course, it was the season most beloved by the citizens of Fontaine, so he kept his opinion to himself.

That was why on this bright, sunny afternoon, he was currently sitting in the dining room, safely behind a window. There was a cup filled with spring water from Mondstadt in his hand and a stack of the day’s newspapers on the dining table. Everything was at his disposal for whiling the hours away in peaceful tranquility.

However, the newspapers remained untouched, and the contents of his cup had only decreased an infinitesimal amount since he filled it half an hour ago.

Perhaps it was because all his attention was focused on you, who was currently working outside in the front yard.

Half an hour ago, you announced to him and the housekeeper Marie you were going to make your daily observations for the sunflowers and went outside with a notebook and pencil in hand. Half an hour ago, he also decided to sit for a while in the kitchen, which had a large window with a good view of the front yard. It was pleasantly cool there as well.

Neuvillette watched as you carefully jotted down measurements in your notebook after measuring the stems of the plants. He watched as you made sketches while muttering to yourself, though he couldn’t make out your words no matter how much he strained his ears. He watched as you rubbed the small leaves between your fingers. He watched (and nearly rose out of his seat) when you yelped and jumped away when you noticed a bee buzzing near your face. He watched as you tucked errant strands of hair behind your ear, only to have your efforts rendered useless when a sudden breeze would blow your haor against your cheek.

It had been two weeks since you planted the seeds. Similar to what he was doing now, Neuvillette had watched as you puzzled over where to plant them and how many to plant, and then watched as you and Marie dug the holes for the seeds. He offered to help, but you turned him down, saying that you didn’t want him to get dirt on his fine clothes and hair and that there was no way you were going to let the Iudex dig around in the dirt. He wanted to ask why it was okay for you to get dirt on your clothes and say that he had no compunctions about getting messy, especially if it was for your sake, but you were so adamant in your refusal that he had no choice but to back down.

After the seeds were planted, you began this routine of diligently noting down measurements and personal observations every day, rain or shine. You told him that you had done a similar activity with the young students back in your hometown and found it quite enjoyable to watch something grow from a seed to a full-grown plant.

He could relate. As someone who had watched over humanity for hundreds of years, there was something moving, even inspiring, about seeing small settlements transforming into large towns, or mere ideas developing into life-altering inventions.

But still…must you do this in the heat? Neuvillette understood that this was considered mild for Fontainian summers, but wouldn’t it be far more comfortable to do your observations in the evening when it was cooler and darker? Then, I could propose to join her. I’m sure she would let me then.

You had agreed to his request once. Then promptly ushered him back into the house after ten minutes. It had been a particularly sweltering day. According to you, the expression on his face had been “so heartrending that I can’t bear to look at it any longer.”

It was then that you frowned up at the sun before turning in the direction of the house. Neuvillette quickly picked up a newspaper and opened it. His eyes landed on an article about a recent performance at the opera house. The words slipped through his mind like slithering eels.

The door opened. “Just going to get my hat,” you said as you walked into the house. Neuvillette hummed in response, peering at you over the top of the newspaper. You went upstairs to your room. Neuvillette could hear the soft but solid thumping of your feet overhead as you walked around before they descended the stairs once more.

He had never realized until now how quiet his house was until you moved in. It wasn’t as though you were overtly loud or chatty, but before your arrival, his house had been as silent as a tomb most of the time. His housekeeper, aware of his preferences, only spoke the bare minimum to him and kept out of his way, and he almost never had guests over (the Melusines being an exception). The silence had always been a welcome reprieve to him. After a grueling day at court, it was just what he needed.

But these new sounds weren’t so obstructive, he found. The sharp intake of breath whenever a particularly interesting passage in a book was read. The sound of a door being closed quietly after wishing each other good night. The clinking of tableware at a shared dining table.

Yes, they weren’t obstructive. In fact, he was steadily learning that there was a difference between quietness and utter silence. And he was realizing just which of the two who preferred.

You briskly walked past the dining room before stopping and backing up. You poked your head around the door. “I’ll be done with the front yard soon,” you informed him with a straight face.

“Ah...okay,” Neuvillette nodded. His forefinger tapped on the edge of the newspaper.

“Just so you know,” you said, then headed outside again. You put on the hat and resumed your work.

He supposed the sun was the reason you were wearing that hat. He himself had no strong opinion on them, except for the knowledge that most of the ones he tried made him look faintly ridiculous. He was aware that they were popular among the fashionable ladies and gentlemen in the Court of Fontaine, popularized by Furina’s well-publicized love for them. He was familiar with the ordinance passed a few years ago that limited the heights of the hats in the opera house, on account of the complaints that they obstructed the view greatly. He liked the one you wore for your wedding.

But right now, he couldn’t say that he was terribly fond of them.

They certainly do obstruct the view greatly, he thought, unconsciously frowning as the floppy brim of the hat obscured your eyes.

The lavender bow tied around the crown of the hat caught his eye. He had seen this hat before and was sure that the ribbon had been green, the color of new spring shoots. Why did you change it? Because of the change in seasons? He heard from the Melusines that it was a recent trend among young ladies to decorate their hats with ribbons, lace, flowers, and other accessories to match the season. The thought of you carefully choosing between ribbons of different hues with the same serious look on your face when you were choosing where to plant the sunflower seeds brought a small smile unbidden to his lips.

Just then, you turned your head in his direction. He hurriedly turned back to the newspaper. For some reason, his heart was beating a little faster than before.

Neuvillette was aware that there were certain tenets of human etiquette that one must follow, lest one be branded as an eccentric. Not staring at people was one of the most fundamental ones. He himself had been guilty of it on many occasions when he first came to the Court of Fontaine. As he became more accustomed to human society, he learned to stop doing it, but it appeared that he was falling back into his old habits when it came to you.

He hadn’t the slightest idea why. It wasn’t as though you were doing anything strange. In fact, you were a perfectly ordinary woman. True, there were times when you would say something out of the blue or do something so unexpected that he was left agonizing over your every word and gesture, trying to glean clues that would explain why you would smile at him sometimes but sometimes not, and attempting to figure out how to replicate what he did...

You were like a puzzle box that contained precious treasure. He didn’t know what that treasure was, or what he would do with it should he obtain it, but it didn’t matter. He wanted it.

Would my brethren laugh at me if they saw how much a mere human has affected me, he wondered. Of course, they would have mocked him long ago for his fascination with humanity.

Neuvillette was roused out of his thoughts by a knock on the window. You were standing there, looking directly at him. He stood up from his chair and moved to the window until the only thing separating the two of you was the glass pane.

“Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said. You sounded like one of the Maison Gestion clerks reporting to him. “I’m going to the backyard now.”

“All right. But there is no need for you to report your every movement to me, Madame.”

“But I’m saying this for your benefit, sir. Since you like watching me so much.”

That was all you said before you turned around and walked to the back of the house.

Neuvillette was left standing there with his eyes slightly widened and a flush creeping up from his neck.

He heard a soft cough from behind him and turned around. Marie was standing there, her mouth pressed together tightly. She was holding a large bowl of watermelon diced into cubes.

“I was going to give this to Madame...but I think you would be more suited for the task, Monsieur,” she said, holding out the bowl to him.

He thanked her and briskly walked to the veranda doors. His mind was racing, trying to figure out how to apologize to you. You didn’t seem angry—it was quite possible that you were teasing him, which was something you were beginning to do more recently. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

He opened the doors and was met with a wall of heat. He grimaced but stepped outside. He sat down on the veranda seat and placed the bowl on the small glass table in front of him. At least there was shade here. He crossed his legs, then thought better of it. It looked too casual.

He heard your footsteps coming around to the garden and stood up. You still weren’t smiling when you saw him, only looking at him with that piercing gaze. His heart sank. Were you that angry at him?

“Madame,” he quickly said when you approached him. “I offer my sincerest apologies for watching you. You must have felt terribly awkward. I know that it’s rude behavior towards a lady such as you. I promise to never do it again.”

You looked at him for a moment. Neuvillette tried to read your eyes but gleaned nothing. You then moved your gaze to the bowl on the table. “Oh, watermelon!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands together. “Let me go wash my hands.”

You went back into the house through the veranda doors. Neuvillette remained standing where he was. He was now sure that you were furious at him. The droning of the cicadas couldn’t drown out his heartbeat thumping in his ears. Perhaps he should take his leave, as you wouldn’t want to see him. And yet, he remained rooted to the spot.

You came back after a few minutes and sat yourself down, then reached for a watermelon cube. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back slightly. “This is really good watermelon,” you said. Then, you opened your eyes and looked up at him. “You should sit down, sir.”

He sat down, trying to avert his gaze. He had to readjust his position when he realized that he had sat down on his hair. You were tactfully looking away as he did so. “I must once again apolo—”

“I heard you the first time,” you interrupted him. “I accept it.”

“Ah,” Neuvillette blinked as he felt a heavy weight lift from his being. “Thank you very much.” His throat was suddenly parched. He reached for a watermelon cube and put it in his mouth. The refreshing sweetness was very pleasant indeed.

“I do find it a bit unnerving when I look in the window and see a white figure staring back at me,” you said after swallowing another piece of watermelon. “It’s like something out of a horror novel.”

“My...my apologies,” he said. Your words stung him a bit (did he truly look that unsettling?), but they were well-deserved.

The next words that came out of your mouth surprised him. “I’ll start doing my observations later in the day, when it’s cooler,” you said, resting your chin in your hands. “I think it’s better for the both of us that way.”

“Are you saying...” Could this possibly be an invitation?

“Well...it occurred to me that I really didn’t have any right to tell you what you can or can’t do in your house,” you looked to the side slightly, as though embarrassed. “If you truly want to accompany me outside in the heat, then feel free to do so. I just don’t want to force you to do unpleasant things when you don’t need to, so I’ll accommodate you.”

Always so considerate...I wish she would be less so, he thought with a rush of emotions. He would have to decipher them later, because you were speaking again.

“I don’t quite understand why you’re so interested in watching me. It can’t be terribly interesting.”

“On the contrary, I find it fascinating to watch you at work,” Neuvillette put all his sincerity into those words. “You’re very meticulous. The sunflowers are sure to be brilliant when they bloom under your care.”

“I sure hope so. It was a lot of work digging all those holes,” you said, giving him a look. Another thing he found endearingly frustrating: you were terrible at receiving compliments. “But I think most of the credit should go to the good soil and the rain that fell for the past few weeks. The very timely rains, I might add.”

“Oh?” he kept his tone neutral. “Timely rains?”

“Mm-hmm,” you tilted your head to the side, looking up at the sky. The fruit juices on your lips glistened in the sun. He was almost disappointed when you dabbed at your mouth with a handkerchief. “It’s interesting that it started raining so much just after I planted the last seed.”

“Indeed, although it could also be a coincidence. One can never predict the weather exactly.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #the winding path of fate

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annelaurant · 3 months

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ANNE'S ART ATRIUM: COMMISSION SHEET 2024

► NEWS

Slots for February: 0/4

SINGLE CHARACTER COMMISSIONS are 50% OFF until June 2024 or until further notice!

► ABOUT ME

Hi, I'm Anne! I'm a writer and artist from the Philippines. I love fashion, fantasy, and bright colors in my art, and if you fancy my style, please consider me for your next commission!

► MY SERVICES

Please check back here once in a while to check if other types of services are available!

Palette Busts

This is a style wherein I only color-pick from a limited range of palettes to create a character bust. You may specify your preference of colors, symbols, and motifs to include in the piece. (You may request for cell shade, soft shade, or both.) Turnaround time is around 2-5 hours or 1-2 business days.

$25 - A palette bust with one character.

Character Art

This is a regular piece of character art for your OC, your faves, or both. Turnaround time is around 2-8 hours or 1-3 business days.

$30 - Bust

$45 - Half body

$60 - Full body

Character Outfits

I love fashion, so let me help you give more wardrobe options to your character! This will come as a full body option. Turnaround time is around 5-8 hours or 2-3 business days.

$45 - A single character outfit. Comes with the character in sketch and the outfit in clean sketch. Flat colors will be applied to the piece.

+ 50% - Alt versions that come in the same style.

Custom Character

Want a quick ref for your character? Need your mind blorbo to finally have a portrait? Customs are the way to go! Here I will assist you through the process of creating a character! Turnaround time is 1 month real time.

$ 75 - Front view

+ $30 - Back view

+ $15 - Expressions

+ $15 - Extra details

Add-Ons

Want some extra options? Here are the add-ons I can offer:

+ 30% extra character - All prices listed above are based on only one character. Not applicable for outfits or customs.

+ 50% clean lineart - I will add a clean lineart like my avatar in the comm sheet above.

+ $5 simple background - It will be as simple as the ones you see on my comm sheet.

+ 50% detailed background - While I do not have samples on hand, these backgrounds will be referenced and hand-drawn like your character. Not applicable for outfits or customs.

- 50% sketch - For half the price, I will give you a clean sketch.

???% complexity fee - Depending on how detailed your piece will be, I will add to or subtract from your total cost.

Nope List

This includes things I will outright refuse to draw. The short of why is confidence, faster turnaround time, prevention of burnout, and a wish to show my folks my work.

Feral and mecha

Background only

Romance and sexual

Semi and full nudity

Gore and body horror

Hate and political art

Select fan content

► COMMISSION PROCESS

If you are interested in a commission, please DM me! You may provide as many or as little references as you got, since I can work with or without them. I will also give you an estimate final price and due date.

Once I agree to take the commission, your piece will go through 4 phases:

Sketch - You will have 2 or 3 rough sketches to give you an idea of what I will draw. Pick from the sketches for me to render, or suggest one (1) completely new posing idea.

Blocking Render - The sketch you choose will be cleaned and its pose/s fixed.

Color Render - The lineart will now have colors, highlights, and shadows.

Final Render - A final few layers of effects will be added to the piece.

My turnaround time for a piece is about 3-8 business hours (2-3 days) from the time you approve a sketch.

During the blocking and color render stage, I will provide an update during which to let you know how far along I am. You may request up to 3 major revisions during which. Major revisions include:

Pose

Hairstyle

Outfit

Composition

However, once your piece reaches the final render stage, I will only entertain minor revisions. Minor revisions include:

Color corrections

Brightness/contrast

Basically anything you can do on your first photo editor software

During the commission process, please feel free to bump your message, reach out for concerns, or chat a bit if you'd like! You will be informed of estimated dates of completion, delays, and other concerns.

However, harassment over my work speed, art style, and terms of service will not be tolerated and result in your piece getting deprioritized, put on hold, or cancelled without a refund. The same applies for when you cease communication with me within one month without prior notice.

While I draw during nighttime, I have my DMs open during the day. I officially take Sundays and Mondays off, so inquiries during this period will be ignored until Tuesdays.

► PAYMENT

My payment channels are through Paypal (international) and GCash (Philippines) only. My prices already cover Paypal and other fees, so the price I charge is the money you pay.

I will expect 50% payment from the time of acceptance until the sketch stage. Please note that until I get the initial payment, your commission will be put on hold.

I will expect the other 50% when I give the final render. Tips are not mandatory, but they are appreciated. Failure to pay the other 50% will result in a ban.

Special Prices:

You can pay 200% of the price upfront for a priority order, provided that you inform me of a reasonable due date.

You can avail a kababayan discount if you pay with GCash.

Refund Policy

You are eligible for refunds provided that:

We had a conversation

I agreed to the commission

You already paid

You are not harassing me, and

A desire to cancel from either you (prior to being given sketches) or me (at any given point in time).

► USAGE TERMS

The act of commissioning me means that you have read and agreed to my usage terms.

I retain the rights to publish commissioned pieces on my social media and portfolios, unless discussed beforehand. I also reserve the right to decline a commission for any reason.

Commissioned pieces may be posted on your social media and other online galleries. For credits, please use "AnneLaurant" or "annelaurant.tumblr.com". Credits are appreciated but not mandatory.

Commissioned pieces and in-progress previews will be hosted on my end up until 1 month from the time I finish a piece. By agreeing to this, it will be assumed that I can delete these works from my storage and you have retrieved and hosted your commissioned piece on your storage.

Commissioned pieces can be requested to be put under an NDA. You must state this prior to the sketch stage. Failure to state this intent means that you agree to have your commissioned piece automatically published on my socials.

Commissioned pieces by default is assumed to be for personal use only and therefore will come with my watermark. You may not remove this watermark in any form of image editing, e.g. cropping, erasing, superimposition, photomanipulation, etc.

Commissioned pieces without my watermark can be requested. Failure to state this intent means that you agree to have your commissioned piece automatically published with my watermark.

Art commissions for commercial use is subject to discussion and a commercial use fee of additional 100-200% of the original price.

Use of commissioned pieces as your "own work" will result in a ban.

Use of commissioned pieces for resale, NFTs and crypto, and data asset training will result in a ban.

Use of commissioned pieces to promote hateful and inappropriate behavior will result in a ban.

If you received a ban, your commissioned pieces may be subject to removal from my socials and portfolios.

If you have commissioned me prior to an update of the usage terms, the new terms will still apply - with very rare and limited exceptions.

#commission #commissions open #commission sheet #art commissions #open commissions #annelaurant art

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asamiontop · 2 years

Text

Part 1

Part 2:

Lena is miserable.

She and Kara… they had… a moment. A thrilling, knee-weakening few seconds, thick with a promise worth obsessing over. But then they ignored it for the rest of the day.

Or so Lena has tried. After Kara left to dispatch a quick emergency, Lena hefted what remained of her fractured focus onto her assignment.

But she’s a dweller. A thinker. Every time her work or her eyes wander down towards the bottom half of Supergirl’s new threads, Lena’s thoughts dissipate into a lovesick, hopeful mush of less-than-appropriate daydreams.

She heats up without fail each time her concentration slips. Her cheeks flame and her heart does its happy little Kara dance and Lena has to count breaths through her nose to calm herself down. And now that Kara has returned, Lena inevitably glances up to find the superhero side-eyeing her with some sort of sexy smirk from wherever she hovers about the Tower. As if she knows precisely when Lena is spiraling about her.

Damn that finely tuned superhearing.

Mercifully, a minor breakthrough distracts her for the remainder of the afternoon. Chasing a lead, Lena’s focus transforms from wobbly to unshakable. She’s been unmovable for who-knows how many hours now.

That is, until two warm hands fit themselves around her waist and the radiating body of a Kryptonian molds itself to her back. Lena barely has time to startle before a delicious tingle trickles down her spine.

“Lena.” Kara sighs her name like end of a long work day. Which Lena supposes it was. Kara hooks her chin over Lena’s shoulder and it’s innocent but their bodies are suddenly—so close together. “Hi.”

Gathering composure takes a beat longer than normal under these circumstances, but Lena manages.

“Hello, darling.”

The term of endearment isn’t exactly new. The way Kara hums her approval is, however. Hope thumps loudly in Lena’s chest.

“Mmm, hi,” Kara repeats, tilting her head sideways to rest against Lena’s. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Not bad,” Lena lies, as if schooling her erratic heart rate hadn’t been her primary focus for far too many hours. “I developed a way to maximize the resistance of the supersuit without compromising mobility by modifying the weave pattern of the fibers.”

“You’re amazing.” The super grin tucked beside Lena’s skin feels nothing short of genuine.

Lena’s smile is reflexive. They’re close enough that her scrunched up cheek makes contact with Kara’s. She swallows hard and takes a breath.

“It’s mostly geometry,” she demurs. “Math. A computer could do it. As a matter of fact, I’ve written a program to identify the strongest pattern and cross-reference the results against flexibility and mass calculations to find an optimum. It can run overnight and tomorrow morning we should have a feasible pattern to fabricate the suit design I sketched up.”

“Cool beans,” Kara nods distractedly. She takes a deep, lazy breath. “Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Aw, why?” Kara’s pout makes itself known near Lena’s cheek and erases all logical responses Lena might have had to the question.

“It’s not finished yet,” is the best Lena’s got.“Once we have the pattern selected tomorrow, I’ll generate a rendering to show you. It’ll be more representative.”

“Hm,” Kara considers for a moment, lifting her chin off Lena. When she relents, her head drops back to where she’d rested it against Lena’s cheek. “Okay, I guess.”

Smiling fondly, Lena doesn’t expect Kara to bring it up quite so seamlessly. “You kept the boots though?”

Lena chokes. Partially due to Kara’s question but mostly because Kara chooses that exact moment to splay her hands wide over Lena’s waist and press in deliciously with her fingers.

It’s enough to make Lena go temporarily limp.

“I did,” she finally succeeds in saying.

Kara releases a breath that feels suspiciously like a sigh of relief. It catches Lena by surprise. With that brain-melting confidence, Lena had assumed Kara knew exactly what she was doing, flirting like she had. And maybe she does know. But perhaps she, just like Lena, is more invested than she let on. And maybe a little nervous, too.

Endeared, Lena tips her head sideways, reciprocating the way Kara leans into her temple.

“Of course I kept them,” Lena adds carefully, achingly soft. It’s more confession than anything and Kara responds in kind.

“That’s good,” she whispers. Her chest expands on a breath and Lena feels it against her back. Kara turns her head a few degrees and her nose brushes Lena’s cheek. “That’s really good.”

It is, Lena thinks, if her actions inspire Kara to touch her like this. Keeping the boots is the single greatest thing she’s ever done.

“Wouldn’t want you to lose interest,” Kara murmurs boldly, nosing along Lena’s cheekbone and letting her lips carelessly caress Lena’s skin.

Lena reckons her heartbeat must be close to blowing out Kara’s eardrums by now. But the Super seems unfazed, content to keep their faces connected in the most devastating approach to intimacy Lena’s ever experienced.

She wants to answer with something equally brave, a declaration sweeping enough to make Kara understand just how much Lena loves her. Impossible, she wants to say. I could never.

But her vocal chords won’t cooperate, seeing as they can’t choose between forming words or a garbled whimper.

“Unlikely,” is all she manages in the end, and the word crumbles apart on a quiet gasp when the tip of Kara’s reaches the shell of her ear.

Kara hums again, low and pleased, and her confidence is back in full force. Lena finds herself struggling. Struggling to breathe, struggling to remain on her feet, struggling to keep herself from moaning outright and rocking backwards into the cradle of Kara’s hips. It’s all so difficult. Like her brain and motor functions are wading through honey.

“Lena.” Kara’s whisper drips into her bloodstream, her name an exaltation all on its own. Lena’s drunk on it, beyond recovery. Her head drops back, lolling into the hypnotic heat between them.

“Are you done for the day?” Kara asks in that very same tone.

And it makes Lena want to cry because she definitely isn’t. Every cell in her body aches to dissolve into Kara until she’s utterly consumed, except Lena Luthor is not actually capable of leaving her work unfinished.

“Not quite,” she very nearly cries. “I have a few lines of code left to write.”

“I can wait,” Kara offers magnanimously, an implication heavy in the unsaid. Lena wilts with relief.

She nods once and, more courageously than she could ever expect to be, requests, “Don’t go anywhere.”

Kara grins against her. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Lena’s slower to finish than she would like, but it’s hard to complain with Kara wrapped around her like cling film. The Kryptonian has moved her hands and mouth to far less distracting locations, which affords Lena some of her focus back.

Kara’s periodically helpful, softly reminding Lena to remember a semicolon here, reference a variable there. She prods gently each time, her throat bobbing where her chin is propped on Lena’s shoulder.

Soon enough Lena’s finished and putting the computer to sleep. Then she’s turning in the loose circle of Kara’s arms, her composure hanging by a thread, and gazing upward into fond, expectant blue eyes.

“Hi,” Kara greets her.

“Hello,” Lena purses her lips to keep from smiling.

“I’m glad you’re done.” It’s inane but lovable and Lena hums in agreement. Then Kara bows her head, nosing forward and cutting the space between their faces in half. Suddenly Lena can feel her breath in more ways then one and she’s back to the mess she’d been.

“And…” Kara inhales and her lips quirk sideways, coy and cute. Her cockiness is nowhere to be found; it has been replaced by the guileless, earnest Kara who holds just as much sway over Lena’s heart.

“… I’m glad you like my boots,” Kara says sheepishly.

Kara’s timidness gives way to Lena’s boldness.

“I like more than just the boots, darling.”

Lena smiles and allows one of her hands to float up to Kara’s chest. She extends her fingers until they nudge the clasp of Kara’s cape.

“Yeah?” Kara murmurs in wonder. Her arms tighten around Lena’s waist.

“Yeah,” Lena breathes, lost in the sight of her fingertips tracing inward, dipping along Kara’s collar. She’s enthralled by the elegant column of Kara’s neck and can’t help but reach for it when that proud throat works.

The pads of Lena’s fingers graze Kryptonian skin—so sinfully soft—and Lena loses her breath at the way Kara shivers for her. She can’t help but repeat herself. “Yeah.”

“Lena?” Kara ventures. She sounds affected. Lena is distracted by Kara’s crest rising and falling under her palm, but the warmth of Kara’s breath seizes her attention. She glances up and finds Kara closer than before, watching intently, a hopeful smile curling at the corners of her mouth. Their eyes lock and that smile grows. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

“God yes.” It’s more of a plea than an answer and Kara grants Lena’s wish with fervor.

Nearly lost between the press of Kara’s palms on her cheeks and Kara’s lips on hers, a tiny quip reaches Lena’s ears.

“Rao, Lena,” Kara gasps, diving in for another kiss before she can finish her thought. “If it’s gonna make you let me touch you like this, you can design my supersuit however you want.”

The comment is swept away as Kara crowds Lena against the edge of her desk and pins her there with the pressure of her hips.

But the next afternoon, when Lena is wearing a turtleneck to cover up the evidence of Kara’s exuberance, she shows the superfriends a rendering of a suit complete with an entirely sleeveless top for Supergirl. One which would leave Kara’s arms on mouthwatering display.

Realization is slow to reach Kara, but the shoe drops when Alex gripes about the impracticality of such a wardrobe choice for a superhero.

“And let’s not forget the increased vulnerability, Lena. Honestly, I’m surprised you would even consider—”

Understanding sparks between them when Kara’s eyes jump to hers. Lena gives herself away with a slow, sultry smirk. Kara grins back, clearly thrilled by this turn of events, and they’re only broken out of their silent flirtation by Alex’s exclamation.

“Oh come on!” They glance up to find Alex gesturing wildly between them, her face a scowl of dawning comprehension and utter disgust. “Seriously?!”

Part 1

#the boots!#continued #part 2 #supercorp #ficlet

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