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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months

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more gf ethan

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Enjoy!

Games like these are my favorite to read. If you have any fic recommendations, let me know

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

After binging all the Stab movies, you found a new kink to add to your list. Some would say it’s a little dark and twisted, but you didn’t care. Ethan was willing to play and that’s all that mattered.

‘’What am I gonna do with you?’’ Ethan asked, his pretty face covered with a Ghostface mask as he sat over your hips with the blunt side of his knife right under your chin.

You feigned fear and innocence with your eyes as you looked back at him. ‘’Are you going to kill me, Mr. Ghostface?’’

The knife pressed harder on your skin, forcing you to tilt your chin up as he shook his head slowly. ‘’You’re too pretty to end up gutted like a fish.’’

Ethan slid his other hand up the surface of your stomach, following the path to your breasts. You were visibly not wearing a bra, the peak of your nipples showing through the material and making Ethan grunt under his mask. Unable to resist, he rubbed his thumb over a nipple and pinched it.

He pulled down the neckline, his palm closing around one bare breast. ‘’Mmh, that’s a nice pair of tits you have there.’’ You arched into his rough caress, a surprised yelp slipping when he slapped it. Ethan watched as it bounced, a red mark appearing on your skin. ‘’I bet they’ll look pretty when they bounce as I pound into your tight little pussy.’’

You whimpered at the words, your core aching at the anticipation of him stretching you, filling you all the way up.

‘’You want that?’’ he asked, rocking his lower body against you, making you feel his erection in his pants. ‘’You want my big cock to destroy your little pussy?’’

A wicked grin curled on your lips with a matching gleam in your eyes. ‘’Yes.’’ You wanted his naked body rubbing against yours. You wanted him inside you…with the costume on. ‘’Please fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.’’

Ethan’s cock swelled at your request and he dropped his knife, snapping out of character. It was difficult for him to stay in his act when all he wanted to do was to drop his pants and let you use him, but he agreed to play.

He took a deep breath and returned into character. ‘’Let’s play a game first.’’ Ethan picked his knife back and spinned with agility. ‘’I’m gonna ask a trivia question and if you answer right, I’ll give you what you want. If not…I’m gonna grab a fistful of your hair and force my cock down your throat like you're my little bitch and have you choke on it.’’

In all honesty, you didn’t mind any of those situations. You’ll take his cock whichever way he gave it to you.

You moaned softly and nodded.

Under his shy and dorky appearance, Ethan had a mouth for dirty talking. He didn’t look like he’d be this way, but it’s always the quiet ones, right? He could have you a needy whimpering mess and nearly coming from him just using his words on you.

‘’First question. What does the demon that possesses the little girl in The Exorcist tells the priest when he tries to exorcise her?’’

They do quite a bit of talking in the movie, but if Ethan picked this question, you figured there must be one particular line he wanted you to say. You raked your brain, then it hit you. Ethan always quotes that part when you watch it together and it cracks the both of you up.

‘’Your mother sucks cocks in hell!’’

Ethan slowly lifted his hand to run the tip of his knife across your cheek. ‘’Now, now, that's not a way to talk about my dead mother…’’

You quickly corrected yourself. ‘’No! I’m not saying— Reagan! That's what she tells the priest!’’

Ethan brought a finger to your lips, shutting you up. ‘’I know.’’ He wanted to kiss you, but resisted and dragged his knife down your chest, running it down your cami and tearing it in half, exposing the rest of your upper half to him. ‘’Do I have to do it with these too?’’ He tapped his knife over your panties.

Feeling the cool metal through the lace, your breathing started to speed up and you pressed your thighs together, turned on by the act.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #scream 6 imagines #scream 6 #scream

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heytheredelulu · 28 days

Text

First Thor movie baby Loki and his bestie getting into a fight and finally addressing the tension between them has been sitting in my drafts for months so sure, why not?

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as his grip tightened around your throat. “You truly believe that after all this time I would feel nothing for you?” You gasped out in frustration.

His thumb twitched against your jaw as he cocked his head inquisitively and his grip loosened slightly allowing you to draw in a deep breath. His touch sent your pulse quickening with such ferocity that you were sure he could feel it beating in his grasp. Swallowing hard against his palm in anticipation of his answer to your next question, you speak in a low whisper. “And after all this time do you truly feel nothing for me?”

His mouth parted slightly and you almost think you hear a shudder escape his taut lips. Slowly, his hand snakes upward to tilt your chin down to meet his gaze. You carefully study his emerald eyes and the small flecks of gold that litter his irises.

“Feel nothing for you?” He questions, his voice almost hoarse. You felt the grip of his hand on your jaw tighten and your body tense in response, suddenly aware of how large his hands were and how small and vulnerable you felt in their grasp. His eyes flashed with recognition as if he felt the fear rising within you and with a hard swallow, his grip slackened.

He drew in a deep breath and held it for several heartbeats before letting it go in a long, trembling exhale as he gently ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “Feel nothing for you?” He repeats in a pained tone, almost as if he cannot believe you’ve asked such a thing. “For as long as I can remember I have yearned for you.” He whispers harshly. “Everyday that I am in your presence my very soul aches with a desire that I had never known before I met you.”

He stepped forward to close the small gap between you, outstretching his left hand to find yours and bring it to rest against his chest. You can feel his heart thundering in his chest under your fingertips while his right hand continues to cup your cheek in a soft caress and as his eyes pin you under their intense gaze, he opens his mouth to speak again.

“Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve lay awake plagued with thoughts of you?” Hesitation momentarily flashes across those emerald eyes as he searches your face for an answer. He lets his lids flutter closed and swallows hard and when eyes open again they’re ablaze with pure unbridled lust.

He towers over you, his height easily a foot taller than your own and he’s leaned down so close now that his nose nearly touches yours. His sudden nearness causes your breath to catch and take a small step backwards, feeling your back collide with the marble wall. Your lips part slightly with intention to speak but his scent overwhelms you and the words are lost in your throat.

“Yes. Those thoughts.” He continues, positioning his large hands on each side of your head, palms flat against the stone. His words rose from his throat in a growl, “The things I wonder.” He mewls, his soft lips grazing your skin as they glide up the expanse of your jaw line. His breath is warm against your ear and he whispers, “How your skin would feel against my own.”

The words spark a flame low in your abdomen and a small whimper escapes you as his forehead dips enough to nuzzle against your temple.

“How you would sound as you come undone for me in the throes of your ecstacy.” Your cheeks flush hot in response to his brazen confession and you look up at him through your lashes, your eyes half-lidded.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson #marvel loki #baby loki #young loki

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

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Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

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sfehvn · 4 months

Text

new religion part 7

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! This has been sitting in my drafts half-done for a looong time. Hope you enjoy! Xx

Rating: M (18+ minors DNI)

CW: Pregnancy

Word count: 2,347

Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The agony that coursed through cold veins was not unfounded. Astarion watched on with helpless eyes as you lay in bed, your condition only worsening through the days that had passed. Skin that had previously whispered the touch of light seemed much paler than it had before this sickness befell you. Hadn’t it? Yes, he was certain of it. Deep bags kissed under your eyes like bruises of a cruel fate, hair once silken to the touch had become brittle and flat. An emaciated picture of what you had been just days prior lay curled on the bed. If Astarion hadn’t known better, he would assume you hadn’t moved at all from your position since climbing into that bed after returning from the boutique. He had been the one to force you to bathe and stroll through the garden; of course you’d moved. The pain hung deep in his stomach but he refused to let it take him prey. What you were experiencing was far worse than any discomfort he may be feeling.

Three days.

It had only been three days, yet it felt like an eternity. It felt as if he had borne witness to your undoing in such a mercilessly short amount of time. A sadistic reminder of how fragile mortals were. Of how fragile his flower was. How barbarous the outcome; Astarion finally felt so deeply for a being other than himself, only to have it ripped away from tightly grasped hands. He had restrained the urge to maim and destroy you, allowed his love for you to flourish in its haste, yet had still proved to be your inevitable downfall. The wretched thing dwelled in your womb. The disgust ebbed and flowed deep in his gut. All the while he knew the culprit of your condition; he wouldn’t dare utter a word until it had been confirmed. An unspoken battle; should he be forthright with the circumstance? No doubt you would wish to brave the godsforsaken gestation, your longing for motherhood had been made abundantly clear. Stubbornness had been one of the many traits that had made Astarion’s unbeating heart grow fonder of you; in this plight, it very well may be your undoing.

From Astarion’s peripheral, a chambermaid enters the room, awaiting permission to address him. He nods silently in approval, eyes never leaving your debilitated form. “Master, he is here. Shall I see him here?”

His eyes falter from you to glance at the thrall. “You may. Clear the halls on your way out. I expect not a single interruption from anyone while he works. I trust you’ll let the others know of the agonizing centuries to follow if my request is disobeyed.” Though his voice was firm, there was a hint of fear masked beneath the threats. Fear of what fate awaits his lover, fear of what has yet to come, fear of the unknown.

“Yes, master.” She agreed before swiftly seeing her way out. There were no games when it came to Astarion and she did not wish to be in his line of fire if the matter at hand didn’t resolve to his liking.

Astarion steps up to the bed, stroking disheveled pieces of hair from your sunken face. “He is here, my treasure.” Soft words were met with a weak nod, eyes shut in an attempt to stop the spinning you felt in your head. An unwelcome thought made its way into his mind, which he hastily pushed down as far as he could. A corpse you began to resemble.

A tall lanky man makes his entrance. Dressed in a robe that looked centuries too old, wiry hair wisped from the sides of a misshapen ignoble hat, and shoes that seemed to be worn through the soles. He looked every bit a beggar who Astarion would pay no mind to under typical circumstances. Magic radiated in powerful lulls from the stranger, an aura of importance despite his unseemly appearance. “Sir Ancunin, a pleasure.” The man regards him nasally, though his eyes are fixed on you. They seemed to scatter over your frail body in assessment. “May I?”

Edvund Luoguarde. Every piece of unbiased literature regarding dhampirs Astarion had managed to scrounge up had been written by the man in front of him. Not a stone was left unturned in search of the scholar; all the while he had been holed up in a makeshift home on the edge of Rivington. The notoriety Edvund possessed had not affected his simple way of life. It was something Astarion might have found humor in if he had come across the strange man under different conditions. The man slinks towards the bed once Astarion approves, lips pursed as he looms over your unmoving figure.

“Poor child, barely hanging by a thread.” Edvund muses out loud. While there is empathy in his words, the firmness spoke to the weight they held. Astarion eyes his hand cautiously as it comes to hover over your midsection. “I will need her on her back.” He states. “Are you able to move, dear?”

Your eyes open barely a sliver in response. You open your mouth to respond but your voice is lost to the dry ache in your throat and on your tongue. Looking to Astarion in a silent bid for help, he obliges by carefully moving your body into position.

“This will do nicely. You’re doing wonderful, dear.” Edvund reassures. He places his hand on your clothed stomach, a pale blue light illuminating from his palm. His eyes bear the same blue light as he stares distantly at the wall. “Very interesting.” He murmurs after a few minutes pass, but does not remove his hand. It shifts purposefully from your sacrum up towards your ribcage. It was a brief moment of relief, as if whatever magic he yielded offered numbing to the visceral blows you had been experiencing.

Edvund removes his hand and the light in his eyes flickers in tandem. “You would be wise to rest while you can.” He pats the hand that lay lifelessly at your side. Unsure if it was a trance or from the fleeting comfort you finally had after three days of torture, you drifted away. The man turns his attention to Astarion once he’s sure you’re asleep. “A dhampir of not one, but two.” He riddles. “To be born of fruitful womb and abject seed. To shed light as great as thee.”

“What in the hells are you saying?” Astarion’s brow creased. It seemed more likely that Edvund was reciting poetry rather than providing a diagnosis.

“A dhampire of not one but two; to be born of fruitful womb, abject seed. To shed light as great as thee. Cast darkness into light, and light into lead. A union thick as thieves.” His hands move in an unfounded performance, fingers coming to lock in front of his chin once he is finished. “A prophecy greater in age than you or I.” He clarified, bringing his hands to rest on the edge of the bed. “It was foretold a pair of dhampirs would be born to a pure soul and a heinous….” He trails, eyeing Astarion before continuing. “They will materialize to our plane of existence. The gods have willed it so and so it will be.”

“Are you suggesting there are two?” Astarion’s jaw clenched as he eyes Edvund. “Remove them.”

“I cannot.” Edvund was unphased by Astarion’s aggressive demand, instead he stared him down with the same determined look in response.

“You will. This will kill her. Are you mad?”

“She will recover.” Edvund muses, looking back down at your sleeping form; no doubt the most divine rest you’ve had in your life with the help of his own magic.

Astarion steps around the foot of the bed, making his way toward the man with a fire blazing in his red eyes. Edvund glances at him, whispering a quiet incantation that seemingly relaxed every nerve in Astarion’s body. In a daze, he sits limply in the chaise at the end of the bed. He felt powerless. For the first time in his many years, he was indeed. Completely, utterly, entirely not in control.

Edvund steps in front of him, crouching until he is eye-to-eye with him. “You’ve felt this is destiny, yes? You and the girl?”

Astarion feels that blaze return, but it is quickly simmered once more. Edvund effortlessly defies his rage, pouring his own magic into keeping Astarion sedated. “Get out of my head.” Astarion murmurs, gritting his teeth uncomfortably.

Edvund proceeds; he already knew the answer to his question. “You do not want to anger the gods, Sir Ancunin. This has been foretold. Of course, nothing is stopping you from finding someone else to get the job done; I for one will have no part of it. I’d rather not deal with the wrath of any all powerful deity, let alone all of them. I suggest you heed this warning. It will not be pretty if you interfere.” He purses his lips tightly, furrowing his fluffy brows together as he speaks.

Astarion’s mind felt convoluted as the reality of the situation weighed heavy on his shoulders. This was bigger than you or him, but he refused to stand by and watch you crumble.

The air in the room hung heavy with the weight of destiny as Astarion grappled with the revelation. Edvund's cryptic warnings and the ominous prophecy left Astarion torn between the fate dictated by higher powers and the desperate need to protect you. The clash of emotions within him mirrored the conflict that unfolded in the dimly lit chamber.

Astarion's eyes, once ablaze with defiance, now flickered with uncertainty as he considered the implications. The revelation of a dual heritage, the prophecy, and the insistence on non-interference pressed upon him. Yet, the fierce love he felt for you surged as a counterforce, compelling him to challenge the preordained path.

The room bore witness to a silent struggle—one man navigating the treacherous waters of divine prophecy, the other tethered to the mortal realm by love's unyielding grip. As Edvund continued his mystical work, Astarion's internal turmoil mirrored the external tension, a tempest brewing in the shadow of fate.

In the midst of this cosmic chess game, your frail form lay suspended, caught between realms. A pawn in a game played by unseen hands, her fate intricately woven into the fabric of prophecy. The dichotomy of despair and determination etched across Astarion's face painted a poignant picture of a soul at war with itself.

The room, once a sanctuary for quiet moments and stolen glances, now bore witness to a profound struggle that transcended the mortal and the divine. It was a clash of wills, a dance of destiny, and a tableau of emotions that would shape the course of lives entwined in a tapestry woven by forces beyond mortal comprehension.

“The gods have orchestrated this all, Astarion.” Edvund loosened the invisible grip he had on Astarion, allowing a sliver of distance between them as he stood. “I’d heard of you, you know. The ruthless vampire lord.” Edvund quirks his head. He didn’t need to say it aloud as it was unspoken; love had made Astarion soft in a lot of ways. Specifically for you, but for the way you lived life as well. The way you simply loved.

For a brief moment, Astarion wondered if you would have been anything more than a meal and quick fuck without the interference of higher powers. He couldn’t dwell on the thought, though. It made him sick to think about.

Edvund's words cut through the tangled web of Astarion's conflicted thoughts. The acknowledgment of his reputation as a ruthless vampire lord served as a stark reminder of the life he led before you entered it. The juxtaposition of his past and the vulnerability that love had brought forth in him loomed over the room.

As Astarion grappled with the unsettling realization, Edvund's gaze lingered on him, a silent understanding passing between them. The enigmatic scholar seemed to grasp the intricacies of Astarion's transformation, not just as a vampire but as a being touched by the profound force of love.

“I hope you don’t mind, I’m not really in the mood for chit chat.” Astarion replied back coldly, his eyes stone as he looked at Edvund. Edvund held his hands up in a show of understanding.

“I’d better get going. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but see to it that she rests adequately. There will be days where she feels like she can conquer the world, but she mustn’t overexert herself.” Edvund states as he walks towards the door. He leaves with a parting reassurance. “She will live. The gods are not as cruel as you would believe them to be right now.”

With that, Astarion sat alone. The air hung thick with magic and tension.

Astarion's gaze remained fixed on your slumbering form, the delicate rise and fall of your chest a comfort amidst the tumult within him. The cold, stoic exterior he had worn for centuries cracked, revealing the vulnerability that love had etched into his undead heart.

As he sat in the quiet chamber, a myriad of emotions churned within Astarion—fear, love, defiance, and an unsettling acceptance of the cosmic forces at play. The room, once a witness to stolen moments of intimacy, now bore witness to a solitary figure grappling with the intricacies of mortality and the influence of gods.

Time seemed suspended in that moment, the force of the future pressing down on Astarion. The journey ahead, fraught with uncertainties and divine machinations, loomed large. Yet, in the hushed solitude of the room, Astarion found a quiet resolve to face the impending challenges.

The vampire lord, once driven solely by self-preservation, now stood on the precipice of a destiny entwined with love and sacrifice. As the shadows deepened and the room embraced its newfound solitude, Astarion remained a sentinel, guarding not only the frail form on the bed but also the fragile threads of a fate spun by gods themselves.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #x reader #bg3 #tav #reader #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended!astarion x tav

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elvisalltheway101 · 4 months

Text

•••••••My Sweet Remedy••••••

Summary: It’s the second part of my piece, Crimson & Clover. Weeks after his little dirty moment, he’s found with the same ache again. With you by his side, he cautiously tries to relieve it himself. Only for you to wake up, and help him out.

Author’s note: Since everybody seemed to like it, and especially @60svintage who motivated and helped me out with this! So mwah and also big thank you to her. This is so random, but this has literaly been sitting in my drafts since last year. And I’ve got proof:

Author wont shut up just yet: so like literally guys…I’m sorry 😭. I also noted that he was a leg and ass man, SO I WENT ALL OUT WITH THIS. I’ve also haven’t really seen like doing stuff with thighs or legs sexually around tumblr so here we are. It’s definitely not gonna be as popular or good as the first version, but when I say I’m gon write a second part. I’m gon write it. You guys also gon be really surprised but I was listening to this while writing this 😭👀

But uhhh anyway, let’s enjoy this feast. Shall we?

warnings: masturbating, reader watches elvis a widdle bit, thigh fucking, thoughts about ass licking, spitting, rubbing on clit with cock tip…yippee kiyay folks. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Ever since that embarrassing night, where his parents and you had woken up from him jerking off too loudly, he hasn’t tried anything. But did he regret it? Not for a minute.

He turns his head as his hand continues to bob and pump his cock fast and raw. As his cock strains and hardens more and more as every second goes pass and the veiny hand that’s wrapped around his shaft, he can help the groans that push outta those lips.

His eyes flutter close to just imagine her delicious swell of an ass. He’s surprised at what his kind wanders off to. He’s always been a guy for ass but what he wishes his tongue to do startles the man a bit.

He thinks pressing his warm tongue onto that little untouched hole. The hole that’s covered and protected by them precious ass cheeks.

To just graze his tip against your clenched, pink little ass hole. Just once. And to cum on that pretty soft squishy belly of yours.

He whimpers softly, pressing two of his long fingers to shut his lips before making further noises. With only you and him in the house, he’s not too worried. But you were overly tired before you tucked into bed, so he doesn’t wanna wake you.

Yup, and that’s exactly what he did. Your body shifts slightly and groans groggily from sleep. Blinking your eyes a little bit, you gasp softly at the sight beside you.

Your eyes travel from his tanned feet, gliding up to see his blue and white striped pajama pants that’s halfway down his thick, firm and tense thighs. Your eyes widen when you see his hand working up and down his red and slightly pink cock, that has his arousal dribbling down his fist. Continuing your eyes up to see his shirt half unbuttoned from the bottom and revealing his sweaty damp and heaving lower belly. His happy trail that’s dark and a thin line from his itty bitty belly button to the pubic curls that surrounds his manhood and is where his wrist lays.

When Elvis finally stops his fist and huffs in frustration at the tiring handy work, he’s upset that he hasn’t cum yet. He can feel it bubbling up in the pit of that tan and decorated of dark locks belly of his, but it just ain’t doing it. He sighs in tiresome and leans his head back, gasping in shock as he sees the fluttering of your long lashes batting up to meet his blue eyes.

“Baby, w-what. H-how long have you been awake?” He furrows his eyebrows and wipes his sweaty palms on his chest and doesn’t bother to cover himself. You shrug and hum a soft yawn. “Just now…E, if you wanted to have fun tonight, how come you didn’t wake me?” You whisper and raise a brow. He shrugs and bites his lip, “I jus’ didn’t wanna. You were tired as it is.” He admits and sighs out.

You smile at his love and care, but you look back down at his throbbing manhood that wags pathetically. His tip grazes onto his heaving belly with every shallow breath he takes. “Well now I’m up and awake, c’mon now, let me help you relieve your ache. Like a good woman as I should.”

The moment you share smirks before you know it, his heavy length rests on your pubic mound. With your cute little white dress up to your perky breasts, he puckers his lips and tilts his chin down. You feel warm, glossy strings of his saliva run down your pussy lips. Dampening and wetting your inner thighs also to lubricant his near future thrusts.

With heavy pants and sighs, he takes a firm hold of his cock and presses gently to your sensitive nub. Tapping on it gently with a soft smirk at how your legs twitch slightly and your pussy pulses in his glistening spit.

Deciding to add onto the mess, he dribbled more spit of his touchy tip as he produces pre cum. Your intimate parts are a shiny mess. Pulling back his foreskin, he’s quick to slap your thighs together with his thick cock between.

His eyes roll to the back of his head at just the way his shaft sits so perfectly between your delicious thick thighs. He starts to thrust, hanging your calves to his shoulders.

He doesn’t leave you hanging of course, as he presses a small kiss to your ankle and then brings his lips to his finger and spits on it. Snaking his hand down to play and rub tight and fast circles on your clit. You body bounces up and down the matress with every thrust he makes. Soft whimpers leave your lips, until he can’t take it. Moving his hand from your clit to squeeze your thighs together and dig his nails into your soft skin. You watch as his tip peeks from between your sweet thighs, and chaff against your wiry, curly dark pubic hair.

One final hard thrust finishes him off, twitching uncontrollably as hot strings of his white cream coat your tummy. His eyes shut and he lets out a high-pitched moan, biting into your calf because the pleasure is just too much. But he loves it.

You forget about your own pleasure for now, watching him unravel at your body and touch.

Pulling back and glancing down at the glorious sight below him. Your belly has him on your skin, your legs bare and spread. He smirks a lazy one, and hums. Kneading the fat of your thigh with a pleasure sigh.

“My sweet sweet remedy, ain’t ya? Now, now, you know I won’t leave my baby hanging dry after that. Tsk, c’mon lemme treat ya.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••��•••••••••••

I hope enjoyed! I ain’t tryna make another part with my 15+ requests and shits in my drafts but I could! Anyway, chow y’all 🤪🥰

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #elvisaaronpresley #spotify #elvis fanfic #enjoy!#elvis Presley smut #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #70s Elvis #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis x reader smut

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susvale · 3 months

Text

M.I.A. Homelander X Reader X Steve Roger

Title: Missing In action

Pairings: Homelander X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Dark Steve x Reader, Dark Homelander x reader [Crossover]

Summary: You were an avenger, one of the more magic ones. People called your name in excitement and felt safe being around you, then thanos happened… when you weren’t snapped and after a police call you were somewhere else. Now all you know is there is a man with a cap calling himself Homelander calling himself “Americas Hero” and the world is different… is it isn’t so bad though.

I made this is 2022, It’s been sitting in my drafts for that long… so yeah!

[Part One] -> [Part Two]

It was overwhelming at times. Cameras in your face after a mission were you were left battered and bruised, nevertheless you smiled, you gave a proud smile to the reporters reporting. They had risked things coming here did it make your job harder, yes, the helicopters flying around while you try and fly. It added pressure to keep people in the air safe. At least you weren’t Steve, they made him do dumb shit, like that time he was in a Detention video spouting nonesense. You job was only to keep people safe. People may offer you movie rolls but you always decline, you weren’t an actor your a hero. Even if declining meant buying an okay-ish apartment with a broken Landry machine. You weren’t a millionaire, just a lady with the power to say “bang” and a mans head would explode if you wanted to. Even then, you had the option to live in Tony’s tower. Maybe then some random wouldn’t show up ever week looking to kill you. A sigh left your lips as you looked down at the TV, Thanos killed half the population and vanished. That is what’s in the News again. Men lost daughters, mothers lost sons but everybody lost someone. Even so it still stung he wouldn’t pick up your calls, you wanted to shout at him ‘your not dead yet and neither am I! stop ignoring me before one of those things change!’ Missions still came in, unsteady but they did come in.

“Maybe I should get a real job, part time.” You mumbled to yourself while you stared at the TV. Everyone you ever knew had distanced themselves or been snapped, maybe getting out would be good… people have been starting to expect that this is life, ‘maybe thanos was right my gym has been less crowded lately!’ Kinda people, jokes that might not be jokes anymore.

You still think about it, maybe he was right. It was horrible, you know. So many people lost and yet you didn’t lose anyone significant, Bucky of course but you were only just starting to get to know him… Steve maybe but you could still see him, feel him breathe, he didn’t get snapped. He was just distance, like he wished he did get snapped…

Witch hurt…

You didn’t have a family, friends outside of the avengers, hell you never had a boyfriend before Steve. How could you? Caged and trained like a dog, feed needles and pills like food. Given faces and names to quietly kill, you never had your own name till the avengers… Y/N… it was a nice name though. you named yourself off the first person you ever killed, you didn’t know if they would ever have agreed but they were dead… so it didn’t matter.

Steve and therapy, You remembered. Keep breathing don’t think about it. Or maybe it was think about it regret is good? Your therapist had been snapped so it’s been a while. The police called you once in and while about cases. Maybe answering back wouldn’t suck? You were lonely and bored, nothing to do then unsteady mission that lacked any sort of life.

Grabbing your phone you called a man. He was your contact to the police, you could never remember titles or anything like that but he was pretty high up.

“Thank god you called, you use to be so active I was starting to worry you got snapped too.” He joked, people cope with humor, you know that. Still, it irritated you that you and your friends put your life on the line and failed only to be joked about by people who didn’t know anything. Nevertheless, you gritted your teeth and held your tongue. “More and more people are disappearing��. We think it may be an aftershock effect of some kind.”

“I doubt it.” You mumbled to yourself, he didn’t hear you and went on about the investigation. A group of people who agreed with Thanos’s ideals has been here and there, left and right. They think a select group talking it too far and hurting or making more people disappear. That sounded more likely, he told you about peoples corpses. Looked like they had been shot with high power lasers, or they’re heads have been smashed in. They had a certain person in custody, maybe if you worked with them you could find a way to undo the snap? That’s what the officer proposed anyway. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, you would be their for the interview is what you told them.

You should call Steve. This looked like such an important case, he had to know people were making more people disappear… it could lead to something. He would want to know.

So you did call him. He didn’t answer, instead you were greeted by the all so familiar call after the beep speech. It was nicer then actually speaking to him nowadays, though. “Heya, it’s Steve. Leave a uh… voicemail..? After the beep? Did I do that right?” You’d hear him call to someone in the background, “yeah, other then forgetting what a voicemail was called.” You heard your own distant voice greet you, “Steve you have to-“ you were the last thing you hear as the beep signalled the end of the recorded ‘can’t get to you’ message.

A sigh left you when you realized you’d have to speak now, “Hey Steve, the police called me and they have a case of more disappearing people. A group of Thanos supporters popped up making even more people disappear.” You paused, “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in, might lead to something, heh… listen, I miss you, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I… can’t…” your voice trailed off, you breathed in deciding not to do this over a call. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Can’t make it too long.”

That’s right. You couldn’t keep the police waiting… So you grabbed your bag and left. Off to the police station.“Hey, we put the suspect in the interrogation room.” The man spoke, he opened the door to a standard interrogation room. Blue walls, four barely cushioned chairs and a table in the middle closet to a wall. The suspect looked like a regular man. You frowned.

This all felt too… cultish? It made you uncomfortable, the look in his eye. He looked at you like you were a god among men.

#homelander #homelander x reader #steve rogers #captain america x Reader #cross over #avengers endgame #the avengers #the seven #the boys #marvel

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espresso-lessdepresso · 1 year

Text

fluff

t/w: Distrust/Suspension, descriptive kiss and make out.

a/n:....so im alive and my exams didn't kill me ^^. but it did take me half a month to actually post something soooo~ anyways, I hope everyone is doing well and enjoy! This has been sitting in my drafts since November I feel like it could still be better but i don't know how T-T

Away from the chaos and social ramble of the Christmas gathering, Schlatt escaped into a faraway room on the second floor which happened to look like a small study. The walls adjacent to the door were lined with ceiling-length bookshelves, deep mahogany in colour, and in between one of the shelves was a fireplace. Dividing the room into two, there was an area for sitting, with a couch and coffee table in front of the fireplace, and there was an area for writing which had a large desk opposite to the couches. The balcony was visible through the sliding glass doors, it had upon it a thick layer of untouched snow.

It was easily brought to Schlatt's attention that even this room was not safe from holiday decoration; garlands lined the tops of the bookcases and alternating green and red stockings hung on the deck of the fireplace. The centre coffee table was decorated with for-show gift boxes wrapped in various colours. Even the scent of sugary Christmas treats and savoury snacks managed to sneak into the room.

Quietness filled the room, for the most part, Schlatt could only hear the low chatter of everyone speaking downstairs since most of it was drowned.

Though the holiday season was joyous and everyone gathered happily to mingle with one another, Schlatt found himself standing alone in the room farthest from everyone. There seemed to be a recurrence of Schlatt's tight-lipped frown and furrowed brows.

Standing turned into pacing.

And with pacing followed the feeling of uneasiness and doubt.

Schlatt was thinking, once again for the nth time this month, about you.

Your sly flirting and paying special attention towards Schlatt had not gone unnoticed. Your attempts had planted a seed of curiosity in him which slowly but surely blossomed into fondness. He himself was pleasantly surprised by this. Flattered even to the point of catching himself smiling like an idiot at the prospect of what could happen and where it could lead.

But these thoughts were short-lived as his mind too quickly was plagued with distrust.

Schlatt was deep in thought, trying to detangle his pasts from his present while staring out into the heavy snowfall. The wind carried the snow in fluffy white swirls. The door handle turned and he wasn't sure if you were the last person he wanted to see or the first. His thoughts were like a ball of yarn that fell prey to Jambo's paws.

"Hey."

Schlatt only nodded back at you, taking notice of the two mugs that you were holding and carefully walked in with.

"Not liking the party?" You asked, handing him a red mug of hot chocolate. The mug was piled with marshmallows and he distinctly remembered that there was a shortage of marshmallows in the kitchen. You must've saved some for him or gone to the extent of going out and buying some. Schlatt's fingers ever so slightly grazed yours and you wanted to make it last as long as you could, taking a step towards him... but within a split second, he retrieved his hand back awkwardly. He averted his attention to the books on the shelf.

Schlatt was wearing his usual clothes; a black sweatshirt with beige pants and white sneakers. He looked the furthest from having a festive spirit. His chestnut hair never failed to look soft, even when going through another phase of change.

Your gaze on him was gentle, done without realising it. Every time you looked at him, his features would captivate your attention; the way he’d fold his arms, furrowed his brows or the way his bottom lip would pout sometimes. Though it is impossible, you would admire him for hours if you could. Schlatt had somehow gotten used to it, the feeling of your eyes trained on him. He could almost always tell whenever you were looking at him. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, breaking the quiet.

Giving him a questioning look, your brows knit as you slightly shook your head. "What am I trying to do?"

"You know," Schlatt turned, "Your advances. Your sudden change in behaviour and your particular attention to me."

"Are they… unwelcomed?"

His face felt warm at the question. Schlatt huffed out in what seemed to be annoyance, "And that. All that endless teasing or whatever it is."

"I thought I was a bit more subtle with it but I guess..." You said more to yourself than him, shrugging in slight embarrassment. You placed your mug of hot chocolate down on the table and took a step closer to him. With the balcony to your side, you felt the slight chill of the weather passing through the glass doors. "So? Are you going to do anything with that information?"

The small curl of your lips made Schlatt's eyes narrow. The gaze they held- or rather the glare, was broken for a split second, looking away from you to the side. When his eyes drew back, you first thought that you saw anger in them but you quickly found it to be frustration. Indecisiveness even. "A fling? Like, is that what you're looking for?

"I'm actually not." You said, taken aback by his words. But not shaken. Have your actions not written everything out by now? You leaned on the glass door with your shoulder, the cold pressing through your sweater. "You think I'm a fling type of person?"

Schlatt again looked at you, between your eyes from left to right and back. Really searching for something. "I'm just...being careful."

"I'm looking for a lot more than just a fling." Sighing, you felt dejected. "I was." You tried to approach him slowly and revealed your likeness by one small fraction at a time. But for whatever reason, his walls seemed to only stand taller and guarded heavily. Looking down, your hope was slipping. With now a cold shoulder, you leaned off of the door to leave the room as well as Schlatt.

But catching you by surprise, Schlatt stepped in front of you. Not only did he block your path to the door but he had you standing between the glass door and himself, leaving as little as a few inches between you two. Schlatt raised one hand towards you and instinctively you took another step back and bumped into the glass. His fingers brushed against your hair as he plucked something out of it.

The absolute closeness and the tension of it had your nerves. Be it the way he looked at you or the pent-up longing you had harboured for him, words escaped your lips before you could stop them. "My feelings for you are genuine Schlatt. They," Your heart was beating up your throat "... are as exactly as I've shown them."

Held between his index finger and thumb was a red berry. You get caught off guard by it. Schlatt looked up and you followed his gaze. There were green branches, adorning long thin leaves and ruby red berries. Tied to the frame of the balcony door by a shimmering red ribbon was a small bouquet of mistletoe.

Without taking your eyes away from the berry caught between his fingers, you spoke, "Do I still have to say more?"

Your anticipation silenced and the distance between the two of you finally closed. His lips on yours were gentle. They barely even pressed down on yours. The timidness showed through as his hands remained where they were, even though they wanted to lace with yours or hang around your waist. It was as though he was testing the waters- making sure you were okay with this. Making sure he was okay with this. Schlatt looked for signs of discomfort, whether you wanted to stop, step back, or perhaps rethink your likeness of him. But you didn't. Eyes closed and hand moving to his chest on its own accord. You kissed him back, just as gently as he did.

Soft.

His lips were unusually soft. Yes you had imagined that they would be so but to actually feel them for the first time, your mind had stopped working. All you would focus on was the pressure of him on you.

Schlatt, having initiated the kiss first, was also the first to pull away. His habit of staring at you- into you, did not seem to cease. Looking into your eyes, looking for something- anything that could possibly hint or prove his suspicions to be true. But staring back at him was just you. You and your dilated pupils drawn on him showed only trust and honest intentions.

“If you try anything-” Schatt started.

“-Nothing you wouldn’t like.” your small voice retorted before he could finish. Your teasing once again brought out the redness of his face, along with your own this time. In a swift motion, Schlatt’s hand moved to flatten against the door with a thud. With his hand right next to your head, you felt even more enclosed than before. You had a way of getting on his nerves, without even trying

There was another beat of silence that filled the room. Schlatt remained in the same position, and so did you. Standing in each other's space, you were almost sharing the same breath. You had not realised but this single small kiss made your chest heave. You continued to heaven as you stared into Schlatt’s eyes. With such closeness, you swore they were a type of brown you had never seen. Unique and so deep, you felt being pulled into them.

Just then, slicing into the thick silence, a voice called out from you. One of your friends was looking for you and you could hear their footsteps in the hallway from inside the room. They were looking for you to help them with something.

Your attention diverted, you were about to call back to the voice, saying that you’ll be there just in a minute. But before you could do so, your lips were drawn and sealed with Schlatt’s. Again. What was different this time was that he did not hold back. That timidness he showed before had gone… It was replaced with some sort of fire.

The voice drifted away.

Schlatt pulled at you. Your voice of surprise was muffled by the way he kissed you. Your noses pressed into each other's faces. Taking another step forward, Schlatt had your back pressed on the glass. A shiver crawled up your back and you pushed away from it, in turn pressing into Schlatt’s broad figure. The hand beside your head cupped your face and his other hand finally got to hang on your waist. Your own hands were sitting on his shoulder and the nape of his neck. The way he led the kiss showed no signs of timidness. He led it with intention, lacking no passion.

A sort of fire kindled within him.

The heavy snowfall settled and the wind ceased to howl. Outside, past the glass doors of the balcony, the night sky was sprinkled with stars and the ground below, a blanket of white snow layed untouched. The weather would continue to be crisp and cold, but with what you ignited within Schlatt, you would be kept warm throughout your winter.

++++++

Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

masterlist

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction #schlattfanfic #schlatt fanfiction #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #schlatt imagine #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader

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thewolvesof1998 · 3 months

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Hi Wolf 💕💕💕

3 for Spotify wrapped writing prompts

Hi Saturn!!

Sorry this has been sitting in my drafts for so long, I was hoping to eventually add to it but I think if I do, it will be a while down the line so I might as well give you this snippet now!

This is from the Spotify wrapped writing prompts thingy.

So number three is Stick Season by Noah Kahan!

This snippet was inspired by:

And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose ... And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do My other half was you I hope this pain's just passin' through But I doubt it

“I couldn’t look at you, you were lying there with that tube in, and all I could think about is Shannon.”

“I’m not your dead wife,” Eddie flinches, Buck continues, “You-you made that perfectly clear.”

“No-no that’s not, I just…” Eddie trails off, his thoughts running a hundred mph making it hard to find the right words.

“Eddie, what are you trying to say?” Buck asks, sounding so defeated and heartbroken and Eddie did that. He needs to fix that.

“Chris can’t lose someone else.”

“Don’t.” Buck stands up, anger radiating off of him so quickly it steals his breath. Buck finger points at Eddie like he’s cursing him, “Don’t bring him into this, you know I would never leave him.”

“I know-I’m sorry-I” He runs a hand through his hair, unable to look at him, “I never been good at words.”

Buck snorts, “You don’t say.”

“Buck please, I’m trying to say we," he shakes his head, "I…I...” But the words won’t come out, caught somewhere between his heart and his vocal cords. His mouth opens and closes god knows how many times but the silence between them stretched out. He sees the final shred of hope fade from Buck’s blue eyes.

Buck makes a dismissive sound but in it Eddie can hear the shattering of his heart again, it’s a sound that shouldn’t be familiar but it is, “Goodbye Eddie.”

Eddie feels like he's splitting in half as he watches Buck take one step, then another and another until he's halfway to the door. Maybe this is for the best, his heart is already aching something fierce, so much so that he's struggling to breathe. This pain would be ten times worse if he'd actually ever had Buck and lost him, at least this way maybe the pain would just pass on through. But he doubts it, can feel the way his heart squeezes and splutters and tears in half as Buck steps out the door without looking back, feels the permanent marks sear into the very muscles that are keeping him alive, that with every beat he is reminded of this moment, of his failure.

Thanks for your ask!!! <3<3<3

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes

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silkjade · 1 year

Text

our lives are made in these small hours

Featuring—tighnari, alhaitham, kaveh ⤀ summary: in the most peaceful form of love, life is brightened by even the most mundane of moments ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, fluff ! a/n: this was sitting in my drafts for a long time

— 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈

Soft streams of sunlight weave their way between the thickets of avidhya forest until they make their way through the windows of your bedroom. It’s comfortably warm as it hits your face, much like the sleeping figure beside you. Blinking away the sleep from your eyes, you turn to face the forest ranger you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

It’s rare enough that tighnari has a day off, and even rarer still for him to sleep in, so you obviously don’t want to wake him yet. You prop yourself up as gently as possible, careful not to create too much movement on your shared bed, and take in the sight before you.

He’s always handsome, but a sleeping tighnari is a different sight to behold— one you don’t get to see very often, as he tends to rise far earlier than you, so you don’t fault yourself for falling victim at the mesmerizing way the early morning sun dapples across his skin, or how the short pieces of his fringe fall loosely over his full lashes. Your gaze makes its way upward, toward his long ears and how compellingly soft they look, ebbing and flowing in line with his breathing.

Just the tip, you think as your wavering arm hovers above, reminding yourself to keep your touch light so as not to wake him. You bite your lip in a poor attempt to hide the giddy smile that appears at the way his ear twitches and twirls on reflex as your finger ghosts the tip of his ear. A quick glance down to the fox hybrid’s face assures that, to your relief, he seems to remain asleep.

Unbeknownst to you, however, tighnari smiles inwardly; he’s much more successful at hiding it than you were. If he could, he’d roll his eyes at the way you take such adorable delight in the mundane. Out of habit, he’s been awake for hours, waiting, thinking you’d appreciate the rare opportunity to wake up together, laze around in bed, and cuddle into the late morning. At least two of those options are still viable.

From your peripherals, you catch the swishing movements of something dark and furry, but before you can even process it all, an arm wraps around your waist, essentially pulling you back down under the sea of pillows and blankets, and right into the confines of your lover’s arms. Your gaze meets tighnari’s and only then do you realize that those verdant green eyes shine much too brightly, and glint far too playfully, for someone who should’ve supposedly just woken up.

— 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

Sumeru’s acting grand sage takes his lunch exactly at noon everyday, never missing a minute, regardless of whatever conversation he must cut short, or of what meetings he must put on hold. The two of you have made it routine to meet for lunch, squeezing in as much time together as possible in spite of the unfortunate new schedule that came with his equally unfortunate new title.

For sumeru, an era change, especially in the case of overthrowing a corrupt administration, is good. For alhaitham, personally, it is a blatant disruption to his peaceful life. At least with you, he can find solace, your presence anchoring him in place while the tumultuous waves of the akademiya post-coupe, shakes through all other aspects of his life.

Amidst all the buzz of the city, your company is a familiar comfort that manifests regardless of whether the two of you exchange words in conversation, or just silently bask in the other’s presence. A heavy weight lands on you as alhaitham rests his head on your shoulder, energy clearly depleted from half a day’s work of dealing with annoying tasks and people.

Anyone who stumbles upon the scene would be struck with disbelief, but with you, alhaitham lets down his guard, trusting you to catch him should he fall; it’s a privilege he keeps reserved for you, and you alone. Alhaitham closes his eyes as he listens to you talk, letting out an occasional hum in response, only lifting his head when you abruptly pause mid-sentence.

Overhead, the sun and shadows shift, indicating the end of your little lunch date. Alhaitham’s current allotted breaks are much shorter than they were compared to when he was the scribe, so you find it odd that, for someone normally so punctual, he hasn’t moved an inch from his position.

“Don’t you have to start heading back now?” Technically, yes. He should. And he should also pick up his pace as well if he wanted to make it back on time.

But… he finds your first hand witness of ex-grand sage azar falling into yazadaha pool much, much more enticing than whatever awaits him at the akademiya, so alhaitham only briefly pretends to contemplate his options before a small smile settles upon his lips.

“Actually, the acting grand sage just approved my request for extended lunch hours, so please,” he gestures, “continue.” Afterall, who’s going to reprimand him? The grand sage?

— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

Both of you slink out of your respective bedrooms for a little break from the projects you’ve each been working on. The quest for a caffeine top-up, or a quick midnight snack, turns into impromptu 3am dates with kaveh under the warm light of the kitchen.

He gets to work, quickly whipping up a dish, while you start brewing a fresh pot of coffee. While kaveh may be in no place to reprimand you for working well into the witching hours (it would be glaringly hypocritical of him), he can at least ensure that any midnight meals you might have will be nutritious.

You watch the architect from your seat on the kitchen counter; it’s endearing, the way his brows are furrowed in concentration, stacking biscuit upon biscuit, as if he’s working to make architectural history for the second time in his life, albeit in a delicious fatteh form.

Tonight, however, the little bread building kaveh so painstakingly creates doesn’t quite resemble the famed palace that it so often does. Instead, this structure is less towering, less grand, more intimate.

For a man as burdened as kaveh, the future is but a mere afterthought. Haunted by the ghosts of his past, he already bends under the weight of his unsettled debts and looming deadlines. And armed with only inspiration as fleeting as the fickle whims of his clients… the present is already a path rife with uncertainty. But with you by his side, kaveh allows himself to dream again. Such is this random burst of inspiration that hits him late at night, urging him to construct a physical manifestation of the home he’s found in you.

“… and a padisarah garden where we can drink wine and watch the sun go down,” he mumbles, recalling your exact words while sprinkling on the finishing touches of his latest masterpiece. No need to dig through the depths of his mind for ideas when his new dream home comes as effortlessly as dreaming itself.

Of course you end up sharing the fatteh, though it’s always a shame to break apart such culinary artistry, especially when it's a rough model of a home he’s envisioned for your future together. When he’s with you, the path ahead is clear as day, so it’s alright— he’ll draft up a real blueprint later.

The last hours of the night are spent idly chatting away, and it’s not until you hear the first songs of the early morning dusk birds, that the spell breaks like a veil lifted, and in this moment, you realize the two of you have spent far too long at the dining table together. You scurry back to your room while kaveh prepares to do the same.

As for the dishes, he waves it off, dumping them all in the sink. The two of you have far too much work to catch up on… and it’s alhaitham’s turn to do the dishes anyway.

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #tighnari x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #tighnari fluff #alhaitham fluff #kaveh fluff #genshin x you #genshin hcs

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year

Text

Remember me

Summary: You haven't been able to reach Jack since he left for a business trip, making you worried. Having no other way to contact him, you decide to drive to Statesman, unprepared to find him walking out of the building perfectly fine. You question your relationship, asking yourself if he would just ghost you after so many years of friendship until a Cowboy finds you crying in your car, and tells you everything about Statesman. And what happened to Jack.

Pairing: Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: G

Warnings: memory loss, Friends to lovers, little angst, some fluff

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts since December. Hope you like it (cause I'm not sure I do lol)

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to follow fic updates

“When will you be back?” you listened to his steady heartbeat, your ear on his chest.

His arms were around you, cuddled under the warm covers of his king sized bed.

“A week. Tops,” he hummed and you felt him kiss the top of your head. You smiled, pressing your lips to his chest.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumbled.

“You won’t even notice I’m gone, sugarplum.”

“Hello, This is Jack. Leave a message after the…”

You sighed, ending the call. Again. It’s been almost three weeks.

Three weeks in which you hadn’t seen or talked to Jack. He usually finds a way to let you know, if his job takes longer.

You did not know exactly what he was doing, but you had your suspicions. He was often gone for weeks, not being able to contact you.

Which was a surprise when you first learned about it, being under the impression that he was the CEO of a whiskey distillery.

“One day I’m gonna tell you everything about it, sugarplum,” he used to say. And for whatever reason you trusted him that he would. Even way before you both finally realised that your friendship was way more than that.

You hadn’t been together for a long time.

But you had known Jack for years.

The little coffee shop you owned apparently lay on the way to his work and he started stopping by almost six years ago when he moved to a little town just outside of the city.

You would always remember the first time he stepped into your little café.

You had seen your fair share of cowboys throughout the years but Jack? Deep down you just knew he would be trouble.

You just did not know if in a good or in a bad way.

He had ordered a plain black coffee and a muffin for breakfast.

“Surprise me, Sugarplum,” he’d smirked at you when you asked him what kind of muffin he wanted. And yeah, that southern charm was trouble from the first day.

After that he came in every single day on his way to work. You’d only learn that he sometimes stopped by in the afternoon too much later, one of your employees telling you that he seemed a little disappointed when he did not see you.

He had only asked for your actual name almost half a year later.

The friendship that had formed between the two of you always lingered on the line to becoming something more.

It started with him inviting you to go out to the farmers market out of town one saturday.

Then you invited him for a home cooked dinner which quickly became a weekly Thursday night thing.

You started spending time at his farm outside of town too. He had beautiful horses, some cows and chickens.

He taught you how to ride and care for the horses.

You would have thought he had a dog too, but instead he had two cats called King and Queen.

Two very cute fluffy white cats who followed him wherever he went once he got home.

They loved to sleep on top of Jack when you had movie night. There might be a folder of pictures in your phone just of him with the cats.

It would take more than five years of friendship until one drunken night left you sleeping in his bed, waking up the next morning in his arms, his lips brushing over the back of your neck, asking is this okay to which you only nodded while he kissed himself down your neck until you turned in his arms so he could kiss your lips for the first time.

He took you out for your first date that very same night.

You had talked to each other every single day in the last months, even when he had to get away. You practically had moved into his house, leaving your apartment in the city just for the occasional nights when you were too tired to drive back to his place after work.

Or you stayed there when Jack was gone. His house feeling way too big and empty without him.

But earlier today you had been at his place, finding it as deserted as it had been the last weeks.

You had no idea how to contact him outside of his phone number. You did not have any information on contacting his family or friends. The latter only being two men you had met briefly throughout the years.

What you did know however was where he worked.

You took a deep breath, exhaling through your mouth as you looked at yourself in the mirror as you got ready for work.

You missed him.

You loved him.

Maybe it was time to drive to Statesman across town to finally get some answers.

You had been staring at the entrance for an hour.

You hadn’t planned on staring at the entrance for an hour.

You were about to get out of your car and demand answers but then you saw him walk out of the door.

Jack.

He was smiling as he talked to another man, one of his friends you had met whose name you had already forgotten, before you saw him climb into his Bronco and speed off.

Why was he ignoring your calls?

Why didn’t he let you know that he was alive and well?

A constant stream of questions seemed to go through your head, only stopped when someone knocked on your car window.

You blinked your eyes before you let the window down, an older man, another cowboy, looking at you.

“Evening Ma’am. I noticed that you have been waiting here for a while and I was wondering if you need any help?” he asked.

You sighed.

“Yes… No. Sorry. I’ll… I’ll leave,” you mumbled, still confused.

“Are you okay?” he asked and you huffed a laugh.

“Just asking myself if my boyfriend decided to ghost me on purpose. He’s working here, you know? Haven’t seen him in almost a month, haven’t talked to him, but I just saw him walk out of those doors, looking perfectly fine to me.”

You were rambling.

“I haven’t even told him that I love him. I think he loved me though. We’ve known each other for a long time. Used to flirt shamelessly with me every day when getting a coffee.”

“Now hold on there for a minute there,” the Cowboy said and your lips pressed shut, looking at the man.

“You don’t happen to be talking about a tall Cowboy with a preference for banana strawberry muffins from that little café across town?” he asked you.

“I bake the muffins myself,” you whispered, looking at him.

The man sighed.

“Jack didn’t tell me he finally got his head out of his ass and made a move on you. You might wanna come inside with me? I think you deserve some answers.”

You were staring again.

This time not at the entrance of Statesman, but at the door of Jack’s Farmhouse.

The house that had become a home to you more than your own apartment was.

Agent Champagne, Champ for friends, had explained to you that while Statesman was still a distillery, it always was a front for a secret organisation.

And Jack was one of its Agents. One of the best apparently.

Something had happened on his last mission and the short explanation was that he had come back from the dead and might have lost more memories than the agency first thought.

Champ had encouraged you to drive out and visit Jack. He’d apparently been talking about stopping by the next morning at the café. He had only been released from the medical wing today.

He didn’t almost die, he had been dead.

For almost three hours before they could bring him back.

You took a deep breath before you got out of your car, walking the familiar path towards his house. Out of habit you reached for the key he gave to you to unlock the door, stopping with a head shake before you brought your hand up to knock on his door.

The time it took before you heard footsteps behind the door seemed like hours, giving you time to school your face into a neutral expression when the door opened, revealing Jack standing in front of you, dressed in dark sweatpants and a faded Game of Thrones shirt. Your shirt.

His face lit up when he saw you.

“Sugarplum, I wasn’t expecting you,” he said with a smile and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, as you smiled at him.

“Hi Jack,” you whispered as you looked up at him and as if it was pure instinct he opened his arms for you as you took a step towards him, his strong arms wrapping around your body as he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt, feeling his arm tighten around you.

“Are you sure, you’re okay sugar?” he asked and you took a deep breath before you looked up at him, finding his eyes looking down at you with concern.

“I think we need to talk,” you said quietly. He frowned, but nodded, before he released you to close the door.

King and Queen were sitting on either side of you as you sat on the sofa, waiting for Jack to come back from the kitchen. He’d offered to make tea and you had agreed, using the time to gather your thoughts.

King was climbing into your lap as Jack came from the kitchen, your favourite mug, the one he had bought you only a couple weeks ago in his hand, your favourite tea in it.

He set the mug down on the coffee table before he sat down on the couch next to you.

“These two usually hate people,” he hummed, his hand stroking over the fur of Queen who meowed before she laid down in between the two of you.

“I’m not just any people,” you smiled a little and Jack smiled back.

“No you’re not,” he said warmly.

“How was your work trip?” you asked and if he was taken aback by your question he did not show it.

“Longer than expected but okay in the end. I’m actually gonna stay for a while now. Got some time off,” he explained and you nodded.

“Did I tell you about leaving town?” he frowned in the next moment.

“You did,” you whispered, your hand stroking King on your lap who was puring by now.

“Jack, what’s the last thing you remember? About me?” you asked.

He seemed confused before he took a deep breath.

“I… I think the last time I saw you you were cooking in my kitchen? Some roast that burnt…” he murmured.

You nodded.

“Okay. That was… almost three months ago. It was your birthday. And I promised to make your favourite dish,” you said as you carefully took the mug of tea to drink some.

He looked at you as if trying to figure you out.

“We watched Star Trek after and you told me how you hated the new ones,” you continued, but he just kept looking at you.

“I… I don’t remember?” he said and you closed your eyes, releasing a deep breath.

“Jack, I talked to Champ today. And he… he told me what happened to you,” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip in.

“Why would he do that?” he asked.

“Because usually when something happens to an Agent on the job their family or spouse is informed. But we… you hadn’t told anyone. About us yet.”

“Us?” he asked, looking at you.

“We’re… We’re together. Or we have been until you had to leave for your last job? I’m not really sure what we are now. I mean you can’t remember me…”

“I do remember you. I just… this is…”

“A lot. I know,” you sighed, fighting down the tears as you looked at him.

“We both… Really? I finally told you how I felt?” he asked after a while and you huffed a laugh.

“Not really. We were both drunk and I woke up in your bed…. we kissed the first time tight then in your bed,” you explained and he nodded.

“I was wondering whose clothes were in my wardrobe,” he said with a huff and you nodded.

“I… you actually asked me to move in with you before you left.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“And you had no idea what happened these last weeks. I’m so sorry,” he reached over, squeezing your hand.

“You’re very relaxed for someone who just got told he has a girlfriend he can’t remember.”

He chuckled.

“Let’s just say, worse things have happened on the job.”

“Gee thanks,” you rolled your eyes with a smile and he grinned.

You sighed.

“Well, I’m just gonna grab some stuff and leave you alone,” you gently put King from your lap, standing up.

“Why?” Jack asked, also standing up.

“Because you can’t remember me, Jackson,” you smiled sadly.

He shook his head.

“I do remember you. I remember everything about you. Just not… the most important part. The part where I finally got you in my life like I’ve wanted for a long time,” he whispered, taking a step closer towards you.

You sighed.

“What if you help me remember?”

“What are you proposing?”

“They… They use triggers when getting someone back. They always use a picture of my late wife that usually gets my brain back in the right lane. And it worked to some extent.”

“Just not for me,” you could not help the tears escaping your eyes now and Jack came even closer, his hands framing your face, as he wiped your tears away.

“I knew something was missing. I just did not know what,” he whispered. You closed your eyes.

“I know that I’m in love with you though,” he said and you gasped, opening your eyes.

“I have been since the day I took you out to the farmers market. When I saw you in that beautiful dress I’m sure my heart stopped.”

“Jack,” you smiled through your tears.

“So you see, I do remember you. I remember everything about you. I just don’t remember finally being with you.”

“You haven’t even told me you loved me yet,” you whispered and he groaned.

“Pre Memory loss Jack was a real dumbass,” he grinned and you chuckled.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed and then his lips were on yours. And it was if no time had passed, your arms wrapping around his broad back as you melted against him, his lips moving on yours, his moustache tickling you, making you grin against his lips.

“I love you sugarplum,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled.

“I love you too, Jack.”

#my fic #jack Daniels x fem. reader #jack daniels #Pedro pascal #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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jinkookspencil · 2 years

Text

a better grip | kim seokjin

seokjin knew you were insecure about your stomach, but he has a confession regarding something he wanted to try in bed…..

Description/TW: ~1.6k words / Seokjin x Reader (F) / Smut / Established relationship / Chubby Reader / OC or YN is insecure about her stomach (but teaser: Jin likes it). Again, nothing wrong with having a stomach or belly - this is for my fellow curvy girls! (but non-curvy girls can read and enjoy too, even straight-sized women can have bellies!) / this is another one of those fics where I have a half-written, similar jk version in my drafts but finished the seokjin one first... / this is my first time writing smut like this, it's more graphic than my previous one so... i hope it's alright

“Think we can go for another round?”, Seokjin laughs as he heaves, laying naked on the bed beside you.

He looked so handsome just laying there in his most natural state, even while he was sweaty and flushed.

“You look so hot so yes, I’d want to” you say jokingly as you face him, propping yourself up on your elbow while letting your other hand feel his chest. “Unless you’re tired?,” you ask.

He turns to face you with a hint of a smile, and stares right into your eyes. “No. No, I’m not tired,” he whispers before leaning forwards to kiss you, and you catch his eyes skim over your body as he pulls away.

“You know… you don’t need to cover up, my love. I want to see all of you,” he whispers, mere inches away from your face, his fingers caressing your cheek.

Seokjin had been referring to the silk babydoll you wore with a low, low neckline, that mainly served to cover your belly.

You had expressed your insecurities regarding your body image to Seokjin in the past. You had heard countless times that women shouldn’t express those feelings to their romantic partners and feign confidence instead - since confidence will always follow once you fake it - but you couldn’t lie to Seokjin. You didn’t believe in fakeness, especially when it came to the person you had to be closest to, and he saw right through you anyway. He made an effort to compliment you often and you never doubted he actually meant the words he said.. But he also understood that everyone had their own insecurities, and had always been mindful and respectful when you said you wouldn’t feel comfortable showing your entire body when you first started sleeping together. So, you always insisted on wearing something to cover your stomach - whether it was lingerie, a tank top, one of your pyjama tops or one of his - you had yet to have sex entirely naked. If you ever had spontaneous sex and seemingly no other choice but to get naked, you’d go so far as to make Seokjin take off his shirt for you to wear, or use something else to cover your stomach like a pillow, a towel, or even once - Seokjin’s trousers when you didn't have anything else. Luckily, there were lingerie that helped accommodate your needs as well as his - you tried to make sure he had access to your boobs, for his sake. All this time later you had to admit that the fabrics got in the way a couple of times, but Seokjin never said anything about it... until now.

“Seokjin, I’m just.. You know I don’t like my belly. I - I don’t want you to see it and get turned off and want to stop.. or..” you’re unable to finish your sentence before Jin interrupts you.

“You know I’ve already seen your stomach, right? Your cute little dresses and tops always ride up at night and barely cover anything. And that one time you took a nap between rounds, you kicked off the blanket and practically lay on me completely naked. I was happy. I would never get turned off, and it’s not that I don’t care….” he pauses for a moment. “It was sexy. I love your body…a lot. I... I was turned on even more.”

“You...No don't... No, you weren't," you mumble, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you sit up and look away. Seokjin's fingers stroke your arm before lightly tracing the straps and lining of the babydoll on your body, finally resting on your back.

“You were sexy. I’m sorry, but I was happy to see you naked. And I like your tummy,” he admits in a serious tone, looking up at you.

While you were too stunned to speak, Seokjin gets on his knees on the bed, bringing his fingertips to your chin.

“Let me show you. Trust me. If you’re so uncomfortable, just say so, but let me try something first?”

You had never been vulnerable or close to someone as you had been with him. The thought of giving yourself to Seokjin as you are never scared you when it came to who you were as a person, but when it came to your body…. You had always been frightened. But now, being here with Seokjin and him telling you it’s a safe space to do so… And that he liked it…. It was reassuring. You don’t know what Seokjin has in mind, but you do know that you trust him.

“O..okay..”, you whisper.

He smiles before he bows down to kiss you, and the kiss lasts so long that you almost forget about your previous conversation. Just as your chest relaxes against his, he swiftly lifts the babydoll over your head and discards it across the room. Immediately finding your pull on the blanket in an effort to hide your body, his fingers intertwine with yours, loosening your grip until it falls away and your holding onto him instead. He places his other hand on your belly, his touch warm against your exposed skin, softly tracing your curves from hip to hip before suddenly squishing your stomach, causing you to squirm.

If it weren’t for Seokjin’s delicate touch, the sensation would’ve thrown you off - it’s an action no one has ever done in the past. Instead, his touch sends vibrations that travel all over your body. It’s ticklish. It’s new. It’s weird. It’s….comforting. A sign of love. Just before you wonder if it’s sexy, Seokjin proves it to you by squishing your hips and pulling you even closer to him.

You let out a gasp into Seokjin’s mouth, breaking your kiss, but he doesn’t give you a break. You both moan as he continues kissing down your neck, shoulder, and chest, and his hands move to your bum as he guides your back onto the bed. He continues kissing your body as he hovers over you, his legs between yours, slowly making his way downwards. A hand fondles your breast as he kisses the other before getting to your stomach. You breathe heavily as Seokjin peppers it entirely with kisses, your wince slowly fading every time you feel his lips. Soon, it's hard not to relax as Seokjin continues… every inch of your torso has been touched by his lips, his hands, and the softness of his breath. Your fingers find his hair, grabbing and tousling it as he kisses your body, alerting Seokjin to your changed disposition and your arousal. His kisses and moans grow more intense, indicating that he’s feeling the same way. He repeats the same actions over and over again until he reaches your pubic area, and you spread your legs a tad wider in response.

To your surprise, Seokjin suddenly stops and moves back up, kissing your shoulder a number of times before facing you.

“Look,” he starts between heavy breaths and pants in sync with yours. “I always… I always wanted to try something.”

He faces away as his face gets even redder.

“But I know I need to ask your permission first. If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”

“What is it?”, you quickly ask.

“I -…. I want to go down on you while grabbing onto your stomach,” he finally confesses.

“Are you serious?!”, you exclaim.

“Listen, I’ve always dreamt of it,” he breathes. “Your thighs are lovely but… I think the grip will be nice.”

His sweat drops onto your chest.

“Fuck…” he sighs. “I don’t want to ruin the moment so… so just tell me if you don’t want me to so that we can continue. We can talk about it later….”

He obviously didn’t hate your body, his lips barely left it tonight…. If he’s always dreamt of it…

You slowly nod.

“Yeah?” he asks in a panic.

“Yeah. Go ahead….” you whisper.

“No fucking way,” he lets out as he kisses you. “Fuck, yes. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I'll make you feel as beautiful as you are. And if you want me to stop at any time, you know the safe word. Or just tap me three times if I miss it.”

You nod, and, kissing you again, he says “I love you so much”.

Before assuming his position between your legs, Seokjin hungrily kisses your stomach, even surprising you by biting it and licking it afterwards.. Soon he gets to your pubic area once again and immediately wraps his arms around your legs.

His lips soon finds your area, and as you relish in the sensations his tongue makes you feel, he grabs your stomach.

“F- fuck,”, he lets out, his lips wet. “This is good. This is so good. Are you okay?”

You don’t know how to answer the question, but you know you must immediately, between your moans and gasps. Sure, he was just squeezing your belly, but for the body part you were most insecure about to arouse him further in the heat of the moment? The feeling that it and your body are helping Seokjin feel pleasured? Fuck, you felt good and turned on too.

“Yes,” you let out as a whine. “So good, Seokjin….C- continue.”

Seokjin doesn’t need any more instructions, his grip on your stomach getting firmer and his mouth getting hungrier before your body surrenders to him. He finishes shortly after you do, on your stomach no less, and he lays down beside you after cleaning you both up.

You still hadn’t said a word to each other besides moaning out each other’s names.

“Seokjin… thank you,” you whisper, facing him once your breathing returns back to normal.

“You fulfilled one of my fantasies and you’re thanking me?” he smiles. “Thank you.”

“No, I mean I gave you my body and trusted you with it, and… you embraced it. It just means a lot to me, so thank you,” you say as you pull his lips to yours, tasting a tear you hadn’t realized you let out.

“I don’t just embrace it or accept you or your body, honey, I love you. All of you. And it was..,” his voice trails off as his eyes roll around happily, “….better than I ever imagined. It was a better, soft grip.”

You smile and kiss him once again, but you break it apart when Seokjin suddenly squeezes your belly again.

“Please let me do it again in the future,” he whimpers.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” you giggle as you reach for his hand and place it on your stomach, “but it’s yours.”

Seokjin smiled widely and let out a quiet cheer before he moved towards your stomach and kissed it a few more times, making you giggle.

You loved all of him.

And he loved all of you….

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frankly-art · 3 months

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🎶 I seem to be bipedal, you see I'm half-horse, but no one can tell 🎶

✨💖 BUY ME A COFFEE! 💖✨ Check me out on: Instagram | Twitter | deivantArt | ArtStation | Bluesky SFW/NSFW

My centaur brainrot strikes again, this time while watching Great Pretender on Netflix—or, more specifically struck, as this has actually been sitting in my W.I.P.'s folder since last January, and I finished watching the show more than a year ago by now 😅 I started working on it around the time I finished season one, but was less impressed with season two and slowly lost interest in completing it… but, since I'd already lined and colored it, I thought I'd finish it up real quick as something to share while I continue working on my comic script! 📝

That's right! Some of you may remember a certain comic I promised back in 2021 that I eventually realized I'd need more time to develop. Well, I've finally got a working draft going for it—seven chapters and an epilogue, right now sitting at 237 pages and 73,227 words—which is the reason for my accidental hiatus here. Thanks for sticking around and I can't wait to share what I've been working on with y'all soon! 🧜‍♂️

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snorlaxlovesme · 3 months

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what is your favorite line/section of your sick CXS fic? It is so good and I love when authors can share some of their thoughts!

i feel so spoiled with these messages from you, thank you for being so kind my godd

(aforementioned sickfic)

it's hard to choose favorite lines bc genuinely i do love the whole fic so much. a lot of the time i'm writing off the cuff and it just flows out of me in one or two sittings (it's why i'm a one-shot writer) but this was a story that took me months to complete because of all the planning involved (and absolutely fruitless research into Chinese herbal soups, since literally NONE of that research made it into the fic lmao) and so the whole thing feels really special and different from my other stories just because of how much thought was put into it.

it took a long time, but i adored writing the second half, getting to write the same day over again and try to make it identical while FEELING totally different. having Lu Guang totally in pieces over every little change he accidentally makes to the timeline was mwaa *chef's kiss*

i think my favorite line was what i eventually pulling from to make the summary on AO3

"Lu Guang is so tired. He wishes he could freeze this conversation, this whole day, and go nap for a thousand hours. The stress of it all is sucking the marrow from his bones. He wishes he could do today over again. He doesn’t know if he’d have the strength to do today over again."

idk i just feel like it really encapsulates the struggle Lu Guang goes through in this fic and might literally go through on a day to day basis trying to re-live the timeline. like i'm sure every misstep feeling like something Lu Guang would want to do over, but how many times can he handle that, emotionally? like this day mentally broke him and it's literally the most nothing day. Lu Guang forgot to make one phone call and almost suffered cardiac arrest because of it.

plus its very sweet that Cheng Xiaoshi, sick as a dog and feeling down on himself for being left alone all day, comforts Lu Guang after this moment because he can see Lu Guang is going through like a panic-induced existential crisis and mistakes it for Lu Guang ALSO feeling ill, sweet boy ♥

i also really liked the simplicity of these lines (it includes spoilers so look away if you wanna read the fic first. )

But Lu Guang thinks of the tear-streaked smile after Cheng Xiaoshi took that first bite. Spending every waking moment agonizing over his next step won’t get him anywhere. Instead, Lu Guang folds up that smile and tucks it into a corner of his mind for safekeeping. Cheng Xiaoshi thanked him for today. Maybe that is enough.

that part wasn't in the original draft. these lines are in response to CXS thanking Lu Guang for caring for him and i think i had a bit of prose where LG internally laments that he spent half the day ignoring CXS and only took care of him when it was clear Qiao Ling wasn't going to be able to, so the thanks wasn't really deserved. or something self deprecating like that

i had sent my "final draft" to a friend after revising some bits in the flashback and said "i wanna post it but i feel like i need to mess with the ending still. it feels off" my friend insisted what i had was great but i didn't know if the last line of the fic ("Timeline be damned") felt earned. Lu Guang had been a slave to the timeline for the entirety of the story, allowing him to kind of/sort of say "fuck you" to the timeline for a brief moment felt like it was going against everything i had just established, of how IMPORTANT keeping to the timeline was to Lu Guang for the sake of being able to save Cheng Xiaoshi in the future.

it was my friend that gave me the idea to write a simple thesis line that shows what Lu Guang has learned from this. that disaster is definitely a potential outcome in Lu Guang's crazy plan, but seeing Cheng Xiaoshi at peace is enough to make him want to try. like you said in your comment on the fic, if you went back in time, you'd want to be kinder. those lines are Lu Guang reminding himself that seeing CXS at peace has an emotional effect on Lu Guang as well.

ALSO idk the "fold up his smile and tucks it in his mind" bit is cute okay? it's a very cute sentence and i'm proud i wrote it lol

this is very long so i'm gonna stop rambling but again THANK YOU so much for asking me this and for all your sweet messages. i truly can't get over how wonderful it's been talking about this story with you, it's only made me love it more and i already thought it was my magnum opus lmao

#you: talk about your writing i'd love to hear your thoughts!#me: feels guilty somehow about doing exactly what you asked of me #mykingdomforapen #link click #kelly got an ask

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everyones-least-favorite-bard · 4 months

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ive got an sp/yjh saul/david paper sitting in my drafts id love to have finished in theory but i also dont have it in me to read through 1 samuel a sixth time so im just gonna drop the cleanest parts as is ON THE VOYEURISM OF THE DIVINE

One of the keys to understanding Yoo Joonghyuk’s character is, simply put, the fact that he is a character. Yoo Joonghyuk (and by extension all iterations of him) is the ultimate unwitting exhibitionist—his entire life is not only on permanent display to the varying Constellations and reader(s) of both the in-text WOS and the metatextual ORV, it was created for such. While writing WOS, Han Sooyoung even goes so far as to say that “t(T)he life of 1863rd turn Yoo Joonghyuk was given to her in its entirety,” effectively establishing that his very existence is tethered to her desire to see him exist (Sing-shong 534). In the most literal of senses, he was made to be observed. In the glimpses of the original WOS we see in ORV, every moment of his struggles is catalogued in excruciating detail, detail that we then see Kim Dokja memorize and internalize and store for later use. As early as the starting chapters of the first volume, Kim Dokja uses his memories of Yoo Joonghyuk doing something as mundane as cooking in such precise detail that those around him immediately grow suspicious of the clarity of knowledge he seems to carry regarding their circumstances (Sing-shong 20). And even beyond the context of his origins, this idea of Yoo Joonghyuk’s creation for the purpose of observation carries over into the events of ORV as well. Kim Dokja already knows a frankly invasive amount about his Yoo Joonghyuk from the WOS readings, which is then compounded by his use of the Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint stage 2 skill, a skill that lets him literally read Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind (Sing-shong 11). Kim Dokja even describes the sensation of receiving Yoo Joonghyuk’s thoughts as “like a waterfall in my (his) head,” which implies the reception of not only surface thoughts but rather every thought going through Yoo Joonghyuk’s head (Sing-shong 11). It’s an egregious overstepping of boundaries that he regularly uses for over half the novel.

But—and note the use of “his” Yoo Joonghyuk earlier—this knowledge of Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t extend to every iteration of him. Kim Dokja only read WOS, so it would follow that the Yoo Joonghyuk he knows best is the Yoo Joonghyuk of WOS, or, in essence, a Yoo Joonghyuk who did not know Kim Dokja. A Yoo Joonghyuk who, as is revealed later in the novel, would then go on to become Secretive Plotter.

Secretive Plotter, therefore, as an extension of the Yoo Joonghyuk Kim Dokja knows best, is defined by his exposure. He is who he is because his life has been watched and recorded and analyzed and picked apart at all times, all the time—not just by Kim Dokja within the context of ORV, but even in the original WOS by the Constellations. He exists in this fixed state of victimization by a horde of voyeurs, and then even within ORV itself he still suffers from this constant observation. Although he remains a mysterious figure the readers (until his identity reveal at least) and Kim Dokja see obliquely for much of the narrative, he is far more obviously emotive than the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk. The most obvious example of his comparatively vocal emotional outbursts is the infamous “Why, why is it not me but you??” scene (Sing-shong 446). While the scene (and that line in particular) is often read as Secretive Plotter expressing his jealousy towards Yoo Joonghyuk over his connection with Kim Dokja, the real signifier of his vulnerability is in Kim Dokja’s narration describing him a few paragraphs earlier. Kim Dokja says Secretive Plotter’s “tone of voice was heavy with grief. I couldn’t even fathom the depths of resentment contained within his words.” (Sing-shong 446). Compared to the layers upon layers of misdirection present in Kim Dokja’s narration everywhere else in the novel, the stark clarity of the description—the precise naming of the emotion(s) in Secretive Plotter’s tone—is startlingly obvious. 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk sits on the opposite end of this (admittedly somewhat narrow) spectrum. In the Epilogues, after the events of the 1865th round and the retrieval of the Kim Dokja of that round, we see (through the third person narration of Yoo Sangah) Yoo Joonghyuk’s reaction to the problem with their freshly-retrieved Kim Dokja. This scene, in which Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression is described as “frozen pale-white…as if he had lost a protective wall of his mind, he seemed to be muttering something to himself…” and while this is certainly an evocative image being painted for the reader (especially when factoring in Yoo Sangah’s later allusion to his expression during Kim Dokja’s erasure from the Star Stream in the 73rd Demon Realm), we still have virtually no idea what he’s actually feeling or thinking in this moment (Sing-shong 540). Even at what is arguably one of his lowest moments, 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk’s emotions are hidden from the reader—we can extrapolate, we can deduce and surmise and conjecture the broad strokes of his thoughts in the moment, but we ultimately do not know. Secretive Plotter is palpably unobscured in comparison: he is pinned open and dissected like a bug in a petri dish even when he has the objective upper hand. All the power in the world means nothing for the Secretive Plotter because he is always, always at the mercy of those watching him use it.

However, the lack of exposure seen in the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk in the Epilogues could be explained away by it being under Yoo Sangah’s narration, not Kim Dokja’s. Yoo Sangah does not have anywhere near the history of obsession and observation with Yoo Joonghyuk’s life and thoughts that Kim Dokja has/had (regardless of her having read WOS while inside the Fourth Wall), so it would stand that of course her narration of Yoo Joonghyuk would lack the highly scrutinizing quality that the rest of the text of ORV seems to take. Now, initially, this is true. As said before, Kim Dokja possesses the Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint skill(s) and he uses them with reckless abandon all throughout ORV. So, while metatextually the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk is largely hidden from the reader’s view, in the actual text we see his thoughts on display with alarming frequency entirely due to Kim Dokja’s actions. What makes him different from Secretive Plotter in this instance, then? Secretive Plotter is exposed via ORV the novel and the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk is exposed via ORV the skill—the difference would only lie in medium here, so what truly separates the two? The answer lies in the battle(s) against Yoo Joonghyuk’s companions from the 999th round. Towards the end of the arc, during a lull in the fighting, 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk asks Kim Dokja to use Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint stage 3 on him (in order to better integrate the story ‘Hell of Eternity’), but Kim Dokja is reluctant to do so. After some introspection (in which he realizes he’s been building his relationships off of his understanding of people from reading their minds), he tries to read Yoo Joonghyuk once more with ‘Hell of Eternity,’ but instead of basing his “reading” off of his memories of WOS or the assumptions he’s built around the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk from them Kim Dokja clears his mind and thinks of him as a stranger—as a person he does not know (Sing-shong 467). As soon as he does so, as soon as he respects Yoo Joonghyuk not as a powerful character in a story or as an integral fixture of his life, Yoo Joonghyuk ceases to be a character. When he chooses to respect Yoo Joonghyuk as a person, Yoo Joonghyuk is able to escape the voyeurism intrinsic to their initial relationship.

And this is the core of the divergence between Secretive Plotter and the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk: Secretive Plotter never experiences that release from two-dimensionality but Yoo Joonghyuk does. Secretive Plotter remains a figure used in the plot, by the plot, and for the plot (what is ‘Hell of Eternity’ itself if not the amalgamation of Secretive Plotter’s functionality in the narrative wrapped in a story-shaped bow), but after his christening as a fully fleshed person in the 999’s arc, the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk is able to finally grow beyond his origins and into a person with control over his life and story. Taking that moment (and the fact that Kim Dokja is, functionally, the capital-G God of the ORV/WOS world) it then evolves to mean that the 1864th Yoo Joonghyuk was saved from the emotional violence of his relationship with his god by the reciprocity of the relationship with that god. When their relationship developed to that of equals, his god was able to respect him as an individual.

Now. In the Saul and David narrative (limited to 1 Samuel), we see a remarkably similar dynamic play out. Saul, the first king of Israel, is something of a unique figure even within the actual text of the Bible. The historical sections of the book lend themselves to much obfuscation of detail, more often than not only informing the reader of the bare bones necessary to put together what happened and why it matters in defining how the reader should go about their relationship with God instead of spending time dwelling on characters for the sake of the development of the characters themselves. It is very rare that extraneous information regarding motivations or precise methods or even just an individual's thoughts are exposed to the reader. This is not the case with Saul. All throughout 1 Samuel, Saul’s thoughts are very, very openly exposed. Cohen's study of the book goes so far as to describe his mind as being studied "as if it is an exhibit in a display case." Rather than giving the reader only his direct quotes or physical reactions to things, the book tends to directly state his thoughts. When the people of Israel praise David for his contributions by downplaying Saul’s, the text does not describe him as brooding in silence or disdain, but rather reveals precisely what he is thinking to the audience—"They have ascribed unto David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed but thousands; and all he lacks is the kingdom!"

Going back to Secretive Plotter. Saul and Secretive Plotter were both powerful beings beloved by their gods and were both put under intense, invasive scrutiny by them in their narratives. Saul’s inner thoughts are constantly on display to the reader and Secretive Plotter’s entire life was transcribed for Kim Dokja to read. Even at the end of the novel Secretive Plotter’s “◾◾” is revealed to the reader while Yoo Joonghyuk’s is not. Saul and Secretive Plotter would then both go on to be replaced by another individual also chosen by god and also beloved by god, only changed by their respective gods' decision to reserve their scrutiny.

In comparison, David remains the paragon of obscurity. Like most other Biblical protagonists, David’s thoughts are rarely, if ever, seen by the reader. In the varying scenes in which Saul becomes increasingly more distressed and threatened by David's existence we continue to see the dissolution of Saul’s mental state and psyche but next to nothing on David’s part. From the moment of his selection by God in his father's home to the end of 1 Samuel and his coronation as king of Israel, David's thoughts remain wholly inscrutable to the reader unless he decides to vocalize them. All expressions of David are instigated by him and for him—the reader does not see his mind unless he wants the reader to see it.

It is clear, then, that in the Saul and David dynamic, the key difference between them is the depth and, like Secretive Plotter and Yoo Joonghyuk, the reciprocity of their relationships with their gods. Saul often blunders and mistranslates the will of God, being regularly rebuked by Samuel (a prophet of God) for his mistakes and being very, very rarely (if at all) praised for any successes resulting from his efforts. Saul clearly desires a connection with God—he seeks out Samuel for counsel often and even reneges on one of his own laws by hiring a medium to commune with him after his death—but that connection is never reciprocated. God openly states that he is choosing to turn away from Saul and that he regrets having chosen him as king. Secretive Plotter attempts to form a Sponsorship Contract with Kim Dokja in the first 5 chapters of ORV and even after his refusal continues to follow his progress throughout the scenarios. He brings Kim Dokja to the 1863rd round and attempts to force him to see his perspective and even kidnaps him and brings him into the NGai Forest—culminating again in the “Why, why is it him and not me?" scene, but Kim Dokja never returns his attempts at any level of depth and is actually quite disturbed and frightened by them.

With David and Yoo Joonghyuk, their relationships with their gods are much more intense and most importantly, mutual. David is often described with the epithet "a man after God's own heart" and despite his frequent missteps outside the bounds of the will of God, remains in God’s favor. He desires connection with God, as seen in the many psalms he wrote and his frequent counsel with various prophets, and he very clearly receives it. Yoo Joonghyuk desires connection with Kim Dokja, which is the reason the whole WOS reveal guts him as badly as it does. He extends his hand out to Kim Dokja frequently, and although it may take Kim Dokja time to recognize it for what it is, he does come to accept it and reciprocates his affections.

It goes to show then, that the key missing with Saul and Secretive Plotter that their successors possess is not in skill, is not in power or in physical trait, but rather in that their gods were able to view them as individuals and respect them enough to not pick them apart for answers and instead just ask the questions themselves.

#there were originally like 4 sections to this paper #if i ever find it in me to clean those up too ill drop em as additions to this post but otherwise thats it from here babes #orv meta #omniscient reader #omniscient readers viewpoint #orv #yjh #yoo joonghyuk #kdj #kim dokja #secretive plotter #orv spoilers #omniscient reader spoilers #orv epilogue spoilers #bard writes

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mp0625 · 3 months

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Jouluiloa

Taglist. Masterlist.

Teuvo Teravainen x OC

For @callsign-denmark for @wyattjohnston ’s WINTER FIC EXCHANGE 2K24!!!!! This was so fun to write!!

A/N: This was so fun to write!! I loved being your super secret fic exchange human!! I loved getting to know you @callsign-denmark !!!!!!! This is my first time writing an OC so I hope it’s ok.

Words: 1.8k

Little backstory: Kate’s full name is Katherine Elizabeth Jarvis. Becca and Kate grew up together and are the same age (being born in 97). Becca also has a little brother that is Seth’s age but did not go pro. Takes place over Christmas time (I know it’s a month past). First time writing an OC, so it’s not the best

TW: None, Kate is a little bit of an ass at first

“Hey Kate, your brother is calling.” Becca calls across the barn.

“Say what now.” She called back. “Hold on, I'll be there in a minute.” As she starts walking over, a lamb with black sock follows her over.

As she grabs the phone from her, she answers. “Hello?”

“Mom says you need to come babysit me.”

“What? Why?”

“Have you not been on the group chat for the past 20 minutes?”

“No, one of the lambs got out and I had to spend a half hour chasing it because it wouldn’t come to a bucket of grain.”

“Mom says you need to come babysit me.”

“I ask again why?”

“Did you not see the game last night?”

“No, I did not. I haven't watched one of your games since you were drafted.” Kate started rolling her eyes “I went to enough of your games growing up.”

“Rude, I was checked into the boards last night and I broke two ribs.”

“You’re a grown adult, why do I need to come babysit you?”

“Mom said you need to come babysit me, cause I apparently can’t take care of myself.”

“Any idea how long I’ll be there?”

“I don’t know, till I’m better.”

“Good lord, fine I’ll be there in two days, but you’re paying for my show fees for the next year.”

“Ok see you in two days.”

After Seth hangs up Kate turns to Becca. “Hey, can you finish feeding and watering everyone?”

“Sure, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m going down to Carolina. Seth broke two of his ribs and mom wants me to take care of him.”

“Isn’t he like 21?”

“Yes but for some reason he can’t be a grown adult and take care of himself.”

————————————————————————

“Hey, just got off the plane. Where are you at and where do I need to meet you?”

“Hello to you too, I’m sitting at the arrivals gate. I'll meet you there and then we’ll go down to baggage claim.”

“Ok I’ll meet you there.”

As she starts walking to arrivals, she pulls out her phone to text her favorite Great Dane.

“Hey Frederik.”

“What’s with the full name?”

“Wanted to get your attention.”

“Ahh, why?”

“Want to get lunch soon? I’m down here for a while taking care of Seth.”

“Sure, just let me know when.”

Once Kate gets to the arrival gate she not only sees her brother but another person with him.

“Seth!” As he turns around to see who called him the other person turns to, she recognizes him but cannot place his name. Kate turns to the player next to him. “Remind me of your name?”

“Teuvo.”

“Thank you.” Turning back to Seth. “Why could Teuvo take care of you? And doesn’t he live with you?”

“He’s still playing and traveling with the team. And yes.”

“Ahh. So where did you park?”

————————————————————————

“Have you gotten any snow yet?” Kate pipes up from the backseat.

“No.” Teuvo answers back quietly.

“That sucks, we’ve gotten 30 cm a couple times already.”

“Damn it's not very festive in here.” She states after Seth unlocks the door and lets her in first.

“We’ve been on the road for the past two weeks so we haven’t had time to decorate.”

“First order of business is to liven this place up. Can we go get a Christmas tree this weekend?”

————————————————————————

“You ready to pick out a tree?”

“Yes, let me put my shoes on first.” Seth calls out. “Turbo, you ready?”

“Yeah.” He calls coming out of his room.

“What do you think of this one?” Kate asks as they peruse the lines of trees to find the best one.

“Oo this one looks nice.” Seth says as he turns around to see the one his sister is holding up. “What do you think, Turbo?”

“I like that one.”

“Then let’s get this one.” She says, “Seth, can you carry it?”

“Can’t, broken ribs remember.” He looks over at her with a deadpan look.

“Fine, Teuvo will you help me carry it to the front?”

“Sure, do you want the front or the back?”

“I’ll take the front.”

As the three of them head back to the apartment. Kate pipes up. “So do you have any sentimental ornaments here or do we need to run to Target?”

“Let’s make a quick run to Target, we don't have any tree decorating supplies.” Seth says getting in the other lane to turn into Target.

“So we need a stand, lights, some ornaments and a star.” Kate says, pushing the cart down the different aisles. “What do we think of these lights?” She asks the boys turning around to show them the multicolored lights, but they were nowhere to be found. As she walks down the aisles trying to find them as she turns down the last one she sees them playing with two hockey stick ornaments. “What are you two doing?” As the two of them look up sheepishly. “I think we have found our first two ornaments, put them in the cart. Any more ornaments while we’re down here in this aisle?”

“How about this one?” Teuvo asks, holding up a small canes logo.

“That one looks perfect.”

“Alright, are we ready to start decorating?” Kate asks as she starts to unpack the bags they got at the store. As Seth makes the hot chocolate and starts the Christmas music. “Teuvo will you help me untangle the lights?”

“Sure.” He says taking them gently from her hands and handing her back one end.

————————————————————————

“Where are you going, that you are getting this dressed up for?” Seth asks from the doorways as Kate puts the finishing touches of her makeup on and fluffs her brown hair up one last time.

“I’m going out with Freddie.”

“How do you know Freddie?”

“I’ve met him before at a game in Winnipeg. I bumped into him going to get coffee before one of the games and I recognized him.”

“You do know Freddie has a girlfriend right.”

“Yeah we’re just friends.”

“You look gorgeous.” Freddie spoke as he opened the door to his car as he met her up on the sidewalk.

“Thank you, so where are we going for dinner?”

“Sushi sound good?”

“Yes.”

————————————————————————

“And a goal for Teuvo Teravainen!” Yells Tripp Tracy though the TV screen as Seth turns on the TV.

“I told you that the game started 10 minutes ago, but no you wanted to go get ramen an half hour before puck drop.”

“Sorry I was hungry.” As Seth turns back to cheer on the boys in Ottawa. Kate looked down at her phone and started to text Teuvo. “Your goal looked awesome!! Congrats <3”

When the team got back from Ottawa, Seth was out grocery shopping and Kate stayed back at the apartment to reorganize the kitchen. She heard the front door open and called out. “I’m almost done here then you can bring the groceries in and put them away.”

“Was I supposed to bring home groceries?”

“No, I thought you were Seth.” Kate spoke standing up and walking towards him. “Can I give you a hug for your goals and winning the game?”

“Sure.” He spoke softly.

————————————————————————

“Are you sure you want to do this? You haven’t skated since you were in high school.”

“Yes, Seth I’m fine it’s not something you forget, and if I fall I have two big strong men to catch me.” She said, patting both of their chests while Seth shot her a displeased look.

“You ready?” Teuvo asks, grabbing the skates she was going to use off the table and handing them to her. “Do you need help tying them?”

“Yeah I feel pretty good, it’s been a little while since I’ve skated but I feel pretty good.” As Kate starts lacing up her skates, she looks up at Teuvo. “No, I’m good, that's one muscle memory that doesn't go away.”

————————————————————————

“So when do we want to eat Christmas dinner?” “Teuvo, in Finland they eat the main Christmas meal of the 24th correct?”

“Yes, they do.”

“That’s what we’ll do then.”

————————————————————————

“Hey Seth, will you set the table please?” Kate asks from the kitchen, stirring a pot that neither Seth or Teuvo knew what it contained. “Seth, can you please come pull the ham out of the oven?”

“Sure.” As soon as Kate put all the dishes and plates on the table the boys were surprised with the amount of food to feed an army. And all the different dishes, there was Ham, Mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, rosolli salad, Porkkanalaatiko, bread, and gravlax.

“Kate, this looks like the best meal I’ve seen outside of Finland.”

“What’s the fish stuff?” Seth asked, poking it with his fork.

“It's salmon, you like salmon, just try it.”

“I hope you saved room for dessert, I made gingerbread cookies.” Kate mentioned pulling the tray out from the oven.

“I’ll start the coffee machine and turn on the Christmas movies.” Seth looks over at him questioningly. “It’s tradition to eat gingerbread cookies and coffee on Christmas and watch Christmas movies.”

————————————————————————

As Seth emerged from his room on Christmas, the sight of his sister standing over the stove cooking something was foreign as on Christmas, their mom usually just pops a breakfast casserole in the oven and lets it cook while they open presents. As he walked over to the stove he asked. “What are you doing, and what have you done with my sister?”

“Haha, very funny. I was researching Finnish Christmas traditions and they normally have rice porridge with butter and cinnamon for breakfast. And I don’t want Teuvo to feel left out.”

“But what about our breakfast casserole?”

In response to him asking that question she opens up the oven and inside is a breakfast casserole bubbling away.

“Kate, you didn’t have to do this for me.” He says as he stirs the porridge before pouring three bowls.

“I didn’t want you to feel left out, in having your traditional Christmas breakfast, it was not super hard to make and I was in the kitchen anyway making the casserole.”

As the three of them start to eat their porridge and the casserole. Seth pipes up “Kate did something happen, there’s a nut in mine.”

“It is a traditional part of the rice porridge whoever gets the almond makes a wish.” Teuvo answers for him.

————————————————————————

“Are you sure you have to leave?” Teuvo asked from the doorway as he watched Kate pack her bags.

“Yeah, lambing starts in a week and I need to be there just in case anything happens. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He whispers, pulling her close. “I’ll help you put your bags in the car.” He says sadly, grabbing her suitcase.

“Hey, cheer up I’ll be texting you basically 24/7 from now on you’ll get sick and tired of me, this time next week.” She says passing by as she stops in the doorway next to him she gets on her tippy toes a little and gives him a kiss on the check.

Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12 @slafgoalskybaby @swissboyhisch @topguncultleader @wondershells @cixrosie @kajasagmo

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #teuvo teräväinen #teuvo teräväinen fic #carolina hurricanes #Carolina hurricanes fic

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