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urdreamydoodles · 3 months ago

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MCU Characters x Fem!Reader (Part.2)

They react to your outfit for your date with them (Part.2)

As you step out for a much-anticipated date night, your partner reacts with their unique blend of admiration and protectiveness, captivated by your stunning appearance.

Characters: Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Wade Wilson, Logan Howlett, Natasha Romanoff, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Wanda Maximoff & Yelena Belova

Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

- Marc is completely caught off guard when he sees you, his usual stoic expression breaking as his eyes widen in surprise. "Holy crap," he mutters under his breath, his gaze glued to you. He’s not used to seeing you like this—dressed to the nines, looking absolutely stunning—and it shows in the way he momentarily freezes, struggling to find the right words. "You look... wow," he finally manages, his voice rough but filled with genuine awe.

- He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he reaches out, his hand resting gently on your arm. "I don’t deserve you," he says quietly, his tone serious, but there’s a softness in his eyes that you don’t see often. Marc doesn’t think of himself as the romantic type, but the way he’s looking at you now makes it clear just how deeply he feels.

- "You sure you want to be seen with me looking like that?" he jokes, though you can tell by the tension in his voice that he’s half-worried he doesn’t measure up to how amazing you look. You reassure him with a smile, and he relaxes slightly, though his gaze remains intense, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

- Throughout the night, Marc is more attentive than usual, constantly checking on you, his protective instincts kicking in. He’s still quiet, but there’s a rawness to his affection—little gestures like holding your hand or brushing his fingers against your cheek—that show how much he’s affected by you. And when the night draws to a close, Marc pulls you into a deep, lingering kiss, as if he’s silently thanking you for being there, for choosing him.

Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

- Steven’s reaction is immediate and utterly endearing. The moment you walk into the room, his eyes widen, and his mouth falls open in astonishment. "Blimey!" he exclaims, his British accent making the moment even more charming. He fumbles with his words for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. "You—you look absolutely gorgeous," he says, his cheeks flushing pink as he awkwardly adjusts his tie, clearly flustered by how stunning you are.

- He’s not the type to play it cool, so when he steps toward you, it’s with genuine awe. His hands hover nervously before finally settling on your shoulders. "I feel like I’m in a dream or somethin'," he says, his voice soft and filled with admiration. "Are you sure you’re real?" Steven’s not shy about expressing how incredible he thinks you look—his eyes are practically sparkling with admiration, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

- As the two of you head out for the evening, Steven constantly fidgets, clearly nervous but excited to be on a date with someone who, in his mind, is way out of his league. "I—I can’t believe you’re with me tonight," he says with a shy smile, holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is. His nervous energy is contagious, but it’s also heartwarming, making you feel even more special.

- Throughout the night, Steven showers you with compliments, his words always sincere and never forced. "You’re too perfect," he says at one point, his voice full of wonder. He’s completely smitten, and by the time the night is over, Steven’s eyes haven’t left you once. When he finally works up the courage to kiss you goodnight, it’s soft and tentative, but full of affection—the kind of kiss that leaves your heart fluttering.

Jake Lockley (Moon Knight)

- Jake’s reaction is understated but sharp. The second you step into his line of sight, his eyes darken, scanning you from head to toe with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. He doesn’t say anything at first—he’s not a man of many words, but the way he slowly licks his lips, his head tilting slightly as he takes you in, tells you everything. “Dios mío,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, his voice rough with restrained admiration.

- Jake doesn’t move right away; instead, he leans back in his seat, taking you in like he’s savoring the moment. When he finally does stand up, it’s slow, deliberate. He walks over to you, his dark eyes locking onto yours, and the way he looks at you feels dangerous—thrilling. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he says with a smirk, his voice low and gravelly. There’s a playful edge to his tone, but beneath it, there’s no mistaking how much he likes what he sees.

- He reaches out, his hand grazing your waist as he pulls you in close, his grip firm yet possessive. “You look too good to be out in public,” he teases, his lips just inches from yours. There’s a fierceness in his eyes, like he’s already calculating how to keep you all to himself for the rest of the night. “Let’s skip the fancy dinner, cariño. I’ve got better plans,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with suggestion, though the glint in his eye lets you know he’s half-joking—half.

- Throughout the night, Jake is more protective than usual, keeping a hand on you at all times, his possessive streak showing in the way he glances at anyone who dares to look at you too long. But when you catch his eye, there’s a warmth there, a silent acknowledgment that even behind his rough edges, he’s completely captivated by you. And by the end of the night, when he pulls you into a deep, heated kiss, it’s clear he’s never letting you go.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool, Fox Universe)

- Wade’s reaction is, unsurprisingly, completely over-the-top. The second he sees you, he lets out a loud, exaggerated wolf whistle. “Hot damn!” he exclaims, his mouth hanging open in mock disbelief. “Did I die and go to heaven? Because, sweetheart, you’re making me look like an amateur!” He struts over to you with a goofy grin on his scarred face, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looks in comparison to your stunning appearance.

- “You sure you wanna be seen with this?” he gestures to himself dramatically, hands moving over his scarred body. But before you can respond, he’s already spinning you around like you’re on a runway. “Look at you! You’re the perfect combination of sexy and sophisticated. I mean, I might have to make a new fourth wall break just to brag about how hot my partner is.” His antics are ridiculous, but beneath it, there’s genuine affection in his eyes as he gazes at you with awe.

- Wade doesn’t stop with the compliments. He’s constantly throwing out one-liners like, “You’re so hot, even my regenerative healing factor can’t handle it,” and “We’re definitely getting free appetizers tonight just based on your looks alone.” But every now and then, he’ll drop a quieter, more sincere line: “Seriously, though... you look incredible. Like, jaw-droppingly amazing. I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

- Throughout the night, Wade alternates between being his usual, chaotic self—cracking jokes and making a scene—and being surprisingly sweet. He sticks close to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders and stealing kisses whenever he can. And despite the jokes, you can tell he’s genuinely proud to be by your side. At the end of the night, he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss before whispering, “You and me? We’re the hottest power couple in this or any other universe, babe.”

Logan (Wolverine, Fox Universe)

- Logan’s reaction is subtle but unmistakable. When you walk into the room, his brows lift just a fraction, and a low, appreciative growl rumbles from his chest. “Damn,” he mutters, his voice rough and full of that gruff Logan charm. He doesn’t say much else—Logan’s never been one for flowery compliments—but the way his eyes sweep over you, lingering a little longer than usual, tells you all you need to know.

- He walks up to you with that rugged, confident stride of his, his hand reaching out to tug you close by the waist. “You sure you’re dressed for a date with me and not some fancy rich guy?” he teases, his lips quirking into a crooked smirk. But there’s no hiding the admiration in his voice, or the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. “Guess I gotta step up my game tonight,” he adds, a rare playful glint in his eyes.

- Logan might not be overly romantic, but he’s protective. As the night goes on, he keeps a hand on you, always close, always watching. He doesn’t like attention, but he can’t help the small, prideful grin that tugs at his lips when he catches people glancing at you. “They’re all lookin’ at you,” he grumbles at one point, but there’s no jealousy in his tone—just quiet satisfaction that you’re with him, and no one else.

- By the end of the night, Logan pulls you aside, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know, you’re somethin’ else,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, as his fingers trace lazy circles on your back. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” There’s something deeper in his tone, a rare moment of vulnerability from the man who’s usually all gruff exteriors. And when he kisses you goodnight, it’s slow, lingering—like he’s savoring every second.

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

- Natasha’s reaction is calm, collected—like everything with her, it’s controlled. But the way her eyes flick over you when she first sees you, her lips curving into a small, approving smile, tells you she’s more than impressed. “You clean up well,” she says smoothly, her voice steady but full of admiration. Natasha’s not one to gush, but the way she’s looking at you feels intimate, like she’s drinking in every detail without needing to say much.

- She approaches you with that confident grace she always has, her movements fluid and precise. “You look beautiful,” she says softly, reaching out to brush her fingers down your arm. It’s a simple gesture, but coming from Natasha, it feels loaded with meaning. She doesn’t waste words, but the sincerity in her compliment hits harder than any grand declaration.

- As the two of you head out for the night, Natasha stays close, her hand resting lightly on your lower back as she guides you through the room. She’s calm, collected, and absolutely in control, but there’s a certain pride in the way she carries herself tonight. You catch her glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, and the small, satisfied smirk that plays on her lips tells you she’s enjoying the attention you’re getting—though, as always, she’ll never let anyone know.

- Throughout the night, Natasha is attentive, always making sure you’re comfortable and subtly complimenting you in her own quiet way. “You’re turning heads,” she whispers in your ear at one point, her tone almost teasing, but there’s warmth there, too. By the end of the evening, when you’re alone, Natasha pulls you close, her fingers tangling in your hair as she leans in for a slow, passionate kiss. “You’re incredible,” she murmurs against your lips, and you know, without a doubt, that she means every word.

Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

- Matt doesn’t need to see you to know how breathtaking you look. The moment you walk into the room, he senses it—the way your perfume mixes with the subtle hum of your heartbeat, and the soft rustle of fabric as you move. “You look... incredible,” he says, his voice low and reverent. The way he speaks makes it clear that he’s picturing every detail in his mind, and there’s a quiet intensity to the way he reaches out for you, his fingers brushing lightly over your arm before settling at your waist.

- When Matt runs his hands along the fabric of your outfit, there’s a softness in his touch, almost like he’s committing the feel of it to memory. “You always have a way of surprising me,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a subtle smile. Even though he can’t see, his senses make up for it—he can feel the way you carry yourself, the confidence radiating off of you. And even though he’s usually calm and composed, you can feel the way his pulse quickens ever so slightly when you’re this close.

- Throughout the night, Matt stays close to you, his hand either resting lightly on your lower back or brushing against your arm. He’s always aware of his surroundings, but tonight, his focus is on you. “You’re making it really hard to concentrate on anything else,” he teases quietly at one point, his voice laced with warmth. There’s a deep admiration in the way he speaks, like he’s always amazed by you, no matter how many times you’ve dressed up for him.

- By the end of the night, when it’s just the two of you, Matt pulls you into a slow, deliberate kiss. “I don’t need to see you to know you’re stunning,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. There’s a tenderness in the way he holds you close, like you’re the most important thing in his world, and it’s clear he’s completely captivated by everything you are.

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

- Frank’s reaction is quiet, but intense. When you step into the room, his eyes lock onto you immediately, and for a moment, he just stares. His brow furrows slightly, not out of confusion, but because he’s trying to process just how damn good you look. “You doin’ this to mess with me?” he finally mutters, his voice low and gravelly, though there’s a hint of admiration in his tone that he can’t quite hide.

- He doesn’t move right away, just stands there, arms crossed, as his eyes roam over every detail of your outfit. Frank’s never been one for flowery compliments, but the way he looks at you—like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you—says more than words ever could. “You’re... somethin’ else,” he says gruffly, scratching the back of his neck like he’s not sure how to handle seeing you like this.

- When he finally walks over to you, his movements are deliberate, his hand sliding around your waist as he pulls you close. “Lookin’ like that, we’re not gonna make it through the night without some trouble,” he mutters, half-joking, but there’s a protective edge to his voice. He’s proud to have you on his arm, but he’s also hyper-aware of how others might look at you—and that protective instinct of his kicks in almost immediately.

- As the night goes on, Frank stays close to you, always keeping an eye on your surroundings. He’s not a man of many words, but he’ll occasionally lean in and murmur something like, “You’re killin’ me with that dress,” or “I’m gonna have a hard time focusin’ on anything but you tonight.” By the end of the evening, when it’s just the two of you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you with an intensity that leaves no doubt about how much he appreciates you.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

- Wanda’s reaction is full of warmth and admiration. The moment she sees you, her lips part slightly, and a soft smile spreads across her face. “Wow,” she breathes, her Sokovian accent softening the word as her eyes light up with pure adoration. She doesn’t try to hide how much she’s in awe of you, and she takes a moment to simply drink you in, her head tilting as she steps closer. “You look... absolutely beautiful.”

- Wanda reaches out, her fingers gently brushing against the fabric of your outfit, almost like she’s checking to make sure you’re real. “I knew you’d look amazing, but this... this is something else.” There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, like she’s genuinely stunned by how radiant you look. Her eyes linger on you, full of quiet affection, and you can feel how much she appreciates every little detail you put into dressing up for her.

- Throughout the night, Wanda is always attentive, her hand either intertwined with yours or resting gently on your arm. She’s constantly stealing little glances at you, and each time she does, there’s a look of pure admiration on her face. “You have no idea how lucky I feel to be with you,” she whispers at one point, her voice soft and full of sincerity. There’s a sense of calm and comfort that radiates from her, and being with her feels like being wrapped in a warm, safe embrace.

- By the end of the night, when you’re alone, Wanda pulls you into a gentle, lingering kiss. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful you are,” she murmurs, her forehead resting against yours as she smiles softly. There’s something magical in the way she holds you, like she’s utterly enchanted by you, and you can feel her love in every touch, every word.

Yelena Belova (Black Widow, Platonic)

- Yelena’s reaction is playful, as always. When she sees you all dressed up, she lets out a dramatic whistle and claps her hands together. “Oh, look at you! Like a supermodel from Vogue!” she exclaims, her voice full of teasing admiration. She circles you with exaggerated flair, like she’s inspecting you. “What’s the occasion? You getting ready to impress some very important people, huh?” she teases, but there’s genuine appreciation in her tone.

- She walks up to you and flicks a piece of your outfit, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Look at this! You put effort into this, didn’t you? Good thing you have me to make sure you don’t trip over those shoes or something,” she says with a smirk, her humor always present. Despite the teasing, Yelena is visibly impressed, and she shows it with her cheeky compliments. “I’m pretty sure heads will turn. If not, I’ll make sure they do!”

- Yelena is a firm believer in boosting you up, and she does it with her own quirky brand of tough love. “Don’t get too used to being all fancy, though. Tomorrow we’ll be back to the tactical suits,” she jokes, nudging you with her elbow. But then she grins, patting your back. “No, seriously—you look amazing. Like, annoyingly amazing.” There’s affection behind her teasing, a silent acknowledgment that she’s proud to have you as her friend.

- As the two of you head out, Yelena sticks by your side, ready to make sure everything goes perfectly. She offers her signature sarcastic commentary throughout the night, but you can feel her warmth behind it all. “If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll handle it,” she says with a wink, half-joking. By the end of the night, she gives you a tight hug. “You clean up good. Next time, you pick the restaurant. I’ll be in charge of not getting us into trouble.”

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lefteagleblizzard · 9 days ago

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𝒫𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔯𝔢𝔧𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 Until dawn males x male reader

Summary: 4 scenarios featuring each of the men from Until Dawn. Meeting them an year after the prank and Hannah and Beth’s disappearance. Each scenario exists in its own standalone world, completely unconnected to the others.

Tags: He/Him pronouns used for the reader. Romance and/or smut. Mike Munroe x male reader; Matt Taylor x male reader; Josh Washington x male reader; Chris Hartley x male reader. Set during the events of the game at chapter 1. All of these are separated and not connected. All of these with bottom male reader. Friends to lovers/ established relationships. Smut. Gay smut. Dom Mike Munroe. Gentle dom Matt Taylor. Dom Josh Washington. Pinning. Anal sex. Sex in the open. Matt and Emily broke-up before the events of the game. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Chris is a flirt.

Words counts: 9000 words (around 2000 for each character).

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝓂𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ

You sat on the bench just outside the cabin, the cold biting at your exposed fingers as you scrolled through your phone for the hundredth time that evening. Your heart was doing its best impression of a jackhammer as you opened your chat history with Mike Munroe yet again.

The threads were littered with messages, both casual and charged, and no matter how many times you scrolled through them, you couldn’t stop your face from heating up at his words.

Your thumb hovered over one conversation in particular, a mix of texts and a photo that had been on your mind all day for weeks.

Mike [7:13 PM]: So I just left the gym. Guess what I saw?

You [7:15 PM]: A treadmill that wasn’t terrified of you for once?

Mike [7:16 PM]: Wow, rude. My cardio game is STRONG.

You [7:18 PM]: Sure it is. What’d you actually see?

Mike [7:20 PM]: Someone broke one of the bench press racks.

You [7:21 PM]: He broke it? Like snapped it in half?

Mike [7:23 PM]: Nah, he was just being an idiot and overloaded it without a spotter. It cracked. Dude nearly took his head off.

You [7:25 PM]: Jesus. That’s terrifying.

Mike [7:27 PM]: You tell me.

He followed the message with a photo. You’d stared at it for longer than you’d ever admit.

In the picture, Mike stood in the gym. Behind him, the cracked bench press was visible, but your eyes had been glued to his frame for far too long. Sweat glistening on his skin, his simple white tank top clinging to his broad chest. His hair was slightly mussed, strands sticking to his forehead, and there was a teasing grin on his face, one brow raised in a way that screamed smug.

You could still feel the way your face had burned after seeing that photo. He was infuriating in the best way possible.

The soft thud of snow against your chest startled you so completely that your phone slipped slightly from your grasp. You barely managed to grab it before it hit the bench, a surprised gasp escaping your lips as you looked down at the patch of snow now scattered across your clothes.

A triumphant shout rang out and you looked up to see Mike standing a little ways up the slope, his grin wide and victorious. “Bullseye! Right in the heart!”

Your lips twitching into an unwilling smile. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious,” he replied, jogging down the hill toward you, his cocky grin never faltering. “That was an incredible shot. You’ve gotta give me some credit.”

“Credit for assaulting me?” you shot back, though the humor in your tone betrayed your mock annoyance.

“Hey, it’s a tradition,” Mike said as he reached the bench. Without breaking stride, he vaulted over the wooden fence separating the path from the seating area, landing beside you with graceful ease. He plopped down on the bench so close to you that his knee pressed against yours, the faint scent of his cologne and winter air clinging to him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Now,” he said, pulling you just slightly closer, “you gonna forgive me, or do I need to buy you a hot chocolate to make it up to you?”

Your laugh came despite yourself and you turned your head to meet his gaze. “You think one hot chocolate is gonna cut it?”

Mike gasped theatrically, his free hand clutching his chest. “I thought you knew I was a man of many talents, but clearly, I’ve been underestimated.”

“And what talents are those, exactly?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“For starters, I have an excellent aim. That’s already been proven. I also happen to be fantastic at keeping people warm. Very cozy. Ten out of ten, highly recommended.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though the smile tugging at your lips made it clear you weren’t entirely serious.

“Ridiculous or amazing?” Mike asked, tilting his head in mock thought. “Actually, don’t answer that. I already know.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth of his arm around you and the easy humor in his voice made it hard to keep up any pretense of annoyance. “So,” he said after a moment, his tone softening slightly, “how are you doing? Really.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, glancing down at your hands. “I’m… okay,” you said after a moment, though the uncertainty in your voice was impossible to miss.

Mike’s grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, a silent reassurance as he waited for you to continue.

“It’s just…” you began, your voice quieter now. “I wasn’t sure about coming here. I mean, after everything that happened with Josh’s sisters…”

Mike nodded, his expression growing more serious. “Yeah, I get that. It’s… a lot, being back here.”

“I was surprised he invited me,” you admitted, your fingers brushing over the hem of your coat. “It’s not like we were super close, you know? And with everything that happened, it just feels…” You trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Weird?” Mike offered gently.

“Yeah,” you said with a small nod. “

Mike was quiet for a moment, his thumb absently brushing over your shoulder. Then, with a small, playful smile, he said, “Well, at least there’s one good thing about you being here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Me,” he replied, his grin widening.

You groaned, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I try,” he said with a wink, but his tone shifted to something softer as he continued. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you came. And if you ever feel like it’s too much, or you’re not sure if you belong here, you can come to me. Anytime.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you found yourself looking up at him, your chest tightening slightly at the warmth in his expression. “Thanks, Mike,” you said softly.

“Hey, it’s what I’m here for,” he replied, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The sound of soft crunching snow caught your attention and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something moving just beyond the bench. You turned your head slightly and were greeted by the sight of a magnificent, curious elk with wide, inquisitive eyes and soft fur that glistened under the sunlight.

Beside you, Mike’s arm instinctively tightened around your shoulders, his fingers pressing against your jacket in a protective squeeze. It was only when he took in the elk’s nonchalant demeanor that his tension eased.

“Careful,” he said softly, his voice low and cautious.

“I’ll be fine,” you said, your tone calm as you gently slipped out from under his arm, much to his clear disappointment. He sat back, watching as you reached for your bag.

Fishing through it, you found the remainder of a snack you hadn’t finished earlier. Unwrapping it, you extended your hand toward the elk, holding the fruit out in your palm.

The elk stepped closer, its warm breath brushing against your hand as it sniffed at the offering. With surprising gentleness, it began nibbling on the fruit, its large tongue lapping at your palm as it ate. You chuckled softly, the sensation tickling your skin, and Mike fell silent, his gaze fixed on you.

He couldn’t look away. There was something magnetic about the way you smiled, your laugh so unguarded and genuine as you interacted with the massive animal. The sunlight filtered through the trees, catching in your hair and illuminating your face in a way that left Mike completely mesmerized. His mind spun with thoughts he couldn’t quite put into words.

God, you looked so good like this.

He glared at the elk. That thing was getting all of your attention and he found himself growing annoyed with the creature.

“Lucky bastard,” Mike muttered under his breath as he drank in the sight of you.

When the snack was finished, the elk gave your hand one last affectionate lick before lifting its head and turning away, ambling back into the trees with a serene grace that only added to Mike’s begrudging admiration of the animal.

As you looked down, brushing the moisture from your hands, your gaze fell on the perfect mound of snow at your feet. An idea struck, and your lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Hey,” you said, drawing his attention. “Could you check my bag? I think I might’ve left my phone in there.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure,” Mike said, blinking as he snapped out of his trance. He leaned forward, reaching for your bag with a slight frown of concentration.

The second his focus shifted, you bent down, scooping up a handful of snow and packing it quickly into a tight ball.

By the time Mike turned back to you, his hand holding your bag the snowball has already been launched, striking him squarely in the chest.

“Bullseye!” you declared, grinning triumphantly as the snow splattered across his jacket. “Right in the heart!”

Mike stared down at the mess for a moment, then looked up at you with wide eyes and an exaggerated expression of betrayal.

“That’s it,” he said, dropping the bag unceremoniously onto the bench as he bent down to scoop up a handful of snow, his voice a mix of disbelief and humor. “You’re dead.”

He soon hurled a snowball at you. You dodged to the side, laughing as the snow missed you by inches and you started collecting more snow for your next attack.

What followed was a chaotic, exhilarating flurry of snowballs and laughter as the two of you launched attack after attack, dodging and weaving across the snow-covered ground.

The next throw was fast and while you managed to shield yourself with your arm, it distracted you just long enough for Mike to close the distance. He tackled you rapidly, his arms wrapping around you as the two of you tumbled onto the soft, powdery snow.

You landed on your back with Mike hovering over you, his weight carefully balanced so he didn’t crush you. His face was flushed from the cold and exertion, but his grin was wide and triumphant, his breath visible in the chilly air.

“Gotcha,” he said, his voice low and teasing as his hands pinned your wrists gently in the snow.

Your laughter faded as you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

The intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, his usual playful demeanor softening into something deeper as he took in the sight of you your flushed cheeks, your bright smile, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath.

His heart was pounding in his chest.

Mike’s hand moved to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek as his grin turned softer, more sincere. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he murmured, his voice warm and full of meaning.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both bold and tender.

The snowy ground beneath you was cold, but the heat radiating from Mike’s body made it feel distant. His kiss deepened, growing more fervent, his lips capturing yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

His arms encircled your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him, your bodies pressed so closely together that you could feel every contour of his broad, muscular frame.

The kiss was unrelenting, his tongue exploring every part of your mouth with a possessive fervor. His light beard scraped against your skin, the sensation adding a sharp edge to the soft heat of his lips.

When he finally pulled away, both of you gasping for air, he didn’t go far. His mouth trailed down your jawline, leaving a burning path of open-mouthed kisses. He moved to your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there before sucking lightly, his tongue darting out to soothe the marks he left.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless.

You shivered beneath him, your hands clutching at his jacket as he kissed lower, his teeth grazing your collarbone. His hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly as his mouth returned to your neck, sucking and nipping with a mix of tenderness and urgency.

When his lips found yours again, the kiss was almost brutal in its intensity. His tongue slid against yours, dipping into your mouth to claim and explore, the wet, heated clash of it making your head spin. He shifted his weight slightly, pressing you further into the snow, his hands moving with purpose as he tugged at the waistband of your pants.

The question was silent but clear, his dark eyes meeting yours with an unspoken need. You nodded quickly, unable to trust your voice not to betray how desperate you felt in that moment.

His lips quirking into a brief, cocky grin before his focus returned to his task.

He pushed your pants down just far enough to expose your ass, the cool air biting at your skin for only a moment before his hand was there, warm and firm, kneading the soft flesh. His other hand wrapped around your length, stroking you slowly at first, the friction maddening in its contrast to the urgency in the rest of his movements.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone low and rough as he watched your reactions. “So perfect. All mine.”

The words sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching as his fingers pressed against your entrance. He didn’t waste time, his impatience evident as he worked his fingers inside, the stretch a sharp but delicious contrast to the heat building in your core.

His mouth returned to your neck, lips and teeth working in tandem to leave marks that were sure to bloom into dark bruises. His free hand continued to stroke you, the combined sensations pulling soft moans from your lips that only seemed to spur him on.

“Let me hear you. Let me know how good I’m making you feel,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips, your body arching into his touch as he added another finger, the stretch pushing you closer to the edge. His movements were fast, efficient, as if he couldn’t wait a second longer.

When he finally deemed you ready, he withdrew his fingers, the loss leaving you gasping. He leaned back slightly, his hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants as he freed himself, the sight of his length sending a mix of anticipation and nervousness through you. He was big, thick and achingly hard, the head glistening with precum as he stroked himself once, twice, before positioning himself at your entrance.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his voice softer now, though the urgency in his movements remained.

You nodded, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts as you braced yourself. Slowly, he pushed forward, the thick head stretching you in a way that was both intense and indescribably good

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he slid further inside, the tight heat of you nearly driving him mad.

The stretch was overwhelming but addictive, each inch filling you in a way that left you gasping. Mike paused once he was fully seated, his breath ragged as he let you adjust.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself still.

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He groaned softly, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmured, “Good,” he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure as his hands roamed your body.

He pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, the force of it sending a shudder through your body. His rhythm started slow, deliberate, but quickly grew faster, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, until the cold snow beneath you felt like a distant memory.

One hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your face up so he could kiss you again, the angle messy and desperate as his tongue delved into your mouth.

The noises spilling from you only seemed to drive him further, his hips snapping against yours with a growing intensity. His hand left your jaw to grip your length again, stroking you in time with his thrusts, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confessed, his voice rough and breathless as he buried himself deep inside you.

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body tightening around him as your release built to a crescendo.

“Come for me, I want to feel you.” He murmured, his tone commanding yet tender.

With a cry of his name, you came, your body clenching around him as your release spilled over his hand.

The sensation of you tightening around him was enough to send him over the edge. With a deep, guttural groan, he thrust into you one last time, his release spilling deep inside you as his body trembled with the force of it.

Mike collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion.

And in that moment, with both of you painting heavily from the heat despite the cold surrounding you two, everything felt perfect.

ℳ𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒯𝒶𝓎𝓁ℴ𝓇

The crunch of snow underfoot was the only sound breaking the silence as you trudged down the icy trail, your breath visible in the frigid mountain air from cursing softly to yourself. The bag with your clothes was still in your car at the base of the mountain. Now you had to descend the trail and take the cable car again, with the sun already starting its lazy dip below the horizon.

Halfway down the path, you spotted Matt sitting on a rock, his shoulders slumped under the weight of unseen burdens.

His usually sunny demeanor had been replaced with a shadowed expression, his body language heavy and defeated. When he noticed you, he straightened, his dark eyes lighting up momentarily before dimming again, his face attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, the lodge is that way, you know,” he called, his voice tinged with forced humor as he gestured up the mountain.

You sighed, brushing a hand through your face as you tried not to think about all the long path you still had to do. “Yeah, I know, big guy. I left my damn bag with my clothes in the car.” You gestured vaguely down the path, your tone dry. “So now I’m on an impromptu adventure to go get it before the sun sets and I freeze my ass off”

Matt pushed himself up, brushing snow off his jacket. “You’re going down there? Now?” There was a faint note of concern in his voice. “It’s getting late.”

“Not like I have a choice.” You gave him a crooked smile, shrugging. “I’ve got these, don’t worry.” You flexe an arm in an exaggerated manner, earning a faint chuckle from him.

“Right,” he said, his grin flickering but quickly fading. His gaze dropped to the snow for a moment, as if he were weighing something heavy. Then, hesitantly, he glanced up again. “Mind if I, uh, tag along? You know, to keep you company…” His voice faltered briefly, but he picked it up again with a nervous laugh.

There was a vulnerability in his expression that tugged at you. His usual playful energy was subdued, like a lamp turned down to its lowest setting. It was unlike him this quietness.

“Sure,” you said, stepping forward and reaching out to grip his arm lightly. Your fingers brushed against the solid muscle beneath his jacket and he stiffened slightly under your touch, blinking at you in surprise. His throat went dry and his thoughts raced in a jumble of half-formed realizations.

You probably didn’t mean anything by it. But God, it felt like more. He tried not to stare, but his gaze kept flickering to you.

He had always admired you. You’d always been a little out of his league, at least in his mind, but that didn’t stop the small crush he’d harbored before everything went sideways. He thought about the way you smiled, the way you’d always been so kind to him. Maybe this was his chance to be someone you could see as more than just a friend.

For a beat, he didn’t say much, just walked alongside you in silence until you were face to face with the cabin. His lips twitched like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out. Finally, he cleared his throat, his voice quieter than usual. “Uh, I could help with your luggage, you know. If it’s too heavy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, your curiosity piqued. “luggage?” you teased lightly, quirking your lips into a smirk, “Matt, it’s just a bag. I can manage carrying my own clothes.”

“Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his gaze dropping to the snowy ground. “Seems like that’s all I’m good for, anyway.” His tone was soft, mostly murmured just for himself, but you caught the self-deprecating edge to it instantly.

You stopped walking, turning to face him with an offended look on your face. Matt nearly tripped over his own feet trying to stop alongside you.

“Matt,” you said, crossing your arms and fixing him with a look. “You cannot be serious right now. That’s all you think you’re good for? Carrying stuff? For other people?”

He blinked at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Don’t even try to defend yourself,” you stepped closer and poked a finger lightly against his chest. He looked down at your hand, the warmth spreading across his cheeks making him look ridiculously adorable.

“You’re telling me that’s all you’re good for? So what about all those insane jumps you pulled off last winter for your team? Or the fact that you can probably outrun anyone in your sport group? I'm still convinced you could play blindfolded. Not to mention your ridiculous strength. I mean, seriously, have you seen your arms?”

“I-uh… I guess—“ Matt stumbled with his own words at the series of compliments thrown his way.

“I’m not done,” you interrupted, a playful edge to your tone as you continued, stepping even closer. “It’s nice to be with you. You’re fun. People like you, Matt. I should be offended on your behalf for even thinking something so dumb. You’re so much more than that.”

Matt stood there frozen for a moment, his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Finally, he let out a breathless laugh, his face breaking into a shy, almost bashful smile.

"Uh… wow," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly. "I, uh… I didn't know you thought about me like that.”

"Of course I do," you grinned, giving his arm a playful squeeze before turning back to the trail. “Now come on, Matt. We still have a long way to go.”

As he followed you inside the cabin, his mind was spinning. The way you’d smiled at him, the way your voice had been filled with both teasing warmth and genuine sincerity flipped something in him. Any lingering doubt he’d had about his feelings for you dissolved right then and there.

Matt was officially, unequivocally head over heels.

The cabin swayed slightly as you stepped inside and took a seat close together, the old structure emitting a low groan that sent an unsettling vibration through your feet. You reached out instinctively, your hand landing on Matt's arm to steady yourself. His bicep tensed under your grip, solid and warm, the fabric of his jacket doing little to mask the muscles beneath.

Matt's breath hitched and his gaze darted to your hand for a split second before snapping back to your face. He noticed the way your expression tightened, your lips pressing into a thin line as you glanced out the window.

He didn't say anything, not wanting to draw attention to your nervousness.

When the cabin finally stabilized, the creaking subsiding, you exhaled in relief and your grip on his arm loosened. You pulled your hand back, murmuring something about how rickety the cabin felt, but Matt barely registered your words.

A pang of disappointment tugged at his chest.

He had already missed the moment, hadn't he? He cursed himself silently, his heart aching at how quickly the fleeting connection had slipped away.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as the cable car began its slow descent. You stared out the window, your face lit softly by the golden hues of the setting sun.

You didn't notice it at first, but when Matt turned to look at you fully, the sadness on his face was unmistakable. It was the same defeated look you'd seen earlier when you'd first run into him, only this time it cut deeper, like a wound reopening.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked suddenly, his voice low, almost a whisper. His eyes searched yours, filled with a vulnerability that made your heart twist. "With Emily, I mean. What could I have done differently?"

You turned to face him, your brow furrowing as frustration bubbled quietly in your chest. "Matt…" you started, your tone soft but firm. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But-"

"No, listen to me." You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder and his breath hitched again, his gaze flicking briefly to your hand before returning to your face. "You keep talking like you have to justify what happened, like if you had just been better somehow, she wouldn't have left. But that's not fair to you, Matt. Not even close."

He opened his mouth to protest, but you didn't give him the chance. The words came tumbling out, your frustration mingling with the need to comfort him. "You can't keep putting yourself in her shoes, trying to figure out what you did wrong when the truth is, you didn't deserve to be treated the way she treated you. You deserve good things too, you know?"

Matt's lips parted, but he said nothing, his throat working as he swallowed hard.

"And for the record," you added, a hint of teasing creeping into your voice to soften the intensity of your words, "It’s her loss. She's going to regret losing the best boyfriend she ever had. Meanwhile, you'll be off living your best life."

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down at the ground. "You really think that?"

"I know that," you replied, grinning now.

The smile on Matt's face grew, spreading slowly until it lit up his entire expression. He looked back up at you, his dark eyes shining with something warm, something vulnerable. For the first time in what felt like forever, he believed he deserved something good.

And right now, that good thing was sitting inches away from him.

You smiled back, though the intensity of his gaze when he looked up again sent a jolt through you. His face lit with an expression you couldn't quite place but it made your heart race all the same. You realized, belatedly, just how close the two of you had leaned toward each. His knee pressed against yours, his breath warm against your cheek as the cabin swayed gently.

Matt hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between yours as if searching for permission. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he raised a hand and cradled your cheek, his palm broad and calloused but impossibly gentle. Your breath caught as his thumb brushed lightly against your skin and before you could second-guess the moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The cable car rocked gently as the winter landscape stretched endlessly beyond the frosted windows. The dying light of the sunset bathed the mountains in fiery hues, the soft orange and pinks painting the snow with an ethereal glow. It was breathtaking. Something you'd expect to see on a postcard or an oil painting.

But as stunning as the scenery was, it couldn't hold a candle to what was happening inside the cabin.

Your hands were pressed against the cold surface of the mirror door, its frosted sheen reflecting the two of you in the dim light. Matt's sturdy body was flush against your back, his warmth sinking through your clothes and grounding you against the cool glass. A pair of warm lips were on your neck, slow and deliberate, each kiss sending a ripple of heat down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was soft, tentative, but there was an underlying hunger in it that made your stomach tighten.

You nodded, a small sound of affirmation slipping from your lips as his hands roamed over your body, strong and sure yet trembling ever so slightly.

One of them slid down to cup your ass, his fingers flexing against the curve as he pressed you closer to him. The heat of his touch burned through the fabric of your pants, making your breath hitch. Matt paused, his lips lingering against your neck as his grip faltered for a moment.

"I want to make sure you're okay," he whispered, his voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and desire.

"I'm okay," you assured him, your voice breathy but steady. Turning your head slightly, you caught his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. "I want this, Matt. I want you."

His eyes darkened at your words, a soft groan escaping him as he pressed his forehead briefly to the back of your head. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Matt's hands moved to your waistband, his fingers hesitating for a moment before undoing the button and zipper. He slid your pants and underwear down, baring you to the cool air of the cabin. His hands returned to your skin immediately, kneading the soft flesh of your ass as he let out a low, reverent sigh.

"You're so… perfect," he murmured, almost to himself, as his hands explored you.

Broad palms sliding over your hips, thumbs brushing the curve of your spine, fingers dipping lower to tease. He was taking his time, making sure you felt every ounce of his care and adoration.

When one finger pressed gently against your entrance, he paused again. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice earnest. His movements were careful and deliberate as he pressed the finger in slowly. The stretch was slight but noticeable and he paused to let you adjust, his free hand stroking soothing circles on your hip.

"You’re okay?" he asked, glancing up at your reflection in the mirror.

"Yes," you breathed, a small smile curving your lips. "You're doing perfect"

His expression softened at your words, his insecurity melting away under the weight of your trust. He added a second finger, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked to prepare you. The tension in your body eased under his care, the warmth of his touch chasing away any discomfort.

By the time he added a third finger, you were panting softly, your forehead resting against the mirror as you pushed back against his hand. Matt pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, "You're so good for me."

When he finally pulled his fingers away, you felt both relief and anticipation flood through you. You heard the rustle of fabric behind you as he undid his own pants and then, the unmistakable warmth of him pressed against your entrance.

Matt's voice was soft but filled with need as he asked one last time, "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, your voice firm despite the breathlessness in your tone. "I want you, Matt. Please."

The groan that escaped him was deep and throaty, filled with both desire and relief. He pressed forward slowly, the stretch of him filling you inch by inch as you gripped the mirror for support. He paused when he was fully seated, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tried to steady himself.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, your breath hitching as you adjusted to the fullness of him. "Yeah," you managed, "You feel incredible."

Matt let out a shaky laugh, his head resting on your shoulder as he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. His hands slid up and down your body, gripping and caressing, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The cabin swayed gently with his movements, the creak of the structure blending with the soft sounds of your shared pleasure.

As he found a rhythm, his lips returned to your neck, peppering kisses and soft bites along your skin. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless moan, and he groaned in response, his hips snapping forward with more urgency.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

Each snap of his hips sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, your moans echoing softly in the small cabin.

Matt's lips found your neck again, sucking and biting gently as he thrust into you, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough. One hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, angling it to pull you into a heated kiss as his other hand squeezed your ass, pulling you closer with every thrust.

The glass behind you fogged with your combined heat and the view outside was forgotten entirely as Matt buried himself inside you, his breath coming in ragged pants against your ear.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice hoarse, and you nodded, your own climax rapidly approaching.

"Me too," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body tensed.

His thrusts grew erratic, his grip tightening on your hips as he chased his release. When he finally came, it was with a deep groan, his body trembling against yours as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding through you.

The warmth of it sent you over the edge, and you cried out, clutching him tightly as pleasure washed over you in waves.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the quiet hum of the cable car the only sound as you both caught your breath. Then Matt wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

You turned your head slightly, catching his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. "So are you," you replied with a small, tired smile.

And for the first time in a long time, Matt felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 𝒲𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓉ℴ𝓃

Josh sat hunched over on the massive leather couch in the lodge's main room, his elbows digging into his knees and his head cradled between his hands. His fingers tangled into his hair, tugging lightly as he mumbled to himself, barely audible words blending into the eerie silence.

"Keep it together," he murmured under his breath, fingers curling tightly against his scalp. His voice was barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the wind howling against the windows. "Just… keep it together."

He repeated the words like a mantra, but they did little to quell the storm brewing inside him.

His sisters' faces flashed behind his eyelids, Beth's soft smile and Hannah's nervous laugh, and his stomach twisted like a vice.

His foot tapped a frantic rhythm against the floor and his gaze darted toward the hidden cameras he'd planted days before. They were all in place, every angle meticulously planned.

But it didn't feel controlled. Nothing ever felt controlled anymore.

The sudden knock at the door made him flinch. His head snapped up, his heart racing in his chest. It wasn't time yet. It was too early. He froze for a moment, his mind spinning.

Quietly, he rose from the couch, his socked feet making no sound against the hardwood floor. As casually as he could manage, he glanced around the room, his eyes darting to the hidden cameras he had set up earlier. They were all still there, their little red lights glowing faintly in the shadows.

Satisfied, he moved to the door, pulling it open with a practiced smile ready on his lips.

But the smile faltered the moment he saw you standing on the porch.

Josh didn't know what to do. His heart lurched painfully in his chest as he took you in, the cold wind brushing past you and ruffling your hair. You stood at the edge of the porch, your hands shoved deep into the pockets of your jacket, your shoulders hunched slightly against the cold.

"Hey," you said softly, offering a tentative smile.

Josh's throat felt tight and it took him a second longer than it should have to respond. "Hey," he said, his voice quieter than he intended.

There was an awkward pause, the kind that would've never existed between you before. Before his sisters. Before he pushed you away.

"Uh, come in," he said finally, stepping back to let you inside.

You nodded and stepped over the threshold, your boots squeaking slightly against the polished wood floor. Josh closed the door behind you, the lodge suddenly feeling much smaller with you in it.

He watched as you looked around, your expression shifting as your eyes moved over the familiar space. The place hadn't changed much, but he knew this place probably felt as haunted to you as it did to him.

"You're early," Josh said, breaking the silence. His voice sounded strange to his own ears-too casual, too detached.

"I wanted to talk to you," you said, turning to look at him. "Before everyone else got here."

Josh swallowed hard, his heart pounding again for a completely different reason.

"Oh."

Another pause.

He gestured to the couch. "Uh, sit? If you want, I mean."

You nodded and moved to the couch, sitting down on the edge as if you weren't sure you belonged there. Josh sat a little farther away, his hands resting awkwardly on his knees.

For a while, the conversation was surface-level-small talk about the weather, the drive up, little things that didn't mean much but filled the silence.

But even as you spoke, Josh couldn't stop his mind from wandering.

You looked good. Just like he remembered. Better, even. There was something about the way the firelight caught your face, the soft glow making you look almost ethereal.

He hated himself for pushing you away, for hurting you, for letting the walls he built around himself trap you on the outside.

He found himself fixating on the sadness in your eyes. It hadn't always been there. You used to look at him with so much warmth, so much trust. Now, you looked… fragile.

It made him sick.

He realized you'd said something and forced himself to tune back in, nodding as if he hadn't just been drowning in his own guilt.

"…I was worried about you," you were saying, your voice tinged with hesitation. "I mean, I still am."

Josh swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers curling into fists on his knees. He didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to admit that he wasn't okay without opening the floodgates.

"I missed you," you added after a moment, your voice quieter now.

That was the breaking point. Josh's breath hitched and he looked down at his hands, his vision blurring slightly at the edges.

"I missed you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Josh felt you shift slightly closer, your presence grounding him in a way he hadn't felt in months.

"I don't blame you for shutting me out. I know you were hurting. I just…" You hesitated, your voice breaking slightly. "I wish you'd let me help you."

Josh's chest tightened painfully, guilt and longing warring inside him. "I didn't want you to see me like that," he said, his voice raw. "I didn't want you to pity me."

"I never pitied you, Josh," you said firmly, your eyes locking onto his. "I love you."

Josh's heart pounded as your words lingered in the air.

It was both a balm and a dagger.

He wanted to believe it was still true. That somewhere, beneath the sadness in your eyes and the awkward distance between you, that love remained. But as you sat there, your voice soft and soothing, his thoughts began to twist, spiraling back into the familiar chaos that had consumed him over the past months.

His gaze drifted to the cameras he'd hidden, their red lights blinking faintly in the dim light. He hadn't planned for you to arrive early, hadn't prepared himself to see you alone, so exposed. You were supposed to be with the others, part of the game, part of the plan.

But now you were here, sitting so close, your presence stirring something raw and conflicted inside him.

Should he spare you?

The question lingered like a shadow in his mind. You weren't supposed to be here, not yet. If he told you to leave, to get far away from this place before the others arrived, he could keep you safe. But if he kept you here, then what? Would you understand him when it was all over?

Only one thing became clear to him.

He didn't want to lose you again.

"Josh?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, grounding him, and he realized he'd been silent for too long.

He looked up at you, his expression softening as he met your gaze. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice rough. "I was… thinking."

"About what?" you asked, leaning forward slightly.

Josh hesitated, his fingers twitching against his knees. "About us," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, your lips parting slightly in surprise. "Us?"

"Yeah," he said, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair.

"I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. About what I did. How I pushed you away."

Your expression softened, a flicker of sadness crossing your face. "Josh, you were hurting. I understood that."

"That doesn't make it okay," he said quickly, his voice gaining a sudden intensity. "I shouldn't have shut you out. I shouldn't have—" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

"I shouldn't have let you go."

The silence that followed was heavy, but Josh pushed through it, his eyes locking onto yours.

"You were the best thing in my life," he said, his voice raw and unsteady. "And I ruined it. I ruined us. And for what? So I could sit here and drown in my own misery?

"Josh—"

"No, let me finish," he said, his hand reaching out to grab yours. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I don't expect you to forgive me," he said softly, his thumb still tracing slow circles on your hand. "I don't even know if I deserve it. But I want to try. I want to fix what I broke, if you'll let me."

You didn't respond right away and the silence stretched between you. Josh's mind raced, doubt creeping in like a cold wind, but then you squeezed his hand gently, your expression softening.

"I missed you," you said simply, your voice trembling slightly.

Josh's breath hitched, and he felt something warm and fragile bloom in his chest. "I missed you too," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Josh felt his paranoia waver, the weight of his plans slipping to the back of his mind as he leaned closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, your breath warm against his skin, and he hesitated for just a moment before closing the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant and unsure. As your lips moved against his, it deepened. Josh's hands cupped your face, his fingers trembling slightly as he poured everything he couldn't say into the kiss.

It ignited something in Josh he hadn't felt in so long it nearly overwhelmed him. A year's worth of bottled-up emotions exploded all at once as your lips pressed against his, soft but insistent.

His hands slid up to cup your face, his fingers trembling slightly as they moved to tangle in your hair. He kissed you deeper, harder, his breath hitching when you pressed closer, your body fitting perfectly against his.

When you broke away for air, both of you gasping, his lips trailed along your jawline, then down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses against your skin.

"Josh," you murmured, your voice breathy, and the sound of his name on your lips made his knees go weak.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as his hands gripped your waist. "I need you so bad."

Your answer was a soft moan as you pulled him back into another kiss, your hands tugging at his shirt, your urgency matching his. He let out a low groan, helping you push the fabric over his head before his hands found their way under your shirt, his fingers splaying across your warm skin.

He wanted to memorize every inch of you, to re-learn every curve and angle of your body. The feel of your skin against his palms sent his mind spiraling, and he found himself unable to focus on anything else.

Somehow, the two of you managed to stumble off the couch, your hands fumbling with each other's clothes as you made your way to his room. Josh couldn't stop kissing you, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

When you finally reached his room, he pressed you against the door, his chest heaving as he looked at you. Your shirt was hanging off one shoulder, your lips swollen from his kisses and the sight of you made his heart ache in the best way.

"You're so handsome," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "God, I want you."

Josh let out a shaky breath, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs as he lifted you, carrying you to the bed. He laid you down gently, his eyes raking over your body as he climbed on top of you, his lips finding yours again.

Every kiss filled with unspoken emotion as his hands roamed your body, his touch reverent as if he were afraid you might disappear. He slid his fingers under the waistband of your pants, his breath hitching when he felt how warm and soft your skin was.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly as he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. "Yes, Josh. I want you."

His heart swelled at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you again as he carefully removed your pants, leaving you bare beneath him. He took a moment to drink in the sight of you, his hands trailing over your thighs as he whispered, "You're perfect."

He reached into the drawer beside his bed, pulling out a bottle of lube. His hands trembled slightly as he poured some onto his fingers, the anticipation building in his chest as he positioned himself between your legs.

Your trust in him is evident in the way you relaxed beneath him. Josh's heart pounded as he pressed a finger against your entrance, the slickness of the lube making the motion smooth. He pushed in slowly, his breath hitching when he felt the tightness around his finger.

How was he supposed to handle this?

He worked you open carefully, his free hand stroking soothingly along your thigh as he added a second finger. Your soft moans filled the room, each sound going straight to his already hard cock.

Josh added a third finger, his movements deliberate as he stretched you, preparing you for what was to come.

When he finally pulled his fingers away, he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock aching with the need to be inside you, his breath hitching as he pushed forward slowly, the tight heat of you surrounding him inch by inch. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he bottomed out, his body trembling from the sheer intensity of the feeling.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice rough as he began to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first.

Josh's hands roamed your body, gripping and caressing as he poured every ounce of his emotion into his movements.

When he finally reached his peak, his body tensed and he let out a deep groan as he spilled deep inside, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he buried himself as deep as he could.

The only sounds audible were your ragged breaths and the faint creak of the bed beneath you. Josh collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓎

You pressed your gloved hand against the cold rock face, steadying yourself as you climbed up the wall near the lodge gate. The gate had been locked and you'd found yourself scaling the icy terrain instead of taking the easy way in.

As you hoisted yourself onto the top ledge, you heard a familiar voice from below.

"Hey! Was there a lot of traffic, or did you just take the scenic route?"

You looked down to see your older sister, Sam, standing at the bottom of the wall with her hands on her hips, a bemused expression on her face.

"It was a nightmare," you shot back. "Endless hours of brake lights and honking. And to top it off, there was a note from Chris on the gate saying it's locked, so I had to climb up here like I'm in an action movie."

Sam groaned, tilting her head back dramatically. "Of course it's broken."

"Your turn, big sis. Want me to guide you?" You said with a grin, holding out a hand.

Sam rolled her eyes, but the hint of a smirk tugged at her lips as she grabbed onto the wall and started to climb. You stayed close, offering encouragement and holding out your hand when she struggled for the final push. "C'mon, I've got you."

With one last huff, Sam grabbed your hand and you pulled her up and over the top. The two of you jumped down together, landing with a satisfying crunch in the snow below.

The path to the cabin cable was peaceful, the sound of snow crunching underfoot the only noise. The trees stretched overhead, their branches heavy with snow and the cold mountain air was sharp but refreshing. As you approached the cable car station, Sam pointed toward a bench near the platform.

"There's Chris’s bag," she said, gesturing toward the familiar backpack sitting against the wooden bench.

"But no Chris," you added, scanning the snowy clearing. "Chris?" you called out, your voice carrying through the stillness

There was no response, only the faint rustle of wind through the trees. You frowned, walking a few steps forward as your gaze swept the area. "Where'd he go? He wouldn't just leave his stuff out here, right?"

"Maybe he is inside the bag," Sam suggested, her tone humorous.

You were about to call out again when you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Turning, you spotted Sam crouched near Chris's bag, her head bent slightly as she stared at something in her hands.

"Are you snooping through Chris's phone?" you asked, your voice filled with mock scandal.

Sam looked up at you, her expression unapologetic as she smiled. "No," she replied, holding the phone out of your reach.

"Uh-huh. And you didn't think to invite me?" you teased, stepping closer to her. "Come on, let me see."

She laughed, shielding the screen with her body. "No way. I know what's best for you, little brother."

"Oh, come on," you protested, craning your neck to try and catch a glimpse of the screen.

"Trust me," Sam said, her tone teasing as she stood up and held the phone behind her back. "You don't need to see this."

"That just makes me want to see it more," you countered, crossing your arms.

Sam laughed again, but as you reached for the phone, she turned her back to you completely. For a brief moment, her expression softened as she glanced at the screen. The chat was still open on your conversation with Chris, and she debated what to do.

Should she tell you how Chris saved your name?

Her lips twitched as she imagined your reaction, the flush of embarrassment that would spread across your face. But ultimately, she decided against it for now.

The stillness of the snowy clearing was shattered by a loud rustle and a sudden, unexpected voice.

You and Sam both jumped, a startled yelp escaping her as you instinctively took a step towards your sister. Chris appeared from behind her, grinning like a kid who'd just successfully pulled off a prank.

"Geez, Chris!" Sam said, her hand clutching her chest as she glared at him.

"Did I accidentally hire you as my secretary?" He pointed at the phone on Sam’s hand before taking it back.

You rolled your eyes, your lips curving into a smirk. "Sorry, sir. We didn't realize your bag was a classified area."

"Alright, alright. I'll take better care of my precious belongings in the future, starting with finding new friends. Now come here. I've got something to show you." he said, motioning for you and Sam to follow him.

He led you a little further down the path until you reached a small clearing. A wooden structure loomed ahead. A rustic shooting range, complete with a rifle resting on the counter and several targets set up in the distance.

Chris turned around, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "Ta-da!" he announced, gesturing grandly at the range.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "So, your 'cool find' is a place to shoot stuff?” She shook her head in disbelief.

Chris turned his full attention to you. "What do you say? Are you interested in seeing just how great my aim is?” Chris said, his grin widening as he moved toward the old rifle propped up on a stand.

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk growing. "Alright, Chris. Impress me."

“Gladly," Chris said, his grin turning smug as he stepped up to the line.

“You’re about to see a true marksman in action." He picked up the rifle, turning toward you with a cocky tilt of his head.

Sam snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "This I've gotta see."

He took his time setting up, his movements exaggerated just enough to make you roll your eyes. He aimed the rifle, his gaze narrowing as he focused on the first can.

The shot rang out, the sound echoing through the small space as the can flew off the railing. Chris straightened, a satisfied grin on his face as he turned to you.

"Not bad," you admitted, leaning against the wall.

"Not bad?" Chris repeated, feigning offense. "That was a perfect shot!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Everyone could hit something so big that close."

"Challenge accepted," Chris said, aiming for the next target.

As he continued to fire, his tone grew more playful, his remarks directed almost exclusively at you.

"If you ever find yourself in a zombie apocalypse, I'm definitely the guy you want by your side," he said after hitting another can.

"Good to know," you replied, your smile widening.

Sam clapped her hands together, breaking the moment.

"Alright, lovebirds," she said, pushing off the wall. "Let's move this along before we freeze out here."

Chris laughed, shaking his head as he set the rifle back on its stand.

The cold air hit your face and you couldn't help but glance at Chris, his easy grin still firmly in place. He met your gaze, his expression softening slightly and for a moment, the chill of the mountain didn't feel quite so sharp.

The hum of the cable car grew louder as it approached, its bright light piercing the snowy dusk. You, Sam, and Chris made your way to the platform, the crisp mountain air biting at your cheeks as you walked.

"Finally," Sam muttered, hugging herself with both her arms. "I thought this thing would never get here."

The three of you stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of snow crunching underfoot the only noise. But as the cable car slowed to a stop, Sam turned to you, her brow furrowing slightly as she remembered something.

"Hey," she said, tilting her head, "did you lock your car?"

Her words hit like a bolt of lightning. You froze, your mind racing as you tried to recall the last few moments before you'd left the parking lot. Had you locked the doors? Pressed the button on your keys? The memory was frustratingly blank.

"I…" you began, but the uncertainty in your tone betrayed you.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Go check before you give yourself a heart attack."

You let out a groan, already turning toward the trail that led back to the parking lot. "I'll be right back. Don’t wait for me."

As you jogged away, Sam turned to Chris, who stood awkwardly on the platform, shuffling his feet. His gaze flickered between you and the cable car and he hesitated, his mouth opening as if to speak but then closing again.

Sam raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle war in his expression. "Well?" she said, nodding toward your retreating figure.

Chris's eyes widened slightly. "Uh, you mean…?"

"Go," Sam said, her voice warm but firm. She smiled knowingly, crossing her arms as she stepped toward the cable car. "He'll appreciate the company. And, you know, you might actually get to talk to him."

Chris blinked at her, his hesitation melting into a sheepish grin. "You sure? I mean, I don't want t-"

"Chris," Sam interrupted, her smile widening. "It's fine. Go."

Grinning proudly now, Chris nodded and took off after you, his boots crunching against the snow as he jogged to catch up.

"Hey!"

The sound of Chris's breathless voice made you turn, and you couldn't help but laugh as you saw him bent over, hands on his knees, his chest heaving. "Out of shape already?" you teased, folding your arms as you waited for him to recover.

Chris shot you a mock glare, though his grin betrayed him. "I'll have you know," he said between breaths, "I am in excellent shape. I just… wasn't prepared for the sudden cardio." He protested, straightening up and adjusting his glasses. "This altitude is killer. Plus, I'm carrying, like, two extra layers."

You shook your head, laughing softly as the two of you began walking back toward the parking lot. Chris stayed close to your side, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as he glanced at you every now and then, his grin lingering.

When you finally reached your car, you pulled the keys from your pocket and pressed the button. The lights flashed, confirming the doors were locked, and you let out a relieved sigh.

"Well, crisis averted," you said, slipping the keys back into your pocket.

You glanced at the next cable car making its slow descent down the mountain, its light barely visible through the snow. With a shrug, you turned and hopped onto the hood of your car, brushing some of the snow away before settling down.

Chris hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, leaning against the side of the car with his arms crossed. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as he watched you.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

You hesitated, your fingers idly tracing patterns in the thin layer of snow beside you. "I don't know," you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's weird being back here after… everything."

Chris nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah. It's been a lot, hasn't it?"

"More than I thought it would be," you said, letting out a soft sigh. "Part of me wasn't sure if I even wanted to come."

Chris was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground. Then, with a small, teasing smile, he said, "You know, we could just bail. We'll head to my place, order a ton of pizza and spend the whole night beating my game library. What do you say?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the suggestion managed to ease some of the tension in your chest. "Tempting," you admitted, shaking your head.

"The offer's always on the table," Chris said, grinning. But then his smile softened and he took a small step closer. "In all seriousness, though…"

He placed a hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "I think this is a good thing," he said, his voice steady. "Coming back here, I mean. It's a chance to… I don't know, start over. Maybe even get things back to how they used to be."

You looked up at him, your chest tightening at the earnestness in his gaze. "You think so?"

"I know so," he replied, his grin returning. "And, hey, if it gets to be too much, you've got me. Anytime you need to vent, or take a break, or… you know, crush me in Mario Kart or something. I'm here."

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and you felt a small smile tug at your lips. "Thanks, Chris," you said softly.

"Anytime," he replied, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment longer before he stepped back.

Chris felt your hands on his shoulders. His breath hitched as he looked down at you, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the soft, warm smile on your face.

God, you look so good when you smile like that.

The thought came unbidden, but he didn't push it away. How could he? You were so close, your face lit by the soft glow of the sun’s distant light and the way you were looking at him was enough to make his chest tighten.

Chris couldn't help but notice how much brighter you seemed in this moment, even though he knew this place carried so many heavy memories. The fact that you could still smile like that, still radiate that warmth despite everything, left him feeling both in awe and completely unworthy of you.

And then you spoke, your voice pulling him from his thoughts.

"Hannah and Beth's disappearance," you began softly, your smile faltering just slightly, "it made me realize how quickly everything can change. Like, in just a couple of minutes, your whole life can be flipped upside down. It scared me," you admitted, your voice quieter now. "It made me think about how much I keep inside, how much I don't say because I'm too afraid, or I think it's not the right time."

You paused, letting out a small, self-deprecating laugh. "But who knows? Maybe tonight some monster will show up and kill me in the snow. So…"

Chris blinked at your attempt at humor, though his heart was already racing. He felt a rush of nervous energy flood through him and when you tilted your head up to look at him, the sudden proximity made his breath hitch.

"What—" he began, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound steadier. "What is it you wanted to say?"

His eyes betrayed him, flickering down to your lips for a fraction of a second before darting back up to meet your gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of excitement and panic swirling in his mind as he waited for your response.

You hesitated, your expression shifting into something more vulnerable. Chris could see the nerves in your eyes, the way your hands fidgeted slightly against his shoulders.

"I like you, Chris. " you began, your voice barely audible. You took a shaky breath, your gaze dropping briefly before meeting his again. “I've liked you for a long time."

The confession hung in the air, your words fragile but sincere. Chris froze, his mind racing as he tried to process what you'd just said. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

His gaze flicked to your lips again, the movement unintentional but impossible to stop.

"You…" he began again, his voice shaky. "You have no idea how long I've—" He cut himself off, his breath catching as you leaned in, your eyes never leaving his.

The first brush of your lips against his was so soft, so tentative, it felt like a spark catching fire. Chris's breath hitched, his body going rigid for a split second before he melted into the kiss, his hands lifting to rest lightly on your waist.

The world seemed to fade away. Everything disappeared, leaving only the warmth of your lips moving against his.

Chris's heart pounded as he tilted his head, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as he pulled you closer. His lips moved against yours with more confidence now.

You made a soft sound in the back of your throat and the noise sent a jolt of electricity down Chris's spine. He couldn't stop himself from pressing closer, his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if to anchor himself to the moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping softly for air, Chris didn't move far. His forehead rested against yours, his glasses slightly fogged from the warmth of your breath.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his thumbs still stroking your cheeks. "I've liked you too. For so long. I just… I didn't think…"

He trailed off, his words failing him as he searched your face. His heart ached at the mix of nervousness and hope in your expression and he let out a shaky laugh, his lips curving into a small, self-deprecating smile.

"I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to say it," he admitted softly. "You're amazing, smart and funny. I’m just some guy that cracks jokes with an awful aim."

"Your aim isn't that bad," you teased, your voice lighter now as you leaned into his touch.

Chris laughed, the sound soft and breathless. "You're my best shot," he said, his tone turning teasing but his eyes holding a depth of sincerity that made your chest tighten.

You smiled, your hands sliding from his shoulders to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat under your palms. "You're such a dork,” you murmured fondly.

"Yeah," he agreed, his grin turning sheepish. "But I'm your dork now, right?"

Your smile widened, and before you could reply, Chris leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was deeper, more confident, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head as he poured every ounce of his feelings into the movement.

His lips were soft but insistent, his touch firm yet tender as he held you close. The warmth of his body against yours was enough to chase away the chill of the snow around you, leaving you completely caught up in the moment.

Chris didn't care about the cold, or the time, or the fact that the cable car was probably waiting. The only thing that mattered was you.

When you pulled back again, your breath mingling in the cold air, Chris let out a soft, almost dazed laugh. "Wow," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was… wow."

Your smile returned and Chris felt his chest swell with something he could only describe as pure happiness.

Note: Do you have a favorite among the four? I think you all know which one is mine, but I’d love to hear your thoughts! <3 I’m also open to any feedback or constructive criticism you might have.

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ilanarose7 · 8 months ago

Text

Some outcomes of Critical Role episode 91 (that happened either because of or completely separate from the big thing)

SPOILERS!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

Starting with the ones not due to FCG's sacrifice:

Liliana has some level of trust and attempts at redemption with her daughter (those 31's on deception and persuasion Laura you legend!), which means a major player (and VESSEL?? tf was that about) who was formerly (and maybe kind of still) on Ludinus's side is swapping over

Ashton and Fearne are about to be exhausted from being Titans (Ashton much sooner since they powered up in ep. 90)

Zathuda is both proud and angry towards Fearne which is both terrifying and a bit heartwarming(?)

Nana (I think/hope it was her bending fate) was able to help Team Infiltration escape the Weavemind after Orym reached out

Now for the other outcomes due to FCG's sacrifice:

Orym's deal with Nana should be void since the group cannot return as they were (VM Spoiler Note: Liam's PC was finally saved from a deal leading to a life of service by Sam's PC after he wasn't able to in C1)

Chetney is ALIVE! I'm counting this as part of the sacrifice bc due to weird leveling circumstances Sam sacrificed his one brand-new 7th-level spell slot to take Revivify, which is a major thing to give up

Otohan is DEAD! GONE! That is a MAJOR player off the board and another one of Ludinus's high-ranking members off the board

FCG is dead, seemingly unrevivable based on how Matt phrased it (asking to make sure Sam understood what it meant). That will have MAJOR implications going forward.

On a D&D technical level, there is no primary healer meaning that Fearne has to take some healing spells or the party can't heal at all (pretty sure they used up all their potions during that fight).

On a character level, this is going to be devastating. Ashton, who started this whole adventure with FCG and has been saying for a LONG time that FCG was going to get themself killed, was unconscious when FCG made the ultimate sacrifice. Sending works, which means when they get back to Exandria, Imogen will probably be the one to let FRIDA know what happened.

On a slightly lighter note, I feel like Travis is going to shine next week. It's been said before and I'll say it again, Chetney is the heart of Bells Hells. He knows how to be there for this family and I have a feeling that will come to the forefront as we see the aftermath

I'm sure there are more outcomes, but these are the ones on my mind after barely sleeping last night following that episode. Sam knows how to play this game well and cuts straight to the heart while doing so. It was masterfully played and while completely devastating to watch, was also incredibly heroic and beautiful.

Good game, great players, amazing DM, and of course thank you Fresh Cut Grass for being a Faithful Care-Giver until the end

#cr spoilers #critical role #fcg #bells hells #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #orym of the air ashari #laudna #imogen temult #chetney pock o'pea #im still emotionally wrecked #when matt started crying i completely lost it #by all means this would have been a tpk if not for fcg #sam riegel has done it again

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felassan · 2 days ago

Text

Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 3. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Two]

Ran out of characters or something in post 2. :)

User: "I LOVE the line "a raw, strangling fear, struck somewhere deep past the heart". It's beautiful and it resonates with me since I myself struggle with anxiety. Now for the questions! 1) Can you talk more about the banter between Emmrich and Harding after we start romancing him? What is her motivation behind it? Is she critical of their relationship or is she worried about Emmrich? 2) I love the argument Rook and Emmrich have before Tearstone Island, it gives nice depth to their relationship. But what did Emmrich think he would accomplish with that conversation? Did he want to break up with Rook because he thought it would be easier for him if something happened to Rook? 3) Not a question but I love Hezenkoss. Such a dedicated hater lol. -- Sylvia Feketekuty: "That was one of the first lines where I started to feel I had a handle on his voice in the first draft, so that means a lot to hear. (And thank you for noting the team effort, I got a lot of great feeback from the other writers and the editors on Emmrich. He wouldn't be as good without them.) On to questions: 1) My personal take: I think Harding is worried because she's very perceptively noticed how hard Emmrich's fallen for Rook, and that he's a man of large emotions. (And because they become pretty good friends over the course of the game.) 2) I think Emmrich let his anxieties run away with him, afraid that this romance wasn't, couldn't possibly be the One True Love he so wanted, and that's how his fear expressed itself. (Did he WANT to break up? No, but he was bracing himself in case Rook did think it was only a fling and so on and so forth, they should get it out in the open, and so on.) 3) Thank you! I loved writing her. She will always be a hater until her (un)dying day."" [source, two, three, four, five, six] -- John Epler: "someday we'll get the Hezenkoss/Anaris reluctant team-up the world deserves" [source] -- Sylvia: "Somehow, in the realm of pure imagination, they're already trying to strangle each other." [source] -- User: "Very important question- would Anaris finger gun? (Finger crossbow?)" -- John: "as a man defined primarily by his tremendous insecurities Anaris also takes himself incredibly seriously and unconsciously mirrors Elgar'nan, an elf he both loathes and desperately wishes he were so the real question is, would Elgar'nan finger gun?" [source]

User: "On my 1st run I thought some choices felt like the 'bad' ones and avoided them - Lich Emmerich, Harding's Anger, Qunari Taash etc. But on my 2nd run I was so pleasantly surprised to see that it wasn't the case! None of the companion choices feel right or wrong, just different, and that's fantastic." / Sylvia: "Thanks! We tried to make either choice compelling, to have something for different players either way. So I'm so glad to hear that." [source]

User, on Manfred winning a character award: "Congrats Manfred we knew you had it in you!" / Sylvia: "He did it! My little skeleton pal did it! (Especial thanks to the animators and voice actor, Matt Mercer, because like 90% of his personality lives in those gangly limbs and his hissing)" [source]

User: "I just wanted to say that Emmerich and Josephine are so interesting and well-written" / Sylvia: "I feel very lucky I got to bring them into DA, with teams that went for them 100%." [source]

User: "I enjoyed Emmrich's addendum to the codex about Templars in Nevarra: are they primarily there as backup if something goes profoundly wrong? Would they ever get someone who just wants to help down in the Necropolis, pretty please? (also <3 Vorgoth, they're great)" / Sylvia: ""are they primarily there as backup if something goes profoundly wrong?" That was my own take. You don't NOT want Templars, in case some ritual gets disrupted in an utterly disastrous fashion. But other times...the Mortalitasi flex their clout. "Would they ever get someone who just wants to help down in the Necropolis, pretty please?" Some Watchers might not be immune to flattery. I think a few templars could be all right under some circumstances, but that they'd be assigned a mage. (A bit of a reverse of the southern mage-templar pairs.) "(also <3 Vorgoth, they're great)" Thank you! I was so pumped when I saw the final art for them, everything I'd dreamed. (And their voice actor, Brent Mukai, was amazing.)" [source, two, three]

User: "I wanted to ask you what you think nevarran wedding attire might look like? or if you’ve considered it? asking for science." / Sylvia: "Geeze, that's a good question. I imagine the couple would exchange some custom-made grave gold pieces to mark the occasion, given how important it is in Nevarra. But other than that, you should let your imagination run wild." [source]

User: "Is seeing Josephine as Asexual or part of the Ace Spectrum a valid interpretation of her character?" / Sylvia: "Totally, if that's how you want to see the character and relationship. (My policy is generally that if it's not directly contradicted in the game, you can take that kind of thing as a valid read of the character.)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'll say this (spoiler free): there's a scene in "Walking the Graves" where I felt Emmrich's voice finally click for me on the first draft, so that one's special to me." [source]

User: "I remembered some questions I had about Emmrich.. Can he play any instruments? I always invision him playing a pipe organ or maybe violin! If not, are there any he would like to learn? 😊 Also, I was curious, can he ice skate? out on that frozen Nevarran lake in winter" / Sylvia: "Those are interesting questions. Because they're something I never considered or wrote, there's no real canon there yet. I see Emmrich as more an appreciator of music than a musician, but can't rule it out. As for ice-skating, I'm not even sure we've shown that in Thedas. I think Emmrich would enjoy it though. UPDATE: a friend reminded me about this tidbit from World of Thedas 2: "Ice skating – during the winter in Nevarra, people often skate on the frozen over Minanter river." So it's canon now. Emmrich ice-skates. He instantly manifests a scarf when doing so. (I fall on my sword for forgetting this.)" [source, two, three]

User: "about Josephine: what would her ideal/dream wedding be? I was tickled when I read about that in her letter to her Inquisitor I just have to know" / Sylvia: "what a delightful question in turn! I think she'd want a big, flower-filled, no-holds barred wedding at her family's estate. All her relatives, friends she made in the Inquisition, the Inquisitor's relatives (if they have any/keep in touch.) She'd begin planning 16 months in advance." [source]

Sylvia: "Aw thank you! (On behalf of me, and the rest of the team, so many people worked so hard on our eccentric necromancer man.)" [source]

Sylvia: "The Mourn Watch and Emmrich are a bit eccentric, but I really wanted their reverence for the dead (and the living) to feel genuine." [source]

User: "As someone who himself gets awful pangs about the thought of death and nothingness, it was really refreshing to see a character have those same thoughts as me, especially as he also happens to be a Necromancer who is around death daily." / Sylvia: "You're welcome, and thanks for the kind words. It's a familiar thing for me too, so I really wanted to talk about it. I suspect it's far more common than we might think." [source]

User: "My HOF was a spirit healer, very kind & very curious, & for years I've considered how that special connection to spirits might lend itself to an interest in Thedan necromancy & puzzling out where spirits & souls begin & end. Emmrich, Manfred/Curiosity and the wisps gave me so much to think about!" / Sylvia: "Thank you so much! And that's interesting about your HOF. They may've found some kindred spirits if they ever ventured further north." [source]

User: "No questions other than thank you and the team for Emmrich and Nevarra / The Mourn Watch. Seeing death treated with such kindness, empathy and as beautiful renewal rather than grim end is so refreshing and personal to me, it was a great experience to have!" / Sylvia: "That's one of the things I really wanted to express in Emmrich's arc, so I'm so glad you felt that way." [source]

User: "I feel that my Rook would want to learn more about the Mourn Watch after saving the world." / Sylvia: "Emmrich and the Watchers would love that. Emmrich probably has like, five lectures he could rattle off without preparation for your Rook already, haha." [source]

User: "do you have any favorite tidbits about Audric or Myrna that you can share?" / Sylvia: "As for tidbits, hrm. I did post something on what Audric's up to these days. Nothing surprising, but he's doing well! And I never wrote it in-game, so it lives in the hazy world of "only canon in my head": while Emmrich doesn't come from nobility, Myrna does-the Van Markham branch. She had the finest education, even before the Watchers. She doesn't play it up much, though. Her real passion's her work. And the theater. (I did a small bit about her love of theater here [link or see Post Two]. I think she's a regular attendee.)" [source, two, three]

Sylvia: "I also really wanted to explore more of the Necropolis ever since I first read about it. I'm very lucky the team and I finally got to show everyone the crypts..." [source]

User: "he stories, the worldbuilding, the characters, the locations, I loved it all so much I played my MW Rook twice" / Sylvia: "Nice. The Mourn Watch appreciates your studious interest in the hallowed art of necromancy." [source]

Sylvia: "thank you on behalf of the whole team, as you've surmised there were a lot of people bringing him to life. (Especial props to Nick Borraine, his VA, who's wonderful in the role.)" [source]

Sylvia: "It always makes me happy when people mention the short stories, and glad you enjoyed meeting (and perhaps romancing...) Emmrich." [source]

Sylvia, on Vorgoth: "I'm afraid I deliberately left our cloak-shrouded Watcher a mystery. But I'll say this: I'm sure they'd show your Rook in that picture their art collection, an honor Vorgoth bestows only on those they like or trust." [source]

User: "does the watch have any rules in regards to courtship/marriage between fellow watchers? An does Emmrich lecture at the Necropolis or at the College of Magi in Cumberland?" / Sylvia: "1) I actually got into that a little here [link or see Post Two]. Short story, it's not forbidden for mages within Circles to court or marry, so no particular rules there I think. 2) That is a very good question. Full disclosure, I am answering on the fly with what I think makes most sense. I can see Emmrich doing a bit of both in his younger days. But as he grew older, more specialized in his field, and had more MW responsibilities, he probably worked more out of the Necropolis. (And prefers it anyhow.) By the time DAV starts, it's probably been years since he was in Cumberland." [source, two, three]

User: "Thank you for your moving portrayal of thanatophobia. While most people have some fear of death, it was amazing to see the thanatophobic panic attacks etc portrayed so accurately." / Sylvia: "Thanks - they're not an unfamiliar phenomenon to me, I wanted Emmrich to try to get across that helplessness and wretched terror. (I suspect more people are affected by them than we commonly talk about.)" [source]

User: "whoever decided “DA liches are immortal protectors and not always evil?” Chef’s kiss. It’s all I’ve ever wanted!" / Sylvia: "Thanks again! It was in Emmrich's first draft. The other writers and editors gave me good feeback on lichdom and the philosophy behind it especially" [source]

User: "I wonder, did you prefer writing for either lich Emmrich or mortal? I would imagine it's a bit different." / Sylvia: "I wouldn't say I had a favorite, but it was fun to try to figure out what approach to take in scenes that had split lich/mortal lines. I didn't want Emmrich to be unrecognizable as a lich, but I did want him to occasionally be a little different, slowly absorbing what he'd become. We see him at the start of this new stage of his existence, so I think even by the end of Veilguard he's still just at the very start of adjusting to, and exploring, what he is now. I liked giving him that wonder!" [source, two]

Sylvia: "The Memorial Gardens were the heart of the Necropolis to me, the level artists and level designer and our audio team worked so much magic there. (And the lighting team! First time I saw it properly lit I think I clapped.)" [source]

User: "Also wanted to know if you wrote Josephine’s letter to Inquisitor if romanced?" / Sylvia: "I did write that letter, thanks! It was a joy to return to Josephine, even in a codex sent to her dearest Inquisitor." [source]

Sylvia on where Emmrich sleeps: "As to his sleeping arrangements, I gave a tantalizing (non) answer here [[link] or see [Post Two]]. (Though I think he'd prefer a proper bed, whatever form it takes. Emmrich's too old to be sleeping on cots like a student anymore.)" [source]

Sylvia: "So glad the team and I got to crack open the ancient doors of the Grand Necopolis, I've been curious about it too ever since reading about it eons ago. (And very glad you're liking MW Rook, I really wanted things to feel different when chatting with Emmrich as a Watcher yourself!)" [source]

User: "I enjoyed Johanna IMMENSELY and she is most definitely my favourite villain of all time now, so thank you for her as well!" / Sylvia: "She was a treat to write. (And Hezenkoss would 100% applaud you on your fine judgement and obvious taste.)" [source]

Sylvia on Emmrich's fear: "I'm not unfamiliar with that fear either, and it means a great deal to hear getting to know Emmrich helped you out even a little. (And happy to hear you dug Manfred!)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm especially glad you liked the battle theme. Our music director instantly got the tone of Emmrich's arc, he and the audio team spun off so many great tracks from that core theme." [source]

User on Emmrich: "He's a brilliant character and everyone involved in his creation should be very proud!" / Sylvia: "There were a lot of people working on him, I was lucky so many people got onboard right away with our professor of necromancy. And I loved writing him chatting with Bellara, the mentor/student relationship was fun to hash out with her writer." [source]

User: "(1/2) Hello Sylvia! Like everyone else, I love Emmrich, but I also wanted to say thank you for your work in DAI. Josie was my first romance in DA and I love her a lot. My question had to do with her codex entry in Veilguard for a romanced Inquisitor: (2/2) Her letter in Veilguard implies she hasn't married yet, 10 years later. Josie is so image-conscious in how she conducts herself, so I was surprised she would put off marriage for that long as the first born noble of her house. Curious what the idea behind it was if you can share." / Sylvia: "Thank you! I'm honored to hear Josepine was your first DA romance. Re: marriage, you're right, that is a big time gap. I basically didn't want to surprise returning players with a marriage that had already happened to their Inquisitor offscreen. I'm sure Josephine has kept busy with world affairs, and so has the Inquisitor, which isn't a bad reason it's taken so long. But I thought it'd be more engaging for players to imagine the proposal, how they'd react, what the wedding would be like, as something good happening to them in the future." [source, two]

User: "I wanted to ask about banter I saw online; why does Taash say Emmrich smells like potash? Isn't that a bad smell, like rotten eggs? He doesn't strike me as a smelly person outside of being around the dead. Maybe Trick would know too" / Trick Weekes: "IIRC, I based it on residual scents that would come from chemicals -- can't remember whether it was what you'd get from working with embalming liquids or something used to style hair. That said, Taash comments on scents non-adaari can't detect, so it's not like he smells bad to normal people." [source] / Sylvia: "Chiming in late, but what Trick said. Taash has an incredible sense of smell, but they're detecting the tiny residuals. (Which is why poor Taash can smell that burial Emmrich helped with, even though he scrubbed down thoroughly afterwards. Gotta keep hygienic!)" [source]

User: "I wish more games had Romances like this, he was just simply perfect. [Emmrich] believably cares for Rook." / Sylvia: "I'm glad that part felt heartfelt, it was one of the cores of his romance for me." [source]

User: "What inspired you to want to go into writing for games? Or just writing in general?" / Sylvia: "I've played games since I was about 5 years old and that's what really did it. I fell in love at once with these cool, weird little worlds you could visit as someone else. As for writing in general, it feels goofy (or ominous) to call it a Calling, but it's just something I've always enjoyed doing. It's also probably what I'm best at, which means I'm unfathomably lucky I ended up at BioWare. I don't think I would've been happy until I was doing game writing somewhere, somehow!" [source, two]

User: "I have two questions about his and Johanna's childhood. 1. How and when did he and her(johanna) meet? 2. What was the story between him and her back then? Sorry if it's too long a question. Thank you! Oh I'm so sorry, how could I forget another important question😭😓 3. How tall do you think he is👀 He's almost as tall as Taash!" / Sylvia: "I have not forgotten the other two questions, I'll get to them later (it's just getting late here) but this one's a little easier. I THINK he's about 6 foot 2 inches without his boots, so about 6 foot 3 with them on. (A character artist would have to confirm or deny if I'm remembering right.)" [source]

Sylvia on her time at BioWare: "So I gt a 5 year award statue that looked like a glass disc, and then we swapped over the to the BioWare Character award statues so I got Wrex as my 10th one. (I think I remember people who'd been around earlier than me with those clocks on their desks!)" [source]

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