#timbre type

[eleccy]

aa5 and aa6 spoilers here!

another reason why aa1, 2, 3 and 4 "feel" different from 5 and 6 - different writer. yamazaki isn't necessarily a bad writer, he did write some banger cases for ace attorney investigations 2 and i think also 1 as well. i'm not sure if aa5 and 6 are a result of too many cooks spoiling the broth, executive meddling or what, but... it does lose something.

shu takumi's writing is hallmarked by its lightheartedness, its focus and dedication to the comedic elements while never neglecting the emotional heart of the characters. it is characterized by simple, domestic events between family and friends. there are no bombs blowing up the courtroom, no dark age of the law (except for, well, rfta), no massive political revolutions. the stakes are relatively low and local, focusing instead on the family drama of the feys, the gramaryes, the angst of edgeworth, and how phoenix gets dragged into the tangle of their lives.

it is interesting and compelling storytelling because a LOT of storytelling time is spent on motive, characters, and how they feel about events. the funny moments endear you to the characters all the more, and the optional dialogue makes them seem more human and relatable. phoenix's snarky inner monologue and huge heart work together to grant him a distinct and unique character voice that makes you want to root for him. aa5 and aa6 try to focus more on grander stakes and simplified plotlines about good and evil, the lawyers v. the phantom who is unapologetically evil, the lawyers v. ga'ran who is fundamentally unsympathetic. it's not really as nuanced as say, morgan, who is definitely evil, but her motivation for being so is more fleshed out based on how jealous she was and her desire to elevate pearly to a higher status and escape being the branch family. the sense of urgency to events, and flat-ness of some of the humorous elements, causes you to connect with the characters less. phoenix is much less connected/engaged with trucy than he was in aa4, for example. his beanix personality is all but gone. apollo is also noticeably less connected with trucy whereas in aa4 they were joined at the hip. this is one of the more egregious examples but there are more, like klavier being reduced to a one-dimensional fanservice robot and a lack of explanation of any aa4 plot threads.

while the writing is not the best, i believe aa5 and aa6 do have some good things on offer. the stories and adventures are engaging, have some decent humor in them, and the pacing isn't bad. but the lack of takumi's input is really, really felt and makes them weaker entries in the franchise. i feel it is harder to get excited about replaying them than it is to get excited about replaying 1-2-3-4.

[panvani]

Elizabeth Fraser has a beautiful voice . I should be allowed to replicate it but can’t (has no formal voice training)

[comradejoanmir]

angel charte’s voice my god I had forgotten

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[pedroscowgirl]

A Younger Revelation

Hugh jackman x female!reader

Part 2

Warnings: smut! Minors, DNI!!

Age gap (reader is their (mid) 20s), p in v, creampie (wrap it up), choking, hugh is posessive (?) , daddy issues (i can't help it) and squirting

lmk if i missed some!

Words: 4.5k

A/N: I saw a few ppl say that hugh (and his son) are into older women and i just had to write something about it cuz i want to be his controversial younger gf i hope you like it!

You and Hugh had been friends for over three years, ever since you starred in a movie together. The on-screen chemistry was profound, and off-screen, it quickly turned into a deep, genuine friendship. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift in your feelings. It wasn't just admiration for his talent or his kind-hearted nature, it was something far more intense. You had always been drawn to older men, a fascination born from perhaps, some unresolved issues with your father. It was a part of yourself you had come to understand, but with Hugh, it became an irresistible pull.

The age difference was glaring. Hugh was closer to your parents' age, even older than your dad. The thought of being attracted to him felt wrong, almost taboo, like a secret you shouldn't entertain. Yet, the more you were around him, the more you craved his presence, his voice, the comforting maturity he exuded. The way he moved, the timbre of his laughter, and the warmth in his eyes, it all made you want him even more. It didn't help that you had come across interviews and internet whispers, and even a hint from his ex-wife, all pointing to his preference for older women. It stung, knowing that you probably weren't his type, but it didn't stop the fantasies from consuming you.

One evening, the two of you sat on the terrace of his apartment, sipping wine under the silver glow of the moon. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but the world felt confined to the small space you shared. It was a beautiful, quiet night, and the air was thick with unspoken words. You had always enjoyed these moments with Hugh, comfortable, intimate, and filled with a sense of ease that belied the complexity of your feelings. But tonight, the tension felt different, more visible. The usual comfort was tinged with a sharp undercurrent of desire.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. "You know," you began, your voice soft and deliberate, "we have something in common." Hugh glanced at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "We're both attracted to older people."

He paused, his glass halfway to his lips, caught off guard. You saw the confusion in his eyes as he processed your words. "You're attracted to older women," you continued, watching as his expression shifted. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. The tension in the air thickened, and you felt a heady rush of adrenaline. "And I'm attracted to older men."

Hugh choked on his wine, coughing slightly as he set his glass down. The look of surprise on his face was priceless, but you pressed on, feeling bolder with every word. "Have you ever tried a younger woman?" you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry, almost teasing tone. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Don't you ever crave it? The energy, the freshness... the excitement?"

He looked at you, a mix of shock and intrigue in his eyes. There was a visible shift in the atmosphere, the air charged with a new kind of tension. Hugh's gaze darkened, his eyes roaming over your face, then down your body, as if seeing you in a new light. He swallowed again, visibly trying to maintain his composure. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice low and rough, "I'm too old for you."

You tilted your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. "But you know what it's like to be into that," you said, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. "Maybe you could try something different, something... younger."

Before you could second-guess yourself, Hugh's hands were on you, pulling you onto his lap with a smooth, assertive motion. The sudden intimacy made your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the firmness of his chest beneath your hands. His grip on your hips was possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to send a thrill through you. The reality of the situation hit you—this was happening.

Hugh looked up at you, his eyes intense and filled with a mix of desire and conflict. "I mean," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, "we can try something, and I'll get back to you on that." His words were laced with a sensual promise, an unspoken agreement that sent a rush of heat through your veins.

You felt the weight of the moment, the gravity of what you were about to do. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. You could feel the slight tremor in his hands, a testament to the struggle between his self-control and the desire simmering beneath the surface.

Leaning in, you whispered against his lips, "Let's see where this goes." The tension was unbearable, the air thick with anticipation. And then, finally, his lips met yours. The kiss was slow and exploratory at first, a tentative test of boundaries. But it quickly deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the sensation of his lips, the taste of wine, and the electric connection that sparked between you.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The doubts, the fears, the societal norms—they all melted into the background. All that mattered was the way he made you feel, the way your body responded to his touch, and the intoxicating promise of what was to come.

As you broke the kiss, a delicious tension lingered in the air, thick with the promise of more. Sitting on Hugh's lap, you felt the heat of his body radiate through his clothes and into your skin. His hands, strong and sure, moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing gently. The intimate touch made your breath hitch, and your eyes locked with his, the burning gaze between you sparking an electric connection.

"I'll admit, you're a good kisser," he whispered, his voice low and dripping with that irresistible Australian accent. The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but bite your lip, savouring the compliment. "You're not so bad yourself," you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He chuckled softly, his eyes briefly dropping to your chest, where the rise and fall of your breath betrayed your growing anticipation.

Hugh's hand slowly slid from your ass up to your shoulder, the touch sending a trail of warmth in its wake. With a deliberate slowness, he hooked a finger under the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it down with a teasing grin. The fabric slipped off your shoulder, revealing more of your skin, and you felt the cool night air against your bare breast, sending a jolt of awareness through you. You weren't wearing a bra, and the sudden exposure made you feel both vulnerable and excited.

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of awe crossing his face as he took in the sight of you. "Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself, before he leaned in closer. His other hand joined in, deftly removing your top entirely. As the fabric fell away, leaving you bare from the waist up, you felt a delicious thrill of exposure, the night air cool against your skin. Hugh's gaze was hot and heavy, his admiration evident as he took in the sight of your nakedness. You could see the desire in his eyes, mirrored by the lust in your own.

Feeling his intensity, you felt a flush spread across your cheeks, your breathing growing shallow. There was something incredibly erotic about the way he looked at you, fully clothed in his short-sleeved shirt that highlighted his toned arms and muscular biceps. The contrast made you feel even more exposed, more vulnerable, and yet, it was thrilling. Before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips capturing your nipple. The sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making you gasp.

Your hands instinctively reached for his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his mouth worked its magic. He alternated between soft licks and gentle bites, each touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you. Your hips began to move on their own, grinding against him as you sought more friction, more connection. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through the fabric of his pants, and the knowledge of his desire only heightened your own.

As his mouth continued its sweet torment on your sensitive skin, your body responded eagerly. Every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sent sparks of pleasure straight to your core. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. The feel of his warm, wet mouth on your nipple was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips.

Hugh's free hand roamed up and down your back, caressing and holding you close as if grounding himself in the reality of this moment. The feeling of his hands on you, the weight of his body beneath you, and the heat of his mouth all combined to create an intoxicating mix of sensations. You felt powerful and utterly desired, lost in the pleasure of the moment and the knowledge that this man, who had seemed untouchable, was now very much within your grasp.

As you continued to grind against him, the friction and heat built up between you, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Hugh's breathing grew ragged, his grip on you tightening as he responded to your movements. His mouth left your nipple, trailing kisses up to your neck, where he nibbled softly, drawing another gasp from you.

You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire. The air was thick with the scent of wine and the heady musk of arousal, and you knew there was no turning back. The night had taken a turn into the forbidden, and you were more than willing to explore this uncharted territory with him.

As Hugh's lips lavished warm kisses on your breast, each touch sending electric jolts through your body, you felt an irresistible urge to feel more of him, to uncover the mystery beneath his shirt. Your fingers moved with a mind of their own, sliding up his torso and curling into the fabric, giving a gentle tug. It was a subtle yet unmistakable sign for him to undress. He paused, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, a playful grin spreading across his face. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt, peeling it off with an effortless grace that left you breathless.

As the shirt fell away, revealing the sculpted lines of his chest and the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, your eyes widened in astonishment. You couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative gasp. "You have an amazing build for your age," you murmured, your voice tinged with genuine admiration and a hint of awe.

Hugh's smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You know what else is great for my age? My stamina," he replied, his tone dripping with confidence and a hint of mischief. The promise in his words sent a delicious shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, the anticipation making your pulse race. "Let's test that out," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper but full of bold intent.

Without a moment's hesitation, Hugh's hands found your waist. With an effortless strength that took your breath away, he lifted you and set you down on the cold surface of the terrace table. The sudden contrast of the cool marble against your warm skin made you jolt, a soft gasp escaping your lips. It was a shock that only heightened the pleasure coursing through you.

His hands worked at the buttons of your pants, sliding them down your legs and casting them aside. You felt exposed, vulnerable, yet undeniably excited. The night air kissed your skin, adding to the thrill of the moment. Hugh's eyes roamed over you with a hunger that made your heart pound. As his fingers trailed down your thighs and found their way to your wetness, a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Aren't you a little embarrassed?" he teased, his voice a low, seductive purr. "To be this wet for a man older than your own father?" His words were provocative, laced with a taboo allure that made your cheeks flush. You knew there was a truth in what he said, but the forbidden nature of it only heightened your desire. Hugh was unlike any man you'd ever known—there was a raw, magnetic allure about him that drew you in, making you forget about the world beyond this terrace.

He was a god in human form, exuding a potent mix of masculinity and confidence. His touch was confident and assured, his fingers exploring you with an intimate knowledge that made your body sing. The cool night air combined with the warmth of his hands created a heady contrast that made you moan softly. Hugh's thumb found your clit, and he began to circle it with a tantalizing slowness, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You're so responsive," he murmured, the huskiness of his voice sending a thrill down your spine. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pushed a finger inside you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, your body arching towards him, craving more of his touch. The intensity of your desire was palpable, a living, breathing thing that consumed you.

"Already?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm not even inside you yet." You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, which only made him chuckle. There was a warmth in his laughter, a sound that wrapped around you and heightened the anticipation building between you. "Go ahead then, go inside me," you dared him, but the words came out more like a plea, your voice breathy with need.

Hugh's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with lust. "My god, you're such a slut for me," he said, his voice thick with desire. The crude declaration sent a jolt of excitement through you, making your heart race. "Fuck yes, Hugh, I am," you confessed, the honesty in your voice making your cheeks burn. It was liberating, admitting just how badly you wanted him, and his smirk told you he relished every word.

"Fine, I'll give you what you want," he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his face. With deliberate slowness, he unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. The sight of him, hard and ready, made you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the primal hunger in your gaze unmistakable.

Then, as if breaking the spell, Hugh looked up, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Oh, I don't have a condom with me," he suddenly said, a hint of concern in his voice. You barely hesitated, the words tumbling out before you could think. "It's okay, I'm on the pill." The moment hung in the air, the intimacy of the situation crystal clear. His eyes darkened further, a predatory gleam shining in them as he absorbed your words.

"If you say so, babygirl," he murmured, his voice low. He positioned himself at your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your hands gripping the edges of the table for support as your back arched involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made your mind go blank.

Hugh groaned, his head tilting back as he savoured the feeling. "Gosh, you feel so delicious around me," he breathed out, his voice laced with raw desire. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Better than anything you've had before?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. It was a question born of curiosity and a bit of pride, wanting to know if he felt the same electric connection that you did. His response was a low, guttural moan, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity.

"Much better," he rasped, his voice dripping with sincerity. His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The rhythm he set was intoxicating, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the table beneath you shaking with the force of his movements, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat building inside you.

Hugh's hand slid up your body, fingers tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers through you. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder of the power he held over you in this moment. The pleasure built to a crescendo, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like you might explode. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the delicious friction and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he could scarcely believe the intensity of the moment. The praise sent a thrill through you, pushing you even closer to the edge. You could feel him pulse inside you, every inch of him fitting perfectly, as if he was made for you.

As the intensity of the moment reached its peak, Hugh's thrusts grew even more purposeful, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You felt a different kind of pressure building within you, a sensation that was new, raw, and overwhelming. It was as if your body was responding to him in ways it never had before, every nerve electrified by his touch.

Sensing the shift, Hugh slowed his pace slightly, maintaining a deep, steady rhythm that drove you wild. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I can feel it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You're so close. Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart."

The deep timbre of his voice and the promise in his words sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you continued to mount, reaching an almost unbearable level. You gasped, clutching the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline, your body shaking with the effort to hold back. But Hugh was relentless, his thrusts hitting just the right spot, coaxing you closer to the edge.

He placed a firm hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down gently. "Just let go, sweetheart," he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. "I want you to let it all out. Don't hold back." His words were like a key, unlocking something deep within you. The sensation became too much to contain, a dam about to burst.

With a strangled cry, you felt the floodgates open. A powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted, a hot rush of release that left you trembling. The sensation was so intense, so utterly consuming, that you could hardly breathe. Your vision blurred, and your mind blanked out everything but the exquisite feeling coursing through you. Hugh's eyes never left yours, a satisfied, almost possessive smile playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice dripping with pride and satisfaction. "Let it all out. You're amazing."

As the intense waves of your orgasm began to subside, Hugh didn't slow down. Instead, he kept the pressure steady, his thrusts deep and precise, as if he was determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from you. Just when you thought you couldn't handle any more, he reached up and wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send another thrill of excitement coursing through your body. The sensation of his strong hand on your neck, combined with the powerful thrusts inside you, was intoxicating.

He leaned in close, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, possessive intensity. "I'm gonna cum in you sweet girl" he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding a dangerous edge to the moment. "And you can never spill it, okay? Or I won't fuck you ever again." There was an undeniable authority in his voice, a challenge that made your heart race even faster.

The combination of his hand around your throat and the raw dominance in his voice sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. You nodded, breathless, barely able to form words. "Okay," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with the pressure on your neck and the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"Good girl," he murmured, a satisfied smirk on his lips. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you breathless. You felt him pulse inside you, his release hot and thick, filling you completely. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your body arching towards him as you came again, the intensity almost too much to bear.

Hugh groaned, the sound deep and primal, as he found his release. His hand around your throat loosened, his fingers caressing your skin in a tender contrast to the roughness of his thrusts. The mixture of gentle and rough was intoxicating, leaving you utterly spent and completely satisfied.

"No young man has ever made me feel this way," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with awe. The admission felt both liberating and surprising, as if you'd just discovered a new facet of yourself.

Hugh's smile widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of pride and desire. "That's because no young man knows how to treat a woman like you," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking your cheek. "You've got so much passion inside you, and I'm just the man to bring it out."

You looked up at him, a playful smile curling your lips. "So, have I changed your mind? Are you not into older women anymore?" you teased, your voice light and flirtatious. Hugh paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. The question seemed to catch him off guard, but his response was swift and sincere.

"Babygirl," he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I can only think about your pussy right now." His blunt honesty made your heart flutter, a delicious thrill coursing through you at his words. It was as if nothing else existed for him in that moment but you, and the intensity of his focus made you feel desired in a way you hadn't experienced before.

Still, amidst the raw passion, there was a tenderness in his gaze that reassured you. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his large hands. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern. It was a simple question, but it spoke volumes about the kind of man he was, capable of both dominance and deep care. You nodded, feeling a warm glow spread through your chest.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. It was a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic passion from moments before, and it left you breathless in an entirely different way. The kiss was tender, lingering, as if he was savouring the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were warm, a soft smile on his lips.

With gentle hands, Hugh reached down to pull your panties back on, his touch careful and deliberate. He made sure nothing spilled out, his fingers grazing your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through you. As he adjusted the fabric, he leaned down and pressed a light, teasing kiss over your clit through the thin material. The unexpected gesture made you gasp, your body jolting with a mix of surprise and lingering desire.

Your legs felt weak, trembling slightly from the intensity of everything that had just transpired. Hugh chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. "Next time, we'll just do it in bed," he said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You couldn't help but laugh, the tension breaking into a shared moment of light-heartedness. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the playful banter, felt like a perfect culmination of the intense connection you shared.

Together, you went back inside while Hugh was holding you bridal style. The cool air giving way to the warmth of the house. The bathroom was steamy as Hugh turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the space. Without missing a beat, he scooped you back up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest. His strength was evident as he carried you with ease, his touch reassuring and protective. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingertips.

As the warm water cascaded over you both, it felt like a cleansing, a washing away of everything but the present moment. Hugh held you close, his hands roaming your wet skin with a mix of possessiveness and reverence. The water created a curtain around you, isolating you in a cocoon of heat and steam.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed you against the shower wall, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, the water pouring over you both adding to the intensity. It was a hot make out session, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate fervour that left you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as the kiss deepened, turning into something more primal and urgent.

The way he kissed you, hungry, demanding, yet tender—was intoxicating. You felt enveloped by him, his presence overpowering in the best possible way. Every touch, every kiss, was a promise of more to come, a hint at the depths of his desire for you. The water flowed over you, mingling with your sweat, as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment.

As you finally pulled away, gasping for breath, you rested your forehead against his, both of you panting from the intensity of the kiss. Hugh's eyes were dark with desire, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You knew that this was just the beginning, that the connection you shared was far from over. The shower may have been meant to cleanse, but instead, it became another chapter in your shared passion, a testament to the chemistry that crackled between you like an unquenchable fire.

dm me if u want to be in my taglist!!

Taglist:

@melaninjoys @ermlady @haytchee @elloredef

[charliemwrites]

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

Content: Voyeurism

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

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Masterlist

[nymphoniah]

shotgunning a cigar while grinding in origins!logan’s lap 😵‍💫😵‍💫

steal away | logan howlett

pairing: origins!logan x afab!reader

i literally can’t stop thinking about smoking with logan, whether it be the two of you stepping out for a quick smoke break, to him busting out a cigar after the two of you just had sex. like ohmygaaaawd. i need to be put down. thank you anon for giving me another scenario to fantasize about >_<

content/tags: nsfw, minors dni, 18+ only, suggestive content, dry humping, grinding, pet names (princess, doll, etc.), teasing, very very subtle dom/sub vibes.

you could see him all riled up when he comes back home from work, his muscles aching and sore—begging for your attention.

he flops onto the couch, his legs splayed, both arms resting across the backrest of the couch. and tilts his head back, spotting an upside-down version of you typing away furiously on your laptop keyboard.

a little whistle escapes out from the corner of his lips, grabbing your attention. he flashes you a coquettish smile, his hands gesturing to come join him on the couch.

you follow his command with no hesitation, wanting any excuse to get away from work—sending chains of corporate emails could only get so interesting.

pulling his legs together, he pats his quads. “c’mere princess, need to get a good look at you,” he mumbles, reaching over to the coffee table to grab a cigar.

you help logan, passing him the straight cutter placed alongside the ashtray, playfully pulling the rusted lighter he kept in the chest pocket of his flannel.

you flicked the lighter, shielding the flame from the cool breeze that lingered from an opened window in the kitchen.

his scent floods your senses as you lean into him with the lighter in your hands, his lips wrapped tightly around the cigar—the strong musk of wood and amber. the unique smell of him when he comes back from the lumberyard.

taking your hand in his, he guides the lighter to the end of the cigar. logan’s hazel eyes bore into yours as the smoke floods between the two of you, reluctantly letting your hand go.

“can’t get enough of you, darlin,” he grumbles out the corner of his mouth, followed with a puff of smoke.

you place the lighter and cutter over to the side, which eventually would be lost between the cushions later tonight.

his hands move their way to the small of your back, the calloused pads of his fingertips teasing their way underneath your nightgown.

a small gasp slips out from your lips as his hands continue to work at your skin—it felt as if you were on fire, his cold hands roaming further down, playfully tugging at the waistband of your panties.

your hands steady themselves on his brooding shoulders, giving him a little squeeze of affection. “it tickles, logan,” you chuckle, resting your head against his chest, eyelashes fluttering against him.

you can feel him exhale in response, his hands making their way to your ass, grasping at the plump flesh. “sorry, doll. just can’t keep my hands off you.”

you whine against him, and before you know it, your hips start to move on their own; the steady rhythm of your grinding matched the way his chest faltered up and down, feeling his length grow beneath you.

he gives you a slight tap on the ass, signaling for you to look back at him. “eyes up, princess,” he lulls into the shell of your ear before you pull back to meet his gaze.

“wanna taste?” logan asks, pulling the cigar away from his lips. the timbre of his voice making the offer even more tempting.

you nod your head eagerly, moving your hand from his shoulder to reach for the cigar, but he teasingly pulls it further away from you grasp, a tsk escaping from the corner of his mouth.

“use your words, princess.”

“can i have a taste, lo?” you respond rather hastily, your eyes flicking back and forth from the cigar to his lips, curled forming an impish smirk.

“c’mon. you’re missing something,” he taunts, raising his eyebrow.

“please?” you sweetly add, rutting your hips against him as an added oomph to your little request.

“‘atta girl,” he groans, feeling his cock twitch at the friction, nails digging into the soft flesh of your ass to ground himself.

with his other hand, he pulls the cigar back between his lips, deeply inhaling, letting the smoke linger in his mouth for a bit, and rests the cigar against the ashtray.

his face now a mere inch away from yours, he firmly grips your chin, and you slack your jaw open, your plump lips parted.

logan then steadily shotguns the smoke into your mouth—the heady aroma of ash and tinder flooding your senses, followed by the rush of the nicotine entering your bloodstream.

the buzz made everything feel more pleasurable, intense. the way his nose gently nudged against yours sent a shiver down your spine, the way you felt his dick grow even bigger made you press your pelvis into his further.

your head finds its way back nestled deep into his chest, and your hips seem to have a mind of its own as you continue to grind sensually against him.

“such a needy girl, huh?” logan teases, his hands guiding your hips, allowing you to rut faster against him.

“missed you so bad, lo. waited for you all day to come back home,” you whine, pressing kisses against him, the coarse hair of his chest riling you further.

“well, you’re in for a treat tonight, princess…”

[michelleleewise]

Can I have a story where reader has a huge crush on loki (reader won't admit they're inlove tho) and wants to be his in every aspect? She doesn't want to confess because she knows she'll get rejected and knows she's not his type. Though reader maybe sneaky, they forget that loki can sometimes read minds. They play this cat-and-mouse game it may or may not lead to smut 👀 I kind of had this idea by listening to "I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Thank you so much <3

Hiiiii!!! I'm sorry this took so long to get to!!!! But thank you so much for sending it to me!! I hope you like it!!! 💚💚💚

====================================

Thinking of You

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: swearing, mild yelling, mind reading, self esteem issues, NSFW, masturbation, mildly rough sex (nothing graphic), if I missed anything let me know!! 💚

Summary: Everytime you see Loki your thoughts run wild....unbeknownst to you, he can hear them too...

A/n- sorry this took so long!!! It's probably terrible, I'm a bit rusty......sorry!!!!! 💚💚

"No the other way." You urged into the coms, swiping between screens on the computer screen like a maniac trying to guide the team to where they needed to be. "Y/n, where is it!?" Tony yelled into his earpiece making you wince "there is no need to yell Stark" You heard Loki's smooth voice sound in your ear making you sigh "that's easy for you to say Rudolph, you aren't surrounded by agents." Tony said when you heard an explosion echo into you ear. "Do stop complaining Stark." Loki said when you heard a grunt sound through Loki's coms "you are becoming rather insufferable." He continued making you giggle "I swear laufeyson, when we get back..." Tony started when you heard Thor's booming voice join the conversation "would you two please desist with this nonsense!" Thor yelled making you jump.

"Yes, please silence yourself stark....now darling which way do we go?" Loki asked into his earpiece, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine "i...I...let me see" you said searching the map again "take your...umph...time darling, no rush." Loki purred into your ear as you heard a thud on his end. "Ok, everyone needs to get to Loki's location, that's where the serum is." You said pulling up everyone's position, "aaah, Right again I see." Loki laughed into his earpiece "shut up Loki." Thor bellowed into his coms "come now, jealousy does not suit you brother." Loki mocked making you laugh "something funny agent?" You heard Tony snark into the coms "no sir, sorry." You said looking down at your hands.

You listened as the team completed the mission, bickering the entire time. If you were honest you weren't sure how they didn't kill eachother everytime they went on a mission. "Alright, back to the jet everyone." Tony said. "I thank you for your assistance lady y/n." Loki purred into the earpiece making your cheeks heat up "y...you welcome Loki "Alright romeo let's go...shutting down coms, see you back at the tower." Tony said as the line went silent. You took a deep breath pulling your earpiece out when Nat walked over leaning on your desk "quite the sweet talker isn't he?" She asked making you giggle "well they do call him silvertongue." You said trying to not look at her "yeah, makes you wonder what else he can do with his tongue." She said as you stood up "Natasha!" You whisper yelled making her laugh "oh come on, we all know how you feel about him." She said as you grabbed a stack of files quickly turning "I don't know what your talking about." You said making your way to the filing cabinets.

"Y/n, why don't you just talk to him?" She asked following you "I do talk to him." You snapped hoping she would let it go "you know what I mean y/n." She scolded crossing her arms "because..." you sighed setting the files down "because there will never be a universe where he feels the same." You said opening the filing cabinet "you don't know that, the way he talks to you..." She started when you slammed the drawer shut "I'm not stupid nat, he's just being polite...letting his princely charm ooze out of him. I've seen I him do it at parties." You said closing your eyes "I'm not special, he doesn't like me and he never will...why would he?" You asked walking back towards your desk "um, your funny, smart, witty.." nat said continuing to follow you "plain, ordinary...boring." you huffed grabbing your bag "y/n seriously..." you cut her off lifting your hand "no, he doesn't know...he'll never know." You said walking towards the door, stopping in the doorway "I...I don't think I could handle that rejection." You said before walking out heading towards your apartment

You spent the next few days chained to your desk, stacks of mission reports to go through and file from the last mission. Looking up rubbing your eyes seeing you had worked past your lunch "I need a break." You sighed closing the file you were working on as you stood up. Grabbing your coffee mug you made your way to the break room and the espresso machine Tony had recently installed. After choosing what you wanted you leaned your head against the cabinet waiting for the machine to do its thing, praying it would hurry when what nat said the other day ran through your mind does everyone really know....am I that obvious? You thought when the loud beep pulled you from your thoughts. "Thank god." You breathed bringing the cup to your lips taking a small sip you closed your eyes feeling the caffeine touch your soul "mmmhhh." You moaned with a sigh.

"Now that is a sound I could get used to." A deep voice behind you said, your eyes shooting open as you turned seeing Loki leaning against the doorway his arms crossed, the buttons of his white shirt straining against his chest "l...loki w...what are you doing here?" You asked setting the cup down "oh, some nonsense of starks." He said pushing off the doorframe sliding his hands in the pockets of his tight black jeans "something about not completing my reports." He shrugged taking a step into the room "o..oh, um he didn't say anything to me." You said fidgeting with your fingers "well let's be honest, when have you known stark to be organized?" He asked making you laugh "so, naturally I came to you to see if there were any...discrepancies." He purred coming to stand in front of you, his cologne wafting between you making you sigh god he smells good you thought hearing loki laugh "do you like the cologne? I just purchased it." He asked smiling "oh...yeah! Your...rrr I mean it...it's good." You stuttered watching his smile widen

"well darling, if you wouldn't mind may I....come with you?" He asked, the baritone in his voice stirring something inside you I'll be coming later you thought remembering all the nights you touched yourself at the thought of his large hands roaming your body, his deep voice whispering how much he wanted you in your ear. You bit your lip seeing him raise an eyebrow at you "er...um sorry...what were you saying?" You asked wringing yours hands "Darling, i was asking if I could come and look at the reports." He said smiling again "oh! Right...yes absolutely!" You said shaking the impure thoughts from your head as you stepped around him and headed back towards your desk. You sat down, digging through the stack of files until you saw "Laufeyson" pulling it out "ah, here it is." You said freezing feeling a hand on your back "you forgot your coffee my dear." He purred setting your cup on the desk "oh, thank you Loki." You said feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Now, let's see shall we?" He asked, taking the file from you He sat it down on the desk in front of you, his one hand sliding to the back of your chair as he leaned his large lithe frame over you, feeling the heat from his chest against your arm. "Hmm..." he hummed flipping through the file page by page, his scent ingulphing you as your mind raced at his proximity to you, the way his forearms flexed with each page turn, your eyes tracing the veins running down to his... "I do not see any issue, do you darling?" He asked when you tilted your head up towards him, your nose almost touching his as he leaned closer "i...um...." your mind going blank as your eyes met his, you couldn't help stare into them. They always reminded you of a forest after a storm, the deep green and blue swirling in a maelstrom as powerful as the man they belonged to but at this closeness you could see specs of gold shining in them.

"Loki..." you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his lips they look so soft you thought when you felt him lean closer "y/n." He breathed when you looked back into his eyes "i..." you trailed off, feeling like your heart was going to beat out of your chest "tell me darling." He whispered as he hovered over you his eyes never leaving yours "i..." you tried again, your mouth going dry feeling his finger tuck your hair behind your ear "hmm?" He hummed expectantly the tip of his nose touching yours "agent y/l/n." You heard from across the room making Loki shoot straight up as you jumped "a..agent hill, morning...er afternoon." You stuttered watching Maria walk in "and what do we owe the pleasure Loki?" She asked nearing your desk "oh, I was only ensuring my report was accurate, I would hate to make miss y/n's job harder then it is." He explained, freezing feeling his finger slowly trail up your arm. "Well im sure the agent has it under control Mr. Laufeyson." Hill said coming to stand on your other side "yes, she does. So I will take my leave...perhaps I will see you later agent." He purred as you looked up at him seeing him smile "o...ok, bye Loki." You smiled back as he bowed slightly before walking to the door.

You sat staring at the file Loki had been going through when you felt Hill nudge you "oh my God, what was that about?" She asked sitting on the edge of your desk, her stern demeanor vanishing "i...I don't know." You said looking up at her "well he looked like he was about to eat you." She laughed making you laugh with her "no, he just wanted to go through his report." You said setting it back on the pile "riiight, even though he's never had an issue with them before." She said crossing her arms. "I...well maybe he...umm." you stuttered trying to think of a reason "dude, just accept the man wanted to eat you like a cream filled donut." She said making you laugh "what!? No he doesn't!" You urged hearing her laugh "well apparently you didn't see the look on his face." She said hopping off the desk. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe he likes you too." She shrugged walking to the door "no he doesn't, he's just being nice." You said grabbing your cup "uh huh...whatever you say." She winked as she walked out.

You sat back sipping your coffee trying to process what had happened when you heard your name called, looking up seeing Tony "Hey kid, I just wanted to check and see how those are coming along." He said pointing at the reports "fury is down my throat about them." He laughed as you looked up at him "oh yeah, they're almost done." You said setting your cup down "oh, and Loki came by like you asked." You said grabbing his file "i didn't ask him to come by." Tony said crossing his arms "yes you did." You said looking back at him "no....I didn't." He argued making you sigh "you sent him down saying there was an issue with his reports." You argued back tossing the file down "I hate to break it to you, but I didn't send him down here, I haven't even talked to him in days." He said making your eyebrows furrow "just have them done by tonight ok?" Tony asked as you nodded looking back down at your desk. "If Tony didn't tell him to come down here.." your thoughts trailed off as you looked up at the clock seeing it was already almost three "shit.." you sighed pushing your thoughts aside grabbing the next file getting back to work.

It had been a couple weeks since your last interaction with Loki, but you couldn't get it out of your mind, it was beginning to drive you crazy. You were sat at your desk tapping your pen on a stack of files remembering the way his eyes stared into yours, how close he was to you, frowning remembering the lie he told you "Hey y/n, I need you to have Thor fix this." Maria said setting a piece of paper on your desk, seeing it was one of his mission reports "oh? What's wrong with it?" You asked picking it up "look at the description." She laughed as you looked down at that section seeing a simple "we won" written "I've told him that's not adequate but..." She sighed shaking her head. "Could you please have him actually write what happened?" She asked as you nodded "yeah, I just gotta find him." You said standing up "I believe he's in the training room, good luck." She smiled walking out. "Of course he is." You sighed walking towards the elevators.

You took a deep breath grabbing the handle of the door you pulled it open seeing Thor sparring with Steve as you walked in "Thor!" You yelled getting his attention seeing him smile at you as he walked over "Lady y/n, what can I do for you?" He asked setting his hammer down "you didn't fill out your report from the last mission." You said holding the paper out to him "you have to write a full description." You said holding your pen out to him "I do not see why, we won that's all that is important." He said grabbing the pen "just write something to make Hill happy." You laughed crossing your arms "very well, give me one moment." He said walking to the benches sitting down.

You looked out into the training room seeing Natasha on the treadmill, Steve had gone over to the punching bags, and then your eyes landed on Loki, dressed in black gym shorts that gave you full view of his muscular thighs, accompanied by a black tank top that was so tight you were surprised he could move, biting you lip watching as he sparred with Bucky. Your eyes traveled up seeing his long hair pulled back into a low bun, sweat making a few loose strands stick to his forehead as he pivoted and swayed, avoiding all of Bucky's attacks with the grace of a dancer. "Fuck...." you breathed, crossing your foot over the other clenching your thighs together trying to hide your arousal as bucky lunged at Loki when his large hand grabbed his throat, planting his foot behind bucky he threw him to the mat on his back kneeling next to him with his hand still on his throat god he could choke me anytime you thought biting your lip when Loki's eyes suddenly met yours making you jump.

His eyes didn't leave yours as he stood up, extending his hand to bucky pulling him up you watched his bicep flex, the veins in his arms bulging as Bucky got to his feet goood...I want trace them with my tongue you thought feeling your face heat up, arousal pooling in your stomach as your eyes met his again seeing a darkness in them you never had before "Lady y/n." Thor suddenly said next to you making you jump "apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." He said as you clutched your chest "no, it's ok." You said taking a deep breath "I have finished your report." He smiled holding out the paper "oh, thank you thor." You said quickly grabbing the paper "are you ok? You look a little flushed." He said as you ripped your pen out of his hand "yes! I'm fine." You said glancing over seeing Loki still watching you "i...I gotta go, see you later." You said quickly turning and walking towards the door, one last look back seeing Loki's eyes still on you making you shiver as you walked out.

You made your way back downstairs gripping the pen and paper in your hand, walking into Maria's office you slapped it on her desk "there." You said turning around "you ok? You seem...off." She said making you turn back to her "yeah! Totally fine!" You rushed out "I'm gonna call it a day, I'll see you tomorrow." You smiled before walking to your desk shutting everything off heading back upstairs to your apartment. Walking in you closed the door behind you leaning your back against it "Dammit Loki." You sighed closing your eyes, the friction of your clothing against your core making you moan "bath...a bath sounds good." You said rushing into the bathroom you turned the water on adding the bubbles as you pulled your clothes off before easing into the hot water.

You leaned back, closing your eyes you pictured the broody God, his eyes....his smile...."loki.." you whispered sliding your hand down your stomach, you gripped the side of the tub as your fingers slowly slid over your folds, biting your lip as you slowly moved your fingers down to your entrance dipping them inside you rocked your hand back and forth, imagining they were Loki's. "God...Loki..." you moaned moving your fingers faster, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach "mmm....haaaarder...." you breathed picturing Loki's eyes staring into yours, his hand wrapped around your throat "fuuuck..Loki." you cried out feeling orgasm wash over you, squeezing your thighs together you slowly slid your fingers out.

You took a deep breath still feeling unsatisfied "ugh, that usually works." You sighed sitting up rubbing your temples. You groaned, grabbing your body wash you cleaned yourself up before getting out of the tub, the ache still very present in your core. Looking up seeing it was almost ten "Maybe I'll make some tea." You said to yourself slipping on your sleep shorts and a bright green tank top pulling your hair back before opening your door and making your way down to the kitchen. You slowly walked in releasing a breath seeing it empty and dark "good, everyone must be busy." You said walking in grabbing the kettle filling it before setting it on the stove.

You opened the cabinet seeing all the coffee mugs on the top shelf "freaking giants" you mumbled lifting you knee onto the counter pulling yourself up freezing hearing someone clear their throat. You slowly leaned back, peeking out from behind the cabinet door seeing Loki standing next to the counter by the door, wearing the white shirt that would cause your death, his hand in his pocket as he tilted his head "h...hey Loki." You said smiling nervously "evening y/n, may I ask what it is your doing up there?" He asked when the kettle screamed. You cleared your throat watching him move it and turn the burner off. "Well, you see....I couldn't sleep so...tea." you laughed as he looked back over to you "and all the mugs are up there." You said pointing to the top of the cabinet "ah, I see." You heard him say as you reached up grabbing a cup.

You went to put your foot down on the floor when your other knee slipped causing you to drop the cup as you fell back off the counter when an arm wrapped around your middle pulling you backwards, you back hitting solid muscle looking to the side seeing Loki smiling down at you. "Your cup my lady." He said lifting his other hand you looked at it seeing your cup dangling from his finger "t..thank you." You stuttered lifting the cup from his finger. "You really must be more careful my dear." He purred when you felt his thumb sliding up and down by your rib, slowly moving up towards your breast "i...I should finish the tea." You said pulling away from him walking to the stove. Stop it y/n, he's just being nice you thought shaking your head when the cabinet door slammed making you jump, turning to see Loki's hand on it.

"Loki...are you ok?" You asked as he turned around "no y/n, I'm afraid I'm not." He said taking a step towards you. "I...I can get bruce...or thor?" You asked stepping back as he came closer "I'm afraid neither of them can assist me." He growled continuing his advance as you walked backwards through the kitchen, loki right on top of you "um..well I could.." you trailed as your back hit the table "these games have exhausted me y/n." He said coming to stand in front of you his chest inches from yours "I don't know..." you started when he leaned forward planting his palms on either side of you caging you in "do not lie to me y/n," He said sternly making you shiver "l..loki i..." you sighed looking down fidgeting with your hands when he leaned forward freezing feeling his breath on your ear.

"I love your eyes as well." He whispered making your head jerk back looking at him "i...you..." you stuttered as the realization hit you "yes dear, there are times i can read your thoughts." He said as your eyes widened "h...how much is sometimes?" You panicked seeing him smile "well, it comes and goes, but depending on how...hard your thinking they make it through." He purred as you looked down, embarrassment flooding through you "y/n look at me...please." He whispered as you took a deep breath "Loki i..." you were cut off by his lips gently touching yours before he quickly pulled back checking gauging your reaction as you stood speechless. You must have taken too long to respond as panic flashed in his eyes as he slowly stood up "i...I have over stepped, I apologize." He said taking a step back, the loss of contact kicking your brain into gear.

"Wait." You rushed out fisting the front of his shirt you pulled him back to you, rising up on your toes your lips crashed into his, your other hand sliding across his side to his back pulling him closer moaning feeling his tongue slide along your bottom lip, his hand cupping the back of your head as you parted your lips hearing him groan as his tongue slipped inside tangling with yours. God his lips are soft you thought when you felt his hands slide across your sides to your back moving down his palms cupping your ass squeezing making you moan into his mouth as he lifted you up setting you on the table. Stepping between your parted legs he pulled back slightly as he kissed along your jaw, tilting your head back feeling his lips wrap around your earlobe "l..loki..." you moaned when his hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you towards him groaning feeling his erection press against your thigh.

God, fuck me..please fuck me you thought screwing your eyes shut feeling his teeth nip at your pulse point "say it." He growled, the husky tone of his voice making you shiver "w..what." you breathed when he pulled back looking into you eyes, his hand gently gripping your chin "I want to hear you say it." He growled his jaw clenching as he watched you with an intensity that sent electricity up your spine "i..I want..." you stuttered seeing his eyes darken "yes..." he encouraged rubbing his thumb across your lips "i...want you Loki." You whispered seeing him smile as he leaned down to your ear "do you want me to fuck you y/n?" He breathed as you gripped the table screwing your eyes shut "y..yes...please." You said, opening your eyes meeting his "norns..." he whispered as he lunged forward his lips crashing onto to yours, his hand going to the back of your head as he guided you down onto your back.

Arching your back feeling the cold wood through your thin tank top "I need to feel you...now." loki growled against your lips as his other hand slid up your side to the bottom of your shirt "as much as I love seeing you in my colors..." he trailed off standing up his hand slipped out from under your head joining the other, hearing a loud rip you gasped feeling the cold air hit your bare skin, looking down seeing your shirt ripped in half "gorgeous." Loki purred placing a large hand on your stomach, his finger tips ghosting over your skin as he slowly slid it up to the valley of your breasts gently pushing you back down. "One more thing." He smiled when you heard another rip, feeling your shorts and panties pulled from you. "Norns....you truly are magnificent." He purred as he wrapped his hands around your thighs sliding you to the edge.

"Loki...." you moaned feeling his clothed cock press against your core "I know my dear, be patient for me." He groaned lifting his hand a green light swept down across him, shivering feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance "are you ready love?" He asked making you look up, his smile melting your insides as his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs "y..yes....please loki." You whined laying back stretching your arms above your head "mmm....we'll have to look into that." He growled as he leaned over, his large body hovering over yours as he pushed his hips forward, stretching you slowly as he entered you. "Gods your...mmm tight." He groaned, bucking his hips forward making you gasp as he bottomed out.

"Holy fuck." You cried out digging your nails into the table as he leaned further over you, his eyes meeting yours "are you ok dear? Do you wish to stop?" He asked, concern lacing his tone as you stared up at him "God no!" You rushed out wrapping your legs around his middle, a deep rumble coming from his chest as he laughed "loki?" You asked wrapping your fingers around the end of the table "move...now" you demanded shifting your hips "as you wish." He growled as he planted one large hand next to your head, the other gripping your hip as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip in before slowly pushing back in.

"H...holy...." you moaned as he set a steady pace, burying his cock further inside you then anyone ever had God, he's ruined me you thought when he suddenly snapped his hips hard against yours jolting you up the table "that was the idea my dear." He growled "my cock will be the only one that can satisfy you." He said gritting his teeth as he slammed into you "Loki!!" You cried out gripping the edge of the table "the only pleasure you will find is impaled upon me as I bury myself in your perfect cunt." He said, his fingers digging into your flesh as he set a brutal pace, the table shifting under his thrusts as he consumed you. "F...fuck! Loki...ahhh....i.....im...." you cried out as his tip hit that soft spot deep inside you "are you going to come my dear?" He groaned, sliding his hand under your shoulder pulling you to him as his pelvis hit yours "y...yes....God Loki!" You yelled feeling the familiar tingle in your abdomen.

"Come y/n...come on my cock." Loki gritted as he thrust hard into you as your orgasm slammed into you screaming his name as he continued his unforgiving pace "w..whose cunt is this?" He growled digging his fingers nails into your shoulder "y..yours..." you moaned feeling another building "who....n...norns...who do you belong to?" He moaned screwing his eyes shut as you squeezed your legs around him "y...you Loki...only you!" You cried out as he bottomed out, holding himself there you felt him release deep inside you triggering a second orgasm as he slumped on top of you laying his forehead on your shoulder, his warm breath fanning your skin as you let go of the table, a hand going to the back of his head running your fingers through his hair, freezing feeling him stiffen.

Why did i do that...I shouldn't have done that you thought as you pulled your hand away "y/n?" You heard Loki ask but your thoughts drowned him out i....I should go...this was probably a one time thing... "y/n look at me." Loki's voice rang out again as you tried to slip out from under him what am I going to cover up with....I need to get back to my.... "y/n!" Loki yelled making jump, your eyes shooting to his "apologies, I did not mean to yell but you were lost." He said as he grabbed your hand helping you sit up "now, let me make one thing perfectly clear." He said raising his hand again, the same green light traveling across your skin as your clothes reappeared "you...are mine now." He said leaning forward "you are not a one night stand, you never were...you deserve much more then that." He said as you looked down fidgeting with your fingers "you deserved to be treated as a queen, a goddess...my goddess." He said brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face

"so y/n, will you alow me to take you out?" He asked as you looked up at him "m...me? You want to date me?" You asked laughing but seeing Loki looking more serious then you ever had "I um...I'd like that Loki, very much." You said seeing him smile "how about we go to my chambers and you put on one of your midgaridian films and we can talk more hm?" He asked making you smile "that sounds nice." You said sliding off the table as he held his hand out, placing your hand in his He linked your fingers together as he guided you down the hallway to his room "loki, does that mean your my...boyfriend?" You asked as he smiled down at you opening his door "you may call me whatever you wish, as long as you are mine." He said as he waved you ahead of him "I'll always be yours....my king." You said walking through the doorway "mmm....now that will get you more then you bargained for." He growled following you "oh, I'm counting on it." You smiled closing the door behind him.

@mjsthrillernp @eleniblue @nina25sblog @lokiandbuckysdoll @muddyorbs @crimson25 @kkdvkyya @kaylalikescatsandstuff @chokeanddagger @chantsdemarins @ladymischief11 @jaidenhawke @high-functioning-lokipath @lokidbadguy @buttercupcookies-blog @crzyplantladyvibes @princessdragon23 @lelliefant @stupidthoughtsinwriting @sinsandguilt @emarich7 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kikster606 @edelweissbarnes @kateslife15 @holdmytesseract @pennyl4n3 @huntressandlioness1 @libbybeaz @lokidokieokie @irishhappiness @daggers-and-mischief @dukes2581 @peachyjinx @ladyofthestayingpower @mysticalmayhem1930 @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @janineb86 @anukulee @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @aniar4wniak @jotunqueenneith @yelkmelk @lokisgirl96 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @genderfluid-anime-goth

[silassinclair]

Yandere Boxer x Reader 2

Masterlist Here!! // Previous Part Here!

CW // Nonconsentual touching

A couple days have passed since Vladimir has been on life support. And today he finally woke up.

“Doc…?”

You turn your head inhumanly fast when you hear the quiet mutter of the fighter. Rushing over to the bed you get some water and some medicine.

“You’re finally awake Vladimir. Everyone was worried about you.” You say and lean his bed up so he can drink some water.

Vladimir’s expression remains solemn. He’s thinking hard about something and it worries you. Vladimir has always been your least favorite guy here at the gym. He’d sexually harass you and catcall you everyday but he’s still your patient.

“Do you remember what happened? Who did this to you?” You ask him carefully.

The man’s knuckles whiten as his fist clenches and he utters gutturally, “I can’t remember.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s alright. What matters is your recovery.”

For the rest of the day you stay by Vladimir’s side until he was ready to walk on his own. He’s a tough guy so he was able to get up and leave all by himself. It’s late at night now though so it’s time for you to wrap it up. You pack your belongings in your backpack but pause when you hear your clinic door open. Facing the door you see Viktor, your ex childhood best friend.

“Clinic is closed for the day. Everyone left already so why are you still here?” You ask him.

Viktor just stands there quietly. He looks around the room and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Just wanted to check on you.” He says in his deep timbre.

You look at him skeptically. “Do you need something?”

He faces you with a small crooked frown. “No…”

Viktor has always been the quiet type. Even when he was a little boy. Some habits never change you supposed.

“Viktor I know you’re here for a reason. You can tell me.” You say and offer him a rare smile.

The tall man gives a guttural hum before saying, “It’s unsafe for you to go home at this hour alone.”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. He’s worried about you. But why now? Here he is wanting to keep you safe yet he brushed you aside in high school like you were a leech. What changed his tune?

“Viktor I’m perfectly capable of going home myself.”

He grunts disapprovingly and takes large steps closer to you making you freeze. His body is so close to yours now. Only mere inches separating the two of you. To look him in the eye you have to crane your neck up just because of his sheer height.

Ever so slowly he puts a large, roughened hand on your shoulder. His expression is sincere as he says, “Kroshechnyy (Tiny) please. I can’t explain why I did what I did in high school right now. The story is far too long and complicated. And I do apologize for leaving you all alone and casting you away. I don’t ask for forgiveness, all I ask for is for you to let me make up for not being there for you.”

You take in his words wholeheartedly and nod in understanding. Viktor is mature, everything he does is with reason and comes with explanation. And there is no hatred in your heart towards him. You could never hate Viktor even if you tried. So you nod.

“Okay. I expect an explanation one day because I’m worried about you. It… really scared me when you suddenly cut all contact. I don’t forgive you but I won’t let our past affect our jobs. So let’s just take things slow and build our way to becoming friends again?”

Your answer made the stoic man’s heart soar above the atmosphere. All he can think of is that he has a chance again. He couldn’t help but pull you into an embrace. An embrace he’s been thinking of for years. Viktor’s missed your touch, how your body melted against his as you cried into his chest when you ran away from home. Or how you’d cuddle against him while watching an R rated movie when you two weren’t supposed to. He’s missed you so so badly.

You on the other hand felt like you just got swallowed whole by a whale. Sometimes you forget how puberty hit Viktor like a freight train. Unlike when you two were kids his hugs now felt like you were being eaten. Your arms can barely wrap around his torso for goodness sakes! But this is getting really awkward for you so you pat his back with your hand.

“Uhm can you let go of me now? We’re not quite friends yet Viktor. I'm still pretty mad at you.”

The giant lets go of your smaller frame with the face of an injured puppy. Never would you have thought that an ass kicking brutality machine like Viktor would pout.

“I’m sorry. I just missed you a lot.” He mutters with his head down in shame.

"I understand that but you have to understand how I feel too Viktor. You really hurt me back then. So let's just keep our hands to ourselves yeah?"

He nods reluctantly and follows you out of the clinic and into the main gym. All the lights are off, only the ominous glow of moonlight through the windows provides light. Once you two arrive outside you both make your way down the sidewalk together. You didn't have a car or bike so you walked everywhere. It's unsafe but you can't afford safety.

"It's supposed to snow today."

"Huh?"

You look up at Viktor in question. "What did you say again?"

But at that very moment you felt the icy touch of a snowflake land on your nose. And seconds later millions of more flakes fell from the black night sky. Each flake was fat and heavy; not just little flurries of ice. No, this was real snow. And it was damn cold too.

"Oh no I should have taken the bus. Fuck." You curse to yourself. "I'm sorry for dragging you with me Viktor. Go head home now, I can get home myself."

"Don't say sorry. I asked to come with you. My fault." Viktor utters. But you don't hear him well. Instead you utter a quick goodbye and tell him to get home safe. You continue on your way home by yourself leaving Viktor behind. The snow rises on the sidewalk millimeters by the second making your walk more slippery and annoying.

When you arrive at the front door of your cheap apartment a wave of warmth washes over you. Maybe the cold has made you go numb and this is an illusion of warmth. Unlocking the door and going inside you stomp your shoes on the doormat to get the pesky snowflakes off. So does Viktor.

Viktor...

"VIKTOR?!" You shout and look up at him. Low and behold there's the 6'3 boxer right at your closed door. How could you miss him? He's fucking huge!

"There's no need to yell. We are indoors." He mutters and looks around at your messy apartment from where he stands like a statue.

Opening the door with a swing you put your hands on Viktor's chest and try to push him out. "Get out of my house! How did you even get here?!"

He looks at you plainly while you try to push his unmoving form out the door. "I said I would walk you home. Also this is an apartment, not a house."

The door shuts with a loud slam from the sheer force of your swing. "Quit messing with me! You can't be here Viktor! This is my hou- apartment!"

He just looks down at you and nods.

"Viktor! Ugh oh my god you're so freaking dense! I'm a woman." You gesture to your chest.

"I'm aware." He replies, eyes locked on your chest.

"N-NO! Stop looking at my chest!" He doesn't even flinch when you shove your palm in his eyes to make him look away.

"You wanted me to look at it."

"NO I-!" Your arms slap down to your sides. "Ugh... The point is that you can't just be in a woman's apartment. Especially without her permission! You're a man, I'm a woman. It's inappropriate."

Viktor quirks an eyebrow. "What are you implying?" His dark downcast eyes gaze into your own. A mixture of complex emotion stir within yours while there's only one in his.

Pure, Unadulterated, Affection

"Kroshechnyy." He hums gently and twirls a lock of your h/c hair in his finger. He's close, too close for friends let alone work acquittances. You can smell the shower gel and the dupe designer perfume on him. It's intoxicating.

But this is Viktor… the same man who one day cut you off and treated you like a stranger. You snap out of your daze and slap his hand away. "Stop that. We're not going there. You can stay here until the snow storm clears. But the moment the last flake falls I want you out."

He smirks and nods with a hum. "Thank you." Viktor hangs his jacket on your coat rack and steps further into your messy apartment. Not wanting him to trip in the dark you flick the light switch on.

Your living room is small. Small couch, small T.V, small dining table in the corner. There’s a tower of unwashed dishes in the sink and a bunch of medical textbooks on the table.

“I didn’t know I’d have a guest over so I didn’t tidy up.” You say as you scurry around the living space to clear some of the clutter.

“Hmm.” Viktor hums. Instead of standing like his usual still self he decides to help you clean, much to your dismissal.

“Hey you don’t have to do that! I got it.”

“Hm.”

He’s got it.

“No no don’t bother trying to clean that off, it’s been stained like that for months.”

“Hm.”

The stain is gone.

It goes back and forth like this for half an hour until your living room is all tidied up. This would have taken you over an hour without Viktor’s help. And you feel bad for having him help but you can’t help but feel grateful.

You two are seated at the table. As a subtle thanks to him you give him some left over beef stew which he devours under minutes.

“Thank you for helping me clean up… I appreciate it.” You thank him shyly.

Viktor looks up at you from his empty bowl. “No problem. Think of it as a favor between friends.”

The soft smile that grows on your face can’t be helped. His words were just so sweet. Viktor really was trying to make up for the past. And you understand he can’t tell you why he suddenly shut you out but you do know that the reason was likely for your own good. He did mention he got involved with bad people…

But there’s other issues at hand now. Like sleeping arrangements. The couch is tiny. No way could Viktor sleep on it. You however can kinda fit on it. Well, a quarter of your legs will be hanging off but it’s either that or sharing a bed with Viktor. And you’d rather not.

“So sleeping arrangements. I’ll take the couch since you won’t fit and you can take my bed.” You say and put away his bowl.

Viktor follows you into the kitchen as you wash the dish. “No. This is your home. You will sleep on your bed.”

“But what about you?” You say slightly worried. If he sleeps on the couch he’ll get some serious muscle pains. And that isn’t good for him considering he’s a boxer.

“Simple. We share bed.” He smiles with a small dopey grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re hogging the blankets.”

“Бо” (no)

“Yes you are.”

“Бо”

“You 6 foot bump on a log; I swear to god I’ll kick you off this bed and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I’d like to see you try kroshechnyy. Also, I am 6 foot 3 inches. Get it correct.”

You groan and turn the other way. It was like you two were kids again, bickering and fighting over who got most of the blanket.

After a large yawn you mumble, “Whatever. I’m exhausted so goodnight…”

Viktor says nothing in return. After a little under half an hour though you begin to snore softly after succumbing to your slumber. Viktor on the other hand has been wide awake the whole time. Flat on his back he stared at the ceiling waiting for you to fall asleep.

And now you were.

He leans up slowly as to not rustle the covers too much. Your eyes are shut and your lips are slightly parted, a tell tale sign of deep sleep. Slowly and carefully Viktor gets out of the bed. He walks around to your side where you lay asleep and vulnerable. Dark thoughts come to mind. He could do anything he wanted to you. You’re so small and weak compared to him. There’s no stopping him if he just picks you up and takes you home with him.

Scarred fingers gently brush against the plush of your cheeks. They’re so soft and warm.

“Cute.” He thinks to himself with a smile. Everything about you was adorable. Your protective nature of people because you’re a doctor, your height, your smile, and your personality.

Viktor’s so proud of you. He’s proud that you were able to make it out of the trenches of their east European town unscathed. Unlike him; he had to go through hell and back just to make enough money for food. He was never book smart like you. He was street smart, but street smarts didn’t put food on your plate.

His hands wander to your bare collarbone. Why would you wear such a revealing night shirt in the same bed as him? You were the one going on about how he was a man and you were a woman after all. But here you are seducing him with that low rise silk night top.

“My beautiful girl.” He whispers lowly while tracing over your skin with the tip of his finger.

“What do I have to do to make you mine?… I’ll do anything.”

“And I mean it.”

[tojisun]

sun, i am on my knees begging while typing rn. PLEASEEEEEE HURT DBF!SIMON BACK. he has hurt reader and gotten away with it tooooo many times

im kinda zooted rn but

beg more, sweet thing.

okok but im feeling mean rn and i do want simon to start regretting. i wonder if it’ll take seeing john price treating his girl right for him to snap out of it. imagine if he got blindsided. if simon assumed that you would never look for affection somewhere else, not because you’re unlovable—dear gods, you are the perfect girl—but because what you needed was someone like simon. someone older, someone who provides for you, who spoils you. but simon got complacent. he thought that sprinkles of affection are enough.

but they aren’t, are they? yes, the thrill had been addicting but you’ve gotten too soft. too in love. you’ve forgotten that this should have been temporary, forgotten that simon isn’t one for commitment. you thought you would continue to be trapped in that endless cycle of eating the scraps of simon’s affection; living off of a passion that gets easily snuffed out.

then, john came along. beautiful and rugged and ‘old man’ john. john whose eyes are a storm as they gazed at you; whose hands have never strayed closer, only swiping your hair away or drying the tears staining your cheeks; whose words are short and curt but gentle and soft, and you realized that the timbre of his voice fills you up with want.

john who strapped his helmet on yours and plopped you on the back of his harley before dropping you off at your dorm. john who didn’t ask for anything—not your number, not a chance to climb up with you to your room. he did not even ask if you were going to be alright—john knew you wouldn’t be, and he rather stay silent than ask you to lie to him.

you felt so out of your element as you stood there, trembling, looking at him.

“i-…thank you,” you said.

john said don’t worry about it. said don’t forget to drink lots of water because crying can cause dehydration, and don’t forget to grab a chew because he heard your stomach grumble on the ride home. you don’t tell him that you are starved for something else so you nod and climb upstairs to your room, thinking that was the last you would see john.

but john isn’t the type to let what he loves slip from his grasp so he began to fill your days. he’s always there when simon can’t—doesn’t—come, filling up the hole in your heart one fragment at a time. always there to distract you from the yawning in your chest. always there to listen to you, to watch you, to spoil you.

he smells of ozone and burnt rubber and petrol. he has weary lines on his face and unimaginable exhaustion buried within his irises. he has scars on his palms and his forearms and on his knees. and yet, he is gorgeous to you. so gorgeous.

john’s the one who tells you he loves you first. you don’t say it back. not yet. he understands.

then, simon confronts him. asks what he’s doing with you; why is he driving you around in his harley; why is he picking you up from uni.

why is he putting a wedge between you and simon?

john downs his bourbon and rumbles, “cause i love her.”

and simon fumbles because—

[sailorspren]

I'm not a cosmere theories freak but I do have one theory I'm very passionate about which is that the pure tones of Roshar sound like sine wave synths! Let me explain :) I am taking "pure" to mean "consisting of only one note (and no overtones)", which is basically the definition of a sine wave. A sine wave is the representation of a single frequency with no harmonics and is considered an acoustically pure tone. Sine waves don't occur naturally - real world sounds always have overtones, in varying quantities. We can synthesize sine waves, however, and they sound like this (I played it in different pitches so you can get an idea of the timbre):

Here's a visual representation of a sine wave:

So this is what I imagine it sounds like when Dalinar opens a perpendicularity, or when singers hear pure notes in highstorms. And because the sound of a sine wave is so unnatural, it would really stand out and feel otherworldly on a planet that doesn't have modern technology - and I feel like that fits the description.

We also know that it's possible to use tuning forks to play the three pure tones of roshar and pull the matching types of light out of gemstones. While acoustic instruments can't produce a truly pure note (aka a sine audio wave), tuning forks come pretty close. They initially produce high overtones, but those fade out quickly, and then the forks keep resonating with a pure tone. It makes sense that tuning forks are the closest Rosharan humans can get to synthesizing a sine wave!

There's also the fact that Raboniel can sing the pure notes and get the lights to respond, while Navani can't. Is it just because Raboniel's pitch is more accurate, or do singers have an physiological ability to produce notes with less overtones? This is really interesting to me...

And one more fun thing to consider. You know what other instrument comes pretty close to producing a pure tone? The flute! Hoid gave Kaladin a flute... idk if it actually has any reasoning behind it but I really hope it does 😂 imagine how cool it will be if it will be used for musical magic system stuff

[velvetchrry]

━━━━ PRETTY LITTLE BIRDS

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x f!reader

2k. simon gets a checkup. he’s assigned as your patient today.

“Mr. Riley?” your voice rings out through the small lobby. You don’t expect it to be him when he stands up - hulking behemoth of a man, skull painted balaclava gracing his strong face. You don’t really know why you placed any expectations upon it, his name. Riley. It was simple. Short. Sweet.

You shake yourself from your stupor when he walks up to you. You give him a small smile before turning around and leading him towards your room. He doesn't say anything, but from what little you got from skimming his file, it doesn’t surprise you. It goes either way with military guys - either they’re like the chatty Scot in your chair just last week, or they’re like him - reserved. Calculating.

Sitting behind the desk, computer screen already pulled up to his chart with the tap of your badge against the scanner. He sits in one of the chairs in front of you and… have they always been that small? He looks almost uncomfortable, his body smushed into the wooden thing. He doesn't say anything, doesn’t let out a complaint, just accepts it for what it is. You’re almost certain he’s sat or slept in worse.

You clear your throat before speaking. It’s a habit when you’re nervous, but also because you need to clear the silence that’s permeating through the air. “So, uh, Mr. Riley,” you start. “You sustained a fair amount of injuries, but the thigh wound is the biggest consideration. Seems like you’re walking okay on it… any concerns?”

The room fills with a pregnant silence again at the absense of your voice. He shakes his head no. Really not chatty, but that’s okay. You respect that, the silence that some patients need. You could absolutely talk his ear off if he needed but you know when the time to keep the chatter short is. You can do that. Short. Sweet. Like his name.

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth as you take a glance over at the screen. “I’m going to order labs - routine stuff. Just to make sure everything’s in good shape.” You fingers click clack on the keyboard as you type in the order. He stays silent, doesn’t move even an inch from his position as you type away. You can feel him observing you, taking you in, assessing.

You stand up and motion to the exam table. He follows suit, siting his hulking body up there with ease. You’re almost positive he didn’t need to do the little hop you always have to do to get up there. You quickly glove up, opening a drawer containing phlebotomy supplies. When you turn back around, there’s something unspoken in his eyes. You motion to his arm and he nods and pulls the arm out of his zip up.

You swallow thickly. His arms are massive, and you work on a military base full of hulking men. Your bottom lip works its way between your teeth again while you tie the tourniquet off around his massive bicep, struggling slightly because it’s almost not long enough. He makes a fist without you asking him to, knowing the routine.

“Do this yourself, rather than a nurse?”

You have to stop yourself from jumping out of your skin at the rough timbre of his voice. You suck in a breath before speaking.

“I was an ED nurse, before I went back to school to become a P.A.”

You rub the alcohol swab across his antecubital. You prime the needle, warn him about the small poke, and start filling the vials with his blood. It’s silent again, the only noise filling the air the sloshing of his red ichor into each small glass vial and what you’re sure is your loud breathing.

The gauze is wrapped around his arm gingerly after you pull out the needle. “Well Mr. Riley… if there are no concerns..?” He shakes his head, sliding off the exam table and standing up next to you. His hulking form absolutely towers over you. He subtly nods his head in your direction before moving towards the door. “Thanks Doc,” he says on the way out, and you don’t bother correcting him as he leaves the room.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been here before!” one of your coworkers nudges you, already a bit drunk. The bar is dark, a hole in the wall, with sticky floors and music loud enough that you need to slightly raise your voice to talk to someone if they aren’t right next to you. The only people who really come here are people at the base. It’s the regular spot, you've learned.

You smile at her and take a sip of your drink. You only moved here a few months ago and haven’t really had the desire to venture out yet. You’re crowded around a standing high top with a few of the other medical staff you work with. They pratically begged you to come out with them tonight, and having turned down all their offers in the past you felt inclined to accept.

“Holy shit, is that Simon Riley? He’s fucking legend.”

“I would climb him like a tree. Mmm.”

Your attention whips from your coworkers to the object of their desires across the bar. Sure enough, his hulking form is sat there with a few other guys. You think you recognize one of them from the medical office. You turn back, trying not to stare.

They drone on about him, wondering if he has a secret girlfriend, wondering if he’s gay, wondering whose advances he would accept out of the group. Finally, one of the girls gets the courage and makes her way over to the table of guys, a slight swish in her hips on approach.

“Bonnie little bird, aye LT?” Soaps asks. He noticed - of course he did. The Scot seems to be the one to really notice him. Don’t get him wrong, so do the other guys - Price especially - but it seems that Johnny really knows him like a brother. His best mate, really. Not that he’d ever say it outloud.

Simon just grunts in response. He thought he was being sneaky with his observations of you, at least enough for Johnny not to notice. You, who didn’t push him to speak, or feel the need to fill the silence with useless chatter. You, who did your best to give him what respect and space you could. You, small, little thing, who didn’t look up at him with terror in your eyes.

His mouth dried up, teeth sticking to his gums. “Saw ‘er for a check up las’ week,” Johnny adds. “Sweet lass.”

Simon straightens his already rigid posture. He knows what Johnny is trying to do, get a rise out of him, see what he’ll divulge. It’s not often Simon notices people who are not threats or targets. He thought about you more than he’d care to admit after his appointment yesterday afternoon.

He pegged you for a chatty little thing. Thought for sure you would be uncomfortable with the silence that usually follows him. He was surprised to be wrong about you. Pleasantly. Didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

“Right sweetheart,” Simon agrees. It comes out of his mouth before he can even stop it. He isn’t sure why it heats his cheeks. Isn’t sure why his cottonmouth is even worse than before. He can feel Johnny grinning beside him.

“Should go talk to ‘er, LT?” Johnny suggests, his voice lower, so the other guys won’t pick up on it. Simon shakes his head and Johnny makes a noise. “Ach, c’mon.”

Simon is about to respond when he notices one of the girls from your group get up and make a beeline to their table. He sees the slight blush that colors your cheeks at her approach, even in the darkness of the bar. She saunters over, eyes locked on him. He clenches his jaw.

“It’s Simon, right?!” she practically squeals. He doesn’t even look at her, his eyes locked onto you, squirming in your seat while watching this unfold. He gives her a grunt in confirmation. She leans onto the table right where he sits and a low chuckle escapes Johnny. She bends down, pushing her breasts together with her arms. “You want to buy me a drink?” she purrs.

“Lass, how about…” Johnny starts, wanting to spare her from whatever it is that Simon will say but his gruff voice cuts him off.

“Not interested.” His eyes still haven’t left yours to look over at her. She straightens up from her position on the table. “So, what? You really are gay then?” Hurt and rejection carries through in the high pitch of her voice.

The lads at the table break out into laughter. Her face reddens and she scoffs before turning away. Simon still looks at you, that sweet pink plump lip of yours nestled softly between your teeth again. He imagines what it would feel like to have it between his teeth instead. He wants to trace his thumb across the span of your lips. You skin so soft under his rough hands. His pants start to tent, blood rushing south.

He clears his throat and adjusts slightly in his seat. “Gonna take a piss,” he says under his breath to Johnny. He expertly maneuvers his way towards the bathroom, sliding through the throngs of people at the bar. He nods to some of the men he knows from various ops on his way there. He stops at the hallway to the bathrooms and when he hears the opening of a door he turns the corner.

“Oof, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there!” You squeak out. He places his massive hands on your arms to steady you. “Mr. Riley..” you trail off in recognition.

“Doc,” he nods at you. “Just Simon.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Simon feels a pinch in his chest. “You upset my coworker,” you blurt. Heat rises up your neck, you cheeks flush. His hands are still on you.

“Lemme guess, she’s tryna decide which of the blokes at the table is my secret lover.”

A sly smile breaks out on your face. “Something like that,” you admit sheepishly.

He leans down, having to really bend over to get down to your level. “Who’s your money on, then?” His voice is a gravelly whisper and it causes heat to pool in your lower abdomen.

You bite your lip and it takes every ounce of self control in him not to pull it out with his thumb. He fists his hand so hard, he almost draws blood with his fingernails.

“Blue eyes, sitting next to you,” you finally say.

He lets out a low chuckle and you decide you really like the way that sounds. You want to know how to make him do it again. The noise sends electricity through your body, pebbling your nipples against your lacy bra.

“Solid choice, that.” He straightens back up and you’re reminded again just how big of a man he is. “But I prefer pretty little birds.”

You blink up at him, not quite sure what’s happening right now. You’re trying to meld this Simon to the one in your office yesterday, but they almost seem like two different people. You swallow thickly. Something fills the air between you, something abuzz with energy. Something you’re not sure if you can name.

“You play darts?” he asks suddenly. You shake your head no. You know generally how to play but you’re not very good at it. “You want to learn?”

You pinch your lips together and your eyes flash toward the high top with your coworkers. Simon doesn’t miss this, of course he doesn’t. He holds his breath, waiting for your decision. He wants to put you over his shoulder, walk straight out of the bar and take you home to his flat. But he knows that’s not the way things are done. He doesn’t want to scare you off, not when you're already so receptive to him. So different from the others — like your coworker, who think they are owed some piece of him. So he waits.

“O.. okay,” you finally accept.

Simon smiles under the mask, his eyes crinkling the only indication of his delight.

[yankpop]

Yandere BTS OT7 - Mistake

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. 

SUMMARY: You make a big mistake and now you deal with the consequences.

Check more: Masterlist.

OT7 x Female reader

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping.

AN: I really made Jimin the bad guy here, but I hope you guys like it 💖

--

You hold your breath for a solid minute, staring at the door as it shakes.

The banging on the door progressively gets more violent as the loud commotion outside of the bathroom you just locked yourself in increases. 

The realization of what you did slowly starts to hit you. 

But you know very clearly how badly you’ve messed up. 

“Y/n! Open this door right now!” Hoseok and Jimin yell, angry voices mixing in. 

“Open it right fucking now!” 

“Don’t you dare ignore us!” 

You wince as a hard punch is thrown at the poor door, silently thanking the strong wood for withstanding the boys’s wrath. 

It’s the only thing keeping you safe from a horrible punishment, although you’re not stupid enough to think you can spend the rest of your life hidden in the bathroom.  

“What is going on here?” a new voice joins, overlapping over the rest of the angry voices, and you guess it’s Namjoon from the deep timbre. 

“Look at this, hyung! Y/n tried pushing Jimin down the stairs and now she’s locked herself in the bathroom.” 

You can practically see Namjoon’s brows rising in disbelief. 

The handle moves and upon realizing that the door is indeed locked shut, there’s a new knock on the door, although this one is much softer than the previous ones. 

“Y/n? Is this true?” he questions you, voice laced with disappointment. “Did you try to hurt Jimin?” 

Hot tears prickle your eyes as the struggle to hold them back proves itself to be worthless.

They’re gonna get so mad at you. They’re gonna hurt you.

“N-No.” 

“Liar!” Jimin cuts you off, and you jump at an unexpected fierce bang to the door. “I was trying to be nice and you fucking pushed me away!”

His explanation is twisted and it awakens flames of annoyance inside you. 

Jimin is not someone you would rank highly when it came to the boys, despite having no clear favorites amongst them.

You hate them all.

They’re all kidnappers, for all you care. But Jimin is particularly pushy when it comes to you and you hate him dearly for that. 

“You’re the liar!” you scream back, still maintaining a safe distance from the door. “You…Why don’t you tell the truth, you asshole?” 

You don’t wait for him to reply before continuing. 

“Namjoon, he tried slipping his hands underneath my shirt.” you sniff, cringing at the fresh memory of Jimin’s cold hands sneaking around your belly, starved to touch any inch of your skin. “He touched me, so I pushed him. He- I didn’t realize the stairs were so close, okay?” 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Jimin-ah, why would you do that?” 

The muffled question from Jin has a light spark of hope igniting in you. Jin is one of the nicest, he’ll surely understand your situation. 

“I didn’t grope her! It was barely a touch!” 

“Jimin…” Namjoon sighs, clearly having doubts over the younger boy’s dubious explanation.  

“Hyung, I’m telling the truth! Y/n is the one lying!” Jimin argued back, his heated temper making his voice rise. “She’s just making excuses for the fact that she tried hurting me. She’s the one who went crazy on me and tried to shove me down the stairs.” 

“I didn’t-”

“She was probably hoping that I’d break my neck or something.” The malicious tone that Jimin uses upsets you. 

“I already said it was an accident!” you try to defend yourself.

“It didn’t look much like an accident.” Yoongi contradicts you. 

“Yeah, it really didn’t.” You shake your head at Jungkook’s words, feeling yourself getting slightly hysterical. 

You want to scream and shout. Of course they’re gonna take Jimin’s side. 

“It was an accident!” your voice is considerably aggravated, and it shows. “I didn’t mean to!” 

“Then come out.” Jimin challenges you. “What are you hiding for, if it was an accident?” 

You ignore him. 

The boys argue back and forth, with Jimin vehemently insisting it's all your fault against Jin and Taehyung, who try their best to minimize your actions. 

Finally, when the argument threatens to escalate into a fight, Namjoon intervenes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, guys. There’s no point in fighting like this. Let’s solve the situation like adults.”

There’s a softer knock on the door. 

“Y/n? Can you please come out?” 

You don’t even think before throwing a loud no. 

“Sweetheart, please, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jin tries.

“Speak for yourself.” Jimin’s voice isn’t low enough to go unheard, and the hair on your arms rises at the implicit threat.

“Jimin!” several boys hiss. 

“Baby, please, just come out!” Taehyung begs. "We can talk things out."

“Y/n, we just want to clear up the situation, okay?” Namjoon tries again, using a pacific tone. “No one is punishing you without having the whole story, I promise.” 

You shake your head, heart pounding in your ears as you walk further away from the door. You don’t believe him.

In the end, they’ll hurt you. You know that. 

Curling yourself into the small space next to the bathtub, you bury your face in your arms.

Any previous anger and energy you had is now fully drained, the seriousness of your situation making you dwell into a light depression. 

You’re tired. So fucking tired of them. 

They’ve turned you into a captive, took away all of your life choices, stripped you away from your freedom. All for a poor excuse of love, as they claimed it. 

Obsessed freaks, that’s what they truly are. 

You cover your ears with your hands, blocking away their circus of begging, threatening and bribing. 

You’re not opening the door. 

It takes less than an hour for them to finally get inside the bathroom. 

By then, you’re slightly more anxious, having cried all the tears you had and yet new ones are ready to spill when Jungkook and Jin’s combined strength finally breaks the door down. 

As already expected, Jimin is the first one to stride in, closely followed by the rest of the boys. 

But what scares you the most is the terrifyingly sly smirk that he dedicates you as he bends down. One of his hands grips your hair, aggressively pulling your head back as he leans down to whisper on your ear. 

“I don’t care what Namjoon hyung said before.” he says, “But you’re getting punished. We’ll see if you can even walk after what I’m about to do to you.”

[roguelov]

OKAY BUT IMAGINE;

Becoming Morpheus's safe space or his emotional support human. Like one day you're walking through the Dreaming and you find Morpheus, who is completely overwhelmed with his feelings and is hiding from everyone. So you, who has been completely nervous and a little intimidated by him bc he's literally an Endless, go up to him and hug him without hesitation. You comfort him without asking any questions or trying to get him to talk about it. You just let him feel with no judgement.

Que to like maybe a couple weeks or months later where Morpheus just constantly seeks out your touch for comfort. Like will literally cross a whole room just to touch you no matter whoever is there or wherever you two are. He just automatically relaxs at the touch and he also like to see the light blush that appears on your face because despite how normal the touching is by now, he still makes you nervous in a butterflies in the stomach type of way.

OH MY GOD MY HEART IS MELTING AT THIS I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS UNTIL YOU SAID IT

You were in the library assisting Lucienne with reorganizing all the new books. The two of you were talking about anything and everything. It was calm, and enjoyable.

Until such a peace was interrupted.

Hasty footsteps cut through your melodic conversation. You both turned your head to find Morpheus marching through the library. His eyes determined and somewhat harsh as each of his steps were filled with a near righteous purpose. He seemed to be on some personal - and dare you say important - mission. As if, he was trying to locate something, or someone.

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. Instantly, he beelined it directly towards you. Once within your grasp, he hugged you from behind.

Someone. He was trying to find someone, and that being you.

You tensed up, feeling your heart skip. His arms tightened around your waist as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder. He let out a deep long heavy exhale as some internal weight lifted off of him.

Lucienne bit back a smile. You glanced at her with wide eyes, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks. She knew of your small crush on the Endless, a secret she swore to keep. “I will finish later, there are other things I must do,” she said with a slight playfulness in her voice.

You wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but all those words died on your lips. Once she disappeared from sight, you let out a small sigh. She will give you grief later.

“Apologies,” Morpheus murmured, still clinging to you. You tensed at the soft hypnotic timbre of his voice. “It has been a … difficult morning.”

With each passing second, the stress continued to melt off of him. How could one hug, one touch from you, calm him so immensely?

“It’s ok,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Just took me a bit off guard.”

“Should I -“ he slowly removed his arms.

“No,” you blurted out. “It’s fine, really. You just looked so … so … angry earlier, I didn’t know what you were going to do.”

Morpheus sighed, returning his arms around you grateful for it. “Again, I am sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Please you don’t have to apologize. If I can bring you any kind of comfort then I’m happy to help.”

His arms gave you a small squeeze, almost as if in a silent thank you. “You truly are a wonder to behold,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered at his touching words. “How so,” you asked with a giddy smile as you placed your hands over top of his.

“You can always calm my chaotic emotions.”

You turned your head slightly to peer at him from the corner of your eye. All you saw was his messy ruffled hair. You leaned your head towards his, and lovingly rest it against his. “Always happy to help,” you whispered softly into his hair.

Morpheus was thankful to have hid his face, for he knew if you looked at him you could see his unspoken love for you. A mortal who went from stranger to confidante. His dear mortal whose words and touch can assuage any turmoil within him. His infatuation that held his heart in a way he could not comprehend. His love who he hoped would stay by his side when he gathered the courage to ask.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

Thank you for everything.

“Of course, I’m always here for you,” you hummed.

[moonstruckme]

omg hi! I love your writing so much and I’ve seen that you asked for doctor Remus requests and he’s on my mind day and night, I simply love how you write him. I don’t know if it’s a thing in other countries as well but in mine you have to go to the doctors around your birthday for like check ups and stuff like that, mine is coming up and I’m already dreading it (mostly because of the blood test, I end up fainting every time😣) but I’m sure it would be better if it was with Remus instead🥰

Thanks for requesting sweetheart, hope it goes okay!!

cw: description of anxiety, mention of needle, implied blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 972 words

The doctor’s voice is so soothing you keep almost forgetting where you are. You don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose. 

“Alright.” He catches your ankle before you can kick him, sharing a smile with you as he pockets the small mallet he’s been using to test your reflexes. “Everything seems perfect.” 

“Thanks,” you say, then feel stupid.

You don’t know why you’re acting like he’s complimented you. You’re getting flustered by his raspy timbre and attractive hands (which had, just a few minutes before, felt gently along your neck and the underside of your jaw like you were a thing to be treated with care. Not that that’s important). The doctor—Remus, he’d told you to call him—smiles politely anyway. 

“All that’s left to do is get you sorted at the lab,” he says, typing something quickly into his computer, “and then you’re free to go. Ready?” 

“Um, yeah.” It’s a struggle to hear yourself over the beating of your heart. You can only hope you sound normal. You’d known this was coming, and still it’s giving you the cold sweats. “I just feel like I should maybe warn you, I tend not to do well with the blood test.” 

He glances over. “You’ve had problems before?” 

“I sometimes faint.” Your foot starts jiggling of its own accord. You don’t notice until Remus’ gaze drops to it. You stop. “Every time, actually.” 

“That’s fine,” he says, straightening and turning away from the computer. “In that case, I’ll probably keep you in here so we can do it with you lying down. Does that sound alright?” 

You blink. “Um, sure.” 

The nerves are hard to miss in your voice now, and you can’t quite meet Remus’ eyes as he directs a gentle smile your way. He gives your knee a squeeze on his way to the door.

“I’m going to go get some things,” he tells you. “I’ll be back soon, but while I’m gone I just want you to practice taking some deep breaths, yeah?” 

You nod. Another flash of that small, reassuring smile as he goes out the door. 

You try to do as he says, forcing your lungs to fill and then empty and attempting to ignore the pounding of your heartbeat. You can feel it in your face, in your temples, in your teeth. You’ll think you’re starting to get it to slow, and then a pair of footsteps will come down the hall and it’ll speed right back up again. 

It’s almost a relief when Remus comes back, putting an end to your apprehensive torment. 

“You can go ahead and lay back, love,” he says, holding the supplies low where you can hardly see them, and you take care not to try. The paper crinkles underneath you as you flatten out on your back. Remus chuckles when it tears a bit and you wince. “You’re fine, it can’t be helped. I’m just going to feel for a vein, alright? Not doing anything just yet.” 

You keep your gaze on the ceiling as his gloved finger probes gently at the crook of your elbow. It’s hopelessly plain and undiverting up there, no tiles to count or anything. 

“How are you feeling?” Remus asks conversationally. 

“Okay.” Your voice comes out with a bit of squeak to it, not entirely convincing. 

“Keep breathing for me.” The warmth of his touch leaves, and then a rubbery tourniquet is being tied around your arm. “I don’t want you to worry about fainting. It’s perfectly alright if you do, but we’re going to do our best to keep that from happening, okay?” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Good, just try and stay relaxed.” His voice drops lower, and now you know the soothing effect is intentional, each of his words mellow and mollifying. “Any plans for after you leave here?” 

“I, um.” You tense when you feel the cold wipe swipe over your elbow. Remus thumbs over your forearm calmingly. “I don’t know.” 

“Seems like you deserve a sweet or something after this, yeah? What sort of things do you like?” 

“I did buy myself ice cream,” you admit, “to have after I get home.” 

“Smart girl.” There’s a smile in Remus’ voice. You’re tempted to lift your head and see it for yourself, but you don’t. “I like the pre-planning. What kind is it?” 

You feel the odd bite of the needle into your skin, and your breath catches. 

“You’re alright,” he promises you, rubbing the inside of your forearm again. “What kind of ice cream did you get, sweetheart?” 

You swallow. “It’s that new, fancy gelato kind.” Your voice sounds higher than before. 

“Oh, I haven’t tried that yet. What flavor?” 

You’re starting to get a bit dizzy. “Chocolate cherry?”

“That sounds fantastic. I’m quite partial to chocolate myself.” You feel something shift, and Remus says, “Nearly done. You might be convincing me to pick some of that up. You’ll have to come back here and give me your thoughts once you’ve finished it.” 

You laugh a little, and he echoes it. 

“Keep still,” he reminds you. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” You feel the needle come out. It surprises you, a quiet whimper slipping from inside your throat. He tsks kindly. “All done, love. You did really well.” 

“Seriously?” You lift your head, and Remus’ eyes are faintly amused as they meet yours. He’s sticking a bandage over your arm. 

“Very seriously,” he confirms. “You did beautifully. That ice cream is well deserved.” 

The laugh that leaves you is light and pitchy with disbelief. “Thank you. I really owe you your own ice cream, after this.” 

He wraps a hand around your elbow, helping you to sit back up. “Careful,” he says lightly, “I might hold you to that. Next time I see you, I’ll be expecting a detailed review at the least.”