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holdmytesseract · 4 months

Note

Request from @anukulee to @holdmytesseract

Title: Getting Her Out Of My Head

Plot: Magnus can’t stand her, she reminds him too much of what he has seen at work, time after time. As he watches his work tear people apart. Yet still she fights him even when he knows far better. Despite this he finds himself more and more drawn to her, and what happened when he may finally have to put his big boy pants on.

Magnus age range; 30 - 42 (at most)

Reader age range; 25 (fresh out of the academy), - 29 (oldest)

POV: Magnus

Concepts: Enemies to lovers, male falls hard, male pov, grumpy x sharp tongue sunshine, and angst with happy ending.

The Quarrel of Lovers Is The Renewel of Love

Magnus Martinsson x fem!Reader

Summary: You are Magnus Martinsson's reckless protégée; acting headless and not listening to a word he says - what gets you in a dangerous situation in the end... And the policeman to confess his feelings...

Warnings: Magnus PoV?, police things, mentions of guns, knives and drugs, fluff, angst, dangerous situation, mutual pining? age gap

Word Count: 2,7k

a/n: I'm so sorry this took me so long, friend! I changed the title - what I hope is okay! Also, I really hope that you like what my brain came up with! :)

Hiddles Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique @eleniblue @huntedmusicgardenn

Masterlist

"Hey, Martinsson!" One of the other detectives inside the big office at the police station in Ystad called out to the curly haired man, who was currently standing in front of the printer; trying to get the stubborn device to work again.

He lifted his gaze at the call of his name; eyes searching the room for the source of the voice. It was Clas Anderson - one of the rare colleagues Magnus didn't get along with. He was just way too arrogant and smart-aleck for his liking. The blond haired man took a deep breath and called out: "What is it, Clas?" His colleague responded with a spiteful smirk. "When do you finally learn to get your chaotic apprentice under control, huh?" Magnus rolled his eyes with a big sigh, "What did she do this time?" and abandoned the printer, in order to walk over to his colleague.

"Acting headless - as always. Even on observation. I won't take her with me again." Clas stepped closer, almost in a threatening way. "Y/L/N is your responsibility. Talk sense into her, damnit." Anderson pressed his pointer finger into the hard muscle of Magnus' chest. "Or I'm paying the executive floor a visit and tell them you're not fitting this role." The detective sighed. "I know that. I'm already doing everything I can, but she just won't listen. She's stubborn." "I don't care, Martinsson. That's your problem. Fucking fix it." With a snarl and a last threatening look, Clas brushed past Magnus.

It's been already almost six months since Y/N Y/L/N had joined the team in Ystad - but it passed for Magnus with almost no progression. He was chosen to be the young, aspiring detective's mentor. He had the duty to teach her; show her how a police officer should work. Take her under his wing. It sounded great in the beginning. Magnus' chest filled with pride, knowing that he was trusted with such a task. Over the years, he had definitely become one of the most important officers for the team. He got older; more mature - and it showed. Magnus knew exactly what he was doing. Kurt had taught him well.

But the excitement about this new chapter in his work life subsided soon... As soon as he met the quirky, young and talkative woman he should guide through her first years as a police officer - just like Kurt had guided him. Well, sometimes more, sometimes less, but that wasn't the point. From the first meeting between him and Y/N, he immediately felt that this wasn't going to work. Their perspectives were just too different. Y/N was reckless, stubborn and acted often headless. She didn't follow his instructions, which often put her in danger. Luckily no real danger, but it was enough to infuriate the curly haired man.

He did his best to not let her get under his skin, but Magnus couldn't help himself. At the end of the day, she was his 'apprentice' and 'responsibility'. It annoyed him to the core. She annoyed him to the core and yet he wasn't able to just turn his back on her. He couldn't. He didn't want to - and every night, he asked himself why. It could be so easy for him. One word was enough.

Magnus shook his head; ripping himself out of his deep thoughts. He ran a hand through his meanwhile dark blond mane. His curls had become visibly darker with the years.

He had grown. Not just mentally.

"Let's get this over with..." He sighed and made his way out of the room and down the hall to his office. Yes, he had a very own office by now. Walking through the glass door, he already saw her seated there; innocently playing with the slighty too long sleeves of your light blue blouse. Magnus swallowed. He didn't actually really want to do this, but he had to.

Rather loudly, he closed the door behind himself; causing her to jump slightly. "Y/L/N..." The detective addressed her sternly with her surname. "What happened during observation with Anderson?" His deep blue eyes settled on her smaller frame; watching her scrunch her nose and shrugging her shoulders. "I just did what I thought was right." Y/N answered nonchalantly. Magnus frowned; not quite believing her. "Clas said you acted headless. Again." The woman with the Y/H/C scoffed. "I didn't act headless! I just wanted to interfere, before-" The older detective gritted his teeth; tired of her constant excuses and her not owning up to her obvious mistakes.

Clas may be an arsehole - but he was an experienced detective and certainly not stupid.

Magnus had a long thread of patience, but it came how it had to come someday... He lost it. "You know what, Y/L/N? I don't want to hear it! Don't waste your breath! This is going to lead nowhere - like all our serious conversations do! It's pointless, until you finally stop being so utterly stubborn and headless and listen to me - or other experienced detectives!" Y/N stood up from her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not a newbie anymore, Magnus! I know what I'm doing!" Magnus shook his head. "No, you don't! You don't have the experience! I never said that you're a newbie! Sure, you know your job, but sometimes you just should listen to me! It'll get you in serious trouble sometime! I can assure you that!"

The woman groaned in frustration and rounded the desk; stepped closer to her mentor. So close, that she was almost chest to chest with him. "I don't think I'm the problem. You are. You didn't like me from the first day. Don't pretend it isn't true! You just don't trust in my skills enough is all!"

The curly haired man felt the blood boil within his veins. Why was she so annoying and unreasonable? "No, that is not true! I just don't want you getting yourself hurt or even killed! We're not dealing with kid stuff like neighbour fights or drunkards behind a steering wheel, no..." He sighed; pinching the bridge of his nose. "Y/N, we are dealing with the heavy stuff. Raids, drug businesses and murder! I've seen what this job can do to people! I know what can happen, so please... Please let me talk some sense into you right now!" His apprentice stepped even closer. So close, that he could feel her warm breath on his face. "I know what we are doing, Magnus. I'm neither stupid, nor blind. Learn to trust me more. Have some confidence in me and stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

She held his hard gaze for a few seconds, then walked past him; "My shift it over. I'll see you tomorrow." and left him behind in his office.

Magnus wanted to scream and throw something against the wall. Why does she had to make things so difficult? It could be so easy! After taking a few deep breaths, he sat down at his desk; closing his eyes for a short moment. "This woman is going to break my nerves..." The curly haired man muttered to himself; opening a file he had to work on.

Only a mere week later happened exactly that what Magnus always tried to prevent from happen. Y/N's recklessness got her into a dangerous situation...

The pair was on observation duty today; for a case involving a drug business. Their suspect was a young man; living in the poorer district of Ystad. Together, Magnus and Y/N walked to the detectives car. "Remember, Y/N... We are just on observation, okay?" She opened the passenger door; giving him a smile. "Sure, Mags! I got it. Loosen up a little." Eyeing her for another moment, he sat inside the car; slamming the door shut.

The older police officer drove them to their destination - a very old, bedraggled building at the edge of the town. It has been reported that this was a 'famous' drug business destination, so... And besides was their suspect spotted here before. Magnus parked the car a bit offsides; not to attract any attention. And with that, the observation started. It took a long few hours until something was happening in front of the building... A car stopped right in front of it. Somebody was getting out of the vehicle.

The curly haired man grabbed his binocular. "It's him. It's Bergman." The young police officer reached for her binoculars as well. "Looks like he's waiting for someone." Magnus agreed. "Yes..."

"Let's get closer."

The curly haired man shook his head. "No, Y/N. We are just observing, remember?" "Yes, but-" "No buts. We are staying in this car." The young woman inhaled deeply. "Yes, boss."

"Stop calling me that." "Why?" "Because I don't like it and you know it." She giggled. "Alright... Boss."

Magnus rolled his eyes; feeling his nerves stressed out again. "Y/N, I swear, if you don't-" "Oh my gosh, this is a drug deal! We are witnessing one of Bergman's drug deals!" She suddenly interrupted her mentor; gazing through the binoculars again, "Look!" and reached over to slap the elder man's shoulder. Martinsson did what Y/N asked him to do and watched the scenes unfold through his binoculars.

He swallowed. "It seems like it, yes." "We have to intervene, Magnus! We have to do something!" For the nth time, the curly haired detective shook his head. "No, we won't," he hissed. "If we do that now, just intervene and something gets wrong, we- Y/N, stop!"

He shouldn't have averted his eyes from his protégée. A mistake with consequences.

The last thing he saw of her, was how she stormed out of the car; weapon drawn. "Damnit!" Magnus cursed; slamming his hands down on the steering wheel, before running them through his thick curls. Quickly reaching for the binoculars again, he watched her every step; his fingers curling tightly around it.

Don't act with precipitation, don't act with precipitation, Magnus repeated the words like a prayer inside his head. Keep a cool head.

He watched how Y/N sneaked up towards the building and the two men; clearly with the intention to corner them - and that's what the young police officer did, but without success.

One of the two men (not the main suspect) broke out in panic and fled. Magnus swallowed; still watching. She went to approach Bergman; wanted to arrest him, but it didn't go how she planned this. Exactly that happened, what Magnus always had been afraid of... Y/N's headlessness got her into a dangerous, life threatening situation...

Everything happened so fast. One moment she was about to put handcuffs around Bergman's wrists and the next she found herself in the clutches of another man - probably their suspect's friend or henchman, with her gun on the ground and a knife pressed snugly against her neck. That was the moment Magnus lost it. He had to intervene. He needed to save this reckless woman and protect her. At all costs. He knew that he should call for backup and get this done the right and proper way, but he couldn't. Seeing Y/N with a knife pressed against her neck, caused the attentive policeman to lose it.

Magnus' heart dropped into his gut. It made him act headless, too.

He stormed out of the car; slamming the door shut behind himself. As fast as possible, he sneaked his way over. Magnus' heart was thumping against his ribcage; adrenaline, fear and nervosity flooded his system. Gritting his teeth and taking a few deep breaths, he left his hideout - gun drawn and loaded. "Ystad polisen! Släpp kniven!" The man's eyes who held Y/N widened, while Bergman wanted to reach for his own weapon. Something Magnus halted. "Tänk inte ens tanken! Händerna bakom huvudet, nu!" Then he turned to face the other young man. "Och du ska släppa kniven och låta henne gå!"

The man with black hair scoffed. "Varför ska vi låta henne gå?" The curly haired detective gritted his teeth. He saw only two ways out of this... Actually one. Shooting them was definitely not an option.

He looked over at Y/N. He saw how the young woman trembled in the bulkier man's arms; trying to hold back the tears.

Magnus swallowed hard. "Låt henne gå så låter jag dig gå." As a sign that he really meant it, the detective engaged the safety of his gun and threw it away, before he lifted his hand in surrender. Y/N's eyes widened at the foolish behaviour of Magnus. She had never seen him acting like this before.

"Låt henne nu gå."

The two men looked at each other and nodded. The black haired one threw Y/N aside and both started to run; quickly vanishing out of their sight.

Magnus didn't hesitate; was quick to rush immediately at Y/N's side. "Are you alright?" He asked; concerned eyes scanning her body as he crouched down beside her; wrapping his arms around her body. The young police officer nodded; still a bit trembling. Magnus didn't hesitate; lifted her up and carried her back towards the car, bridal style.

After sitting her in the passenger seat and getting a blanket from the trunk to wrap around her; he started the engine and pulled the car back on the road.

No one said a single word on the entire ride. Magnus was still trying to process what happened and Y/N was still way too shocked and shaken. Instead of driving back to the police station, took Magnus Y/N to his home, where he guided her up the stairs and sat her gently down on the sofa; blanket still wrapped around her. Minutes later, she had a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

"Thank you," the young woman mumbled quietly. "Of course," Magnus reassured her and sat down beside her. "Do you feel better?" She nodded; taking a small sip from the tea. Once more they sat in silence, until Y/N finally had the bravery to ask the question which was ghosting through her head already the whole car ride. "Why did you do that?"

The curly haired man's eyes snapped up to meet Y/N's. He swallowed hard; nervously rubbing his palms together.

"Because I had to."

She shook her head. "No... You didn't. You were acting headless. Something you never did before..."

He wanted to scream. Again. The realisation which had dawned on him after he went to save her was like a punch into the guts. Deep down he knew it, but nevertheless didn't see it coming.

"Well... Perhaps this is just what people do when they're in love."

"W-What?" Y/N blinked; visibly didn't see that coming. "I-In love? A-Are you trying to say that-"

"I've fallen in love with you, yes."

Silence.

"I-I don't know what to say, I..." Magnus gave her a gentle smile, despite that he felt like dying inside. "You don't have to say anything, Y/N." He knew that his feelings weren't reciprocated. Why should they? What would Y/N want with a man who was almost ten years older than her? "You wanted an honest explanation. I gave you one and that was it. This is an issue I have to deal with, not y-" The detective got interrupted and literally overwhelmed that her lips were suddenly on his; massaging them gently and encouraging him to kiss back.

It felt surreal. Like a dream - but he couldn't help himself but to give in and melt into the kiss.

"So... Does that mean my feelings are reciprocated?" He panted against her lips; smiling. Y/N scoffed playfully. "Didn't I make that very clear?" Magnus shook his head. "No, no, I think you need to give me a few more evidences." She smirked.

"Gladly."

Translation:

Släpp kniven! - Drop the knife!

Tänk inte ens tanken! Händerna bakom huvudet, nu! - Don't even think about it! Hands behind your head, now!

Och du ska släppa kniven och låta henne gå! - And you are going to drop that knife and let her go!

Varför ska vi låta henne gå? - Why should we let her go, huh?

Låt henne gå så låter jag dig gå. - Let her go and I'll let you go.

Låt henne nu gå. - Now let her go.

#magnus martinsson x reader #magnus martinsson #wallander fanfiction #wallander #wallander fanfic #magnus martinsson x you #magnus martinsson x y/n #magnus martinsson fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston characters

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freesia-writes · 1 month

Text

Hunter Fic Sneak Peek #4

(author's note -- this is about as raunchy as it'll get; keeping the whole thing PG-13)

She pushed him until his back was flush against the wall, head spinning and heart racing. Her hands were heavy on his chest, his neck, his cheeks... She cupped his face with fervent desire, gazing affectionately into his eyes before closing her own, tilting her head, and pressing her lips to his.

Her hands began to roam again, stroking and caressing, pulling feelings and yearnings and urges from him that had been dormant as long as he could remember. An initial resistance welled up, adding to the constant confusion, but it was soon diminished beneath her passion as she kissed him again and again.

Heat flushed Hunter's body from head to toe, and he opened up to her, his fingers gripping her waist as he leaned in. A feminine, breathy sigh escaped her as the intensity grew, their faces pressed together, lips caressing and tugging. She opened her mouth more, sliding her tongue against his, and tingles coursed through his veins as he met her fervor with his own, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and losing himself to the ardor growing in his core.

She ran a hand up the back of his neck, digging it into his hair and tightening her grip, pulling back for a moment to regard him with unbridled lust. "You are so kriffing hot, you know that? Damn, the things I want to do to you..." she murmured, heavy-lidded eyes following the contour of his face as he opened his eyes to meet hers, smoldering with intensity.

A small smile curved her cheeks, and she bit her lip before leaning in again, capturing his lips in her own with a more possessive tenacity that continued to awaken things throughout his entire body. He was reeling from the sheer overwhelm of it all -- her scent, her breath, her body, her sensuality, her uncomplicated want for him. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Freedom from responsibility, freedom to pursue a future of his own, freedom to release the burden of every possible consequence and to simply enjoy life on life's terms...

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, his muscles tensing against her touch and fanning the flame where her fingernails gently raked up toward his chest. Soft lips trailed to his jawbone, below his ear, down the side of his neck, setting him on fire inside and out. Hunter tilted his head away, feeling her consuming desire spreading through his own chest.

This was what he had wanted. This was the right choice.

Wasn't it?

Hunter Fic Tag List:

@lightwise @sweetcream-coldfoam @clonethirstingisreal @have-a-hiddles @sverdgeir @roam-rs @littlemissmanga @dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel @solstraalaa @skellymom @internm0thb0y @sunshinesdaydream @dyolferb3 @photogirl894 @jedi-hawkins @reader6898

Master List of Fic Goodies/Teasers and tag list sign up

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Requesting an urgent discussion with the SAS and my fellow Hiddle-whores: THE LIP-LICKING.

I present the following:

With honorable mention to the lip-bite (which actually might be my favourite):

And of course, this classic no-tongue-but-holy-fuck:

Well. This has been an excellent foray into the abyss, I must return to the world of the living. Have a lovely day y'all #sas

Now sometimes lip licking is a nerves thing, but I think Mr "everything I do is a calculated move to ruin you" Hiddleston uses it as a way to pause when he's winding up a sexually devastating sentence and the other person's talking. He's listening, but he's plotting something like fucking "propulsive momentum" 💀😂

Kind of like how some people say "ummmm" - yer man licks/bites his lip like a whore. And I appreciate that. And I appreciate you @superficialdomina for gracing us with this compilation. Can we find any more for the files I wonder...

Course we can 🤣Happy Saturday you lovely, wonderful goddesses ☺️❤️@mochie85 @coldnique @simplyholl @maple-seed @gigglingtigger @multifandom-worlds @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @wolfmoonmusic @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @holdmytesseract @lovelysizzlingbluebird @alexakeyloveloki @vbecker10 @lokiprompts @ladymischief11 @goblingirlsarah @marygoddessofmischief @kats72 @mon-hiddlestoneans @morriggannlostinfandoms @123forgottherest @lunarnights95 @cheekyscamp @holdmytesseract @littlespaceyelf @psychospore @liminalpebble @daggers-and-mischief @sarahscribbles @skymoonandstardust +++❤️☺️

#sas saturdays

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jobean12-blog · 2 years

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTd3KdRkR/?k=1 - this just seems right up your alley for a Bucky one shot 😍

Tidy Up, Giddy Up!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 384

Summary: You want to be sure your favorite seat is always clean and ready.

Author's Note: KATE! You knew I'd love this and of course you were right! I had so much fun with this little drabble because we all know that's my fave seat! Thank you so very much for sending this my way and thinking of me! Hope you enjoy and have a lovely day! Hugs! 💕Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics thank you lovely🥰

Warnings: fluff and sexy fun, implied smut (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

“Hey Buck?”

“Hmm doll?” he responds, his eyes still on his Astronomy book.

“How’s the book?” you inquire, while you try to play it cool.

“Love it so far. You know I love reading Neil deGrasse Tyson. These articles are so interesting.”

“That’s great. So happy you’re enjoying it!” you say, still rooted to the spot.

He finally looks up with a sideways smirk. “Did you need something doll face?”

You dangle a face wipe in front of his eyes and he pushes it away so he can see you again, raising his brows.

“What’s that for doll?”

“Can you wipe your face for me?” you ask sweetly.

He puts down his book and leans back, spreading his legs wide over the couch as he eyes you suspiciously.

“Why? Do I have brownie crumbs on it?”

His fingers reach up and he strokes them along his jaw, wiping away at whatever might be there.

“No. No brownie crumbs,” you tell him, smiling.

He takes the wipe and starts to rub it over his mouth and scruffy cheeks.

“Then what?” he muses, still wiping his face. “Did you leave lip prints again? I like those. Don’t wanna wipe ‘em off.”

You giggle.

“No baby, no lip prints either.”

When he’s done cleaning his face he balls up the cloth and throws it over your head straight and into the trash.

“Well then what?” he prods. “Is that good for your skin or somethin’?”

More giggling.

“I just wanted to clean my seat for later.”

His expression is blank for a second before his lips turn up, his tongue darting out to trace their outline.

“Well, it’s clean now doll.”

He sits up and grabs your waist, dragging you into his lap. In one deft move he slides your black hair tie off your wrist and starts to pull his hair away from his face.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, nibbling the soft flesh to stifle your moan of anticipation. He secures his hair in a small bun at the base of his neck and then wraps you in his arms.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs as he throws you over his shoulder. “Just make sure you don’t try to clean it afterwards. I love being able to smell you on my beard all day.”

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @goldylions @hiddles-and-skittles @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain @lookiamtrying @loki-laufeyson-1054 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @justile @seitmai @rebel-stardust

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #tik tok

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ladycamillewrites · 1 year

Text

Against the Odds

Chapter 12 - It's Showtime

a/n: So sorry for not uplaoding last week as Maddie and I ususally intended to🖤 My life was quite the mess and I was mourning a dear friend... please excuse the delay, friends :)

warnings: 18+ smuttish, talks of pregnancy, mean media/press, cussing, past trauma -response

masterlist

“What’s that cute pouty face about, my love?“ Tom asked, those entertained sparkly hues flashing in his sky blue eyes. Greek gods spoke through his accurate bone structure, the slightly tired look and gravel in his voice only making it worse for you to accept the storage compartment thing that separated your business class seats.

Coyly biting your lips, your gaze wandered from your lap to the window and back.

“Ohhh, I get it. My darling wants the window seat?“ Your boyfriend chuckled leaning over to press a warm kiss on your forehead before long, elegant legs hoisted his body up. Fast as lighting seats were swapped and a broad grin adorned your face as you took in Singapore airports many flickering lights.

It was late and your layover luckily not too long nevertheless, the thought of having 13 hours left to spent in this plane was tiring.

“Psst... Baby Hiddles?“

“Tommy, I somehow have the feeling they won't answer“ you giggled yawning, your elbow propped on the small curved crevice under the window to support your heavy head. Tom would never be mad at you for being a bit absent when almost five months pregnant with twins. Your body was practically working 24/7 to nourish and keep the little troublemakers safe.

“But the most beautiful woman on earth sure can“ he purred brushing your loose hair to he side, his hot, weirdly seductive breath tickling your earlobe. “I have to remark you were quite responsive last night, y/n“.

A hot, skittish shiver descended your spine, a familiar clench of thighs proved your muscle memory working. With delicious memories worth to revel in…

Hungry hands roamed across your back, strong thumbs gently massaging your muscles what provided heavenly relief. But Tom, of course, wasn’t only to do your back muscles a favor.

A wolfish grin appeared next to you, flashing in the corner of your eye like a flickering torch. “Darling, I cannot control myself any longer. I need to feel you. Please“ Tom’s baritone voice begged, the omnipresent respect he had for you showing in every part of his plea.

“Then have me, Thomas“

“Oh, you know exactly what happens when you’re calling me that, don’t you?“ He groaned, slowly letting his arched back sink down until all you felt were his flexing abs on top of your bare back, his promising erection poking the soft flesh of your butt cheeks.

Hell, you knew how much it turned him on so his full name slipped from your lust-drunken tongue once again. So easily. So natural.

“Fuck, Darling“ he cursed, gently but demandingly biting along your shoulder. Tom didn’t cuss often but when he did, it sounded so fucking sexy intertwining perfectly with the unique tone of his British accent. “Please just take me. Now“ you panted totally intoxicated by the obvious feeling of Tom’s soft knuckled brushing your rear again and again.

He was pleasuring himself.

“So responsive while I’m not even truly touching you, my love“ the low baritone chided you playfully, a mischievous smirk on lips audible in a salacious way.

You had awakened his darker side, the side he only showed you and only served your pleasure. His body and mind were yours completely while you gave in to him with every fibre of your quivering body.

It didn’t take long until the whole room was filled with passionate moans and staggered breaths, your bodies dancing with each other while the physical union existed in perfect parallelism with your connected minds. “I love you, baby. You’re perfect” Tom’s gravelly voice, husky from all the talking throughout the day.

“Fuck, Tommy. I- I have never been ha-happier” you murmured while the sweet haze of pleasure sent your nerves skyrocketing.

It felt perfect. He felt perfect, meant to be even. You couldn’t even count the times Tom made you touch a piece of heaven since he had arrived in Australia but hell, it was like a dream your fragile mind marinated in as long as it lasted.

Just the two of you. With people you both love and won’t judge. But after every dream there’s a harsh welcome to reality.

“Tom…” you murmured absent-mindedly, fingers drawing circles on the beige armrest. A sign of nervousness perhaps since going back to London automatically implied the premier coming closer and closer which in turn meant your hide and seek with the world and press was over. And with Nate.

An inevitable cascade of cataclysmic events.

The Brit shuffled in his seat, arm reaching out to hand you the glass of orange juice, a welcome drink 'pregnant woman' edition.

Tom’s champagne bubbled temptingly but the wellbeing of your children was your absolute number one priority. No alcohol for as long as needed. “Darling, what is going on in the beautiful mind of yours?“ He asked carefully, the smile dropping as you rejected the drink sighing.

“I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve asked my tailoress and she said 'it would be quite the challenge to hide those two' “ two fingers drawing quotation marks in the air while your heart ached and shifted.

“What if we showed them?“

“W-What?“

“Y/n, you and the Mini-Hiddles make me the luckiest man alive. And I would be a fool if I didn’t show the whole world what I won. What we’ve created“ he purred, a gentle hand caressing your thigh in slow strokes.

The same charming smile you once fell in love with in the film studio met your anxious eyes as you turned to face your boyfriend. If you would be staring enough, it might even melt your doubts.

“But what if they take it from us again, Tom? You’ve seen what they’re capable of and how little I could do against it“. Your gaze dropped from his steel blues, memories of the colorful headlines which spread about a month ago returned to terrorize your sanity.

God, they even brought you to leave the love of your life for literally nothing.

“Hey, look at me“ he coaxed your gaze back up until you were drowning in the beauty of his face again. “My love, no one will ever be able to destroy our bond, okay? Not the press and most of all not Thompson“ the hatred and sneer embedded in British accent clearly audible when your ex's name slipped form his lips.

However, without a warning your lips sealed, your boyfriend’s passionate tongue demanding entrance and showing you what you meant to him.

Everything.

“You are no one to be hidden, darling. I want to scream it to the world that you’re the woman to carry my heart“ he whispered as your mouths parted a few centimeters, hot breaths fanning against wet lips. A herd of vivid butterflies began their journey through your veins, spreading Tom’s intoxicating love in your system like a drug.

A big hand found your belly, more obvious as the twins grew, the warmth of his touch making one of them move. “Let’s show them what I did to you, hm?“ The sexual innuendo made both of your grin, your vocal cords summoning an enchanted giggle; testament to the effect Tom’s words had on you.

“I’ll think about it, okay?“ You murmured, nibbling on his lower lip, eager for another of his heavenly kisses that were capable to make you forget about anything. To forget didn’t mean to heal, you knew that damn well but let a woman relax for once.

An approving hum vibrated against your skin making your thighs clench so deliciously involuntary. A unique effect only the charming dad of your unborn little treasures had and all to willingly used against you.

“Love?“ Tom’s gravelly morning voice echoed across the big apartment after the Brit realized his gorgeous woman wasn’t laying curled up in his arms like usually.

“Kitchen“ you chirped back, a happy smile curling your lips when the smell of fresh pancakes infiltrated your nostrils. It was late spring in London, birds singing their gleeful melodies and rays of a newborn sun creeping through every window alongside a warm, flowery breeze.

The pair of maternity leggings you deemed the most comfortable sat snugly around your baby bump while one of Tom’s notorious blue sweaters hid your upper body. They were far too comfortable and smelled perfectly like home.

The last few days in your shared home was cozy and calm. Cuddles weren’t rare and the sweet nothings Tom constantly whispered in your ears warmed your heart to the hilt and caused a broad smile to constantly be glued on your face. “Strawberries or chocolate?“ You asked the two tiny beings in your belly who were more and more active. And occasionally tormenting.

“How about one for each Hiddles?“ Tom quipped playfully as he appeared next to you, a fuzzy, white bath robe hugging the athletic man. “Hmmm, quite the genius today“. Your boyfriend’s laughter rung soothingly in your ear, his arm snaking around your waist to lean your smaller body back against his.

“As if my hunger wasn’t already big enough to eat more than one“ you snickered placing Tom’s other hand on your belly to let him feel his moving offspring. “Fear not, little wonders. Granny is surely already preparing for a lavish dinner tonight“ he murmured, ocean blue orbs oozing pure devotion as he eyed your bump.

“Tom! I feel fat when you’re doing that. Stop“ you exclaimed with a traitorous smile on your lips. Oh, you always dreamt of becoming a mom and the journey was just as special as the real adventure yet to await you so you cherished every single day of pregnancy.

Even if some were nerve-wrecking and really exhausting.

A chiding eyebrow was raised at your comment, cute wrinkles forming on your man’s forehead as he looked you in the eye. “Nope“ he sad popping the p. “I won’t ever get tired of the sight of my gorgeous girlfriend. Especially now“ hot breath met your skin alongside his slightly suggestive comment, eliciting an adorable trail of goosebumps down your neck.

Careful teeth began nibbling at your shoulder as you flipped the pancakes, placing tiny pieces of chocolate on top to melt. “Thomas“ you panted feeling the familiar heat built between your legs before your consciousness stepped in to avert a make out session in between a hot stovetop and not yet put away, freshly washed up knives.

The twins made you so much more cautious. However, it truly was for the better.

“Can- outch! Can you watch them for a sec? Your kids are playing baseball with my bladder“. Hasty steps rushed towards the bathroom, Tom’s amused laughter echoing from behind. Cheeky little shit.

Scrolling through instagram in the quick moment of privacy you found an article about… you and Tom.

Of course, your shaky fingers clicked on it to find out what kind of misery you were accused of now. Secretly, you didn’t even want to know but nevertheless, it was important for your own pr and most of all Tom’s reputation you started to care about even more than your own.

A snapshot of you and Tom arriving at London Heathrow in the early morning sprung at you, the thin beige coat luckily hiding your front completely so no baby alarm. “At least“ you murmured to yourself before scrolling down to see whatever headline this spontaneous spot at the airport might’ve caused.

Not gonna lie, your were nervous but the confidence Tom’s honest and supporting love planted in your mind grew stronger with every day in his arms.

Perhaps it was ready to fight- or show?

<<Tom Hiddleston and girlfriend y/n Hemsworth happy after love vacation>>

You had to blink twice before realization set in.

Desperately, you searched for the cheeky innuendo or harsh undertone but there were none. Not a single thing sounded bad about this.

Subconsciously, your mouth began to smile as you made a fateful decision. One that you hopefully wouldn’t regret and also finally silence Nate fucking Thompson forever.

Swatching tabs on your phone, you opened WhatsApp, the chat with your personal stylist of Prada lurking on top of the list. A determined sigh escaped your parted lips as skillful fingers began to type.

A surprise for Tom and the whole damn world.

Hey, Clarisse. I’ve decided on the silver dress. Fitting on Friday sounds fine with me xx

“Darling, the pancakes are getting cold“

“Coming!“

“Oh god, y/n!“ Diana exclaimed inviting you in her opened arms after Tom helped you out of the thin jacket.

His mom was such a heartwarming personality, always super friendly and now totally obsessed with the thought of becoming a grandma. Twice.

“You’re glowing, darling! Pregnancy suits you“ she nearly sobbed, both hands on your shoulders and glassy eyes bathing in the sight of your belly. “I missed you, Diana“ you smiled warmly before the woman beckoned you in the dining room where her wooden table was already richly set, delicious scents coaxing you closer.

“That smells heavenly“ you mused with eyes closed feeling the appetite growing as if the babies had taken a cute little sniff as well. “Thank you, my dear. I am hosting a family dinner for four now after all“ the friendly lady chuckled, satisfied with the outcome of a whole day of stressful cooking.

The urge to qualify as the perfect grandma-to-be was mighty.

“Mom, what is that?“ Tom poked her amusedly, arms spread and gesturing towards the about four different meals she had prepared for your visit. A braised chicken alongside a bowl of steaming vegetables, Yorkshire Puddings, a Shepherd’s Pie, kidney pie and her notorious roasted tomato soup adorned the table.

Delicious treats everywhere you looked.

“Thomas William Hiddleston“ you huffed, hands on your hips and nose scrunched from his rushed comment.

However, Diana simply began to grin and giggle like a child as Tom’s puzzled gaze met yours, an apology quickly following before he put a chair in place for you to sit down. “I see…“ Diana snickered, a laughter layered in her voice as she leaned over to you. “Someone has properly replaced me“.

“Mom, please?“ Tom pouted cocking his head before the two most important women in his life bursted out in laughter. But as long as you were happy, his heart was as well.

“I am so happy for you, Tom. So proud of the life you’ve built“ she eventually smiled, patting her sons back as she weaved past behind him. Tom’s little smirk was beaming with satisfaction and love. The twins would have a wonderful family to spend time with, be it in Australia, be it here.

How could you have ever wished for something else?

This was the life you always wanted. Those were the people you wished to be around every day and you were ready to fight for it. To expose yourself and proof all those idiots wrong, dazzling them with the perfection of your new life.

“What do you mean you’re sick?” you nearly hollered in the phone, Irene, your personal hair stylist startled to the core.

“Sorry Arielle but I’m defo stuck in the hotel. I’m feeling like shit” Chris tried to excuse himself after announcing he won’t be attending the premier as originally intended. A cold shiver ran down your spine, fresh fear coming straight from hell.

Your brother promised to be around to provide some emotional support after the the press escapades two months ago. The newfound confidence was thriving within you however, the thought of facing the world like that again still frightened you.

“But- but -but”.

“Shhh, sis. You got his. With or without me” he tried to calm you down, hot tears banging on your eyelids threatening to run free. But you knew there was no going back now. Ridiculous four hours were separating you from the relentless cameras and awkward interviews so there was no time for a mental breakdown even if you felt so powerless again.

Harsh coughs resounded from you phone, proving your brothers sudden indisposition. It wasn’t his fault, absolutely not but nevertheless, you were far from happy about the news. “My fingers are crossed for you. Tom will take good care of you, I’m sure” Chris voice dripped with this apologetic tone before you finally allowed him to say goodbye.

“I can’t. I can’t do that” you muttered, your foot beginning to tap on the floor in a nervous, staccato fueled by all the messages of people wishing you good luck for tonight.

Chris won’t be coming, you repeated mentally what did absolutely nothing to enhance your quite awful situation. The tight silver dress was pompously lurking in the clothes bag and reminded you of the fateful decision you had made so imprudently while peeing this one damn morning.

Well, shoot.

“Y/n, you will look stunning” Irene smiled coyly, her skilled hands fixing strand after strand in an elaborate updo. “I know, thanks to you. But that’s not it… They hate my persona rather than my looks”. She sighed as heavy tears started to roll down your reddened cheeks, small sobs filling the dressing room.

You weren’t aware of the nearing strides of your boyfriend whose smile dropped immediately when he laid eyes on your sad face. “Darling? What is wrong?” Tom tried to get a piece of your mind, squatting down to match your eye level with this steel blues. Normally they would remind you of the waves stacking at Aussie shores; your second home.

“I- it’s all fucked up” you whined throwing your hands up in despair, lucky to not have accidentally hit Irene. “What’s fucked up, love? I thought you were quite confident about the event?” the handsome Brit asked, his stubble of a beard gone along with the deserted James Conrad look and fresh aftershave radiating from his flawless skin.

He smelled so good, so alluring.

No, no. Now wasn’t the time to let yourself get carried away by those pregnancy hormones.

“Chris is sick”.

“Oh god… I didn’t know, darling. I’m so sorry” his soothing baritone met your eardrums, bare arms wrapping around your body to pull you in a tight hug. It felt like a relief to feel the pressure of him surrounding you, grounding your overstimulated, anxious mind as if by magic.

This man was a healing balm to any prick or itch that was burdening your soul.

Breaths slowed down again, your hands starting to shake less as your pulse sunk in normal dimensions. “Don’t be. But- but I really don’t know if I can handle it” your voice was a feeble sound, the whimper of a skittish animal.

But that’s what happens after months of being terrorized by Nate and gaining 'special' reputation through boulevard papers…

“Haven’t you seen the post about the paparazzi shot at the airport? No bad blood this time, love” Tom began parting from your body to rest his forehead against yours, almond eyes staring directly in yours leaving you not a single inch to hide your emotions.

“And do know you why?” The rhetorical question hung heavy in the air as a last tear ran down your cheek to pool at the seam of your top.

“Because you looked genuinely happy. There was no grain of reluctancy in your gorgeous eyes, not a single sign of insecurity. Just the joyful, honest version of yourself and it amazed the people” he continued with this kind of gravel in his lower voice that had you on your knees if not sitting. A gentle thumb drew lavish circles on your neck while those spells of eyes captivated you.

Perhaps he was right. But your decision had been made nonetheless. A decision Tom didn’t know about just yet. His most recent information was that you would be wearing a wide gown to cover the bump. “Surprise“ you eventually murmured, still unsure whether to feel positive about it again.

Not being able to turn your head due to Irene working her magic you just awkwardly pointed at the dress, wordlessly trying to make Tom understand what it meant.

“You- are you sure?“ He murmured, eyes still staring at the skin tight gown with its flamboyant train. It would accentuate your baby bump perfectly, no, it would just magically draw all the rapt attention like an alien, hiding nothing. You took in every exited twitch of Tom’s chiseled features and the small shadows Irene’s styling lamp casted beneath those razor sharp cheekbones.

An approving hum left your lips after you prevailed over your demons, starting to feel comfortable again as your boyfriend’s ocean blue ors sparkled with joyful anticipation. He was ready to present you to the world and so were you; finally having made peace with your past and stronger than ever.

Gosh, maybe those hormones were really doing you dirty but Tom had always have a massive effect on your mood and the time he spent with you was like an intense therapy to your once shattered heart. The love you were harboring for him served as romantic testament.

“I love you, Tommy“. “God, darling. You have no idea how much you mean to me“ The handsome man smiled peppering two kisses on each side of your cheeks, the salty residue of tears making him lick his lips. This rosy tongue flicking and swirling so freely, silently propelling your thoughts in improper directions.

Tempting idiot.

“Y/n!! Tom!! Look here“ the cameras capturing you as soon as the director had finished his little speech and cleared the red carpet for the first appearance of ‘The Moralizer’s biggest stars.

Of course, you and Tom were to step out first as actors of the two leading roles and in a poor fragment of a second you became the centre of attentions, photographers’s pointers pushing the buttons of cameras relentlessly and eager interviewers’ eyes widening at your prominent bump.

“You’re doing amazing, love. Show them how perfect our life is“ Tom whispered in your, his trademark charm suiting his godly bone structure so flawlessly. This man was a statuesque Adonis wearing a tailor-made black suit with a light blue dress shirt that matched the blueish undertone in the glitter of your dress.

Intoxicated by the feeling to enjoy this flurry of photographer’s flashlights and the exited yells and screams of fans who were lucky enough to get a ticket for the premiere, you began to marinate in your own position. On his side

Turning to your boyfriend and smiling so blissfully, you leaned over to welcome a gentle kiss on your dark red lips.

People were going crazy, the lighting like experience intensifying until you parted again smiling at each other with nothing but content love. It felt good, natural even as you reminded yourself of Tom’s words to be proud, swankily happy about your life even.

And it worked. At least for now your magic was transmitted.

You somehow stopped caring about whatever hate Nate might spread after this. Your life was about to really get started now and a career on the world’s big screens knocked at your door hence this poor excuse of a man could screw himself.

After a few minutes of posing and showing off your baby bump that was so perfectly highlighted by the silver, glittery Prada piece, Jeff Goldbloom and your other co-stars were making their appearance. Time for you to step forward, indulging in the interviews.

The part you feared even more but Tom’s right grip around your waist sprinkled ease on your face.

“Oh my god! You two look absolutely stunning tonight“ the young lady noted, the camera capturing the three of you from the opposite site. “Thank you“ Tom smiled nodding respectfully what made the woman blush in record time.

Such a handsome boyfriend you had. And he was all yours jealousy whispered in your ear.

“And what a surprise, you two!?“ She continued pointing at your bump, your hands curling around the twins home. Protectively yet proud. Now, it was time to deliver a package to your ex. A juicy package everyone would understand and a last ever wave with a white handkerchief towards his sinking ship.

“Indeed“ you chuckled, taking the mic the exited, friendly lady was handing you, keen on getting more information. “I guess I just found my perfect match and well, love happens“. Greedy eyes widened, the journalist sucking in every word before Tom took over, his seductive voice layered with the undeniable anticipation to become a dad he carried since day one.

“We are happier than ever and this pregnancy is just the greatest gift I ever received. Along this wonderful woman, of course“ he winked in the camera grinning, before pulling you closer against his body. “That is wonderful news! Congratulations!“ The Lady exclaimed, her voice ascending in higher pitches from sheer excitement of being the first to have some details and statements regarding your pregnancy.

“What do you think would Nate Thompson say?“ She suddenly asked, nudging your happiness and resolutions dangerously close to this familiar, cold edge of worries and a macabre hide and seek game. The mic was handed to you once again however, this time your hand was hesitant, shaking for a moment as you struggled to find back.

But Tom was there for you, exactly like he promised.

A soothing arm wrapped around your back, his pointer carefully stroking the side of your arm. Breathing for a second you could feel his energy surging trough your nervous veins, calming them down like benzodiazepines. But good ones, keeping your consciousness sharp and your wit ready.

“You know-“ you began calmer than ever, almost bored of hearing his name “I really stopped caring about his opinion on how I live my life long time ago. Tom is giving me so much more than I ever dreamt of and I hope Nate’s new girlfriend does the same. I wish him all the best but I definitely won’t be looking back anymore“.

“Sounds like a fair clean break“ the woman turned back to the camera gesturing towards you. “Thank you so much for the quick talk, Tom Hiddleston and y/n Hemsworth. Now enjoy your new movie 'The Moralizer' which is now playing in cinemas all around the world“ she ended the interview before Tom dragged you along to meet the small exclusive line of fans who were all holding out phones, movie posters and pens eagerly waiting for you.

“You are a hell of a woman, did you know that?“ Tom whispered with the most charming smile on his velvet lips, the compliment on your statement dripping like sweet honey from his tongue. Earning a subtle wink and a filthy promise for what would happen after the event, the Brit drowned in your beauty now that you found your confidence again shining even brighter.

Like all the glittering stars in a perfectly clear night sky.

“Tom, Y/n!! A photo please!!“ The fans cried out in sheer excitement as you finally devoted yourselves to the crowd behind the hip-high safety wall.

Together.

“Nothing?“

“Nope. Not a single comment“ you chirped after checking the tabloids for any reactions of Nate.

But there were none. You had silenced him once and for all. “God, I am so proud of you, darling. Come and get yourself some cuddles“ Tom cooed wriggling fingers nearing your waist as he threatened you with a tickle attack.

The screen of you phone stayed bright for a little longer while your gleeful laughter resonated form all four walls of your bedroom, your body writhing and quivering under Tom’s greedy but loving hands. The scent of the exact same pasta he had made when you visited for the first time crept through the door slits.

All alone and abandoned the bright pink headlines of some of the most influential tabloids presented themselves on the screen of your phone sliding down the mattress…

< Hollywood’s hottest couple expecting their first child - father-to-be Tom Hiddleston “couldn’t be happier“ >

< Y/n Hemsworth pregnant - 'The Moralizer' premiere taking a lovely turn >

thank you for reading and get ready for the epilogue following next Saturday on @holdmytesseract 's blog :)

tags: Tagging: @crimson25 @kikster606 @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @lovingchoices14 @ozymdias @vbecker10 @coldnique @lokixryss @simplyholl @peaches1958 @lokidbadguy @jennyggggrrr @stephenstrangeaddictions @holymultiplefandomsbatman @mischief2sarawr @mypsychoticlove @mochie85 @muddyorbs @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @simping-for-marvel @lady-rose-moon @goblingirlsarah @kats72 @vickie5446 @buffyfan2833 @12-pm-510 @ladymischief11 @somewiseguy @woooonau @cabingrlandrandomcrap @alchemxx @honeyrydernot @evelyn-rathmore @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mossiswriting @evelyn-kingsley

#against the odds #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #y/n hemsworth #Hiddleston fic #Hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x y/n

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villainousshakespeare · 2 years

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Therapy Fit for a God Chapter 11

Loki/OFC Rated M (may go up to E in future chapters) Trigger Warnings: Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @ghostypau @ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @mareebird @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @szycha22 @chokemedaddyloki @queenofallhobos @just-the-hiddles-reads @alwida10 @justjoanne242 @chantsdemarins @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Loki paced the confines of his bedroom, feeling as though he were back in his cell at the SHEILD facility. It was a more comfortable prison certainly, but he was no less trapped.

Which was completely absurd, considering that no mystical chains bound him. No lock kept him leaving his prison. No soldiers with advanced weaponry guarded him, ready to kill him upon the merest provocation. No, the sole thing keeping him penned in - in his own home! - was one very determined mortal woman, armed with nothing more than fierce determination and a demanding tongue.

He must be still suffering aftereffects of the Mind Stone, Loki decided. That was the only reason he could think of for why he had let Caroline order him around like she had.

She had met him at the tavern with a smile of satisfaction and a sled laden with packages. She had dismissed the idea of supper at the establishment, which Loki had thought an amazingly generous offer of him, considering they were fugitives from Earth's most well-equipped military force. After having a quick drink for the road, she had marched them out to trek back to the cabin. She had refused to either allow him to whisk away her purchases or even pull the overloaded sled, insisting that she was more than capable, thank you very much, and did not want him snooping through her bags.

Once back home, Loki had assumed that the ordeal of secrecy was over. Oh, had he been wrong! Caroline had peremptorily pointed towards the bedroom.

"Oh, are we retiring early," he had leered, trying to at least regain some sort of upper hand.

He didn't know why he bothered. He should have realized by now that the tactics that worked so well on every other human he encountered were of no good whatsoever used upon Caroline. She had rolled her eyes, pursed her lips, and insisted he stop trying to flirt at once. Really, for someone who purported to be interested in his self-esteem, the confounded woman did more than anyone he could think of to wound it!

"And just what do you expect me to do in there? Alone?" he had demanded, glaring at her.

"I don't know," she had retorted, glaring right back. "Perhaps you could find some way to unwind. You seem a little tense."

"And do you have any idea just how long I am in this enforced exile?" he could ignore suggestion every bit as well as she!

"I have quite a bit of work to do. I would say at least a few hours. You might try to get some rest, our event begins around midnight, if I have planned things right.

"Midnight! That is hours from now!"

"It will be later if I don't get started. The bedroom!"

Loki, much to his shock and dismay, had grumblingly walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. That had been hours ago! In the interim, he had heard all kinds of distressing noises. Loud banging, items being moved about, and on multiple occasions Caroline using language he would not have thought her capable of. Even Thor might have blanched at some of her more creative phrases. He had a sharp impulse to go to her aid, but he knew that he would not be greeted with the gratitude such an act should demand, and so he stayed in his room and sulked.

Eventually, as the moon rose and he became more agitated, Loki could smell a curious mixture of wood smoke and cooked meat. Oddly, it seemed to be coming not from under the door, but through the window. He had heard the kitchen door open and shut numerous times and wondered what in all the realms the mad woman could be doing. For a being who had lived for more than a century, Loki could not understand how a few measly hours could seem such an eternity.

Finally, when he was beginning to think that the Other's torture had been nothing in comparison to Carolines, a light tap on the door sounded tentatively.

"Enter," he all but yelled, ready to wrench the door open himself but determined to maintain some shred of his dignity.

Caroline opened the door with a face covered in a mixture of apprehension and excitement. She was wearing the large parka and a hat topped with a pompom and looked absolutely delightful.

"Okay, I think everything is ready," she told him, nervously shifting her weight from one foot onto the other. "Keep in mind that I only had so much to work with. I had to make substitutions, and in some cases I was only able to take a wild stab at what I thought would be right."

"Caroline, love," Loki made his voice very calm and very pleasant. "If you don't get out of the way and show me what you have done to my home, I will turn you into a bilgerat."

"I don't know what that is, but somehow I don't think I would like it," she said with a quirk of a smile.

"You would not," he agreed, taking a large step towards the door.

"Okay," she repeated, stepping aside so that he could exit, "but it's not inside your home. You have to come out back with me."

"More snowmen?" he asked, magicking on a coat and struggling to keep himself from running. "Do we now have a frozen army surrounding us?"

"Um, in a manner of speaking," she laughed nervously.

Loki shot her a look and made a bee line for the door. What had the girl done now?

Whatever he had been imagining, it was not what greeted his eyes. A large campfire had been built in the back yard, utilizing firewood from inside. A number of branches had been erected to form a frame from which hung a large kettle. The aroma that had seeped into his bedroom seemed to come from that, and he realized that he was ravenously hungry.

The cook fire was just the beginning of the site that met him, however. Three big fur pelts were laid out around the fire, and cups and bowls laid upon two of them. On the third was some sort of projector, throwing an image in his direction. Turning, Loki saw a picture was being thrown up onto the side of the cabin. Blues, silvers, purples, all in various hues and shadings, formed a kaleidoscope of stunning beauty. There was an intricate pattern to the design, and his eye could almost catch out a deeper symbolism in the way the colors danced with each other.

Caroline pulled some sort of remote from her pocket and pressed a button on it, and a wall of music filled the night. The voices were low, below basso even, and melded together to suggest something deep and primal. It was a perfect counterpoint he realized to the light, outward searching pattern on the wall.

"What have you done?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Mal tvir sign Konungr," her attempt at the old tongue was garbled, but endearingly so. "Welcome to your feast, Prince Loki."

Loki stared at her in confused disbelief. What was this? His confusion must have shown on his face, for Caroline took his hand and led him down to the furs. She sat on one, and then gestured impatiently for him to take the other.

"Caroline, what is all of this?" he asked carefully, not wanting to offend her when she had obviously gone to a huge amount of effort.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"I can hardly tell. The design on the cabin is breathtaking," he grasped at the first thing to truly take his breath away.

"That was what took most of my time today," she told him. "It would have been much easier with the internet. I took a photograph of the design, and then had the man in the art store turn it into a slide. There are a few others, but this was my favorite."

"It is beautiful," he agreed.

"I'm glad you like it, because getting it made so quickly was not cheap," she laughed. "Still, I wasn't sure when you would agree to go back, so I wanted it done today. I can be quite persuasive when I choose to be."

"I've noticed. There is an almost crystalline symmetry to it, while the colors also manage to evoke movement."

"It was originally painted onto snow, which accounts for some of the crystal pattern you are seeing," she sounded pleased.

"And the music?"

Caroline pulled a face and looked a bit guilty.

"There I had to use complete conjecture. This is a tape of monks chanting, throat singing they call it. Imagine voices like these, low and sonorous, but echoing off the walls of caves and underground lakes."

Loki could imagine it. The sound would be even deeper and more mysterious. He wished that he could hear it, but the song that Caroline had provided was itself somehow profound. He glanced over, still confused, and saw that she was taking a long pull from her cup. Following her lead, he lifted his own glass and took a swallow. The drink was fruity, but not overly sweet. Some sort of liquor gave it a fortifying base that sent a warmth through his body.

"Delicious."

"Another approximation on my part," she admitted. "But I think I have it about right, at least from my understanding of what I read."

"What you read where?" he was truly baffled.

"In the book you suggested."

"What book? I don't remember giving you something to read."

"When we were discussing Jotuns the other night. You suggested I read about them, so I did. The book on alien species was remarkably informative. This, everything around you, is based on a traditional Jotun victory feast."

Loki stared at her, a myriad of emotions vying for prominence within him. His first, bitter instinct was to reject it all instantly and storm inside in anger. He could feel himself begin to rise, and only barely managed restrain the impulse. It was the look on Caroline's face, hopeful and afraid at once, that kept him seated.

"Explain," he said as calmly as he could.

"The picture that you like so much, it was done by a Jotun artist named Alvtra. She was an artist of some renowned about five hundred years ago. She used dyes from the berries that grown underground in their mountain caves to stain the hard packed snow that covers the cliff sides. This one, I believe, represents ascension into the heavens after death. There were quite a few examples of her work, but as I said this was my favorite."

"A Frost Giant made this?" he asked, trying to get his mind around it.

"It is only one of their art forms, if the most celebrated. They also weave beautiful tapestries from the wool of some animal that roams Jotunheimen. I didn't quite have time to replicate that. The singing is the Midgard equivalent of the chanting of their priests. They have extensive singing, both for rites and for entertainment. It is mostly them males that perform in gatherings, as lower voices are considered the pinnacle of the art, but females will sing amongst themselves, or to pass the time."

"They sing?" his brain seemed to be malfunctioning, as he could only manage the stupidest questions.

"They do. In fact, the book even mentioned that Jotun women sometimes have been known to choose a mate solely on his musical ability. Tell me Loki, do you sing?"

"From time to time," he answered honestly, barely catching the lame teasing she attempted. "Why Caroline? This must have taken hours of work. In fact, I know it did, I could hear you for most of it. Why did you do this?"

"I wanted you to see that, even if you are half or even all Frost Giant, that doesn't have to be a bad thing. There is beauty in the Jotun world if you bother to look for it, just as there is in Asgard or Earth, or anywhere else. You don't have to let the prejudice of where you grew up blind you to that. I'm not saying that Frost Giants are all good, but nor are they all bad. They are what we all are - a messy mixture of the two."

"You did this for me?" he stared from the projection to the fire to the woman sitting on the opposite fur, looking tiny and vulnerable in her giant coat.

"I wanted you to see the beauty in your ancestry, so that you could see the beauty in yourself that I see."

Loki stared at her for a moment more, and then leaned forward and kissed her.

***

She could not remember ever being so nervous in her life. Whenever Caroline got an idea, it inevitably took over her brain until she had to act on it. When she read the information on Frost Giants, she had realized instantly that Loki would never have read it. If he had, it was probably because some pedantic teacher in his past had made them do so, only to scoff it off as Jotun propaganda.

She had dearly wanted to make him look deeper, to make him think beyond the slogans that had been fed to him as child and see what the other side might hold. Perhaps, if she could get him to see that the species were not mindless, soulless beasts, he might begin to see his own worth.

The pictures of the art on the snow cliff walls had been her first idea. She had hoped that she might have a reproduction made full size, or at least wall sized, that she might gift to Loki for his home. His resistance to internet had thwarted this idea, and though she had understood his caution, it had made things more difficult.

Putting on her problem-solving hat, she had come up with the idea of the projection. When she finally got Loki to provide her a list of stores, and amazingly there was an art shop included, she had gotten her first sense of victory.

The feast idea had come next. There had not been a ton to do since they had arrived wherever in remote Scandinavia Loki had absconded with her, but they had each managed to make a decent meal for each other. It was such fundamental welcoming part of every society that she knew of it just made sense that the Jotuns would have some version of it.

Going back to the book, she had found that they did indeed have a traditional feast that was described in some detail. After a successful hunt or battle, the Frost Giants would celebrate with a midnight feast held under the stars. She didn't know what the animal they ate actually tasted like, but in the picture, it looked remarkably like a moose. She had never cooked moose before, but the man in the butcher shop had been very helpful with suggestions for spices and vegetables to pair with it. The traditional drink had been more up her alley, mixing berries with a rich port like wine.

The final touch had been when she found the cd of the Tibetan throat singers at the counter in the artist's shop. There was nowhere in town that sold a cd player, but the art shop owner had seen the amount of money she had shelled out for the slides and helpfully offered to sell her his own old cd player for an exorbitant amount of money. Considering she had an actual prince footing the bill, she decided to go for it.

The work in setting it all up had been good, since it kept her too busy to think. She was terrified, once she succeeded in pestering Loki into taking her and then lugging it all back to the cabin again. Now that the challenge of all that was over, what if he hated it? What if sent him spiraling back into another suicidal downturn? Nothing in her professional training had prepared her for dealing with alien races, and she was going far beyond her usual methods of therapy.

Truth be told, she had long since stopped thinking Loki as a patient. He was so more than that to her, not that patients were unimportant. He had become a friend, a remarkably close friend in a shockingly short space of time. Caroline had always been a woman who trusted her instincts, and her instincts told her that Loki was someone she wanted, perhaps even needed in her life. He made her feel more alive than she had realized she could feel. She just wanted to give him some of that back.

And so, when he stepped out the back door and saw her handiwork, she had been filled with panic. What if he hated it? What if he sent her away? Back to SHIELD perhaps. She had no more than a vague idea of where they were, she could hardly lead his enemies here before he could jump to another location, perhaps one in another galaxy. If not that, he could just hop somewhere else himself, leaving her in the relative safety of their present location to fend for herself. He had made it clear that he did not want to discuss his Jotun heritage, and here she was rubbing his face in it.

His reaction to the art had been heartening. She tried to draw it out of him, wanting him to comit to appreciating it before telling him its origins. She thought that she was succeeding, he certainly seemed taken to it. The music was a bit less of a sure thing, but he also appeared to like the wine.

But eventually, the truth had to be told, otherwise what was the purpose to the whole endeavor? She saw him start to rise when she admitted the whole, and for a moment thought her worst fears were about to be realized. She had stepped too far, pushed him too hard too fast. When he had remained to question her further, she had known a moment of pure joy.

Or at least, she had thought that was joy. It certainly seemed so at the time. He was there still, what more could she possibly want? A question that was answered only moments later, when Loki leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She had imagined it countless times. How he would taste, if he would be playful or passionate. She had never imagined he would be tentative. A brief moment his lips met hers, and then he was pulling back, eyes full of uncertainty.

"I am sorry, Caroline," he said, worry clouding his velvet voice. "I did not mean to presume, to trespass. If you prefer, I can move to the other side of the fire."

Caroline's eyes widened at the deference in this God as he anxiously played with his hand. Emotion welled within her, almost too much to contain inside. Reaching out, as she had yearned to do so many times before, she curled her fingers into his long hair, darker than the sky above them, and brought his head back to hers.

This time the kiss held no hesitation. After a startled half beat, Loki gave a soft gasp and reached out to pull her into him. His tongue swiped across the seam of her lips, and she opened her mouth to him, letting out small mewling sound as he dipped within. As she kissed him back, following his lead by beginning to explore him with her own tongue, Caroline felt Loki lay her back, joining her to lie on the soft pelts she had bought at the supply store.

Her coat was open somehow, he must have worked the zipper while she was distracted with his kisses, and Loki's hand, large and strong, was mapping out her body, filling her with more than enough warmth to make up for the increased exposure. His kisses moved away from her mouth, causing her some disappointment, until she felt them trail down her neck and back up again, making her shiver with something other than cold.

"My darling, dearest Caroline," he whispered hoarsely in her ear. "I do not deserve you."

"You do," she said, shaking her head as much as she could while he nibbled at her neck. "Loki, you deserve so much."

"Say that I might have you, and I will be satisfied for now," he chuckled.

"You... you may," she panted out, feeling desire pool in her core. "I want you so much."

"Excellent," he smiled, kissing her lips once more deeply before sitting back up.

"Loki?" she asked uncertainly, terrified for a moment that this had all been some cruel form of revenge.

"Eat up, darling," he smiled at her with a wink, ladling some of the moose stew into her bowl. "You will be needing all of your strength soon."

"But..."

"Yes?"

"The food could wait," she suggested, reddening at her own desperation.

"Oh no, my dearest. Not when you went to so much trouble. Besides, you made me wait for quite some time this evening. I believe it is my turn."

Caroline made a choking sound as looked at his evil, mischievous grin.