#loki x you soulmate au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkacademicfrom2021 · 2 years

Text

“When the tropes break”

Pairing: Loki x medstudent!reader

Word count: 15 K (yes, you’ve read that correctly)

Tags (this is a mess): soulmate mark, soulmate color blindness, doctor!reader AU, coffee shop AU, avengers but they all live happily in the compound like in 2012 fics, "there's only one bed! :0", oblivious idiots, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, found family trope.

Warnings: medical issues, needles, there's angst at some point, injuries, blood, car crash, imposter syndrome, anxiety.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a fic that combined all of my favourite tropes together and also make the reader a medical student, so here we are!

“Look. I’m… not that kind of doctor”, tried to explain Dr. Banner, as you insisted on his door. He was wearing his pajamas, with a mug of what smelled like hot cocoa on one hand. You knew this was inappropriate —to say the least—, but you couldn't wait another second. Each time you tried to go to his office at the Avengers compound, you’d get kicked off without even having the chance to meet him.

“Please, Dr. Banner. I come from very far away, and my friend insists you’re the only one who can help me”, you tried, securing the door with your foot before he could even think of closing it before you.

Banner seemed to be thinking about it. Not yet convinced on whether giving you a chance or not —he was a busy Avenger, after all—, he asked:

“Who’s your friend?”.

“Peter Parker. He says he’s worked with you in Stark’s internship and he’s sure you…”, you began saying, but a familiar voice interrupted you from behind. You couldn’t see him, but you were sure you just heard Tony Stark chuckle from inside Banner’s house. You went dead quiet, and Banner sighed in frustration.

“Bruce, if the kid says this is worth it, it might be”, said Mr. Stark. Banner fully opened the door, to show Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff spread out on his couch, each with a mug of hot cocoa and wrapped up in cozy blankets. “Hi, dear”, he smiled at you.

You felt your insides turn upside down. Confusion, at first, for seeing the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes on their pajamas, on what looked like a slumber party at three in the morning, in Dr. Banner’s living room. After the initial shock, you were struck with a huge amount of embarrassment, chilling out of fear of what they might be thinking of you. Like a bucket of ice cold water just fell on your back and you looked like you wet your pants in front of them. But they didn’t seem to be upset at your presence, or annoyed. Natasha Romanoff was surely drifting off, and Tony Stark seemed interested in your need for help —a need so desperate that you had to knock on Banner’s door at three in the morning. Truth be told, he was in for the drama.

Banner opened the door for you and gestured to you to sit on the couch by their side. You were still stiff, nervous, and stood near them while picking at your palm and wishing to not be sweating so much —they could probably sense it.

Stark stared at you in confusion, not entirely sure why you weren’t speaking yet. Banner, who seemed more accustomed to the feeling of anxiety over “celebrities”, offered you something to drink, and you accepted it kindly.

“So”, finally said Stark, watching you chug on a glass of water, “how do you know the kid? You seem older than him”.

“Slightly older”, you nodded. “He goes to science courses from my college. We ended up being friends”.

“What are you studying?”.

“Medicine. He goes to physiology classes, and asks really weird questions about genetics…”, you recalled, and soon corrected yourself, “but, of course, it’s irrelevant. I… I appreciate you letting me in. I went over five times to the compound in the past week and…”.

“You said you had a weird thing on your skin”, interrupted Banner. “Why me? You want to be a doctor, I’m sure you know plenty of them, and good. And you know I’m a biochemist and physicist. I don’t look at rashes”.

“It’s not a rash… it’s hard to explain”.

“Then show”, proposed Stark, and Banner blushed.

“No, you can’t do that. Don’t lift your shirt, I can’t attend you, much less here. Give me a description. You seem smart. Why me? Why us?”.

You sighed, fidgeting with the empty glass on your hands. You tried to recall the first thing that happened since that weird drawing appeared on you. It came with a terrible side effect, that had gotten you in a lot of trouble for the past week. No doctors would believe you, telling you you’ve gotten a tattoo while drunk. You didn’t.

“It’s a drawing, like a tattoo, but it isn’t. It appeared out of nowhere, literally. It grew on my skin from one day to another. I woke up with this strange mark on my collarbone, and next thing I heard was a loud, loud… ringing. Like bells being smashed against my eardrums. It hurt so badly. I opened my eyes again, after it happened, and… I lost color vision”.

“You… lost color vision?”, said Banner, frowning. “Like daltonism?”.

“No, like monochromatic vision. Achromatopsia, to be precise. I see everything in black, white and gray”.

“That’s so weird. Maybe a nerve issue?”, asked Stark, hyped up. He seemed to be getting involved, interesting in the case.

“I’ve done every test I thought possible. Nothing else happened, just a weird mark, a big headache with the loud noise and the loss of color vision”.

“Have you checked for mononucleosis?”.

“It’s not”.

“Aseptic meningitis?”.

“Nope”.

“Too much caffeine? It can happen”.

“Can it?”, asked Stark, a little bit freaked out.

“Not enough to cause this, no”, you kept answering.

“Sinusitis? Postconcussive syndrome? A stroke, even? Lupus?”.

“Haven’t you watched Dr. House, Bruce? It’s never lupus”, interrupted Stark once again. You chuckled, and finally gave in, sitting on the chair in front of them.

“It’s none of those things. I checked out for almost everything, even things not related. I tried to do a biopsy, but the flesh wouldn’t give in, as if it’s sealed on my skin. My pressure was fine, I’ve never had any health issues before, I never even needed to wear glasses”.

“Did this… loud ringing come again?”.

“No. And nothing hurt back. It’s like it just happened for my eyes to drop color”.

“I have a theory”, said Natasha, who apparently was awake. Stark and Banner nodded to let her talk. “Someone pulled a prank on you in your dorm and tattooed your body while sleeping. By some huge coincidence in the world, your retina just decided to give up on life and, boom, no more colors for you. It can happen, I once read a book about a painter that stopped seeing colors out of nowhere. Ruined his life completely. Couldn’t eat tomatoes because they seemed so weird”.

“I’ve read that book. Oliver Sacks, right? The neurologist. So cool. I think it was a concussion, though”, chuckled Banner. You rolled your eyes.

“Could you give it a chance and help me out on this? Please. I feel there’s something wrong about it. Something missing”.

Banner and Stark looked at each other. Stark seemed to be into the idea of investigating further. He always had a soft spot for the unfixable, the impossible, Peter would say. But you had a feeling this was something fixable. Maybe something you could understand at some point. What was that mark?

“You said your collarbone. That’s why you’re wearing a turtleneck? Is it that ugly?”, said Stark, and you pulled down your collar to show the mark. The bright drawing of a green snake, with its golden details implastered like the finest of the inks over your skin, showed just how precious that was to even resemble a tattoo. “Wow”, he swallowed.

“Well”, huffed Banner. “I stand corrected. That seems to be somehow relevant to us”, he said, eyeing Stark. “Doesn’t it remind you of someone?”.

“It does seem like one of his pranks, I guess… but, why?”, he frowned in confusion. You cleared your throat. “Oh, it’s nothing, dear. I don’t think our friend has anything to do with this. We’re gonna help you, though”.

“Your friend?”.

“Don’t ask. Tomorrow morning in our lab, is that okay? You can crash here, it’s too late for you to roam around the city”.

And so, next morning, you got admitted into the Avengers compound’s hospital room. You couldn’t even imagine the amount of things they had on that Tower, until you were soon surrounded by wires and pinched by dozens of needles, doing tests you’ve already done on yourself —just in case.

Three days in, and you could only trust yourself walking around the Tower in the middle of the night, when the lights were dead and you wouldn’t run up anyone. The days were hectic and filled with activities, and you could only give yourself permission to roam around when nobody else was there.

But little did you know, it was actually important that you could get your nightly steps, back then. Because they got your color vision back.

It was ridiculous, really. The moment it happened, you were too shocked to even talk. You didn’t actually remember much —you walked into the compound’s library, a place you haven’t visited before, and as soon as you saw a man sitting on the couch, long legs spread over it, you took a sharp breath in, almost scared at his unexpected sight.

As soon as he raised his eyes to meet yours, you heard a loud pitch again, and as everything became too bright for you to understand, your color vision came back to normal. You plummeted against the floor, too drunk on colors and noises to realize that the tall man had the exact same expressions on his face.

Equally surprised, he ran to you and helped you up. He was handsome. Very, very attractive, and you found yourself glad you could see colors again just to appreciate his deep and crystal eyes. You sank on that color palette of cold tones and warm stare for a while, until he walked you to the couch and helped you sit carefully.

“Are you alright?”, you asked him. “You seem pale”.

“I am always pale. Are you alright? You just fell”.

“Yeah”, you chuckled. I might have just fallen for you, you thought, and he blushed almost immediately, as if he could hear your thoughts. “I’m good. I’m Banner’s new experiment, and… well, I was…”, you muttered, unable to concentrate over his eyes on you. He was staring at you intensely, deeply, hearing word by word and taking in every bit of you, and that made you the most nervous you’ve been in your entire life.

“You’re the one that couldn’t see colors”, he stated.

“Yes, but… Somehow, now I do”.

“Yeah”, he smiled slightly, and dropped it quickly. He extended you a hand to shake and took in a sharp breath, as if composing himself. “I am Loki, of Asgard”.

“I am… wait, did you just say Asgard? Are you…?”, you asked, incredulous. He rolled his eyes and interrupted you.

“Yeah, yeah. Brother of Thor”.

“... the God of Mischief?”, you finished your sentence, and he stopped on his tracks.

“You know about me?”.

“I’ve read a lot about you”.

“The New York thing”, he seemed disappointed.

“At first, yeah. After that I got somehow fascinated with mythology. I’ve read all the tales. Are they true?”.

“I did not fuck a horse, if that’s what you’re asking”.

“No, that’s… well, that is sort of what I was asking”.

He chuckled, and you laughed too. When you threw your head back, his smile dropped to a concerned frown and observed your neck with attention. He extended a hand and moved your jaw without saying anything. You flinched and he didn’t register it, too caught up on observing your tattoo on investigation.

“This must be a joke”, he muttered. You straightened your back and he pulled his hand away. You shot him a glance, asking explanations, and he sighed out. “Let me guess. You love the medical sciences, and the color blue”.

“That’s… what? How did you…?”, but before you could finish, he got up and stormed out of the room with a “don’t even” hanging in the air.

The next morning, you found Loki on the breakfast table at six. You would normally go get your food at seven or eight, yet you knew he was there for the coffee early —his brother told you about it. So, you walked into the kitchen and began preparing two coffees. He soon grew nervous, as you thought he would, yet you didn’t go away. You placed a coffee cup in front of him and sat by his side, making direct eye contact. After a while of uncomfortable silence, he broke it.

“Now, what on the Norns do you think you’re doing?”, he asked with annoyance, his deep voice still hoarse.

“What did you do to me?”.

“What do you mean?”, he frowned.

“How did you give me my colors back?”.

He kept his mouth open, looking for the right words. He didn’t say anything, until you crossed your arms in annoyance, waiting for him to speak.

“I did nothing of the sort. And I’d recommend you don’t say you got them back as soon as you saw me, alright? Not in front of Thor, at least”.

“Why would I listen to you?”.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, it was a threat”.

“Are you threatening me?”.

“And are you not backing up from me?”.

“You seem more scared than frightening, to be honest”.

“Oh! I see you two have already met!”, chanted Thor, walking in and placing a hand on the nape of your neck and an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “Brother, you’ll like this one. But don’t like them too much, or else you'll ruin them”, he joked, and winked at you. You blushed and Loki rolled his eyes, sipping at the bitter coffee you made for him after eyeing it for a while. “Are you busy today with all of those experiments? I’d like to get some coffee with you, if that’s alright”, he asked.

Loki raised his eyebrows, incredulous.

“I’m gonna be free until noon, we could go out!”, you smiled, and Thor helped you up off your seat with a hand and a charming glance. Loki pretended to gag.

“Is my brother flirting with you?” he asked, bewildered. “Blink twice if you need rescue”.

“It’s all good, we’re going out as friends!”, you explained to Loki, but Loki knew better of his brother. “You see, unlike you, Thor has been really kind to me since day one. I’d like to repay him the kindness with some cool coffee shop visits. You’re more than welcome to join, though”.

“Gross. No”.

“Loki! Don’t be so rude to our new friend”, Thor scolded him, not too surprised at Loki's bitterness. You laughed and said it was okay.

“We still have to celebrate, though”, you said, looking him directly in the eyes with a smug smirk, like a cat about to throw a mug off the table. Loki opened his eyes widely and gestured to you to shut your mouth, but you continued, with a grin plastered on your face. “You see, yesterday I just saw colors again. One of the things we’re investigating dissipated, so we’re okay on that. I can now see your blonde hair in person”.

Thor stood in place, confused.

“You didn’t see colors before?”.

“No, they went away some time ago”.

Loki was red head to toes, hiding his face behind the cup, hoping Thor was dumb enough to let it pass. Thor looked at him expectantly.

“My brother lost his color vision too”.

“Oh”, you said, looking at Loki, even more confused than before. “Is that why you were so weird with me? Why didn’t you tell me?”.

“Tell me, when exactly did you get your colors back?”, asked Thor, interrupting you.

“Uh… last night. I was on the…”.

“...kitchen, right? You were making coffee. We’ve met before, earlier, in the library. You wanted to be kind and make me some coffee because I was tired. Then, you hit your head on the kitchen and the colors came back. I was nowhere near you when you found out about that”.

“Loki, that’s not at all what happened”, you scoffed.

“That’s exactly what happened”.

“Tell me this, did you get them when you saw my brother?”, asked Thor, ignoring Loki’s whines.

“Yes? Can anyone care to tell me what’s going on between you two with this? Do you know anything about it? Did Loki do something to me?”.

“BROTHER!!!”, yelled Thor in ecstasy, hugging Loki tightly and spinning him around. You stayed in place, amazed at the situation developing in front of you. “Don’t be an idiot, this is too great!!”.

“I don’t see the colors too, brother. There’s a misunderstanding”, said Loki, arranging the collar of his suit and scoffing in disbelief. “And I suggest you stop trying so hard to find them”.

“Them who?”, you asked.

“Loki’s…”.

“...patience. Get. Out. We’re not getting coffee and we’re definitely not talking, ever again”.

Loki ended the conversation, and you rolled your eyes —what was up with him? What was all that about? Thor sighed out in frustration, and told him to talk to him later on that day. Loki reluctantly nodded, saying that maybe sometimes his position of big brother could actually be of help. Help for what? You wouldn’t know.

Thor smiled at you and offered a hand for you to take.

“Well, then. If Loki is so sure this is a misunderstanding, I shall take you all for me. Are we still good to celebrate your colors coming back?”.

“Absolutely, King of Asgard. I know a good coffee place around the corner”.

Loki felt empty once you two left.

He knew he was making a mistake, but he also knew Thor wouldn’t betray him like that. Still, something inside of him stirred and pained at the idea of that beautiful midgardian being stolen away from him by his brother. Maybe you’d rather the brother that wasn’t your soulmate —he was more pleasant, that was for sure. Loki closed himself off in his room and sunk on a book for the entire day.

Life in the Tower was a bliss. Sure, there were many things you would have rather been doing —like getting your finals over with, or working on someone else in a lab, instead of your own body—, but you learnt a lot with Banner and Stark. They explained every single step they did, and you could still talk about nerdy science things for the rest of the day with mostly everyone around you. It was so different from home, yet it was so special.

The only one that wouldn’t interact with you at all was the, as everyone called him, Dark Prince.

Loki acted weird around you. He avoided being in the same room with you, and if he was obligated to, he wouldn’t be too concentrated on anything other than ignoring you —which he couldn’t do properly, because of how focused he was on not caring. You could tell, he was actively trying to hate you.

It wasn’t that it broke your heart, or anything of the kind. He just was intolerably mean. And you knew he had a good fame of being mischievous and even cruel, but something inside you knew, very deep down, he was a fragile soul hiding from something bigger —and you couldn’t figure out what it was.

Two weeks passed and there wasn’t much progress being made over the mark. The mark wouldn’t give in a bit of it for a biopsy. The mark wouldn’t hurt, yet wouldn’t feel like just a tattoo. It didn’t have texture, and it felt like it was something beneath the skin, beneath muscle —even beneath bone.

You were already closer to the Avengers around you, after a very few weeks of staying there and seeing them do their daily activities. You even had a routine of sorts. You’d wake up very early and get any lab test needed for later. You’d go to some classes at your college, yet leave early to get into the Stark’s laboratory, and keep on learning. You’d pick Peter Parker from school and go to get him a coffee on your work while talking about what you two had most in common, and then you’d go to the compound back and discuss the latest discoveries over your mark.

It was exhausting, only talking about science all day long for weeks. You thought it would be the biggest blessing you’ve ever had. It wasn’t.

So, one good night after a long day, you found yourself meroding the library again. You needed a book that would take your mind off somewhere else. You had a long list of fanfiction you were still to get through —but you needed the hardcover or paperback, the smell of the new pages, the creamy texture of sliding through a long and heavy book. You needed the silence and coziness of a true library, the warm colors that contrasted so well against the bright and cold lights of the lab and the hospital.

You grabbed a book, the first one that caught your eye, and laid over the long couch that was once occupied by the God of Mischief. What was Loki up to those days? You haven’t seen him at all, and you even began worrying for him. Was he sick? Was he eating? Was he sleeping well?

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t care for you, you shouldn’t care for him either.

You closed your eyes, and let the cracking of the fireplace be the only sound filling the room. Your breathing slowed down and you felt yourself drifting away. Your shoulders felt less heavy and your feet were almost flying away.

You heard some light footsteps come out of the corner of one bookshelf, someone that had been hiding ever since you came in. You didn’t open your eyes, and pretended to be asleep.

The person walked up to you silently, and you could recognize the sigh. Loki seemed to be staring down at you, and you did your best to pretend to be still sleeping, even though you wanted to wake up and talk to him —desperately. But you kept your urges to yourself, and stirred in place to get a slight look at him without him noticing.

He sat on the individual couch that was just right by your side. You could see very little of him, but you saw his long fingers getting near you. You froze in place, pondering what he would do next. He, with a featherlight touch, lingered his hand over your hidden neck. You wanted to see what he was doing, so you pretended to move in your sleep a little more and allowed him more access to your neck.

Was that very reckless of you? Maybe.

But you, for a strange reason you couldn’t yet point out, trusted him not to hurt you in any way. Even if he only tried to push you away since you’ve met. Even if the only times you’ve talked it ended in frustration and mean sarcasm. You trusted him. And you knew it had to do with your colorvision.

He took a sharp breath in, and you could see the nervousness on his face. Your eyes were now completely open, and if he wasn’t so focused on your neck, he would’ve noticed. You saw his raw display of vulnerability. The mark. He wanted to see your mark better. Touch it.

You understood, then. The mark did concern him. It was his business.

He reached closer to your skin. Lowered the turtleneck slightly and grazed the mark with his fingertips. He was flustered, annoyed, tired. You could see the restlessness in his eyes, and below them. He hadn’t been sleeping well, it was obvious.

When his fingers touched the mark on your skin, you felt a tingling. You moved your eyes as slow as possible, as to not let him notice you were wide awake, and saw what he was doing. He was just touching it.

And the mark was glowing.

He sighed out once again, and muttered what sounded like a curse in old norse. Something about this was bothering him greatly, and you wanted to know. You needed to know. You clenched your jaw and the slight movement made him realize you were looking at him directly into his eyes. He gasped and pulled his hand away. You sat on the couch and frowned.

“So you know what this is”, you stated.

“What?”, he tried to compose himself. His eyes were slightly watery. Maybe it was the effect of the fireplace’s brim lights. Maybe he was too filled with emotions.

“I just saw it glowing, don’t play dumb and, please. Please. Tell me what it is. Tell me”, you asked him, this time a little less frustrated, and more needy. He chuckled and his eyes traveled between your neck and your face.

He got up and sat by your side on the same couch. Silently, he offered his hand. You grabbed it. He didn’t look at you, he looked at your hands, your fingers. He drew slow circles with his thumbs, caressing you.

He didn’t say anything, yet you felt the calmest you’ve felt in a long, long time.

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you yet”, he murmured. His voice was almost a groan. Low and somehow colorful. It sounded like a dark blue, almost petrol —calm as the ocean, deep as the ocean. Dangerous as the ocean.

“Why?”, you whispered.

“Well, I…”, he moved his head, getting to the right words. “I know better than anyone how gruesome it can be to hide someone else’s truth. But I just can’t tell you now. I think I’m not ready to tell you”.

You paused before answering, and nodded slowly. You understood what he was saying, but you still were being eaten alive by curiosity and impatience.

“Will you tell me, someday?”.

Your shoulders were touching, and you allowed yourself to rest your head on his shoulder. It was almost as if his body was molded to be with yours. His hands molded to be around yours.

You breathed in his fresh scent, and wondered why was this man so close to you, right now, allowing you to be this close, allowing you to sync your breathing with his.

“Someday”, he muttered. He rested his head over yours, still drawing slow shapes on your hand.

After some silent time your body felt all the tiredness of the day and you began falling back asleep. He let you —he might have even encouraged it. He was so different from the Loki he had been the past few weeks. Almost as if the confirmation that your mark could glow, made him give up his goal to ignore your existence. And he was… gentle, to say the least. He was silently kind, and he felt like home.

You might have fallen a little more for him.

Over the course of the next week he stopped trying to pretend like you didn’t exist. He laughed at your jokes with the rest of the group. He offered you coffee while he did his own. He even accepted to go out on one of your coffee shop tours with his brother, once.

But you’ve never talked by yourself, without being under the veil of safety of a friend group.

Sometimes Tony Stark would bicker at him, yes, but ever since you told Thor you saw colors, he had gotten worse against Loki. He teased him endlessly about things you couldn’t understand, as if trying to get information off him.

One day, in a meeting, Tony Stark kept talking about a specific element on the periodic table he was sure could be mixed with tattoo ink to make it the exact texture of your mark. He was trying to give the mark a meaning, a justification, and nobody in the meeting was buying it.

Loki wasn’t even paying attention. He usually didn’t pay attention to whatever Tony said, as a general life rule. But this time, he should’ve, because Tony Stark was actively trying to catch him distracted.

“Anyway. Loki, could you pass me that blue folder right by your side?”, he asked nonchalantly. There were about seven piled up folders of different colors and the blue one was right in the middle.

Loki didn’t glue his eyes off his phone for a moment, except for a slight glance to the pile to find the blue one. He grabbed it and passed it over to Stark. Nobody moved for a while, and when Loki realized what he did, he stopped in place and looked around, trying to see if someone noticed.

Stark and Thor were staring at him with a smug grin plastered on their faces.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake”.

“I KNEW IT!”, yelled Thor in excitement, and fist-bumped Banner.

“Okay, Reindeer Games, this isn’t a joke anymore”, said Tony Stark, becoming way more serious than before. You watched it all develop in silence, amazed at how funny they all were.

Loki sat back on his chair, crossing his arms and sighing dramatically. He looked at you and winked.

“Everything is a joke, Stark”.

“No, no, it’s not. Because we’ve had in here at this little doctor-to-be having lower grades because of the amount of unnecessary experiments we performed on that weird mark of theirs, and you’re sitting here, knowing exactly what it is, and how dangerous it can be, and not saying a word. I know you think human lives are less important, but…”, and Loki interrupted him.

“I’m sorry. Have you said anything I told you? I thought we agreed on…”, he began asking you, and Stark talked over him, yet again.

“Excuse me, you knew?! You knew all of this and didn’t say anything?!”, both directed the blame to you. You sat in there, without any idea of what they were accusing you of.

“Listen. Loki touched my mark and it glowed, and he didn’t explain anything, but I don’t know anything about it. It just glows when he touches it”.

“I am so, so happy for you, brother. I might even start tearing up”, said Thor, placing a hand on Loki’s shoulder. Loki shook it off with a frown.

“Stop it. What did you tell Stark?”.

“Just to check it out… and I might have mentioned the color thing”, he winked.

“Yeah, Mischief. Hercules right here told me all about your color vision and how it’s all related to this little person right here. And I want you to tell me right now what’s up with that mark”, he said firmly.

You didn’t dare say anything. You thought you should have, but you couldn’t. Loki asked Stark to talk in private, and when they came out, Stark was nearly laughing, amazed at whatever Loki had explained.

You got up and walked to him expectantly, curiosity and fear eating you alive.

“It’s no harm. Don’t worry about it. You should take it as a cool tattoo and go back to your normal life. We’re done here”.

“But, Mr. Stark… what is it?”.

“Can’t tell you. Be thankful to this idiot right here that can’t get his shit together”, he pointed at Loki, and Loki blushed, hiding his face between his arms over the table. You sighed and felt tears in your eyes, but pushed them away.

“So… this is it? This whole thing ends here?”.

“I don’t see what the big deal is about, kid. You’re free to go back to your life now. No needles all day long, and you get to work and study like you used to”.

You get to go to your normal life now. It should be good, right?

As Stark said, no more getting your blood drawn every morning. No more waking up at ungodly hours just to be still behind in all your books and work. No more walking around the compound and greeting all of the Avengers you’ve grown attached to. No more coffee with Thor. No more laughing with Loki at his snarky commentary over TV shows —and, to that matter, no more Friday movie nights with the team—.

And still, no idea what the Hell is happening on your skin. Not a single answer.

You let some of those tears roll down your cheeks in the intimacy of your former room, while packing your stuff. You heard a knock on the door and you cleaned your face with a tissue.

“Come in”.

“You know…”, said Banner, leaning over the door frame with a kind smile. Banner was always so kind to you. “This isn’t a goodbye. We liked you too, you should be around more often, even if you’re not living here”.

“Oh, Dr. Banner…”, you sighed with a smile. “Thank you. I’d love to keep in touch”.

“Call me Bruce, it’s all good, kid”, he smiled. “And maybe, you know, you can also keep in touch with Loki”, he winked. You blushed.

“Wh… what? Why would I…?”, you stuttered, but Bruce closed the door behind him and left. You laughed incredulous. Everyone seemed to know more than you did, didn’t they?

But even though you thought you’d finally rid yourself of that God that caused so many problems and made your heartbeat race to an abnormal pace every time, you didn’t.

Because there you were, finishing up your shift on your half-time work, silently thanking the customers to not order any more coffee for the evening, when a big and blonde man stumbled over the glass door.

“Thor, you oaf”, scoffed Loki, and you quickly hid behind the counter.

“It’s here, isn’t it?”, he said, walking in and looking for you, calling your name. You had no other choice than to show up, faking a smile.

“Hey”, you greeted. Thor gestured to zip his lips and pushed his brother towards you. Loki did not want to be there, and it showed perfectly clear on his expressions.

“I’m leaving. Just came by to help my brother…”.

“Force your brother”, corrected Loki, ever so sassy.

“...to help him finally talk to you”.

“Ah, so you finally grew a pair of balls and decided to tell me what the fuck happened on my skin?”.

“Fierce. I like you”, he smirked. Thor smiled and left without turning back. “Listen, I’m…”.

“Sorry? You very well should. And you think that because you are somehow special you can crash into my workplace and just tell me here the big revelation of what we’ve been working on for the past two months? Just like that? You have a lot of nerve showing up here in the first place”.

“Well, nerves, I have. Have I told you I grew up with Thor?”.

“And you keep joking as if nothing happened. You’re an asshole”.

“I’m a God and a prince, and you should talk to me with more respect”.

“Ah. Then, Your Highness, I will escort you to the exit”.

“You see? You’re sarcastic, funny, attractive… We’re made for each other. That’s what I’ve come to tell you, actually. Your mark…”.

“I’m not interested! Do you think bathing me in meaningless compliments will help? You calling me attractive is a mock, and I won’t have it in my workplace. My boss will walk in at any moment, and I should be…”.

“Now, if you just let me for a moment”.

The entire discussion grew out of place, Loki and you making a scene, and it came to an end when you accidentally threw coffee at him. Unfortunately for you, your boss walked in at that very moment, and, giving you very little time to explain yourself, fired you instantly for assaulting a customer. And, honestly? Fair enough.

But now, you were sitting on the sidewalk with the man that —to some degree— got you fired, and nearly on the brink of tears again. He had a hand on the small of your back, trying to comfort you without a clue on how to.

“I’m sorry I threw coffee at you”, you muttered, your face buried on your knees. He sighed.

“I should be the one apologizing”, he said with a low voice, still unsure if he even wanted to say it out loud. No—he knew he had to. “Let me make it up to you”.

You scoffed.

“How could you possibly help me with this? You’re not even from this planet”.

“I’ll help you with job hunting. I’m gonna get you a good job”.

“I don’t trust you”, you sighed. “How can I know this isn’t a trick? Ever since we’ve met you’ve said nothing but lies”.

“Yeah, I’ll give you that”, he nodded and dropped his hand from your back. He fidgeted with his long fingers.

“I won’t be able to pay rent or feed my pets”, you said in a whisper, with a crack in your voice. Something inside of Loki broke in two pieces.

“Stay at the compound. Until you get a job”.

“Yeah, and I presume you’ll convince Tony of that?”.

“Yes”.

“The man hates you”.

“But he doesn’t hate you”.

“I doubt it. I wasted so much of his time…”.

“You didn’t waste his time. Everyone liked you, including him”.

“I assume you aren’t on that list”.

“I am”, he said, without missing a beat. “I do like you, I wouldn’t have apologized otherwise. And you’re kind of nuts, I like that”.

“I’m… flattered?”, you chuckled and wiped away a tear. He smiled compassionately, surprised of himself for caring that much for you.

“You know, I’m going to tell our kids we met because you assaulted me”, he joked, realizing he still had the coffee stain on his shirt and cleaning it off with a brush of magic. You laughed.

“You’ll have to teach me how to do that. It’s more practical than having to take it to the cleaners or cleaning it yourself”.

“I thought you had an assistant to take care of that”, he said. You frowned.

“Why would I have that?”.

“You’re a doctor”.

“I’m not yet, but, even if I were, assistants don’t do that. They answer calls and schedule the appointments, and…”, but Loki didn’t hear anything else, as he was deep inside a revelation. Yes, that was it.

He just found the perfect job for you.

“Dr. Banner’s lab”, you answered the phone. “Alright, could you tell me your name and a phone number to contact you again? Great, thank you”, you scribbled down on a post-it and glued it to the table. Loki and Tony Stark observed from afar, Loki with a content smile and Tony, slightly impressed at the God of Mischief. “I’ll call you back in ten minutes, let me rearrange some other appointments and we’ll make you fit. It’s no problem, glad to be of service”.

“Who would’ve thought? They just had to drop hot coffee on you to gain your full attention”, teased Tony Stark. Loki’s content smile dissipated and turned into a frown.

“Whatever. I just felt guilty, it’s not like I will actually take action”.

“Keep lying to yourself, but not me”.

“They might be a friend at most. It’d be ridiculous of me to actually date them, just because—”.

“Just because they’s your soulmate. Just because the universe decided you two would be the perfect match, made for each other, two sides of the same coin, two drops of the same rain. You’re right. Silly me”, he punched his shoulder lightly, and, while leaving, he said, “well, good thing you don’t have feelings or anything, because we’re actually a little tight on the rooms now that there’s so many new people, so you’ll have to share a room. Pack your stuff and go to room 207”.

“What? Stark, wait—”, but he was rudely cut off by the door.

Loki sighed, defeated. This was gonna be harder than anticipated.

“There’s something you might need to know”, said Loki, hurrying the steps behind you. You were walking way too fast back to your old room.

“It can wait! I’m back!”, you smiled, and Loki sighed.

“Yes, it’s about that, actually”.

You opened the door and stood there for a moment.

“The bed”, you pointed out. “This isn’t the room I’m getting, right? Which is it?”.

“It’s…”, Loki seemed embarrassed. “It’s this one”.

“It can’t be. This has a king-sized bed”, and paused. “And I’m not a king yet”.

Loki contained a chuckle. Norns.

“Stark said they’re short on rooms”, he explained briefly. “I’m not sure why they would put a marriage bed instead of two singles—because that’s what we are”.

“What are you saying?”, your heartbeat rushed.

“We have to share the room, apparently”.

“You’re not serious”.

“As a heart attack, darling”, he smirked.

“We can’t share bed, we’re… we’re not, we can’t— you know! It’s inappropriate!”, you stuttered and blushed and moved your arms around. Loki looked down and you could see he was slightly blushing too. He sighed.

“It’s what we’ve got. I’m tired. I want to sleep. Are you?”.

“I’m… going to talk to Mr. Stark”.

“Now?”, he glanced at the clock. It was almost two in the morning. “He must be snoring by now”.

“Or too focused on his lab to even pay attention to me and my problems”, you agreed.

“This doesn’t have to be a problem”, said Loki, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The bed is big enough for the two of us to not even touch”.

“I… I guess we can try”.

“Just tonight. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll deal with it tomorrow”.

“Alright”.

“Okay”.

“It won’t be weird”.

“Only if we make it”.

“And we won’t make it”.

“No, we’re fine”.

“We’re good”.

You sighed and trembled ever so slightly, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. Loki laid on his side and turned his back to you, without getting inside the covers. You did the same, but got into the cover. None of you changed into your pajamas.

Along the night, Loki turned around. He was awake, he couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t either, but pretended to. He tossed and turned, his legs couldn’t stay still, and his heart raced everytime he glanced at you. You were too still—too nervous. He was there. How could you sleep if he was there? And you were there, too. How could he even close his eyes?

Loki wasn’t sure what time it was when you got up and left. But the sun hadn’t settled on the sky, and it seemed like it was around four, close to five in the morning. You got up and left. You didn’t leave the room, but didn’t come back to bed. He sat on the bed again and looked for you.

“What are you—?”, he muttered, seeing you with a blanket and a pillow on the floor.

“I need to sleep”, you cut him off briefly. He sighed and laid on bed back again.

When Loki woke up, stiff and without having a single clue of what had happened, he looked around and found the room completely empty.

He frowned and made an effort to open his glued eyes. The blanket and pillow were folded over your side of the bed and your normal clothes were hanging on the desk chair. Your things were in the room.

He groaned your name, still half asleep, and heard no response. He couldn’t hear anything else than the birds chirping and couldn’t feel anything else than the sun rays burning on his face.

He finally got up and roamed around the room. Stark's plan was to bother him, and it wasn’t working quite as much as he’d liked to.

Maybe you’d accept to be in the same room and Loki would have to actually move his things in here, with yours. He realized you brought a pile of non-medical books. It was on the corner of the desk, and it seemed terribly balanced. He passed his fingers through the spines and found himself opening every book and reading some paragraphs, finding your annotations hilarious.

He sighed.

Fine, maybe it made sense you were his soulmate. Maybe.

What didn’t make sense was what he saw when he entered the kitchen of the compound.

His brother was drowning his morning sorrows on a huge mug of coffee —probably supposedly destined to be for soup— and groaning at his mother arranging the collar of his dress-shirt.

Loki immediately hid behind the door.

What was Frigga doing here? And why was his always-so-bedraggled brother wearing a silk white shirt and tight jeans? He observed Frigga scold his older son for not having braid correctly the strand of Loki’s hair on his own, and Loki suddenly remembered to put back Thor’s strand on his own braid. He must have been too caught up on braiding the damned strand that didn’t hear Frigga walking up to him and opening the door, ruining his refuge.

“Aren’t you gonna say hello to your mother?”, she smiled with open arms. Loki pressed his lips in a thin line and hoped it resembled a heart warming smile, hugging her and repressing a groan when she made use of the closeness to arrange the belt of his armor. “And why are you wearing Asgardian clothes on Midgard? Look at your brother, he is engaging much better with the culture”.

“He has never worn anything other than his leather pants and metal top for the past six months”.

“Loki!”, protested Thor. “That’s not true! I’ve been wearing suits, too!”.

“Yes. The buttons pop out everytime you sit. It’s dangerous”.

“Loki, watch your tongue”, scolded his mother. “And sit there by his side”, she indicated, and with a flip of her wrist Loki was changed into a marine blue suit with straight red lines that gave him a headache. Loki grunted.

“I want to complain about your choosing of the colors”.

“Don’t be so exquisite with your greens, son. I have something to do in here and then leave for more duties on Asgard, so you two are going to listen to me”.

Loki glanced at his brother, and Thor hid his face behind the mug. Loki instantly knew what was going on and started fighting back.

“Whatever Thor has told you, he’s wrong and he knows absolutely nothing of what actually is going on, and let me tell you, if you ever see me anywhere near a disgusting and useless being such as a mortal, then I’ll…”.

“Loki, zip it”.

“Fine. But I’m…”.

“No”.

Loki crossed his arms and didn’t say one more word.

“I’ve been looking at them for a while now”, she said, and raised a corner of her mouth, repressing a smirk. “You’d do well in accepting your fate. It’s not as common as you think, a double soulmate bond”.

“I don’t want it. I’m good on my own and they’ll be way better off without me”.

“That, I agree”, added Thor.

“Have I said you could speak?”, she frowned. “You’ll always be good on your own, Loki. That’s not the point of a soulmate. They’re not there to complete you, they’re there to share your fullness with you. Give them a chance”.

“No”.

“I’ll go talk to them, then”.

“Alright! Hold on”, he got up and stopped his mother from walking to Banner’s office. “I’ll ask them out for coffee. We’ll talk”.

“Good”, she smiled sincerely. “You won’t regret it, believe me. And braid your brother’s strand better”.

Loki rolled his eyes and groaned before leaving. Not without arranging the strand in front of his mother, of course.

You were gladly submerged into one of your books, taking notes at the speed of light with a scribbling that no longer made sense —in your first year you were neat with your handwriting, but as the things you needed to learn got more and more complex and long you had to sacrifice it for the sake of saved time—.

The common room of the compound was filled with activity, yet each one of you were on their own thing. Pepper ran around, busy as always, in things you didn’t quite understand. Some of the Avengers were having breakfast over some friendly chatter, reading the news, fixing their own tech, texting family members, among other things. Thor was focused on a handwritten letter for his father. Peter was at school, which was weird, because Tony took him and it wasn’t nearly five in the morning when that happened. He went to school at eight. He also forgot his backpack and didn’t come back to pick it up.

But you were focused on your anatomy book. This class was giving you trouble. You needed to memorize way more things than your brain was capable of, and neither sticky notes, nor flashcards, nor Notion apps, nor reciting out loud, not even making songs of it would help you get it all in your head. You contained a groan against your notebook —you didn’t want to draw attention from others—, and went back to trying.

Loki walked in with his nonchalant and ever so elegant step, and sat by your side without hesitation. He left a cup of coffee by your side and sipped from the one in his own hand. You muttered a thanks without gluing your eyes off the book, and kept on taking notes. He stayed in silence, observing you, until breaking it with a whisper,

“You know I have no issue with the murder, but do you have to keep the bones in the bedroom?”.

“I thought that was where bones were supposed to be”, you answered, still looking at the stupid words in your stupid book. Loki smirked. “And what do you mean you have no issue with the murder?”.

“Don’t deflect it. Who did you kill?”.

“I got them from the cemetery”.

He frowned in confusion.

“And why would you do that?”.

“I’m… studying anatomy? Is the word medical student not specific enough for you?”.

“You have me! You can study my anatomy!”, he pointed at himself as if it were the obvious solution to your ‘problem’. Although it wasn’t a problem. You had bones from the cemetery.

“You are nuts”.

“Why? Too much flesh?”.

“Yes?! I’m studying bones, not— don’t you fucking dare say it. Don’t say it, Loki, I warn—”.

“I have one exposed bone you could stu—”

You smacked him on the head with your book. The bonk it made was more than satisfactory for him to shut up.

He sat by your side in silence when he realized you two had drawn all the attention from the rest of the room. His brother had raised his eyebrows suggestively and thrown him a look that said “you ought to ask them out now”. And Loki had to take a deep breath for that.

Not that he ever lacked confidence or charm to attract whoever he wanted to. He had lovers in Asgard and fanatics on Midgard, and he convinced an entire team of superheroes to deem him worthy of their trust —which he surely wasn’t—. He simply was…

How would the word be?

“A chicken!”, you said. He blinked his thoughts away.

“Beg your pardon?”.

“That’s what I need. I need to practice on my stitches, and what better for that than a chicken breast?”.

“I… you can stitch me up if you need to practice”.

“God. Stop offering yourself as a mannequin for my studies!”, you groaned. “Don’t you see how weird it would be? I don’t want to stitch your perfectly healthy skin!”.

Loki pondered that image for a while.

“It must seem mad, you’re right”, he nodded. “But consider that I merely want to help you. You seem stressed and my time is badly spent on tricks nobody appreciates around here”.

You closed your book and sat upright, tilting your head. His eyes didn’t glue off yours, and he seemed sincere —not that you had to doubt it at that point. You wondered what would be going on in that clever head of his, that he felt the want —no, the need— to help you.

“I mean, if it really doesn’t bother you, I could use some help with the memorizing…”, you muttered, pointing at your flashcards. Loki smiled.

“Of course”.

“You’ll have to ask me two more times before we can actually share the bed, you know”, you joked when he came back with two coffee cups and a pan au chocolat to share. “I have a strict policy of three dates”.

“That seems too little”.

“Don’t slut shame me”.

“I’d say at least eight”.

“Are you kidding me? We’d be married at that point”.

“Well, aren't some of your people into that anyway? Like, saving yourself for marriage?”.

You laughed. Loki noticed it was a bright laughter, fresh. Fresher than the coffee he ordered for you, even.

“You call it ‘into it’ like it’s some sort of a kink and I love that”.

Loki chuckled.

“I hope my mother isn’t hearing what we’re making as conversation on this… date”, he took a sip and marveled at the taste. Way better than Asgardian’s, that was for sure. “Not that I actually think this is a date. What should we call this?”.

“A friends-date?”.

“An apology?”.

“Maybe a get-to-know-each-other-plus-coffee”.

“Passing time together because there’s nothing else to do”.

“You know, all of those things could be shortened as a date”.

“It is a date, then”.

“Good”.

“Fine”.

“Alright”.

Loki sighed and hid his face in his arms. His curls dropped off his shoulders and into the table like a wild river, and you noticed a strand of blonde hair braided behind his ear, hidden from plain sight. You’ve also observed the freckles on the nape of his neck, creeping up and very dispersed around his face. You hadn’t noticed them before —his face had a golden shimmer, rather than the white marble you’ve always seen from afar. He had a humane way of handling himself around life, but up close you could feel the magic glimmer from his skin.

You hunched over the table and rested your chin on your arms, imitating his position and still observing his beauty. He really was handsome. His hair seemed so soft and silky, you wished you could thread your fingers through it.

After a few more seconds he raised his head and rested a cheekbone over his bicep, his cheeks and lips squishing slightly as if he was making a little pout. You smiled.

You looked at each other in silence. You observed his facial features, each defined line of his face and each sharp corner. His eyes—always so defiant, always so keen, like a hunter—seemed relaxed and soft under your gaze. He was observing you as intensely as you were, and you wondered what he was thinking about it. What was he noticing?

You tilted your head and laid your cheek on your arm, like he was doing, and didn’t notice the neck of your sweater lifting down. His heart skipped a beat when he saw your mark, as if he hadn’t seen it before. He decided he needed to keep you by his side for longer than he planned. He’s seen your distress. He had to say something. You had the right and the urge to know.

He put his palm up over the table, inviting your hand to rest over his. You were hesitant, but he had the same warm gaze as before. It was alright, it said. You put your hand over his and he enclosed it with the other one.

You both observed the size difference. His hands, slightly calloused, veins marked and bony and yet—still soft. Not an ice cold skin, as you imagined him to have, but an inviting warmth that made you want to hunch closer to him, rest your whole face on the pads of his fingers.

You might have fallen for him a bit more.

He took in some air and decided it was time to speak.

“I have a mark too”, he murmured, almost purred. His voice gravel, a texture so specific you could associate it to a feeling. Summer rain. Tires over wet pavement, the humming of the car engines. His breathing wasn’t too labored but you could hear it still. Maybe he was closer than you felt him to be. You observed his long eyelashes, thick and heavy covering crystal green eyes, less like emeralds and more like jade stones, tints of blue merging too. “It’s yours”.

“You have my same mark?”, you asked in a whisper.

“I mean it belongs to you”.

You stayed in silence, without knowing what to say. His eyes were peaceable, gentle, still. He didn’t glue them off yours and wanted an answer, you could feel it. You still felt his firm grip on your hand, how he studied the way your fingers started caressing his hands without realizing, as an automatic motion. As if your hands were programmed to do so.

“What do you mean?”.

“It’s a special kind of bond… it’s hard to explain. What matters is that we might want to stick together. It makes me feel closer to you, and maybe it makes you feel the same way about me”, he explained. You nodded and then hunched closer to him. You muttered,

“So is it true?”.

“What is?”.

“Is it a soulmate mark? Like the color vision loss?”.

Loki smiled. For the first time in a long while it was a true smile, a fond one. He opened his mouth to answer, but a violent crash outside stopped his words. None of you let go of the hands of the other, but you incorporated yourselves on your seats and looked out the window. A car crash, an aggressive one.

One of the cars had smashed the back seats of the other one, and both of you ran to the accident without hesitation. You caught your heart on your throat when you realized that there was someone on the back seat, and that someone was your smart little friend, the one that got you into all of this in the first place.

“Peter!”, you yelled, running to get him out of the car and helping him. He was unconscious, and stuck. You couldn’t take him out yourself. Loki lifted up the other car and ripped Peter's seatbelt off, freeing him, and you laid him out on the street floor, inspecting his wounds. “Loki, call for help”, you said, and handed him your phone. “It’s 911”.

Peter hit his head and the broken glasses pierced through his arm. He broke a rib from the impact with the seatbelt, but it didn’t seem to have pierced any organ. He was breathing and his heart was beating. He was bleeding out and you did your best to stop the bleeding and keep him stable until the ambulance came, but you were sure he’d make it just fine, and that kept you sane throughout.

The paramedics came in flying and took him in, asking you questions. You and Loki went with them and waited in the hospital’s waiting room until a doctor came out and told you it was all fine. They had to monitor him for a day after he woke up and then he’d be good to go home.

He seemed to be recovering insanely fast, and Loki said something like you know how fast young bodies heal, as if covering him up for being a God like him, or something. You almost chuckled.

When May, his aunt, came to the hospital, she had brought Tony Stark and Happy with her. You were confused, to say the least. And now that you came to think about it, Loki seemed to act like he already knew Peter from somewhere.

“How’s Peter? What happened?”, asked May, rushing to the room.

“He’s just had a scratch”, said Loki, opening the door for her.

“A scratch? A fucking glass cut through his arm. He broke a rib! He had a car on top of him!”, you whispered to Loki when May was out of your reach. Tony walked past you and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

“He’s had worse”.

You frowned, but didn’t say anything else. You waited with them by Peter’s side until he finally woke up and cracked a joke. He was in a huge car accident and the kid was cracking jokes. He suddenly seemed to remember something and got up from the bed quickly.

“Woah, woah, there. What happened, kid?”.

“The driver! That’s what I was doing there, Mr. Stark!”.

“Take it easy, Peter. You’ve just been…”, you tried to get him back to bed, but he dismissed you with a hand wave.

“... under a car, yeah, yeah. Listen, Mr. Stark. The villain was in that car, that’s why I was there. I took that taxi and then when he realized I wasn’t the victim but that I was there to take him down, he put himself through that crash to get out. I wasn’t expecting to faint, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I screwed up. I should’ve been more careful”.

You seemed to be the only one who didn’t understand a single word. Loki, on the other hand, seemed enraged at Tony Stark.

“You gave the kid a part in this mission?! Are you out of your mind?! If he were on Asgard he’d be less than five hundred!”, he yelled, walking up to Tony Stark and towering over him menacingly.

“Listen, Rock of Ages, I would never give him anything he couldn’t handle, okay?”.

“He clearly couldn’t handle this”.

“And how was I supposed to know that?”.

“Hey, stop!”, said Peter. “I can manage. I’ll be fine, I promise. I just… I need a computer”.

“What?”.

“I have mine in here”, you said. At least you could do something if you didn’t understand what was going on. You gave it to him and he put a pendrive on it. Immediately, FRIDAY popped up on the computer.

“Welcome, Spiderman. You seem to have put a tracker on the target. Would you like me to follow it?”.

Tony Stark smirked proudly at Peter. You stared bewildered.

“You’re Spiderman?!”.

“You didn’t know?”, frowned Loki. “How did you know Peter?”.

“He’s the little nerd at the back of my classes! He’s not… he can’t be Spiderman! What?”.

“Yeah… it might take a while to believe”.

“Hey, man”, chuckled Peter. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”.

Everyone fell silent. May put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well… you’re not exactly… you’re small!”.

“I—can’t believe this. My own aunt”, he shook his head in disapproval, and started typing. “Now, you’re a doctor, right? You think you can sign some papers and get me out of here?”.

“I’m just a resident. I’m not even one in this hospital…”, you said, looking for the nurse. “Maybe I can get you someone to…”.

“You seem to forget I’m here and I do what I please when I please. Just leave, kid. I’ll make sure it’s alright”, said Tony while texting the chief of the hospital. He entered the call. “Hey Richard, my man. From CEO to CEO…”.

Happy kept staring at you. He stared the whole time, and you were beginning to think he was about to get you kicked out or arrested. He stared as if he were thinking what to do with you.

Loki seemed to notice and stared back at him. Happy broke your eye contact to fidget with his fingers.

“What’s your problem?”, suggested Loki. You had to contain a smirk. Since when was he so protective of you?

Happy got up and walked up to you.

“Nothing, Loki”, he muttered, and told you, “I’d like to have a chat with you outside”. When Loki started following you too, he had to pause and roll his eyes, “alone. Jeez, Tony was right about you being so uptight”.

“I simply distrust your intentions with my friend”.

“No need to get so jealous”, chuckled Happy, as if all the nervousness he had dissipated as soon as he recognized only care for you in Loki’s eyes. “What I’ll offer might benefit you too, lovers”.

Now you were nervous.

Happy took you to the hall of the hospital, and texted some people. You tried to peek in out of curiosity but he moved the phone away and tsked at you. You grew more and more nervous.

“Well, spill the beans, Happy!”, you exclaimed with impatience.

“I’ve seen what you did in there”, he said without gluing his eyes off the phone. “With Peter”.

“What do you mean?”.

“You’re a doctor”.

“In formation”.

“Already going through your residence. You have the doctor’s title. You’re good in action, you reacted quickly and with confidence”.

“How…? Were you there?”.

“I have access to all security cameras —for legal reasons… only in New York”, he winked. First time he looked at you. He put his phone down. “It doesn’t matter how I know stuff, what matters is, Tony and I talked about this, and he gave me full control on the decision. I get to choose someone, and I choose you”.

“What?”, you raised your eyebrows, trying to figure out what the Hell Happy just said. Did he even say something, among all of those words?

“I’m offering you a job”.

“As what?”.

“Avenger’s medic”.

Loki, from the other side of the door, smirked widely. You blinked a few times and tried to process the information. Were you being asked to join the team as their doctor? It seemed like a dream you couldn’t even imagine. Your brain couldn’t conjure up such wild ideas, so it only made sense this was happening in real life.

“Are you serious?”.

“Yeah. You’d go into the battlefield in a nearby quinjet and run to the injured Avengers. That on a mission. If not, then you’d have your own consultory on the Tower and make all the check-ups and stitch them up or put bandaids on their knees when they fall off the stairs”, he said, and your brain went a thousand miles per hour. “If you want, you can still be Dr. Banner’s assistant, too. I think you can work those two jobs without issue. Ah, you’ll have to make a month or so long study trip to Asgard, so you can learn what kind of medicine measures would the demi-Gods require”.

“I…”, you stuttered.

“None of this should interfere too much with you receiving your residence certificates, and taking the board exams. Just texted your college and they would make special arrangements for you. We’re talking about the health of our heroes, after all, aren’t we?”, he smiled. Then, he asked, “so? What do you say?”.

“I… I don’t get it”, you muttered. “Why me? I’m not special in any way. I’m not a genius and I haven’t even actually graduated yet”.

“Aahh, you and your insecurities”, breathed out Happy, patting your back. “Yeah, I’ve got you all studied up. You say you’ll fail an exam and then receive a 98. And then feel like you’re not working hard enough. If my information is correct, you have anxiety weighed by a huge imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how hard you try, it’s never gonna be quite enough. Am I right?”.

“How the Hell—”.

“I know everything, remember?”, he interrupted you. “But let me assure you, my job is to find the best people for my best people. And I have no imposter syndrome here, let me assure you, I do a very damn good job. I choose you. You’ll graduate with honors and all. It’s up to you to accept this offer or not, now”.

“This is nuts”, you sighed out. You looked down, and then, with shiny eyes, hugged Happy. “Thank you! Thank you! This is such an honor, sir”.

Happy arranged his clothes after pulling off the hug —already familiar with all-too-excited youngsters— and cleared his throat.

“Call me Happy. Get ready, you start working tomorrow. The study trip is in two weeks, meanwhile, you’ll get personalized assistance on basic Avenger’s procedures. Banner will help you with details to treat the Hulk if it ever comes to it”.

You nodded and he walked off, leaving you to stare at a wall.

You’re a part of the Team, now.

That night you were too hyped up to sleep. The momentary solution of the floor was beginning to take a toll on your back, and you ended up taking turns with Loki. That night was Loki’s turn. But you couldn’t sleep.

You roamed around the room, fixing your and his piles of books from the opposite sides of the place, moving your head to a melody in your mind. Loki was leg-spread on his side of the bed —even though you didn’t share it, you still had complementary preferred sides— reading a poetry book that had him enchanted.

“It’s late”, he stated after he glanced at his wristwatch.

“I can’t get down this high”, you said, still fixing the books. He closed the book with a small thud and laid on his belly, facing you from the feet of the bed.

“But you need to sleep. Tomorrow starts your probation, does it not?”.

“Well, yes, but—”.

He materialized a cup of tea over his open palm and carefully handed it to you. You accepted it, and he patted the bed for you to sit on your side. You shook your head.

“No, it’s your turn tonight, and—”.

“Would you stop being so uptight? Just sit here”.

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded, following his directions. His tone left no room for arguing.

He didn’t get off the bed, though. He sat right back where he was and kept on reading his book. He dimmed the lights with a flick of the wrist and didn’t move an inch after you finished your tea and laid on your side.

You stared up at him. He didn’t seem to notice or mind. His chest slightly raised up and down with tranquil breaths and his eyes flickered from word to word with enthusiasm, revisiting some paragraphs from time to time. You grew curious. You moved in place and accommodated yourself to look at his book better, and he turned his attention back to you.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable. Do you want me to leave?”.

“No, actually”, you muttered. “Would you read it to me?”.

He looked at you quizzically. Then, murmured back, “read this?”. You nodded. “Yes, sure”.

After a couple of poems, both of you started getting more comfortable together. You scooched closer to him and he let his hand mindlessly fall to your hair, caressing it gently. You could feel your own chest heaving at the feeling of his warm fingers on the nape of your neck, but you loved it. Your eyelids felt heavier, and his smooth voice seemed to have a massage-like effect on you. His voice is perfect for poetry, you thought, and relaxed even more under his touch.

After a while, Loki’s body began slipping off and instead of sitting with his back against the bed frame, he seemed to be almost laying down with his head elevated. Instead of bothering you, this allowed you to get even closer to him. You tentatively laid the crown of your head against his shoulder, and he —half asleep— instinctively passed his arm around you, not even once letting his hand get away from your hair.

You don’t remember when it happened, but you fell asleep to his words.

You realized you had slept in there when your alarm went off and your eyes opened in front of him. He was awakening at the same time, and groaned lightly at the loud ringing. You spend the night in a similar position —his arm was still around you like a blanket, and you had thrown your head on his chest, your whole body against his side, and your feet tangled like a married couple—.

You raised your chin slightly to meet his eyes and your noses brushed. He chuckled at your strong blush.

“Hi”, he said with a raspy voice.

“Good morning”, you whispered, still burning red, pulling a little away.

He let go of you and you got up to get ready for the day. He stretched in place and nuzzled his nose against the pillow, going right back to sleep. You smiled gently, placing a blanket on top of him and leaving for your new exciting adventure.

Tony was not having it.

From the waiting area, Loki could hear Tony Stark’s whines over how long you’ve been taking for one simple procedure, complaining at your constant poking with different needles, and how… cold the stethoscope was? What is he, five?

Loki knocked twice and waited for Banner’s tiresome face greeting him. He nodded in silence and approached you while you scribbled down on Tony Stark’s health history and contained some grunts.

Your eyes perked up when you noticed him.

“Hi, Loki”, you received his kiss on the cheek. “Your check-up is not today, I think… uh… tomorrow at nine, right, JARVIS?”.

“Yes, Mx. Y/N, Mr. Laufeyson’s consult—”.

“Oh, don’t mind me, darling. Just came by to bring you this”, he left a cup of espresso over your desk. “I’ve noticed you didn’t have time to get it this morning”.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest”, you winked at him. He chuckled and left without much more to say.

You immediately went back to your consult. Banner and Stark, however, did not come back as quickly. After a minute of painful silence, Tony started.

“You two fucked last night”.

You mumbled in a professional tone that you didn’t and went back to your scribbling. They were not convinced.

“Your energy changed. You were tense with each other, and now he’s all suave bringing you coffee and calling you his darling”, added Banner. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re getting along better. Now that we have to, because someone couldn’t get me in a separate room with him”.

“Why don’t you just admit you two fucked?”.

“‘Cause we didn’t, Stark. And we’re not going to. We just hang out more often, you know, like friends do”.

“He didn’t call me his darling”.

“That’s because you’re not his friend”.

“Ah. Touché”.

Not another minute of silence went by, that Thor walked in with his disruptive and abrasive energy. You sighed exasperatedly and sat down.

“I see you and my brother have at last made benefit of your marking situation!”.

You frowned and hid your face behind a hand.

“I don’t have time for your riddles, Thor”.

“You and my brother have slept together! I peeped in his room this morning to get a hold on his potion’s book and found him sleeping in bed with no less than our little healer under his embrace!”.

Tony and Bruce looked at each other triumphantly.

“Thor, get out”, you sighed. “We just slept in the same room, and can you, for fuck’s sake, let me do my new job without talking about that certain someone?”.

"Alright. Alright", they said, and didn't plan on dropping off the subject for too long. You sighed and pinched Stark's arm with less carefulness than before. "Auch! Okay, I deserve that".

You did not drink. At all.

There was a reason why you wouldn’t drink. There always was one. You’d have school early the next day —your stomach hurts when you drink wine —you’re training the next morning —you’re too busy to go out on a Friday night.

The real one was that you were actually a lightweight.

Of course, Thor saw right through you. Who other than your Asgardian best friend to take you to a party and try to get you wasted all night long?

It was Saturday, and you were getting ready to leave in two days for your Asgard trip, to learn about the Gods’ physiologies. Loki was sleeping soundly on the couch, and you mindlessly threw a blanket over his shoulders. He shrugged in place and kept on sleeping. Thor observed the interaction with heart-eyes.

“You two should go together to tonight’s party”.

“What party?”, you asked, throwing some socks into your bag.

“Tonight’s! Stark made one for our departure. It would be rude of you to not go. And you’re supposed to bring a date. Why not ask Loki?”.

You blushed and stuttered.

“Well, I— I’m never one for parties, you know… they’re not my cup of tea, per say”.

Thor rolled his eyes.

“Right, but you have no choice on the matter! You’re coming tonight, you should! No excuses!”, he beamed, and you sighed and threw some other clothes onto your bag. “Come on. Ask Loki, he’s been expecting to go with you”.

“What? Why would he?”, you frowned and your flushed face only deepened its color.

“My friend”, he patted your shoulder. As he got closer to you, you could see his tucked in shirt and dress shoes, something he would never wear on his cotidianity. You wondered why he was getting so well dressed for this event, and even in Midgardian clothes. “You’re blind to see his moves on you, aren’t you?”.

“Thor, you idiot”, you chuckled and patted his shoulder back, mimicking his seriousness on the matter. “There’s nothing going on between your brother and I”.

“You are a fool to think he wouldn’t be delighted to join you on the festivities tonight, my friend!”.

“If he was so delighted”, you pointed out, looking at how he so peacefully rested on the common room’s couch, and lowered your voice, “then he would’ve already asked me”.

“He’s just as dense as you are. But fine, if you won’t go with him, I shall take you with me”.

“Thor, I don’t want to go to the party”, you said, closing your bag. “Much less if it’s not with him”, you added, and regret flowed through your blood as soon as the words left your mouth. Loki’s eyebrow perked up, and you realized he was awake. He soon came back to his sleeping façade, and you rolled your eyes.

“So you have been waiting for him to invite you?”, asked Thor, expectant.

You dropped your ass on top of Loki, as if he was part of the couch, and he jumped up out of surprise.

“Excuse you?!”, he exclaimed, bothered. You rolled your eyes and got more comfortable.

“You’re excused. Did you know it’s impolite to eavesdrop?”.

Loki sighed and looked at his brother with impatience.

“Thor, you oaf. I don’t need you to be such a heartmatcher”, he growled the last word and something in your insides twisted and burned. Then, you realized you were very comfortably sitting on his lap. He didn’t say anything, so you just stayed there. “I can ask them out myself, just fine”.

“Oh, so you were going to ask me out?”, you smirked. “I thought the coffee thing was just to pleasure your mother’s wishes”.

He raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“As it happens, tonight my Mother will come too. And she will be expectant of me taking you as my… ahem, date of sorts”, he blushed slightly. “You know. Since we’re both going to Asgard”.

Your eyes shone with expectation.

“You’re coming with us?”.

“Why. Of course I am, darling”, he said as if it were obvious. Then, he took in a breath of air and readied himself to say the words. “I truly would be delighted if you accepted to come with me to this party, too. You know I care for you”.

You sat there in silence, too stunned to move, and you must have made no facial expressions at all, as Loki’s face fell in embarrassment as time went by and he didn’t get any kind of answer.

Thor, on the other hand, had sat on the opposite couch and stared at the two of you as if it were a rom-com of some kind. He was sure you’d accept, so Thor was in no way as nervous as Loki felt when you gave him no answer.

“But, uh, why? Are you sure? I… I mean, if your Mother is gonna be there you might as well try to find a better date than me, for the looks… like…”, you began stuttering once again. Loki chuckled and denied with his head. He took advantage of your closeness to him and surrounded his arms on your shaking body. Staring into your eyes, he said,

“I can’t find a better date than you. Are you coming or not?”.

His gravel voice made his words weigh in your chest even more, and that thing that turned around in your stomach was now set on fire and making you evaporate. He was a charming man.

“If you’ll have me, then yes, I’d love to be there”, you muttered and hid your face.

That embarrassment that had gotten you so peckish about the night prior disappeared as soon as you stepped out of your room, ready to pick up Loki from the compound’s library.

Loki, on the other hand, found his overconfidence vanishing as soon as he saw you walk through the library’s gates in your… not working attire.

“Well, you look… wonderful”, he gasped out, closing his book with a loud thud. You chuckled and made a little reverence.

“Your Highness”.

“Let us go to drink our body weight in liquor, shall we?”, he extended an arm.

His clothes were nowhere near an asgardian suit of armor, as you imagined they would be. On the contrary, a black suit with a dark green satin tie made him look like the true Prince he was, but with some more down-to-Earth undertones. His hair was messily tied in a low bun with a golden and thin hair tie. You couldn’t help the dreamily sigh that escaped you when he looked at you with his intense gaze.

You took his arm and nodded enthusiastically.

That night, Loki took you to the dance floor a couple of times. He swirled you around and you laughed until your bellies hurted. You had your good share of alcohol and started feeling increasingly more and more lightheaded and sleepy.

Loki introduced you to his Mother, and she seemed to be ecstatic to meet you. That, of course, only inforced the idea ingrained in your brain that that mark on your skin was the indicator of something greater bounding you to her son.

But whatever it was, be it the alcohol flooding through your veins, the heat of the moment, the fun you were having at the party, or the almost desperate need you had to know more about whatever made Loki so inclined to be near you ever since you’ve met him —or rather, ever since you threw hot coffee at him—, you felt yourself more and more confident to lean in and ask him for what you craved every time you looked up at his soft lips.

“Loki”, you whispered. He didn’t need to look down at you, he already had his eyes on yours, shining with happiness.

He felt so full of life that night, and he was sure it definitely wasn’t the Asgardian liquor. It had much more to do with your intoxicating perfume, the warmth of your body dancing against his, your fingers threading the hairs of the nape of his neck as he guided you through the dance floor with gentleness.

“My love”, he whispered back. He admired your eyes wrinkle with a wide smile and your cheeks warm up a little more.

“Hunch over a little. I want to kiss you”.

His heartbeat jumped in place and he felt an entire drum orchestra on his chest. He got himself together quite quickly, despite his fervent desires. Hunch to kiss you, he did not, but he got closer to your cheek and left a chaste kiss.

“You’re too drunk”, he whispered with a smirk.

“But I want it”, you whispered back, “you have my enthusiastic consent!”.

He laughed shortly and elegantly, and you frowned, still with a smile on your lips. You couldn’t stop smiling around him, it was crazy.

“Get some rest tonight”, he said, leaving another kiss on your temple, and added with the lowest growl he could muster —perfectly knowing the effect it had on you—, “and come collect tomorrow”.

Loki was very entertained by the book he was reading. Not that he hadn't been before —midgardian literature, if searched well, ended up surprising him greatly. But this time, he found himself lost in between the pages of a book that rested over his nightstand.

He knew, of course, you were reading it. He had all the clues —it was also your nightstand, right?— and even a bookmark with a quote in your handwriting laid happily midbook.

Loki had a plan.

He read up until where the bookmark was, while you were working on Stark's lab. He didn't think he'd enjoy it as much as he did; it certainly was a bonus.

When you finished work, you got to the room tiredly and tossed yourself on the bed, right by him. You groaned in exhaustion and Loki chuckled, helping you off of your lab coat and threading his fingers through your hair.

"Hi", you muzzled your face against the blankets and made yourself a ball right by Loki's stretched legs.

"Hello", he said, laying on his side, forming a body cocoon around you. You hugged his waist and hid your face on his chest. "Second week and so tired, already?", he teased. You pinched his side lightly and laughed.

You stayed silent and then hugged him tighter, breathing in the scent of his thin sweater, smelling of soap and night. His heartbeat thrummed on his chest, as always. Maybe not always, maybe just when you were so close to him.

You peeked at him, and he looked at you back. His eyes wrinkled with smile. You mimicked him. He was so smiley lately. You liked it more than you wanted to admit.

"I don't want to sleep yet", you murmured. He was so close, your noses almost touched. Resting your forehead on his, you made some sort of a purr as soon as his hand traveled to the nape of your neck and caressed it gently.

He was so gentle.

"You need to rest, our trip is tomorrow… I could read to you, yes?", he whispered. His low and raspy voice resonated on his chest, you felt it with your fingertips. "That book you were reading".

"That?", you pointed at it with your chin. He nodded. "But you don’t know what happened before".

"I got to chapter sixteen, maybe you can tell me what happens in the next two and then I'll be updated", he winked. You laughed and kissed his forehead.

"Aren't you just the sweetest".

"You're possibly the only one who thinks that around here", he chuckled while incorporating himself in bed, spreading his legs for you to use them as a pillow.

He reached for a strand of hair and uncovered your face. You smiled.

"I wonder why I think that", you said, and he sighed dreamily. You lowered your voice, and whispered, “you know… you still owe me something from that party”.

“Ah, I said I can’t kiss you when you’re drunk”, he teased. “And you’re inebriated with work, right now”.

You laughed and pulled him over. His lips glided against yours sweetly, not repressing the smile forming at the corners. The kiss deepened as his arms surrounded your back in a tight hug and pushed you against him even further. You tangled your fingers on his hair. You kissed until you were out of breath.

He rested his forehead on yours and your face burned.

“Read to me, love?”.

Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson @theaudacitytowrite @bi-andready-tocry @alorev @justasmisunderstoodasloki @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @theetoastyghosty @lokiprompts @sarahpaq08 @lostgreekgod @likeitloveitblogit @tsnelf7 @asgardwinter @lalalalokii @notmesimpingforanothabritishlad @xorpsbane

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vivianwritesstuff · 2 years

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Break It Up - preview

Summery -

Life takes a turn for the worse and leaves you alone to deal with the after math.

[soulmate!au, poly bcuz we can, slow burn, angst all the way, tw - self harm, suicide idealization, anxiety, depression, substance abuse, addiction, etc.]

[chapters are currently under progress and will take time to update as i still have other wips to work on]

They were everywhere.

Wherever you went, all you could see was them. Whether it was that cafe around the street, or your office, or even while you tried out clothes at JC Penney while they had an end-of-season sale.

Every phone, social media platform, television, laptop - all platforms of technology was enamored by them and what they represented.

Heroes.

That’s what the world saw.

And that’s how you wish you could see them as.

It wasn’t easy; moving out of their lives and living on your own after so long. It wasn’t easy, trying to move on. It wasn’t easy.

Nothing was easy without them.

But you needed time. You needed to tend to the wounds your soul had to bear throughout the years. You needed to heal from the pain you’ve locked away.

You needed to feel again, even if it scared you.

Your life was so empty; you hadn’t realized how you’ve given up all of the things just so you could focus on your partners. ‘However, no time like the present to begin anew, right?’, you thought glibly, as you typed away in the empty spreadsheet on the computer screen.

So, you signed up for hobby classes - pottery, yoga, guitar lessons - anything to kill the time with. You even decided to went to one of those anonymous groups to get rid of your cigarette-addiction - twice a week.

Many would say you’re changing. Improving, even. You’d like to beg to differ.

You’re just trying to survive. Existing in a vast world with possibilities you had overlooked for only one outcome you wanted. And now, you’re forcing yourself to make peace with all that you have lost.

Days pass by the same. The sun rises and it sets. Night falls, and so do you. Tears are shed into the confines of your bed. Bloodshot eyes look at the world in a dim light and wonders if being alive was so great after all.

But then again, you wouldn’t get to meet the dogs in the park, or listen to your favorite songs while you cooked or cleaned in your kitchen, or read novels by your favorite authors, if you had decided to give up.

You’re breathing and it’s okay if you’re slow.

You remind yourself as you navigate the streets of New York in September. The air is already tinged with the smell of autumn and fallen leaves. Warm hues of orange, red and yellow fill your vision and makes your heart sing in contentedness. The bakeries smell of bread and pumpkins and spice. The soft heat of the dusking sun is a welcome surprise on your cold skin. Scrolling through your phone mindlessly, you stumble upon an unchecked message sent three hours ago. And that message ruins whatever little fantasy you have deluded yourself into living.

Sent at 13:32

By Unknown

Y/N

This is Gemma here.

Nana is no more.

#mcu #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #soulmate au #steve rogers x reader #wanda x y/n #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x christine palmer #tony stark x reader #avengers angst #loki x you #loki x reader #🌂.mcu

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fanatic-writers · 1 year

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Gods and Monsters: Sneak peak

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Unedited drabble of sorts, minor character death but its to be expected

A/n: This is a bit short but I figured I would start off with something smaller. I have some more things planned with this story but wanted to kind of start off by giving just a little intro and sort of background to everything before I really got into some more detailed events between the characters. Also in case it isn’t clear this is a soulmate!AU where you have your soulmate’s and your enemy’s initials written on you but you don’t know which is which. - G

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Y/n never really felt like she belonged anywhere. Her parents didn’t want her and it wasn’t until a certain Agent Coulson found her that she felt like anyone really cared for her. Even then, she was so used to people leaving her that she tried not to get to close. Y/n had a halfway decent life until she turned about 11. Her uncle had taken her in, and sure he could be rough, but at least there was food on the table and a roof over her head. That was until she began to get migraines more and more often. For her uncle it wasn’t the migraines though, not really, it was the power that came with them. It was the idea that his niece could manipulate him into feeling anything she wanted, not that Y/n knew that. She was more focused on getting through school and getting the hell out of dodge. Unfortunate, she wouldn’t really have the chance to. By the time she was 13 he had had enough of her unintentional empathy and had kicked her out onto the streets. A few years later Coulson had found her. She had convinced herself back then that eventually he would leave her too. That had been ten years ago and, despite how hard she tired, Coulson grew on her. The agent had given her a home, training, education, hell he was the reason she had a job right now.

“I don’t even know why you want me, we agreed a long time ago that my powers don’t exactly make me exceptional out on the field.” Y/n sighed as she looked to Phil who was telling her about some Avengers initiative program he and Fury were working on.

“They make you perfect for interrogation though.” Coulson hummed as he looked to the girl that he considered to be his daughter at this point

“I’m not just some lie detector Coulson.” She huffed

“No, you have other useful skills.” Coulson moved to sit next to her. “All I’m saying is give it a chance alright? Its not going to be something we put into action anytime soon-“

“You just want me to be on call.” Y/n deadpanned

“Maybe, or maybe I want you to finally have an excuse to meet Captain Rogers.” Coulson smiled

Y/n looked down at her hands, her hand absentmindedly rubbing over the small S.G.R. that was inked into her flesh between her thumb and pointer finger. “You are aware of how many people with his initials there are.” She frowned

Y/n had given up on finding her soulmate a long time ago. With everything that she had been through she doubted he’d want her anyway. Hell, whoever they were would probably think she was manipulating them into loving her anyway. She wasn’t even sure if anyone could truly love her if she was honest.

“Besides, for all you know S.G.R. could be my arch nemesis.” She shot him a small smirk

“Well if you manage to be the lucky girl that gets to have Captain America represented in a soulmark I can’t imagine it would be for bad reasons.” Coulson hummed as he passed her the file. “Just think it over, if we really need to use the Avengers I’ll give you a call, ok?”

“Fine.” Y/n sighed as she took the docent and began to flip though it. Coulson, satisfied with himself, left her room.

A few months later she agreed to join the team and a couple months after that the initiative was called into action. She made her way to the helicarrier, one of the first to arrive. Everything she needed was already there as Coulson had always made sure to take care of her. She spotted a man in a plaid shirt looking out into the water and figured it was best to get introductions over with. She walked to a spot beside the man and cleared her throat.

“You must be the famous captain.” Y/n hummed as she looked to the acclaimed hero beside her

“And you must be Y/f/n Y/l/n.” Steve smiled as he turned and looked down at the girl

“Coulson?” She asked

“Coulson.” He confirmed

She just nodded in response, staying silent for a moment. He reached his hand out to her and she shook it. She looked to his hand and noticed that her initials were inked into his skin just as hers were.

“Guess I owe him 20 bucks.” She sighed, taking a deep breath as she looked up at him for the first time. She couldn’t deny that he was absolutely breathtaking. The perfect vision of American beauty. He wasn’t exactly her type, but she’d heard enough about him to know he was a nice guy.

She was drawn from her thoughts by Steve’s breathy chuckle. “Hopefully that’s not a bad thing?” he raised a brow “What I mean is, if you don’t want to act on this we don’t have to. We can get to know each other, take things slow?”

“I think I’d like that.” She agreed before the two were pulled away from their conversation by some more newcomers.

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The battle of New York was one of the worst days of Y/n’s life. She wasn’t necessarily a superhero when it came to strength and agility, and she was definitely no Black Widow. The effect it had on her body was the least of her worries though. She had lost the one person that she had ever believed cared about her. When Loki had killed Phil Coulson her suspicions about the L.L. written on her ankle being her enemy was confirmed. She would never be able to forgive anyone for hurting what little family she had. Throughout everything Steve had stayed by her side. Even when he certainly didn’t have to. He had every excuse to just leave once the battle was over but he made an effort to come visit her as much as he could.

Y/n had to admit she was growing quite fond of the soldier. She was everything he could’ve hoped for in a soulmate. He cared for her, he was understanding of her powers, and he gave her the space she needed while still being there for her. Even if things seemed off every now and then she made a vow to make an effort, she knew that’s what Coulson would’ve wanted for her.

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A/n: Again sorry its short but I hope to keep working on things! -G

#steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #steve x reader #marvel #marvel reader insert #avengers au #steve rogers #Captain America x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #Loki #Loki x reader #Are the tags spoilers?#Idk man...#thats for you guys to find out #avengers soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate au #loki laufeyson soulmate au

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thatmarvelobsessedteen · 10 months

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" My soulmate" on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/309913064?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=Nutria_Nerei&wp_originator=fEhUs4faRhqTGzyDfzQ%2B5tREYz2bUhEJDQjvBEKHqUkKisAAvmAr9FjcMAcLNut7Y%2BESodBMtb%2FqiS6ZkSFDdI6x1%2BAPqF0yW%2BEzLqofzkRRtTEZ0CZpBF45ADkhLdXE

This is a story I wrote, it's a Loki x reader soulmate au. Ren, character the reader represents, is a girl from our world big fan of the avengers that gets thrown into the marvel universe.

#loki x you #loki fanfic #loki friggason #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #loki soulmate #loki soulmate au #jotun loki x reader #loki x reader #fem reader

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cleo-fox · 8 months

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Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky.

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core.

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature.

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter.

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long.

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss. He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction

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falling-endlessly · 3 months

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Masterlist:

A heads up:

1. Not taking requests

2. No set update schedule

3. This blog contains 18+ content

Hazbin Hotel:

Teknologik (Vox x Bisexual!Vaggie) —Multi-chapter

Summary: Vaggie is a newly fallen soul in hell. In a strange twist of fate, she manages to get tangled up with the infamous TV demon—and now, he won't leave her alone.

The Lesson (Vox x Reader) —One shot

Summary: Vox comes home to find you lying in a pool of your own blood.

Adoption of Vark (Vox x Reader) —Drabble

Boomerang (Vox x Female!Reader) —Multi-chapter

Summary: When Vox proves incapable of cutting Valentino out of his sex life despite his many reassurances, you decide to break it off with him and leave for good. He doesn’t take it so well.

Try Me (Vox x Female!Reader) NSFW (18+) —One shot

Summary: You still have a few lessons to learn when it comes to teasing your boss.

The Finer Things in Death (Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader—One shot

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Loki (TV series):

The Lazy Eight (Loki x Female!Original Character) —Drabble

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 8 months

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Trope De Sept Masterlist

Hi friends! In celebration of me hitting a major follower milestone, I'm going to be posting 17 new fics in September inspired by common tropes. (It has to be 17 because dix-sept in french is 17 and it's Trope de/dix Sept. Get it? Huh? No? Just me?)

First one will go up September 1st and I'm hoping to post the rest every M, T, Th, F and a few sporadic ones sprinkled in there. Please only interact with fics labeled SMUT if you are 18+ and have your age listed on your blog, or I will block you. Read all warnings in the individual fics. Schedule subject to change.

All work is my own. I currently only post on Tumblr. Please do not repost anywhere else or translate without my consent.

My Main Masterlist

Trope de Sept Masterlist

Fake Dating (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Proposal Gone Wrong (Sam Wilson x Reader)

The Morning After (Frank Castle x Reader) SMUT

Hallmark Special (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Song Fic (Bucky Barnes x Reader) SMUT

Misunderstood Breakup (Frank Castle x Reader)

Bodyguard AU (Billy Russo x Reader) SMUT

Enemies to Lovers (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Sleeping Love Confession (Loki x Reader)

One Bed (Steve Rogers x Reader) SMUT

Soulmate AU (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Sex Pollen (Bucky Barnes x Reader x Frank Castle) SMUT

The Snap (Frank Castle x Matt Murdock)

Secret (Frank Castle x Reader)

Crossover (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Five Things Fic (Frank Castle x Reader)

Car Sex (Matt Murdock x Reader) SMUT

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agent-tempest · 1 year

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My favorite fanfics!

Loki Friggason [Marvel]

Dancing in the dark (with you between my arms) by @holymultiplefandomsbatman [Fluff]

Paper rings by @cherryrogers [Pure fluff]

Back in your arms by @sarahscribbles [starts angsty but happiest fluffiest ending]

Remus Lupin [Marauders Era]

I don't want them. I want you by @theemporium [Fluff, Marriage, Drunk!Remus]

You are in love by @starstruckmoony [fluff]

Red by @jamespottersdaisy [Banter, fluff]

Gold Rush by @jamespottersdaisy [pure fluff]

Hiccups and hijinks by @dreaminginpastels [Plus-size!Reader, fluff, mutual pining, mentions of insecurity and self-doubt]

Jealous Prof!Reader by @turvi [Fluff, wife!Reader]

Let me help by @jamespottersdaisy [bad mental health, eating disorder?, angst]

Remus saying "I love you" to the for the first time by @theemporium [xReader, pure fluff]

Remus taking care of Drunk!Reader by @theemporium [Potter!Reader, Drunk!Reader, Soft Remus]

Remus being soft only with reader near fullmoons by @lizard-onawindowpane [Pure fluff]

Calm after the storm by @earthgirl616 [enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds]

Pinky Promise by @jamespottersdaisy [Pre and Post Moon!Remus, Remus and reader have a fight]

Our Band Part 1 Part 2 by @wzrd-wheezes [Marauders Band AU, Barista!Reader]

Kaz Brekker [Grishaverse]

Deadly fever by @webslinger-holland [mentions of severe illness, mentions of traumatic childhood, mentions of needles and bloodletting]

Book Club by @rainydaymiscellaneous [fluff, Kaz is in love]

There was this boy... by @mcntsee [Fluff]

Schon by @mcntsee [Kinda ooc Kaz, kaz is ok with y/n’s touch. Stabbing, blood, killing]

Peter Parker [TASM]

Worth Saving by @fettuccin-e [Hurt/Comfort]

Sirius Black [Marauders Era]

I think he knows by @theemporium [potter!reader, fluff, James being a Mood]

Words that slip through by @padfootagain [Fluff, tiny bit of Angst(?)]

For your family by @padfootagain [Fluff, Arrange marriage trope, Soulmate au]

Forced by @sirisuorionblack [Fluff, Arrange Marriage trope, toxic household]

Sirius wants a hug, but doesn't know how to ask by @gtgbabie0 [Fluff, touchstarved Sirius]

Everything has changed by @once-upon-an-imagine [Fluff, Lupin!Reader, Jilly Wedding]

Sirius being jealous of a cat by @theemporium [fluff, jealous!Sirius and *in steve's voice* Language]

A cozy rainy night with Sirius by @theemporium [pure fluff]

James Potter [Marauders era]

Stop flirting with the nurse, it's embarrassing by @perpetuallydaydreaming [Fluff, Siri & Pete being melodramatic]

First Impressions by @jackie5656 [Fluff, Descriptions of assault and attempted assault]

Just to Kiss by @chrryhrt [Frat!James x Reader, Idiots to lovers, friends to lovers, small mention of alcohol]

Regulus Black [Marauders era]

Coward by @sirisuorionblack [Hurt/comfort, Arrange marriage trope, acedemic rivals]

Moon Boys [Moon Knight, Marvel]

Jake Lockley- Cucumber face mask and fist of vengeance by @wysteria-clad [Fluff]

Jack Lockley- dlz by @ichorai [Angst, mild fluff, marriage au]

Marc, Steven and Jake- Clumsy by @marvelsswansong [fluff]

Marc, Steven and Jake- Secret Identities Part 1 Part 2 by @bensolosbluesaber [Fluff, reader is an Avenger]

Benedict Bridgerton [Bridgerton]

Matchmakers by @siempre-bucky [fluff]

Not for him by @iwritefandomimagines [Platonic!Anthony playing matchmaker, Fluff, slight angst]

Second son by @fayes-fics

Druig [Eternals, Marvel]

Druig x Reader by @siempre-bucky [fluff]

Stephen Strange [Marvel]

July 19th by @frostandflamesfanfic [Fluff, Strange being a dad to America]

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holdmytesseract · 8 months

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A Spell To Break?

model!Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: When you have to witness Tom posing with another woman for a sexy perfume photoshoot, your insecurities are kicking in...

Warnings: thirst, angst, insecurities, swear words, fluff

Word Count: 4,3k

a/n: I couldn't help myself but to write a part three for this lil' series/AU. 👀 I had an idea and well... This is the result. I hope y'all enjoy it! 😁

Divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th <3

Tagging: @lulubelle814 @km-ffluv @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @mochie85 @chantsdemarins @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vanilla-daydreaming @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @evelyn-kingsley @the-princess-of-loki @acefeather2002 @chokeanddagger @smolvenger

°☆• Masterlist •☆° Hiddles Masterlist •☆°

Here's part one and part two of the model!Tom series. This can be also read as a stand-alone fic.

(Credits for the pic goes to @multifandom-worlds )

The day had started so good. Better than the most days. You woke up early - but in your boyfriend's arms, had a nice breakfast, three wonderful photoshoots that morning, and the coffee machine wasn't broken. That was how every work day should be supposed to go. It was a perfect day - until after your lunch break. That was when the dream started to turn in a nightmare...

You had one photo shooting left for the day. A very huge photo shooting, to say the least... A perfume ad - and it was for none other than 'Dolce & Gabbana'. Yes, no joke. After you had landed the Calvin Klein job almost two years back, quite a few other big shoots followed. 'Dolce & Gabbana' was the fifth one this year - and it was July...

And not just that... Quite a few things had changed within those two years. You still worked with your best friend Sam - but she had promoted you and suddenly, you owned this little company as well; were the second boss. Beside that, you had found your soulmate and were in a very happy relationship. Remember that handsome lad with the tattoos and piercings, Tom Hiddleston? The newcomer in the model business? Exactly. You two were a thing now - a big thing.

All in all, you could say that the Calvin Klein photoshoot had turned your life upside down - in the best way possible.

You were in the studio now, setting everything up for the said perfume ad. A green screen, small wind machine and your camera, of course. The clothes your models were supposed to wear, laid perfectly folded on the little table in the corner. Sam had forwarded you the email of 'Dolce & Gabbana's management, so you knew what they wanted and what the setup should be. They didn't want anything super special, but it was definitely... spicy and sexy. A couple on a stony beach, with the sea and waves in the background. Wet hair and clothes; paired up with intimate poses.

You were totally lost in adjusting the camera and tripod, when you suddenly felt two muscular arms sneaking around your waist; big, gentle hands crossing in front of your tummy. You couldn't help but flinch at first at the sudden contact, but when you saw the beautiful, black inked flowers wove around the strong arms embracing you, you relaxed immediately. "Tommy?" You asked; giggling like a schoolgirl, as you felt his lips on the exposed skin of your neck. "What are you doing here?" You heard a deep chuckle rumbling through your boyfriend's chest. "Your humour is truly something else, darling." Uhhh, okay… Now you were a bit confused.

Frowning, you turned in Tom's embrace, hands landing on his white t-shirt clad pecs. His beautiful smile greeted you instantly; alongside those stunning baby blues. "My... My humour? Tommy, I'm afraid I can't follow you at the moment." Tom's expression changed at your words; eyebrows slanting. "Baby, I think we are talking past each other. You asked me, why I'm here. I thought you made a cute, little joke. I'm here because of you." You blinked, "Because of me?" before your cheeks turned red. "You are visiting me at work? Awww, cutie pie, that's so sweet of you!" Tom giggled, but shook his head. "No, darling. I'm here because you booked me for this photoshoot."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, what? No, I... I didn't book you for this photoshoot. I booked a couple, 'cause the management of 'Dolce & Gabbana' asked for it, so I booked Nicky and Tessa. Not you." Tom was visibly confused now as well. "What? But... But Luke told me I was booked for this photoshoot. Perfume ad. 'Dolce & Gabbana'. And since you were listed as the photographer, I didn't ask further."

Your frown deepened. "That's quite a bit quaint and... strange. Something definitely went wrong." Tom shrugged his shoulders; tongue darting out to wet his lips, bringing his tongue piercing on full display. "Perhaps it was a misunderstanding?" "Could be, yes. But that doesn't answer the question who booked you. Clearly, I didn't, the management neither and Luke had nothing to do with it as well. Who booked you th-"

You weren't able to finish your sentence. The thud of the wooden door to the studio closing shut cut you off. High heels click-clacked over the floor; announcing another person's arrival. And then her voice cut through the air. A voice you hoped you'd never hear again. Not after everything that happened.

"I did. He is here, because I wanted him to be here." Instantly - like struck by lightning, you let go of your boyfriend; eyes landing on the woman with blonde hair, leather skirt and skintight red top; looking as arrogant and tarted up as always...

Ivy. Your former high school best friend. Emphasis on former.

Back in school, you were like the yin and yang to each other. Soulmates. Inseparable. Now? Now you were not even close to what once was. Now, you were enemies. Why? Well...

It all started with you both sharing the dream of becoming a professional photographer. You followed this dream together. Bought your first professional camera together. Applied to various photo studios together. You encouraged each other. Always. For years. At some point, Ivy decided to switch to the model business instead - a decision you supported wholeheartedly. Since both your jobs were quite similar, you kept on helping each other to reach your goals - until that one particular day...

You didn't really know where you both took the wrong path, but suddenly, Ivy distanced herself more and more from you. She became bitter, harsh and especially jealous. Perhaps because you landed a big job first, but who knew? You spent endless nights awake; pondering about why things went as they did. Why you were losing your best friend. What mistake you made to get the ball rolling. You didn't know. You just didn't know. It ate you up inside. So, you decided to confront her - which caused things to escalate and get even worse. You walked in that conversation with the hopes of you and Ivy reunite as best friends. Instead, you walked out as enemies. She hurt you to the bones that day; called you unspeakable things and spat right into your face that you were nothing more than a millstone around her leg. With that, Ivy just moved on, but loved to give you absolute hell once in a while. It was exhausting, but it didn't stop you from reaching for your dream. And then you met Sam. She picked up all your broken pieces and puzzled them back together. She became your best friend - a true friend. Someone you could trust with your life.

They say time heals all wounds - but not the wound Ivy inflicted you. It was a scar so deep; bound to stay forever carved into your soul.

"I-Ivy? What... What are you doing here?!" The blonde-haired woman gave you a spiteful smirk. "What do you think, silly? I'm the female model for this photoshoot." Your face fell. "W-What? But... But that can't be! I booked Nicky and Tessa a-and-" Ivy cut you off with a high-pitched laugh. "Oh, you wish you did, sweetheart. I changed it. Well, my management changed it. They asked me to choose a male model as well and I chose Tom." Now you were even more speechless - and utterly angry. The problem was, that Ivy knew Tom - and Tom knew Ivy. She had casted an eye on your beautiful boyfriend a long time ago, and when he fell in love with you and the two of you got together, Ivy bursted with jealousy. In her eyes, you weren't worthy of the sweet, polite gentleman.

You were quite a bit bewildered and stood in front of your boyfriend and former best friend like an absolute fool. "I-I... B-But this was supposed t-to be a couple photoshoot. Dolce & Gabbana asked specifically f-for a couple..." Your former best friend faked a surprised gasp; "They, uh, wanted a couple for this photoshoot?" and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh... Whoopsies. My bad. I didn't know that. Sorry, bestie. In that case, Tom and I have to make it look very real."

A breathless gasp left your lips at her words and you had to fight hard against the rising bile in your throat. All of a sudden, you felt like absolute shit. She knew. She knew - and did this on full purpose. Only to get her filthy hands on Tom and torture you. What a bitch.

Another bitchy giggle left Ivy's lips. "You don't look well, Y/N. Perhaps you should call it a day, go home and let this photoshoot do someone who can stay professional." That was the point where Tom couldn't just stand by anymore. He had to intervene. And he did. He walked the few steps up to you and placed a comforting hand on the small of your back. The handsome Brit wasn't able to change the situation, but he was able to help you.

"Perhaps you should go and get changed already, Ivy. I'd like to have a moment alone with my girlfriend." Tom audibly underlined the last two words of his sentence, while pulling you closer towards him. Ivy just answered with a fake smile, then stalked past you and Tom; vanishing in the small side room.

"Darling..." Your boyfriend addressed you immediately, once Ivy was out of earshot and took your smaller hands in his bigger ones. "I am so sorry about this. If I would've known I-" You shook your head; interrupting him. "No, it's not your fault, Tommy. It's entirely her fault." "That may be true, but if I would've talked earlier with you about this, I could've prevented it from happening. Now, I'm afraid we both can't change this situation. But I can assure you that this photo shooting is going to be purely professional. I'll do what I have to do, but it won't change anything." You nodded; trying to look confident. Tom knew you better, though. He knew how insecure you were about yourself. Letting go of your hand, he lifted his up to gently cup your chin. "Hey... I love you, sweet girl - and you better know it." Once again you nodded; giving him a small smile. "Love you, too." Tom pressed a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips, before he left to the other side room, in order to get changed as well.

Once everyone was ready, the photo shooting could start. You tried your best to stay completely professional; block out everything around you. You'd pull through this shooting like every other shooting - and you did. At some point, you were so focused, that you didn't see your boyfriend and ex best friend standing in front of you and posing together for a quite spicy perfume ad. You saw two clients; doing what they should do, in order to get the job done.

At this point you were confident to believe that you had tricked your mind and dodged Ivy's attempt to fuck you up. Little did you know, that everything would come back at you later...

It had gotten quite late. The photoshoot had taken more time than you had expected. After cleaning up the whole studio and sending Sam home, you decided to edit the photos you had just taken. You wanted to get over with it and move on.

Being still completely convinced of the strong wall you had built up around you, you sat down at your desk, connected the memory card to your computer and opened the program. When the first picture of Tom and Ivy came up, the walls came immediately tumbling down. It was the moment you realised, that these walls had been anything but strong; rather consisted of paper and not solid stone.

It was also the moment it dawned on you, that your mind couldn't be tricked. It had just tricked you into believing you had. How foolish, you thought of yourself. How fucking foolish.

With that, the damage was done. It got the stone rolling - and you wouldn't be able to stop it. You knew it. Your mind had you trapped now, and the bad thoughts - all your insecurities came crashing down on you; invading your system like poison. Every look on each picture hurt you more - and destiny had chosen one of the worst ones to start with...

It had been a picture you had taken towards the end. Scenery: Tom and Ivy were both wet; clothes absolutely drenched with water. Ivy wore nothing more than a scarce, white bikini; showing off everything she got - and Ivy got a lot. Way more than you did...

Tom wore a tight, white tank top, which literally clung to his chest, but also showed off his tattoos and especially nipple piercings. His hips and legs were clad in jeans dungarees - close to those who mechanics wore, but with the straps dangling loosely around his thick, muscular thighs. Of course, they were also wet. Water droplets ran down the skin of his neck, face and arms, causing him to look even sexier.

Ivy wasn't any less sexy. It was simply a fact. And the posture they were in didn't lack sexiness either. Quite the opposite...

Your former best friend stood in front of your boyfriend; literally clinging desperately to his wet body. Both her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, while they gazed each other deep in the eyes. Their heads were close; lips not far from touching. Tom's big hand was splayed out across Ivy's back; fingertips tantalisingly playing with the knot who held her bikini top together. It was perfect - and you hated it. Sure, you had told them to posture like that, 'cause 'Dolce & Gabbana' described something along that, since they had a TV ad which was similar, but nevertheless... It fucked with your brain. And the other pictures on which they were free to posture how they wanted weren't any better... Ivy being as close to Tom as somehow possible; always literally eye fucking him with her lusting gaze and touching him in places only you thought you were supposed to touch him. In one picture her hands were close to his ass - you could tell. Or in another, she was touching his pecs and six pack. Hence, she even had her hands in his hair once.

Watching all the pictures you had taken; it came all crashing down on you. But it wasn't jealousy, who poisoned and fogged up your brain, no... It were your insecurities who kicked in; causing you to fall down a deep, dark hole.

Seeing how utterly perfect Tom looked with a woman who was so much prettier and sexier than you could ever be, planted the toxic thought in your brain that you simply weren't good enough. Not pretty enough. Not sexy enough. Not smart enough. Not loveable enough. You were just you. And being just you didn't apply to Tom's standards. He was out of your league - by miles. What is he doing with a girl like me? you thought. He deserves someone better... Perhaps Ivy had been right all the time. You weren't worthy of such a handsome, loving and respectful man.

You clicked further through the pictures; tears starting to form in your eyes. Since you already were spiralling down that dark path, once thing was triggering another and fear joined the party. Fear of Tom leaving you. Why would he not? You're nobody, the voice in your brain whispered. He could get rid of you so easily. And he would. You were sure of it. One day, he was going to wake up and see. Tears trickled down your face by now, as emptiness spread within your stomach and radiating throughout your whole body, causing you to feel so utterly cold and lonely.

You had lost every sense of time, but you could tell that it was quite late. You didn't care, though. All you cared about was if you should leave Tom before he could leave you, or beg him on your knees to stay. Anyways… It was both pathetic...

By now, you had abandoned your computer and the pictures; said huddled in a corner of the little office and positively crying your eyes out.

Tom, who had waited for you at home for way longer than planned started to worry, of course. Always checking his phone and walking impatiently up and down in the cosy, little apartment you two shared. He got uneasy. You hadn't texted him and you also didn't pick up your phone. What if something happened? He decided to not just sit around longer. He couldn't. So, he grabbed the keys of his bike, alongside his leather jacket and helmet, and swung himself on the vehicle; riding straight to yours and Sam's photo studio.

When he arrived, he saw that no visible light was on in the building, giving him an even more uneasy feeling. The unlocked door didn't quite help. Quietly, he entered the studio; switching on the light. "Y/N?" No answer. "Sam?" No answer. He swallowed hard, but made his way through the studio; checking every room - which turned out to be either locked or neatly cleaned up; ready for the next day.

Tom's heart was literally beating out of his chest, as he went to check the last possible room you could be in... Your office. With a slightly shaking hand, he opened the door. The lights were out, but he could see that the computer was on and the only thing which casted a small ray of light through the darkened room, was the display of your camera - on which he recognised himself. Small, soft whines and whimpers could be heard, causing him to immediately switch on the light. And then he saw you. Curled up in a ball in the corner. Your body was shaking with sobs. Relieved, that he had finally found you, but nevertheless worried about the condition you were in, he literally threw his helmet aside and ran over to you.

"Y/N!" He said with relief; dropping to his knees beside you, "I thought something had happened to you! My texts stayed unanswered and whenever I called, you didn't pick up... Gods, I was so worried!" and immediately scooped you up in his arms. You let him hug you tightly for a few seconds, bathing in his embrace and how good he smelled, before your brain kicked in again and you started to push him away from you, leaving the handsome Brit confused.

Frowning, he pulled back - like you obviously requested and letting go of you. "Darling? What's wrong?" Tom tried to reach for your hands, put you avoided his touch. It confused him even more. "Love, what- Why are you crying? What happened?" You didn't answer him, but pushed yourself further against the wall in the corner; wrapping your arms around yourself and hiding your face. Your boyfriend tried to connect the dots; figure out what could be wrong - and suddenly it fell like scales from his eyes... The pictures. The photoshoot.

"Y/N..." He spoke your name with his deep, velvety - but hushed voice; addressing you gently. "Is this about the photo shooting I did with Ivy today?" Her name upon his lips caused the tears to fall even more. "Please... My love... Talk to me," the Brit literally begged; tongue playing nervously with his black labret piercing.

You looked then up at him; eyes swollen and red due to all the crying. "Don't... Don't call m-me that..." You whispered; shaking your head. "Don't call you what?" "L-Love... D-Darling..." "But why? You are my love and you certainly are my darling." You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head again. "'M not worthy." Your boyfriend frowned. "Not worthy?" You nodded, "Of your love. Of you." and shed another few tears. "You deserve someone better, Thomas." The way you rolled his full name over your tongue left a bitter feeling behind. It sounded so wrong to him.

"It's okay if you're going to leave me for a woman who is smarter. Prettier. I can't force you to stay. Even if I wanted to. You are free to go." The words caused a stinging pain to shoot through your heart, like you've been just pierced by a knife. Your whole body was shaking; trying somehow to compromise the heartbreak.

Unbeknownst to you, was Tom looking at you like he had just seen a ghost. He was literally speechless; couldn't believe what he had just heard. His heart ached and screamed; suffering with you. "Y/N... How... How can you say something like... like that?" He needed a moment to find his ability to speak again. Tom knew about your insecurities and fears and he had witnessed them playing with your mind more than once, but that... That was a whole other level. He had never seen you like that - and it shook him to the core.

"Why should I ever leave you? I-" You interrupted him. "Because you can't waste your time on me!" "Waste... Waste my time on you?" That was it. He needed to stop this. Shaking his head and reaching out his hands, he slowly lifted your chin with his fingers, before he cupped both your cheeks; gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "Y/N..." He spoke - again, in that deep, velvety voice, which lulled you easily to sleep at night; having such a calming effect on you. "Look at me, please." You did what he asked you to and looked up into his baby blues - which were clouded with tears.

"My sweet, beautiful girl... I'd never... NEVER waste my time on you. Neither would I ever leave you. I don't want somebody else. I don't need somebody else. All I ever wanted is you." Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously as you spoke up again. "But-" "No, my love..." Tom interrupted you this time, before you were able to say something bad about yourself again. "Please listen to what I have to say. Don't listen to the voices in your head. They are wrong. I am not out of your league. You are out of my league. When I walked through that studio door, down the hall for the very first time and saw you there, I couldn't believe my eyes. I had never seen such beauty before. You literally swept me off my feet - and definitely not just with your good looks. You are beautiful from the inside and the outside. I had a hard time playing it cool."

You were still gazing in his eyes, listening to his every word. "It pains me thoroughly to hear how ill you speak of yourself, because you are the prettiest, smartest, sexiest, sweetest, kindest, funniest- Do you want me to keep going?" For the first time since hours darted a small smile over your lips. You couldn't help it. Tom noticed, of course. "Ah! I saw that, my love! I saw that!" He exclaimed like a happy little boy, who had just walked into a candy store.

He smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead. You felt the cool metal of his piercing on your skin. When he pulled back and gazed at you again, you saw that a tear was rolling down his cheek. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it hurts and I promise you, I'll never leave you. You are enough. You are more than I ever dreamed of." You nodded, trying desperately to believe him. "Are those voices quiet now?" "A-Almost..." He shook his head. "Now, now, we can't have that. I must eliminate them from your sweet, creative mind. I can't keep on letting them poison the woman I love and want to spend the rest of my life with."

Your heart literally skipped a beat at that sentence.

Tom leaned towards you again and kissed you repeatedly on the lips; whispering countless 'I love you's' in between - like a preacher a prayer in the church.

The voices in your head really disappeared and at some point, you broke out into giggles. "Tommy! I-" Kiss. "I need to-" Kiss. "Breathe!" Kiss. "I need to breathe!" Your boyfriend stopped then, chuckling softly and watching how you took a few deep breaths. "Was my mission successful?" You nodded; smiling up at him. "Voices gone?" "Voices gone." You shuffled; moved towards Tom and snuggled into his awaiting arms. "Thank you, Tommy... And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you and-" He interrupted you once more.

"Shush, baby. It's all good." He moved to sit on the floor beside you, then pulled you into his arms; making you sit onto his lap. Tom cuddled you close; not letting go. You accepted his touch and the comforting position; cuddled close and just enjoyed the moment.

"Did you feel that way because of the photoshoot?" Tom asked after a while. You nodded, "Uh.Huh. Seeing Ivy on those pics, having her hands all over you and giving you those 'Fuck me' eyes unleashed the insecurities in my brain." Your boyfriend nodded; interlacing your fingers with his. "I should've said no. I should've known..." You immediately shook your hand, "No, Tommy. You couldn't know. You did your job." and traced the tattoo on his arm with your free hand. "I just let Ivy get into my head..."

You felt how Tom's soft, warm lips pressed a sweet kiss against your temple. "Well, I won't let her do that again, baby."

#tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #model!Tom #tom hiddleston oneshot

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nyxlaufeyson · 4 months

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Doodles

Winter Masterlist - Loki Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

POV: Second

Ship: Loki x Reader

Type: Fluff, tiny bit of angst at the begining, bit of suggestive-ish content at the end

Info to know: This is a soulmate AU where anything your soulmate draws on their body shows up on you.

A/N: This my secret santa piece written for @catsladen!!! I hope you enjoy this piece, and happy holidays!!!

Loki had no idea how to tell you that he was your soulmate. It didn’t take long for him to figure it out once you showed up at the tower, but at first he just ignored it. He thought that soulmates were stupid, anyways, so he just didn’t say anything about it.

However, as he got to know you a bit better, he wasn’t as opposed to the idea of you being his soulmate. You were intelligent, beautiful, and best of all, not afraid of him. But while he was fine with it, he doubted that you would be. You might be friends with him, but surely you would be opposed to being more than that.

So he didn’t tell you. He wore long sleeves to cover up the little flowers, hearts, and spirals that you drew on yourself to conceal the fact he was your soulmate.

It was hard to conceal, especially on summer days, because you were always drawing on your arms. Ever the artist, which he admired about you. He could have used magic to conceal it, but to keep up a near-permanent spell altering his appearance would have been taxing. He still was not entirely sure how he normally appeared Asgardian instead of Jotun. Odin never told him. Plus, the little drawings made him happy.

While he didn’t acknowledge the fact you and him were soulmates, he still flirted with you. It was a harmless way to express affection in a way that might not tip you off. He was known to be flirtatious, so he could get things off his chest without you questioning it.

You would walk through the kitchen, in your workout clothes, sweaty from jogging or training. He would make a point to look you up and down, smirking. “You look delectable today, darling.”

He would send you a wink, and you would roll your eyes while you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and flipped him off on your way out.

Harmless fun was Loki’s outlet, but little did he know how it affected you. While you didn’t know that you and Loki were soulmates, you still harbored a massive crush on him. But his flirting came across as just playful banter between friends, which hurt you.

You were sure that if you mentioned your feelings to him, he would laugh at you. So, like him, you would lose yourself in flirtations.

Back and forth the two of you went, completely ignorant to the other’s pining. Innuendos, pranks, and flirtations built up tension so thick that you would need a star-forged sword to cut through it.

Everyone else in the tower noticed it, too. They just rolled their eyes and walked away when they walked in on you being lightly pinned to the fridge by Loki. The only people who didn’t notice the clear yearning were you and Loki.

The flirting was a regular routine. He would corner you against a wall, whispering something in your ear. You would act just a bit more sensually as you did workouts when he was around. He would flirt with other women to get you roused up. You would wear more revealing clothes to catch more attention from others, making him jealous.

Finally, one day, he got the courage to tell you about it. He set up a nice candlelight dinner and asked you to join him on the roof. When you did, you felt severely underdressed. You were in an everyday outfit, while Loki was wearing a suit.

Your face went a little red. “Oh, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to dress up.” You said, eyes trailing to the table beside him that was lit with candles.

Loki looked you up and down, getting nervous. “You weren’t.” He said, softly. “You look perfect as is.”

Something about his ‘flirting’ was clearly off today. It felt much more real to you, which put you on edge. Loki walked up to you, taking your hand, and seating you at the table. “So, uh, did you want to talk about something?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Yes, how about we eat first?” He gestured to the food laid out before you, lots of your favorites, and you agreed. It was paired with fine wine, which was greatly appreciated.

He had it all planned out. As usual, there were doodles on his arms, pictures that you had drawn on your own flesh. After you both finished eating, he took a deep breath, and took his suit coat off. Your eyes immediately recognized the drawings on his arms, and your breath hitched.

Was this some kind of cruel joke? You rolled up your sleeve, putting your arm up to his in comparison. Each doodle was there on his arm, exactly as you had drawn it on your’s.

“Loki, if this is some kind of joke…” You said, trying your best not to cry. Loki took your hand up in his, planting a gentle kiss.

His eyes poured into yours. “I assure you that it is not. I have known for a while, but I was scared of rejection, and didn’t know how to tell you. If you don’t wish to have me as your soulmate, though, I understand and I will-”

You laughed. The sound startled him, and he could see relief in your face. “If I don’t wish to have you? Loki, I’ve been in love with you for like ever! If anything, I was worried you wouldn’t like me.”

With this new information, Loki widened his eyes. Had he really been that blind? He brushed that away for now, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Darling, you are the most beautiful and exquisite creature to ever exist. No one could compare to your charm, and you have managed to help mend my broken heart.”

A single, happy, tear slipped down his cheek. “With you, I feel complete. I feel whole. I never believed in soulmates, but after meeting you, I do. I couldn’t imagine a life without you.”

You sat there for a moment, utterly stunned. When you collected your wits, you grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him in for a kiss. It was slow and sweet, but rapidly became more heated. You accidentally knocked your wine glass over, and it spilled all over you.

You broke away from the kiss, the cold wine dripping down your shirt and onto your chest. Loki smirked. “Well then, we should get back inside and get you changed. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we?”

The both of you abandoned the table and took the elevator down to your room. During the short ride down, Loki couldn’t keep his hands off of you, trailing kisses down your neck. “Oh, darling, you have no idea how long I have fantasized about this for…”

You were sure he was leaving marks, but you couldn’t care less. As soon as the elevator opened, Loki picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him, letting him carry you to your room. Luckily, you made it there without interruption, and Loki stumbled into your room, setting you down on the bed.

He locked the door, facing you and your dripping-wet shirt. “Now, let’s get rid of that shirt, shall we?”

Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

My taglist: @iceeericeee

#loki #loki fanfic #fanfic #marvel #loki fluff #loki friggason #loki laufeyson #loki oneshot #loki x reader #camiles secret santa #secret santa 2023 #writers event #loki writer event #loki/reader #loki/you #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction

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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 1 year

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Marvel Masterlist

Hey, hey! Welcome to my Marvel Masterlist!

Here is the link to my Main Masterlist and My Navigation

And my requests currently are CLOSED

And I no longer write for these characters or this fandom for personal reasons (I still enjoy the show, but I just don't read or write fanfics for it anymore)!

Last Updated On: 11|12|23

All Characters (MCU & XMEN)

Ghost of Them (🥀)

MCU

All Characters

Do They Give Good Hugs/How Often Do They Hug You (❤️)

The Avengers Reaction To You Slapping Them (❤️🤷‍♀️)

Morning Sweetheart (🥀)

I Once Asked If It Was Between Me and Him, Who Would You Choose?: Part 1 (🥀)

And They Chose Him: Part 2 (🌹)

I Killed Them (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Bucky Barnes

Embraces (🌹)

I'm Sorry (🌹)

They Forgot, But That's Okay (🌹)

Loki

All You Need Is Love (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

High? Hi (Gender Neutral Reader) (🤷‍♀️)

Just Sleep (🌹)

Loki Come Down (🥀✨)

You’re An Idiot, But I Love You (Trans-Male Reader) (🌹)

Got You (🌸)

Soulmate AU: Version 1 (🌹)

Soulmate AU: Version 2 (🌹)

Those Are Mine (🌸)

Hanahaki Disease AU (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Everything Changed (🌹🥀)

Being With Him Includes (❤️)

Another Life (🥀)

We'll Get Through (🌹)

I'm Lonely Without You (🌹🥀)

Stupid For You (🌹)

Soulmate AU (🌹)

Wait For Me To Come Home (🌹🥀✨)

You Tried (Peter’s POV) (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Peter's Reaction To The End of S7EP12 Of The Clone Wars (🌸)

Your House: Part 1 (🥀)

We Weren't Perfect: Part 2 (🥀)

I'm Happy For You: Part 3 (🌹🥀)

Unexpected (🤷‍♀️)

My Yellow (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

Here (Male Reader) (🌹)

Worst Couple (🥀)

Happy Halloween (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

I'm Fine (Stark!Reader) (🥀)

I Love You 10,000 (Stark!Reader) (🥀)

I'm Just--I Know (Stark!Reader) (🌹)

Hanahaki Disease AU (🌹)

Let Me Help (Stark!Reader) (🌹)

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)

He Just Did (🥀)

I'm Sick And Tired Of It All (🌹🥀)

Natasha Romanoff

Happy Birthday (Romanogers!Reader) (🌹)

I Love and Miss You (🥀)

Something Like That (🌸)

Pietro Maximoff

Hanahaki Disease AU (🥀)

Sam Wilson (No Longer Write For)

My Daughter? (🌹)

Steve Rogers

Soulmate AU (🌹)

Little Things That You Do That Steve Loves/Finds Cute (❤️)

I Thought You Left Me For Good (🌹🥀)

Happy Birthday (Romanogers!Reader) (🌹)

Hanahaki Disease AU (🤷‍♀️)

Something Like That (🌸)

Thor

I’m Sorry For Ignoring You (Male Reader) (🌹)

Tony Stark (No Longer Write For)

Hanahaki Disease AU (🌹🥀)

XMEN

All Characters

Do They Give Good Hugs/How Often Do They Hug You (❤️)

Liar! (🥀)

I Want To Go Back! (🥀)

It’s All My Fault (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

The X-Men’s Reactions To You Slapping Them (❤️🤷‍♀️)

Alex Summers (Havok)

Yeah, In A Cowboy Hat (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

Friends or Lovers? (🥀)

You're Jealous (🌹)

Take It and Go (🥀)

But You’re Not Mine (Gender Neutral Reader): Version 1 (🥀)

But You’re Not Mine (Gender Neutral Reader): Version 2 (🥀)

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

All So Sudden (🌹)

Early Morning Watch (🌹)

Hank McCoy (Beast)

You Weren’t The Only One! (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Jean Gray

I Love You (🌹)

Warmth (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

It's Okay Jean (Platonic!Reader) (🤷‍♀️✨)

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

You Are Doing Amazing (🌹)

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Thank You (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Everything Will Be Fine (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

5 More Minutes (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

All I Have Are Flashes (🤷‍♀️)

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nekoamamori · 7 months

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Masterlist

Updated 9/11/2023

Loki - multichapter:

Loki and the Witchling - You are a healer working with the Avengers when Loki comes to join the team

Loki’s Witchlings (direct sequel to Loki and the Witchling)

Packless Monsters - You’re a werewolf who ends up in the company of Loki in the Avenger’s tower after saving Pepper Potts’ life.

The Sound of Silence - A mute Enhanced and Loki both move in to the Avengers tower on the same day.

The Witch’s Familiar - You’re a witch working with the team.Thor brings Loki to live at the Avenger’s tower after the events in New York. Problem is, Loki is in cat form and refuses to change back.

Winter’s Hearts - You’re a half-Jotun Valkyrie who has to live with the Avengers after helping them during a battle. Then Thor brings Loki to join the team. Can either of you thaw your frozen bruised hearts?

Monsters and Magic - You’re a vampire who helps the Avengers defeat an evil seethe of vampires. Loki befriends you after you end up in their custody.

Soulbonds and Fairy Dust - One of the fae decides to help out the Avengers. But there is more to this aid than what it first appears.

Beauty and the Beast - Loki is trapped in Jotun form under a curse. Can blind Morgan Stark somehow be the key to helping him break it?

Exam Day - Imagine Loki walking you home after a long school day. - On hiatus

Giftless - You’re Tony Stark’s niece, living with the Avengers, but have no powers of her own. Loki, a former villain, joins the superhero team, claiming that he has reformed, but can he be trusted?

Gifted - Sequel to Giftless

Handcuffs - Imagine you get accidentally handcuffed to Loki

You Have Heart - Soulmate AU where the first words you hear your soulmate say are tattooed on your skin. The reader has the words “You have heart” tattooed on her and learns what those words mean when it’s Loki who says them.

Hidden Strength - During the battle of New York, Loki meets a remarkable young woman. What will happen when he meets her again while he’s serving penance on Midgard for his crimes?

Omega Mine - You’re an unclaimed Omega who comes to live and work in the Avengers’ tower due to your healing abilities and Omega qualities. You haven’t found your Alpha yet, but things start to change when you meet the mysterious Alpha and former villain: Loki.

Prince's Mate - Prince Loki of Asgard is expected to present as an Alpha. Things don't always end the way they're expected to, even before the Battle of New York makes things even more complicated

Loki x reader one shots:

Day at the Beach - The Avengers decide to take a day off at the beach.

Sick Little Jotun - Imagine when Loki is ill he shows his true form and is very insecure about it, but you comfort him

Imagine Braiding Loki’s Hair - Post mission with the avengers you get bored on the flight home and braid Loki’s hair.

Sleepless - Imagine not being able to sleep and wandering around in the Avengers Tower, but then Loki sees you and he reads you a book until you fall asleep in his arms and in the morning, the rest of the Avengers find you cuddling on the sofa.

Surprise - NSFW - Imagine Loki admitting he secretly enjoys being submissive and asking you to tie him up.

Loki and the Coffee - Loki messes with SHIELD’s coffee supply

Bored - NSFW - You’re Loki’s wife, Sigyn, and make the mistake of telling your husband that you’re bored one day. Though is it REALLY a mistake?

Heat - NSFW - Loki goes into a Jotun heat, and he’s absolutely terrified of what he might do to you, (Mortals being so fragile and all) so he does everything he can to protect you from himself

Prayer - NSFW - Imagine Loki can hear the prayers of his worshipers. And he decides to come answer yours in person.

The Ball - NSFW - Imagine Loki and Sigyn get bored at a feast on Asgard and decide to sneak off to enjoy each other instead

Shield’s Monster - NSFW - Imagine Jotun Loki in heat, chained to the wall in the basement because SHIELD don’t know how else to deal with him. You’re new, you go down, intrigued to see the ‘monster’ people are talking about. And you ‘accidentally’ set a really horny Jotun Loki loose…

Feels Like Death - Reader is on her period and miserable and Loki saves the day

Loki one shots:

The Courting of Lady Sigyn - Loki realizes he wants his friendship with Sigyn to become more

Too Much Mischief - NSFW - Sigyn gets called to teach her husband a lesson for causing too much mischief around the tower

Loki Other:

Of Numbers and Strange Friendships - Loki & Spiderman PLATONIC - Loki and Peter Parker somehow forge a friendship after one flippant comment. No one on the team quite understands how it happened. But it seems to do the god some good to have Peter as a friend.

Winter Soldier x OFC

Alpha and Omega - The Avengers rescue a werewolf from Hydra. Can she warm the Winter Soldier’s heart?

Captain America x reader:

Savior from Fangirls - Steve needs a date to a charity gala and you get voluntold to accompany him… despite of, or because of your crush

Friendly Face - You help Captain America as he’s fleeing from shield the day he wakes from the ice

Original works:

Child of Darkness - A vampire’s slave escapes and fights for her freedom.

Daughter of the Night (sequel to Child of Darkness)

Chosen - Shapeshifters are immune from becoming vampires. What will happen to Samantha when she suddenly finds herself Chosen?

#loki #fanfiction #loki odinson #Loki laufeyson

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cleo-fox · 1 month

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Conquer

Part 1 of 3

Summary: The king intends to take a bride.

You just never thought it would be you.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: I’m kind of fascinated by the concept of a soulmate AU where Loki wins and this is just another take on that thought. If you've read my fic Surrender, this one is a different universe (an AU of an AU? Is that a thing?)

I am indebted to @infinitystoner, who was kind enough to talk me through some of my doubts about this fic. This one is for you, K. (Also, everyone should go read her work, it's fabulous).

The king intends to take a bride.

At first you think it’s just a stupid rumor, but with time, it becomes clear that it’s not merely a stupid rumor, but a true rumor about a stupid plan. He hasn’t found his soulmate; the speculation is that this is about producing an heir or something similar. Which is also stupid because he’s the one who took over your fucking planet. He can make new rules for succession if he wants to. He doesn’t have to make other people suffer.

You, like most people, still harbor a lot of anger and resentment toward Loki.

You don’t know who he’s going to rope into this plan, but you feel bad for her already. Imagine not only having to be married to that monster, but being in this weird second place to whoever is unfortunate enough to be his soulmate. Imagine having to fuck him, to try and have his kid, all the while knowing you’ll be discarded once he finds his soulmate. Imagine having to go along with all of this and never being able to say what you really think.

The only person you feel sorrier for is whoever turns out to be his soulmate.

Later, all of this will strike you as absurdly ironic.

But you don’t know any of that yet.

You took a job at the hotel because you needed a change of pace after Loki took over. It was just a front desk job—you checked people in and out, answered questions, and said “let me get my manager” whenever there was a serious problem with a guest. It wasn’t glamorous or fun, but it was straightforward and you never had to bring work home with you.

The one thing that you never really considered was whether you were inadvertently choosing a job that would bring you into closer proximity to the man you were trying so desperately hard to not think about at all.

You probably should have considered it—you knew when you took the job that he did a fair amount of travel. You never really understood why—he conquered the entire fucking planet, you think he’d be content to just chill in his palace or whatever. But no. He was constantly on the move, constantly showing up and demanding to be accommodated, and people put up with it because what else are they supposed to do? You can’t exactly persona non grata the guy that successfully took over your planet and made himself king. If that worked, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

You kind of assumed that he wouldn’t show up to your hotel—it wasn’t conveniently located to anything useful and while it technically had a five star rating, you didn’t think it offered the same caliber of accommodations as the places he was known to stay.

As it turns out, you were wrong on all counts. Hilariously wrong. Because now his steward is here in your hotel lobby. Or his…emissary? You’re not sure what this guy’s official title is. You recognize him from the news—he can often be spotted in the entourage of guards and staff that accompany Loki everywhere, but you don’t know his name. He is rattling off a monologue of sorts—the king requires accommodations, only the finest rooms, and so on. You feel as though you are having an out of body experience as you click through the booking software and confirm that the penthouse is available. You breathe an inner sigh of relief—it would have been manageable to evict whichever rich person had booked it, but it would have fucked up the cleaning crew’s scheduling for at least the next week and you know that corporate is already up Marisol’s ass about your location’s overtime.

You don’t really expect him to show up during this transaction. If you had, you would have said “let me get my manager” and washed your hands of it—you don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with self-proclaimed kings. But as you are booking the room (who the fuck are you supposed to list as the guarantor on the invoice? This wasn’t covered in your training), Loki storms in, followed by a cadre of guards.

You’re not really prepared to see him in person—that’s partly why you freeze. He’s so tall and well…real. It sounds stupid, but it’s jarring seeing him in front of you instead of on a screen or in a picture. He’s not exactly more frightening, but looking at him makes your pulse quicken.

He’s scolding the steward (emissary?) about something—you’re so distracted that you miss exactly what it is that has him so annoyed.

And then you realize that the mark on your left wrist is burning.

You swallow hard. No. Not him.

Loki looks up and his eyes lock with yours.

Fucking hell.

The wedding is a spectacle, to say the least.

Your dress is fucking ridiculous. Instead of the traditional white, you are draped in yards of green fabric covered in thousands of emeralds and diamonds and painstakingly embroidered with thread made of real gold and silver. It is very much a statement about who you are and who you belong to. You don’t care for it, but you don’t really have a choice—the details of the ceremony have been largely left to other people to decide. Part of you thinks they must have been planning for this for years, based on the number of things that are already prepared. Or maybe having access to magic negates the need for planning ahead.

You are much too angry to actually ask Loki about any of this. Not that you see much of him before the ceremony anyway.

You go through the motions of the ceremony, trying to keep your cool. It’s only been a week since he found you at the hotel, so the fact that you haven’t consummated your soulbond is more akin to an annoying itch than anything more disruptive, but when he kisses you at the conclusion of the ceremony, it's…intense, to say the least. The mild ache that settled itself between your thighs last week seems to swell, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. When he slides his tongue past your lips, all you want to do is release a wanton moan directly into his mouth and rub yourself shamelessly against him. The fact that you’re standing on a platform while the entire world looks on is really the only thing that stops you.

The fact that this is your immediate reaction scares you a bit. You know it’s biology—soulbonds are meant to be consummated isn’t just a saying—but there’s part of you that feels like you should have a stronger handle on that impulse. You are mad at him, you remind yourself. He took over your entire planet, installed himself as king, and then had the audacity to be your soulmate. Focus. Be angry.

You wonder if your family and friends are watching. Your phone ran out of battery the night after he found you and you haven’t had the heart to charge it. You’re barely managing your own emotional reaction—you’re not ready to invite anyone else into it just yet.

The rest of your wedding day is a blur. You meet a bunch of important people and retain exactly none of their names or roles. There is an elaborate multi-course feast and you manage to eat without spilling food on your dress, which feels like a small miracle. You meet more important people and somehow retain even less information. You dance—a few dances with important people whose names you’ve forgotten, but mostly with Loki. The sun sets. They bring out an elaborate dessert course. You dance again. Loki’s hand on your waist fans the flames of desire that you’re trying so hard to ignore.

Finally, you’re whisked away to prepare for bed. It took three people to get you into your dress, and it takes just as many to get you out. They help you into a nightgown that you also didn’t get to pick out—and in fact, it’s the first time you’re seeing it at all. It’s almost too pretty to sleep in, though you suppose that’s the point—you’re supposed to fall asleep naked and sated in the arms of your new husband (god, it’s so weird that you have a husband). You’re not so sure that this is the specific fate that’s in your cards, but you anticipate the nightgown will be coming off at some point this evening. In the interim, you look stereotypically virginal in white lace and chiffon, a glittering emerald pendant resting in your cleavage.

You’ve been staying in a guest suite since he found you, but tonight, they bring you to his rooms. Your rooms, you suppose. Somehow, you doubt he’s the sort who believes that husbands and wives should sleep separately.

The lights are on, but it’s quiet. You wonder if he’s even here.

You approach the couch that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. You can see fireworks and twinkling lights of different celebrations and your stomach clenches like a fist. It’s supposed to be in honor of you. Earth’s new queen. A title that shouldn’t even exist, let alone belong to you.

You turn away from the window and sit down on the couch. You stare at the wall, hands twisting the delicate fabric of your nightgown in your lap.

You hear a sound in the other room—his study, you think—and your heart leaps to your throat, practically buzzing with an emotion that feels like the strange cousin of anxiety and anticipation.

You keep your eyes locked on the wall as you listen to his footsteps draw closer.

“It’s customary to announce yourself when you enter someone’s quarters, you know.”

You pause for a moment before letting your gaze trail to him. It’s a conscious, obnoxious power play on your part—you are trying to show him that you still have agency, that he has not yet won your respect or admiration.

You’re not even sure that it registers, which only serves to irritate you further.

He is still wearing most of his wedding clothes, though he’s taken off the fine surcoat from the ceremony, exposing the soft tunic he was wearing underneath. He is smirking—that seems to be his expression of choice, you’ve noticed.

“Aren’t these my rooms too?” you ask. “Is it customary to announce myself in my own space?”

You are trying to be rude, but it doesn’t seem to matter: he simply laughs.

“You are spirited,” he says, looking you over appreciatively, stirring a wild and burning need in your hips, slickness collecting in the lacy white underwear that had been chosen for you.

“And you intend to break me, is that it?” you snap with more venom than is perhaps wise.

“Of course not.” His answer surprises you, though you are determined to not let that show in your face. “Your will is part of your appeal. I’d no sooner crush a rose beneath my boot.”

You are skeptical of this claim given the amount of damage he did to New York City, but your traitorous cunt throbs at his words nonetheless.

“I’m not happy about any of this, you know,” you say, hoping that your anger will act like roiling floodwaters on the firestorm of lust that’s continuing to build in your hips.

It doesn’t, of course. What’s worse: he laughs. Again.

“I’d gathered,” he says. “You are wonderfully unsubtle when you’re angry.”

“I mean, are you surprised?” you say irritably. “I didn’t even get to pick out my own wedding dress, for fuck’s sake.”

“This is the burden of the office, I’m afraid,” he says. “Your wants and desires are often secondary to the needs of the crown.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from screaming at him. “I think you’re missing the point.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not.”

You let out one long breath. “Are you trying to irritate me?”

Another smirk. “I’m afraid I simply have a gift for it.”

You finally give in and scowl. “Great. This is going about as well as I had expected.”

His eyes drift down the column of your throat to the emerald pendant resting in your cleavage and then to the bodice of your nightgown. “Perhaps it’s time we concern ourselves with activities that require less talking.” He licks his lips and brings his gaze back up to yours.

“I’m not entirely convinced anything would stop you from talking,” you say.

“I suspect letting me bury my tongue in your cunt might do the trick.”

For the first time today, you are entirely speechless. The fire burning low in your hips roars into an inferno, like someone has poured accelerant along your nerves and Loki has struck a match. You take in one shaky breath, your heart thrumming in your throat.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a dark sort of smugness. “To bed, wife.”

You steadfastly ignore the way your stomach jumps when he calls you ‘wife.’ Why is that hot? It shouldn’t be hot.

You’re tempted to argue with him some more—you don’t like giving him even the vaguest impression that you’re following his orders or anything like that—but one smoldering look from him has your heart pounding and another wave of fresh arousal flooding between your legs. You follow him to the bed, trying to keep your expression neutral and indifferent.

He pulls you firmly against him and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no space between you—you can feel his stomach muscles expand and contract with every slow intake of breath, the press of his slowly hardening cock against your stomach.

He tilts your face up to his and claims your mouth in a devouring kiss, and this time, the moan that you’d held back during the ceremony slips from your lips almost immediately. He makes a low growling noise in return, his hands sliding to the row of small pearl buttons that hold up the back of your nightgown.

You suspect that beyond aesthetic and functional value, the purpose of these buttons is to facilitate a slow, sexy reveal; Loki undoes exactly two and a half buttons before roughly pulling the edges of the fabric apart, the remaining buttons snapping from their threads and pinging against the floor.

You pull away from him, immediately annoyed. “Do you make a habit of ruining other people’s things? What if I wanted to wear that again?”

He laughs, tugging the fabric off your shoulders. “Perhaps you forget the extraordinary powers I have at my command,” he says, staring greedily at your breasts as he tugs the nightgown down your waist, pulling it off your hips so it falls to the floor. “I could tear this gown off you every night and remake it every morning with no more than a click of my fingers.”

Fucking magic powers undercutting your goddamn fucking point.

“Yeah, well, you’re still a jackass,” you say sourly, unwilling to concede the point any further.

His smile is sharp in a way that makes you shiver and he slips his hand into your underwear, his smile growing as he feels how slick you are. “It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much, does it?”

You try to keep your expression stern, but his fingers find your clit and you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

“Your sweet cunt is so ready to come.” He slides a finger into you and you whimper. “It’s obscene how wet you are for me.”

You bite back a plea and kiss him instead. His mouth is rough on yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue plundering your mouth. He slides a second finger into you and you keen.

“Yes,” he groans against your mouth. “Take it like a good girl.”

You clench around his fingers and your hands seek purchase in his hair. You tug on it lightly and he growls with pleasure before he pulls away, his hands moving to the waistband of your underwear and tugging it off your hips.

“Get on the bed.” His tone brooks no arguments. “Now.”

It’s tempting to talk back, tempting to resist. You are still angry about every aspect of this relationship and this stupid fucking wedding. But you know you need this—the dull ache in your hips is only growing more pronounced with every passing moment and the brief feeling of his fingers on your clit was nothing short of heaven. Soulbonds are meant to be consummated and your body seems to be doing everything it can to propel you toward that end.

You kick your underwear the rest of the way off before sitting down on the bed and lying back on the pillows.

He pauses for a moment to look you over, his gaze trailing lazily over your bare skin, his hand absently moving to palm his cock through his trousers. “Spread your legs,” he says. You do and you catch a breath of a groan from him as he stares at you. Your cunt throbs in response and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

He allows himself one moment before he crawls on the bed to join you. He kneels between your legs, staring greedily at your exposed cunt, running a thumb along the edge of your folds. Your hips rock upward involuntarily, chasing his hand, seeking friction.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs. “So soaking wet, so desperately needy for my touch.” He pauses again, licking his lips. “I think I might need a taste.”

Your breath stutters in your chest and he kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly licking and sucking his way upward in a tantalizing preview of what’s to come. You’re already soaking and you can feel yourself growing wetter as his sinful mouth draws closer and closer to your aching need.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a moan or a whine that passes your lips when he finally licks that first long, lazy stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans low and wanting against your cunt, his tongue rolling over your clit once more before he catches it between his lips and slowly begins to suck.

There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.

It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.

He is—predictably—infuriatingly smug about all of this.

Your first orgasm arrives so quickly that it seems to take you both by surprise. And indeed, he lifts his head moments later, already smirking.

“That was awfully quick, wife,” he says. The glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely noticed how you reacted to that name earlier and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from scowling.

“Maybe you’re out of practice,” you say. Even as you say it, it doesn’t sound convincing (it doesn’t even make sense when you think about it later) and Loki laughs outright.

“I think not,” he says, carefully sliding one long index finger inside of you. “I think your poor cunt has been sorely neglected, either by you or some subpar lover you took to ease the ache of missing me.” He adds a second finger and you bite your lip to keep in a moan. “I think you’ll be begging for me before the night is out.” His fingertips press teasingly against that spot inside you and you take in a sharp breath.

He starts lazily moving his fingers in and out of you and while it feels good, you know it’s not going to be enough to get you there. You suspect, from the way that he’s smirking, that he knows this, too.

“Do you want my mouth again? I don’t think you’re done.”

“You’re trying to be a jerk and I don’t like it,” you say.

He laughs and draws his thumb briefly over your clit. “Darling, I only want you to tell me what you want.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I think you can understand the appeal of hearing a beautiful woman beg for your touch.”

His compliment immediately clashes with the suggestion that you begging for him is a possibility.

He smiles, catlike, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“You need my mouth again,” he says, fingers curling inside you. “You need more. I can feel how wet you are, sweet thing.” His thumb presses against your clit and retreats as soon as your breath hitches.

“I could keep you like this for hours. Days, even,” he says, lazily stroking his fingers inside you. “I could keep you right on the edge, begging for your release. But I don’t think you want that. Even I don’t want that. I think you want to come again right now and I think you want my mouth.”

“I’m not begging you for it,” you say.

“I’ve only asked you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I’ve merely expressed that I find the idea of you begging very appealing.”

You want to smack him. With your luck, though, that would turn out to be one of his kinks and then you’ll really be in for it. Your fingers flex against the sheets.

“Do you want to come, darling? Do you want my mouth again?” he asks with a feigned innocence that suggests it’s not a loaded question, even as the glint in his eyes tells you it is.

You’re silent for a beat and then his thumb returns to your clit, pressing and stroking as his fingers curl inside of you. Your hips rock with his hand and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he stops a few seconds later, his eyebrows raised like he’s expecting your answer.

This exchange repeats four more times. On the fifth, you finally break.

“Please,” you whimper. You sound more desperate than you would prefer, but your overwhelming need to come has quickly superseded whatever shreds of decency you have left.

“Please what?” he asks, radiating smugness.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl, which he only laughs at.

“I’m waiting…” he says, his fingers curling in a teasing way.

You know there’s no getting around this. “I need to come.”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, like he’s expecting more.

You resist the urge to sigh. “I need your mouth. Please.”

He barely spares a second for a wicked grin and a growl of praise that only elevates your need before he’s lowering his mouth again to your clit.

Your second orgasm is somehow even quicker than the first, only this time, you’re already whimpering for the next one as soon as you catch your breath.

Mercifully, he doesn’t lift his mouth from your cunt this time, though he does give you a wicked look that more or less says the same thing.

His fingers are wonderful, but you know they’re no substitute for his cock. And while he has made you come so many times already, the need to have him inside of you continues to grow, settling into a dull ache in your hips.

“I need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe as the aftershocks of your latest orgasm fade back to that ache.

He lifts his head for a minute. “I intend to, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”

Your eyes widen as he seals his lips back around your clit.

“I mean, I’ve just—fuck—I’ve just had more…c-consecutive orgasms than I’ve ever had before in my life, you’re—oh my god, yes—you’re not exactly leaving me wanting—oh fuck.”

He stays silent, but it’s because his tongue is working over your clit. You, on the other hand, are in the process of undercutting your own point. A few more strokes of his tongue and you are coming again, your hips jerking hard against his mouth.

He doesn’t stop after that, either—he draws more orgasms from you, groaning into your cunt when you pull on his hair.

Your pleas for him to fuck you become increasingly desperate with every orgasm, until he finally lifts his head.

“What was it that you wanted?” he asks with a smirk that tells you he needs absolutely no clarification whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please. I need to be fucked, I need your cock,” you say. You feel restless and desperate, the ache inside you growing with every passing second.

“Oh, darling, all you needed to do was ask,” he says, his tone overly cloying.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl. “I have been asking. Repeatedly.”

He laughs and begins to undress. You suspect he’s doing this to torture you—you know he could remove his clothes in one go if he wanted to.

He peels his shirt off first and your lips part involuntarily as you take in the firm expanse of muscle of his chest and abdomen, your fingertips itching with the need to touch him. You grip the sheets instead in the vain hope that it might make a difference (it doesn’t).

But even the enticing expanse of his chest is no match for what’s to come.

He removes his trousers with achingly precise slowness. You expect him to be hard; what you’re not expecting is the primal response that it invokes in you. His cock is long, thick, and hard, the head already slick with pre-come. It’s not just for you—it’s because of you.

You swallow hard as he turns to face you fully. You’re so distracted by his cock that you almost miss the smug smirk, which he makes no attempt to hide. He knows he’s hot, he knows he has a beautiful cock, and he knows that you are absolutely aching for him. It is profoundly irritating.

He wraps his hand around his cock, wetting his lips as he casually strokes himself once. “Do you want me?” he asks with the sort of tone and expression that tells you he absolutely knows the answer.

You could yell at him. The prospect is certainly tempting. But you’re not sure that it’s worth it, not with the way your cunt is throbbing with the need to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock.

“Loki, please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you’d like, but you decide that you can live with it.

You are treated to a particularly wolfish grin before he starts stalking towards you.

There’s a large part of you that expects him to flip you over and take you from behind, rough and fast and impersonal. But instead, he climbs on top of you and draws you into a kiss. It’s deep and slow and heightened by the heavy weight of his bare cock pressing against your belly, drops of pre-come smearing against your skin.

Your back arches and your right leg snakes around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him to finally ease the ache inside of you. But he takes his time, kissing you slowly, running his hands over your breasts and hips, rocking his cock against you, but not inside of you.

You don’t like begging—it feels too much like offering up a vulnerability—but it becomes increasingly difficult not to give into the urge the longer he stays on top of you like this.

“Loki,” you finally say when he starts peppering sharp, sucking kisses against your throat.

“What is it, my love?” he asks with a faux confusion that you can see through right away.

“You know what I want,” you say as evenly as you can manage.

“Mmm, let me hear you say it just once more,” he says.

“Please fuck me.”

You’re expecting another negotiation, another battle of wits, but instead, he gives you a rather sharp grin and adjusts his hips so he can rub the tip of his cock up and down the length of your cunt. And then, to your surprise, he lines his cock up at your entrance and slowly begins to ease inside of you.

There’s a part of you—a large part of you—that’s surprised by how careful he is. He’s gentle, slowly pressing into you, giving you time to adjust, his movements careful. He does this all in such a way that you might not notice if you didn’t think to look—he wants you to think that he’s not doing any of what he’s doing. He wants you to think he’s not thinking of you when he is, that the care and precision of his movements are merely a pleasant coincidence. You’re not sure how you know this, but you feel certain.

He waits to kiss you until he’s pressed fully inside you, and you realize this is another illusion, another cover so you don’t realize that he’s giving you another moment to adjust to him.

It’s oddly considerate—irritatingly so. The coals of your anger still burn bright in your heart, but they flicker for just a moment.

But then he begins to move and coherent thoughts flee your mind entirely.

He feels so good. You’re not sure if it’s the soulbond itself, the dopamine and serotonin, or if he just knows the perfect way to move, but the first thrust has your toes curling and that warm heat stirring in your belly. You’ve already come so many times tonight that it feels impossible that your body should be capable of more, but you know immediately that he’s going to bring you right back over the edge if he keeps moving the way he is.

And he’s showing no signs of stopping, either.

“Norns,” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your neck, “you feel perfect. So warm and tight.”

You shiver, your cunt clenching reflexively around his slowly stroking cock. He grins and presses his lips up against your ear.

“Do you like hearing how your snug little cunt fits me like a glove?”

You would prefer to be able to lie in this particular moment—instead, your body immediately betrays you and your legs tighten around his waist as your cunt shudders around him.

You can practically feel his sharp, hungry smile as he nips at your earlobe. “I can feel how much you do,” he murmurs. A devastating swivel of his hips has you uttering a gasping whine that you are not at all proud of.

“That’s it.” He’s swiveling his hips on every other thrust now and you know the moment he switches to that exclusively, it’s all over. “You’re so close,” he purrs with confidence that annoys you just a little, even in your pre-orgasmic stupor.

But then he swivels his hips again and you shudder before you can hide it and he notices…and does it again.

And again.

Fuck.

Your orgasm starts barreling toward you at an impossibly fast pace and his eyes glitter because he knows.

“You’re going to come for me.” It’s not even a command—it’s just a statement as he rolls his hips in those devastating thrusts.

You whimper, your back arching.

“Give into it. Let me feel you.”

One more push of his cock against that sweet spot inside you and you can’t fight it any more. Your muscles tense one last time and you cry out as you come hard on his cock.

“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, his eyes closing as he fucks you through it.

It seems to last a long time, drawn out every time the head of his cock drags against that sensitive spot that sent you over the edge in the first place. He pauses briefly to bring your legs up over his shoulders, which makes his cock hit a spot even deeper inside you that feels so good it pulls a strangled sob from your throat.

Loki groans, his pace increasing, one hand falling between your legs to rub at your clit. It’s so much, but it feels better than anything. You feel another orgasm rising in your hips and you whimper.

“Good girl, fucking take it,” he slurs. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his thrusting is becoming more frantic, how he tips his head back and grips your hips even harder.

“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m going to fill your lovely cunt with my seed. Come for me.”

Your vision whites out and your back arches as you come. If you were capable of rational thought, you would be angry that your body simply obeyed this simple directive; as it is, it’s hard for you to process anything other than how good he feels inside of you.

You can tell he’s approaching his end and he’s utterly captivating to watch. His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed and lips parted as he lets out a low groan that makes your toes curl.

His eyes open in the final throes and he surges forward to kiss you. He moans softly into your mouth as he comes, his whole body shuddering.

You feel dreamy and sated as he slows to a halt, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. The restless ache inside you is finally quiet—at least for now.

You expect him to roll off you and fall asleep—the portrait of a cliche. Instead, he stays with you, the warm heat of his breath ghosting over your shoulder. You can feel his cock still throbbing inside of you.

You should push him away, reclaim the distance between you. You’re angry at him, after all.

But also…it feels nice.

It’s just the endorphins, you tell yourself. It’s hormones. It doesn’t mean anything.

You can feel the lie prickling at the edges of the thought, sharp and needling, like ground glass pressing against bare skin. It means a lot of things; you just wish it didn’t.

Be angry.

His lips brush against your shoulder. More of your muscles relax. It’s nice.

Be angry.

You’re tired though. It’s been a really long day and the bed is soft and the weight of Loki on top of you is oddly reassuring.

Maybe just for tonight. Maybe just this once you’ll allow yourself to fall asleep in his bed.

“I’m still mad at you,” you say. It feels too sharp, too strident. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. He doesn’t know you, though, not really, and so you can only hope that he misses the subtle catch in your voice, that little note of uncertainty.

“I’d expect nothing less.” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.

Goddammit, why does this have to be so comfortable?

He shifts slightly, easing out of you. You feel the resulting mess vanish before it even hits your thigh. At least he’s considerate.

You scowl at the thought.

“Sleep,” he says after a moment. “You’ll need your strength to rage at me in the morning.”

“I can rage at you in my sleep,” you say as your eyes slide shut.

“I’m sure you can,” he says. “Sleep.”

And despite all your complicated feelings—your anger, the inherent feeling of ease you get from his embrace, your unease with your new title, your homesickness—you find that the pull of sleep is too tempting to resist and the world slowly fades away.

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