#the lapels on loki's coat are so fucking big you guys

[brinnybee]

quick scribbles to try and learn some dear dear faces c':

#my art! #loki #mobius m mobius #lokius #still truly hate drawing real people but for them i will try #hope to have more to share in the future and also some fics in the works! #but will not have a ton of freetime to do creative endeavors until after next week :c #fluffy hair and noses are two of my favorite things in the whole world to draw so these two beans are a treat #the lapels on loki's coat are so fucking big you guys #like i was looking at my references and then my thumbnail sketch convinced I was so so wrong but those puppies are huge #lots of square footage for silver foxes to grab hold for smooches or something idk #your honor i love them

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright - Part Twelve

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN:  To the nonnie who suggested a line, it’ll be in part 13 :) I THINK YOU GUYS WILL LIKE THIS CHAPTER! i’ve stopped being rude to our poor loki ;) More to come this week yall. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Warnings: angst, language, SMUT (18+ ONLY)

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART TWELVE

“I’ve had it,” you said, pushing away your dinner. 

“Yeah, me too,” Bruce sighed, eating the last fry and leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “I don’t get it. Why give this big ass meal if no one has ever finished it?”

“It’s not called the Impossible Plate for nothing, Bruce,” you mumbled, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Still,” he mumbled, yawning. “I’ll have to sleep for days to digest this.”

You laughed, watching your brother, who’d grown a white hair or two in the last years, bend over an eating contest you’d both known you’d never be able to finish. 

But at least you were spending time with Bruce, not wallowing around in your apartment, waiting for the sun to set, for a certain someone to climb out of the shadows. 

“So,” Bruce said, wiping the corner of his mouth. “Did you and Nat find any cute boys the other night?”

You rolled your eyes, panic rising in your throat because no, both of you had returned home beau-less, but you’d recently found someone else. And you were not about to let Bruce know. Not now. Not ever. 

But truth is, you hadn’t seen Loki since the night he came back, and your tummy was a turmoil of panic and butterflies. Had he left once again? What was he doing? Where? With who?

You gulped down the terror rising in your throat as you smiled tightly at Bruce. “No, well, you know how it is,” you said awkwardly. “They all wanna talk to Nat so I kind of awkwardly step to the side.”

Bruce nodded. “Well, Nat is a very beautiful woman,” he sighed.

“Ew, Bruce stop.”

“But some men like women like you too.”

“What, ugly?”

“Oh my God, Y/N, stop it,” your brother grumbled. “Half the men in here swiveled their necks when you walked in.”

You wanted to hide in your hands. 

But then Bruce’s face changed and you knew what was coming. He always did this. Always. As if he just had to make sure you were miserable, just for the sake of the planet’s safety.

“I need to tell you something,” Bruce said with a frown. God, you hoped he was fine. But something in the lines of his face made worry climb in your belly. “There’s news from... from Asgard.”

It was as if that word was poison to you. “Loki,” you mumbled, throat raw.

“Thor delivered some news yesterday,” your brother continued, toying with his fingers, a nervous habit of his. “Loki... Loki died.”

You frowned, your head snapping up to meet Bruce’s warm brown gaze. “Dead?” you asked.

That was impossible. Just two days ago, he’d been standing in your apartment. He’d been... You gulped.

Bruce put his elbows on the table, initiating his Big Brother Stance. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. “I know it must be terrible news for you.”

You dipped your chin, searching your last moments with Loki, trying to decipher if he’d given you a hint. This made no sense. How could Loki, the God of Mischief, be dead?

“How?” you asked. 

Bruce sighed. “Thor broke him out of prison to help him cure Jane of the Aether, and well, Loki was killed in a battle.”

You were frowning so hard it hurt. 

“I am so sorry, little sis,” Bruce murmured, reaching across the table to touch your hand. You immediately jerked it away, regretting the harsh movement as you saw hurt crossing your brother’s features, but not caring at the same time. How could he be dead?

You stood, the chair scraping on the wooden floor. You grabbed your bag, heart pounding, breath roaring in your ears.

“Y/N,” Bruce said, eyeing you with worry creasing his face. 

“I’m gonna go,” you mumbled, not bothering with the bill or politeness or the fact that you were running out of a restaurant. 

The street sounds were a blur to you as you all but ran out, bumping into people, muttering excuses. You walked by habit, heart a sore muscle, thoughts jumbling. How could Loki be dead in two days? Had Thor delivered the news a few days ago? Or today?

You were vaguely aware of your phone buzzing in your pocket, but all you could concentrate on was Loki’s presence. He’d been in and out of your apartment for weeks, repairing this or that, and it was only two days ago that he’d been in your apartment, kissing you. 

He just couldn’t be dead. 

It was late evening as you rushed up the stairs of your apartment complex, blood roaring in your ears, breath panting as you burst through the door. You didn’t bother locking it. Rushing to the curtains, you ripped them closed, ushering in more darkness. He only seemed to come to you in the dark. 

Standing there like an idiot, panting, silence filling your ears, you called out to him. At first, it was weak. A raw attempt to conjure him as if he was a ghost. But then the anger got to you, sweeping in hot against the inside of your rib cage, and you balled your fingers into fists. 

“Loki, fuck!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks warm.

The shadow behind you spoke. “Love hearing my name like that.”

You whirled, watching him melt from the shadows as if he’d been there all along. Black long sleeve cotton sweater, black trousers, boots to match. His hair had been cut since the last time you’d seen him. The long strands now short just below his ears, pushed back unevenly. 

He glowed, looking healthier, more like himself than when he’d been begging you never to let him go. 

“I thought you didn’t want me,” he said, pouting his lower lip. As he moved across the living room floor to stand before you, he put a hand to his heart. “Wounds me.”

“Are you really here?” you asked, resisting the urge to slap him for his arrogance.

“Why don’t you come and find out, beloved?” He opened his arms wide, a smirk tugging at the treacherous corners of that delicious mouth. 

You walked right up to him and clocked him in the jaw. His head snapped back, smirk wiping off his face, arms falling to his sides. When he looked back at you, standing close and seething, his left brow rose slowly. “I do not believe I’ve ever deserved such treatment.”

“Thor’s been saying you’re dead,” you accused, looking up at him from under your brows. 

The smirk slowly came back. “I may have helped spread that rumor,” he admitted, reaching out the touch the lapel of your coat. You inched back, but he snapped his hand closed and pulled you closer. “You must understand, Y/N, that this little lie I’ve shaped up allows us to be together.” He dipped his chin, eyes boring into yours. 

He was so close that you could feel the heat of him through your clothes. He’d been so cold the other night.

He licked his lips, inching slightly towards your mouth. “When you’re a powerful God and sorcerer like me, faking your death is like breathing. Easy.”

Your eyes widened, but the hurt you’d felt in your heart seemed to evaporate. If he’d faked his death, that meant he was really here. Unburdened. No one even knew he lived and breathed. 

His hands went into your coat, swiftly sliding it off your shoulders. You watched him, memorized the lines of his face. 

“It’s just you and me now,” he murmured, your coat hitting the floor with a deafening thud. “We can go wherever we please.”

His hands found home on your hips, burying his face in your neck and inhaling, the scent of him invading your senses. He gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, flush, like two puzzle pieces. He was warm, oh so warm. He smelled like wood fire and something unique to him that made your body feel... safe. 

“Say something, baby,” he mumbled against the flesh of your neck, sending shivers gliding down your back. His warm, big hands slid against your waist until he held your ribcage. Surely, he could feel just how hard your heart was beating. 

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured. 

You felt him chuckle against you as he straightened, his hands cupping your cheeks. “I can show you how very much alive I am,” he whispered, his voice thick. 

You gulped. Something in you fizzled, dripping thick, honeyed want into your belly. 

But Loki cocked his head. “I could take you here,” he said, eyes faraway, as if he was talking to himself. “I could... Gods, stop looking at me like that.”

He brought his mouth to yours, kissing you so fiercely that you forgot his whole “pretending to be dead” thing. The way his mouth molded to yours stole the breath from your lungs, driving you mad with the need of him. He was so soft, yet so rough, a restraint in him only felt as you grabbed onto his taunt shoulders. He was keeping himself controlled. 

You wondered what it would be like if he didn’t. 

He said your name through kisses, pushing onto you until the backs of your knees found the edge of the couch. “I’ve been starved for two years,” he mumbled, biting onto your lower lip. “Bled out.” Another breathtaking kiss. “All I wanted was you.”

You briefly remembered the way he’d looked that first time you saw him: disgusted, and how ironic was that now. He was bound to you so fiercely you felt it in your bones, and he was on his knees, wanting you more than anything. More than his own life. 

“Loki,” you murmured, breathing him in, kissing him back with as much heat as you could muster. You took ahold of his shirt with courage that seemed to pour in the more he ravaged you with his mouth. Pulling him back, you brought him down onto the couch, straddling him with ease. It really was like fitting two puzzle pieces. 

He huffed, his eyes searching your face with a look you could only chalk up to awe. His hands delicately treaded along your waist, skimming your hips as you lowered yourself flush against him. You could feel him through his pants, warm and hard, and the thought that just the sight of you got Loki so aroused made you bite your lip. 

He looked up at you, caressing your ribcage. “I could have you like this,” he whispered, his other hand skimming your belly and up, until he toyed with your nipple through your shirt. “I would have you how ever you want, Y/N,” he said, reaching for your mouth.

You dipped your fingers into his hair, grasping, bringing you against him until instinct took over and you rolled your hips, feeling his teeth nip you through the kiss. A low rumble came from him, his hand grasping your hip. “Careful, love,” he warned, nipping at your neck, your hands gripping the strands of dark hair. “Or I’ll be in a hurry.”

You smiled. Genuinely smiled. It was the first time in what felt like ages that the stretch of your lips felt real. You’d been living a lie for two years and now, straddling this dark prince of Gods, you knew this is where you belonged.

He brought his mouth back to yours. “Runaway with me,” he said, splaying both hands down the length of your back. “Please.”

You closed your eyes, kissing his jaw, down his neck, rolling your hips until you knew just how much of him you’d be dealing with. That low rumble came back, his hand snapping out and gripping your neck. With a hiss, he brought you back until you could meet his eyes. 

You gulped, but you couldn’t help the knot of arousal coiling in your belly. “Don’t play with me,” he warned, eyes dark in the dimly lit room. 

The left corner of your mouth tugged up and you barely saw him move. You knew he had superhuman strength and speed, but you’d never seen him use it before. And now, one moment you were straddling him, the next you were on the floor, Loki poised menacingly between your legs. 

When you looked up, panting, the pressure of Loki’s hand around your throat, his eyes were hooded. 

“Touch me,” he said. 

You felt the heat pouring into your face, but the hand around your neck eased until it grasped onto yours, guiding it to Loki’s arousal. He was so warm, so hard as you pressed your hand against him, eliciting a low groan from him. 

You watched him as his head bent slightly, eyes shutting, grasping him through his pants. He seemed to tremble, both hands in fists either side of your head. And then he let out a low groan, his mouth brushing yours. 

“The things you fucking do to me, love,” he whispered against your mouth before kissing you so hard you saw stars. 

He grabbed onto both sides of your jeans and tugged, making you lose touch with him and sliding softly on the floor. He smiled, kissing your neck down to the swell of your breast until he was face to face with the apex between your legs. He tugged again when you slowly rose your hips from the ground, watching him, seeing the way his eyes drank you in like a drug. 

Your jeans hit the ground and you instinctively closed your legs, but Loki’s long fingers on your knees pushed them apart as he settled there, his mouth finding home on the flesh of your neck. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to,” he mumbled, fingers playing along the inside of your thigh, “but you can stop me if you want.”

Something akin to awe swelled in your chest and you grabbed onto his face, bringing his mouth back onto yours. He grunted, moving until your left leg was wide open for him. 

His fingers delicately pushed your panties aside, his mouth nipping at yours. You trembled, not because it was cold, and he sensed the way your bones seemed to flutter. “I got you, baby,” he whispered, two long, warm fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow, tentative circles that made you arch your back. 

Loki dipped his chin, grasping a nipple in his mouth through your shirt. You’d stopped wearing bras since the last time you’d seen him.

A whimper left you as Loki continued his ministrations, the pressure just right, the circles so languid. You lost yourself to the rhythm, rolling your hips into his hand, his mouth kissing up your neck and leaving a trail purely his. 

“Yeah?” he whispered in your ear, the pressure on his fingers increasing and you mewled, grasping his hair. “That’s a good girl, huh.” You flushed, lost in the storm of his words and the way his hand felt so fucking good. 

The pressure on your nub left momentarily, replaced by a long finger easing into you. Loki let out a low groan. “Gods, you’re so soft and wet.” His voice was like pure sin as his thumb found your nub and he gently rubbed, finding the perfect rhythm for you.

You arched your back as his finger found that soft spot in you, a cry passing through clenched teeth. 

“That feel good, love?” he muttered against your neck, kissing and biting. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” you moaned, the combined pleasure of his thumb and finger in and on you making you a complete puddle. 

He chuckled, something dark seeping from him, as he slowly started to lower himself until he was face to face with you. A blush crept up your face and he watched what he was doing to you. 

“So pretty,” he mumbled, and you saw him lower his mouth until his tongue made a bold swipe, replacing his thumb, and you all but cried out, chest arching off the floor. “That’s more like it,” his breathed against you.

And then he all but made you toss yourself off the edge. His tongue was a gift sent from the Gods, and the more he sucked and swirled your clit, his finger easing in and out of you, the closer you got to a real precipice. 

There was a knot in your belly, and whenever Loki’s tongue pressed ever so slightly against your core, you swore you almost broke. 

“Loki, I’m... oh God.” You reached down to grasp his hair. 

His pace seemed to quicken ever the slightest, his tongue working wonders against your clit until your insides felt like lead and that knot threatened to erupt. When he added another finger, so easily, you gasped, a broken moan clenched in your mouth, as the edge came and you toppled, Loki’s name on your tongue.

You were vaguely aware of Loki as he kissed the inside of your thigh, wiping his mouth onto your flesh. You were a puddle, breathing erratic as he loomed over you. 

“Runaway with me, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing your neck, your jaw, claiming your mouth and forcing you to taste yourself. “Come on,” he murmured, hands skimming your ribcage. “I could have you cumming for me like this every day.”

The thought made you smile. 

He grabbed your hand and kissed your palm, tugging until you could sit up and meet his gaze. 

“I’m begging you,” he continued, his voice so low, so thick as he kissed your hairline. 

You breathed in. “Okay.”

AAAAHHHHHH = me writing smut always. PART THIRTEEN ALREADY IN THE WORKS!!!

tags: @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor @winchescumberholland @morganmofresh @dazedkrosupreme @postsbyjenipeo  @blblabalabla (couldn’t work bb) @copper-boom