Natashaspointeshoes - Satin - Tumblr Blog

literally if you’re new to tumblr: reblog shit

“it wont fit my aesthetic” make a sideblog. reblog to it.

“i hate tagging” don’t tag then. reblog it anyway.

“but my likes are public” ppl here dont fucking look at your likes. they dont do anything anyway. reblog it.

“you just want attention” jokes on you, I dont make shit anymore. I’m talking about other artists.

“it’s embarrassing” tumblr is an anonymous platform. make a sideblog if you’re too cowardly

“but on twitter its fine to have lurk accounts” well they suck ass here and are assumed to be bots. reblog.

For the @guardian

reblog this if your blog is a safe space on april fools and won’t have any jumpers, screamers, or anything scary or anxiety inducing

This is why I can't go on Amazon in the middle of the night lol

His place in the world - Loki x Reader

Summary: Shape-shifting was not Y/N's favourite kind of magic. Not when Loki used that to turn into Thor and have her confess her well-kept feelings.

It was beyond frustrating at this point. To yearn for someone for so long and never get anything good out of it. Hopeless dreams and hollow promises kept you awake at night. But there wasn't much you could do. You tried your hardest. You really did. And it didn't matter that much to you at this point anyway. You were getting used to it. To the rejection, to how you would feel the metallic taste of your blood when you used to bite your tongue to keep it all in. To how you always stood in the second place and watched everyone around you get loved. And it was alright, you would tell yourself in your darkest nights. Your time will eventually come and it will sweep you off your feet.

So you waited. And in all of that chaos and heartbreak, you used to hold onto this string of hope for dear life.

But love never came for you so you learned to live with what you were given. You could always find love in other places, platonic love or self-love. And there was nothing wrong with that. You just wished, with your whole heart that for once you would be able to know how it feels to have someone think of you before they go to sleep. To have someone listen to the sappiest love songs thinking about how they would hold your hand. Such stupid little thoughts, such pathetic expectations. Over and over again, that stinging feeling of loneliness. Those thorns stuck in your throat every time you tried to swallow the tears away. So you promised yourself to keep away from this damned feeling. To Hell with love, it will never come for you.

Yet, you messed up again. It was a quiet evening, with almost everyone gone on missions leaving the compound lifeless and forsaken. With the circumstances at hand, you chose to kill your time in the kitchen while waiting for your tea to boil. You used to hate the common areas at the beginning, they brought along unwanted interactions that your anxiety could not handle very well. But you grew into yourself in there. And you allowed other people to see you for who you truly were. In the end, you developed a strange attachment to these places. Especially since Loki came around.

Now it was not an easy task to befriend the God of Mischief, adding your lack of social skills into the mix and Loki's hatred towards Midgardians. And yet, you two somehow clicked. You didn't even know how that came to be. From evenings shared reading next to one another in silence in the common rooms at the beginning, you went to find yourselves in each other’s room in time, talking about nothing and the wide world until the crisp early hours of the morning. It was a curious thing, how well you matched and how quickly you grew to care for one another. And then that blossomed into something more for you. It turned into the ill-fated feeling of love. You tried your very best to hide it, from Loki and the team and even from yourself. You were fortunate enough to have found such an enchanting friend in Loki that you could not sabotage this with your foolish affection.

'I thought I was the only person who couldn't catch any sleep tonight,' you heard Thor's reverberating voice call from behind you and you almost spilt all of the hot water on your hands when you flinched, startled.

'You scared the living shit out of me, Thor,' you instinctively brought your hand up to your chest, while laughing lightly at your lack of perspicacity.

'I shall ask for your pardon, my lady,' Thor said while making a small reverence.

'I shall grant it to you, my dear Sir,' you mimicked his gesture with an amused smile.

You thought he was joking with the official terminology but he kept a straight face so you kept yourself from laughing at him.

You knew Thor was brought up to be a king and that he found these formalities normal etiquette but not in such an extreme manner. So you decided to brush off the amusement.

Moving around you, Thor reached for two mugs and placed them on the counter between the two of you.

'If you do not mind, I would like to join you for your midnight tea.' Giving you his best smile, Thor pulled a chair next to you without waiting for a reply. You would have preferred some time alone to think your situation through but you could not shatter the God's state of eagerness so you obliged. And Thor was not bad company at all, with his ever-present jolly attitude and his loud laugh, he could cheer up even the most stubborn of people.

'What is it that is weighing on your brilliant mind?' the God of Thunder leaned his head between his opened palms and stared at you like a professional therapist who could see right through your facade.

'Nothing, just tired,' you shrugged and played with an old wrapping left on the kitchen table.

You hoped that you dodged the question successfully and even more so, that you were not that obvious to begin with. For as long as you have known yourself, you were terribly talented at hiding your feelings from the outside world and pretending that you have a heart of stone. If any heart that was beating on this Earth was furthest away from that, it was yours though.

‘I won’t pressure you into telling me but sometimes it is good to share the hardships of the world with a friend,’ Thor said, while moving around you to pick the keattle off the stove and fill your mug with the rich, hot tea. He smiled down at your figure and gently squeezed your shoulder as a sign of comfort. He was always considerate of others, a literal ray of sunshine and it made it all more ironic that he was actually the God of Thunder when he was nothing but the Sun personified.

‘It is stupid really and I should much less discuss it with you, it’s just awkward.’

As soon as you said it, Thor’s face immediately changed as if he has seen a ghost. His shoulders slumped and he lost composure of his features for a second too long, a deep frown plastering itself all over his face.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ You wondered why that has visibly upset him. It did not mean that you lacked trust in him.

‘Why would anything be awkward with the two of us? You don’t have feelings for me, right?’ he chuckled while flippind his hair with his head. You noticed the gesture as a sign of nervousness that Loki always does as well. You smiled slightly at that. Even though they were not brothers by blood, no matter how falsely annoyed Loki always pretended to get with Thor, you knew they would die for one another. And the fact that Loki had someone who loved him absolutely, without qualifications or limitations melted your heart.

‘You make it sound like it would be the worst thing in the world,’ you teased him and pushed his shoulder. ‘I am not that bad.’

‘I’d say you are far from bad, ’ he jumped to defend himself way too quickly and that only made it more awkward than it already was. Raising an eyebrow at him, Thor realized how that came off so he started rambling again.

‘I did not mean this one like that either. I just - it’s only that-‘

You cut him off mid sentence, putting your hand up to spare his misery of explaining this whole mess.

‘What I meant by it being weird was that I am in love with someone close to you and spilling my heart out would just be pathetic of me to do and uncomfortable for you to hear.’

‘May I just intrude enough to ask who that is?’ an all-knowing smirk now took the frown’s place and he changed moods faster than you could register.

‘It’s pathetic, truly. You would have a good laugh though.’

He would. How in the Nine Realms could you explain that you were narrow-minded enough to direct your affections towards the person that hated your kind more than anything else? You knew Loki didn’t hate you, even more than that, you knew he considered you a friend. But that didn’t make your cause less helpless. The God of Mischief himself would not stoop that low as to fall for an average Midgardian. You would perish from existence faster than he could blink anyway. Your life span compared to his was seconds.

‘I won’t laugh at you, he cannot be that bad.’

‘Oh, he is not bad at all. He is the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. Not just phisically.’ You felt your cheeks grow a dark shade of red and you brought the back of your palms up to them in order to cool them down a bit. Thor saw that and laughed.

Genuinely, you didn’t know what has gotten into you to start letting so much information slip to Thor but it may just be the late hour. The nights have always given you a sense of comfort when it came to letting your walls down. It felt like the whole world was numbed and you had the chance to let your heart run free with no judgement. Shield after shield, they went down when someone else opened their heart to you. If you would not know better, you would have called that weakness. You used to, when you were younger. But you do know better now.

‘Then go for it, I don’t see what would the issue be,’ the God sounded too eager at the beggining of the sentence so he cut off the enthusiasm as he went on.

‘He is just too astounding for me to ever stand a chance,’ you tried to play off how much pain admitting these things out loud was causing you. The despair that love always brought to the softest of hearts.

‘Too astounding for you? I do not buy a word from this. I think the douche should consider himself lucky you even think of him like that.’

Something in Thor’s tone was questionable though. There was a strange sadness in there. Hidden behing calm eyes and a steady voice, but those were some unsteady hands he was playing with. ‘I believe you are way too lovely to ever have to worry about such trivial matters. The soul that you love holds the power of the Universe.’ He reached across the table to grab your clasped hands into his but he retracted quickly after he realized the gesture. You did not think much of it, you never questioned people’s kindness.

‘You are way too kind,’ you wanted to stop at that but something in his eyes made you want to go on. They held such comfort tonight, you have never found it with Thor before. You really felt like you were talking to your dearest friend.

‘I just don’t think I could ever be enough for someone like him. He has such an intricate heart and I have finally managed to form a bond with him. He does not deserve me ruining his first genuine friendship with my uncalled for feelings.’

‘Feelings of love and affection are never uncalled for. The heart is a terrible betrayer, isn’t it? But you cannot deny it what it wishes for.’ And there it was again, his smile. Thor changed his spirits so much throughout this talk that you decided not to even comment on it. ‘And I bet that with your taste, he is incredibly appealing.’

‘I really should not tell you this but he is. If seduction could take human form, he’d be it.’ The guts you had to just say that to Loki’s brother made you feel filthy. Damn right he is hot, we are talking about Loki Laufeyson, for Norn’s sake.

‘You really should not tell me things like that about my little brother, but I will have it this time just for the fun of it.’ A breathy laugh escaped your lips but it was not longer than a second until you choked on it. Did he just say his ‘little brother’? There was no way in which Thor would have been able to guess it, you did not know a person more oblivious than him to these things. Well, you did. His little brother. But you would not complain about that as it kept your friendship safe.

Thor got up and went to stand behind you in order to gently tap you on your back. Trying to regain composure, you stood up straight again and made it a mission to look as indifferent as ever.

‘I was most definetely not talking about Loki,’ your attempt to lie was so weak you did not even believe yourself.

‘Even a blind man could see the way your face fell when I mentioned him. It’s alright, I mean who could blame you? After all, he is as handsome as legends say.’ The only thing you could really do was nod your head in denial vehementely but that only made Thor laugh. He leaned in extremely close to your ear, placing his hands on the table on either side of you and that made you push yourself closer to the table to gain some space. What was he trying to do? You just told him you were in love with his brother.

‘I bet you think very unholy things about him as well, don-‘ ,you were on the verge of getting up and pushing Thor away, asking what has gotten into him when Thor walked into the kitchen.

Wait, what? Thor walked into the kitchen. You had to do a double-check towards the door and then it all came down upon you like the coldest of storms. You heard the real blonde burst into laughter as he, too, realized what Loki did.

‘You little piece of shit!’ You stood up from your chair so fast that it fell and the fake God of Thunder had to take a step back to avoid it. Turning around, you pushed him into his chest repeatedly with such force that the first time you did it, he stumbled. And then he had the audacity to laugh. To laugh. In your face.

The real Thor was looking at you two with such amusement, you wanted to slap him too.

‘This is such an old trick, but it gets people every time. I’ll leave you two to it.’ Sensing the uncomfortable situation that was about to arise and seeing the look of anger in your eyes, he dissapeared as fast as he came around.

‘How dare you? Turn back into yourself already, you lying prick!’ You pushed his shoulders with both of your hands and as the emerald glow errupted around him, you turned away from Loki cursing him under your breath. This was mortifying to say the least. You wanted to slap him for invading your privacy like that but you also wanted to flee for him and burry yourself 10 feet underground so you would never have to face him ever again.

‘You can say you just missed seeing me, love.’ Without having to even turn around, you could hear the smirk in his bloody annoying voice and you had a sudden urge to cuss him out. Withstanding this felt inhuman to you so you hurried towards the door, wishing to just vanish from view forever. Loki’s cold hand was on your wrist in no time and you forced your way out of his grip but to no avail.

‘Don’t leave now Y/N, I was merely teasing you.’ His voice was still holding a tingle of amusement but it gained an edge of softness that made your knees go weak. You turned to face him.

‘Teasing me? You embarassed me and had fun while doing it.’ An unexpected wave of courage ignited in you and you advanced on him while staring him down. ‘You just laughed into my face after doing that as well.’

‘I did not mean to upset you in any way, my dear.’ His hand moved from your wrist slowly to grasp your own. You retracted it too fast, as if it stinged and Loki’s face completely fell when seeing that.

‘Don’t look at me with pity, Loki. It’s fine that you don’t feel the same way. I much rather preffered you having a laugh at me.’

It was bad enough that he tricked you into confessing your feelings, the last thing you needed was him making it uncomfortable and feeling bad for you. This is what you were trying to avoid at all costs, losing his friendship and you were experiencing just that. Loki reached for your hand again and this time you let him take it. There was not enough courage left in your veins to grant you the luxury of being able to look into his eyes. So you focused your look on your hand in his. Might as well take that feeling in now because after tonight, you were sure as Hell he would not want anything to do with the likes of you. You allowed your heart a few more selfish, pathetic seconds to enjoy his touch.

‘You still don’t see it, do you? Even Thor caught on to me a while ago and we both know he is as oblivious as they come,’ he sqeezed your hand gently and used his thumb to rub small circles on the inside of your wrist. The small movement made your chest errupt with a suffocating feeling. ‘This is not pity in my eyes, my darling. Look again.’ He brought his free hand to your cheek and moved your head slightly so you would finally face him. You wanted to believe what you saw in his eyes. With every broken particle of your heart, you really did, because he was looking at you with so much love and tenderness, you only imagined this look in your most hopeful dreams. A shaky breath escaped your lips while you leaned your face more into the roughness of his palm and you closed your eyes. This was all you have ever wished for and yet, you could not believe it.

‘You don’t believe me.’ That made your eyes snap right open. Loki’s face was closer to yours than before. He was closer to you than you could ever recall, if that could be possible. His scent was driving you insane from this up-close. He could always read you better than anyone else and that had its perks but this time, you wished you could just hide your emotions at the bottom of the sea.

‘You did not tell me what is it that I should believe,’ that made Loki errupt in a string of laughter.

‘You silly girl, why would you doubt for even a second that I have become irrevocably infatuated with you? I have been in love with you for months now, Y/N. I think anyone who has eyes saw this besides my best efforts to not ruin what I have with you. You are all that matters to me.’ He brought his other hand up to cup your face and caress your cheeks with his thumb. His face held the softest look you have ever seen. A beautiful, timid smile was reaching his eyes that were pouring right into your own.

‘Why didn’t you come to me sooner? I have loved you silently for so long, Loki.’

‘How could I ever dream that the Universe would grant me your love? My darling, even tonight, there were moments in our conversation when I thought you were talking about my brother or perhaps some other man. Men who deserve your heart. Not me. How could it ever be me? How could you ever choose me?’ There it was again, that crippling self-doubt that Loki carried in his mind and in his soul. You hated it.

‘Oh, Loki. It’s always been you. I think I chose you on the day that I was born. And if I were to be ripped from this Earth and be reborn somewhere else, I would break the world apart with my bare hands to find you and to keep choosing you. Over and over again. Until the end of time itself. In this lifetime and in any other.’ He closed his eyes for a few seconds at that. A breaking breath made its way out of his lips as you slightly turned your head to kiss the inside of his hand.

‘May I kiss you right now?’ Loki whispered, his voice barely reaching your ears. He was nervous. Now that was a look you never thought you would see on the God of Mischief. And in the dim light of the kitchen, with the moonlight casting a halo around his black, lucious hair, you could have sworn a slight blush was adorning his beautifully structured cheeks and you thought he looked like an angel. You nodded your head and without even realizing, his lips were on your forehead. He placed a deep, long kiss there and you closed your eyes to take this feeling in. Then he went on to gently kiss both of your eyelids, and your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You softly giggled at that one. And then his lips were on yours and there was no turning back. If you would be able to freeze a moment in time and frame it so you could relive it for a hundred lifetimes, it would be this one.

What a funny thing, Loki thought. To live for centuries as an immortal God and yet to find that the only lips who could ever fit against yours are those of a human. You sweet, precious human, how could a heart as pure as your own ever be destined to love the heart of a beast? He could never voice these thoughts in your presence because every single time he did, you would try so vehemently to show him how worthy he was that he sometimes started to believe it. And he could not afford to believe things like that about himself. And yet, there was this warmth and passion in you that he sometimes would find in his own mind. Initially, he thought them to be tricks. Tricks in which his conscience would stop being cruel and in which he started to believe he deserved to be loved. Tricks in which you made him feel like he was enough. He would learn in time that you were right.

‘I am gonna get you back for this though, trickster,’ you said between kisses.

‘Oh, I can’t wait to see it.’

You two pulled back when there seemed to be no more air in the Realms and he rested his forehead on yours.

‘You know, I honestly thought you would have deconspired me when I freaking giggled at your joke about ‘Sense and Sensibility’ that one time. I was mortified,’ Loki said after some time. You laughed out loud at that. Both of you. And for many nights to come, the moon would find the two of you laughing.

one of the most iconic fights in mcu

Playing Cupid | Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Everyone knows Natasha Romanoff is in love with you. Everyone knows you are in love with Natasha Romanoff. Well, everyone except the two of you. You're both oblivious and quite frankly, Yelena has had enough. So she decides to enlist the help of the Avengers for 'Project: Get Nat & Y/N Together'.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warnings: strong language, brief mention of an injury, brief mention of gagging/feeling sick (jokingly), jealous natasha, protective natasha, whipped reader and natasha, yelena & kate best duo, not canon compliant with the mcu

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who liked or reblogged 'Querencia', it really truly means a lot to me. so i present to you this fic that i thought of at 2am before falling asleep! who doesn't love some oblivious best friends to lovers?

How a trained assassin could be so goddamn oblivious was beyond Yelena. The blonde stared at the scene in front of her, her eyes narrowed in obvious confusion.

"UNO!" Natasha yelled triumphantly before slamming down a red reverse card, a smug smirk on her face.

A cough came from Steve, "Y/N? It's your turn."

"Hm?" You snap out of your reverie, your cheeks turning a shade of red at the fact that Steve had obviously caught you staring at Natasha, "Oh, yeah, right," you rub the back of your neck awkwardly before quickly putting down a random red card.

"You alright, Y/N/N? You look a bit red." Natasha questioned, her brows furrowed in concern as you desperately wished for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

A cough that sounded a lot like 'Fucking hell' came from Yelena, which earned her a glare from you before you plastered on an overly bright smile as you answered Nat, "Yeah, just a bit warm, that's all, Tasha."

"Oh, do you want a drink? I could get you some water with ice, that'd cool you down," Natasha was already halfway standing before she had even finished her sentence.

Yelena yanked her back down onto the couch, "Just finish the game, they're fine. They aren't going to die from heatstroke."

That was the first time Yelena had noticed how oblivious you two were. You both looked at each other with so much love and adoration in your eyes that it honestly made Yelena feel a bit sick. Anyone could see it, but maybe you two were just selectively blind.

"No, absolutely not, you are not going on that mission. It's too dangerous."

"Nat, I'll be fine. I can handle myself."

"No."

You cross your arms, quirking an eyebrow at the stubborn redhead standing in front of you, "Natasha."

She copied your pose, "Y/N."

You sigh exasperatedly, the side of your lip turning up slightly at Natasha's childish antics, "I will be fine."

"I don't care, you're not going."

"Since when were you my mother?"

"I am merely a worried best friend."

You smile fully at that, uncrossing your arms and pulling her into a hug, "You are so infuriating sometimes, I promise you I'll be fine."

She huffs but returns the hug, "Fine. But you better not die on me."

Tony broke the sweet moment with a resounding clap, "Right, if you two are done acting like a married, bickering couple, are we all agreed that Y/N will go on the mission?" Murmurs of agreement and nodding of heads from the rest of the team, whilst you and Natasha had both turned a very vivid shade of red at the fact that Tony had referred to you two as a 'married, bickering couple'.

Yelena shared a look with Clint that quite clearly said, 'I'm going to murder them both.' Clint nodded in agreement.

"I fucking told you so," Natasha's angry voice filled the MedBay, her hand squeezing yours tightly as you lay on one of the beds.

"Okay, okay, no need to rub it in." You try to laugh, but immediately wince at the shooting pain up your side.

"No, no laughing, you'll hurt yourself. And I am not trying to rub anything in, I just told you the mission was too dangerous to go on by yourself! You should've brought me with you! Or someone! Just- you shouldn't of went by yourself. Look what happened!" Natasha's worried ramble was the only thing filling your ears. Her eyes were looking everywhere but at you, as if even the mere sight of you injured broke her.

You squeezed her hand tightly to bring her attention back to you, "Natty, I'm fine, okay? Yes I got hurt, but that's just a risk we have to deal with because of our job. I'm fine, and even if I brought someone else with me, they probably would've gotten hurt too. Better just one person injured than two."

Natasha narrowed her eyes, playing with your fingers as she pouts at you, "You're an extremely important person to me."

You turned your face away from her to hide the red that was inevitably spreading up your neck and face.

Whilst you were injured in the MedBay, and Natasha was inevitably fretting over you and making herself worried sick, Yelena had very sneakily sent a message to the rest of the team to meet in the conference room for a 'meeting'.

She strode into the room, the confused whispers immediately dying down upon her entrance. "Avengers," she greeted, "Honorary Avenger," she nodded to Kate, who gave her a mock salute. "I have called you here today with a top priority mission."

"So why isn't Natasha or Y/N here?" Peter asked in confusion.

Yelena stared at him as if he had just asked the most stupidest question, "Because Y/N is currently injured, and Natasha is with them. And this meeting is in fact about Y/N and Natasha, Spider-Boy."

"It's Spider-Man," came the small whisper. Yelena deigned to ignore it, flicking on a presentation, the title screen reading 'PROJECT: GET Y/N AND NATASHA TOGETHER (asap).'

"Ohh, I like this, I should've brought snacks," Kate piped up, rubbing her hands together excitedly. Yelena's glare quickly shut her up.

"As I'm sure you've all noticed," Yelena begun, "Natasha and Y/N are well, quite clearly, in love with each other. But they're both fucking oblivious-"

"Language."

"I will hit you, capsicle, shut up. Anyway, as I was saying, they are both fucking oblivious and I have reached my wit's end, to put it simply. If I have to go one more day having to stare at my sister giving Y/N heart eyes, I am going to become violently ill. Everyone has noticed it, even the goddamn fans have noticed it-" The presentation turned to another slide, which had a screenshot of a tweet that read 'omg nat & y/n r literally adorable together can they pls get together already look at the way they look at each other' with a selection of photos of the two of you looking very much oblivious and in love. Yelena shuddered dramatically before continuing, "We need to do something about this. ASAP."

Kate raised her hand. Yelena looked at her in confusion for a couple of seconds before cautiously asking, "Yes?"

"I have a few ideas, if I may, Ms. Belova," Yelena gave her a nod to go on, "Alright, so. How about this: Tony throws a party, we get Y/N to flirt with some people, and we make Natasha really jealous. Boom, angry, jealous love confession."

"Oh yes, that's a good idea!" Peter piped up excitedly, throwing two thumbs up Kate's way.

"Now how on Earth would that work?" Tony asked in confusion, earning an extra confused glance from Kate.

"Have you never read fanfiction? Or romance books? It always works in them."

"You're the only one who reads fanfiction here, Kate," Yelena said, "but that actually isn't a pretty bad idea. Does anyone else have any other ideas?"

"Aren't you the trained assassin? Shouldn't you have amazing ideas?" Tony questioned.

"Unfortunately, Stark, playing Cupid was not on the curriculum."

Tony shrugged, "Shame."

"No other ideas?" Yelena looked around at the rest of the team, desperately not wanting to do Kate's idea. She sighed in defeat, "Fine. Kate's idea it is. Which, is likely not going to work, since my sister is awful at feelings."

It was a Friday night after the 'meeting', and Kate's plan was in action. Tony's party was in full swing - as it always was - throwing parties was just one of his many, many talents. Truthfully, Yelena had never expected to be sat at a bar in the Avenger's Tower in a red, skin-tight dress, spying on you and her sister. The wonders of life, she mused as she took a sip of her drink.

Surprisingly, Kate's idea actually seemed to be working. You were talking to someone, obviously very intrigued in whatever they were saying as you let out a laugh, hitting the person's shoulder lightly. Natasha, on the other hand, was staring at you from the other side of the room. Bruce was talking to her, but the poor guy was only getting a nod now and again. Natasha's grip on her glass was so tight that Yelena wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if it shattered in her hand any second now.

Kate caught Yelena's eye, giving the blonde two big thumbs up which Yelena responded to with a raise of her glass. It only took a split second when Yelena had turned away for Natasha, it seems, to reach breaking point, as the redhead stormed over to you and grabbed your arm, yanking you away from the person you were talking to and leaving them standing there bewildered.

Natasha dragged you into an empty hallway before pushing you against the wall, "God, Nat, what's wro-" you had never got to finish your sentence as Natasha smashed her lips against yours. You let out a gasp in surprise before you eagerly kissed her back, your hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, you both pulled away. You stared at the messy and disheveled Nat in front of you in amusement, "What was that for?"

Now that Natasha's jealousy had subsided, her cheeks turned as red as her hair as she replied, "Honestly not the way I wanted to confess, but seeing you smiling and laughing with them back there made me- I don't know, I just didn't like it."

"Oh my god," you let out a burst of laughter, earning a glare from Nat, "Natasha Romanoff was jealous."

She looks at you, her eyes narrowing, "I was not!"

"Oh you so were, that is so funny."

She glares at you, pouting. You smile before giving her a small kiss on the lips, "You are so adorable."

The moment was broken by a yell from the end of the hallway, "FUCK YEAH! IT WORKED! YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS STARK!" Kate Bishop's voice rang in your ears as Nat pulled you out of the hallway. You rounded the corner to find Tony begrudgingly handing 20 bucks to Kate, who patted him on the back in thanks before walking away.

"You betted on us?" Natasha asked in disbelief.

"Oh, no, it wasn't just a bet," Yelena smiled in satisfaction, "it was an entire mission. You can call me Cupid from now on, sestra."

"I hate you." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Mhm, sure you do." Was Yelena's response.

It was definitely a lie, Natasha thought as she squeezed your hand and placed a kiss on your cheek which earned a gag from Yelena and a 'Oh no, what have I done?'. Nat winked playfully at you, and you smiled to her in return.

Natasha Romanoff + Make You Dinner

A/N: idk after the success on my last piece i am suddenly back on a natasha kick as if I ever got over her lmao please enjoy this silly little headcanon i put together <3

No one would have truly guessed it but Natasha Romanoff is a fantastic cook

However, she only tended to use her skill when she was cooking for others

If it was just her eating, forget it. Peanut butter sandwich was enough. She didn’t have the energy to shell out a whole meal for herself

This meant that for a while, Natasha was simply not cooking. She just really didn’t have anyone to cook for.

Even among the other Avengers, someone else usually stepped up or they went their separate ways for meals

Natasha didn’t think it bothered her, really…

Until she met you.

Once she met you, she realized very quickly that she had missed cooking. Had missed serving someone a meal, a meal full of love and appreciation.

And you certainly weren’t one to turn down a nice home-cooked meal. After having left your childhood home, meals that didn’t start frozen or weren’t from the diner down the road were rare

Enter Natasha into your life and you were set

Your absolute favorite is when she’d surprise you with a meal after work

Setting your schedules to align had been tricky given the fact she had an…atypical career while you worked a regular 9 to 5

But when everything fell into place, you could expect to come back to your apartment to smell something baking away, something simmering on the stove, and your girlfriend dancing around the kitchen

"Well, isn’t this a lovely sight?" you’d sigh as you entered your home. Natasha blushed as she stirred a pot of something that smelled delicious

"Just thought you should have a good home-cooked meal when you got home," she’d reply. You swore you were going to melt on the spot. How dare she be so cute and caring?!

It was all so fun for you that one year for her birthday you gifted her a cheesy "kiss the cook" apron and now she wears it every single time she cooks, no matter what

Of course, you respected the apron and kissed her whenever you’d find her in the kitchen working away

More often than not, this led to little kitchen quickies

But they were serious quickies — Natasha was skilled in more ways than one and she was not letting her masterpiece meal burn

One time you even convinced her to cook for the Avengers

She had been incredibly hesitant as her kitchen wizardry had only been known to you

And borderline reserved for you

But you deemed her meals too good to keep for yourself so after work one day, you showed up back at your apartment with the whole team trailing behind you

Natasha absolutely lost it, worried she didn’t have enough food but you assured her you did

She always did

"Honey, it’s fine. You always make enough to feed an entire army," you insisted.

She’d scoff. "They eat more than an entire army."

But all worries just washed away as the team started fawning over your girlfriend’s cooking and started berating her, asking why she hadn’t done this for them before!

"You never asked," Natasha would respond. Everyone would look at her dumbfounded.

"We didn’t know!" Steve would exclaim.

You enjoyed watching the scene unfold while you snacked on a homemade biscuit. "Well, now you do," you’d respond, a little devilish smirk on your lips as you eyed your girlfriend.

That was that. Natasha could add chef to her resume, right behind superhero. And she loved that.

Andrew Garfield as Spiderman #2: 

SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME (2021)

Bonus:

Texts from Loki

Masterlist

Sound Proofing

TFL tag list: @ietss @theaudacitytowrite @anonymousfiction211 @shadyfarmcookiefish @tiredmamamac @69dyn420 @kneelingsince2012 @winchestersgirl222 @storytheanimist @wildflowerwattpad0217 @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @dunohilly @darkacademicfrom2021 @browneyedgirl365 @youonlylizonce @blackwidownat2814 @d1a2n389 @raven762 @immersed-in-mischief @likeitloveitblogit @owldwagitoutofyou @1marvelnerd3000 @nevenabadr @oceanmermaidwitch @apine7 @justasecretwriter @xorpsbane @lokiprompts

TOM HIDDLESTON ( LOKI) - MCU BACKSTAGES | MY EDITS |

PH: "Douglasnoemakeup"

i love when tragedies are like “the love was there. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there”

DO NOT STAY UP LATE TO WRITE YOU’LL REGRET IT NEXT MORNING

you wanna talk about why content creators are leaving tumblr and leaving you high and dry without material to fantasize over? let's talk about it.

hmm, lets see!

first of all, none of you fucking care to reblog our work. we are all aware of how tumblr's algorithm is absolute trash. writers have been BEGGING for readers reblog their works bc it's the only way our works can be seen and in turn, we receive the fruits of our labor via followers and exposure. but no, lets make MORE THAN HALF of the likes to reblog ratios consist of fucking LIKES. on top of that, we don't we shit on writers for wanting the absolute BARE MINIMUM aka a REBLOG bc well, they're not entitled to it aren't they? while writers aren't necessarily entitled to notes, answer this; do you work for free? do you bust your ass doing something knowing that there will be no pay off what so ever? that's what i thought.

secondly, you treat us like shit. you expect us to spit out content like we're a machine and when we don't get to it on time bc we have - idk - LIVES, you send the shittiest asks demanding for more content that you aren't even paying for. do you think people are gonna neglect their real life responsibilities to write for YOU and for FREE? absolutely not. on top of that, when we start writing for ourselves and our own spaces, we get push back. yea, not an effective way to encourage your favorite fic writers to give you more content to consume.

and lastly, YOU STEAL FROM US. each and every fic that a writer puts out has taken hours, days, weeks, or even months to write. that's lots of hard work and time invested into one single piece for you. free of charge. people put their fucking hearts into their work. and what do you do in return? disrespect them in one of the most hurtful ways possible.

so yea, i don't blame a single fucking person for leaving this shithole and NONE of you should be surprised. this is YOUR doing.

Loki and Y/N having a little discussion

Y/N: You're stupid

Loki: Well, you're dumb

Y/N: I don't like your hair

Loki: *dramatic gasp*

Thor: Oh my god they went there

Tony: Loki, no!

Loki: Loki, yes!

Thor: Loki, no.

Loki: Loki... Yes.

Tony: Y/N!

Loki: Fuck...

Y/N: *entering the room*

Loki: Loki, no...?

Y/N: Loki, yes.

Loki: Loki, yes!

Tony: WHAT THE F- Y/N!

Y/N: *leaving the room*

*reads a gorgeous line in a fanfic* oh my god. how is this possible. how did they even fucking think of this. the symbolism is spot on. the planets are fucking aligned, everything is one and all and the world is complete, my soul is at peace

This fic is literally so good, literally my new fav

literature and lust (professor hiddleston)

AO3 here

hi my loves happy Valentine's Day! a completely self-indulgent Professor Hiddleston fantasy for you to celebrate <3 remember that Valentine's Day is actually a manufactured capitalist holiday and nothing matters!! happy horny dreams

Summary: Professor Hiddleston hates Valentine's Day. But he sure as hell doesn't hate you. He can't resist inviting you over as he grades your exam. The only catch? He gets to punish you for every question you get wrong.

Tags: 18+ only, minors DNI, smut, bdsm, cockwarming, spanking, dom! hiddleston and sub. reader, degradation kink, begging, pain kink, breeding kink, "slut", dirty talk, aftercare, slightly whumpy, corny ending, probably typos

Your fingers hovered over your open text messages, shaking slightly. You’d spent the last two hours in your steaming bathroom, shaving every crevice of your body bare and blow-drying your hair until it fell in a shiny curtain around your shoulders. Glitter shone on your eyelids in the pale lamplight, a delicate pink dusting of blush all over your cheeks and nose.

No, it wasn’t girls’ night out. It was, unfortunately, Valentine’s Day. And the fate of your evening rested on the success of the text you were about to send.

Your stomach was in knots as you obsessed over it. Staring at every word for typos until your eyeballs hurt, trying to picture the reaction of the man on the other end of the phone.

Enough. Fuck it. You hit send.

You: Hello Professor, I was wondering if you were okay? You just seemed very stressed today in class and I wanted to know if I could do anything?

A few seconds passed before the three little dots popped up, then disappeared again. You smirked. He was never one to keep you waiting.

Prof. H: Why would you ask me that?

Oh, god. You tried to remind yourself he liked being coarse with you. It was part of his act. But still, you couldn’t help a little thrill of fear as it shot down your spine. You had already crossed so many lines. What if he changed his mind? With shaking thumbs, you tapped out a response.

You: Only because I’ve made you feel better in the past.

Prof. H: I’m about to grade your exam. Choose your next words carefully.

You: Wait for me?

The three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. You waited, scarcely breathing. Then, finally-

Prof. H: You have 20 minutes. Wear a skirt.

Your shoes were already on, purse string around your shoulders. The invitation was like a shot from a gun, the way you sprung into action.

You thought this bliss was too good to happen again and god, you were so happy to be wrong. Two weeks had passed since you’d last been bent over his desk, crying out his name as he found places inside of you that you didn’t know existed until you met him.

You were so sore the next morning that you had to lower yourself gingerly into the hard lecture seat with your arms. He’d watched you over the rims of his glasses as he tapped away on his laptop, the tiniest trace of a smirk gracing his lips as you hid the results of his work in plain sight.

It was wrong. So deliciously wrong. You couldn’t stop thinking about it.

And now, you had twenty minutes to cross town and knock three times on his expensive apartment door.

—----------

Your steadying breath as you knocked did little to help your nerves. You felt your stomach do a backflip as the door creaked open, revealing the tall, brooding figure that haunted your wet dreams. Professor Hiddleston considered the flush in your cheeks, the red on the tip of your nose from the cold city air before he spoke in a clipped tone.

“Come in, darling,” he said. “You know I don’t like to wait.”

He turned, his broad shoulders leading you through the door and down the hallway towards his office.

He stopped at his drink cart, where six different glass decanters shone elegantly. Each held a different kind of whiskey that you were sure cost more than you made in a week.

His fingers drummed on the cap as he considered one, then unstoppered it with a nod. He poured two deep glasses, not bothering to ask if you wanted one. He handed it to you, a sly smile on his lips.

“To your GPA, my darling,” he said as he clinked your glass with his.

Your brows knitted in concern as you took a long drag from your glass. You had learned it was easier to drink it quickly.

“Should I be worried?” you said meekly, suppressing a cough from the burning liquid. He considered you, loving how you seemed to quiver under his gaze.

“Not if you behave,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Come.”

He put a hand on the back of your shoulder and led you down the rest of the hallway. The elegance of the office matched his demeanor perfectly. Sharp, polished, timeless. Bookshelves lined the walls, and you were sure from the way he taught your English class that he had read every single one. He took your empty glass from you and placed it on top of the crackling fireplace before he spoke.

“So,” you cleared your throat from where you perched on the sofa. He looked up at you, eyebrows raised in attention. “What had you in such a bad mood today, Professor?”

“Ah. Ha ha,” he chuckled with no humor. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just not a fan of, erm, Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, okay,” you replied, slowly. You knew little about his personal life, except that he liked a rough fuck and that he’d been divorced a few times. His terseness made sense now.

“Bad memories?” you squeaked cautiously.

He looked at you seriously, then back down at his shoes.

“I guess you could say that.”

His leather loafers were loud on the wooden floors as he slowly approached you, withdrawing his veiny hands from his pockets.

“But darling, you're not here to talk about that shit, are you?” he said in a low, sultry voice. “You’re here to be fucked senseless.”

His hands caressed your waist as he backed you into the wall. As your eyes shut, his hands explored your body, his huge palms covering an entire breast, gripping your forearms, squeezing the curve of your ass as he shimmied your skirt up.

He made a noise in his throat when his finger met no barriers. “No panties,” he said slowly. You met his gaze with equal intensity, as if to say what about it?

“What an overachieving slut,” he snarled, his thumb making its first contact with your clit. Your head fell back, a deep moan escaping up your neck as pleasure radiated from where his fingertip circled. But the pleasure was brief. He stopped after just a few pulses, his lips inches from where yours craned to taste him.

“Your grade determines how good you feel tonight, my darling. Do you understand?”

You nodded once. Pleased, the professor removed his finger from between your legs as you whimpered.

“Good. Now, come warm my cock while I mark your exam.”

He strode over to his desk chair with his hands in his dress pant pockets, like he was oblivious to the floods gushing between your legs at his command. Brown trousers, with a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled neatly at his elbows.

He sat down in his plush leather chair, his thick thighs spreading wide as a comfortable seat. His hands rubbed over and over his thighs as you approached, a gesture that looked casual but you knew meant he was ferociously horny. You stood in front of him, trembling, his dexterous hands unzipping his pants and freeing his semi-hard cock. Then he spun you around and flipped your skirt up, your bare ass facing him.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath as he drew you closer to him. He growled in his throat as he took your ass in both hands, caressing and squeezing deep fingermarks in the plump skin.

He slapped you a few times, gentle in comparison to what you knew was coming, each time making you bite your lip in pain and pleasure. It only took a few pumps of his hand against your ass until his cock was straining.

“Sit,” he commanded. You turned around instantly and straddled him, one hand grasping his cock to guide it towards your dripping folds, the other bracing yourself against his firm shoulder. It was a tight squeeze without his fingers to warm up your cunt and you winced a little at the sudden thickness. The pain of him stretching you was temporary, you told yourself, and you sank deeper, whimpering with every centimeter that it disappeared inside you.

Tom moved his hips a little, exhaling in impatient encouragement. His cock slipped deeper inside of you a little too quickly with his movement, causing you to cry out.

“Shit…” you hissed between your teeth. “You’re so big, Professor,” you whimpered.

“I know.” He sounded bored.

His lack of enthusiasm at your tight cunt had you in shambles. You needed his praise, you needed him to show you that your pussy was his favorite. Nearly crying out in desperation, you wiggled your hips a little more, urging your body to loosen up enough to take him to the hilt. With a gasp of pleasure from you, the rest of his length disappeared inside you, and your thighs finally settled on his lap.

“MMmmffuckkk….” you groaned at the delicious full sensation in your lower belly.

You watched his expression carefully for any sign of pleasure. To your delight, Professor Hiddleston was unable to suppress the scrunch that passed over his eyebrows the moment your cunt unexpectedly clenched around his entire length. Sure, the man could keep his mouth shut when he wanted to. But that fleeting moment of pleasure that passed over his expression was like an electric current propelling you forward. You needed more. You wanted to please him so badly. You would do whatever it takes to hear him moan your name.

“Hm. I didn’t think you’d be able to take it raw,” he remarked in such an easygoing tone, he could have been talking about the weather. “You’re more of a slut than I thought.”

You moaned and you pitched forward into his shoulder, unable to resist grinding your hips up and down where his cock impaled you.

His hands flew to your waist in warning and gripped you with bruising fingertips, pushing you away from where your lips caressed his neck. The pain only made you moan louder.

He tsked. “You are always so needy.”

Embarrassment flushed your chest in crimson red.

“I’m s-sorry, Professor.”

“I have work to do. You’re not to move. Do you understand?” he said lowly.

“Mmmm…” you whimpered, your head falling back as his cock twitched inside of you.

Professor Hiddleston spanked you, hard on the ass.

“I asked if you understood,” his tone was even and cool, despite the fact that his punishing palm had caused your cunt to tighten briefly around him. You marveled at his self-control, both infuriating and compelling. He was a challenge to conquer.

“Yes…yes…yes, Professor…” your words were babble. “I understand. I’ll be good. I will show you.”

“We’ll see.” Professor Hiddleston replied shrewdly and picked up his pen, opening the cover of the exam with your name on it. He rolled the office chair closer to the desk, the movement producing a small thrust inside you that made you bite your own thumb to stay quiet.

The minutes felt like hours as you sat wedged with your professor inside you, dripping down his trousers. The only sound was the crackling fireplace and the scratch of his pen on paper as he checked off answers.

“First page is all correct. Smart girl.” Professor Hiddleston said softly, completely unfazed by the tightening of your cunt that happened every time he moved his arm. You rubbed your eyes in

desperation. The exam was nearly 100 questions.

The first admonishment came on the third page. The professor’s pen suddenly scratched a large “x” instead of a check and he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Oh, dear. You mixed up Act I and II in Hamlet, darling.” The professor removed his hand from your exam and lifted your skirt with the other, smacking a wide palm on your ass that rippled up your thigh. You muttered a sharp curse at the punishment.

He rubbed the stinging mark chastely, returning his hand to flip the page.

“I know, darling, I’m sorry,” his voice slightly condescending. “You know the rules. You fail to pay attention in my class, you will be punished.”

At his sharp tone, your cunt had gushed around his cock. Warmth was spreading on his trousers underneath you, soiling his front. You were so desperate to please him.

“You’re being awfully quiet for someone as wet as you,” he remarked, scratching a few notes in the margins of your exam. “Perhaps you’re an obedient little slut after all.”

His teasing was excruciating. You wanted to cry out his name, dig your nails into his shoulders and ride his cock until you collapsed.

“Ah. Another lapse in memory, my dear,” he murmured as he scratched out one of your short response questions. “No, see, Hamlet doesn’t kill Claudius because of Horatio, he chooses not to because he thinks that he will go to heaven. That was explicitly in my notes. Did you not listen?”

“I know, I know,” you whined. “Give it a rest, please, I-I was sick the week we did Act II.”

His response was instantaneous. Your professor flipped your skirt up and spanked you hard enough that tears formed in your eyes. In quick succession, he delivered two more hard smacks until your breath came in a choked sob.

“That was for your sass,” he spat. “You know better.”

Your skin tingled with the bruises that were already forming, and you had to clench your fists to stay quiet. You remembered the first time you discovered that pain turned you on beyond belief, recalling how every one of your failed boyfriends had been too scared, too timid to push you to your limits. Tom wasn’t.

Staying still and quiet was torture. By the seventh page of the exam, you’d received two more spanks for getting questions wrong. Through your cock-drunk haze, you were calculating your grade. It wasn’t so bad, so far.

“I can feel you tightening around me,” the professor said in warning after the second spank. “You’re not going to be greedy now, are you, my little whore?”

“N-no,” you panted, shivering at the tightness in your belly. It was amazing how close you could get with so little friction. The tiny twitches of his cock against your cervix were enough to send ripples down your spine. You were sure he could feel this, too. Every time you squeezed around him, he tapped his pen a little faster on the desk. You did this for fun a few times, bearing down on him for the thrill of seeing him react, no matter how small a response.

Finally, three more spanks later, he folded the front cover back over your exam.

“93, darling,” he sighed. “A minus. I must say I expected better.”

You whined and pitched forward in disappointment, only to be caught by his strong forearm. His hand ripped your shirt off over your head in one swift movement, your breasts perched in a pink lacy bra you’d picked out especially for him.

“Did you wear this for me, sweet girl?” Tom mused as he leaned back in his squashy chair, cupping one breast and running his thumb over the lace. This new position shifted his cock inside you and you had to suppress a moan as it pushed against your stomach.

You only nodded in response, feeling a bit foolish now.

“So eager to please me, hmm?” he murmured, squeezing harder.

“Y-yes, Professor,” you stammered, your head falling.

One finger lifted your chin back up to his face.

“Do you think you deserve to come on your professor’s cock tonight?” he murmured.

Your eyes widened and you swallowed thickly. You knew the right response, but it wasn’t what you wanted to say at all.

“N-no, I d-don’t deserve it,” you whimpered, shivering.

“That’s right,” he crooned, trailing his hands down to grip your ass, spreading you wider where you sat on his cock. “I demand perfection in my class.”

You bit your lip to suppress a sob. His scorn was making your pussy clench unbearably hard around him.

“But,” he said softly, “I suppose I’m not entirely a villain. You’ve been sitting here so nicely, so wet for me.”

Your wide-eyed gaze met his and you reached for him, desperate for any chance to prove yourself.

“Why don’t you beg for this cock like the slut you are?” he growled as his fingers found your throat.

“Please, Professor,” you panted. “I can’t take this anymore. I need you to fuck me.”

“Hmm…” he considered you as he bit his fingertip. “I don’t believe you.”

“Mmmmm….” You whined. It was too much to handle.

“Unless…” he stroked your hair again. “Unless you don’t want it at all?”

“Please, daddy…” you cried out. “I don’t deserve it, I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll do anything for you, please, please just fuck me, I’m begging you, please, daddy, j-just fuck me, fuck me like you want to, like I’m just your dirty little whore. Use me until you fill me with your c-c-cum, please, daddy, please, please…” your pants were desperate and raw.

“Fuck…babygirl,”

Your blinked in confusion, unsure you had heard him correctly. Tom was looking at you with lust flaring in his eyes that was unlike anything you’d ever seen. It was primal, the way he locked eyes with you and began to move his hips achingly slow. His facade dropped, any trace of composure gone with the word “daddy” on your lips. “Say it again. Tell me what you are to daddy,” he growled.

“I-I’m your little c-cumslut,” you cried, the slow movements of his hips making your voice shake. The teasing of the last hour had already gotten you so close, the pulses radiating from your g-spot becoming rhythmic around his cock. Still, you persisted, the thrill of succeeding in cracking him giving you the strength to keep going.

“Y-you can use m-me however you w-want,” you panted, trying to steady your voice through his increasing thrusts.

“Good girl,” he groaned approvingly.

Your desperate hips began to move in tandem with his, deepening his thrusts until your hips rolled in time with his cock, wet, unholy noises escaping from your dripping pussy. You felt so utterly full, his thick cock moving inside of you, just where it belonged.

“That’s a good girl, fuck, taking my cock like a good little slut,” he said, breathless.

“Yes, daddy,” you panted. “This pussy is all for you.”

“Oh-,” he gasped. The twitching you felt inside of you told you he was close, and the way his hands reached around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

“Be-fuck-be a good girl -ah- and come on daddy’s cock,” he groaned into your breasts. His hand found your long hair that trailed down your back and pulled, hard.

“Oh, yes-” you cried. You began to see white spots, the pain from his grip sending you hurtling over a cliff. The only thing you knew was the pounding of his cock growing faster and faster, desperation with every snap of his hips, the tightening sensation in your core unbearable.

“Come like a good girl, that’s it-oh…” Skin slapping on skin. You were crying out for him, your moans interrupted with every thrust.

“Fffu-huck…I’m coming…” your breath hitched as your climax took over. The world dissolved, replaced with an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. You convulsed around his cock, squeezing him in rhythmic pulses that felt like little electric shocks to his sensitive head. You knew your tight grip on him was too much by the way his fingers grabbed your waist, pushing you down as far as you could take him as his final, sloppy thrusts pummeled your insides.

“Mmm-oh, fuck,” he moaned in a low voice. His brows were knitted together in anguished pleasure as he felt you come around him, his hips slowing until they shuddered with his own orgasm.

You arched your back as he filled you with his hot come, your core pulling his release deeper inside. This, this was exactly what you wanted to achieve. Your professor was conquered. Unraveling together, your panting breaths intermingling as his cock sputtered within you.

Your body was jelly as you collapsed against his chest, breathing unsteadily and your vision spinning around you.

Tom was still holding you deep on his cock, locking his seed inside of you. His hands shook slightly on your hips from overstimulation.

“Jesus, fuck-” he breathed into your hair. “You were such a good girl.”

He sounded far away, and your sweaty hands clutched his arms a little harder. You squeezed your eyes closed, willing the room to stop spinning. This was so embarrassing. You scolded yourself for being too nervous to eat dinner.

“Woahwoah-hey,” worry replaced lust in Tom’s voice when you didn’t respond. “Darling, are you alright?”

In one movement, Tom picked you up, removing his drenched cock from you and laying you on the couch in the corner of his office. He tucked himself quickly back into his pants and knelt beside you, concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Hey, talk to me, darling,” he whispered as he stroked your cheek. “You’re pale. Was I too rough?” he sounded distraught.

“No, no, no,” you moaned, your hands flying to rub your eyes in embarrassment. “I just-whew-” The bookshelves spun as you tried to sit up.

“Shh..sh..sh…lie back, love, it’s all right,” Tom crooned.

“This usually doesn’t happen, I swear,” you stammered, trying to save face.

“Hush, darling, I’m sorry. I took far too long teasing you,” he started.

“No!” your eyes snapped to his, smiling in slight annoyance. “That was the best part,” you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillows. “It’s my fault. I was too nervous to eat before I left.”

Understanding dawned on your professor. The corner of his mouth quirked.

“I see. I’ll be right back.”

With a pat to the couch cushions, he strode confidently out of the room. You heard his footsteps echo down the hallway, and you hoped to God that he wasn’t calling you a cab, or worse calling the dean to drop you from his class.

When he returned a few minutes later, the opposite turned out to be true. He had a self-satisfied smile on his lips as he carried in a bouquet of flowers and an elaborate gold box with a bright red bow.

“Sit tight, darling, I’ll fix this,” he said, setting the flowers by your side and untying the red ribbon.

You watched him, bewildered.

At your confused expression, he chuckled. “They’re for you.”

“Tom, I thought you hated Valentine’s Day.”

“Don’t mind that,” Tom said, bringing a piece of chocolate to your lips. “Open your mouth.”

You obeyed. Your teeth broke the shell of the chocolate delicately, the gooey-sweet center spilling over onto your lips and all over his fingertips. .

“Good…” Tom hummed. He stopped your hand from wiping your bottom lip, instead bending down and meeting your lips with his tongue, swirling the sticky-sweetness away with his kiss.

“Mm..” you moaned at the touch of his lips. He broke away with a little nip to your bottom lip, smiling devilishly. He then finished the chocolate you’d bitten, sucking the caramel off his thumb as he pierced you with his blue eyes.

The sugar perked you up almost instantly. The room stopped spinning and you reached for another one, which Tom happily placed on your tongue with his mouth.

“Thank you,” you told him bashfully once you could sit up.

“You did so good for me, darling,” he said softly, stroking the damp hairs on your forehead. “Such a good girl. No one’s ever made me come like that.”

You snorted.

“I find that hard to believe,” you said as you poked him in the chest.

“Nonsense.” Tom scooped you up from where you sat and reclined on the couch, laying you between his legs so he could stroke your forehead.

“I should be thanking you, love. For giving me an excuse to not be a miserable old fuck on Valentine’s Day.”

You chuckled at that.

“What changed your mind?” you prodded, turning your head to nuzzle his hand with your cheek.

“No, no, I still hate the holiday,” he mused. “But it’s different when you have a crush on the smartest girl in your class.”

Your cheeks bloomed, words failing you.

“Can I make you some proper food, darling?”

He grabbed your hand and you allowed yourself to pulled towards the kitchen in a love-drunk haze. Monday was going to be weird, for sure.

Reminder to everyone who reads fics;

Please like❤️ and REBLOG 🔁 fics you guys enjoy!!

For the sake of us writers to keep writing and creating content for all of you - like & reblog fics.

I’ve seen so many fic writers getting discouraged, going on hiatus, or even just completely stop writing lately bc the interaction on our fics is so low. It’s disheartening, not just as a writer, but as a reader who enjoys all these fics that others make too.

A like and reblog takes only a second of your time after reading. You don’t need to add a comment on the reblog if you don’t want to - it’s appreciated but not required. Just the reblog itself is nice bc it spreads our fics across tumblr - making it easier for others to find and experience themselves.

TUMBLR IS NOT INSTAGRAM - likes are nice, but they do NOTHING in regards to getting our fics out.

You have no idea how dangerous you are. You’re supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation, this is Chaos Magic, Wanda. And that makes you the Scarlet Witch.



I love you

A/N: Bonsoir everyone ! This is the very start of my song collection, where I write a one shot based off of a song. The very first one in the collection is going to be ‘I love you’ by Billie Eilish. Hope u enjoy !!

Premise: Loki confronts you about his feelings.

Pairing: Loki x Russian!reader

Warnings: angst, commitment issues, overthinking, I think that’s it?

(NOT PROOF READ)

Word count: 1k (ikik, it’s short >:[ )

Translations: детка = baby Kjæreste = darling

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It was late at night, the sun already finding itself halfway around the world. You were snuggled down in the lap of your lover, watching television as he read his book. His hearty chuckles and obvious discontentment as he read made you smile. You were barely even watching TV anymore. It was more appealing to listen to his reactions and his faint heartbeat.

You had been laid down on his chest for an hour or so, listening to his concave chest before he questioned you.

“Kjæreste?” Loki whispered, putting his book down and resting his hand on your back; sending shivers down your spine. You looked up at him and replied with a quiet ‘hm?’, your eyes heavy from the light.

“I want to take you somewhere.” He smiled quaintly, rubbing your back slightly. As your brows contorted towards confusion, you wondered where on earth it was he wanted to take you at this hour. You had barely been dating for a month, nothing major bound to happen.

“Now?” You mumbled groggily. Loki nodded, patting your back slightly. Your brain began racking around what he could possibly be up to. It wasn’t either of yours birthdays, it wasn’t an anniversary, it wasn’t a holiday, what could he possibly want to do at two in the morning?

“Alright.” You said, laying your head back on his chest for one final breath of his scent, a loud sigh forming in your lungs. As you let it out, you sat up, stretching your arms as Loki scurried off the moment he was free from your weight.

You thought it was odd, making sure you hadn’t forgotten some estranged holiday housed in your brain’s calendar and furrowing your brows once more at the occurrence. He soon returned with his coat and shoes on, as well as yours in hand.

“Here you go kjæreste.” He smiled offering you your coat. His smile warmed your soul. Thor had mentioned that you and his mother were the only two people he had seen Loki smile at. Which felt weird, considering he does it all the time when he’s with you. As you took the coat out of his hand with a yawn, he knelt down and began putting your shoes on.

“Thank you детка.” His cheeks grew red as you spoke, making you smile. After he finished tying your sneakers, he offered his hand to help you up off of the couch.

As you walked to the elevator and all the way to Central Park, where he wanted to take you, not a word had been uttered between you. He held you close with his hand over your shoulder as he guided you to a park bench in front of the Cherry hill fountain.

The silence dared you both to say something. Nothing but your synchronized heartbeats sounding. Until finally he squeezed your hand, forcing you to look at him. As your eyes met,

“I love you.”

Was murmured from his lips.

Your eyes went wide from utter disbelief as your hand lost its grasp on his. As your body unconsciously inched from his, you could hear his heart pound even faster. His lip began to quiver as your thoughts ran wild.

Did you hear him correctly? There’s no way in hell the god if mischief is seriously in love with you. This has to be a cruel joke. Were you even ready to commit if it wasn’t? He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t have. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to say it. What the hell were you thinking, getting involved with him in the first place? It wasn’t like you, you had never done this before. Yet here you found yourself, dumbfounded. The livelihood of your relationship relied on this moment right here, right now, and you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

When you finally came back to reality, you saw his eyes, preparing for rejection. Tears already forming in his eyes. He’s never cried in front of you, and here you are, the root cause of it. Your eyelids fluttered, causing tears of your own to fall. You felt stupid. Not being able to think of a single word. You allowed your mouth to open, hoping it would take over from there. But it didn’t. You sputtered out a single word before he interrupted.

“It’s fine, I understand.” He looked into your eyes one last time, blurry as tears rushed down his face. He carefully stood up, wiping down his slacks before setting off.

You sputtered once again, your eyes trying to catch up with what was happening. As everything fell back in place, you realized his image becoming smaller, realizing this was your last chance. You quickly jumped up, sprinting after him. He didn’t glance back even once. You quickly caught up to him, calling out his beloved nickname.

“Детка,” he quickly turned around as you placed your dainty hand on his shoulder. His face was expressionless. His eyes were puffy and red as he looked down at you.

“I-“ you sputtered once more, eyes wandering his features as you laid your hands on his shoulders. As they wandered up to his cheeks, your brain scavenged for words. Just something to spit out, but you couldn’t find it. Soon enough you had pulled his face gently towards yours, kissing his once soft and smooth lips for what seemed like the last time. His hands met your waist, trailing up to your neck pulling you even closer.

As you finally released, foreheads connected, you found your words.

“I love you.”

He smiled, pecking your lips carefully.

“I love you too.”

You smiled back, grabbing his hand and tugging it back in the direction of your bench. As you sat down together, your head laid in his lap once more, watching the sun make its way back around to you.

You loved him, and he loved you.

There was no doubt about it.

Y/n: I gotta get going

Loki: you should stay a little longer

Y/n: no, I have to go to the lab with Bruce

Loki: okay, oh no I have fallen *falls on top of y/n and lands on the couch*

Y/n: bro I can't get up get yo heavy ass off of me

Loki: oh no my back hurts and I can't move seems like you're stuck here

Y/n: you are like the personification of a straight jacket

Loki: as long as I'm your straight jacket

Loki after Wanda, Sylvie and Strange finally turn to him for help: I’m so glad to hear you all came to me in your time of need. What better way to fuck your way out of something than to ask the biggest fuckup? Now, open your binders to page one! *turns on PowerPoint*

Loki: Lesson one, Manipulate, Mansplain, Manwhore. How to get out of a pickle in the sexiest way possible!