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What if They’re Like Me?

   Summary: Reader is with child and Loki is worried that his child is bound to be like him, a Frost Giant. Loki is constantly having second thoughts about their life together and Reader has to reassure him that she will love him regardless. 

   Warnings: coarse language/mentions of pregnancy/self-doubt/sad Loki

   Word Count: 1615

*NOT MY GIF*

   “Thor?” you called out to your brother-in-law, “Thor? Are you in here?”

   “Y/N? That you?” you heard Thor’s gruff voice as you walked into the corridor. 

   “There you are,” you sighed upon seeing your brother-in-law stuffing his face with grapes, nuts, and ale. 

   “Why’re you looking for me?” he asked as he sipped his cup, “And where’s Loki? Shouldn’t he be hovering over you?”

   “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” you explained, “I can’t find him anywhere” 

   “Well I’m sure he couldn’t have gone far,” Thor shrugged, “Especially with your,” he gestured to your extremely swollen belly, “condition.” He awkwardly cleared his throat.

  You chuckled, “You know it’s not a crime to say the word pregnant. It’s certainly no secret either.” Your hands cradling your bump. 

   Thor laughed as he finished off a bundle of grapes, “I suppose not.” 

   “I’m worried about him,” Thor gave you a puzzled look, “Loki,” he nodded, “He’s been so distant since I���ve started my third trimester. I thought maybe it was just the nerves but he’s hardly ever around anymore. And every time I try to bring up the baby, he’s so quick to change the subject. He isn’t having second thoughts, is he? Thor, has he told you anything?” 

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“I’m not afraid of you. Know that.” + Loki showing the female reader his true form for the first time. I know it's very cliché but I'd like to read it on your writing

maybe it’s cliché but hey it’s an intriguing scenario to think of! here’s my take on how it could go down. thank you for the request!

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You can tell Loki is hiding something from you.

His touches have always been reluctant, and he normally avoids certain topics of conversation, so it’s fairly obvious that there’s something he’s not telling you. You’ve given him countless opportunities to talk to you, always trying to convince him that he can tell you anything, but he just gives you a tight-lipped smile and kisses your forehead, busying his lips with you rather than with talking.

But tonight it all boils over.

You’d kissed him goodnight and pulled the covers to your chin, and as most nights go, had been tugged back against his chest within minutes of the lights being out. Nothing out of the ordinary; you can’t remember the last time you didn’t fall asleep with Loki’s face buried against your neck or tucked securely under his chin.

Tonight, you’re wrapped snugly in his arms and he throws a leg over yours in his sleep, effectively trapping you in his hold. He’s holding you a little tighter than normal, not that you’re complaining, and he spreads his fingers flat against your stomach to press you against him.

His breath is cool against your neck and so steady it starts to finally lull you to sleep, but it suddenly gets colder and you can’t stop the shiver that wracks your body. The blankets can’t give any more warmth and you try to squirm out of his grip, but he’s holding on to you for dear life, fast asleep.

Your teeth are chattering now and you wonder if you had left the window open; it had been raining lately and temperatures were dropping lower than usual at night. But the soft pattering of the rain on the window panes tells you the window is closed, that the chill you’re feeling is coming from inside.

It’s Loki’s hand. His hand on your stomach is pure ice, cutting through your shirt and freezing your skin, and if he wasn’t sleeping so soundly you would have woken him up to move. You try to gently lift his arm off you, but that only results in him holding you tighter, his fingers curling and digging into your skin.

The steady breathing in your ear turns short and strangled, and you know it’s got to be a nightmare. You’ve helped him through many nightmares before, but this time he’s in such a deep sleep that he might not be able to wake himself up as he usually does.

“L-Loki,” you whisper, nudging him in the stomach with your elbow. “Wake up.”

His arm is somehow getting heavier over you, his nails starting to scratch through the thin fabric of your shirt. That’s not what’s scaring you though; why is he so cold??

Now his chest is just as icy, burning your back and you fight against his grip, desperately trying to get away from him. “Loki! You gotta wake up, babe!” You raise your voice and grab his arm to give him a good shake, but yank your hand away with a gasp at the coldness of his skin. “Fuck, please wake up,” you plead, moving as far away from him as his hold will allow.

His body is so cold it feels like a corpse, frozen solid and trapping you shivering in his dead grip.

You manage to free one arm from under him and reach for the lamp by your bedside, and when the dim light falls over the two of you, you can’t stop your terrified scream.

Planting your foot against his frozen thigh, you kick him as hard as you can and positively rip yourself from his arms, tumbling off the edge of the bed.

That finally wakes him up and he shoots straight up, squinting against the light in the room and searching frantically around the room, chest heaving.

It’s…not him. This, this thing in your bed is blue, frozen blue. But it is him, the more you look, it’s his face, his hair, his eyes—oh hell, those are not his eyes.

These eyes are burning a crimson deeper than blood, and they’re looking for you.

You scramble across the floor to shove yourself in the corner furthest from it, unsure if you should call out to it or not. Something inside you wants to run, but the door is so far away and this thing in your bed looks ready to eat you alive, so you just seal your mouth shut and try to shrink behind the bed stand, your teeth chattering loud enough that it can probably hear you.

But those scorching red eyes find you anyways and it throws the blankets off it’s waist, revealing a bare torso just as icy blue, covered in strange markings that look scarily like scars. “Why are you hiding?” It asks hoarsely.

It’s Loki’s voice.

You can’t speak, teeth still clattering together from the air in the room that must be well below freezing. The thing stands up and walks towards you, and you crawl away even further. It reaches a hand towards you and you let out a terrified whimper, flinching away from it.

Then it freezes, red eyes falling on its own hand, the marks and ridges and black nails reaching for you.

It’s gone within an instant and Loki is back standing in its place, his eyes blown wide with horror. His gaze travels from his hand to you, shivering in the corner flinching away from him, and he falls to his knees.

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, words failing as he realises what’s just happened, and he crawls towards your shaking body, pulling you into his arms. You can’t help but fight against his arms, furiously shaking your head at his advances and pushing him away.

If he’s in any way as cold as he had been, you’re convinced one more touch might kill you.

“Cold,” you gasp, kicking a leg out and he falls backwards, stunned.

“Did I…did I hurt you?” He asks frantically, reaching for you again but stopping himself when he sees the terror in your eyes.

You inch along the wall to the bed, staying as far away from him as possible, and grab the blanket to wrap around your shoulders. “What the hell was that?” You hiss instead of answering, scrambling onto the bed and far against the headboard.

He stares at you from his place on the floor, his eyes quickly becoming bloodshot and glistening. He pulls himself back to his knees and kneels at the edge of the bed, pleading with you. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, I’m sorry—”

“That was you?!”

He can’t stop the tears threatening to spill and he hesitantly reaches for you again, not wanting to let himself touch you. “Yes,” he whispers. “Let me warm you. Please, my love.”

“You-you’re not cold anymore?”

“Never again.”

He pulls himself onto the mattress and sits in front of you, hating the way you are staring at him in horror, holding out a hand to you. You hesitantly place your hand in his, flinching away from his touch just in case.

But he’s delightfully warm to the touch. Your hand melts into his, your fingers interlocking and you quickly throw yourself into his lap, needing that same warmth across your whole frozen body. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up your arms and under your shirt, over your back and anywhere else he can touch.

He’s whispering apologies over and over in your ear, disgusted with himself.

“Just…just tell me what that was,” you tell him, grabbing his hand and planting it firmly over your heart, needing to warm your freezing chest.

His thankfully normal green eyes fall back on his hand, feeling your heart pounding under his touch. “You won’t like what I tell you,” he says, sending as much heat through his fingers as he can possibly pull from his frozen body.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m listening.”

He sighs and moves his hand to your neck, not meeting your gaze. “That was my…my true form. Well, other form, I suppose. I’m not sure which is my true form.”

“And why have you never mentioned that?!”

“Because,” he says, “this would happen. You’re terrified, you couldn’t even bear to look at me.”

You stare at him, shocked. “Can you blame me?? I wake up and you’re blue, your eyes were fucking red, and I’m pretty sure I got frostbite just from touching you!”

That shuts him up nicely.

“I’m sorry, Loki, but how was I supposed to not be scared by that?” You reach up and cradle his face in your hands, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb.

“You weren’t supposed to find out about that.” He sounds angry, angry with himself. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have ever seen that.”

“And what exactly was that?”

“That was the form,” he spits, “of a frost giant.”

Boy, that doesn’t sound menacing at all.

“And…and can you control it?” You ask, shame starting to creep it’s way into your heart. You do love him, after all, and you’ve just convinced him you’re disgusted by him. Scared of him.

Shame on you.

He nods and you lean against his chest, trying to show him you’re not scared of him anymore. “Most of the time,” he answers, grateful to be closer to you. “Obviously it can take over my mind when I’m in a vulnerable position—asleep with you—but I promise you, my love, I will never let that happen again.”

“No…Loki, can you show me?” You’re not sure why, but you want to see him again. If that’s his true form, then you have to love that too. Maybe if you’re expecting it it won’t be so terrifying.

“Absolutely not,” Loki says, staring at you in shock. “You’ll never have to see that part of me again, I promise.”

You slip a hand behind his neck and pull him down to press your lips gently against his, trying to ease the guilt you feel for your reaction. “Please, show me. I want to see you.”

He shakes his head again, involuntarily leaning towards your retreating lips.

“Loki. Please.”

If you’re begging, he can’t refuse.

He backs away from you, sitting on the far edge of the bed and closing his eyes, and you watch in awe as that same blue crawls up his skin. He sits in front of you, completely exposed to your gaze, and he slowly looks up, crimson eyes meeting yours again.

This time it’s not as cold. You move towards him and he watches your every movement, waiting to see what you do next. You inspect every inch of him with your gaze, carefully picking up his hand when you finish.

His nails are black against the blue skin, and there’s an intricate pattern of ridges almost like arrows going across the back of his hand.

You trace your fingers along each mark, working your way up his arm and familiarising yourself with the ridges up the underside of his wrist. You want to memorise every inch of him, so you take your time to scour his body with curious touches and loving caresses when you reach his face.

Three lines curve across his forehead, and tiny dots adorn his cheekbones and jawline, cut through by two more lines that strike through the side of his face and extend down his neck.

“You’re…Loki, you’re—”

“Disgusting? Monstrous? Revolting? Believe me, darling,” he spits, “I know.”

You frown and trail a gentle hand over another line of markings that lead down the plane of his chest, across his stomach and down to the waistband of his pants. His entire torso is covered in these strange markings, his body a canvas these ridges and lines have chosen to decorate.

“I was going to say beautiful,” you murmur, unable to look away from his stomach. “Cold, different, and beautiful.”

He laughs bitterly, grabbing your wandering hand. “Don’t waste your breath lying to me.”

“I mean it!”

You lean forward to kiss him again, but he turns his head and your lips land on his cheek instead.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, putting a hand to the other side of his face and pressing your lips to his cheek. “I’m sorry for reacting so badly. For being scared of you.” You kiss him over and over and his eyes fall closed, still not letting you reach his lips. “I’m sorry, Loki, I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t apologise.” He puts his hand over yours and sighs, sinking into your touch. “You don’t have to pretend to like it. This isn’t the form you say you love, and I don’t expect you to.”

His words are so quiet and yet so harsh, ripping your heart to shreds. You move to straddle his lap, dragging your fingertips up his stomach and draping your arms around his neck, pulling him tight against your chest.

“I’m so sorry for being scared, Loki, I really am. I’m not afraid of you. Please, you have to know that. You are beautiful, and I love you.” You tangle your hands in his hair, pressing your lips to his forehead. Thankfully you feel his hands begin to trail up your back and he melts into you, arms wrapped around your waist.

“I get to love you and I intend to do just that,” you promise him, and he finally looks at you, red eyes meeting yours. You smile at him, mesmerised; in this light, knowing that it’s still Loki in this form, he’s utterly enchanting.

Cradling the back of his head, you pull him towards you to place your lips firmly on his delightfully blue ones.

They’re freezing cold, naturally, but you’re determined not to pull away. Thankfully he does after a moment, just barely pulling his lips from your to catch his breath, keeping his forehead against yours and letting your breath fall over his icy lips.

“Oh…my love, you are so warm,” he says softly, dragging his mouth down the heated skin of your neck.

You try your best not to shiver under his frozen kiss, running your hands over the patterns on his back. It may take some time, but you know you can get used to this cold.

“I…I didn’t know you would be this warm against this form.” He’s back on your lips and holding your body against him, desperately trying to feel every inch of you.

“Well, you’re pretty damn cold,” you chuckle, undeniably shivering as his hands slip under your shirt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He quickly pulls away from you and wraps the blanket around your shoulders, a faint almost purple blush tainting his blue face, but you laugh and grab his wrist, tugging him back towards you.

“Don’t you dare stop now. I’ll get used to it one way or another.” You run your hands over his cold skin and press your lips to his again.

“…snowflake.”

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hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @sciluvcatz @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong

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As Midgardians Do (Loki x Reader)

|main masterlist|

summary: Loki and Asgardian!y/n celebrate a holiday together

word count: 1703

warnings: swearing? I think that’s it

a/n: Happy Valentine’s day (it’s currently 11:30 PM where I live so the day’s almost over 💀)

         It all began when Loki, y/n’s lifelong friend, proposed the idea of spending a day as Midgardians do. He told her he was bored and that he wanted to experiment with different Midgardian customs—holidays, to be specific—and that he wanted to celebrate them with his fellow Asgardian, y/n.

         Of course, the girl knew nothing of Midgardian holidays either. She spent most of her days on Midgard wandering around the Avengers Compound while attempting to make sense of the technology surrounding her.

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Lucky - l. laufeyson

a/n; i just want to say a huge thank you to everyone for the likes/comments/reblogs on my first piece posted yesterday! I’m so grateful to each and every one of you! here’s my next work from a work of mine called ‘Serpentine’ found on ao3 & wattpad.

pairing; married! loki x wife! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 642

prompt based; “I knew there was a reason I married you”.

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Loki: I bet you my crown that you can't fit your hand into any space of my choosing

Y/N: okay sure what's the space

Loki: I bet you can't fit your hand in mine

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IMAGINE having a mental breakdown and Loki is comforting you

"OH Y/N, you're my Goddess. And my Goddess isn't supposed to cry. Tell me what happened so I can destroy the one's who are responsible."

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Instagram Imagine

Liked by zacharylevi,yournamehiddleston and 378,472 others

twhiddleston peace. yournamehiddleston

View All 74252 Comments

yournamehiddleston i’m batman

twhiddleston that’s what I thought yournamehiddleston

joshbrolin wrong universe. yournamehiddleston

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Instagram Imagine

Liked by chriscapevans,evangelinelillyofficial and 87,588 others

yournamehiddleston daddy’s curls 🙄

View All 46232 Comments

twhiddleston oh yeah😍

chriscapevans sooo cuuutee

zendaya and mommy’s eyelashes😊😍

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Erik’s daughter’s sass

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That’s My Girl- Cable x Reader

Summary: Cable is proud of his girlfriend.

a/n- so glad I finally had some Cable inspiration. Let me know what you think, comments and reblogs help me out a lot.

-

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Dating and living with Tom Hiddleston?

Living with Tom Hiddleston would include:

Cooking together

Lying tangled together on the couch as you both read

Long, long periods where he wasn’t home

Deciding if you are just going to follow him around the world while he works, or just be home alone a lot

Adding to his library

Drinking both tea and coffee all day long

An excessive amount of sugar being kept in the house

Morning and afternoon teas as well as pudding after dinner

Visiting him on set

Him grabbing you and dancing with you randomly, even when there was no music

Touches as you pass each other in the hall

Hugs that just last forever

Talking Shakespeare

Marathon sex sessions

Talking about things you’re going to show your future kids

Going for country drives in the Jaguar

Random acts of silliness

Hanging out in groups with his friends

His hands tangled in your hair when you kiss, or even just sit with him

Scissors, paper, rock over who has to stack the dishwasher

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A: Nathan

B: Eira

C: Wade

OTP Prompt #12

Person A & B: *cuddling on the couch happily like cute beans*

Person C: *snuggles in between them* Ahh, this is nice

Person A: the fuck

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DYSFUNCTIONAL HEARTS - KLAUS MIKAELSON (ORIGINALS)

Prompts: “The heart wants what it wants.”

“Yeah, and if could get your brother’s to stop wanting to rip others out of their rib cages, that would be great.”

IDEA: Someone in the Quarter disrespects you so Klaus makes a spectacle of them. Talking to Elijah

Birds were singing, children were playing, and Klaus was screaming at some Vampires. Nothing out of the usual. However, Klaus’ anger was directed at only one Vampire in particular. This Vampire had decided to use some perverted pick-up line on you in the hopes of scoring a date. Instead, it scored him public humiliation as Klaus had overheard him.

“That is my girlfriend and you will treat her the utmost respect! If you even dare hit on her again, you will find yourself without a head!” Klaus boomed, his voice carrying around his empire.

To add fuel to the fire, the Vampire didn’t even look scared. He looked cocky.

“Well, she didn’t exactly say no. Did she?” He said smugly.

Turning to face the Vampire, Klaus’ face has morphed into his Hybrid features and the Vampire visibly gulped.

“What is wrong with your brother? Yeah, it was a disgusting comment but does he have to be so protective?” You asked Elijah as the pair of you stood at the top of the staircase, looking down at the scene below.

“He does it because he loves you.”

“And he needs to kill people because of it?”

“What can I say? The heart wants what it wants.” Elijah smirked, noting your frustration at his brother.

“Yeah, and if you could get your brother’s to stop wanting to rip others out of their rib cages, that would be great.” You muttered as Klaus charged at the Vampire, pulling his heart from his chest and tossing it out on the floor, letting the body floor and glaring at everyone else. “Great. That’ll need to be cleaned up.”

Elijah chuckled as you marched down the stairs to tell Klaus off for the mess he made. The pair of you made a great, albeit dysfunctional, couple.

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Merchant of Death

One-Shot

Description: Mob!Thanos is a collector of the most precious things in the world. But what happens when his eyes upon you?

Warning - Mentions of violence and beheading

Words- 5400~

This one-shot is my entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork ’s writing challenge. I used the following image prompt. Check out this link to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Nobody knew his real name. Nobody cared. Named after the Greek God of death himself, Thanos was modern day’s omen of slaughter. Being the leader of one of the oldest mob families in New York, Thanos commanded a certain level of respect amongst his peers. It wasn’t just that his heritage was daunting. His towering height, broad shoulders, vast expanse of muscled torso and legs were enough to intimidate even the toughest of the fighters. Always dressed in an impeccably crisp suit, his bald head, sharp eyes and a strong, set jaw easily gave the impression that he was the owner of a multi-billionaire corporation.

It wouldn’t be wrong to call his drugs and weapons empire a well-oiled corporation. His 10 fingers were dipped in blood in multiple countries throughout the seven continents, yes even in Antarctica. 

Thanos was a well-known figure. Everybody knew who he was, knew what he did, but nobody, not even the law authorities, could ever connect him with any illegal activity, be it harbouring and selling of illegal guns and drugs, or smuggling goods to his centres across the globe.

For all his wrongdoings, Thanos did donate 10% of his revenue to the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden. Almost like a twisted version of Robinhood, where he ripped off the rich with highly priced drugs and paid a part of the amount to the poor.

For this reason, there were two sides of him which were portrayed in the media, those who earned his favour called him Messiah of the Poor, while the others who had witnessed his ire addressed him as the Merchant of Death. But in both the iterations, it had been made ample clear that nobody could make Thanos bleed.

That’s why it came as a shock when the Chief of Police, Steve Rogers, had managed to shoot Thanos in an encounter. Looking at their leader fall to the ground, Thanos’ men commenced their feral attack on the protectors of the law, driving them back. 

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The Engagement

Part of The Good Girl series, takes place after the events of A Night Out and Making Amends.

Pairing: Donald Pierce x Reader

Word Count: 3100

Rating/warnings: E for sexual content incl. unprotected sex, a tiny bit of hair pulling, cream pie, technically dom/sub but playful. Bad language. Fluff and smut (maybe a tiny bit of angst).

Summary: Reader takes Donald to her friends’ engagement party.

A/N: I was going for fun! I hope it is. Also, I feel like this is the next stage in their relationship, tensions being settled (for now) at the end of A Night Out - Making Amends just a slutty epilogue!

No one would have guessed how frustrated Donald was – all charm and ease but they hadn’t suffered the petulant huffs as he got ready, the muttering under his breath. He liked Krissy and Tom well enough but spending the best part of the day celebrating their engagement was not how he wanted to pass his time, the time he had with you. It was precious and always seemed fleeting – no he had much better ideas on how to spend the day. However, his grumbles were masked as soon as you arrived.

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Transigen

Pairing: Donald Pierce x Reader

Word count: 2700

Rating/ Warning: M, bad language, references to medical procedures, torture and experimentation of mutants in keeping with the themes of Logan (not particularly detailed but there) . Some references to sex and the beginnings of smut at the end. 

Summary: Told from Donald’s POV. Follows a typical day working at Transigen, he reflects on his relationship with the reader and we gain an insight into some of his decisions.

Part of The Good Girl series, takes place after The Apartment.

A/N: Hmm I didn’t enjoy writing some of this, the parts that aren’t really Donnie and the reader. Guess I just like the domestic, romantic, sexy stuff! Glad I persevered though, I’m happy with the result and thought it would be a good opportunity whilst we were in Mexico to explore some aspects of Donnie’s working life.

0830: Transigen Research Facility, Mexico City

The hard slap of Donald Pierce’s combat boots seemed to echo in the sleek, pallid corridors as he stormed towards his office. The passageways filling with people readying themselves for the working day, already looking wan and tired under the harsh, fluorescent lights. He wasn’t late, but typically he’d arrive much earlier when the hallways were almost empty, just the ghosts of the night shift roaming. Shelia, a spectacled strawberry blond, was typing at her desk when Donald approached. Even if he were quieter, she would sense him, the air frigid with fear at the intimidating force that was Transigen’ s Head of Security.

“Coffee and the latest reports.” he barked. He was in no mood to charm subordinates today.

He shut the door to his office, slumped in the executive chair and clacked his teeth, he needed to get his head together. He was in a mood – it wasn’t his anger that was an issue (he could use that) but he felt weak and at the mercy of his jumbled emotions, lacking control and he hated it. He thought that you coming to Mexico would help ease the conflict between the two of you, but he couldn’t allow you freedom in his world and potentially the decision had caused more damage. Why was he so bent out of shape over a woman, you were just a woman, nothing special - except you were. You were everything to him. Had unearthed parts of him he thought lost forever and you had become the focus of his life, his every thought.

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