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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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A Hypnotising Spell

model!Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you with a very sexy clip he shot for an ad - but also for you.

Warnings: suggestive/light smut, flirting, a lot of thirst, sexy Tom?

Word Count: 2,3k

a/n: I had the idea for this oneshot, as I listened to this song...

I just couldn't help myself but to write it...

Masterlist

divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

(Credit for the picture goes to @multifandom-worlds 😁)

"Tell me."

"Not a chance."

Tom shook his head; smiling playfully at you. He knew he was teasing you.

"Pleaaase?" You looked at him with literal puppy dog eyes, but it didn't work. Much to your dismay. "No, darling. I can't. Unless it's not a surprise anymore... And I want it to be a surprise."

You sighed; giving up. "Alright, got it." Tom smiled; pecked your lips softly, before he went to zip his suitcase shut. You watched how his muscles worked underneath the loose tank top he wore and bit your lip. "Not even a tiiiiny hint?"

Your boyfriend looked up at you with a warning, but still playful glare. "Y/N..." "Okay, okay!" You chuckled and lifted your hands in surrender. "I give up!" Tom smirked; something boyish glinting in his oceanic blues. "You better will. Unless, I have to make you shut up." "Nope." You said; popping the p, before you hopped to sit on your little make-up table. Legs crossed and gently swaying them. You palms were anchored to the table; supporting you. "You can't, because you have to be at the airport in exactly... thirty minutes."

"There you go..." He breathed; stepping between your legs and gently pulling your body closer towards the edge of the table. "Caused you to shut up within a mere few seconds."

The handsome Brit standing a few feet away from you beside the bed scoffed. "We both know that I don't even need thirty minutes to shut your pretty mouth."

With three long strides - and before you were able to say something, had crossed Tom the short distance between you. He dipped his head and without further ado let his lips crash against yours; making you gasp. You'd never get used to the incredible feeling of his piercings against your skin - and on your tongue.

You shortly gazed on the clock. Twenty-eight minutes until Tom had to be at the airport. Fifteen minutes until he had to leave your shared apartment.

You smirked; wetting your lips with your tongue. "And..." You started; lifting one hand and slipped it underneath his grey tank top; feeling the outlines of his abs underneath your palm. Tom gasped at your touch, "... what else do you think you could do to make me shut up in... fourteen minutes?" and words.

Due to the angle and the very loose shirt he wore - which was hanging quite low now, gave you a delicious view down his upper body. Inked skin, pierced nipples, rippling muscles and the darker hair growing between his pecs and in a thick line starting from his navel and disappearing underneath the waistband of his black gym shorts.

You let your hand climb higher; gently tucking at his right nipple piercing - making Tom to groan softly. You made it very clear what you wanted - and he knew. "So?"

Without answering you, he quickly slid his hands underneath the back of your thighs and hoisted you up in the air, before your legs found a grip around his waist a few seconds later. You squeaked up in surprise and giggled, when Tom literally slammed you down on the bed; hovering over you. Two hands planted beside your waist on the mattress; strong arms holding him up. A predatory look in his eyes.

You could also swear that those shorts looked tighter than usual. "Fourteen minutes, huh?" "Twelve," you corrected him; voice shaking with anticipation. "Twelve?" He mumbled huskily. "Still enough."

With those words he claimed your mouth with his again, but before you could get lost in his breathtaking kisses, you broke them with a wet pop and pushed him gently. He knew what to do.

Mere seconds later, Tom found himself seated on the edge of the bed. Leaned back with his elbows and forearms supporting the weight of his upper body. His legs were spread. You knelt between them; hands gripping his twitching thighs.

"I'm going to miss you..." You sighed and bestowed another kiss upon his soft lips as you stood at the airport; bidding your boyfriend goodbye. You knew where he was going... Detroit. For one week. He had been hired for a model job. More you didn't know. It was all he had told you. The rest was supposed to be a surprise.

He insisted and you let him.

"I'm going to miss you, too, darling. Even though it's just seven days." You hugged him tightly then. "Text me as soon as you landed, okay?" Tom smiled. "Sure, love. I promise."

While Tom went to work in the US, you got to work inside yours and Sam's studio in London. Your week was packed as well with quite a few photo shootings and other appointments you needed to attend.

Of course you called Tom every day at least once; mostly through video call. No matter how stressful yours or his day was, you'd always make it work someway somehow...

Tom was just jogging down the Detroit Riverwalk, when the music in his ears suddenly changed into the ring phone of his mobile. A look on his Smartwatch told him, that you were the caller. He smiled and immediately tapped the small green button to accept the call.

A shiver ran down Tom's spine. "Don't threaten me with a good time." "Ohh..." You purred. "I never would." The Brit swallowed.

"Hello, darling," Tom panted; was a little bit out of breath due to his jogging. You hesitated on the other end of the line; blinking. "Umm... Am I... interrupting something?"

Your words caused him to chuckle. "No, you're not. I'm just on my daily morning run." "Ahhh, too bad," you answered with a sigh. Tom almost choked at his own spit, but then grinned to himself. "Very naughty, my little minx." "Sorry, babe, but you know exactly how our call ended yesterday night, so..."

This wasn't going how he thought it would...

"Okay, okay, change of topic, darling. I just left the hotel and I don't wish to return straight away..." You giggled once more, "Sorry, I couldn't resist..." and took the first bite of the Cheese Macaroni Sam got you for lunch. "Why are you going on a run this early in the morning?" You checked the time. "It's 7 a.m in Detroit. What the heck, Tommy? I thought I'd wake you up from your sweet dreams, but no..."

You would've loved to talk longer to your boyfriend, but work was calling as well...

Tom chuckled. "I sincerely apologise for disappointing you. Unfortunately, I had to get up earlier, because I have to be at the studio in... An hour." "Ugh... Sounds like a long day is ahead of you, babe." "Most likely, yes." He took a few deep breaths, before speaking again. "And you, love? What are you up to?"

You took another bite of the Cheese Macaroni. "Two photo shoots and a little shopping trip with Sam." Tom smiled; passing by a few people who were walking their dogs. "Sounds great, love. Have fun." "Thanks. And you? Anything else beside whatever it is you need to go to the studio for?" "Not much, honestly. Perhaps having a little swim in the hotel swimming pool, but beside that..." You bit your lip; smiling. "Sounds great. Next time I- Oh... Sam's here. I think I have to keep on working. Have a great day, babe. I love you." "Thank you, darling. I wish you a wonderful day, too. I love you even more."

Five days later, you welcomed Tom back home - and you were absolutely excited. You couldn't wait to see what surprise Tom had for you.

While he unpacked his suitcase, you leaned against the door frame; watching him with anticipation. "You are so impatient, darling." Tom said; chuckling, while he threw his dirty clothes in the hamper. "Yes, obviously, because my boyfriend was away for one week for a single model job and just doesn't wanna tell or show me anything. I wanna seeee!" The Brit chuckled again. He turned to you and walked over; resting both hands on your hips. "And you will, I promise. It just... takes another day or two."

You whined. "Tommy..."

Your jaw dropped. "Whaaat? Why?"

Tom smiled, "You'll see." and pressed a sweet kiss on your nose. You huffed. "That's not fair." "Life isn't."

"What?" You boyfriend answered; giggling.

"Stop being a moralizer. You are already smart enough." Tom couldn't help but laugh out loud. Sometimes he wasn't the only one who behaved like a small child.

He wrapped you up in his arms and brushed his lips over your neck, which caused a shiver to run down your spine at the sensation of his piercing grazing your skin. "I love you."

You smiled. "I love you, too."

Two days later, you came home from work in the evening; throwing your keys on the counter and taking off your shoes, you walked towards the kitchen. Hungry. You were utterly hungry.

You didn't find something to eat, though... Tom was leaning against the kitchen counter with a little, quadratic envelope in his hand. Through the window of said envelope, you could make out the features of a CD.

"Hi, ba- Ohhh... Is this what I think it is?" Tom greeted you with a kiss; then nodded. "Indeed."

You squealed. "Show me!"

"Don't you wish to eat something, first?" He asked; wetting his lips and giving you a glimpse of his tongue piercing. You shook your head. "Nope. I wanna see what you've been up to in Detroit."

Tom smiled. "Alright."

"A... A clip? Tommy, did you do an ad?" Tom smiled down at you and clicked onto it. "Watch and see..."

You squealed once more and followed him into your shared office. He started the computer and put the CD in the drive. Then Tom turned the swivel chair. "Take a seat, milady." You sat down excitedly. He turned you around again, so that you were facing the big screen of the computer. "Are you ready for your surprise?" "Gods, yes!" He chuckled. His way too big hand enveloped the way too small computer mouse as he went to open the file.

You had anticipated to see a lot of pictures, since you thought he had a photo shoot, but there wasn't a single picture to be seen. On the CD was only one file - a clip.

So, you did.

The screen was dark. All you could hear was the sounds of (presumably) Detroit city. Engines, people chatting, car horns, foot steps. But after a few seconds, the sounds of a quite familiar song kicked in... 'It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World' by James Brown.

You swallowed hard. That was one of those typical 'sexy man' songs - and if Tom was anything, then sexy. You hadn't seen Tom yet, but you already knew that it fitted him perfectly.

Tom.

Finally, after a few seconds, the darkness on the screen vanished; turned into an old street in Detroit. Old buildings, old street signs, old traffic lights and old cars.

The camera drifted over the grey asphalt, until it met a pair of brown, almost cowboy-like boots.

The camera climbed up Tom; showed now his long legs, which were covered by loose light blue trousers. Cord trousers.

Then his upper body was shown - perfectly in time with the song.

You swallowed. It looked like typical 70s clothes.

Your boyfriend wore a wide black shirt. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone; exposing some of his tattoos. A silvery necklace hung low across the exposed skin; drawing your attention to the fine, dark hair underneath.

Tom had thrown a dark blue denim jacket over his left shoulder and was casually standing on said street.

This is a man's world, sang James Brown - and the delicious deadly combination of the music and Tom's look almost caused your heart to stop for a second.

He looked drop-dead sexy.

Tom looked around, subtly wetted his lips and started to walk down the street then. His entire backside was filmed - and it all happened in slow motion.

Torture..., you thought. Sweet torture.

You were staring. Simply staring. Shamelessly and certainly not respectfully.

The next shot was a car. An old Jaguar XJ 12 to be exactly... In black.

Tom walked towards the Jag. Then the scene changed and showed how he leaned casually sideways against the hood of the vehicle. Long legs crossed; one hand buried in the pocket of his trousers and the other running through his styled hair.

You almost combusted on the office chair; fingers gripping the armrests tight.

The scene changed once again and showed how Tom sat graciously inside the car and how he drove the Jaguar. A close-up of the opened window with his hand and forearm resting on the door was shown. The camera was fully focused on his hand, which seemed even bigger. Long fingers adjusted the side-view mirror; veins pulsing beneath the skin.

In the background was Tom softly biting his lip; oceanic blue eyes literally shining.

The back of the car and Tom driving down the street was the last thing to be seen, before the screen got dark. The music faded gently with the credits rolling.

You were still staring.

Both, you and Tom erupted into giggles.

"And?" Tom's voice suddenly urged to your ears. "What do you think? Do you like it?" You turned your head and looked at your boyfriend; blinking. "Like it? Like it? Tommy, like is absolutely understated." You scoffed. "That was probably the sexiest thing I have ever seen." Tom smiled cheekily and ran a hand through his blonde-brown locks. "That was exactly what I wanted to achieve."

You bit your lip and stood up; straddling Tom's thighs as he sat on the other swivel chair beside you. "Ohh, really?" You asked; climbing onto his lap. He nodded; "Yes, ma'am." hand immediately gripping your waist. "Very naughty." Tom chuckled. "I thought you knew that, darling." "Well, yeah... You've got a point."

"Please tell me that you still have the clothes from the video." Your boyfriend gave you a smouldering look and winked. "Of course I do."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @crimson25 @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

#bestie boost #sas boost #on the tbr #everybody go read this #the way i screeched seeing this notif pop up

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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Sir that shirt is open to a SLUTTY degree…pop another button. 😳👀

@smolvenger @holdmytesseract @five-miles-over

Tom Hiddleston is William Buxton

in Return to Cranford (2009)

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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An enemies to lovers with the blorbos stranded on a beach?? And that pic you chose just got the thots going 😮‍💨😮‍💨

And that bit where he goes "My heart would only cry for you"? Why does it feel like he's hiding behind the sarcasm and really there isn't anyone he'd rather be stuck in an island with? 👀👀👀

Reader psst…c'mere real quick…methinks the god-whore has some feels

**NEW FIC PREVIEW**

When you're marooned on an island after the quinjet crashes over the Pacific, you and your bitter rival find yourself constantly at odds on how to survive, even has the heat of the island begins to have a more romantic effect on you and the notorious god-whore, Loki. Will the only sparks that fly be from a distress signal? Or will "Loki Atoll" slowly turn into the perfect paradise?

Please enjoy a sneak preview of my upcoming summer story, friends...

“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you!”

This only made Loki laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”

And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”

“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”

“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”

“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”

Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.

“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”

He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”

MASTERLIST to follow later this week. Please reblog/comment to be added to the taglist either here or on said masterlist.

A few mutuals who might be interested *no pressure* @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @maple-seed @anukulee @foxherder @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @mischief2sarawr @fandxmslxt69 @queen-paladin

#bestie boost #sas boost #everybody go check this out

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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B E S T I E NOW MY THOTS ARE A-THOTTING 🥵😮‍💨

Prof Hiddles pspspspspsps maybe u can come out to play again in the year of our lord 2024 👀🫡

imma just leave this riiiiiight here for u this fine Monday 😳🫠

Oh my, the thots are thotting and the whore-mines are raging for me with this look. Omg, the long curls? The suit? The slutty chest hair? 🥵no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Time for me to get more unhinged bc this has my thots going-

Since this is Prof! Hiddles I need him to tell me I did poorly on the essay so he pulls me on his lap and spanks me as he corrects me and then has me either propped on his desk and opens my legs or bends me over to earn his forgiveness as he calls me his whore and then his good girl and pulls my hair and then enters me and pounds me violently until I’m screaming for him as we cuuuuuuuu[gunshots]

I do have your prof! Hiddles request, bestie👀I think I can use this pic as inspiration😈😈😈

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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Bitter Reminiscence

The air in the office was thick as you exited the room. Every step you took to move away seemed to echo the weight of the unresolved conflict that lingered between you both.

As you sink into your chair, you still can't shake the feeling of resentment that gnaws at your insides. Despite your best efforts to remain professional, Tom's jabs and insults still managed to get the better of you. His words still stung like salt in an open wound.

With a frustrated sigh, you bury yourself in your work, hoping that the intriguing story of Moriarty: Dead or Alive would whisk your mind away. But trying as you might, you still can't seem to shake the feeling of unease that hangs over you like a dark cloud.

Hours somehow manage to pass by in a blur. Many emails and phone calls exchanged manage to distract your mind for a while. But despite your attempts to focus on the article in front of you, your mind always manages to drift back to the exchange in the meeting room.

A soft knock on the door pulls you away from your thoughts. You look up from your keyboard to see Audrey in the doorway, her expression sympathetic.

"Hey, Y/n," she says, her voice gentle. "I know things got a bit heated in the meeting and just wanted to check if you were okay."

You nod, forcing a smile despite the turmoil that churns inside you. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I guess."

Audrey frowns, clearly unconvinced by your facade. "Y/n, you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened between you and Tom, I'm here to help."

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. But as you look in her kind eyes, you realise that you can't keep your feelings bottled up any longer.

"It's just...seeing Tom again brought back a lot of painful memories," you admit, you voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I had moved on, but I guess some wounds take longer to heal than others."

Audrey reaches out and places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I understand. Old wounds are sometimes the hardest to heal. And I deeply apologise for not asking if you were okay to take this article. Had I known that you two had history I would've given it to someone else.

"But you cannot let your past with Tom, whatever it may be, to dictate your future. You're stronger than anyone else I've known. I know that you'll find a way to overcome this."

You offer her a grateful smile, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Audrey. I really appreciate your kind words."

With a reassuring squeeze of your should, Audrey turns to leave, leaving you along with your thoughts once more. As you reflect on her words, you realise that she's right. You can't let your resentment of Tom hold you back any longer.

You need to confront your past, no matter how ugly it may be, and move past it.

Muttering curses about Tom under your breath, you just need to figure out how to deal with it.

A/N I don't think this will be many chapters.

Maybe 15 at the most.

But it's something at least :)

🏷️ @km-ffluv @huntress-artemiss @goddessofchaoss @asgards-princess-of-mischief

please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :)

#on the tbr #everybody go read this

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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a startling realization pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader

There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.

But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.

The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.

And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.

But why?

"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.

"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.

If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.

"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"

As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.

That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.

"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."

"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."

All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.

This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.

"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."

"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.

But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.

Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.

You.

"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.

His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.

"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."

"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.

You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?

Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?

"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."

"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."

"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."

"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."

The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.

In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.

This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.

"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.

"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."

Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.

And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."

"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."

"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."

The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.

It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"

You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."

He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."

Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.

The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.

On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.

He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.

"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?

Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"

"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"

His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."

"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"

You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.

After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."

Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.

"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"

"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."

He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.

"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.

Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.

And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.

With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.

"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"

"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."

You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.

"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."

"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.

Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.

Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.

"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"

He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."

You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."

"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."

His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."

I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?

"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.

Your scent.

Home

A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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Protective & Intimidating Loki got us acting up I swear-- 🫠😮‍💨

They're both just mentally going "We must stay focused we must--👀🫠" around each other 🥹

So glad you enjoyed this one, bestie! Thank you so so much for reading 💖💛

ill-intentioned "compliments"

Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)

Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)

Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining

"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.

"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."

He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."

"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."

"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."

Your words took him aback. "Truly?"

"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."

You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"

"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.

Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.

"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.

"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"

"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"

"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.

"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"

"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"

Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."

"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.

"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."

"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Or kiss you.

"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."

For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."

A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤

#lovely mutuals #muddyorbsblr replies

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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Loki really cursed them with the ultimate form of "Why you hitting yourself?" And we love him for it 😂💖

So glad you enjoyed this one, bestie! Thank you so so much for reading 💖💛

ill-intentioned "compliments"

Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)

Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)

Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining

"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."

Your words took him aback. "Truly?"

Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.

"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"

"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"

"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"

Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."

"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."

Or kiss you.

For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."

#lovely mutuals #muddyorbsblr replies

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

Text

Reader was watching that go down and thinking "This better not awaken anything in me" 🫠🫠🫠

ill-intentioned "compliments"

Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)

Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)

Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining

"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."

Your words took him aback. "Truly?"

Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.

"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"

"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"

"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"

Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."

"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."

Or kiss you.

For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."

#lovely mutuals #muddyorbsblr replies

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muddyorbsblr · 4 days

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Sending so many hugs because it's just not fair that we've had to deal with creepers and they don't get dinged for it until something's already happened to us 😣🫂

One day they'll all get what's coming to them, I gotta hold on to that belief if I wanna keep sane 🙃

Thank you so so much for reading this one! 💖💛