#marvels beast x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

floppy-fries-bbg · 9 months

Text

Pre serum Steve Rogers x Tall!Reader

“Come on! He’s cute!” Your best friend Dot try’s to convince you for the third time that evening to go on a blind date with a guy she knew. “I already told you Dot! I’m not going on a date with a stranger!” You explain for the third time as you go through Dots clothes trying to find any that you could wear.

You had always been unusually tall and built for some reason. At first you hated it, you hated how people would point and laugh, how that would call you names, how you could never find romance, but eventually you accepted it. It wasn’t your bodies fault you were this way and so what if you didn’t have a boyfriend, you didn’t need one anyways.

“Besides, we both know that as soon as he sees me he will freak and call me some name” you explain as you finally find a button up shirt that will fit you. “He’s different I swear!” Dot continues to beg as you start to change shirts. “I’ll go, but only if you offer me something” you explain making quicky work of buttoning up the crisp white shirt.

“alright, how about I get you a Duke Ellington record?” She offers with a small smile to which you smirk. “Make it two plus Billie Holiday” she sighs but agrees much to your excitement. “But first we have to get you some new clothes” she eyes your suspended pants and button up shirt. It wasn’t you clothes if you were being honest, the shot was dots which was to tight and the pants were her older brothers which were far to big.

*♡∞:｡.｡*♡∞:｡.｡

As you and Dot enter the diner her eyes scan over the crowds of couples as you adjust your skirt. Dot had given you a brown waist whirl away skirt, a white yolk blouse, and an Americana jacket . She even made you wear her heels. ‘Why did I agree to this’ you think as Dot drags you over to a booth. you only see one face and start to wonder your date is a no show. Actually no you were hoping he was a no show, it’d be much easier to leave that way. Unluckily for you he did show up.

As you get closer to the booth you realize there’s a man there but he’s tiny. To be fair everyone looked small to you but most men weren’t this short. “Hi, I’m Y/n, you’re Steve right?” You hold out your hand to shake as you take in his look.

He has dirty blonde hair, a sharp jaw line, icy blue eyes, and a pair of the softest looking lips. “Hi, that’s yeah, that’s me” a light blush dusts over his cheeks and giggle. It was cute how flustered he got.

Steve was awkward about it the whole date but in an endearing way. “Did you know pandas only mate once a year?” He blurted out once causing you to choke on your water. “I’m sorry what?” You giggle and he looks down at his burger. “Sorry” he whispers a little bit but you quickly make him shut up. “No, I just meant it was random, a good random thought.” You smile and he looks up at you smiling back.

Bucky and Dot almost immediately left you guys after they finished eating. “I don’t understand how Dot can dance all the time” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and turn to Steve who was staring but looks away as he notices your glance.

“Bucky too, he goes dancing every other night I seriously don’t understand how he could do that.” Steve laughs, it’s a warm laugh that makes your stomach do summersaults. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask and he looks up at you nodding softly.

You take his hand and lead him out of the diner. “I’ll walk you home alright?” You offer still holding his hand as the two of you walk down the street, the cold air hits you but you were used to it as you didn’t get cold that easily, Steve on the other hand did.

You could feel him shivering and hear his teeth chattering. “Are you alright Steve?” You ask concerned while rubbing his hand. “Ye-yeah I’m alr-alright,” he says not very convincing. Letting go of his hand you slip off your jacket and wrap it around him. “Don’t lie, I can hear your teeth chattering.” “Sorry” he mumbles looking down but you ruffle his hair with a chuckle. “You’re fine, just take care of yourself more yeah?” You check on him and he agrees. “Okay…thank you.”

The two of you continue to talk the whole way to his house. “I couldn’t even come home because Bucky and Dot were going at it like bunny’s for hours I had to sleep at a motel that night.” Steve chuckles as you approach his house. “Well this is my stop,” he says not wanting the night to end. You walk him to the door and turns towards you.

“I hope I can see you again” Steve smiles hopeful “me too, I can’t wait.” You smile and walk away to head home. You turn on your heel and run back “Steve wait!” You yell out running to him. “Wha-” he gets cut out by you kissing him. His lips are soft and warm like him. pulling away you chuckle “I will see you soon.” You giggle while Steve’s face turns red as a tomato and he nods.

As soon as Steve shuts the door you register what you did. You immediately rush home your face redder that a tomato. ‘What the hell is wrong with me?!’ You question yourself as you walk into yours and Dots shared apartment. “Hey Y/n how was- ooo~” Dot smiles at you and you wave her off. “Shut up! I’m going to bed” you rush to your bed but end up staying up thinking about Steve all night

Bonus:

As Bucky gets home he snickers seeing Steve’s face. “Looks like you had a good time” he refers to his lips with smudged red lipstick. “Shut up!” He says covering his lips while Bucky laughs at him. “Well, at least you had a good date” he smiles thinking about the kiss.

23 notes · View notes

madlittlecriminal · 10 months

Text

Hank McCoy Masterlist

(*) ➞contains sexual innuendos/light smut

(**) ➞contains smut

(▾) ➞contains angst/trigger warning(s)

(°) ➞authors personal favorites

(…) ➞request

(•) ➞holiday themed

(§) ➞alternate universe (AU)

(≈) ➞headcanons (HC)

(۵) ➞prompts

(❅) ➞blurbs

*DISCONTINUED*

-Distraction (*)

-Got You (…)(▾)[Kelsey Grammer]

-Partner (°)

-Shifting Beauty (▾)

-Stronger (*)

-Unique (…)(§)

#hank mccoy #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy x you #hank mccoy x y/n #beast #beast x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel universe #beast x you #beast x y/n #xmen #xmen beast

47 notes · View notes

shion-ah · 3 months

Text

Looking for a third person POV, experienced roleplay partner. 18+ and plot/storyline heavy. If any of these can't your interesting like and send a me a message! Listed below are the genres or fandoms. I'll do OCxCanon characters make and female as well

Bridgerton

Vampire knight

Succession

Walking dead

The Boys

Black Butler

The Bear

Fantastic Beasts

Harry Potter

Supernatural

Marvel

Call of Dury Modern Warfare

Just to name a few. Let me know and let's be friends!

10 notes · View notes

malexmalesstuff · 1 year

Note

Are you still accepting request? And are there any specific characters?

Yes i am, I’m currently focusing on Robert Pattinson and his roles, Angus Cloud and his roles, Robert downey jr and his roles. I have a thing for age gaps

31 notes · View notes

honey-minded-hivemind · 2 months

Note

Saber Anon. Kit reader likes to snuggle especially in their sleep

Oh h*ck yeah they do! They're a cuddle buddy. (Not to mention they make little baby animal noises in their sleep). Be they a baby, a toddler, a preteen, a teenager, or even a young adult, you can bet that the platonic yandere feral/s are keeping them around during nap time. How could they peacefully nap without their favorite kit? Especially since they don't try to run or bite them while passed out in the blankets like a tired kitten.

22 notes · View notes

ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 2 years

Text

“Shine”- a Loki/Reader one-shot

You finally get a break from being a personal assistant at the Avengers Compound when you get cast in a leading role in the local community theater’s production of Beauty and the Beast. Loki, as familiar with the theater as he is, can’t help but get worried and jealous of your leading man, and he has an idea on how to keep an eye on you…

Pairing: Loki x Plus Size!Reader CW: Dumb, contrived fluff, Jealous!Loki, stage fright, body insecurity Word Count: 2.8k

“I can’t believe I got Belle!” you said excitedly, sitting around the conference table with Clint, Bruce, and Steve. “I didn’t think I did well at the callback.”

Not to mention, a woman my size isn’t usually considered princess material, you thought, not wanting to say as much out loud in front of three attractive men. The last time you were under a size-10 was in middle school, and these days you hovered between an 18 and a 20. You were usually cast as the villain or the comedic relief on stage because of it, but this director had apparently loved your voice enough that your dress size didn’t matter to her. Finally, your chance at a lead had come.

“I can’t believe you’re willing to drive forty-five minutes each way to sing and act in front of strangers,” Bruce said, half-jokingly. “But I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“Y’know, I played Belle once,” Clint quipped. “But then Lila told me she was tired and wanted to switch the DVD to something else.”

“I have to admit, these Disney cartoon films weren’t the first things I took in after being awoken,” Steve added, “But congratulations. I’ll be sure to buy tickets.”

You beamed. “I hope you all come! In fact, I bet I can convince the box office to comp you all. The Avengers endorsing a small-town theater would be a boon for them.”

“The only problem is, we still need a Gaston,” you added. “We need to find someone fast, but it IS a small town, and no one has the vocal range, or the cockiness in his personality, needed for the part. We may not have a show without a Gaston.”

You heard heavy bootsteps come up behind you, and you didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“A children’s show?” Loki scoffed. “Why would you want to see something as inane as a musical derived from a cartoon?”

Ever since you were hired, you’d had it pretty bad for Loki. He was smart, funny, and his long, bouncy black hair made you swoon. However, you’d stayed away under the assumption that Loki could have any beautiful woman he wanted, and someone like you would never live up to the lovers of his past. Loki must’ve taken offense to this, for when he grew wise to your reasons for keeping your distance, he immediately closed the gap and began flirting with you in the hallways. You thought he was mocking you, and so, in spite of your crush on him, you always brushed by him, never acknowledging him as anything more than an Avenger.

You groaned. “Piss off, even you can’t rain on my parade today!”

Loki pulled out the chair next to you and took a seat. “And does this mean you’ll be quitting?”

You shook your head. “I know that’s what you’re hoping for, but no, it’s just in the evenings four times a week until tech.”

“And how much are you being paid?” he added. “As a leading character, hopefully plenty?”

You rolled your eyes. “I thank you not to judge my hobby. And no, it’s not a paid engagement.”

“I don’t judge your choice of pastime,” Loki countered. “In fact, I patronized the performing arts on Asgard frequently. My qualm is that you are willing to drive a long way from here, four days a week, to work amongst strangers for no money whatsoever, only to expose yourself before a live audience, who could either love you or laugh you out of the house.”

You could feel his icy words begin to affect you.

“Hey, come off it, Laufeyson,” Steve snapped. “Why can’t you be happy for her?”

“It’s my dream role,” you added.

“I imagine, as a leading woman, you will be kissing a leading man as well? Kissing a stranger in public!” Loki sighed. “Theater people will do anything for a bit! It just doesn’t seem very becoming of a single woman.”

You grunted and shot out of your seat. “Becoming?! The only thing I’m BECOMING is agitated, Loki! Jesus Christ, do you always have to cast a cloud of negativity over every little good thing that happens to one of us?”

“No,” he said as if it were simple fact. “Only when it happens to you.”

You bit your lip. “If this is your idea of flirting, Loki, you need to take a lesson or two.”

You went to leave, deciding to take the rest of your lunch break in the lab. Before you left the conference room, you turned back to Loki. “And yes, I’m kissing someone. He’s rather handsome, too, and his voice could remove my panties faster than your magic ever could.”

“Ouch!” Steve laughed.

“Nice one,” Bruce added.

Clint leaned back and folded his arms, amused. “There isn’t enough aloe in the country to soothe that burn.”

Loki looked down at his lap, smarting at your insult as you skipped away in triumph. Even so, he was already concocting a plan. He just needed to rent a certain film to do some research first…

“—ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered…”

Three days later, you were dressed ready for a one-on-one dance workshop with the choreographer when you first entered the space that, two months from now, would be shining spotlights on you as you belted out the final notes to “Home.”

The house was already populated with other actors and tech crew working. The Narrator’s deep bass was chilling.

“Y/N!” chimed out Bri, the choreographer waiting for you. You smiled as she came up to you. “Glad you’re on time! Thanks for bringing character shoes.”

You shrugged. “About time I took them out for a spin again! Hey, any updates on the Gaston situation?”

Bri nodded excitedly. “Actually, the director’s meeting with a candidate right now. He sure looks the part, at least I think so! He’s just got to audition—”

As if on cue, a rich, handsome baritone started singing some tune that was unfamiliar to you. It was upbeat and robust, but it was also a sweet melody.

Oh no, I might end up falling for the bad guy in the end if this man gets the role, you thought, shuffling towards the left wing, where a piano was being kept, and where an accompanist was plunking out the song the mysterious singer was gifting your ears with.

You brushed aside one of the curtains, only to stop in your tracks as you processed that it was Loki himself, singing that incredible song. The director was standing behind the accompanist, looking very pleased with him. Your jaw hit the floor.

After the final bar, the entirety of the cast had gathered around the left wing, and they all erupted in applause and cheers.

Marie, the director, quickly scooted around the piano to shake Loki’s hand. “Welcome to the cast, Gaston! Everyone, we have a full cast!”

Fuck. A. Duck.

Everyone clapped again as Marie gently turned Loki around to face you. “And I believe you already know our Belle! You two probably know how to work together already! So, Mr. Loki, go see Adele for costuming before the end of tonight if you would? And Y/N,” she turned to you. “I changed my mind, I want you and Garrett doing Intimacy Coaching with Marty in the green room, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, trying to hide your burning desire to kick Loki in his sack. As soon as Marie left you to your own devices, Loki smirked and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Intimacy Coaching?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

“Don’t get your hopes up, perv,” you groaned. “It’s just boundaries and limit-testing. We kiss twice at the end of the show and it’s to make sure we’re cool with each other, that’s all.”

“I’m sure your partner wouldn’t agree,” Loki murmured.

“Okay, first of all, Garrett is gay. Gayer than Christmas. So that’s already one problem solved,” you told him. “Second, just…why? Why, Loki? Was tormenting me at work not enough to get you off anymore?”

“I thought someone needed to keep an eye on you,” Loki growled. “And it’s been nearly a millennium since I’ve graced a stage with my presence, so I—”

“—you are ridiculous, you know that? You SHOULD be playing LeFou!” you barked, spinning on your heels and walking away before you lost your cool entirely.

Loki followed you with his eyes, his shoulder dropping as you left the house. Damn, he thought. I’m losing my touch. Sighing, he went to go retrieve a script from the stage manager as Garrett, the actor playing Beast, was practicing the final notes of his big ballad, which seemed to perfectly reflect the feelings in Loki’s own heart in that moment:

“Hope I could have loved her and that she'd set me free But it's not to be If I can't love her…”

Tech Week arrived faster than you thought; you were having such a blast rehearsing for the role of a lifetime. What’s more, when word got out that an Avenger was in the leading cast, ticket sales boomed so much that the company had to rent out another week from the building for a second weekend of the run, which of course meant even more people would be seeing you.

You didn’t say anything more to Loki than was absolutely mandated by your respective parts in the show. Even at music rehearsal, you sang away from him. If you’d just turned your head a few times during a solo, you would have seen that Loki was genuinely impressed by your vocals, and couldn’t hide the admiring look on his face.

Admittedly, the stage fright was beginning to crawl up your back, especially now as you were in the green room with the costumer, getting the final touches finished on your ball gown. Sadly, no version of the iconic yellow gown fit your full body, so a replica in the same size and shape, but in a crystal blue color more akin to Cinderella, was made. You still looked incredible, at least according to the seamstress, but the fact that there was no costume in the yellow you’d dreamed of wearing as a girl made your insecurity only grow. Now showtime was beginning to feel less like a looming adventure and more like a ticking clock. Would the audience receive you for who you were as a singer-slash-actor? Or would no one be able to get past your looks. After all, it was right there in the song lyrics: “it’s no wonder her name means ‘beauty.’”

“Would you like to go out and show everyone?” asked the costumer. You looked at yourself one more time in the mirror, sighing and admitting to yourself that you really looked all right.

Picking up the hem of your billowing skirt, you went upstairs and onto the stage, where two stagehands were standing under spotlights, so that the tech director could focus them.

“Oh, never mind, let her stand under the light,” the tech master yelled from the booth above the back of the house as you stepped onto the stage. The stagehands moved aside for you, and you could hear several people gasping from the house.

“Y/N!” cried out Marie. “You’re stunning! Can you move well enough to dance?”

“Yes,” you said meekly, stepping into the light, feeling vulnerable.

“Geddit, Bella!” you could hear Garrett calling from the wings, and you looked over at him, dressed in his own royal-blue best.

“Do a slow turn,” the tech master asked. You obeyed. “The light reflects this color differently than I thought…”

After a few minutes of standing in the light, hearing the encouragement from your cast and crewmates, you were given permission to step aside and to get out of your dress and into dance gear for the top of the show, but as you swiftly walked back into the wings, you heard Loki call out from near the curtain.

“Beautiful,” he mused, admiring you. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him oddly.

You couldn’t help but fail to stifle a laugh at Loki’s appearance in his own costume: the standard candy-apple red jacket and black ponytail. He looked the part for certain, but seeing him in such a recognizable suit was strange, to say the least.

Loki smiled and looked down at himself. “I know. I should have asked to play the clock.”

You smiled. “You look like Gaston,” you said.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Should I consider that an insult?”

“Um….no,” you answered. “He’s supposed to be the physical ideal. Herculean, y’know?”

Loki took this as a signal to slowly close the gap between you, looking you in the eye. “I knew Heracles,” he said quietly. “He’s not exactly someone I’d invite to supper.”

“Look, Loki,” you began, “About what’s been going on between us, I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe it’s worth it to talk things through? After all—”

“—Y/N, I didn’t make my intentions fully clear before,” he said. “I did not take this part because I was worried that you’d be swept off your feet by another. Well, perhaps not entirely.”

“You didn’t? Could have fooled me,” you quipped.

“Ever since Stark hired you,” he continued, “I’ve held a bit of a torch for you. That said, my knowledge of Midgardian flirting rituals are limited. Once I thought my attempts to get your attention were yielding the opposite result to what I was hoping for, maybe I became a bit spiteful.”

“So you DID ask for the part to torture me?”

He quickly shook his head. “I wanted to protect you.”

“From whom?” you asked.

Loki sighed. “One thing about Midgard I DO know about is the shallowness of the people here. I know you are a lady of beauty, but the humans out there can’t seem to appreciate anything that falls outside their norm. I was afraid they would come after you.”

You looked away from Loki, blushing and hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I guess I appreciate the gesture, cavalier and outdated as it is.”

“But,” Loki continued, putting up a hand. “After hearing your dulcet tones sweetening the air in the room, and seeing you grace the stage with your body in that immense dress, I don’t see a need to protect you any more.”

You cocked your head. “No?”

Loki smiled and took your hand, gently starting to remove the opera glove on your arm. “You are talented and graceful. Any audience that would judge you for a large frame and not your skills are mad and not worthy to attend the performance. But, with what you’ve been bringing, I think worrying is no longer required.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“And,” Loki continued, removing the glove and bringing your bare hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “If you would forgive me for my previous misguided transgressions, I would be honored if you’d let me escort you to the after party on our final evening.”

The light kiss on your hand sent electricity up your arm and down your spine.

“You’d willingly be seen with me?” you asked. “And you’d be proud of me?”

Loki took your arm and pulled you in even closer, taking his hand and running it gently along your cheek. “My dear, I’d be a beast not to be.”

Opening night, you felt the icy chill of stage fright cement you off in the right wing as the recorded narration and the opening scene played out for the audience.

Loki was right behind you, confident in his stride as always.

“How do you feel, Belle?” he asked gently, leaning by your ear from behind you as you stood watching for your cue. You shook your head, your skin shaking with fear. “Darling, your skin is trembling.”

He caressed your neck with a hand, and somehow, it did the trick, stopping the shakes underneath your skin and warming you.

“You really think they’re going to like me?” you asked. “What of--?”

“—no what ifs, Y/N,” Loki demanded. “This is your finest hour,” Loki said, encouraging you with a firm-but-kind hand on the small of your back. “Act like it.”

Giving you one last kiss for luck on your cheek, he gestured to the stage, where the scene was going black and the narration dying. “I do believe that is your cue. Go. Shine.”

You felt a tingle of courage (and pleasure) milk the adrenaline from your brain, giving you the fuel that you needed to take your place for your grand entrance. Once you did, and once the first spotlight and twinklings of “Belle” emitted from the orchestra pit, the audience clapped for you.

You immediately blew them away with your opening notes, Loki’s own heart began to tremble with admiration (and affection) as he watched you.

“Little town…such a quiet village…”

@el-zef @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @michelleleewise @mochie85 @toozmanykids @xorpsbane @huntress-artemis @itsybitchylittlewitchy @the-fantasy-loving-angel @moonlightreader649 @littlemarvelmenfan @ficitve-sl0th

#MCU #MCU Loki #MCU fanfiction #Loki fanfiction #Loki fluff #Beauty and the Beast #MCU Avengers #fluff fic #fanfiction #theater #marvel #loki x reader #plus-size reader #loki/reader #loki x reader fluff #enemies to lovers

129 notes · View notes

lunarbuck · 1 year

Text

Dance With The Devil (2)

Pairing: mafia!Loki x f!reader (any race)

WC: 5k

Summary: You see a dark side to the men holding you captive, but you won't let them break you.

Warnings: death, violence, injury, angst

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!! I've loved writing it :) beta'd by the lovely @purpleshallot

series masterlist | main masterlist | script | fic playlist

Chapter 1 / Chapter 3

When you wake in the morning, you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus. Your body aches and your head spins. It takes you a moment to remember where you are, what happened last night, and as it all comes back to you, all you feel is anger.

It consumes you; it lights a fire in your heart.

You stare at yourself in the vanity mirror and try to ignore how puffy your eyes are from crying last night. Right then and there, you decide that you won’t be the weak little prisoner he expects you to be. You tell yourself that you won’t roll over and take it when he wants you to.

You’ll fight him. You’ll fight him every step of the way.

It only takes you a few minutes to clean yourself up, splashing water on your face to reduce the redness of your eyes. You dress in a pair of plain brown pants from the dresser and a shirt you find, noting that they fit pretty well. You’re not sure how the raven-haired man knew what sizes to get or if he always keeps spare clothes in this room.

Either way, you don’t want to know, and you tell yourself that you don’t care.

You place your hand on the doorknob and take a deep breath. As you turn it, the metal is cool beneath your fingertips, a loud click echoing through your brain.

When you emerge from the room, you run straight into someone’s back, though they don’t fall over. Instead, the person turns around and catches you easily, steadying you. It only takes a moment to recognize them as the man you’d seen last night in the hallway, who directed you to your father.

“Good morning,” he says, removing his hands from where they’d been on your shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

Now that you’re closer to him, you let your eyes roam over his face and figure. He’s handsome, brown hair perfectly coiffed atop his head. His green eyes are bright despite the low light in the hallway, and he wears a perfectly pressed black button-up tucked into black dress pants.

“Hungry,” you end up saying quietly, letting your eyes connect with his. He gives you a gentle and knowing smile.

“Of course, come with me.” He extends his arm, offering it to you, and you surprise yourself by slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow.

The new man walks you through the halls, explaining the home’s architecture and art history. You find yourself hanging on to every word, soaking up all the information you can.

A few moments later, you arrive in a large dining room, a huge wooden table in the center with chairs lining the perimeter. The man pulls out the chair at the head of the table, and you warily sit down.

“What’s your name?” you ask as he helps you push in the chair. The man sticks his head into the kitchen, calling to someone before returning to your side.

“I’m Levi, and this is Cade,” he replies, gesturing to the man coming in from the kitchen. Cade seems to have a permanent scowl etched into his features, which doesn’t shift as he gives you a once-over.

“She’s not supposed to be here,” Cade says to Levi, not seeming to find it necessary to introduce himself to you.

Levi sighs exasperatedly, leaning against the back of your chair. “I don’t really give a shit. She’s hungry, and I’m not gonna let her starve.” Your heart warms at the sentiment; at least someone in this house cares about your well-being, even if the raven-haired man doesn’t.

“We have orders–” Cade cuts himself off, staring down at you as if he’d just noticed you listening. He returns his gaze back to Levi before lowering his voice. “If he finds out that she’s here, that we brought her here… I’m not saving your ass this time.” You mull over his words. Why does the raven-haired man care where you go? Clearly, he doesn’t want to see you since he hasn’t come to check on you yet.

“I won’t say anything,” you interject. Both men drop their gazes to you, Levi’s kind and caring, Cade’s frustrated and broody.

Levi reaches around the chair and squeezes your shoulder. “Perfect.” Two men venture back into the kitchen. They bicker the entire time, and you sit back in the chair, taking in the room around you.

It’s incredibly intricate, with so many details for your eyes to roam over that you don’t know where to start. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice another person entering the room. One look at the woman, and you know she’s probably the kindest person out there. Her hair is streaked with gray, eyes crinkled in the corners from years of smiling.

“Hello, my dear,” she says, placing a steaming mug in front of you. As the steam rises, you smell that it’s herbal tea. You wrap your hands around the ceramic, warming your skin. “It’s lovely to meet you. My name is Mrs. Peters, and if you ever need anything, no matter how small or insignificant you may feel it is, you just tell me.” Mrs. Peters sits next to you and watches you sip at the tea. Instantly, the liquid warms your whole body, ridding it of the chill from last night’s events.

“Thank you, Mrs. Peters,” you reply quietly, taking in her comforting demeanor. She gives you a bright smile, and a moment later, Levi carries out a spread of breakfast options for you. Mrs. Peters rises from her seat to help him lay out the food in front of you.

Cade leans against the wall a few feet away, clearly upset by the sight in front of him.

“Stop sulking,” Mrs. Peters chides, clicking her tongue at the man. “I don’t care what he has to say about it. I’m not going to let the poor child go hungry.” Cade rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything.

Mrs. Peters and Levi sit with you at the table while you eat, encouraging you to try different dishes they like. Cade stands to the side, watching with a disgusted look plastered on his face. It bothers you; why does he care so much? He had mentioned getting in trouble, but there’s no way that letting you eat could have that severe of consequences.

“Why were you not supposed to let me eat?” you ask, turning to Levi. He shifts a little in his seat but keeps his easy grin.

“You’re not supposed to leave your room without the permission of the big guy,” he explains. “Somethin’ about him not trusting you yet.”

“You know it’s more than that, Levi,” Cade grunts. “And they’re not orders. If you go against orders, it’s not that bad. This was a threat. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.” Mrs. Peters stands abruptly and strides over to Cade in just a few steps.

“Cade, I am shocked at you. She’s not our prisoner; she’s our guest. We must make her feel welcome here.” You shake your head at her words; you’re not a guest in this house. You’re the raven-haired man’s prisoner.

“I’m a prisoner,” you admit quietly, pushing away the plate in front of you. “I traded my life to save my father. I did it to myself.” The room goes silent, and you push away from the table and head to the hall. “Thank you for breakfast.”

The walk back to your room is quick, and when you shut the door, you chide yourself for not looking for a way out or more information on who the raven-haired man is.

Sitting at the vanity, you wonder what you’d do if you found a way out. Would you run? What would happen to you? The raven-haired man knows who you and your father are. He knows where you live; would he just come and take you back?

The thought of him knocking down the door to your home and dragging you back here sends shivers down your spine.

Now isn’t the time to think about hypotheticals. You must keep your head straight and figure out a way out of this mess.

The rest of the week, you don’t leave your room. Food gets delivered to your room, but you never see who brings it. More clothes had also appeared outside your door a few days ago. Everything is your size, somehow also your style.

You spend your day re-reading the one book you had brought with you. The prince saves the princess from the grips of the evil man every time. As much as you wish you had a knight in shining armor coming to save you, you know you don’t.

At first, you’d thought Griffin would come looking for you, but if the raven-haired man really is part of the mafia or mob or whatever, you imagine he won’t be able to do much on his own. You haven’t been able to find your phone, so it’s not like you can even call or text Griffin to tell him what happened.

A knock on your door spooks you, but you relax when Levi calls you from the other side. You pad over to the door and open it to reveal his thousand-watt smile.

“Hello, Levi,” you say, leaning against the door frame.

“Hello, ma chéri, how are you today?” You shrug, you could certainly be better, but you suppose things could also be much worse.

“I’m okay,” you end up saying. Levi nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you.

“Well, I wanted to apologize for not seeing you much this week. I couldn’t risk pissing off Cade more than I already had.” You nod your understanding, gesturing for Levi to come into your room. The two of you sit on your floor, facing each other.

“I understand,” you reply, digging your fingers into the plush carpet beneath you. Everything in this house screams luxury, old money. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Levi rolls his eyes but doesn’t fight you on what you’ve said,

“Cade just has a fuckin’ stick up his ass. I know who I work for; I know what I signed up for. Loki can take it up with me if he has a problem with me feeding you. I’m not going to let you sit here and wither away.”

Loki.

That’s the first time you’ve heard his name spoken out loud.

Loki.

“And what is it that you signed up for?” you ask, curious about what Levi’s job truly is.

“I am the right-hand man to the head of the Laufeyson Family Mafia.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. As if he’d just told you he’s a cashier for the local grocery store.

“Excuse me?” You stare at the man dumbfounded. How could Levi, the seemingly sweet and kind man in front of you, be part of such a vicious profession? And to be the right hand of the leader…

“Loki and I grew up together, he was always going to be in this life, but I chose to be in it. I do all the shit he doesn’t want to do, but honestly, he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. Most of the time, we do it all together.” He’s being too vague; it puts you on edge. You know he’s doing it on purpose, whether it’s to protect you or himself, you’re not sure.

“But why?” How could anyone willingly choose a life like this?

“I’m not a good man, ma chérie,” he says, cocking his head. “I like being in the thick of it; it’s what I’m good at. I tried to live in the ‘real world,’ and it sucks. It’s not for me. But this, it all makes sense to me.” You shake your head; this doesn’t make any sense. The image of Levi ending someone’s life and cleaning up the mess afterward doesn’t work. It doesn’t align with what you know of him.

But what do you really know?

Nothing.

You only know what he’s shown you, and you haven’t had the opportunity to see him in action.

“And what kind of man is Loki?” His name tastes like poison on your tongue. Levi lets your words sink in, mulling them over.

“You can’t be a good man in our world.”

Silence settles between you, and you don’t press him for more. “I didn’t come here to scare you, ma chérie. I was wondering if you’d like a tour of the rest of the house; I know you haven’t seen the rest of it yet.”

Your eyes light up at his proposition. You’ve been itching to explore. “Yes, I’d love that!” you tell him excitedly.

“Wonderful.” Levi stands, taking your hands in his to help you up. “I have to go on a job for a little while, but when I get back, I can take you. The house looks so much better in the evening anyways.” You deflate slightly when he tells you that he won’t be taking you right now, but you try not to show your disappointment.

“I look forward to it,” you say as Levi steps out of your room.

“See you then, ma chérie.”

The sun sinks below the horizon. It’s been hours, and Levi has yet to come back. You can’t help but think you won’t be getting your tour tonight.

But who says you need Levi to explore? You’ve never been too reliant on others; why start now?

You walk through the halls, expecting to get stopped, but no one is out right now, to your surprise. You make your way through the familiar areas of the house, but when you pass the large wooden doors to the west wing, you can’t help but reach out and brush your fingers along the ornate carvings.

You know the west wing is forbidden, but what’s in there? What could be so bad? Before you can convince yourself not to, you’re pushing the doors open.

Another hallway comes into view, though this one isn’t carpeted like the rest of the house, instead having dark wood floors. You take a tentative step across the threshold. When you don’t instantly burst into flames or whatever you thought would happen, you continue down the hall.

Paintings line the walls, but most are covered with dust cloths. When you reach the end of the hall, you find a portrait ripped to shreds. You reach out, pushing the pieces back together, and find it’s a family portrait.

The family is all dressed in black, sitting in a traditional pose. The raven-haired man, Loki, sits between who you assume are his mother and father. They don’t look happy, but they also don’t look angry. They look pleasant as if they’d all been thinking of a kind memory.

Loki’s eyes pierce into you, captivating you.

A loud shout steals your attention, and you notice a door you hadn’t seen a moment ago. A sliver of light peeks through the crack in the door, and you glance through it, unable to contain your curiosity.

Inside the room, Loki, Levi, and Cade all stand around a man tied to a chair. They take turns striking him with their fists, beating him without mercy.

Between each punch, Loki asks him the same question.

“Where is the shipment?”

The man never has an answer.

After another rotation of beatings, the man slumps over as much as he can in his bindings. Cade and Levi look at Loki for direction, and your stomach turns as you watch Loki pull a knife out of his pocket, flicking it open gracefully.

Loki grips the man’s hair, yanking his head upward. Blood oozes from his broken nose. It drips down his face, in his mouth, off his chin. Loki’s eyes are dark, but a smirk graces his lips. He’s enjoying this.

You hold your breath as Loki drags the tip of his blade down the bound man’s cheek, cutting it shallowly.

The bound man stirs, eyes flashing open at the pain of being cut.

“Please, please just stop,” he begs, trying to crane his face away from Loki’s knife.

“Just tell me what I want to know then,” Loki spits bitterly. He moves the knife down the man’s neck, not hitting anything vital but scraping the skin.

“I swear I don’t know anything. I wasn’t there when the shipment got dropped off. I was s’posed to, but I fucked up and was late. By the time I got there, it was gone. That’s all I know.”

Loki’s eyes connect with Levi’s, and they both shake their heads knowingly.

It only takes a second for Loki to drive the knife into the bound man’s chest, ending his life instantly.

A loud ringing fills your ears, and bile rises in your throat.

You turn away from the door, stumbling down the corridor in the dark. You trip over your feet, landing against the wall.

A hand grips your arm, shoving your back to the wall. Loki stands in front of you, fuming.

“Why did you come here?” His hold on your arm is bruising, cutting off circulation to your hand.

“I– I’m sorry,” you stammer, still hearing the ringing in your ears. You feel like you’re about to faint.

“I warned you never to come here,” he shouts, eyes like fire.

“I didn’t– I don’t–” you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. All you want is for him to let you go. You somewhat get your wish as his hands move from your arms to grip your face. His fingers reach back around your head, tangling in your hair while cupping your cheeks.

“Do you realize what you could have done?” He angles your head so you have no choice but to stare into his eyes. He looks hungry, like a man starved.

You feel like the bound man.

“Please stop,” you whisper, tears springing in your eyes. You will them not to fall; you just want him to let go.

A cold look washes over his face, his entire demeanor shifts, and he shoves himself away from you. Loki’s hands fall to his sides, fists clenched.

“Get out,” he growls, seething. You don’t think as you run out of the dark hallway and out into the central area of the house. Your feet carry you through the halls, down the stairs, and out the front door.

No one stops you. No one chases you.

You don’t stop even as you run down the hill, out the iron-wrought gate, and through the neighborhood that had looked so far away from the house.

Your lungs scream at you, your legs ache, but you want to be as far away from that house as possible. As far away from Loki and his dark eyes, full of blood and lust.

You reach the downtown area of the neighborhood and collapse onto a bench, sucking in heaving breaths. Your thoughts spin through your mind, replaying what you’d seen Loki and his men do in that room.

The fall air is crisp and cool, quickly drying the sweat on your skin. You feel feverish, welcoming the breeze that blows through the trees. You bring your knees up into your chest and will your heartbeat to slow down.

Even though it’s dark out, the moon glows brightly in the cloudless sky. A street lamp illuminates the stretch of pavement around you. You scold yourself for not grabbing anything before running away; you didn’t even bother looking for your phone.

Now, as you sit on the bench, you wish you had a way of contacting someone, anyone. Maybe Griffin, he’d come get you. But you don’t have his number memorized; you’d just have to call the police.

As you think over your options, your eyes flick to a man walking down the street toward you. He scrolls through his phone as he walks, laughing at something on the screen. He walks past you on the bench but stops a few feet away before turning around and approaching you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tucking his phone into his pocket. His eyebrows are scrunched together, and he looks genuinely concerned. You wonder if you should tell him the truth, if you should ask him to call the police for you.

“Um, yeah,” you say, squeezing your knees tighter. You don’t want to seem too vulnerable to this stranger.

“Do you need help?” he asks, crouching down so he can make eye contact with you. His brown eyes connect with yours, and the look he gives you truly conveys kindness. “You could call someone on my phone if you need to, here.” He places his phone on the bench beside you.

You pick it up with shaking fingers and stare at the keypad, unsure who to call. You should call your dad, but for some reason, you don’t want to. Maybe you don’t want to scare him; maybe you don’t want to put him in danger.

In the end, you decide the police are your best option. You look up the number for the police station Griffin works at, and as you dial it, you notice another man walking down the street. He’s not alone but instead flanked by three more figures.

They approach and stand behind the man who’d let you borrow his phone.

The phone rings and rings and rings.

“This one?” one of the new men asks aloud. Your heart sinks.

The line goes dead.

“Yeah,” the brown-eyed man says, grinning. “She’s the one.”

You’re surrounded, unarmed, and suddenly paralyzed with fear. “Who are you?” you ask, pushing yourself back into the bench as if that will save you from whatever they have planned.

“My name is Jack Rollins,” the brown-eyed man tells you. His hand reaches out, grabs his phone from your fingers, and puts it in his coat pocket. “You’re coming with us.” Two men behind the bench reach out and grip your arms, dragging you from your seat.

You kick and scream, twisting your body to get them to release you, but it’s no use. One of them slaps his hand over your mouth, silencing you.

“She’s fuckin’ testy,” one of the men grabbing you grunts, tightening his grip on you.

“Just how I like ‘em,” Jack sneers.

The men drag you down the street, and you notice a black van that must’ve been there the entire time; you just hadn’t seen it in your earlier panic.

You know you can’t let them get you in the van. If you get in the van, you’re as good as dead.

You let your body give out, becoming dead weight to the two men carrying you. Your body sinks to the ground, and you use their surprise to your advantage, getting one of your arms free. You kick and scratch, fighting tooth and nail to escape their grips.

Everyone freezes when two gunshots fire from behind you. The men draw their weapons, while one grabs you from the ground and holds you against his chest, a human shield. You realize it’s Jack, and you hold your breath.

Bodies fall all around you, gunshots ringing through the air.

You open your eyes, not realizing they’d been squeezed shut. When you’re finally able to focus on the people around you, you see Loki, gun drawn, taking out the men who’d tried to force you into the van.

His face is unreadable, but you can see fury flickering in his eyes. He turns his gaze to you, and his brow furrows.

“Let her go,” Loki commands, but Jack just grips you tighter.

“Stop shooting, and I will,” he responds, voice wavering slightly. “What’s so special about her anyway?”

Loki shakes his head, not deigning to reply. But honestly, you want an answer too. Why is Loki going through all this trouble to save you? Why does he care?

“Who do you work for?” Loki asks, cocking his head. His gun is still drawn, still pointed straight at you and Jack. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts walking the two of you back toward the van. Your legs drag beneath you, trying to slow him down, but it does nothing. Loki slowly walks forward, not letting Jack get too far away.

When Jack reaches the van’s passenger side, he uses one hand to open the door. You brace yourself for whatever comes next, but you don’t expect him to toss you to the ground like he does.

You land hard on your hands and knees as the van speeds away, tires squealing.

Loki tucks his gun into his waistband, and you look around, realizing no one is left to fight him. Everyone is either dead or escaped in the van.

You try to stand, but your legs wobble beneath you, and you crumple back down, though you never hit the ground. Loki sweeps you into his arms, holding you against his chest.

His heartbeat thuds against his ribcage, a metronome for your shaking breaths.

Loki carries you the entire way back to the house in silence. You don’t even think about escaping his grasp. Part of you knows he’d find you and drag you right back. It’s terrifying.

You think back to earlier in the week when you’d promised yourself that you’d fight him at every turn. You promised you wouldn’t let this be easy for him. What happened to all that?

In all honesty, you know what happened. You’re exhausted, and you don’t know what to think anymore. The world is becoming increasingly unfamiliar to you with each passing day.

Loki carries you across the threshold of his home, and you think he’ll put you down in the entryway, but he doesn’t. He keeps you in his arms until he gets to the sitting room you’d entered through when looking for your father.

A fire roars in the fireplace, warming the room comfortably. Loki sets you down on an ottoman near the fire with a gentleness you hadn’t expected him to be capable of. He stands at full height, rolling his sleeves up to reveal toned arms.

You take in his form, how his black clothes fit him perfectly, hugging his chest and thighs. As your eyes track down his body, you notice he’s bleeding from a large gash on his leg.

“You’re hurt,” you say, choking on the words. Loki’s head drops, investigating his wound.

He holds a hand against the cut on his leg, but you know he needs to do more than just keep pressure if he’s ever going to heal. He doesn’t question you when you step away and make your way to the en-suite powder room, digging through the cabinet under the sink.

You don’t miss the way he rolls his eyes when you return with a first-aid kit. It’s clearly been used plenty, but it’s restocked well enough.

It’ll have to do.

After you’ve gathered all the supplies you think you’ll need to take care of his wound, you return to the sitting room. Loki has taken a seat in a large wingback chair, though he sits on the edge, so he doesn’t bleed on the fabric.

You sink to your knees before him, face heating at the action. You place a hand gingerly on top of his, gently urging him to remove his hand from his leg.

“Here, let me,” you say quietly, moving his hand away. His pant leg is torn around the wound, and you can see that one of the men had probably slashed at him with a knife. You hadn’t even noticed him getting that close.

A small pair of scissors is all you need to cut the fabric of his pants away from his wound. Loki mumbles something under his breath about how expensive they were, but you need to be able to see what you’re doing. If he didn’t want to fuck up his fancy pants, he shouldn’t have gotten himself into this situation.

You carefully wipe the wound with a wet cloth. Loki growls at you deep in his throat, clenching his hands at his sides. “Just hold still.”

“That hurts,” Loki grunts, watching you clean the wound.

“If you’d hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much,” you snap, not caring about having an attitude right now. He can deal.

“Well, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run away.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at his words.

“Well, if you hadn’t scared the shit out of me, I wouldn’t have run away.”

Loki lets your words sink in; the only sound in the room is the crackling of the wood in the fire.

“Well,” he says after a moment, “you shouldn’t have been in the West Wing.”

You huff out a laugh at his words. Of course he’s still caught up on that. You know you shouldn’t have seen what you did, but that’s not important right now.

“Well, you should learn to control your temper.”

You wait for Loki to come up with a snappy response, but instead, he lowers his head, seeming to let the argument fade.

You’re satisfied with how clean the wound is, so you ready a needle and thread, trying to gauge how many stitches you’ll have to put in. “Now, hold still. This may sting a little.”

Loki says nothing to acknowledge what you’ve said, but you catch the grunt he makes when you stick him with the needle.

You end up putting six stitches into the wound, tying it up nicely, considering you’ve never done this before. As you place the antibiotic ointment and bandage on his leg, you feel his eyes on you, watching your hands as they graze his skin. “By the way,” you begin quietly, “thank you for saving my life.”

You look up at Loki from where you’re kneeling and see how beautiful he is this way. He is made of power, born to control. His gaze is like fire, licking at your skin.

“You’re welcome, my flower.”

Series Tags: @huntress-artemiss @buckysteveloki-me @raelorns21 @yukiartistz @apollonshootafar @apollonshootafar

General Tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @searchf0rtheskyline @writerwrites @late-to-the-party-81 @jobean12-blog @prettylittlepluviophile @prettywhenicry4

153 notes · View notes