Trust Me

Trust Me

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 1,044

Summary: You are an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D. and are assigned on the case of Loki. What will your final judgment be?

Warnings: N/A, I believe.

A/N: Happy birthday to Tom Hiddleston! <3

Also, this is a bit irrelevant to the events of Thor: The Dark World; my apologies for that.

“I don’t understand,” the clipped, slightly accented and very much annoyed voice of Loki resonated in the empty room, and he fixed his piercing glare on you and his brother Thor, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat yet returned the Trickster’s cool look.

“I have paid my dues. I have understood the weight of my crimes and I have spent a sufficient amount of time in prison, thinking of what I did wrong and doing everything else expected of an inmate like me. Now that you need my assistance, why won’t you just let me out?” he insisted on the same argument he had gone over numerous times but always used slightly different words for. He enunciated every word clearly, as if he was speaking to two rather stubborn children instead of Thor and an experienced S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

“We told you, Loki. You are too dangerous to be trusted. We just need the information,” Thor’s deep, loud, voice boomed and echoed in the confined space of the room you were in.

Loki frowned, his eyes scanning you carefully for anything that might be useful to him, and you allowed yourself to break character long enough to shrug apologetically at him, indicating that it wasn’t in your power to decide about his future.

Loki and you had a rather... interesting relationship that deviated from the usual one between an officer of the law and a criminal. You knew there was good inside him; you knew he had changed, and you knew that well. It had been only last night when, anxious about his interview with you and Thor, he had confessed all of his fears and insecurities to you and kissed you senseless.

There was no hint of the previous night’s desperation and vulnerability in him now. His posture was straight, regal -that of a king’s- and his expression was neutral, almost bored.

“I don’t have the information,” Loki said sharply, the sound of his voice drawing you back to reality. “But I have a way of finding it that would require countless hours of research -and that could only be possible if I were free to go to the palace library,” he said, meaningfully rattling the handcuffs that tied his hands together.

Thor and you shared a look at that and, without a word, you got up and walked out of the room.

“Whatever shall we do, Lady Y/N? I am afraid that Loki is right -we need his help, and it is obvious that the only way to ensure that is to free him. But he is dangerous, and both Asgard and Midgard alike would be enraged if they found out about this. The threat of another of his attacks is too big, and the fear too fresh in the people’s minds. We can’t just cut him loose,” Thor said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t want for my first big and crucial decision to be a failure, but I also cannot let this mission fail, and without Loki’s help, disaster would be imminent.”

You thought for a bit. You, of course, wanted Loki’s freedom. You’d seen a reformed Loki in the cage the previous night, and you wanted the world to understand that he indeed was different.

“Nobody said that the world has to know. And we don’t have to cut him loose either. He asked for a way out of that cage, but any place -if guarded properly- can become a prison. You can convert his rooms into a heavily guarded holding place and you can gradually give him more and more freedom until he either convinces you of his change or gives you a reason to throw him back in jail,” you suggested, and Thor’s frown turned into a smile.

“That’s brilliant -and exactly what we are going to do. But I have to ask a small favour of you. Could you watch him while he does his research? You’re intelligent enough to keep him under control,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Certainly. It’d be my pleasure.”

Half an hour later, you were standing near a table inside a vast, seemingly endless, library with Loki next to you. You were so caught up in the mystery and sheer mass of the books that surrounded you that at first you didn’t notice Loki’s piercing gaze.

“What is it?” you asked him, and he continued to look at you in that way that made you feel as if he was reading you. In the end, frustrated, he heaved a sigh.

“It must’ve been you who convinced Thor to give me this -however limited- amount of freedom,” he said, and you smiled, understanding the underlying message. ‘Thank you.’

“I just... I trust you,” you replied, and he chuckled.

“Not a wise decision on your part. I’m a criminal.”

It was your turn to fix him with a piercing glare. “Yes, you are, but I believe you’ve seen that what you did wasn’t right. I believe that a part of you -if not all of you- has changed,” you said firmly, moving closer to him. “I always had my doubts when it came to what everyone said. Last night only helped reassure me. Loki, give me no reason to distrust you, and I won’t,” you told him, and you were happy to see a small, rare, smile appear on his lips.

“Last night... it was good,” you said hesitantly, and his smile turned into a more predatory one. He walked closer to you, backing you up against the table and trapping you between its cold surface and his body.

“But this night can be better,” he muttered, leaning closer to you and pressing his lips on yours. His tongue licked your lower lip and you gave a small moan, opening your mouth to allow him access. The kiss was heated, passionate and needy, very much unlike the previous night’s tender caresses.

“I like the way you trust me,” he muttered as he pulled away, and you barely managed to stifle a whimper at the sight of his heated gaze.

“Always,” you muttered back, and he smirked.

“What do you say we postpone research for a while?” he suggested and, not waiting for a response, leaned closer to capture your lips with his.

How to be a Writer

Step 1: Hate everything you ever write ever.

Step 2: Keep writing.

Bookstores always remind me that there are good things in this world.

Vincent van Gogh (via vincentvangogh-art)

Join Me

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Word Count: 1,074

Summary: The reader wants to confront Lucifer, but ends up giving into her darkest desires…

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hope it’s okay!

Your palms, clutching the gun tightly, were sweating and your hands were shaking visibly. If your hunting partners were there, they would have been sure to tease you about that, as you took pride in your steady hand and perfect aim.

But they weren’t even alive anymore, and all because of the man -archangel, demon, whatever- standing there in front of you with his back turned to you; vulnerable and bare. Nobody had seen him kill them, but word was he had sent his demons to do the dirty job.

Still, it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

Your whole body was shaking with anger and fear, and the adrenaline was pumping through your blood, making your skin buzz and tingle. Every slight movement felt weird, as if you weren’t fully in control of your body and you were feeling someone else control it.

You were so angry, so livid and full of rage, that while you knew your simple bullets would do nothing to harm Lucifer himself, you had to try. Your life held no meaning anyway without your friends and hunting partners, and you’d get your revenge if it was the last thing you did.

Suddenly, the stability in your arms returned and you were able to carefully aim at Lucifer’s back and fire.

The bullet cut right through Lucifer’s vessel’s body, and a spray of blood coloured his shirt crimson, but his face held an amused expression as he turned to face you.

He shook his head and pursed his lips in disappointment, and you felt like a scolded child. Not knowing what else to do, you fired again at him as he approached you, but not so much as a wince of pain crossed his face.

When he was actually close enough so you could feel the heat his body emanated, he smirked cruelly and with a simple twist of his wrist you were pinned against the wall behind you.

“You’ve been a reaaaaaally naughty girl, Y/n,” Lucifer said, shaking his head again and making your blood boil with anger. You were surprised by how human he actually sounded, how real and tangible and not supernatural at all.

You struggled against your invisible bonds, trying to form words so you could respond to him, but you were unable to.

“I can’t decide if you want to ask me how I know who you are or if you just want to tell me to ‘go to hell’,” he grinned, chuckling at his own joke, as you once again found yourself surprised, almost mesmerised by his voice.

Again, you tried to speak, only this time you found yourself able to actually form words.

“Both,” you croaked out, upper lip curling in a sneer of hatred.

Lucifer cast you another disappointed look, and part of you actually felt chastised by it. He was menacing, and imposing, and it felt as if he could make everyone in a room feel inferior just by breathing.

“I know your name because you are a very capable hunter indeed, and I have been keeping a close eye on you,” he said, smirking.

“So close an eye that you killed my best friends?” you spat out in fury.

“I had to do what had to be done to gain a follower, my dear,” Lucifer replied with a shrug.

“Oh, and did you get that follower? Were they worth it?” you almost screamed at him.

He smirked enigmatically. “I don’t know yet. That is up to you.”

Your heart beat faster as you came to a realisation. Lucifer wanted to recruit you.

“You bastard. Why would I ever join you?” you sneered.

“You are capable. You are inconspicuous. You are smart, and talented, and you are just like me. You are a shining star now, your parents’ favourite and your friends’ beloved, but I can see the strain in your eyes. You don’t want this life of a prodigy because your ideals are different. Act upon them; join me, and the world will be at our feet. It will be ours to do with as we wish; ours to create and to destroy,” he said, and you were embarrassed by how close to home his words had actually hit. You had always hated how the hunter’s life had just been thrust upon you without anybody asking you first, and what you had hated even more was the fact that you were amazing at being a hunter.

“We’re different,” you said, grasping at straws. He could see in your eyes that his words rang true, that what he had said had affected you in more ways than you cared to admit.

“Everyone’s different,” he scoffed. “But you and I… not so much. The only difference I can see is that your Hell is right here. You are living it every moment, breathing it in and exhaling it with every breath. And you know it. You can feel it. Yet… you deny it. We want the same things. Accept it,” he said, calmly striding closer to you; so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face.

You held his blue gaze for a long while, neither looking away.

“I am not like you,” you insisted.

Lucifer just gave a cold, low, laugh and leaned even closer to you, touching his lips to yours.

What you realised first was that you were no longer bound by his invisible spell. He was actually giving you the option to decide here.

That took you by surprise, but what astonished you even more was the fact that you were responding positively to his increasingly rough kiss. He was kissing and licking and sucking and biting and, when he met no resistance, he pushed you against the wall and trapped you between it and his body.

“What is your answer?” he asked, voice low in a growl as he pulled away from the kiss that had left you breathless and yet wanting -needing- more.

“Yes,” you said breathily.

You didn’t know why you replied with what you did. The only sure thing was that no demon was possessing you because your anti-possession tattoo was still whole and unharmed.

The prospect of the world being yours was seductive, and you couldn’t say no now that you had the way to make it reality.

Lucifer smirked. “Welcome, my queen,” he muttered and leaned closer to capture your lips in another desperate, needy, kiss.

Together At Last

Pairing: Sam x reader

Word Count: 923

Summary: Sam and the reader were best friends in high school. What happens when, years later, they stumble across each other on a hunt?

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I hope you like it!~

You’d known Sam for a long time. You’d met him at school during your last year there, and he quickly became your best friend. All too soon for you, he and his family had left the small town you and your mother were living in during that time period.

You made sure to keep in touch with him. His phone number changed constantly, as did yours, but you’d always stayed in contact.

It was really strange when, recently, he didn’t respond to your calls, e-mails or texts. Two years now, you hadn’t gotten a single word from Sam Winchester, a signal that he was alive and still thinking of you.

‘Maybe,’ you thought as you packed your hunting things in a backpack and slung it over your shoulder, ‘Maybe he’s not thinking of me. Or maybe he’s not alive,’ you sighed at your depressing train of thought and cursed yourself for thinking so much about him even now, two years after you’d had your last contact with Sam and so many years after you’d last seen him.

Cursing yourself under your breath, you shook your head to clear it and headed towards your destination: an abandoned house where ghost sightings had been reported. Armed with rock salt, a pack of matches and a lot of other weapons that would be useless against a ghost but made you feel safer; you made your way up to the house.

You had just closed the door behind you and switched your torch on when you heard a gun being cocked and the bright beam from another person’s torch was in your eyes.

But then the beam was lowered and, in the meagre light it and your own flashlight created, you could barely make out the characteristics of a tall, broad-shouldered man that reminded you too much of...

“Sam?” you choked out in surprise, wondering what the hell he could be doing here.

He didn’t speak. He just flung some water at you from a small bottle held in his hand, and he frowned when the results were negative.

“I’m not a fucking demon,” you hissed at him and drew a silver knife from your belt, slicing a cut across your palm. “And I’m not a shapeshifter either.”

“You can’t be Y/N,” he stated with certainty.

“I can’t? Why’s that, Sam?” you asked, and his frown deepened. “Because Y/N isn’t a hunter. I would’ve known.”

“I am a hunter. And of course you wouldn’t have known -I hadn’t realised you’re a hunter either,” you said in your defence.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? We’ve talked so many times,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t know you’re a hunter as well, so I couldn’t exactly call you one day and tell you that I’ve been hunting monsters ever since I could walk. Most people don’t even know that monsters exist,” you replied, locking eyes with his.

Even in the too little white light that the torches’ beams cast, his eyes were the same hazel you remembered, his smile -though small right now- was instantly recognisable as Sam.

“You’re so tall now,” you muttered suddenly, and he chuckled. “You’re still beautiful,” he said, and you could have sworn that a small blush coloured his cheeks as he said that, but the lighting was so bad that you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, you ran up to him and threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you,” you said, a grin on your face that could rival the sun in brightness.

“I’ve missed you too. So much,” he muttered.

“Why did you stop replying to my messages and calls?” you asked him, pulling far enough away so you could look at him, but not so far that you would have to take your arms off from around him.

“I wanted to keep you safe. Away from the life of a hunter. I thought that the best way to do that would be to sever all contact with you. It hurt, because you were my best friend, and I...” here, Sam trailed off, and you waited for him to pick up the threads of his sentence, but he never did.

“I wasn’t your best friend, Sam. I still am, if you want to, if you need me. I sure as hell need you,” you muttered, and were elated to see a smile take over the frown that had clouded his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually, “But I...” he hesitated again before taking a deep breath, “I’ve always liked you. More than just friends. Perhaps more than like. It’s as if... I’ve been in love with you all my life, from the moment I met you onwards,” he confessed awkwardly, his voice low in a murmur, and you blushed.

You didn’t respond. Words weren’t really your thing; but actions were. So you stood on your tiptoes, put your arms around Sam’s neck and pressed your lips to his, pulling him into a kiss that held frustration, longing and so many bottled-up feelings. The feel of his tongue against your lips, in your mouth, toying and fighting with your own made your skin tingle and your brain shut down as you gave into the sensations, savouring every single moment.

“Two hunters in love. It’s risky,” you muttered when you pulled away.

“It’s not just risky. It’s mortally perilous,” he responded breathily, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

You giggled as he leaned down to kiss you again.

“And I love it.”

Epic Winchester catches.

and then there’s the one time it didn’t work…