A/N: You and your partner/boyfriend from Ystad Polis, Detective Magnus Martinsson, are working on an arrest. Something goes horribly wrong, however, and the consequences change everything. How will you get over it - or will you?
Trigger warning for mentions of blood and shooting.
* * *
I have never liked hospitals. I tolerate them, because they are a part of my job, but I don’t like them. I don’t like the smell of anti-disinfectants, or the pale walls, or the doctors in their white coats and the patients huddled pathetically in their seats or beds, or the families visiting and looking so remorseful and disgustingly full of love, even though they might have been arguing about the kid’s new boyfriend or threatening each other with god knows what or writing divorce papers just yesterday. But oh no, once you’re in the hospital you’re a saint and everyone loves you, because you, poor thing, are not well.
I hate it, I hate the pity in everyone’s eyes, I hate how quiet everyone speaks. As if everyone there was dying, when actually most people walk out of there on their own feet fairly soon. I hate the hushed voices, the quiet footsteps, and the stupid daytime TV in the background of everything, like it was some all-seeing eye, prying on every little thing happening there.
Most of all I hate it when someone is in the hospital because of me.
A/N: Lo and behold, she writes! Yes, I know I said I probably won’t be writing anything for a while and I feel weird about RPF and what even, but you know what? Fuck that, because I was hit with inspiration for this piece and it wouldn’t leave me. So I present you with some (late) Valentine’s Day smut.
Tom Hiddleston/reader. Explicit sexual content and language.
Tom Hiddleston asks you to be his Valentine. What follows is much more than a box of chocolate or bouquet of flowers…
* * *
"I know you’re not too keen on all this Valentine’s Day business…" Tom’s voice purred in your ear, "…but would you be my Valentine?"
A/N: Finally filled this prompt! A bit different from what I intended, but here it is. Thank you to the anon who sent it, I hope you like this! :)
Quite a few occasions of cursing in this one, for some reason. No warnings, explicit sexual content and language.
* * *
It all started so simply. You and Tom had been forced to spend the weekend away from each other, from Friday all the way to Monday evening, as he would be taking part in a conference out of town, and you were stuck there, trying your best to finish the essay you had to write by midnight on Sunday.
Well, it wasn’t as simple as you had thought it would be, anyway.
A/N: My first Loki fic in ages!
Loki has taken you to his home, to Asgard, and is now, after two weeks, going to show you a new side of himself…
[AU, where Loki is the King of Asgard.]
Explicit sexual content and language, no warnings.
* * *
"Now that you’re finally here, with me, I need you to understand something…" Loki said, his voice dropping into a whisper as he leaned closer to you, lips by your ear.
"You are mine. Mine alone. And I shall have you as I please… My servants will make sure you are bathed and presentable. Be ready at sundown.”
The instructions had come in a clipped tone, with an even voice and no hint of emotion whatsoever - other than the yearning you knew was boiling right under the surface of his skin. You had been in Asgard for about two weeks now, you weren’t even exactly sure of the time yourself anymore, for the days and nights seemed to blend into a mixture of passion and wonder, as you explored the kingdom and castle, and Loki explored your body and soul.
A/N: At least this one more drabble! :D
It is three weeks until you and Magnus are to be married, but one morning you get a big surprise that will change your lives… No warnings.
[Also, I’m going away for the weekend so consider this little thing something to hopefully make up for my absence. See you on Sunday! <3]
* * *
It was three weeks until your wedding, until Magnus would be officially yours and you’d be his. Three weeks, and all the preparations and stress and worries would be over, and you could just enjoy married life with your husband. In other words, you could go back to normal life, meaning work, takeout meals and regular sex.
Or so you had thought.
Then came that morning, the morning you woke up with a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. It was more of an emotional than a physical thing, you knew that. Something wasn’t right. For a while you didn’t know what it was, and had time to turn around, kiss Magnus’s cheek and play with the curls at the nape of his neck… Then it hit you.
A/N: I know these drabbles and fics don’t come out in any kind of chronological order, sorry! This time it’s time for some big words. Who says them, you or Magnus?
* * *
There was at least one thing you had learned in your job as a detective, and that was that after a particularly rough day or a difficult case, you needed to relax, unwind, throw you brain out the window for a while. To forget. Before, that need had been easily solved with a night out and your good friend Mr Alcohol, but lately… Lately all that had been replaced with sex.
And not sex with just anyone. Sex with Magnus.
A/N: You and Magnus practice your wedding waltz. And get distracted. ;)
Explicit sexual content and language, no warnings. Inspired by this gif by maria-morevna.
* * *
"You keep stepping on my toes!"
“So do you.”
“No, I’m doing what were supposed to be doing, you’re not, so it’s your fault.”
“I told you I’m not a dancer…”
You sighed and let go of Magnus, taking a step back.
“If we’re going to dance at the wedding, we have to practice…” you reminded him, getting an exasperated sigh as a reply. Magnus clearly wasn’t as keen as you were.
“I know,” he finally groaned. “Okay, let’s try again.”
A/N: A follow-up for Awake?. The only warning is cuteness overload…
* * *
She really was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And he had seen many things in his life. Many, many things. But nothing could compare to this. Not in a million years.
She was sleeping there, on the other side of the glass. She looked so peaceful. Not a worry in the world. He crossed his arms across his chest, simply staring at her with a warm, loving smile spreading across his face.
A/N: Something a little bit different. I loved writing this. :) No warnings.
* * *
Well, here we are. Or here I am, I should say, since it’s my hand writing this, and you’re somewhere else. Work, I think. Still. You always seem to be there. My brilliant detective, always solving the cases and not caring about yourself… Sometimes it makes me worry that you’ll burn yourself out, but then you prove me wrong and show me just how well you can relax… Maybe you’ll be okay, after all. Maybe I shouldn’t worry. But then again, you know me - I can’t help it.
Anyway, yes, you’re probably laughing your arse off right now. Magnus Martinsson writing a letter, a love letter, who would have thought? See, this is what you make me do. This is all your fault. Dammit, woman.
A/N: Yet another drabble. Sweetness, morning, sex, and a little (or not so little) surprise. :)
Sexual moments and language, no warnings.
* * *
Sex with Magnus was always great. Or, fantastic, if you were completely honest. Absolutely fantastic.
So it had been this time, too, and you found yourself lying atop him, out of breath and pleasantly exhausted. His fingers lazily caressed your bare back, slowly running up and down your spine. You shivered slightly with the pleasurable feeling.
"That was good," you murmured against his chest.
"More than that, that was… Wow," he sighed happily, lifting his head up to kiss your hair.