Hey, if you are still doing the prompts would you be able to do a Tasertricks to #2 please? Loving all the ones you have done so far 💛

bloomsoftly:

i’m so glad you’re liking them!
❤️❤️❤️

this is a drabble that serves as the 4th part of the guns & rosaries ‘verse. you might wanna read the other parts first.

read: part 1, part 2, part 3

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The ride from the medical clinic to the inn was fraught with tension. Less because the occupants of the car were angry with each other, and more because the two couples couldn’t wait to find themselves alone. Darcy couldn’t even stand to look at Loki, she was so desperate for his touch. When his pinky reached across the space between them to hook around hers, she honestly thought she might spontaneously combust.

His warmth radiated from the seat next to hers, so inviting she couldn’t help but look in his direction. The darkness outside prevented her from being able to read his expression; his face was obscured by shadow. She could feel his eyes on her, though, hot and lingering.

And then they were pulling up beneath the welcoming light of the inn, and she caught her first true glimpse of his expression since they were at the clinic treating his wounds. Whereas in the sterile medical room his eyes had been tender and watchful, never straying from her—like he was worried that she was safe, like she might disappear if he looked away for even a second—now his gaze was a full-blown smolder.

It sent lightning coursing down her spine, bold and sharp, until she couldn’t focus on anything but the expectation rising in her blood and the frantic beat of her heart. A satisfied smirk crept across his face, as though he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Another time, perhaps, she might draw out the hunt. Keep him guessing, toy with him a little.

But right now the image of him sailing across the room to lie in a broken heap was too vivid, the memory too fresh. All she wanted to do was get him upstairs and examine him, prove to them both that they had survived and were alive and well. She wanted to get her hands on him, on every glorious, naked inch.

Jane looked between them knowingly as they got out of the car. “See you in the morning. Try not to break anything, or we’ll have to pay for it.” And with a teasing grin she was gone, headed back to Thor’s place.

Without looking at Loki—she couldn’t, didn’t have the strength—Darcy strode into the inn and toward the room they’d rented. He followed behind her, walking close enough that their fingertips brushed against each other every few steps. There was an electric charge sparking between them, and Darcy felt like everyone in the lobby was staring at them.

And then they were in the quiet corridor, within steps of her room. Loki held his hand out for the key, silently demanding to enter first. With a concern for his aches and bruises, Darcy thought about protesting. The slight clenching of his defiant jaw gave him away, and she acquiesced silently. She knew he was only concerned with keeping her safe, and on tonight of all nights, she could stand to indulge his need.

The room was empty, as expected, and Darcy followed him inside. The door had barely closed behind her when she was pressed up against it by six feet of frantic, aroused male. She groaned against his mouth, clinging to him as his tongue swept between her lips. His hands were everywhere: sunk in her hair, caressing her cheek and neck, gripping her waist and kneading her hips.

His touch was soft, if insistent; it was a direct contrast to the unyielding wood of the door at her back, and she shifted against him. The motion brought him back to his senses, and he pulled her away from the door. Toward the bed.

Tripping over herself to pull them up short, she whispered against his mouth, “Are you sure? Your bruises—”

“I’m sure,” he growled, nipping lightly at her lower lip as punishment for doubting him.

“Okay,” she whispered, leaning fully into his body and opening herself up to him.

He froze against her, then burst into a blur of action. All of a sudden her back hit the bed, and he was reaching to help her strip beneath him. She watched him through lowered lashes as he moved; she wanted to memorize everything about this moment.

His eyes shone with appreciation as he looked at her, and he leaned back on his heels to study the picture she made. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” she promised, pulling him back down to her. And then there was no more talking.