Marvel Preferences and Imagines (Taking Requests)

Daisies and Daggers

"This is not her," The man growled, throwing your head to the side.

He yanked on the mask so that it his most of the pale skin that circled around his emerald eyes and forehead. He marched out of the room with such strength that you would have swooned over if he hadn't just almost killed you.

You didn't even know why you were here. It wasn't like you did anything bad. You had been helping you neighbor Mrs. Smith across the street when the men in the black Subaru grabbed you. Normally you would have cooked the poor elderly woman dinner and played cards with her. But now you were stuck in the middle of a room, its white paint peeling slowly off the walls, with a psychopath that your mother had warned you about.

You could only assume that the man that had interrogated you for the last few hours was the famed Loki Odinson. When you first moved to the city, your parents warned you about the mafias and gangs. You weren't afraid of Loki before you were taken -you always believed him to be misunderstood-, but now you were beginning to change your mind.

The man, Loki, stormed into the room followed by the man that had originally grabbed you. You glared at them, but neither seemed to even notice. Loki turned to you.

"Does she even look like an assassin to you?" He growled, clenching his fist as he grabbed a dagger with his right hand.

The hitman shook his head frantically. He glanced over at you. You could see the primal fear pumping in his blood, making his hands shake and his eyes widen as much as they possibly could. You almost felt bad for the man. Almost.

He was the one that launched you into this situation, so it was only fair that he be the one to pay for his mistakes. You couldn't care less. He didn't have a wedding ring, so there was no worried wife waiting for him. His calloused hands spoke of years of using guns, most likely on the battlefield.

"Asgardians don't make mistakes," Loki sneered, pushing the sharp blade against the man's throat.

It didn't draw any blood, but it was hard enough to make the skin an angry shade of dark red. The man tried to speak, but no words were enough to pay for his actions.

With a quick stab between the ribs, the man slumped backward and fell against the floor with a thud. Loki flipped the blade in the air twice before wiping the blood on his jeans. He turns back to you, tucking the dagger into a leather sheath at his hip.

"I can't exactly release you," He mumbled, peering down at the handcuffs that trapped you to the metal table.

You knew that you were as good as dead. No one that saw his true face ever lived. It was some sort of fear tactic. He wasn't stupid enough to let you go. If he did, you both knew that you would go immediately to the police. He sighed, sitting on the chair opposite to you.

"I just want to go home. I was supposed to help Mrs. Smith with her dinner. We were going to make picadillo and arroz," You whispered, more to yourself than anything.

Loki stared up at you trying to hide a faint smile.

"What?" You asked.

He shrugged walking to the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, but he didn't walk out. He just stood there. Eventually, he broke down into laughter, confusing you even more.

"What?" You repeated once he calmed down.

He took a few steps toward the table. He leaned against it while he smiled. He looked years younger than before. As if you had said something that reminded him of a fond memory from his childhood.

"You are sitting handcuffed to a table staring at one of the most fearsome men in the city and you are complaining about not being able to make your neighbor food."

You flushed in embarrassment. He wasn't supposed to hear what you had said. Now that he repeated it out loud, it certainly sounded as if you didn't have your priorities straight.

"So?" You peeped.

Loki stopped smiling.

"You remind me of my mother. She would care about others more than herself. Even as she died, she still worried about others,"

He walked towards you. He took the key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. You rubbed the sensitive skin slowly, trying to get blood to flow again. Loki guides you to a door down the hall from where you were.

The door opened up to a grand kitchen. Double ovens were on either side of a gas stovetop. You raced to open some of the kitchen cabinets. You found then to be full of anything you could possibly need to make any dish that you wanted. Other cabinets were full of spices, some of which you recognized. A large stainless steel sink was in the middle of a grand island that had stools on onside and a dishwasher on the other.

You were surprisingly jealous of the amazing kitchen that the man had. Everything looked as if it had never been touched which made you even more jealous. Loki could afford to have your dream kitchen and never use it.

You turned back to Loki. He was already staring at you, but he looked away as soon as he met your eye. You walked towards him and grabbed his hand. He stumbled behind you as you pulled him towards the giant island.

You handed him pots and spices and cutting boards until he couldn't manage anymore without letting the other pots slip. He set them down as you ran to the large refrigerator. You threw the door open and grabbed the ingredients you needed to make picadillo. He didn't have any black beans, which made you a bit disappointed. No house was complete without a can of black beans.

You cooked the meat in one pan as Loki watched. You laughed slightly when his stomach growled as the amazing aroma that wafered through the air. He was quick to join your side. He even helped you to make the rice, not that it was hard -but you did enjoy his presence-. Once the food was ready, he grabbed two bowls and handed them to you. You placed a generous serving of rice in each bowl and then covered it with the meat.

As soon as you both sat down, Loki immediatly ate. You assumed that either he hadn't had lunch or he had never had Cuban food before. You ate the food slower than Loki, wishing only slightly that he had black beans somewhere.

"Can you just stay here and cook?" Loki asked, once he finshed his second bowl. You were slightly proud that you had made enough for seconds. You laughed slightly, not noticing that he wasn't joking. Once you realized that he was being serious, the air suddenly felt heavier.

You knew that you couldn't go home. He wouldn't allow you. You had seen his face. It didn't stop you from wanting to go home though. You would miss poor Mrs. Smith and your tiny apartment in the middle of Brooklynn.

"I know you're upset, but it's for the best," He tried to convince you. You didn't care though. You wanted to go home. You wanted to forget about Loki. Sure, it had been nice for a little bit, but it was time to face reality. You weren't prepared to throw everything away for a man you barely knew who just so happen to be the biggest crime organizer in the whole of New York City.

"The best for who? You're asking for me to destroy my life, my career, because you don't want to let me go home,"

Suddenly, gone was the mad who you had cooked dinner with. Instead was a man, you assumed, that most people saw. He grabbed you forearm so hard that you knew your were going to have bruises.

"I'm not asking. You're not safe. As soon as you walk out that door, twenty gangs are going to be knocking on your door. They won't care about how much you know, and they certainly don't care if you survive the torture," He whispered harshly in your ear, making goosebumps run along your arms.

He was right. They wouldn't care if you survived. At least with Loki, you know that you were safe-ish. He would actually allow you to do certain things like cooking. Besides, most of your job you could do at home -whereever that was.

"On one condition," You argued, "You let me keep my job and you let me see Mrs. Smith,"

Loki rolled his eyes in frustration, but agreed as long as your promised that you wouldn't run away. You agreed, and walked away. It didn't take you long to realize that you were basically hopeless in this place. You ran back to where Loki had been a few minutes ago, but he had vanished.

Suddenly, you felt how alone you truly were and how impossible this was going to be.