#Asgardian Possession

[violetflowerswrites]

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

For My King

King Valkyrie x fem!reader

Word count: 795

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls V King, hair pulling, mild pain play, dirty talk, orgasm control, use of cock with magic, power dynamics, degradation

Authors notes: I've only written Val one other time and it was a short drabble of ValCarol so I hope this feels like Val~

Valkyrie is lounging on her throne, her sharp eyes watching as you approach. The atmosphere between you is charged, filled with unspoken tension, the kind you both savor. You stand in front of her, your body almost buzzing with anticipation as her gaze slides over you, assessing, commanding without words.

"Come here," she says, her voice low, a smirk playing on her lips. You obey, stepping closer until you're standing between her legs. Valkyrie reaches up, tangling her fingers in your hair, giving it a light, teasing tug.

You let out a soft gasp, your body instinctively responding to her control. She chuckles, her grip tightening slightly, pulling you down to meet her gaze.

"You like that, don’t you?" she murmurs, her voice laced with amusement. You nod, but she clicks her tongue in disapproval.

"Use your words, love."

"Yes, My King," you manage, your breath catching as she tugs your hair a little harder, the delicious pressure sending a shiver down your spine.

"Good girl," she praises, leaning in, her lips brushing your ear. Her grip remains firm, keeping you exactly where she wants you as her other hand trails down your back, possessive and commanding.

She whispers in your ear, "I want you to ride me love." A breathy noise comes out of you, 

"Yes my King.”

Valkyrie’s smirk widens at your response, the title you’ve given her sending a spark of satisfaction through her eyes. Her fingers tighten in your hair, pulling you even closer so her lips are just inches from your ear.

"That's right," she whispers, her voice like velvet, making heat pool in your core. "Now be a good girl for your King."

Your knees almost buckle under the weight of her words, but you steady yourself, heart pounding as you straddle her lap. Valkyrie’s hands slide to your waist, guiding you onto her cock with a firm, possessive grip. The way her eyes rake over your body sends a shiver through you, the power she holds over you undeniable.

You slowly sink down onto her. Her grip tightens on you as you take her whole cock. The amazing thing about Asgardian magick was that Val could change herself to suit her needs. 

You begin to move, slow at first, finding a rhythm that makes your breath hitch. Valkyrie’s strong hands dig into your hips, her mouth grazing your neck as you move together. Each pull of her hands sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel her strength beneath you, steady and unwavering.

"That's it, love," she growls softly, her lips brushing against your skin. "Show me how much you need me."

You whimper, gripping her shoulders for balance as you ride her, lost in the intoxicating mix of pleasure and submission. Valkyrie’s hands move to your back, pulling you closer, her lips trailing up to your ear.

"You’re mine," she whispers, her voice low and commanding. "And you’ll do exactly as I say.”

"Yes, my King," you breathe out, your body trembling from her words, knowing there’s nothing you’d want more than to obey.

Valkyrie’s voice is a low growl in your ear, her breath hot against your skin as she gives your hair another sharp tug, tilting your head back. The mixture of pleasure and pain is overwhelming, each pull sending a shockwave through your body.

"Go on, love," she commands, her lips brushing your neck. "Cum for your King. Cum from your hair being pulled."

Your breath hitches, and your body moves instinctively in response to her words. The pressure at your scalp, the feeling of her control, has you spiraling closer and closer to the edge. Valkyrie’s hands tighten around you, her grip unrelenting, holding you exactly where she wants you as she guides your movements.

"That’s it," she murmurs, her voice dark and filled with pride. "I know you’re close. I can feel it.”

Your body trembles in her grasp, a soft moan slipping from your lips as her hand tightens in your hair once more, the pain and pleasure driving you wild. It’s too much, the pressure building inside you until you can’t hold back anymore.

“Go on…be a good slut and cum on your King's cock.”

With a final sharp pull, you shatter, crying out as the pleasure washes over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. Valkyrie’s name tumbles from your lips, your body collapsing against hers as you ride out the wave of pleasure.

She holds your hips, pounding up into you until she's shooting ropes of her cum into you. Making you grip tighter onto her as a second orgasm washes over you. Her heat settling inside of you. 

"Good girl," she whispers against your ear, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Such a good girl for your King.”

[rosedpetal]

Behave is SOOO hot! I can’t help but imagine giving Bucky a taste of his own medicine. Let’s see how he reacts when he’s suddenly too aware of the men thirsting over his wife and maybe a little bratty twist that while his wife doesn’t entertain them, she also doesn’t stop them, bonus if she keeps Bucky at a distance. then bam, he snaps. Filthy jealous/possessive smut. I’m sorry imma see my way out ur work short circuited my brain 😭

girly, he'd be PISSED

Part I | Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut.

Minors, do not interact.

To say you were enjoying your little power trip was an understatement.

Dressed in a long gown, with your hair up in the most beautiful bun Bucky's ever seen, a few locks loose to frame your face, and your makeup done by a professional, you were a vision to behold.

Unfortunately, it wasn't for his eyes only.

Being the wife of an Avenger meant dealing with people and fancy events. Most of the time, Bucky accepted the attention with grace, and then moved on with his life.

But on some very rare occurrences, his fans and the press also turned their attention to you.

It wasn't that Bucky wasn't proud of the gorgeous woman by his side — he gave you one of those freaking Darry engagement rings that could only be bought once by person, and married you only half a year later. 'I don't wanna give you any more time that could make you change your mind', were his exact words to you. He was insane about you. You were the love of his life, and he overcame so much to make sure he would be worthy of your love.

He worshipped the ground you walked on. And he wasn't afraid to tell you that.

But just like a man born in his time, Bucky was extremely possessive of his wife.

And he couldn't stand the two photographers flashing their cameras at you and asking you to 'turn around', 'blow a kiss' or 'smile'.

Bucky's mood was changing quickly, as he analyzed every micro expression on their faces as they took pictures of you. Your face, your dress, your fucking curves.

And you were gracefully accepting every little praise, your smile a little too bright for Bucky's liking.

While he tried to detain his thoughts to going for that dark place, were he would bash these assholes' heads on the concrete until they were beyond recognition, he couldn't help but wonder what had triggered such a reckless behavior from you.

Did he do something that riled you up during this week? He remembers unloading the dishwasher the moment you asked for it. Sometimes he forgets his shoes in the middle of the living room, but it surely couldn't be it.

His eyes darkened in realization when he finally figured you out. Letting these men fawn over you like you were a free woman... That was payback.

Bucky was very aware of your territorial nature when it came to him. For fucks sake, you let the whole world know when you were pissed at another woman for eye fucking him just by the way your eyebrows furrowed and your lips pressed in a thin line, — which once Thor made the mistake of pointing to, and the mean mug you gave the Asgardian still haunted his dreams to this day.

So, Bucky teased you for it. It was okay, right? It was just light banter. You couldn't be possibly punishing him for such a petty reason right the fuck now?

His mind took a quick turn to all the life choices he made that had lead to this exact moment. You giggling and tossing your hair while other men undressed you with their eyes.

It doesn't matter that they were simply doing their jobs. He could see how long they were taking to photograph you when... Well, Bucky was the famous one.

The moment one of the photographers' hands went for you, Bucky instantly reacted, putting himself between you and the fucking moron that seemed to conveniently forget that you were a married woman and your husband was right there.

"Don't you dare touch my wife. Keep running your fucking mouth and taking your fucking pictures and I'll show you why they used to call me Winter Soldier." Bucky's voice was low and lacking any emotion, his vibranium hand wrapped tightly around the dude's wrist.

Bucky's threat wasn't directed at you, but it went straight to your core. You felt all warm and fuzzy inside as he went all alpha mode.

The two guys quickly excused themselves after that, and you let out a light chuckle.

"Thank God, they finally left. I was worried for a second they were gonna blind me with- hey, what are you doing? Bucky, what the fuck?" You whispered as he practically dragged you back to the waiting car, quickly sending a text to Sam to let him know you two were leaving early.

He opened the door for you and you quickly scooped inside, knowing your husband was mad. Bucky sat next to you and told the driver to roll up the partition wall.

"Bucky, talk to me!" You finally snapped, annoyed. "Why are we leaving early?"

"Because-" Bucky turned to you, interrupting himself when he noted how loud he was being, lowering his voice on the next words, and pointing his index finger to your face, eyes boring into yours. "Because you decided to piss me the hell off tonight, and I'm gonna have to teach you how properly a married woman should behave."

Your eyes widened in indignation as you threw your bag in the couch. "Excuse me? How properly I should what? I'm sorry to inform you, honey, but this is the 21st fucking century, not the damn 40s."

Bucky chuckled, humorlessly. The audacity of you. To twirl your hair locks while smiling at other men flirting with you openly, and now pretend he was the bad guy for reprimanding you.

"You're gonna keep your mouth shut until we get home, and if you so much as try to be cute with me, I promise that what I have in store for you is gonna turn ten times worse."

You raised your eyebrow. Maybe you were looking for trouble today, but you sure as hell weren't about to let Bucky undermine you over his bruised ego.

"What are you now, a caveman? Is your masculinity so fragile that you can't stand the fact that I can be lusted after too? When you smirk at me across the room while women are flaunting themselves to you, you think you're the only one entitled to make me feel insecure, as if you're a goddamn prize?"

"Y/N-"

"No, please, enlighten me on why the hell you think you can joke with your friends about my possessiveness and act exactly the same, then have the guts to belittle me for it!"

"Dollface-"

"You know what? I was only posing-"

"Goddamnit, will you shut up?" Bucky snapped. "I don't smirk at you across the room to show off and make you jealous, I do it because I thought it was our thing! Some delusional girl will come to me, I'll playfully smile at you because we both joke on how ridiculous they are! I'm not trying to make you insecure, you insane little thing, I think it's cute how you react every time, and how you never direct your anger at me. And by the way, I never tossed or twirled my hair for any woman, or giggled, just to spite you!"

You clenched your fists. No. Even if he was right (which he wasn't), you couldn't just give in and apologize right now. You had reasons to be pissed, you were tired of being teased, as if you were the only one in the relationship that was overly jealous. You knew your words should've been measured, but right now, you couldn't care less. You crossed your arms, voice neutral as you gave him the fatal blow:

"You know what I think, James? I think you're not enough of a man, and what I just did broke your little illusion of power. That's what got your lady panties in a twist."

Bucky's jaw clenched, a flash of anger coursing through his veins. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Are you deaf?"

Two seconds of you staring at him with your coy little act, he was fuming and he practically lunged at you. You squealed and giggled when he pushed you to lay on your back in the leather seat of the limo, breathless and flustered.

"You little minx. You're about to get spanked in the back of a limo like the whore you are." Bucky hissed in your ear, maneuvering you so you were laying on your stomach. He impatiently raised the long skirts of your dress, not even giving you time to prepare for the series of blows he delivered to your poor ass.

Your giggles quickly stopped, and they turned to whimpers.

"C'mon, brat, tell me I'm not a man now." He nibbled your earlobe, pressing his chest against your back. "I dare you. Go ahead, baby. I'm waiting."

Your ass had his fingerprints now, a beautiful shade of red in them. More beautiful than the blush on your cheeks. Your lip was quivering when he was done, finally showing mercy on your rear. You sighed in relief and he gave you a wolfish grin, his hand sliding between your thighs and collecting your arousal, gently spreading it on your folds, his voice low and full of purpose:

"We're just getting started, baby girl."

"This is not fair." You whined, your words dying down when his index and middle finger entered you, opening you up for him. You bit your hand when curled his digits, brushing against your spongy spot.

"What's not fair? Do you want me to stop?" Bucky teased, kissing your neck.

It was getting hot inside the limo, with your gown and your husband crowding you against the leather seats. The sweat was quickly forming in your skin, and it was a bit uncomfortable, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him to stop.

"No... I just-"

"I just-" Bucky mocked you, clicking his tongue. "Can't even speak anymore?"

"It's hot." You complained, in a whiny tone.

Bucky sighed, sitting up to turn the air conditioner on, the cold breeze welcomed to you both. His fingers never left your pussy, and he scissored you hard, smirking at how you tried to keep it down so the poor driver wouldn't hear you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand from you, pulling your head back by your hair and shoving his slick digits on your mouth, which you eagerly licked clean. Bucky undid his slacks, groaning in relief when he freed his rock hard length from the constricting fabric. He pulled you to his lap, your back to his chest, your thighs spread over his.

"Think you can ride me without hitting your head in the ceiling?" He whispered on your ear as you grabbed his cock and aligned him at your entrance.

"Hmmm... Probably no." You looked up.

"Then stay still while Daddy fucks you."

Your mouth hung open when he slammed into you, harder than you expected, without giving you time to get used to his thickness. He shoved his tie on your mouth to muffle your moans, one hand on your hip and the other squeezing your breast, while he pistoned his hips up.

You didn't even make a sound.

The sound of his balls slapping against your clit and the shameful, wet noise of your pussy being rammed were enough.

"See why I'm so obsessed with you? Why I can't stand you being lusted after? It's cause the thought of someone else having this pussy makes me wanna rip my fucking hair out, baby." Bucky murmured in your ear, his movements not easing down, not faltering for a second. "I know I have no leg to stand on, acting jealous and possessive of you, but fuck if I'm taking a single risk of losing you, of losing this."

Your eyes rolled back, your walls clamping down violently on your husband's cock, and you spasmed above him, reaching your apex.

With a groan that made you blush, Bucky came in hot spurts, filling you up with his load.

His chest was rising and falling as if he ran a marathon, and he gently patted your thigh. "C'mon baby, pull yourself together. We just got home. I'm not done with you yet."

[frostdayz]

Special day in Asgard

Loki x reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: After many days of not really having loki to yourself he plans a day of only you two.

warnings: nothing unless you hate fluff!

AN: Sweet and whipped Loki oh how I love you!!!!!! Hope you all enjoy, I loved writing this :)

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I stirred, blinking awake to the gentle warmth that kissed my skin. I could feel the cool sheets beside me and rolled over to find Loki, already awake, his piercing emerald eyes studying me with a soft, affectionate gaze.

“Good morning, my love,” he greeted, his voice smooth and soothing, like a quiet stream in the early morning light. His dark hair spilled over the pillows, framing his face in elegant disarray.

“Good morning,” I mumbled, still drowsy as I burrowed deeper into the blankets. “You’ve been watching me again.”

He chuckled, his deep, rich laughter reverberating in the stillness of the room. “How could I resist? You look so peaceful when you sleep. It’s a rare moment when I get to see you so at ease.”

I smiled sleepily, letting my eyes drift shut again. But before I could slip back into slumber, Loki shifted, leaning over me to plant a soft kiss on my forehead. His cool lips contrasted with the warmth of my skin, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“As much as I enjoy watching you sleep, I thought today we could do something different,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against my ear.

I opened one eye, peering at him suspiciously. “What kind of different?”

He grinned, mischief glinting in his eyes. “No tricks, I promise. Just a day for us. No royal duties, no interruptions—just you and me.”

That got my attention. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I looked at him. “Really? You’re not being summoned by Odin, or Thor isn’t planning another one of his adventures?”

Loki shook his head, his expression softening. “No, not today. Today, I’m all yours.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I reached out to cup his cheek. “I like the sound of that.”

Loki’s eyes sparkled as he leaned into my touch before pulling away and sliding out of bed with effortless grace. “Then let’s start the day right, shall we?” He offered me his hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

We both got dressed, Loki in his usual dark green tunic that accentuated his lean figure, and I in a flowing Asgardian cloak he had gifted me not too long ago. As we left our chambers, Loki’s hand found mine again, his long fingers intertwining with mine as we made our way to the palace’s grand kitchen.

When we arrived, Loki waved away the palace staff with a gentle nod, insisting that today, we would be preparing our own meal. It was rare for royalty to step foot in the kitchen, but Loki relished the idea of doing something simple and domestic. I found it endearing—another glimpse of the man behind the mask of the trickster.

“What are we making?” I asked, eyeing the vast array of ingredients that lined the countertops.

Loki smirked as he waved his hand, and with a flick of his fingers, various ingredients floated toward us. “Something simple but delightful. How do you feel about pancakes?”

I raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping my lips. “Pancakes? That’s what you consider ‘delightful’?”

“Of course,” he replied with mock seriousness, his lips curving into a playful grin. “They are a delicacy in Midgard, are they not? And I’ve mastered the art of making them. You’ll see.” He joked.

Despite my skepticism, I watched as Loki set to work. True to his word, he moved with practiced ease, mixing flour, eggs, and milk with a fluid grace that only he could possess. I helped where I could, handing him ingredients and stirring the batter while sneaking glances at his concentrated expression.

Once the batter was ready, Loki heated the skillet with a flick of his wrist, and within moments, the rich aroma of cooking pancakes filled the kitchen. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me as I watched him work. This moment, this simple act of cooking together, felt so natural and yet so extraordinary at the same time.

Soon, we had a stack of golden pancakes sitting between us, topped with fresh fruit and drizzled with syrup Loki had conjured up from who knows where. We sat at the table, eating leisurely, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“These are really good,” I admitted after taking a bite. “You weren’t lying.”

Loki smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “I told you. I’m full of surprises.”

After breakfast, we left the kitchen and wandered through the grand halls of the palace. The towering columns and intricately carved walls were familiar to us both, but as we walked hand in hand, it felt like we were seeing them in a new light. Loki regaled me with stories of Asgard’s history, tales I’d heard dozens of times before but never tired of. He spoke of grand battles, ancient legends, and even the occasional prank he had pulled on Thor during their younger years.

“And then, of course, Thor fell for it,” Loki said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he recounted one of his many pranks. “He was always so eager to believe whatever I told him.”

I laughed, picturing Thor’s confused expression. “I can’t believe he didn’t catch on after the first few times.”

Loki shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s the beauty of it. Thor has a good heart, but he’s not always the most… observant.”

As we walked, our conversation flowed effortlessly, like a dance we had perfected over time. We told each other stories we had heard countless times before—tales of our lives, our adventures, and the moments that had brought us together. And yet, each retelling felt just as special as the first.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the palace, we found ourselves in the palace gardens. The air was cool, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the atmosphere as we walked along the stone paths, hand in hand.

“Let’s have dinner out here,” Loki suggested, glancing up at the sky as the first stars began to twinkle overhead. “Under the stars.”

I nodded, loving the idea. “That sounds perfect.”

With another flick of his wrist, Loki conjured a table set for two in the middle of the garden. Candles flickered in the gentle breeze, casting a soft, romantic glow over the scene. Plates of food appeared before us—an array of Asgardian delicacies that looked almost too beautiful to eat.

We sat down, the night air cool against our skin as we dined under the stars. It was quiet, peaceful, with only the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the palace in the background. Loki’s gaze never left mine as we ate, his eyes reflecting the light of the stars above us.

“You’ve made this day perfect,” I said softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Thank you.”

Loki’s expression softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. “You make every day worth living, my love. You are my greatest treasure.”

As the night wore on, we finished our meal and lingered in the garden, talking and laughing as the stars shone brightly above us. Eventually, the coolness of the night air drove us back inside, and we returned to our chambers, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

We undressed in comfortable silence, slipping into bed with the ease of two people who knew each other intimately. Loki pulled me into his arms, his cool skin a comforting contrast to the warmth of the blankets.

I nestled into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I don’t want this day to end,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

Loki pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, his voice low and soothing as he replied, “It doesn’t have to. We can have as many days like this as we want.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over me as I drifted off to sleep in Loki’s embrace. Today had been perfect—a day filled with love, laughter, and the quiet moments that made life so beautiful. And as I fell asleep, I knew that with Loki by my side, every day would be just as perfect as this one.

[vortexbloom]

Loki as your Lover (Headcanons)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Warnings: None

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Boycott List

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn‘t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters

Also, this was made for the amazing person & writer ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ @lavandulawrites 

Have fun reading this :D

Possessive but Subtly

Loki isn’t overly jealous, but he has his ways of making it known that you belong to him. A whispered "Mine" in your ear or an illusion of himself wrapped around you in public does the trick.

Slowly to Trust, Deeply Loyal

It takes time for him to open up, but once he does, he is fiercely devoted. Betrayal from you would shatter him.

Old Norse Romantic

He may be a trickster, but Loki has a poetic side. He whispers ancient Asgardian verses in your ear when you least expect it.

Acts Unbothered, but Melts Inside

He pretends to be indifferent when you touch him, but if you brush your fingers through his hair or kiss his temple, he’s weak.

Intimidating Protector

If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, Loki won’t hesitate to weave illusions or whisper fear into their mind.

Cuddles in the Dark

Loki prefers showing affection in private. He wraps himself around you at night, tangling his limbs with yours.

Talks in His Sleep

Sometimes, he murmurs in Old Norse while dreaming, and if you ask him about it, he gets embarrassed.

Loves Neck Kisses

His weak spot. Kiss him there, and he’ll lose his usual composed self.

Teases but Can’t Take It

Loki loves teasing you but gets flustered if you turn the tables. A single well-placed compliment about his beauty? He’s done for.

Has Nightmares About Losing You

He’s lost so much; sometimes, he dreams of losing you too. He’ll hold onto you tighter those nights.

Vows to Keep You Safe

Loki has a habit of self-sacrifice, but if you ever get hurt because of him, he’ll never forgive himself.

Tries to Push You Away in Fear

At some point, he might try to distance himself, thinking you deserve better. It takes effort to convince him that you love all of him, even the broken parts.

This man deserves more Fics/Stories etc. :(

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 7

Title: The Perfect Jotunn Bride

Kink: Macrophilia

Pairing: Frost Giant! Loki x f!Asgardian!Reader,

Tags/ Warnings: SMUT, macrophilia, temperature play (Frost Giant skin), descriptions of violence (not toward reader), arranged/forced marriage, dubcon, mean!Loki (he should just be a warning anyway), knife play (brief), corset, struggling to breathe (bc of the corset), nipple/breast play, thigh riding, teasing, biting/marking, pet names (see below author's note), squirting, vaginal fingering

No beta - and we're ignoring that I posted this 1 minute past midnight xoxo

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Your Husband, the Frost Giant Prince Loki, has come back from battle and expects to see his bride.

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

A/N: I had to edit this fic more than once to cut and splice things from it. I expect I'll have a part 2 (and 3) soon... I don't even wanna talk about how many words this was YEESH. I gotta learn to make a one shot and not stay up to early hours with a 6k storyline. Again, this was supposed to be LONGER 💀

I found this website here that helped with Old Norse translations (but they may be wrong!) I'll link it once I get the chance - Love, Grem x

smăr einn = little one

Part 2

Prev | Next | Masterlist

You had just barely managed to avoid the advances of your husband for the last few weeks. Too busy with the politics between realms to fully focus on you; and you were grateful for it. Your husband was ruthless, cruel and cold. That last adjective quote literally. The prince of Jotunheim was not to be trifled with; as your brother and father had found out rather perilously. Your father had sought to trick Loki and whilst his back was figuratively turned, your brother  was sent to kill him.  

Loki returned your brother’s mangled corpse back to your home, with a letter promising war unless your father’s prized possession – you – was given as penalty. Marriage with the prince of Jotunheim meant two realms were unified, which was far more prosperous  than war.  However, that meant being ripped away from your home, your family, your friends, your fiancé and everything you had ever known and being thrust into the cold, unforgiving hands of a barbaric frost giant.  You had begged, cried and pleaded with your father but nothing had changed his mind. It was set in stone.

Your new husband took joy in tormenting you on your wedding say, reminding you time and time again that you were lucky to be a negotiation prize rather than one of his spoils of war. The thought had made you shudder with terror and, thankfully, his attentions were lured away to another realm, another battle, another day spent far away from you.

You quickly learned that many of the female frost giants were unimpressed with you as a tiny little thing in comparison to their race as a whole. Your body almost entirely unequipped for Jotunheim weather. Your ladies-in-waiting were no different.  They had spoken in their native tongue in front of you, clearly, discussing you and how you probably didnt meet their standards nor their prince’s. You’d stayed quiet and fiddled with your hands, unsure of how to approach them or speak to them. Everything you knew about frost giants was from your culture; which labelled them as blood-thirsty barbarians. Though, the ice fortress you resided in was immaculate and strictly designed – different from your home in Asgard yet no less civilised.  That was a good starting point.

over the course of the week’s your husband’s absence, you focused on befriending your ladies-in-waiting. You asked about their culture, their lives and the language they spoke. If you were going to be here until the end of your days, you may as well know what is being said behind your back and, well, to your face.

You picked up words quickly, studying in the silence of the enormous bed chamber. You had borrowed a few children’s books from the library, and one or two on the flora and fauna of Jotunheim, though you could only appreciate the pictures thus far.

The bed chamber was far too big   for you, perfect size for your husband, you supposed. Large wooden bookcases adorned the far wall, and there was a small (well small for a giant) fireplace adorned with a fur rug from a creature you couldn’t name, but it was soft. The bed itself was so huge you practically drowned in the covers. It was cosy but you agreed with yourself it was probably cosy because your husband was not there with you.

Yet.

One morning, after waking up  relatively late, your ladies-in-waiting were busying about the bedroom.  

“What’s going on?” you ask nervously, already anticipating the answer.

Gertrud, the more social of the two giantess’, gave you a smile as she paused her dusting of the bookshelf. “Prince Loki is returning from battle today.”

You suppress a shiver and try to smile, but you’re not confident you look entirely happy. “Wonderful.”

Gertrud continues regardless, her face contorting to an excited, doe eyed look.  “He’s sent you a gift ahead of his arrival, my lady.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to sound chipper. In the very short time you had spent in Jotunheim, Loki had only ever taunted you, albeit briefly. A gift was... new. And you didn’t like it one bit.  “How thoughtful of him.”

“He left instruction for you to wear it on his return.” Gertrud says wistfully, as if it’s the most romantic thing she could dream of.

“Wear?” You speak before you can process what’s been said, the shock in your tone evident. Your mouth goes dry and heat burns its way to your cheeks. You weren’t stupid. Wearing something for his return only meant one thing. Your stomach becomes a pit and you have to scream at yourself internally to stop from swaying.

Gertrud mistakes the your shock and flushed face as a sign of excitement, not of worry and fear.  “I must say the garment – whatever it is – is not from Jotunheim. Your husband  must have acquired it for you, my lady.” Gertrud pauses to smile over at you. “I think our prince is quite taken with his bride.”

You flush a deeper shade of pink and clear your throat. “So it would seem.” You murmur carefully. “Where is the garment? What is it?”

Gertrud places the duster down and heads to a dresser on the otherside of the room, picking up a package and handing it over to you. You delicately take the package from her, shivering at the coolness of her skin, and begin to unwrap it. To your surprise, and utter embarrassment, it’s a corset with matching underwear. Gertrud’s eyebrows raise and she gives you a knowing smirk. You bury your face in your hands.

“I do not need to know what that thing is to know it’s intent,” She says smugly. “As I said, our prince is taken with his bride.”

You peek out from your fingers, eyeing the corset.  It’s blue – frost giant blue to be exact – with white lace detail across the bust and back, and white ribbon zigzagging up the back. If this was your husband’s idea of a sick joke, it worked. You still couldn’t decide if you were going to vomit from nervousness.

Gertrud pats your shoulder gently, again misreading your embarassment as bashfulness.

“I will run your bath, my lady. I do not know how to help you into that... thing.” She eyed the corset suspiciously. “But I will ensure that you are ready for your husband’s return.”

You only nod, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You should have known this would be inevitable.

You pace fretfully around the large bedroom. You’d wrapped yourself in a robe, hiding your corset and matching underwear, feeling too exposed even for the man who was your husband. You’d attempted to study again, books and notes strewn across the fur rug in front of the crackling fireplace, but the nervousness of your first night with your husband had you too worried to think.

You’d shooed Gertrud away as quickly as you could, after being bathed in the nicest oils and scents imaginable, softening your skin to butter. You’d fiddled with your corset, tightening it possibly too tight, and after one look in the mirror making heat rise where it definitely shouldn’t you’d throat on your robe.

You’d been pacing for an hour, or thereabouts. Word of Loki’s return to Jotunheim had spread like wildfire  within the fortress, yet  he still hadn’t come to see you. Any other time you would have been grateful but you knew that he was tormenting you; keeping you on edge until he decided to visit. You even contemplated running and hiding but you knew the risk; Loki had whispered as much to you at your wedding banquet, reminding you that if you ran away all out war would ensue. Starting with your father’s head on a spike.  You also knew that hiding would only deny the inevitable; you would eventually have to share a bed with your husband and as a wife, you were expected to bear his children. You shuddered again.

The door to the chambers opened. Your head whipped up, hands clutching at your robe tightly without thought, as you watched Loki enter.  He towered above you, easily twelve feet high maybe more, but he must have came from one of the bathrooms because his blue skin trickled with water droplets from his long raven’s wing hair, and he held a towel around his waist.  You averted your gaze to the fire, face flushing. Despite it all, he was still attractive.

Loki’s chuckle echoes throughout the chamber and the door shuts behind him.

“What? No welcome for your husband?”  He sneers. You don’t have to look to know his lips are curled into that cruel smile you’ve grown accustomed to. “And I see you’re not wearing your gift.”

You look over at him as he approaches, too scared to move. “I-I am.” You  murmur, regretting the words as they leave your mouth.

Loki sits on the rug in front of you, on leg up the other flush against the rug, the towel leaving little to the imagination. His red eyes stay on you as he smirks, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Well,” He gestures at your robe. “Let your husband see.”

Your face burns, your palms are sweaty against your robe, and you pause. You look at your feet, clearing your throat.

“a-aren’t you going to tell me about your battle?” your attempt for stalling is dismissed immediately.

“Later. Show me. Before I remove it for you.”

You nod quickly and with a shaky breath, you untie your robe and let the garment pool at your feet. You would attempt to cover yourself but you aren’t even naked, which somehow makes it worse as you feel Loki’s crimson eyes rake over you.  Your chest his flushed and heaves  in the corset, ribbon straining with each breath. Your breasts look like they might spill over at any given moment and   You feel a little light headed from the entire situation. 

“Come closer, wife.” Loki curls a finger at you and you take a few tentative steps closer until you’re stood between his knees, still staring at your feet. His finger tilts your chin up to look at him. The coolness of his finger makes you shiver but when you meet his eyes, there’s a softness you don’t expect to see. “You look beautiful.”

You don’t quite gasp, but your mouth makes a small ‘o’ in shock. You hadn’t expected something so sincere, let alone nice and it makes heat surge between your thighs.

“Thank you, Loki.” You say softly. Loki shifts his legs, eyes not leaving yours as his lips twitch upwards into a smirk. His gaze flits behind you to your notes and his smirk widens into a grin.

“Ah, my wife has been busy whilst I’ve been gone.” He comments, gaze flicking back to you.  “Come into my arms and tell me what you’re working on, smár einn.”

The foreign words tickle at your memory but you can only recognise the word one. You take another few steps forward, squeaking with surprise when Loki’s cold forearm  wraps around your waist, guiding you to straddle a large, muscular thigh. The icyness of his skin against the warmth between your thighs makes you audibly gasp, and Loki chuckles.  

“Happy I’m home?” He teases, your back meeting his torso as he cages you in around his thigh. Wisps of his hair tickle at your shoulders, and a cool kiss is placed at your nape makes you startle. “Because I’m happy to be back. I thought you wouldn’t wear this for me.”

Your blushing isn’t missed by Loki nor is the throb of your cunt on his thigh. When you don’t answer, Loki’s nose runs along your nape, making you shiver again. You’re breathing harder, your breasts bobbing with each breath, as you try to get as much air into your lungs as possible. You feel like you’re suffocating, even though Loki’s grip loose on your waist.

Loki doesn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he doesn’t care, he’s too busy being smug about your excitement for him, and continues to tease you about your corset; how you look like the perfect Jotun bride now. You mumble thanks at his teases, trying not to look at him and trying not to think of anything, but Loki start to trail icy kisses up your neck that burn your skin in their wake. You mewl quietly and shift your legs causing more friction against your cunt which in turn makes you squeeze your thighs around his gigantic thigh and you notice that the same raised lines on the tough blue skin of his arms and face are on his legs too. Loki nips gently at you shoulder, eliciting a strangled yelp from you.

“That’s it, warm me up, smăr einn.” He taunts, licking the skin he’d bitten with a luke-warm tongue. “Rutting against me like a bitch in heat, no instruction needed.”

Shame floods you at his taunt but so does a throb of excitement. Loki kisses at your neck a little more hungrily in response, earning another few short gasps from you.

“Go on,” He urges in a low, mocking tone. “You want to – I can feel that you want to.”

You whimper pathetically, rolling your hips forward for more friction. Your lip quivers and you bit down – hard – you’ll be dammed if you let him think he wins by seeing you cry. But your giant husband only sneers down at you. Your clit brushes against one of the raised ridges of his skin; electricity crashing through you as you gasp loudly, falling forward onto your palms. Your nails dig into his tough skin when you hear him chuckle, face flushing with anger as you glare in his direction. Loki only mocks you further, holding a hand up in faux-surrender.

“I’m sorry, wife.” He says smugly, watching your reaction. “Please, continue fucking yourself on my thigh.”

You fluster again, but the light-headedness you felt earlier returns. This time, though, instead of struggling to breathe you feel faint and you sway and swoon atop Loki’s thigh. Loki raises an eyebrow, vexed at your actions, before realising that you aren’t faking. Something akin to concern crosses his face and he gets to his feet, holding you close as he takes you to his large bed.

He places you down somewhat gently, your breathing laboured, the constriction from the corset aching at your ribs. You can’t seem to get enough air into your lungs at they scream at your for it. When you look at your husband you wonder briefly if he’ll leave you to die like this and when he pulls a knife from his bedside table, you think he will be the one to take your life instead. The blade is cold against the heat of your skin. Loki doesn’t rush. He trails the tip of the blade down your sternum, between your breasts, to the lacy frill of your corset.

“I can remove this if you so wish,” he says coolly, pressing the blade into your skin, but not hard enough to draw blood. “But I need to hear you beg.”

You want to kick him for the heat that pools between your legs. He knows you’re struggling to breathe with this God forsaken corset on and somehow he manages to find a way to please himself.

“Please.” You huff, but Loki clicks his tongue.

“No, no.” He chides. “Properly.”

His eyes meet yours, and you can feel the challenge emanating from them. You grit your teeth and take a small breath, trying to avoid crushing your ribs. In a small voice you beg him in the way he’s requested.

“Please, husband.” You mumble. “Please, help me.”

The ripping of the ribbons are swift. Your beautiful but bone-crushingly tight corset falls away and you inhale a deep breath that transforms into a gasp when Loki’s mouth finds your nipples and sucks them almost lovingly. Your hands root into his thick black hair, mind drawing a blank, as a cold hand tweaks the nipple he isn’t paying attention to with his mouth. You couldn’t push him away even if you wanted to, not with a giant’s strength. However at this moment in time, you didn’t want him far from you.

Your gasps and moans fill the chamber and Loki smirks up at you from where he’s latched to your breast. Peppering kisses to every inch of skin he can manage, Loki finally finds a supple piece of skin above your left breast that he deems the perfect space for a mark. A mark to show the world that you are his. Only his.

He bites down onto the skin, feeling the vessels burst between his teeth and growls at you when you tug at his hair with a pained yell. You writhe beneath him as he sucks and kisses the spot he marked, the gesture is almost sweet, loving, but you’re too busy feeling too turned on to care. His hands large hands move down to remove what’s left of your underwear, a long, cool finger teasing at your folds.

“Loki,” you say his name with no air left in your lungs, your body trembling under his touch. You’re no longer fighting the desire you feel, which stirs something within Loki’s icy chest. He looks down at you, head tilted faux-curiously, unable to resist teasing you.

“That’s the first time you’ve used my name.” He comments, watching your face contort in pleasure as his index finger breaches your dripping core. “I believe you deserve a reward for being such a good wife.”

His digit pumps you at a vicious pace that, after the assault on your sensitive breasts, sends you careening over the edge of ecstasy quickly. You coat his finger with your cum, chanting his name desperately, strangling his finger with your pussy as he helps you ride out your high. Your legs twitch as you watch him with half lidded gaze as he remove his finger from you with a smirk. He towers over you and before you can say a word, he’s peppering you with soft, cold kisses.

“My smăr einn,” he says softly. “You did well tonight. I look forward to seeing what tomorrow will bring.”

You don’t think about what he could mean, your brain is too foggy and you feel too wonderful to want to dampen the wonderful elation you’re feeling; something you haven’t felt in weeks. You don’t even complain when Loki curls over you, allowing him to wrap himself around you under the sheets of your bed. Nor do you move away when Loki kisses your head and wishes you goodnight; something he’s never done before.

As you drift to sleep, anxiety of the day and the high provided by your orgasm taking its toll, you wonder if maybe your relationship with Loki could be better than you had expected.

[maeintree]

burn | l. laufeyson

Summary: Loki grows jealous when a visiting prince from Alfheim flirts with you at a grand Asgardian feast. Pairing: prince!Loki x princess!fem!Reader Word Count: -800 Author's Note: woah two fics in two days? i'm on a roll! might start doing a series but anyhow enjoy this one too!! he's still a dick but he's a dick that wants you.

The grand hall of Asgard was alive with laughter and the rich hum of conversation. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the revelry, and the scent of spiced wine filled the air. You were at the center of it all—laughing, dancing, letting the night take you wherever it pleased.

Loki had not left your side for most of the evening, but the moment he was drawn into a dull conversation with a councilman, you found yourself in the company of another. Thor’s newest companion, a visiting prince from Alfheim, had taken it upon himself to charm you, leaning just a little too close, his hand lingering at your waist as he spoke.

Loki saw everything.

From across the hall, his sharp green eyes tracked every brush of the prince’s fingers against your arm, every teasing smirk you threw over your shoulder. He clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around the silver goblet in his hand, the metal bending slightly under his grip. The heat in his veins had nothing to do with the mead he had consumed—it was pure, unfiltered jealousy.

You knew he was watching. And you reveled in it.

You made a point to laugh a little sweeter, tilting your head just enough to let your hair brush over your bare shoulder. You weren’t stupid—Loki was the god of mischief, of lies, of deception. But when it came to you, he was possessive, raw, and incapable of hiding his emotions for long.

And so, you continued to push him, just a little more.

The moment the prince tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, it was over.

A chill spread through the hall, subtle but undeniable. The air felt heavier, charged with something dark. Then, a smooth, unmistakable voice cut through the revelry.

"I do believe you’ve overstayed your welcome, little prince."

The prince turned, startled, but you remained still, your lips curving into a knowing smirk as Loki stepped forward. He was calm—too calm. A predator circling its prey.

The prince chuckled, feigning ignorance. "Ah, Prince Loki. We were merely talking. Your lady is quite—"

Loki didn’t let him finish. "My lady knows when she is playing a dangerous game." His voice was a silk-covered blade, cutting through the tension like a sharpened dagger. His fingers wrapped around your wrist—not harsh, not painful, but firm. "And you, prince, should know when you are trespassing."

The prince hesitated, sensing the warning beneath Loki’s words. With a stiff nod, he backed away, blending into the crowd. The moment he was gone, Loki turned his full attention to you.

Loki’s jaw clenched, and in one swift motion, he pulled you against him, your bodies nearly flush. The heat of him was undeniable, seeping through the thin fabric of your gown as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against the bare skin of your wrist.

"Darling, do not test me," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You think I do not know when you are playing with fire?" His fingers trailed up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "You forget—I am fire."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "Perhaps I wanted to see just how hot the flames could get."

Loki’s smirk was wicked, his fingers grazing along the curve of your neck before tilting your chin up. "Then allow me to remind you, little minx," he whispered, his lips barely brushing yours, "that when you play with fire... you always get burned."

His lips hovered just out of reach, his fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin of your throat before trailing lower, just above the neckline of your dress. His touch was maddening, sending a shiver down your spine. The tension between you was suffocating, an invisible pull drawing you closer, your breaths mingling as his grip tightened just slightly at your waist.

"Tell me, did you enjoy your little game? Watching me seethe while you let another man put his hands on you?" His voice was nothing but a hushed growl, his fingers now tracing the delicate line of your collarbone. "Or were you simply begging for me to remind you of whom you belong to?"

You swallowed, your pulse betraying you as his fingers skimmed lower, pausing just before dipping further. Loki saw the effect he had on you—he relished it.

Just as you thought he would give in, he smirked, pulling away completely, leaving you breathless and wanting.

"Come, dearest," he purred, turning towards the exit without looking back. "Unless, of course, you prefer to stay and entertain another suitor."

His words were a challenge, a dare. But you knew the moment you followed him, the real game would begin.

And this time, Loki intended to win.

comments, reposts, and likes are appreciated!

[peachyjinx]

Sunday Morning

Relationship: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 2700

Summary: You and Loki finally have some time to yourselves

Warnings: 18+! Smut! Domestic quickie, lots of praise kink, biting, bruising, possessive Loki, affectionate yet intense fucking

A sliver of warm sun peers between the curtains as you stir awake. You blink your eyes, coming out of your sleep, and take in the comfort of Loki’s expensive bed sheets, letting out a sigh.

Your eyes fall on your lover sleeping peacefully next to you. Normally he was awake before you, but last night was especially tiring for him. You smile as you think about how ravenous he was for you last night, and what an insatiable lover he is. You feel warmth of affection in your chest, and pride that he chooses to be with you. 

The two of you don’t get many moments together alone. A lot of his time he is off world doing God knows what, or you were on missions all over the world with the Avengers. You never knew how long you’d have together before one of you was called away for duty. But miraculously, you were both in New York on a weekend, not having to save anyone. The two of you had a moment of peace to just be together. So naturally, you fucked like rabbits all night long. 

You roll out of bed, the soreness in between your legs becoming more apparent as you make your way to the luxurious bathroom. A low grumble rolls through your stomach, and you realize you’re very hungry. You step into the large shower, turning on the water with a contented sigh.

You think about how nice it is to be at Loki’s apartment as the hot water with perfect pressure pours down your back. Just to exist in his rich world compared to your small apartment at Stark Tower is like a vacation. It feels almost domestic. You don’t know how long you have before you are called back to duty, but you know you want to enjoy every moment you have with Loki. 

The smells of the exotic Asgardian soaps fill the air as you shower. You love using Loki's shampoo, then you smell like him all day- warm spices, hints of pine, and that one scent that you can never quite identify.

Another, angrier stomach growl reminds you your body needs food ASAP. 

You remember the great bakery a block away, and get excited as you increase your speed lathering your body. They have these incredible red pepper bagels that are a favorite in the neighborhood, and you resign yourself to leave immediately after your shower, and share this breakfast experience with Loki when he wakes up.

As you dry yourself, you notice your reflection in the mirror. Small bruises are beginning to form on your hips and arms from where Loki was holding you down last night. You feel a wave of warmth to your core, remembering the night before, and a proud smile spreads across your lips. He did not hold back last night, and you both loved it. 

 You make your way out of his bathroom quietly, so as not to wake him. Your eyes peer over to see him still serenely passed out. What was he doing last week while he was gone? You’ll have to ask him when you get back. 

You quickly dress and scurry out of the room, in search of your purse. His apartment is ridiculously large- he has the entire top floor of the beautiful pre-war building. Large floor to ceiling windows give you a gorgeous view from out of the living space. The building is old, and Loki has changed his surroundings to his liking. It feels like a mix between a palace in Asgard (you assume), and an old mansion in New York.

You chuckle to yourself as you enter the kitchen, remembering you dropped your purse there when Loki picked you up and carried you to his bedroom bridal style. The kitchen was the one room that remained the most untouched. Maybe because Loki wasn’t a cook, and he was used to others making his food. And he could just magically create his meals, which must be nice. 

As your hands grab your purse carelessly thrown onto the counter, a voice calls from behind you, making you yelp in surprise.

“And where do you think you’re going?,” Loki asks while his arms cage you against the counter from behind. He nuzzles his nose in your hair, letting out a low hum.

“Well, I was going to sneak out and get us breakfast. There’s this little bakery and they have the most amazing…”, Loki pushes his body flat against yours, and you feel his hardness against your ass through his silk pajama bottoms. 

Loki begins to place gentle kisses on your neck, making you moan quietly as a shiver runs down your spine. You can never resist him, and he knows it. 

“Nooo Loki, I’ve gotta leave early or the good bagels will sell out..” you cooed as your hips thrust backwards against his hard length. His hands are now wandering up your sides, and gently cupping your breasts. A wave of arousal washes over your body, and your knees are beginning to feel weak. 

"Well I’ve got to sink my cock into that beautiful cunt. And then you can procure all the baked goods you desire", he huskily murmurs in your ear. You let out a breathy whine as you feel yourself getting wetter with need, despite the tenderness in your core. 

“I’m still a bit sore from last night….”. You would definitely let him have his way, but your body is not cooperating. 

“Oh? Was my cock too much for your tiny mortal body? Let me help with that,” He slowly reaches his large hand to your cunt, and you feel a warmth spread over it. The discomfort is gone, and all that’s left is your aching need for him again. Are you even wetter than before? Maybe it was just the pain preventing you from realizing how turned on you already are. You feel the slick soaking your panties and you feel your pulse quicken through your body. 

“That’s convenient,” you giggle, tossing your purse to the side of the smooth quartz countertop. 

“I want to make sure my lover is comfortable….most of the time,” he nips at your neck, making you gasp. His hands are beginning to gently pull your shorts off, and you try in vain to resist him again. But you know you don’t have the strength to not bend to his will at a moment’s notice. 

“Seriously, Loki, I have to go, the bakery opened already and the line is probably around the corner,” you attempt to push yourself away from the counter, but Loki grabs your hips and spins you to look at him. 

Your body is flush with his, and you try to give Loki a serious look while ignoring his naked chest and throbbing cock pressed up against your stomach. You know you’re not fooling him, with the way your body moves against his, your hips betraying you by gently bucking into his thigh. 

He looks beautiful in the morning light, his hair gently tossed from the wild night the two of you had. His eyes look so bright blue, and you find yourself mesmerized because there’s something more this morning. Adoration, affection. It’s not just the pent up lust from two lovers last night. You feel your cheeks burn under his intense stare and you try to look away. He gently reaches his hand towards your chin, holding it in place so his piercing gaze meets yours. 

“I will let you go, but first I need to come inside of that delectable cunt”, Loki purrs with a sinful grin, showing his perfect teeth. 

His head moves downward, and he takes a sharp inhale of your chest while digging his hands into your hips. You feel the hard countertop press into your backside as he presses against you harder, pinning you with his strength.

“Right here will suffice,” a wave of cool rushes around your hips and legs, revealing yourself to be totally naked from the waist down. 

Before you can protest, he lifts you onto the countertop. It’s over, and you know it- you give in and wrap your arms around his neck and bury your fingers into his soft black hair while he skims his nose on the soft curve of your neck.

“You’re insatiable,” you let out a deep groan as Loki runs his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back gently so he can continue to nibble and suck your neck.

“Only for you Darling”, Loki purrs as he nips at your ear. He takes a sharp inhale of your hair, groaning as he pulls his swollen cock out of its confinement and lines himself up at your entrance.  

“I love when you smell like me,” a guttural moan escapes his lips as his cock pushes into you slowly, easily. He pushes into the hilt, as deep as he can bury himself inside of you, and you both let out a loud gasp. Loki’s head falls backwards, exposing his strong neck, showing the veins under his porcelain skin.  He looks so beautiful when he’s fucking you. 

Your hips shift, and your legs wrap around his strong hips, sinking his cock in deep, the angle making you feel completely full. You whine at how good it makes you feel, you never want this to end. He fits you perfectly, like the two of you were made for each other. 

"I fucked you for hours last night and yet I still need you. Your body calls to me like a siren song. I’m so proud of you, you took me so well,” he commends you with a strained voice as he tries to maintain a slow pace. 

Loki thrusts slowly and deliberately as he looks back down at you with eyes filled with possessive desire, his hair falling around his face. He leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue gently, slowly, exploring your mouth. You return his kiss with intensity, tasting as much of him as you can. 

Your hands claw at his back, feeling the strong muscles move as he holds your legs up and pistons inside of you. You can feel the sweat building between the two of you as your chests touch, the slick building from the heat of your bodies. 

“Oh Darling, I could stay in this beautiful cunt forever,” Loki groans as he tightly grips your hips while his hips snap into you, increasingly harder. He’s trying to savor the moment, but you know he's desperate to cum inside you. 

His compliments intensify your desire for him, to please him, and you can’t get enough of it as you whine under his powerful thrusts.His cock hits that perfect spot deep inside, as he always does. Pressure is building in your core, and you feel your thighs getting sore from the position. He’s been fucking you nonstop since you got here last night, and your body is weak but you just can’t stop- he’s perfectly intoxicating, like a drug you can’t get enough of. You moan loudly at a particularly hard pound of his hips, a lusty haze settling in around you in the atmosphere. 

Loki leans his head to your shoulder and begins to bite more, tasting the area afterwards. You hiss as Loki bites down harder on your shoulder, nearly breaking the skin. Your pussy clenches around him and he gives a dark chuckle.

“You love that, don’t you pet? When I’m rough with you. And you’re so good for me, always pliable and ready. Keep being good for me,” Loki’s pace increases as his possessiveness stirs him on, driving you both wild with desire. 

You feel yourself getting closer to climax as Loki continues to talk, telling you how much he wants you and reminding you who you belong to. He holds your body tight to his, as he begins to pound harder into you. 

“Mmmm you need my marks so that every person whose eyes cast over this perfect body knows that you belong to me,” he bites harder onto your neck and you let out a squeal. He is deliberately trying to bruise you now, while he ruts into you harder and faster at a frenzied pace.

The sounds of your passion echo off of the hard surfaces around you, his kitchen filled with your whines, slapping of wet skin, and Loki's moans and grunts and lurid words sending you over the edge. 

“Loki..oh God..”, you cry, feeling the heat wave all over your body. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly as his throbbing cock massages you deep inside, the angle making it overwhelming, you can’t hold back anymore.  

“Good. Fucking. Girl.”, Loki enunciates each word with a rough thrust, making your toes curl. 

“Look at me, I want to watch you while you come on my cock,” he growls, grabbing your chin to force you to look into his commanding eyes. 

As if your body is at his command, you come, watching him watch you with his pupils blown wide. You grasp at his shoulders and close your eyes tightly as you tumble over the precipice, moaning in a guttural tone you hadn’t heard before. You whine and writhe on him, and Loki bucks erratically into you, losing his rhythm as his firm grip on your hip and back tighten and he desperately seeks his climax.

"You look so beautiful when you come undone on my cock. All mine,” he spits out in a strangled voice, his face contorted in intense pleasure.  Loki plunges his aching length into you as deep as he can, his last powerful thrust sending him over the edge. He shouts as he comes deep inside you, his whole body shuddering as the electricity courses through his veins, his hips still as he empties his seed inside you. 

You both pant and he gasps for air, as he begins to gently pump himself inside of you again, sliding over your overstimulated g spot. You feel yourself tighten around his cock as it massages you, the pressure building again. The sight of Loki coming, and the heightened arousal between the two of you is too much to bear. 

“Oh my….Loki…,” you choke out, your nerves on fire as your cunt aches for him, for more release. 

Loki flashes you a charming grin and continues to slowly roll his hips and sighing, relishing in your cunt still tightened around him. 

“That’s it, my good girl. Give me one more,” he leans forward and whispers huskily in your ear. Your body heats up as you cry out, shockwaves spreading throughout your body while you come again. 

You choke and gasp for air, every cell of your body on fire for Loki. Your dripping cunt aches from overstimulation, your thighs sore from the tension. Loki removes his cock from you, tucking it back into his silk pajama bottoms. 

Loki caresses your nose with his while you both pant quietly, while he rubs your back gently. It feels amazing, his large hands taking such good care of you as always.  

"I love you Loki," you huff quietly and look into his beautiful eyes, which are softened by angled brows and sparkling with affection in the afterglow. 

"I love you, too," he kisses you sweetly on your cheek. He helps you off of the countertop, and holds onto you as you hobble and stretch your legs. 

"Now, hurry up! I want to try these "bagels" you've been speaking of” he raises his eyebrows and grins at you while he waves his hand, your clothes appearing back on your body. 

“I think I’m ready for a nap,” you tease him back as you glance over your outfit. 

“Oh, but you were a woman on a mission, and now I’m hungry as well. You can’t deny me the pleasure of one of your favorite breakfast delights!,” he shakes his head as he looks over your body, waving his hand again over your clothing. You look down and see that your shirt is now ripped, revealing the red marks and bruises that are blossoming on the top of your skin. 

"Mmmm. That's better,"  Loki smiles proudly to himself as he turns and walks towards his favorite chair by the window, conjuring a book in his hand. 

You roll your eyes and grab your purse, feeling sore but thoroughly sated and loved as you head out the door. 

------

Peachyjinx Masterlist

[talonabraxas]

Odin Riding Sleipnir Talon Abraxas

Sleipnir is the eight-legged horse ridden primarily by the god Odin in Norse mythology. He is the son of the god Loki (in the form of a mare) and the stallion Svadilfari who belonged to the jötunn that built the walls of Asgard. In Iceland, the glacial canyon Ásbyrgi is known as Sleipnir’s Footprint in the horse’s honor.

According to legend, the great horse, carrying Odin, rode through this area and one of his hooves landed amidst a forest, creating the canyon. This story is typical of tales concerning Sleipnir, which often depict him as immensely large, carrying Odin through the realms where some evidence of their passage is left behind. In other stories, he seems only slightly bigger than an average horse, only with eight legs.

Sleipnir is always depicted as incredibly swift and the "best of all horses", symbolized by his eight legs that carry a rider anywhere in the nine realms of Norse cosmology in record time. Since he was born of two supernatural entities, he is possessed of the power to move easily between realms, including the realm of the dead, leading to his name (pronounced Slayp-near), which means "the sliding one".

Although he is almost always ridden by Odin, in the story of the death of the god Baldr, he is ridden to the realm of Hel in the afterlife by Baldr’s brother Hermóðr. Sleipnir is able to easily jump the high fence around Hel and then bring Hermóðr safely back to the gods at Asgard. The great horse also features in the tale of Odin’s race with the giant Hrungnir who is killed by Thor when he threatens the Asgardians.

Sleipnir’s final ride is to carry Odin to the battlefield of Vigrid at Ragnarök, the Twilight of the Gods. In the final battle between the forces of chaos that include Loki and Sleipnir’s half-siblings Fenrir, Jörmungandr, and Hel – among others – on the side of chaos, most of the Norse gods are killed, including Odin and his faithful horse. Sleipnir is then thought to carry Odin to the afterlife in keeping with the traditional understanding of the horse a liminal being in Norse mythology.

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Gentlemen's Bond [Female.Reader x Loki/Bucky/Steve]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Set a time after A Gentlemen's Agreement, you and Loki decide to open up your bedroom. And who better to join you? Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Foursome. Smut. FMMM. Includes buttsmut. Cumplay. Consent is sexy. Dirty talk. (w/c 3.7k)

“Make no mistake gentlemen, she is mine,” Loki uttered. The words tripped menacingly from his tongue. He placed a languishing kiss on the curve of your neck to make his point, a soft whimper from your lips making him smirk against the crescent. The men in front of you groaned in unison.

You knelt in front of him on the bed. His bed. The only place your fantasies shall be fulfilled. He had been emphatic about that. “You are but guests here,” he murmured in the loaded, sensual voice usually reserved for when you were alone. The god knelt behind you, upright on his knees. The rippled carving of his firm stomach pressed against your shoulder-blades as he massaged your breasts. Calloused thumb-tips tugged achingly slowly at hard nipples. You whimpered as his hands slid down your waist, steadying one against your hip while the other made lazy circles on your clit. “Rentals, if you will,” he sniffed. At the barb, Rogers and Barnes stiffened. Their tops had been stripped, but the buckles of their belts remained politely fastened. Bucky shuffled, popping his hip with his thumbs tucked inside the waist of his jeans. You saw the flash of deeply muscled lines grooves come into view. Saliva welled in your mouth. Loki chuckled. “I meant no offence,” he purred, dipping his chin to nuzzle your collarbone. “But gentlemen, if our latest bond and its stipulations are to be upheld, then we must be crystal clear on who makes the rules.” Your eyes rose from the bulge of Loki’s flexing forearm as he stroked possessively between your legs, only his thumb visible grazing your mound. They slid from Bucky to Steve, the unmistakeable hunger in their stares making you dizzy. Heavy breaths made their chests rise and fall, broad shoulders shifting as each tried to make themselves bigger. More enticing. Like beasts, you thought with a smile. Ready to mate. “Me,” you said suddenly, biting your lip. Loki growled under his breath in approval. “I make the rules,” you finished.

“Yes, my darling” Loki said, letting his dark gaze wander upwards on the two super-soldiers straining against their trousers, waiting to be unleashed. “You do.” His fingertips cupped against your clit, pushing up. You hissed with pleasure as Steve groaned a long, shaking sigh. “Run through the rules again, I jus’ wanna...jus’ wanna be sure,” he grunted, fingers now drawn irrevocably to the polished sheen of his buckle.

“It is quite simple,” Loki breathed, the warmth of his skin fading as he drew up behind you. His knees sank into the mattress on either side of your hips. Your lover’s fingers massaged your neck, your eyelids fluttering closed on the sight of the soldiers looking sheepish as they fumbled with their heavy buckles. Loki’s voice was hard. Commanding. Fucking hot.

“She and I are bound. She is mine, as I am hers. She is under my protection. This is an invitation. An interlude, do not think it more,” he announced regally, squeezing your shoulders. He might be naked, but from the unwavering strength of his words he may as well have been in full Asgardian battle armour. The men in front of you nodded reverently. You could see the pulse points in their necks thumping. Beneath the tight material of their cotton slacks and dark jeans, snaking muscle stretched thick and tight against their hips. So hard. They were so fucking hard. Loki continued, as their stares smouldered. “If she tells you to stop, and you do not immediately desist?” he said, warning licking at the timbre of his voice like flame. “Before you can finish the next thrust, lick, or wander of an unwelcome hand, you will feel the edge of my dagger slice across your throat. Understood?”

You watched the men cast a glance towards one another, before they gave a nod of solidarity. “Still fair,” Bucky husked, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them to the corner in a crumpled heap. Steve was already folding his, turning to place them neatly on the wing-back chair by the door. “Whatever the lady wants, and nothing more, as agreed in the bond,” the blonde placated as he faced you and Loki with a lowering of his chin. You could feel the god bristle with power behind you. “We just really wanna fuck you babe,” Bucky growled with a smile, his chin tucked to his chest. “Respectfully,” Steve added, throwing his friend a scowl as the winter soldier’s jaw bobbed playfully side to side in mock scepticism. You smirked, feeling Loki lower to your ear. “You’re sure?” he murmured. The long tendrils of his hair wound through your fingers as you tilted your chin to face him. “Yes. But it’s always you. You know that, right?” The words filled the tiny space between your lips before Loki pressed his mouth to yours. His furiously hard cock was swollen snug against your spine. “Always,” he moaned quietly into your mouth. In slow tandem, you swung your gazes to meet the two sets of blue eyes already drunk with lust at the foot of the bed. “May we?” Steve said softly, gesturing to the empty side of mattress on your left with an arch of an eyebrow. You nodded, feeling the tingle of Loki’s breath on your cheek as his hands slid down your biceps. “Positions, gentlemen” he purred formally, “as discussed.” You had left the arrangements of the details of this debauched affair to your lover, a role that he was more than happy to fill. Once again, the idea of the three of them sharing conspiratorial conversations in the locker rooms filled your mind. It was foreplay. You squirmed on the bed, thighs splayed open as the gusset of your panties dragged wet. Or did they book a meeting room, you thought with a thrill.

The mattress sagged on either side, Steve and Bucky descending. Their stares crawled covetously over your curves as Loki loomed above like an archangel; sculpted from marble by Michelangelo himself. The brunette soldier leant forward, his metal palm spread against the sheets as his parted lips met yours. You sighed into his touch, running your fingers over his temple and combing back the long strands while his tongue danced in your mouth. He didn't taste like whisky this time, you noticed. The digits ran down his neck, feeling every tense of the ferocious muscle hiding beneath his skin. Loki’s cupped fingers massaged your clit, waves of pleasure building while his low, ragged breaths ghosted your ear.

Your fingers grazed down Bucky’s back, feeling raised trails and valleys of scar tissue. Bucky shivered, breaking from your lips. A strand of saliva hung between you before you turned, immediately meeting the mouth of the blonde soldier waiting impatiently to your right. The taste of his teammate was still strong on your tongue as you kissed him in a rising waft of ginger from his skin, melting together with your back still pressed to Loki’s chest.

Suddenly Loki pulled you back, letting Barnes slip your calves from beneath you. The brunette pushed your knees apart, thighs falling open. “Fuck, girl” he rasped, running a hand through messy, curtained hair with a sigh, “that’s fuckin’ pretty.” Your head lay against Loki’s lap, his violently hard cock pressed against your ear. You could feel the blood thumping through his veins, every pump throbbing against the angle of your jaw. The god lowered a lingering kiss to your lips, his tongue melting inside your mouth while Bucky’s began to run flat licks against your little cunt. Your pretty cunt. The moans from his throat were different from those you were accustomed to from Loki. Half-formed words lingered on heavy breaths that retained the thick accent slopping against his worship. You moaned like a whore as another set of lips fastened to a nipple, soft fingers toying and pinching the other. Your eyelids fluttered open, the sight of a muss of blonde hair latched to your chest while a chestnut crown rose between your splayed legs. It felt strange. Naughty. And it felt fucking good. Bucky’s thumbs dug into your hips, a shock of metal making you buck into him as cool steel became warmth. Loki’s voice bubbled in the air like liquid silver, the sound making it all feel like a lucid dream. “That’s my girl. Let them service you, pleasure you,” it said slowly. Your fingers wound in the short strands of Steve’s hair, the other grasping a tuft of Bucky’s, urging him deeper. They moaned in unison against your heated skin. The sound was transcendent. “Let them worship you, as I do,” Loki hummed as he watched in rapture, cock twitching against your cheek. “Just for tonight.” The cacophony of sighs dashed against your body like waves on rocks, wearing away any insecurities you ever had with each muted groan of pleasure. The coil winding inside you began to tremble and tighten. Your eyes refocused to Loki’s jaw set above your widening stare. His lips were parted, his whole body smouldering with arousal. Eyes fixed on you, writhing beneath him under the soldiers’ charms. “L-Loki, I’m gonna co-” you panted, seeking his approval in a moment of doubt. His knuckles trailed over the lines of your jaw, over the tight skin as the veins in your neck strained. Your head pressed heavy against his thighs, his fingers steadying beneath your chin as he held you in place. And still, his darkened eyes were fixed on you. “Come for them, sweet. Let them hear how beautiful you sound as you tumble over the edge,” he cooed in sultry tones, loud enough for the men to hear. Bucky suckled your clit with a wet growl, alternating wide licks that started deep in your core to the tip. The captain’s fingers tightened around your nipple, his tongue a soothing balm against the pulling sucks on the other. And with a shudder, you came. Your thighs tightened against Barnes’ head, a hand clawing down Steve’s muscled back as you shook the room with your cries of each of their names. A gush of arousal flooded the winter soldier’s outstretched tongue.

“Lie down, our good girl.” The command made chills run over your skin like the breeze from a fan. You felt Loki shift behind you, his huge frame filling your blurred vision as Steve and Bucky parted like the sea. He was so fucking beautiful, and he was all yours. Completely un-phased. The winter soldier pulled your ankles, sliding your ass to rest on the bed’s edge. Loki gracefully slotted himself crouched between your wet thighs, as you mewled his name. He chuckled, dragging his achingly turgid cock tight in his fist against your slit. “Are you happy?” he murmured solemnly. You nodded with a sex-drunk smile. “Then, gentleman,” Loki purred, casting a knowing glance to each side in turn, “positions.” The head of the god’s cock pressed inside your channel, dipping in and out as you arched up into him. Begging for more. Loki tutted playfully. He was crouching between your spread legs, hovering. “Patience, darling. We must wait for our guest.” On cue, you felt something cool and thick slather between your cheeks. Your hips bucked upwards, caught by Loki’s waiting palms. Relax, his eyes said. And so you did. A solitary ragged moan of anticipation dragged the air behind Loki’s triangular chest. Bucky. You looked up, Steve’s hardened features coming into view. The angles of his cheekbones had sharpened, pupils blown wide. He lowered, kissing you upside down as Barnes fingers played with your ass. Suddenly you felt something wide and hot nudge against your back entrance, testing you. Teasing you. “Yes,” you groaned in between Steve’s ravenous kisses, “fuck-k, yes Buck.” With a guttural moan, he edged inside; stilling as your fingers wrapped around Loki’s forearms. “More,” you gasped, pulling. Bucky obliged. Inch by inch, he filled you until his hips hit the curve of your cheeks with a gentle slap.

For a few moments, there was silence.

Each of the men held their breath, three sets of smouldering eyes drinking in the sight of the woman strewn in ecstasy beneath them. Their woman. If just for one night. “Loki, please,” you whined, thrusting up to catch his cock. All you wanted was to be filled and fucked and filled and fucked again. Loki chuckled, watching as your eyes lowered between your legs at the sight of him sinking slowly inside. The vein that had pulsed against your cheek was hard and thick along his shaft as it disappeared. Inch by goddam inch. The noise that strangled from your throat was inhuman. How appropriate, you mused; before your whole body was set alight with pleasure. Loki rocked in and out your slit, the gentle motion of his ass clenching and unclenching making your eyes roll back. How, you wondered in amazement, as Steve’s tongue massaged your own, his unfettered moans filling your throat; how is this actually happening?

The captain had taken over control of your breasts, his dexterous fingers flipping and pinching your nipples. Each wave was timed, the slow gyration of Loki and Barnes making your legs tremble. Loki slipped his forearms under your knees, hoisting you higher, his cock delving deeper. Bucky gasped gruffly, his girth sinking deeper in your ass. “H-holy shit, man” he stuttered, metal fingers steadying on Loki’s shoulder, “Shit, b-baby...you feel so fuckin’ good I swear to god.” That accent was syrup, dripping from his parted lips as he fucked you slowly. Carefully. As if you might break. And hell, maybe you would. Another climax blossomed like fire on a struck match, taking you surprise as you clenched around the furious lust filling you.

You couldn’t recall whose name you cried. Tonight, it didn’t matter. The men groaned like farmyard beasts, Bucky’s hips beginning to shudder and jolt against soft curves of flesh. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, the slap of his balls against your skin growing louder. Loki slowed the gyration of his hips, the tip of his manhood massaging your g-spot as Barnes roared behind him.

The soldier’s other hand flew to Loki’s shoulder, both squeezing in painful passion. The dark god's head fell back with a hiss as he filled you to the hilt, hair strewn in messy tendrils across his damp forehead while Bucky came behind him with a shuddering litter of curses. Every buck of your hips made sure he sank deeper, rolling with each dying syllable. Loki tilted forward as the brunette’s heavy breaths filled the air. His forehead pressed between your ringmaster's shoulder-blades, hands sliding reluctantly from the thick ropes of muscle on which they rested. “Fuck,” was all James Barnes could muster, as his cock slid gently from your ass. Loki didn’t slow his gyration as there was a changing of the guard behind your head.

Your prince's moans slipped through gritted teeth, half lidded eyes observing every searching twitch of your hands. Every crease in your forehead. Every gasp of his name.

A light sting clapped your ass, immediately massaging deep in the cheeks. You cried out, back leaving the mattress. “Careful!” Loki spat, throwing a dangerous glance over his shoulder. Out the corner of your eye, you lovingly noted the flash of emerald seidr melt from his palm. “Sorry,” Steve murmured, rubbing the surely pinked skin in apology. You squirmed with pleasure, feeling the raw stubble from Bucky’s jaw scratch over your cheek as Loki moved in shallow, pulsing thrusts. The winter soldier pressed your breasts together, beginning to palm them in circles as Steve’s cock nudged against your back entrance, still slippery with cum. A finger ran around the pucker, collecting the neglected white ropes before sucking it clean. The sound he made was filth as he edged inside, a slurping squelch of seed squeezing around his girth making his knees buckle. His fingertips sank into your flesh, pulling you onto him again and again. Carefully. Slowly. “Steve...J-James...Loki,” you mewled, making the men chuckle in unison. You could feel orgasm bubbling in your centre, wound tight and bursting with adrenaline and cum and cock. Bucky lowered his mouth to yours, sweat from his cheeks moistening your own. “You sound real fuckin’ cute when you say our names babe,” Bucky growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Y-yeah. Hell-yeah,” Steve gasped through staggered breaths; every pump of his hips into your ass making his eyes roll back. His face was flushed with desire, tongue darting against his bottom lip as he desperately fought to contain what you were sure were the worst curses he would ever utter. Every muscle in your body tightened as you came, the feral roars from Loki and Steve sheathed inside you making you shudder as Bucky held your shoulders fast to the bed. Stars blossomed beneath your eyelids, the erotic music of their adoration making your head spin. Steve came first, pulling your ass flush to his hips as he tumbled into ecstasy with a strangled cry of your name. He was shaking, sweaty palms not knowing where to steady himself before he slumped against Loki’s back. On cue, Loki raised your calves higher, his gentle thrusts turning with a glint in his eye. They narrowed, smouldering down at you with utter devotion as another clench of his ass sent him to the hilt. “My perfect little fox,” he grunted, voice thick with desire, dripping like wax. “End me.” Your fingers gripped the bedsheets as you felt Steve slip from your ass, hearing him stumble against the wall. Clenching around Loki’s cock, you bucked up into him with all the force you could muster. Wrung dry, spent, utterly fucked out – there was always more. For him, there was always more. Loki’s hands gripped your wrists, pushing your hands upwards against Bucky’s chest as his face buried in the sweaty crescent of your neck. He came hard, a violent juddering of his hips accompanying silence before his wet, thunderous exhale of pleasure. His breaths were heavy as he sat up, running a hand through his hair with a grin. As perfect as he ever was, but with a pink tinge in his cheeks. He stood, walking over the bed with a smile as he watched you writhe. Empty and missing them.

“Wait man, didn’t you blow?” Bucky said sceptically. He motioned to the thick cock still proudly bobbing between Loki’s thighs with no sign of abatement. The god chucked, throwing you a knowing smirk. You cleared your throat, still panting. “He’s different-” you mumbled, running your eyes hungrily down your full-time lover’s achingly hot body and back to his face. “Which is a good thing too, since this one is never sated,” Loki purred, as the men switched positions again. “Well goddam,” Bucky muttered, impressed. Your hand grasped out to thin air, searching for someone, anyone, to fill it. On cue, Bucky spread his thighs beside you, your fingers wrapping gratefully around his semi. Steve’s face scrunched, any jealousy washed away with a proceeding squeeze of his fist around his spent manhood. The final milk dripped against your ass. "Ya done big guy?" Bucky teased, a smile tugging his dimples as the captain's resolve settled back on his face. "Nossir," Steve growled, licking his lips as determined eyes roamed up your legs. In a flash, he began working wet kisses up your calves, your thighs, grunts filling the air once again. Bucky's manhood was growing tentatively in your loose fist, wanking him slowly as Loki's thighs settled on either side of your head.

“Jeez man, she tastes so good,” Steve moaned muffled against your slit. Bucky groaned in appreciation while your hand slipped up and down his length. The pace was erratic, squeezing hard and jolting with every circle of Rogers eager tongue around your clit.

“I think that might be me, your tasting,” Loki hummed, knuckles white as he stroked himself slowly above your head. You could see every straining vein on his shaft from below, the wet head tapping tantalisingly on your cheek, on your lips with every squeeze of his hand. Conducting the men like a choir. Just out of reach. “Both of you?" Steve slurred happily to himself, lost in the elixir of arousal between your legs. Fingers worked through Steve’s hair, looping back to clutch more as every messy kiss against your pussy sent you higher. Your back arched, tongue stretching upwards. You managed to lap the smooth, hot tip of Loki’s cock while he watched Rogers busy himself between your open thighs. His hand never ceased pleasuring himself, smouldering with primal need as mischievous glint you hadn’t seen before sparked in his eyes.

“Fuck,” Loki groaned, letting your lips wrap loosely around the leaking head. You sucked against his foreskin, pulling it gently between your lips. “Say his name, darling” Loki teased, voice like sea foam melting into sand, “tell the captain how good he’s making you feel. He’ll like that.” You moaned Steve’s name, filthy praise like a chant as your hips rocked against his mouth. The blonde’s fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your thighs, enthusiastic pants and the crease in his brow betraying his basest desires. Praise kink, you thought smugly; before stars burst again beneath your closed eyelids. Feeling the brush of Loki’s cock against your cheek beneath the flurry of his fist, you came with a rush of garbled curses. Sweetness flooded against the captain’s tongue as he trailed languishing licks, orgasm fading like breath on a mirror. Loki’s stomach muscles clenched, a roar filling the room as he came over your face. Hot splatter coated your lips, rolling in slow, thick trails of ambrosia over your chin, your jaw, down the curve of your neck. Bucky whined. The mattress dipped as Steve’s palms edged forwards, his body rising like goliath between your shaking legs. His mouth glistened with sex and sweat, eyes fierce and dark as hell. That stare traced every decadent rivulet of Loki’s mess before his gaze rose to its owner. “Do it,” Loki commanded slowly, smiling as he continued to stroke himself. A final drop squeezed out, landing with a filthy splat on your chin. Steve shivered, lowering his sweat damp face your shoulder. He licked upwards, growing braver as he followed the trail of Loki’s cum with dirty groans that shook through your chest. Eventually, Steve’s mouth covered yours, alternating between claiming your kiss and licking the remnants of god-seed from your cupids bow. His tongue tasted like Loki. The sensation made you clench around air. “Good boy,” Loki hummed, running his fingers through Steve’s hair as he buried himself in your neck. There was a pause, the scent of animalism thick in the air. “But now, gentlemen, it is time for you to depart.” Steve looked up with wide eyes. You heard Bucky grunt in annoyance. “You know the rules, gentlemen,” Loki continued. You could hear the smirk in his voice. “I think the lady has taken what she needs, don’t you?” The words registered in a haze. You nodded, smiling happily as your head lay nestled between the god’s comforting thighs. “Thanks boys,” you mumbled, slurred while you waved a hand that fell immediately back to the bed. The mattress shifted as bodies rose. You heard the low clunk of metal and shifting of fabric dragging against body hair as deft, familiar fingertips danced up your thigh. A tender kiss was placed on the centre of your mound as the door clicked shut. Alone again. “Happy Anniversary,” Loki breathed, seductive and hot against the tremble. Your let out a spent sigh, lost in the gentle motion of his soft kisses and pretty words. Outside, you could hear the slap of palms on shoulders as the soldiers left in measured silence. “It’s always you, Loki,” you purred again, blissfully winding fingers through his damp curls as he kissed closer to your centre. With a tingle of his magic, you felt yourself cleansed, the sex and sweat of the others dissipated. You craned down with difficulty, seeing feigned confusion etched across his forehead. “Well, yes” he purred, widening your legs with a sultry wink. “Which is why we’ve saved the best for last.”

Tags (contd in comments) @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[estrellacercadelvolcan]

Elaine's December Reading List (Christmas/Winter/New Year)

So, in the last few days, I started reading Christmas and Winter Fics. Those are absolutely amazing, and I'm at awe at the talent these authors possess. I had a lot of fun reading the stories, and because of this, I started making this "Christmas/Winter/New Year reading list". On the one hand, I wanted to thank the writers and give back some love. On the other hand, I hope that other people will see this list and come to love the Fics and authors as much as I do. (Besides that, through this list, I won't ever lose the stories ever again🤭)

I'm not sure if anyone will see this list, but just in case:

Please note that these stories aren't mine! Credits go to all these lovely authors. If anyone should see this and read the Fics, please show them some love.

The Fics are separated according to the different characters (Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Ransom Drysdale, Lloyd Hansen & Logan Howlett). Besides that, I listed the title and author. (The word count, genre indicator and my own thoughts are also sometimes listed.)

In the last few days I started the logging and commenting on the Fics, but due to life I didn't have the time yet to do this for every FIC on this list, but I'm still planning on doing this. Please be patient with me.

Be assured that I LOVE every single one of these amazing stories. Thank you to all the authors for writing and sharing them with us!♥️

Happy reading! ❤️

Bucky Barnes

Midnights kisses & Confetti Thieves @angrythingstarlight

Mafia!Bucky x reader | 1.5K | fluff, implied smut

A Soldier's Second Chance @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Bucky Barnes x Reader | 5 parts | Bucky deserves to be happy & all the Love ❤️

It's Cold Outside @navybrat817

Bucky Barnesx x F. Reader | over 700 | slight Angst | So beautiful

Your first Christmas together @navybrat817

Bucky Barnes x Reader | smut Someone give me that for Christmas please. Naughty Christmas 🤭

From me to you @retrosabers

Bucky Barnes x F. Reader | 2.4k | some angst, fluff

Jingle Bells a little different @buckyalpine

Bucky Barnes x F. Reader | smut

All I want is you @buck-star

BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!F. Reader | fluff

How to cure a grump @holylulusworld

CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x F.Reader | 5 parts | angst, fluff | Fake Dating

Snowball Fight @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!f. Reader | 1.1k | fluff, implied/referenced sex

A Snowstorm, a Grump, and a Game @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!F. Reader | 1k | fluff | Grumpy x Sunshine

Christmas Chaos @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!F. Reader | 1.1k | fluff | Grumpy x Sunshine

The mistletoe tradition @witchywithwhiskey

Intern!Bucky Barnes x Boss!F. Reader | 4.5k |

Wishes come true @mercurial-chuckles

Bucky Barnes x reader |fluff

3-2-1 @holylulusworld

Post!Endgame Bucky Barnes x Reader |slight angst, fluff

Loki

All I want for Christmas @lokisgoodgirl

Avenger!Loki x F. Reader | 1.7K | fluff, mild angst

I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas @joyful-enchantress

Loki x F. Reader | 2k | fluff, humor, slight angst

In the Bleak Midwinter @lokisgoodgirl

Loki x Reader | 3.4K | fluff

Mistletoe Mayhem @tilltheendwilliwrite

Loki x Reader | 3825 | fluff My personal must read for christmas

Slipping between future and past @muddyorbsblr

 Timeslipping TVA!Loki x F. Reader/ OC Talía Williams | 3.8k | smut

The Golden Yule Hunt @societyfolklore

Loki x Asgardian Female Reader | 3.2K | smut

A Midgardian Christmas @just-the-hiddles

Loki x Reader | six parts

Man of the month @muddyorbsblr & @mochie85

Loki x F. Reader | 12 parts + Outtakes | smut, fluff, angst

I absolutely love this masterpiece and can't tell you how often I already reread it.

Secret notes @muddyorbsblr

Loki x F.Reader | 8 parts | fluff, slight angst

Birthday magic @holdmytesseract

Loki x F. Reader | 1.9 k | fluff, slight smut

Unrequited @glitchquake

Loki x F.Reader | fluff, hint to smut, slight angst

Day 18: Mistletoe @gremlin-girly

Loki x gn. Reader | fluff | established relationship

Steve Rogers

Santa Baby @brunchable

Steve Rogers x F. Reader | fluff

First Christmas @navybrat817

Steve Rogers x Reader | 100 | fluff

Winter Wonderland @biteofcherry

Dom!Steve Rogers x Plus Size F. Reader | fluff

Wise men say! @mercurial-chuckles

Steve Rogers x Reader | 99 | fluff

This time of year @witchywithwhiskey

Friend!Steve Rogers x F.Reader | 11.9k | fluff, light angst, smut

Logan Howlett

Last Christmas @pandapetals

Logan Howlett x F. Reader | angst, fluff

Ari Levinson

Ari's and Sunshine's first Christmas @angrythingstarlight

Biker!Ari Levinson x F. Reader

Cold fingers, warm hands @witchywithwhiskey

Ari Levinson x F. Reader | 1K | f So fluffy and cozy

Bad Santa @holylulusworld

Santa!Ari Levinson x Naughty Lister !Reader x Jack Frost!Steve Rogers

Cross-Country Christmas @cevansbrat0007

Bounty Hunter!Ari Levinson x F. Reader| angst, smut

Ransom Drysdale

A Christmas Compromise @stargazingfangirl18

Ransom Drysdale x F. Reader | 5478 | smut

His cookie @buck-star

BestFriend!Ransom Drysdale x BestFriend! F. Reader | 1157 | fluff, some allusions to sexual wording

Lloyd Hansen

Wetnessday Anon's Ask to Siri @stargazingfangirl18

Lloyd Hansen x F. Reader

Jack O'Malley

Tricked @thezombieprostitute

Jack O'Malley & F. Reader

The Avengers

A Christmas Carol @sycamorelibrary754

The Avengers x reader (platonic) | 4.6k | mentions of past trauma, grief and death

I wish every single one of you a very happy Christmas!💜🎄

[agblack]

My Desired Realities (Part 1/???)

Just because I'm bored and wanted to talk about my Desired Realities, and I have several, I decided to write a few informations about each of them. Nothing as extensive as I did before, and maybe I'll give more details later. And they're not in any particular order. As usual, I try to keep things as close to canon as possible. Enjoy ^^

Marvel Cinematic Universe

I think I'm a bit OP here, but can anyone blame me?

♠ Name: Axel (the name I use); Alma ben Rei (my birth name) ♠ Age: Around 100 years younger than Loki

♠ S/O: I didn't script an S/O to this reality. However, I did script that I find someone I love deeply and who loves me back just as much.

♠ Species: Auterian (Auter was a planet that got destroyed long ago, Superman style. Auterian people have lifespan and physical capabilities similar to Asgardians, are immune to mental control or manipulation of any kind. Also, Auterians can breathe in space and heal others, though healing consumes energy according to the intensity of the wound) ♠ The Gems: Some Auterians can attune themselves to special Gems, that give them powers, and once attuned the Gem belongs to said Auterian for life. Usually an Auterian only attune with one gem, with few people being able to attune with 2 or 3. Stories say that someone once got 5. But with the species near extinction, things changed. Those Gems are heavily inspired by the Djinn from the anime Magi: Labyrinth of Magic. Being attuned to a gem is enough to have access to some of its powers, and more than one gem works simultaneously, but to truly use a Gem's power it's needed to enter it's Equip mode. The Equip mode is like a full transformation, that happens instantly, and changes clothes and appearance of the Gem's wielder. Going into the Equip mode disables the other Gems. Using a Gem's power drains energy, like any exercise would, but the more someone knows a Gem, less energy is drained and more complex things can be done for longer periods. ♠ Powers: My powers are based on the Gems that Auterians can attune to. In my case, there are 10 in total:

Focalors: Wind based Gem, allow myself to fly or control the winds. This one was with me when I was sent to Asgard, and is the one I have more control of. Odin doesn't like my use of Focalors now after an event occurred on Midgard the last time we went there.

Barbatos: Strength based Gem, give me superior strength, speed and combat abilities in general. This one I found in Asgard years ago, and I have a great grasp on how to control it. The Equipe mode comes with a spear.

Dantalion: Portal based Gem. With only the Gem, I can control small things with my mind and levitate. In the Equip mode I can create portals between two points in space; the size and distance between the two points dictates the complexity of the task. I found this Gem on Earth, in possession of Jane Foster (the events of Thor, right after I shift to this reality for the first time). I had to use the powers of this Gem to come back to Earth after Loki sent me to Jotunheim during the events of Avengers.

Agares: Earth based Gem, relying on brute force. The Equip mode resembles a golem. Not my favorite. Found this one in Jotunheim after Loki sent me there to not overthrow his plans.

Vinea: Water based Gem. Comes with a Trident in Equip mode. Found in Vanaheim before the events of Thor: Dark World.

Zepar: Sound based Gem. Found in Svartalfheim during the events of Thor: Dark World.

Astaroth: Fire based Gem, with white flames and dragon motifs. Found in Muspelheim during the events of Thor: Ragnarök.

Valefor: Ice based Gem, the Equip mode resembles a kitsune. Found in Niflheim during the events of Thor: Ragnarök.

Baal: Lightning based Gem. Found in Nidavellir during the events of Avengers: Infinity War.

Zagan: Plant based Gem. Equip mode comes with a whip. Found in Alfheim before the events of Avengers: Endgame.

♠ Brief History (SPOILERS): I got sent away from Auter before the destruction, still a newborn, and ended up in Asgard, where I was raised by Odin and Frigga alongside Thor and Loki. I shift there for the first time a bit before the events of the Thor movie, and I'm on Earth in search for the Gem I can sense on the planet. Pietro don't die (avoided). Tony don't die (use of Auterian healing powers that send us both into a week long coma, but nothing serious happens). I don't vanish during the Blip. I become a part of the Avengers.

Once Upon a Time

♠ Name: Adrian Jones (aka Tempest)

♠ Age: 22

♠ S/O: Not sure if I want an S/O in this reality, so I'm leaving it to the universe to decide.

♠ Brief History: I'm Killian's younger brother, and his second in command at the Jolly Roger. I learned magic from Peter Pan, and I kept developing it after we took different paths, and now I'm just as strong as him, maybe more. For some reason the rule "All magic comes with a price" don't apply to me. I'm specialized in wind and water magic, as they help when sailing, but I’m almost as good in the other kinds as well. I also have a natural connection to sea creatures. My reputation precedes me for my mean side. People who heard about me heard about “the vicious and cruel quartermaster of the Jolly Roger”. I’m not a bad person though, acting like that just with people who really wronged me. I’m a natural acrobat, being able to jump through the ropes from the ship without difficulty and having perfect balance. The first time I shift there, I wake up at the Jolly Roger just after the First Curse is broken.

One Piece

♠ Name: Portgas D. Kenji (alias: The Devil)

♠ Age: 18

♠ S/O: Zoro

♠ Devil Fruit: Devil Devil Fruit: Model Hellfire. A mythical Zoan fruit that makes me able to become a devil, or a devil-human hybrid. I get more stamina, strength and speed on the hybrid form, and even more on the devil form. I also get wings, claws and a tail in both form, though in the devil form they look more monstrous. I also can control Hellfire, a white-blueish kind of fire that can burn anywhere, and can be cold as ice or hot as magma. Besides all that, I have extreme healing capabilities, being able to even regrow limbs if needed. I never feel cold or hot, since my body is able to regulate its temperature all the time. For now, going into full devil form for too long make me lose control (like Chopper and his Monster Form). This fruit was a myth, a thing from legends, since the last user was someone ages before Gold Roger.

♠ Brief History: I'm Ace's twin brother. I left with Ace to the sea, though we went separate ways. I found the fruit on an island, before finding the Revolutionary Army and joining their ranks. I make myself part of the Straw Hat crew as they're escaping Loguetown. The Marine doesn't go after the crew more than normal after knowing I’m related to Roger. All ships have plumbing and warm water, using the sea water and filters. The first time I shift there, I'm at Loguetown, and it's the morning the Straw Hats arrive there.

Twilight

♠ Name: Axel Logan Hale

♠ Age: 18 when turned

♠ S/O: Liam, a guy who is part of the wolf pack. Imprinting is a thing, but heavily modified from canon (as in the guy actually has control over his actions and never happens with children, for starters). However Imprinting still changes the wolf's body, in a way, so Liam's scent no longer is bad for vampires, and vampire scent is not bad to him.

♠ Species: Vampire.

♠ Powers: Ice creation and control. This also make my metabolism super slow, so I have to feed less frequently and never tasted human blood, ever.

♠ Brief History: I'm Rosalie's twin brother. While she was the perfect daughter to our parents, I was kind of neglected by them, like a black sheep or something. I got turned a while after she did, by Carlisle - I was confronting Royce about where she was since she just disappeared when she arrived to end him and she threw me to a wall with more force than she should. While Rose hates this new life, I like it. I hated Edward at first, because of his ability to read my thoughts, but now he's my best friend. I shift there the first time a day before Bella's arrival in Forks.

♠ Curiosity: I may write a fic about this (just have to go through writer's block and procrastination)

The Magicians

♠ Name: Axel Hawthorne

♠ Age: 25

♠ S/O: Eliot. Or Quentin. Or both. Who knows what expects me there.

♠ Powers: My Discipline is Aeromancy, so I'm at the Physical Kid's Cottage as well.

♠ Brief History: When I arrived at Brakebills, I tried to stay away from everyone, but neither Eliot nor Margo were having any of that, and since we're on the same year they dragged me into their group, and somehow I let them. I'm also kind of a genius related to magic, and the idea is to become a professor at Brakebills eventually. I first shift there a few days before Quentin's arrival.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Feelings

Valkyrie x fem!reader

Word count: 886

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Aphrodisiac Usage, Power Dynamics (Dom/sub Elements), Rough Sex, Begging & Praise Kink, Possessive, Drinking/Alcohol Consumption, Mild Jealousy, Strap on, Edging (Implied), Overstimulation

Authors notes: King Valkyrie using you on an aphrodisiac has my head spinning

The night starts with a lively celebration at New Asgard, where you and Valkyrie have been sharing drinks and laughter. As the newly appointed King, Valkyrie seems more radiant than ever, and the attention she’s been receiving from others is making you a tad jealous. So when someone brings out a mysterious, potent elixir said to be an Asgardian "liquid courage," you decide to take a sip, hoping to loosen up and keep up with the Asgardian revelry.

What you don’t know is that the drink is actually an ancient Asgardian aphrodisiac, made to intensify one’s emotions and desires. Valkyrie notices the change in you immediately—the way your gaze lingers on her, the slight flush on your cheeks, and the boldness that seems to take over as you lean closer. She finds it amusing at first but soon realizes the elixir has truly taken effect when you can’t keep your hands off her.

Amused and intrigued, Valkyrie decides to tease you a little, guiding you somewhere private, letting you take the lead while she watches the effect the aphrodisiac has on you. She takes her time, allowing you to explore this newfound boldness under her careful gaze.

“I didn’t think you could look any more beautiful, but here we are,” she murmurs, her lips trailing over your cheek as she revels in the unexpected, heated evening together.

Once you’re alone, Valkyrie leans against the wall, arms folded, watching with a smirk as you fight the flush spreading across your skin. The aphrodisiac’s effects intensify, making you feel hot under her piercing gaze, like you’re the only thing she wants in the world right now.

“Val,” you manage, your voice a little breathless. Your hands reach out, fingers trembling as you tug her closer. Her smirk softens into something darker, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Thought you could keep up with an Asgardian, hmm?” she teases, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath ghosting over your lips. Her hands find your waist, firm and grounding, as she dips her head, lips barely brushing yours. She knows the effect she has on you, how the elixir only amplifies the pull you already feel toward her. She’s in no hurry, savoring every moment, every touch, as if you’re something precious and fragile.

Her lips finally press against yours, slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a promise. You melt into it, gripping her tighter, craving every bit of contact. Valkyrie lets you take control for a moment, reveling in the intensity with which you kiss her back. But soon, she deepens it, her lips pressing harder, claiming you as she tilts your chin up, making you feel small and treasured in her grasp.

Her voice is a low murmur against your lips, each word sending shivers down your spine. “Let me show you how we celebrate in New Asgard. It’s about giving in—trusting that I’ll take care of you.”

She lifts you effortlessly, guiding you to the bed nearby. Her hands roam over you with reverence, her touch grounding but electric, each caress making you feel cherished. As she holds you, you feel your nerves fading, replaced by the steady confidence that comes from being wrapped in her strength and devotion.

You can feel her everywhere. You feel yourself clenching around nothing and you absolutely need her inside of you. You’re dripping onto your thighs and a whine escapes your lips. 

“Please my King. Need you inside of me. Need to feel you fill me.” You beg with a whimper, hearing just how pathetic you sound. Val smirks at your need, taking your clothes off and then her own. Of course she was wearing her strap already. She almost always had it on if you were nearby. 

She teases you only a bit before letting herself slowly sink inside. A moan being pulled out from deep inside. As she bottoms out with a moan she looks at you. Staying still and waits for another whimper to leave your lips as your hips move on their own. You need this. Need her. You need more.

“Please fuck me rough my King. I need it rough and fast. Need you to show me my place.” You beg her and thats when she grabs your hips and pistons into you. You grip onto the sheets beneath you. Your brain being so fuzzy with need you don’;t even form anything close to a coherent scenance. Only little pleas and my King are heard as you fall over the edge, but she doesn’t stop as she continues to fuck you through your orgasm with a satisfied, sadistic smirk. 

“You said you could keep up with Asgaurdians so I’m going to use this tight, needy cunt of yours all night and you’re going to take it like the good girl I know you are.” Her voice is deep and full of lust. You can only manage a nod.

For the rest of the night, Valkyrie takes her time, savoring every second as the aphrodisiac brings out a side of you she’s never seen before. And, by the time dawn breaks over New Asgard, the taste of the elixir has faded, leaving only the lingering warmth of her embrace and the promise of more nights like this one, more moments where you’re all hers.

[talesofadragon]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

Synopsis: Centuries spent at the House of Odin have transformed the eclectic balls into familial gatherings and council meetings into morning tea rituals. The gilded walls of the castle have become home, and its royals, family. Yet, when your wisdom crosses paths with folly, affection is born unexpectedly, senselessly—a trait you’ve never been known to entertain, but one that Thor Odinson wears proudly.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Asgardian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to sex. Jealousy. Unrequited Love. Love Triangles. LOKI. (we love him, though.)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort | Fluff | Mild Angst

Word Count: 6K (I have no regrets)

Based on this Request from my writing celebration.

All Masterlists | Sab's Wring Fest

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊 into the queen’s revered gardens, let alone assault her precious snowdrops. But rationale had long been buried deeper than Yggdrasil’s roots, allowing impulsivity to reign over you.

The white petals screeched from the force of your tug, a harsh touch you’d never known yourself capable of administering. But your assault proved relentless, flower after flower limply falling to your side. Ironically, their innocent petals congregated on the fabric of your dress, painting a tinge of beauty over your despondency.

Even in their misery, they refused to be anything but enduring. Pitiful.

“Oh, how delightfully entertaining will it be to gauge Mother’s love for you once she sees what calamity has befallen her garden by your hands.”

“Go away,” you commanded bitterly, back turned to the unwanted presence.

The god behind you neglected to comment on your tone. You heard him shuffle, his feet carefully avoiding stepping on another virtuous plant. He plopped down next to you, elegantly brushing his hands atop the neglected flower stems by your side, reviving them.

“It would be a shame to forgo free entertainment,” Loki smirked, twirling the rejuvenated snowdrop in his fingers.

You craned your head to the right, eyes burning with fire even his Jotun genes couldn’t withstand. “Pity, so many courtesans have slipped from your fingers you now have to settle for my misery for pleasure.”

Loki laughed, his shoulders shaking. His gaze retained his familiar mirth as he answered, “Would your misery be associated with a certain courtesan and an Asgardian prince... fonduing, perhaps?”

“Fonduing?” Your face twisted in disgust. “What in the Nine does that word mean?”

“I heard the spangled American Captain utter it once," Loki recalled. "It’s a euphemism for two people partaking in the biological act of reproduction.”

“What?” you scoffed in disbelief. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Loki’s wry smirk reappeared. “Mortals rarely do,” he confessed.

Your face fell at the reminder of the race you were persistently attempting to forget. Focused on your previous discourse, you had ignored the snowdrops delicately sitting in the palm of your hands. Without a second thought, you resumed your previous ministrations, gracelessly tearing apart petals from the stem.

“You do not happen, by any chance, to be superseding this flower for Thor’s meek mortal friend. Do you?” Loki asked.

“No,” you were quick to reply. “She may be as delicate as a flower, but she’s as beautiful as a Ratatoskr. What do brown eyes remind one of besides tree trunks and repugnant mud?”

“The warmth of an autumn day as the sun embraces the woodlands and shelters its inhabitants from the seasonal tumult to come,” Loki poetically recited, hands drawing figures in the air and a gleam of mischief glowing in his irises.

“Sounds tedious,” you lamented.

It earned you a scoff from Loki, though not for a lack of frivolity. “Midgardians possess this abhorrent concoction called coffee,” he informed, gaining your attention. “It’s a muddy brew that staggeringly increases one’s anxiety threshold.”

“Why would someone create such a senseless horror?”

“Perhaps to use it as a metaphor for a mortal’s brown eyes.”

You scrunched up your nose at the image of the mortal in question. “Fitting. She has such a petite stature. As feeble and brittle as her thirty-year lifespan.”

“I regret to inform you that mortals can live up to a century.”

“Irrelevant. That is still a trifle of our lifespan. And do not get me started on her vexatious disposition. Has this mortal woman been raised in a cave of trolls?”

“Well, this would certainly explain her infatuation with Thor.”

“You are not helping!”

You gathered what remained of the flowers, pelting Loki with the stem and petals. He didn’t deflect your assault, accepting your sour behavior. What you hadn’t accounted for was his retaliation. He pushed your shoulder, slightly rougher than usual, forcing you to land on a bed of flowers.

You groaned, feeling the flora entangling in your hair and their pollen dusting your dress. Loki’s dulcet amusement echoed above your head. A sharp gasp escaped him when you tugged at his emerald green robes and shoved him down. Hard.

“I did not inflict a grain of harm on you,” Loki groaned, swatting the fallen petals, which landed in his hair. “This hurts, Y/N.”

“Your pride or your head? The latter could benefit from some sense knocking into it,” you rebuked.

Loki gazed at you unimpressed. “Now is not an agreeable time to spread your wisdom, Little Goddess. You’ve clearly demonstrated your dwindling abilities when you groaned and moaned about the earthling.”

“I did no such thing! I, astutely might I add, pointed out her subpar qualities that do not mirror what Asgard is looking for in a queen—”

“Thor clearly disagrees.”

“Do not interrupt me, you venomous snake! Thor has always been a dunderhead, overthinking with his brawn and underthinking with his brains.”

“And yet, you were stupid enough to fall in love with him, Goddess of Wisdom.”

“Watch your mouth!” you spat, eyes roving the expanse of the garden to ensure no meddling ears were meandering around. “I care for your brother. But do not confuse care with admiration.”

“Devotion, Y/N. Has the human’s visit caused even your accrued lexicon to recede,” Loki taunted. Had it not been for your skirts in the way and your position on the ground, you would’ve kicked him so hard in certain nether regions that he would’ve sung to Valhalla.

“I stand by what I said.”

“Apologies, Little Goddess. Allow me, as the God of Lies, to refute your statement. Both metaphorically and in the literal sense.”

That filthy little python. You scoffed, perhaps a little more at yourself than him. He elicited the responses he desired, painting a mockery out of you and your feelings. You knew you couldn’t debate the matter with him more than you already had. As the God of Lies and your, unfortunately, best friend, he’d always have the upper hand in this matter.

So, you stood up and dusted your skirts. If you weren't winning, then participating in this debate was of no use. 

“Where are you going?” Loki inquired, an underlying tone of merriment hiding beneath his words.

Your eyes squinted, regarding him with indignation. “You have effectively sullied my mood even further. Your mother’s beautiful flowers do not deserve more ill will at my hands. Therefore, I’m taking my leave.”

If Loki had said anything after your response, your mind had elected to ignore it. Huffing aloud, you marched toward the castle, uncaring for the traces of mud and the wealth of fallen petals that trailed behind. On a regular day, you would’ve been more mindful, casting a simple cleaning spell to polish your appearance and ensure the poor attendants of the Odin Household would not have to partake in more work than necessary. But your anger and heartbreak had been immeasurable enough to deny you any act besides sulking over the mortal woman Thor had ignorantly brought along to Asgard.

The Norns, much like Loki, must’ve been taking pleasure in your predicament. You had rounded the corner, one gilded hallway separating you from the castle’s entrance, when the silhouette of the Crown Prince appeared. 

Unlike the ladies of the court, your admiration for Thor did not stem from his ethereal beauty. It bloomed like Freyja’s primroses, a sturdy seedling that, with time, opened its foliage to a world of wonder and ardor. He was a cosmic presence—a child of the sun, with light and fire dancing around his immaculate frame in wisps of enchantment, leaving every woman breathless. Including you.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor’s voice reverberated in the long hallway, laced with excitement. "I hadn't anticipated your presence today. No wonder the day exudes such radiance."

His comment made heat rise to your cheeks. It was almost as if he had shared his warmth with you, sending it trekking along his words to your heart. You smiled at him, demure and saccharine. But your lips downturned once another presence, one less noticeable or agreeable, appeared behind him.

You cleared your throat, attempting to restrain your unease as you greeted, “Thor, Mistress Foster.”

Norns burn you if you call her by the same title you bear. The earthling, as Loki so eloquently worded it, could not match you.

Without a greeting nor a poised lexicon, the Midgardian inquired, “Why are your clothes dirty?” 

Her question intrigued Thor enough for his eyes to rove your body. The warmth that had settled in your veins morphed into the embers of Helheim. You felt small and brittle under the scrutiny of his penetrating gaze.

“I beg your pardon?” you fired back promptly, indignation concealing the shame you felt at your soiled image.

Your words caused the mortal to pale, head swiveling to Thor’s side in anxiousness and trepidation. “I apologize, my lady,” she rectified her earlier statement. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Well, you certainly were, you internally chastised.

Thor took another look at your attire, meticulously examining the fabric. You endeavored to compose yourself, resisting the urge to shift your weight from one foot to another. His hand reached for your arm, his thumb sweeping across your elbow. “Are you well, Lady Y/N? You look… disheveled.”

You immediately retracted your arm, fearing his senses might pick up on your galloping heart. “I am quite alright. I was with Loki in the gardens,” you supplied.

“Loki?” The mortal regarded you with an air of cynicism. Your blood boiled at her brashness. “What were you and Loki doing in the gardens?”

“Have you no tact, you imprudent minger? Although your kind lacks sensibility and decorum, you ought to address those of elevated stature with respect while in their dominion! Neither Prince Loki nor I are your comrades to tolerate such crass mannerisms.”

“I’m… my sincerest apologies, I didn’t think—”

“Thinking is not as sparse on Asgard as it is on Earth. If you find yourself incapable of harnessing a modicum of wisdom when addressing me, then you are in the presence of the wrong Goddess.”

"Y/N," Thor interjected, his omission of your title not slipping past your notice. Nor did you miss the hand that reached out for the mortal girl.

His actions only served to fan the flames of your jealousy and hurt. Almost a millennium of knowing that male, and he had chosen a measly mortal's side over yours.

“Do not patronize me!” you ordered, jamming a finger in his broad, muscular chest. “I am not the right audience for your feigned, princely performance.”

Thor squeezed the mortal’s hand in reassurance, tugging her further to his side—as if to shield her from you. He craned his face lower to meet your gaze. Endearing as you'd always found it, it made you uneasy at this moment.

"You seem overly emotional today,” he inquired, voice low and delicate, juxtaposing his chosen words. “Has Loki said something to upset you?"

You cracked. How dare he?

“Loki may perhaps be the only male in all of Asgard who possesses an ounce of empathy and understanding when it comes to my feelings and disposition,” you snapped back, ignoring how your words seemed to slap Thor in the face. “He has been my best friend for close to a millennium and is one of the princes of this realm. So if I, as a lady of the court, find that your little mortal is besmirching his name, the least I could do is call her out on it!”

Your outburst held more weight than you had anticipated, managing to leave Thor speechless. He regarded you with an air of perplexion, his mouth open—seemingly unsure of what response was fair in this situation. 

You didn’t want to waste any further time in his or the mortal’s company. You grunted, walking away. The sound of your footfall ringing louder than deemed honorable for a lady.

“Y/N, wait!” Thor called out after you, his hand shooting up to grab your arm. Though he was massively built, with the strength and mass of Asgard lying on his shoulders, his shy grasp fluttered against your skin. Featherlike, it tickled your nerves, sending a chorus of tenderness through your pulse.

You turned around, a mask of stoicism hiding your feelings. “Yes?”

“I appreciate your inclination to defend my brother, but, I, and Jane, were merely concerned over your well-being—”

“Accusing Loki of maltreatment!” you reminded Thor, swiftly retracting your arm from his grasp.

He sighed, placing both hands on his hips. You loathed how small he made you feel before the mortal. “You are exaggerating.”

“And you are heedless! Whatever Loki and I were doing in the gardens is none of your or the mortal’s concern! What’s it to you both? Maybe we decided to fondue. We do not get in your business, so do not meddle in ours!”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than your legs commanded you to retreat to another room. You didn’t understand why you had said that. Your wisdom melted into a puddle whenever Thor and his little pet were involved. 

When had you become so insensitive?

Mistress Foster left. Her visit didn’t amass more than a fortnight's worth of frustrations before King Odin had deemed her visit long. If an immortal God such as Odin Allfather perceived these days as anything but transient, then Jane Foster was truly a nuisance in her own right. 

The knowledge of her absence, particularly on this day, overjoyed you. The Vernal Equinox served as a portent of hope for Asgard—embracing prominent figures from neighboring realms in celebration of Asgard’s princes and in anticipation of the future. 

In loose terms, it presented the Asgardian royalty with a wealth of eligible females to choose from as the next princess and queen of the realm. In broader terms, it was another opportunity to observe Loki and Thor merrily charm the ladies to appease Odin and Frigga—while satiating particular desires on the side.

You dismissed your ladies in waiting, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the door. Your feigned smile fell, and the familiar trepidation rose when you saw who stood by the door. 

“Fondue?” Loki snickered, mischief practically waltzing in his bejeweled eyes. “Darling Y/N, had I known you were inclined to roll in my sheets, I would’ve bedded you centuries sooner.”

You grabbed him by the fabric of his tailored robes, pulling him harshly toward your rooms. “I panicked!” you grumbled. It was barely heard over the deafening sound of his amusement. 

“Well, you certainly rectified your error by pulling me into your chambers.”

“Shut up!”

“Ah, my Little Goddess. How exquisitely appetizing do you look,” he joked, purposely raising his voice.

You jumped on him, a screech tearing through your vocal cords. Loki laughed louder, trying to grasp your hands as you assaulted him with your fists. You hadn’t expected him to bite your finger. 

“You bastard!” you seethed, cradling your hand. 

“What was that, Y/N? You want it faster?”

“Loki!!”

“Ah, tell me how good it feels,” he mused.

You were not impressed. “You are an idiot,” you retorted.

Your argument, if you could call it that, receded rather swiftly. You refused to look at Loki, rolling your eyes and settling them on your vanity. You weren’t frustrated, per se. Loki always had a knack for playing with your feelings like they were puppets on a string. Not in a malevolent way. The matter was, if your gaze caught him, you knew the little impish snake would expose the laughter he had succeeded in digging out of you.

Loki’s voice caught you before your thoughts meandered further. “You’re wearing the wrong colors.”

You looked down at yourself, your silver shoes peeking from the fabric of your long blue dress. It was light azure. Quaint and placid. An exterior representation of the feelings you were chasing. The fabric was tulle, whimsical and, airy like Spring’s birds merrily dancing across cloudless Asgardian sky. Its off-shoulder design, adorned with gleaming silver gems and bishop sleeves, accentuated your elegance and grace. A Goddess. A member of the House of Odin, even if you didn’t have a crown. 

“If you’re insinuating I ought to have worn your brother’s colors, then I regret to inform you, that you were mistaken.”

Loki shook his head as a mischievous shadow passed over his face. “You’d appear desperate. And you, Y/N, are anything but.”

“Then what colors were you referencing?” you asked, brows creasing in thought. “Surely not your own.”

“Mine, no. But the witless oaf doesn’t have to know that.”

You didn’t comprehend whatever it was he was insinuating. Wordlessly, Loki twirled his fingers, a thread of emerald green seidr tantalizing your sight. He flicked his wrist. The magical trail shot from his fingertips to your dress, deftly pirouetting along the light azure tulle. 

The colors changed from blue to green and silver to gold. The boldness of your outfit contrasted with the muted portrait you tried to paint earlier. You studied your dress, eyes roving the fabric before examining Loki’s attire. You almost scolded him for putting you in his colors when you did not intend for your farce to go further than it did. But then you noticed these colors, chosen by Loki, were darker than his. 

It was a subtle contrast, discerned when in closer proximity to the God of Mischief. The royal family could immediately catch the difference. The ladies, though, wouldn’t be able to. Neither would Thor.

“Is this a wise choice?” you asked, playing with the sleeves of your dress. 

Loki took your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “The answer lies with you, Little Goddess.”

Wise, maybe not. Fun? It certainly would be. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to these festivities without constantly having to clutch your heart at the thought of Thor.

“It’s a mutual agreement,” you answered diligently. “This keeps the ladies and Thor away.”

Loki tutted. “This keeps the witless oaf’s mind working. He has stashed his wits so far beneath the surface, the cobwebs have devoured them whole.”

“And you think this alliance between wisdom and mischief will decontaminate his head from thoughts of the impertinent mortal?”

“I believe my brother is a hopeless case. If it works, then by all means, enjoy the fruits of our labor. If it doesn’t, then enjoy the privilege of my company.”

“Your company?” you chortled, wrapping your arm around his elbow. “Lokes, I’ll be gracing you with mine.”

He mimicked your chortle, beginning to lead you out of the room. "I must admit, your presence has staggeringly illuminated my days in Asgard. Father is covertly hoping that I ask for your hand in marriage."

"And Frigga?" you asked, aware of Loki's deep affection for his mother and her opinion.

He covered your hand, which rested on his arm, with his free one, leaning closer to your ear. "She much prefers you with Thor." You blushed, a crimson hue spreading across your cheeks. Loki took delight in your sheepishness. "You could spare me the hassle of sifting through noble ladies by accepting a marriage proposal, Y/N. I immensely enjoy roleplay in the bedroom. And though I do not wish to lay eyes on certain biological regions of my brother, I can indulge you if that is what you fancy."

"I fancy your silence, you brute!" you chastised, stomping on his foot.

Loki barely flinched, but he placed some distance between you both. He opened the door, and before you could venture beyond your bedroom, he positioned himself in your line of sight. "You forgot something, darling." The nickname felt foreign, especially when unaccompanied by your first name. Before you could inquire about it, you felt a shimmer of magic raking through your hair.

"What did you do?"

Loki smiled fondly, passing his fingers through your loose hair. "Turned you from a goddess to a princess."

Your gaze locked with his as you lifted your fingers to your head. There was a weight there, not something unbearable but undeniably foreign. Your fingers traced the contours of what you assumed was a diadem.

"What was that for?"

Loki stepped closer to you, his taller frame engulfing yours, cocooning you with his body heat. His lips settled on your forehead, his fingers intertwining with yours. You blinked, mind racing to figure out the parameters of his new trick. “You’re precious, Y/N,” he confessed breathlessly, his voice almost vulnerable. “More valuable than the troves of Asgard and the magic of Yggdrasil. And by the Norns, whoever forsakes your treasured company deserves to be bereft of your radiance, ensnared by the unforgiving grasp of Helheim for their sacrilege, Little Queen.”

For the first time in your 800 years of life, you found yourself at a loss for words in response to Loki's. His words were carefully chosen, poignant, and endearing, befitting his poetic prowess. Yet, something about the declaration felt amiss; a subtle discordance that unsettled you. It was then, out of the corner of your eye, that you caught sight of Thor.

His cerulean eyes, usually bright with warmth, were now veiled in darkness, glinting with a silver sheen you had never seen before. Thor's demeanor betrayed a mix of emotions, his features clouded with anger and a hint of betrayal. Before you could utter a word, he turned and left, his bloody red ceremonial attire fading from view.

Loki's intentions became clearer then. He sought to deceive Thor. But why would such words incite his brother's ire? And why had Loki chosen to describe you as such?

This Vernal Equinox proved to be different. You couldn’t categorize it as either good or bad as you had yet to comprehend your perplexing emotions about the celebration. The familiar joviality and folly were missing given that Loki and Thor seemed to have reversed their roles. 

Content with you on his arm, Loki’s charade persisted well into the late hours of the evening. He kept you to his side, not that you minded, twirling, discoursing, and occasionally, joking about the whole ordeal. The nobles, courtiers, and ladies had all presumed you debuting, your green dress a declaration of your choice in contenders. If not for that, then the golden diadem on your head 

Frigga and Odin seemed to know better. The Allfather offered you and his youngest no more than a feeble smile, pleased to see you and Loki together, even though he knew this was all but a farce. The Allmother, while graceful as ever, did not attempt to mask her errant gaze, her bright eyes dimming as she looked at Thor. 

The older son, heir to the throne of Asgard, had forgone merriment in favor of appeasing the ladies. Given that Loki had monopolized your time, all of the wayward bachelorettes traveled toward Thor. No lady was cast aside, each receiving a handful of minutes with the prince. And though that should’ve hurt you, the ache in your heart could only be attributed to the misery Thor wore. 

You and Loki drifted toward Sif and the Warriors Three since Thor had abandoned his usual idle chatter and reckless drinking. Hours later, Fandral was on the verge of passing out, Hogun was inebriated yet still standing, while Volstagg recounted one of the ancient battles on Alfheim to Loki and Sif.

When it was an hour past midnight, you excused yourself from the festivities, claiming you were too tired to continue. 

In truth, sleep evaded you. Your mind inundated with thoughts. But you didn’t allow yourself to entertain one more question or idea, letting your feet guide you wherever they preferred. 

You reached one of the castle’s balconies, a small one on the right side of the ballroom. You could still hear the music from the festivities, although it was a gentle hum. Euphonious and dulcet, serving as the perfect ballad in the backdrop. The sky lit up, gleaming stars strewn across the darkness. You wondered if they were the Norns’ portents. If you could wish upon them and the world would hum in answer. 

The sound of retreating footsteps pulled your attention away from the sky. You knew that silhouette anywhere. 

“Thor?” the word tumbled from your lips before you could fully register what the night had brought. 

Thor’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t respond, almost as if contemplating whether to provide you with an answer or ignore your presence. He sighed, broad shoulders deflating, before he turned around. 

“I apologize, Lady Y/N. I was not aware the area was preoccupied.”

“You need not to apologize, Thor,” you stated, unsure where his usual boldness had gone. “The area is large enough to accommodate both of us.”

It almost looked as though Thor would decline your offer. His blue eyes wandered, from you to the horizon then back. He regarded you in an unfamiliar way, taking in your appearance. You didn’t want him to catch sight of your fluster, so you turned your back to him, getting lost in the sight of Asgard at night. 

When you thought Thor would leave, you heard him make his way to your side. 

“I wish to apologize to you, Y/N,” he whispered, uncertainly. Not because he did not mean it, no. You knew Thor well enough to tell when he was lying about something. Your friendship with Loki illuminating his brother’s traits further. Thor leaned on his side, the banister supporting his weight. His demeanor was brittle, a far cry from what you had known. Your breath was lost in your throat, unsure whether you should gasp or sob. A step forward and there would be no distance between the both of you. You never wanted to hug him more. “Had I known you and my brother were…” He paused, taking in a shaky breath. “...Courting. Had I known, neither I nor Jane would have adopted such an insensitive tone before.”

You shook your head, fingers tingling to reach out for him. “We’re…Loki and I we’re…” But you couldn’t complete your sentence. A part of you imploring to deny Thor’s claim. Another fearing Thor’s distance if you admitted the truth. 

“An odd combination,” Thor smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Mischief and Counsel. Wisdom and Lies.”

“They’re opposite sides of the same coin. Perhaps, that’s why they work better than expected,” you defended, unsure why. 

Thor nodded, the same meek smile unerased. He looked down at his feet, strands of his blond hair covering his face. It had grown taller from the last time he had cut it on Midgard. Now resting upon his shoulders. As if he needed more weight to bear. 

“I must admit that he might be the luckiest one between us both. And he does not even know it?”

Your hand shot up involuntarily, clutching at the golden jewels across the bodice of your dress. “How so?” you asked, your thumb circling the fabric in a futile attempt at soothing your heartache at Thor’s tone. 

One of Thor’s hands glided across the banister, landing where yours had laid. While his gaze held your face, your eyes couldn’t help but land on his larger hand. “Loki presumes I cannot tell his ire at the court ladies galivanting to my side. He has always been too forlorn to understand that numbers have mattered not to me.” His hand dared to reach for yours then, a featherlike caress that made your heart gallop faster than Sleipnir. “Those who choose me over Loki desire nothing more than the throne. I have nothing else to offer. No wit, no literary aptitude, or poetic charm. I am nothing but brutish and capricious. It takes a no great amount of ardor to love my brother. It takes a kingdom to love someone like me.”

You retracted your hand, the action so unexpected and harsh, Thor jumped back in surprise. He opened his mouth, perhaps to apologize, but he closed it when he saw the expression you wore. Silver misted your irises, decayed and morose, mirroring the disheartenment that haunted you. 

“How can you say that?” you questioned—shrieked, even. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, your hands clawing at your dress because of the pain you felt. “Who…who made you feel as such?”

“Y/N—”

“No, Thor! You cannot utter such insidious words in my presence! You are kind, tender, and caring. A summer’s breath, warm and ecstatic. In your fierceness, you wield passion, and in your tempest resides the strength to protect. You are worthy of many things, Thor Odinson. And love is atop that wealth. I would forgo the world’s realms and riches to bask in the light of your affection.”

The words that traversed the distance between were not measured nor were they second-guessed. You had not the time to question your affections, wondering if it was worth bringing them to light or not. But you needed Thor to understand that what he felt, the dejectedness and loneliness, were unwarranted. 

You need to touch him, embrace him—assure his heart that he was worthy, and if you couldn’t do it physically, then your words had to suffice. 

Thor stood there, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something akin to hope. He reached out tentatively, brushing away the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “Y/N…”

You allowed his thumb to trace the skin beneath your eyes before wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest. Once, you thought to yourself. Even if this was a lie, I’ll gladly entertain it, just this once.

“Those ladies who crave your affections for the crown are not worthy of you. Even if you were the second son, even if the Norns had created you a mortal, you would still be worthy, Thor. You would still be loved.”

Thor’s hands traveled from your back. One moved up to cradle your head while the other rested on your lower back, cradling you closer to his chest. You could hear his heartbeats frantically drumming against his rib cage. Almost as if they were loud enough to create their own melody.  

You felt Thor plant a kiss atop of your head, close to where the diadem lay. He swayed with you in his arms, hold on you tightening and unwilling to let go. “You’re precious, Y/N,” he recited the words with complete reverence. Their familiarity registered, but you didn’t have time to question him before he continued, “More valuable than the troves of Asgard and the magic of Yggdrasil. And by the Norns, whoever forsakes your treasured company deserves to be bereft of your radiance, ensnared by the unforgiving grasp of Helheim for their sacrilege, Little Queen.”

A sharp gasp escaped your lips. “What did you just say?” you questioned, still nestled in his protective embrace.

“Loki did not compose this prose,” Thor confessed, his eyes dark with hesitation. “I wrote it. Two hundred years ago. For you.”

“What?” you breathed, the word splintering with emotion.

“I…I have always felt a connection to you. A sense of calm. Your wisdom and grace, but above all, your charm and wit captured my heart before I even knew it.”

“You never said anything,” you reminded, blinking harshly against the realization.

“How could I?” Thor’s thumb brushed the side of your mouth, drawing a choked whimper from you. “You are elegant while I am rough. A prince by title, but not by manner—”

“Do not belittle yourself in my presence.”

Thor chuckled softly, his gaze just as gentle.

“You are the Goddess of Wisdom, Little Queen.” That nickname—the Norns damn it—stirred emotions in you that you had never felt before. “What wisdom would there be in associating with the God of Thunder?”

“Is that why you distanced yourself?” The question was thick with unspoken feelings. “Is that why…why you chose Jane?” Over me. Your thought was left unspoken.

Thor’s expression darkened with remorse, his features shadowed by regret. “Have you never noticed the similarities between you two?”

“What similarities?”

“She is a smart woman. Accomplished, fastidious, attentive, and resilient despite her delicate appearance. Just as you are.”

“She is a mortal,” you countered. 

Thor nodded solemnly. “She cannot be made a queen. Not in the eyes of the Asgardians.”

“Then why—”

“It would be easier to gauge her choice.” Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You realized too late that he was pulling away, keeping you at arm’s length. “As I said.” His gaze traveled the expanse of your body, regret permeating the air suddenly. “Those who choose me do it for Asgard’s throne. Those who choose my brother do it for love,” he reiterated, brokenly. He added in a more fractured tone, “You look stupendous in emerald green, my lady.”

“Viridian,” you corrected, evoking his bafflement. “It’s viridian green, a darker shade than emerald. Truthfully, I had opted for my own colors. But Loki approached my chambers before I could leave, and he all but decided to trick the court to his own advantage.”

“You’re not… you’re not courting Loki?”

You shook your head. “No. He and I have long been friends.”

“Friends,” Thor repeated, but there was a shift in the air when he said the word—as if Valhalla’s gates had opened and the angels descended to Asgard, humming their dulcet ballads.

“Tell me that’s not what we were,” you ventured, figuring that courage ought to accompany wisdom. “Tell me after all that was said and done that we weren’t just friends.”

You expected Thor to flounder, to grapple with an answer to your demand. “It wouldn’t make sense,” he attested. “It wouldn’t make sense if that were all we were, Little Queen.”

The angels of Valhalla must have roared, not sung, because as soon as Thor had breathed those words, tentative and full of fealty, his lips captured your own. You understood then, the complexity that arose from his role as God of Thunder. Your lips were in a fray, lapping at each other, wet and thunderous as you were conquered by his veneration. His large hands grabbed at your bottom, hoisting you up in the air. Your dress didn’t allow you the pleasure of wrapping your legs around his waist, but that didn’t stop you from clutching at his clothes, his hair, his soul.

Thor’s lips caressed your own. There was no set direction to their motion, almost as if he couldn’t decide whether to take it slow or devour you whole. The noises you made, the noises he made, small and mellow, reverberated in the empty space, adding to the symphony of your love and desire.

You didn’t want to pull away. Latching to the thunder and lightning invading your senses, getting lost in the storm.

A shiver ran down your entire body, accentuated by Thor’s teeth nipping at your lower lip. “Y/N,” he whispered breathlessly.

Your eyes opened, your image framed by his irises—protectively and vehemently.

He settled you on the ground, lips widening at your sight. “My colors suit you best.”

You didn’t understand what he had meant until you looked down. Your clothes had changed color. Again. The accent of your attire shifted to a bold red and silver.

“You best not attempt to produce an heir tonight, brother,” Loki sounded from behind Thor. He wore a smug smirk, leaning against one of the balcony pillars. Of course that bastard followed you. “Our chambers are nearby, and I do not need to hear my brother and best friend fondue.”

You blushed, cheeks turning crimson. Thor didn’t even spare Loki a glance, focusing his attention on you. “Little Queen, you look magnificent in my colors strewn across every inch of your body.”

And before you could help yourself, you boldly claimed, “I would look even more magnificent with your love marks strewn across every inch of my body.”

Thor’s eyes darkened, a primal yearning painting his irises with desire. He tugged at your hands then, pulling you to his chest. “Let me mark you with centuries worth of love, Little Queen. Allow me to show you what lesser beings cannot do.”

“Show me, my God.”

You drowned in his ardent storm, uncaring for the waves, noise, or the chaos. It was senseless. Everything you never were. Everything Thor was. Everything you, deep down, longed to feel with him.

Thank you @crazyunsexycool for this request! It was so fun to write for Thor, you can tell since this turned out to be 6K words🥹 I couldn't stop! Seriously, this might've been my favorite fic ever! Thank you for participating in my celebration. ♥️

I might extend my writing celebration if more requests come in. For all those interested, please feel free to follow the link!

I hope you like this one, witchlings. Okay, byeeee.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hey I'd really love it if you could write smth about like jealous!peter quill or just him being overly possessive like maybe like you're just friends at the moment and you guys are at this club and like idfk the avengers team could be there 😭😭 and one of them starts flirting with you abd you flirt back and shit ans just how u think peter would react- anything basically with him being just jealous and shit omg thankyou in advance 😭😭

hii!! omg I love it and had fun writing it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 *I didn't mark it as mature, tumblr did :/ *

jealous

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.7k

warnings || none, just quill being a lil jelly

masterlist + rules

taglist

After the Battle of Earth two years ago, you and the other Guardians remained quite good friends with the Avengers you had met. Every so often, you and the team would be invited to parties at their temporary compound. As it was such a long journey from Knowhere, you all tended to decline the invitations, much preferring to remain in the comfort of home rather than travel halfway across the galaxy. But, as it was coming up the anniversary, you felt as though you were obliged to make an appearance considering what you had all been through. 

-

Rocket lands the Bowie on the landing bay just outside, and you all stand from your seats, stretching your tired legs as you straighten over your clothes, preparing to exit the ship and join the rest of the party. You turn to Quill, sweetly smiling as you extend a hand, silently asking him to take it in his. He laces his hand into yours, firmly shaking as a boyish grin spreads across his lips. 

"No—" you sigh, pulling your hand from his. "You weren't supposed—ugh,"

"What was I supposed to do?" Peter questions, his tone full of sincerity as he watches you walk away with the girls.

"You were supposed to escort her off the ship, Pete," Rocket says flatly, walking past.

"I am Groot."

"I am not a moron." Quill protests. "Drax, you hearing this?"

"You are a moron Quill," he replies simply, following behind Rocket and Groot.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What is this? Gang up on Quill day? Look, I didn't know she wanted me to help her. I thought she wanted to shake my hand, that's all."

"Then go find her, idiot." Rocket adds, nodding Quill along.

Peter makes his way inside the compound to search for you, immediately bumping into people he doesn't recognise. "God, this music is awful," he mumbles, adjusting his jacket as he makes his way to the bar upstairs. Quill hears a familiar Asgardian bellow of a laugh as he walks up the steps, following the sound, he sees the back of Thor with his arm draped over the shoulder of a woman- a girl, Quill's 'girl'.

He rushes over, abruptly interrupting the conversation. 

"Oh hey, Quill," you say slyly, leaning into Thor as you bat your lashes at the clearly jealous-looking guy standing before you. 

"Good to see you," Thor greets, extending a hand. "Missed ya, buddy,"

Peter swats his hand away. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. What uh—what you doing?" he asks inconspicuously, gazing around the busy room with his hands on his hips. 

"He was just telling me a funny story," you pause to laugh, tapping Thor on the chest. "You should tell him. He'd love it."

As Thor described the humourous events of the story, you watched Peter's face begin to contort, barely keeping his composure, his nostrils practically flaring as he stared at your lingering hand. Keeping your eyes glued to Quill's, you taunt him further, lightly circling your hand over Thor's muscular arm as you engage in the conversation. 

"Tree?" Thor pauses the story as he catches a glimpse of Groot above the swarm of people. "One minute," he says, slipping from you. "I'll be right back."

"What the hell was that?" Quill whispers, his tone full of irritation. 

"What was what?" you ask, crossing your legs as you pat the now-empty space beside you, silently urging him to sit.

"You're such a dick," he chuckles, sitting close beside you, his hip pressed to yours as he drapes his arm over your shoulder.

"Yeah, well... so are you," you snicker, resting your hand on his thigh, slowly leaning into him. "God, this music is awful," 

"Right?"

You and Peter sit together in comfortable silence as you gaze around the room of unfamiliar people, watching the conversations play out as you snuggle into one another's side. Both of you avoiding the daunting question. The question of your undeclared situation.

"We really should mingle," you say begrudgingly, tapping him on the leg.

"Ugh," he groans, slipping from your warmth and standing up. He extends a hand, patiently waiting for you to take it. Lacing your hand in his, you shake it with a smug grin across your lips.

"What? I thought you wanted me to shake it," you laugh heartily, wrapping your arm around his side as he leads you through the crowd of people.

"You really are a dick."

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.  

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.  

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead. 

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

“So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“  

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-  

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast.  Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

Steve Rogers masterlist 

Complete masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰