#Loki X Reader

[jynx-raven]

[undercoveravenger]

Building Destiny

Pairing: Loki x Asgardian!Male!Reader:

Requested: Yes

Request: Tumblr ate the original request but it was something along the lines of: “Loki finding his lover who he’d thought was dead but was actually banished to Earth”

A/N: Takes place during the events of 2012’s The Avengers because I miss that era of Marvel SO BAD

-----

In your time on Earth, few things had posed such a potential problem as the Tesseract. While few had the ability to use it, its very presence invited those who would attempt to use its power to harm the universe. Including your old flame, Loki. He’s why you’d been so quick to accept Fury’s invitation to assist with its retrieval.

You doubt he even knew of your involvement until he’s been captured and brought aboard the SHIELD helicarrier. Until those brilliant icy blue eyes meet yours through the window of Banner and Stark’s lab as you help them bridge the gap between the Tesseract’s science and magic as he’s escorted to the holding cell, wrists shackled and a muzzle clamped over that too-clever mouth. You can see the flicker of shock in the miniscule tilt of his brows, the creeping wave of doubt that replaces the recognition. You can’t blame him for doubting the reality of your presence, not after everything that had happened. 

And you leave him with that doubt as the days pass, as SHIELD agent after SHIELD agent attempts to crack him. You let him stew over whether he’d truly seen you or just a doppleganger as the buzz begins to settle and security begins to lapse, and then, finally, late in the night you go to him, security cameras fuzzing out and guards slipping into the warm grasp of sleep in your wake.

In just a few short breaths from your sleeping Midgardian colleagues you stand opposite the thick wall of glass keeping Loki contained, face to face with your lover for the first time in centuries. He seems startled, though only someone who knew him as well as you would’ve been able to tell.

“Hello, my love,” you say, a hand coming up to press against the glass between you without conscious thought. It had always been instinct for you to want to be close to him.

He’s silent, but you know it comes only from that brilliant mind racing - that he’s calculating odds and probabilities. That he’s trying to determine the truth of your presence - whether it’s really you or just another trick SHIELD is using to try and get to him. 

“You died,” he says slowly, not yet believing you, but still unwilling to put further distance between you. “A very long time ago.”

A wry smile twists your features and you pull back, fingertips cool from the glass, and start to circle the glass prison. His gaze does not waver from you. “I suppose that is what Odin would have told everyone, yes,” you sigh. You gesture up toward the security cameras, “They’re off, by the way. And the guards will not disturb us, I’ve made sure of that.” There’s a flicker, a waiver of reality, as you vanish and reappear inside of the cage behind Loki. “You know what he told me? That I was dangerously close to destroying your destiny, and Thor’s alongside it. He said I would uproot the very fabric of fate if I remained at your side.” 

He doesn’t turn to face you, though you can see a fraction of the tension leave his shoulders under the rich greens and burnished golds of his armor. 

“I told him I would rather die than be kept from you. And he said that he could make me wish for death.” It hurts to remember the look on the All-Father’s face, to think of the weight of his decree, but Loki deserves to know everything. To be able to make his own choice for once in his long life. “He sent me here with nothing and no one and no way for me to get back to you.”

The silence is heavy, bearing down on your shoulders with all the weight of the things you’d never gotten the chance to tell him. The truths you’d learned that you hadn’t been able to tell him, the ‘I love you’s’, the eternity you should’ve been able to spend together.

“Did you try?” he asks, voice soft like silk bedsheets in sleepy afternoons spent curled up together and crushed velvet clutched in desperate fingers. “Did you try to find a way back?”

Your voice is thick, the words hard to force out around the heft of their truth, “Every day.” 

He turns, finally, the ache in his blue eyes matching the one in your heart and he makes it a half step toward you before he starts to collapse and you surge forward to meet him, arms curling tight around his waist to support him and keep him close to you. His fingers tighten into the leather of your armor, holding you just as tightly. He will not lose you again. “I mourned,” he says, and you can hear the pain, the tears threatening to choke his words, “By all the realms, I mourned.” 

“I know,” you murmur, because you do. You’d had no way of knowing if he lived, all those years with you trapped here, but you had hoped and mourned anyway - grieving over all the years you should have had. “But we’re together now. Loki, we can go.” His weight eases against you as he looks up at you and you can see your suggestion taking root, “We use the tesseract to get off this planet and go somewhere, just the two of us. No Odin, no Chitari, no destiny that we do not build ourselves.”

A breathless sort of laugh escapes him and you can feel his fingers slip up your back to curl into your hair and he drags you down until he can kiss you, deep and longing and aching in a way you can feel through every fiber of your being. “Okay,” he says, when he pulls back for a breath. “Okay.” He’s smiling so broadly he’s nearly unable to kiss you again. Nearly.

And you feel the same joy echoing through you, knowing that the two of you are free now, free to be together and build the future you never thought you’d get.

[jiimeniita]

[tarithenurse]

The ritual

Fandom: MCU AU. Pairing/starring: Jotun!Loki Laufeyson x Jotun!fem!reader. Word count: 1804. Content: Jotun, angst, smut, loss of virginity, breeding. A/N: Not betaed, as usual. Hope you liked it. As per usual please like, comment, reblog. Here’s my TAGLIST and my MASTERLIST for more.

The ritual

You and a handful other maidens had been picked for this. It was an honour, you were told. And of the half dozen of you, only one would be worthy. You know you should be exited. Hopeful. Instead you were full of a fear that threatened to drown you slowly, creeping in from the corners of you mind and tainting everything with its mucky darkness.

You had been taken from your parents’ home the night before to partake in the preparatory feast. Sleep in a foreign bed under furs that were supposed to keep you from shivering – but you had anyways even if it wasn’t from the cold.

In the morning, you and the other maidens were bathed. Scrubbed until your skin was tingling while your hair was washed with the finest soaps, scented like pine needles.

Cleansed.

Then you were dressed in the finest silks, gossamer thin and showing off more than it covered it seemed. Thin and airy. Long slits to show off your thighs. Bare back.

Then came the ornate jewellery: golden necklaces with emerald and diamonds and onyxes. Thick cuffs for your wrists and you couldn’t help but think bitterly that all that was missing was a chain and a ball. A simple but heavy necklace like a snake biting itself in the tail, eyes green and glistening.

You were given nothing to eat but plenty to drink and even as you tried to pace yourself, you could feel the gentle dizziness behind your eyes by the time you and the other maidens were lined up to walk up to the cave where the ritual was to take place.

Torches and people were lined along the path. Happy faces. Mouths moving in song, softly at first but steadily growing as the line of maidens walked up the path – you at the rear with your head held high despite the terror in your guts.

You reach the plateau and even if you had been desperate enough, you wouldn’t be able to run with so many people crowded there.

The song’s crescendo matches your heartbeat: wild and quick. And as the maidens fan out to form a crescent, you find (as you should have guessed) that you become the centre figure. And still the song is reaching for the starry sky, like it wants all the worlds to bear witness. Stomps and claps accompany it, shaking the foundations of the mountains and rattling your soul.

But with a shout...it stops.

And from the darkness of the cave there’s a faint light.

Golden and green embers swirling around each other as they come nearer and you see the figure beneath. Tall, nearly naked save for a loincloth in the same fluttery material as your dress and a heavy cape adorned with fur trimmings. He wears a crown of gold, curved horns rising from his forehead in majestic contrast to the raven-black hair. Like you and all of your kin, his skin is blue and adorned with ridges that run the length of his limbs, cross his chest to make it seem even broader than it is, disappear beneath the cloth covering his crotch and thighs.

He is truly godly.

Loki son of Laufey.

A shiver races through you, flushing away some of the fear you had been a slave to since you were chosen as one of the possible maids. One of the possible brides.

Seeing how his gaze finds each of you, one by one, you are reminded of a predator seeking out its prey but you refuse to cower and instead force your shoulders back and your head high, meeting his gaze with an arched brow as if to dare him.

But rather than decide you are too much trouble, Loki grins at the challenge and walks up to you.

Towering over you, he encompasses your world, filling every edge of your senses with him. Pine, flint, frost. Magic. Somewhere beyond the two of you, a chanting has started, causing the very air to vibrate. But you are deaf, dumb, and blind. Staring up into his ruby eyes, you know your fate has been sealed in that moment.

Loki doesn’t take your hand to lead you away, doesn’t wait for your legs to move. He simply picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder and carries you away to the sound of joyous celebration, one hand on your hip to stabilize you and the other drifting up your thigh underneath the flimsy dress.

Long fingers finds your heat right away, trailing surprisingly lightly along your folds. He purrs and you realize that you already are drenched. Why? Your mind reels at the discovery but the answer must be simple: the weight you feel in your guts is no longer fear but anticipation.

Will he be gentle? Will he take his time to please you or is he going to do the deed and then dismiss you until morning for the remainder of the ritual?

You’ll know soon enough, because you’ve ventured far into the cave now to a place where torches and a fire burns, heating the space a bit. Furs are bunched on the ground, forming a large nest and it is here Loki lays you down, kneeling over you so he can take in the view.

Tossing his cape aside, you can’t help but admire the way his muscles move under his marked skin, the lines on his abdomen leading your gaze to his loincloth which he loosens and throws away too.

You’re untested in this and you cannot tear your eyes away from the hard length with its marks like rings around it. Pressing your legs together, the trepidation returns at the knowledge of where that is to fit – and you have barely even touched yourself!

Large hands find your knees, pushing them apart and the silk of the dress falls between your thighs, maintaining the inkling of modesty. But it seems to bother Loki and he leans over you, grabbing the fabric by your waist with both hands and tearing it asunder. Now you lay exposed and you don’t dare to move your hands to cover yourself.

He is drinking you up, ruby gaze roving your body. Sitting back, he motions for you to come to him and you do, allowing the scraps of the dress to slide off your arms as you move until you mirror his position but it isn’t enough and he reaches out, dragging you onto his lap until your breasts are squished against his chest and his cock is trapped between your bodies. Twitching.

You know what will happen. He will lift you, spear you, use you. The very idea makes you shiver and you swallow hard.

Perhaps he takes pity on you, because rather than doing any of those things, he cups your face and kisses you. Tryingly at first but when you naturally respond, he deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue past your lips and stealing your breath away. It is raw but not untamed and it eases your nerves a bit.

His other hands is on your back, between your shoulder blades and fingers splayed wide to support you but you need more to stay grounded and you latch on to his shoulders, feeling his marks under the pads of your fingers.

His mouth moves to your jaw, your throat, kissing and biting and making your arch your back. Your head falls back, you’re too lost in the moment to notices the hand that had been cupping your face pushes between you legs until a finger strokes your clit. Stock still, you don’t know what to do but Loki doesn’t seem to mind, he just keep lavishing you with kisses as his fingers work.

As jotuns you both are cold. Frost is in your veins. But for the first time something warm, like a fire, is being lit within you at the sensation between your legs.

Fingers reach further, gathering slick from your folds and spreading it...but always he returns to your clit, rolling it under a pad until you are shaking and gasping, nails digging into his shoulders so hard they almost might draw blood.

Suddenly he grabs you by the waist and lifts you, your quivering entrance right at the tip of his cock and still you are too dazed to be scared, just wanting more of the heat filling your body because you know, instinctively, that you were close to something.

He spears you, agonizingly slow. At first it’s blunt pressure but suddenly something snaps with a sharp pain, making you cry out – a cry that’s swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you again. Lifting you are bit before sinking deeper, he keeps moving you up and down and the pain changes, morphs into a dull pleasure as he stretches your walls.

When you are fully seated on his cock, he waits for your breathing to even out before finding your clit with a finger again. He brings you delight once more, kissing and humming encouraging as you begin to chase the feeling by rocking your hips.

This time, when you are at the precipice to the unknown, Loki doesn’t stop but keeps rubbing you even as your body seizes. The fire within you is fully ablaze, lighting up every corner of your body and searing your nerves deliciously in a flash. You can feel how your core is pulsing around him, your breath is stuck in your lungs, your back arched. And you love it.

When you get your bearings back, he has laid you down on the furs, a crooked smile on his lips and ruby eyes fixed on yours.

Then he pulls back and the absence of him deep within you makes you whimper. It’s like you were made for each other. You sigh in relief as he pushes back, filling you once more.

It’s a slow rhythm at first but deep. One where you get to feel every ridge on his cock from the markings and discover knew spots within yourself that stoke the fire when he drags over them. Your legs are wrapped around his hips, pulling him deeper, urging him to up the pace until the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the cave mixed with your squelching and the short breaths from both of you.

He brings you to a new flare like that, one that makes you cry out, and you know he has met his own end too as his hips stutter and he pushes deep one last time before stilling. His cock pulses within you and you can feel his seed, cold and soothing, filling you.

He doesn’t pull out, but simply rolls you both over and tucks you close to him, holding you tight as your shaking subsides.

“Drottningin mín,” he whispers.

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Dating Loki Would Include…..

• He flirts like it’s a weapon—sharp smile, silver tongue, every word tailored to make you flustered.

  But when you call him beautiful? He gets quiet. Almost shy. Like he doesn’t believe it yet.

• You’re the only one allowed to see him undone—crown off, hair loose, voice low. When he’s with you, he’s just Loki.

• He gifts you enchanted trinkets: a ring that glows when you’re in danger, a pendant that warms with your heartbeat, a mirror that always reflects your true self.

• You find out he leaves glamoured illusions of himself to follow you when you travel alone—not out of control, but out of protection.

  “You think I’d let you walk Midgard alone without a shadow watching your back?”

• When he’s thinking deeply, he braids his fingers into yours absentmindedly. You’ve become his grounding spell.

• Arguments are… intense. Words like daggers. But apologies are poetry. He will kneel, kiss your palm, and whisper,

  “You are the only soul I kneel for willingly. I’m sorry, my storm.”

• Midnight conversations often spiral into things he’s never told anyone:

  how the stars whispered to him as a child, how Asgard never quite felt like home, how you do.

• He keeps a journal. You find it once—full of sketches of your eyes, notes about your laugh, a spell for keeping your dreams sweet.

• When you fall asleep beside him, he traces constellations on your skin with his fingertips. And sometimes he says,

  “Even if the Nine Realms fall, I would still choose you.”

[societyfolklore]

Buzzing Skin

Title: Buzzing Skin

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, explicit sexual content, lotus position sex, overstimulation (f & m), creampie, sweat, slick, body fluids, deep kissing, filthy talk, possessiveness, mutual desperation, slightly unhinged levels of need NO BETA!!!!! Hell no second read over LOL

Word Count: 736 words

A/N: Want to start putting on more drabbles for everyone, but Loki is at the top of that list. Is that something people might want?

You didn’t know who started moving again. Maybe you never stopped.

Loki’s cock was still inside you, still hard, buried to the hilt, and you were still in his lap legs tangled around his waist, arms clinging to his shoulders, your body shaking as you ground down helplessly onto him.

It was instinct now. Muscle memory. Addiction.

Neither of you could stop. Not when it felt like this.

He was soaked with sweat, the long strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, to your cheek, to your neck where he kept pressing open-mouthed kisses between gasps. His back was damp beneath your nails, his skin slick and burning. You were just as wrecked, hair plastered to your fingers as your hand stayed in his hair, thighs trembling with aftershocks, your body flushed and twitching from too many orgasms.

Still, he moved.

Not fast, but deep. Slow, dragging thrusts that made you sob quietly into his skin, your hips bucking despite how sensitive you were. The wet squelch of your cunt echoed in the space between you, filthy and relentless, his come dripping out of you and smearing between your thighs and his lap, making each movement even messier.

“Gods,” Loki rasped, forehead pressed to yours, his voice unsteady, nearly delirious. “You’re still so tight. You’re clenching me, sweet girl-do you feel that?”

You did. You felt everything.

Every slow, grinding roll of his cock inside you. Every twitch. Every drag along your swollen walls, the stretch of him still making your whole body tremble. You were oversensitive, overstimulated, overwhelmed, and still it wasn’t enough.

He kissed you again, sloppy, open-mouthed, tongues tangling, moaning into each other like the only thing keeping you alive was the taste of the other. You tasted like sweat and salt and Loki’s spend, and you could feel your own slick smeared across your inner thighs, coating both of your skin.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered against your lips, broken and reverent. “Gods, I should, I should stop but ugh I can’t. Not when your cunt keeps pulling me back in like this. Not when it feels like I’m going to live inside you.”

His hands were everywhere. One gripped your ass, kneading it to tilt your hips into a sharper grind. The other slid between your bodies, fingers finding your soaked clit-swollen, aching-and rubbed slow, tight circles that made your thighs jerk around his waist.

You cried out, voice cracked and desperate, and he growled into your mouth.

“Come again,” he ordered, voice low and harsh. “I know you can. I know you’re right there, trembling for it. Don’t fucking hold back-I want it, I want to feel it.”

Your eyes rolled back as your body locked, muscles seizing around him, and your orgasm hit like heat lightning, sharp, bright, violent. You sobbed, legs tightening around him, nails dragging down his back as your pussy fluttered and spasmed around his cock, milking him again, again….

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Loki gasped, eyes wide, pupils blown. “You feel so good when you cum I can’t-gods-”

He snapped his hips up once, then again, and then he was spilling into you with a stuttering groan, voice pitched low and needy as he held you close and poured every last drop inside your pulsing cunt. His cock twitched, throbbing deep, and you both shivered with the raw intensity of it.

And yet, again he didn’t pull out.

Neither of you even thought about it.

You were still clinging to him, your face buried in his neck, lips brushing sweat-slick skin, your whole body still spasming with aftershocks. His hands cradled your waist, your back, holding you together, thumbs stroking your skin like he needed the connection to stay sane.

“Such a messy girl,” he whispered, voice distant, dazed. “Still leaking around me. Look at us…”

You couldn’t.

All you could do was pant into his neck and hold him tighter as his hips started rocking again. Shallow. Gentle. Just enough to keep it going. Just enough to make your clit twitch and your thighs jerk.

“Loki-” you whimpered, half-plea, half-warning.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s too much. I don’t care. I want to feel you until there’s nothing left of us but sweat and cum and this.”

Another kiss. Another slow thrust. Another wave building.

And you realized, he was right.

You didn’t want to stop.

You wanted to drown in it.

[xalphafox]

I be collecting them one by one like Yu-Gi-Oh!s

Respectfully I could fix them ALL if I had the chance and love them the way they need to be loved. My only type is silver-haired broken assholes and dark-haired charismatic beauties

[sonderinghiraeth]

I love a wishy-washy Loki

I don't know what it is about me, and I'm not yucking anyone's yum, but I can't stand it when Loki is being sweet to the reader by like, chapter four. It just feels so unrealistic sometimes I have to close out of the fic, so here's some headcanons of the Loki I envision.

He never wanted to like you; it was just something that seemed like it came overnight. An elephant in the room. Perhaps it was a hazed over dream that he can't quite remember aside from the afterglow of emotions it left him with, but by God, now every time he saw you, it felt like he needed an excuse to get away. He didn't want these feelings, so of course, the first thing he knew to do was to run.

Running turns to ignoring, because no matter how fast he ran, it seemed like it just looped back to you. So now he was trying out bullying you, maybe trying to get you to hate him, to spoil the feelings. He hated that you were always just as sharp with the tongue as he was, and he especially hated how it always made him rather uncomfortably hard below the belt now.

You would think this man gets paid for vacillating. Vacillator by Ethel Cain is his theme song. He has little pockets of vulnerability. Perhaps you're sitting in your bay window together after a long night of partying with the Avengers, just staring out the window. He ticks his jaw, refusing to look at you. "I don't know how you do it." He would say, causing you to quirk a brow. "How you make me so red with anger, yet I keep crawling back like a damn starved dog."

And the look in his eyes when he finally did look at you gave away everything. They were so much softer, much more tired than the act he would possess around the others. Yet, the next morning, he would be right back to donning that mental armor, if not laying on the antagonization of you tenfold in order to take back his soft comments.

And God forbid you ever actually bring up those comments. He'll belittle you to the bone for even having the nerve to think that you were anything other than some bothersome mortal to him. You were a time pass, an eye roll, and occasionally, if you were lucky, somewhat of a lukewarm acquaintance.

Yeah, let's not forget if you're human, he is definitely using that as his main device of denial. How could he, a God, like someone like you? He gets sick at even the thought of it, but he can't quite discern if he gets more sick from the thought that he likes a Midgardian or the thought that you are only a tiny thread in the giant tapestry of his life.

He totally goes searching for an apple of Idunn to keep safe until he finally gathers the nerve to get over his emotional constipation and tell you how much he can't get you out of his head.

The worst thing is his love language is definitely acts of service, so he bends through multiple hoops to nonchalantly find out what your favorite candy, food, etc. is. Say there's a candy bowl in the main room, and you're both picking through it. He'll say, "You mortals and your need for tooth decay, I bet your favorite candy is something like those stupid chocolate pills." (Totally not talking about M&Ms.) Trying to get it out of you, and when he does, there conveniently starts becoming an increased supply of that candy everywhere in the tower.

He finds excuses to touch you. Something like the collar of your jacket is popped up, and he'll sneer, beckoning you over. "Come here, you fool." He'll mutter, jerking your collar back in place to pitifully play off annoyance, as if he doesn't leave his hand there a second too long. "Can't even wear clothes properly."

It would probably take something absolutely catastrophic happening to you in order for him to finally confess. Like you come back from a mission within an inch of your life, coated in your own blood, carefully slung over Steve's shoulder, as Tony is barking orders right and left in the infirmary floor of the tower to get you an emergency surgery underway. Loki's in the midst of it all, staring at your limp body in utter horror. He refuses to leave for days, even when Thor and Tony insist he's scaring the poor nurses Tony called in.

And when you do wake up, he almost seems angry. In fact, he's pissed. He grips your hand just tight enough for you to seethe, but when you go to cuss him, you look up to see his eyes tear-rimmed. "You damn brat." He would mutter, bringing the top of your wrist to ghost his lips. "You keep me up day and night, you plague not only my thoughts but my dreams, and then you run off and almost die? Am I nothing but laughable?"

And even after he confesses, you're left in some sort of situationship. It's even worse when Loki refuses to acknowledge it even happened, blaming it on the grocery list of pills Tony had you doped up on.

But now you sleep together. He finds himself in your bed every night, climbing in and lying on the edge at first as if you were a plague patient he's been paid to sleep with. But when you wake up from a routine dream at four in the morning, his arm is clinging to you to mold your entire frame into his.

GIVE ME EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED LOKI OR GIVE ME DEATH

[ashdreams2023]

Loki would hate modern diets so much, because what the fuck are you on about!?

Loki: why are you not eating dessert?

Reader: oh I can’t have it I already reached my calories for the day

Loki: but it’s your favorite!?

Reader: maybe another time or on my cheat day

Loki: *confused and very displeased*

[pynkuro]

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 !blurb

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: You and Loki head to the pool

Warnings: Nothing! Slightly proof read

A/N: So I saw Marvel Rivals is releasing a new Loki skin ( fav game at the moment ) and I LOVE it, had to write a quick little blurb... there will be a part two!!!

part 2

.✧˖°✧˖°

“Loki, you’re going to get hot in that, just take it off.” You say as you walk side-by-side with your fiancée towards the pool located on the top floor of where you lived.

Loki huffed, rolling his eyes, “I’m fine darling, it’s just a coverup.”

You gave him a once over, his outfit to go to the pool was a bit… dramatic. A large green sunhat, red sunglasses, an overly big alligator necklace, gold rings and bracelets, a pair of slides and the tied robe that made you sweat just looking at it.

You didn’t mind though, this was your Loki, overdramatic and sassy, which apparently included not just his attitude but his outfits too but you loved him for it.

Finally making it to the pool, you grabbed two lounge chairs, laying your towels across them and unloading your bag that was filled with snacks, lotions, a speaker and the book you were currently reading.

You took your cover-up off and pulled down your shades to shade your eyes. You laid on your stomach getting comfortable, “Can you put some sunscreen on me, please?” You call out to Loki, turning your attention to your book.

“Of course.” Loki called out. You heard some shuffling before you felt his presence behind you. You could hear the sound of the bottle being opened and finally you felt his hands rub in the sunscreen.

You let out a content sigh, Loki’s naturally big cold hands started cooling your hot body as he massaged in the sunscreen on your back and your shoulders in a soothing pattern.

“Does that feel good, darling?” Loki murmured close to your ear with a smirk, of course he knew the effects he had on you, he could read you like a book.

You nodded, eyes closed, enjoying the relaxing moment, disregarding the book that was in your hand.

“Good to know… all done.” Loki said devilishly as he pulled his hands back from you, he watched you flip around ready to scold him for stopping so suddenly but you stopped when you caught what he was wearing underneath his robe; nothing but a green speedo, everything he had on previously was still on.

You raised both eyebrows, letting out a laugh, as you got a good look at him.

Loki tilted his head to the side, “What, is my attire not to satisfaction?”

You nodded with little giggles, “No you look very handsome my king.”

Loki nodded in agreement with a large smirk, his ego inflating, he then strode over to his lounge chair, laying on his back, arms folded behind his head, eyes closing behind his sunglasses, “My turn.” He had nodded towards the sunscreen bottle.

You nodded your head, a few more giggles leaving you before straddling his lap. You grabbed the sunscreen bottle, squirting a dollop in your hand before, rubbing it along his chest, “Anything for you my king."

There will be a part 2 to this, it will be smut ¬‿¬

[loveablevileness]

Y/N, gesturing to Kid Loki: You're a kid.

Y/N, referring to Siege Loki: He's a MAN.

Y/N, pointing into the darkness: THAT is a twink.

AOA Loki, dropping down from the ceiling: THERE'S NO WAY YOU SAW ME.

[pinkinkpetals]

Reverence

Loki x Reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ In an alternate universe where you and Loki are on the run from the TVA, the two of you find refuge and comfort in the quiet of a safe house—and each other’s arms. Inspiration from CAS’s Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby and my love for gentle men :)

Disclaimers: 18+ mdni, tasteful smut, NOTHING EXPLICIT, mutual pining, implied slow morning sex, forced proximity?, established sexual relationship, consent kink if you squint, soft love, Loki yearning :) idk i was going for a Song of Achilles smut vibe iykwim

Word count: 1.8k

It's early when you wake up. The kind of early where everything is still a hazy blue—the sky, the sheets, the light spilling through the bedroom windows. Still, quiet, and untouched by the harsh reality daylight brings.

It's been six weeks since you last saw a minuteman's baton—eight since you escaped the TVA and their unjust claims. You found this safe house two days ago, somewhere in between 1952 and a time neglected from their supervision. Every passing minute presses down on your chest with a sense of impending doom—a death sentence.

You push these spiraling thoughts into the back of your mind and exhale through your nose, shifting under the protection of the sheets. You're warm. Not from the covers, but from him.

Loki's arm is draped around your waist, his chest pressed to your back, the steady rise and fall of his breath moving through you like the ocean tide. His palm rests just beneath your ribs, long fingers relaxed but steady. You don't open your eyes, you don't need to yet.

All of the feelings from last night surface to the forefront of your mind, dusting your cheeks in a warm pink, a smile spreading across your face. The velvet slide of Loki's voice, the ghost of his mouth at your jaw, the space between you gone. It still doesn't feel real.

Loki's hand shifts—slow and absentmindedly—grazing the bare skin of your stomach. You hum softly, just loud enough for him to hear. He stirs behind you, but doesn't speak right away. His nose brushes the curve of your shoulder, and his breath is warm against your skin.

"Still here?" He murmurs, voice slightly rough with sleep. You respond with a soft mhm, and he holds you a little tighter. "Good."

Eventually, you shift beneath the sheets to turn around and face him. You're met with a sight that makes your heart nearly swell out of your chest.

Loki's hair is a mess, his eyes soft. His left cheek presses gently against the pillow, but he doesn't seem to mind. It's the most human you've ever seen him—no walls, no tricks. Just Loki.

You smile. "You're staring."

"You're breathtaking," he says softly. You blink, taken aback by his unexpected reply.

He lifts a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the backs of his fingers brushing your cheek like you're something fragile.

"You say that like you mean it," you whisper. He leans in, forehead resting against yours. "I've never meant anything more."

You let your fingers rest on his chest, right over where his heart beats. It's quiet under your hand, but there. Steady. Real.

"Last night didn't feel real," you murmur. His lips quirk. "That's because you kissed me first."

You scoff, laughing into his throat. "You kissed me."

"I distinctly recall restraint," he teases. "You, however, were quite—"

You pinch his side gently and he gasps. "Alright—I yeild."

"God of Mischief, brought low by domesticity," you say mockingly.

"Mmm." His voice turns soft again. "Don't tempt me to keep you in this bed all day."

It's said like a joke, but his fingers find your hip beneath the blankets, his thumb lazily brushing the soft skin below your waist. The touch is slow. Intentional. Not exactly pushing. Just... asking.

Your body answers before your mouth does, curling a little closer. He exhales through his nose, pleased. And then he kisses your temple—slow and reverent. The kind of kiss that doesn't ask for anything back. You close your eyes in admiration.

His hand doesn't move right away. Just rests there, palm warm on skin. You feel him breathing against your collarbone now, the slope of his body fitting to yours like it was made for this—made for you.

His voice, low and brushed with sleep:

"May I...?"

You nod before he finishes. And maybe that's the dangerous thing, you suppose, because he second you say yes, he buries his face in your neck. You feel his mouth there—soft, open, barely grazing your skin, like he's studying the shape of you by touch alone. Like he wants to memorize you.

You tilt your chin instinctively, giving him more access. And gods, does he take it—not with a greedy heart. A sinner worshipping his divine creator.

He kisses the spot just beneath your jawline. Then lower. A trail so faint you'd think you imagined it if not for the way your breath falters. You feel his lips curve up against your skin.

"So sensitive," he murmurs. "You talk too much,” you quip. His laugh settles somewhere deep in your chest.

He shifts, then—presses you onto your back with care, like the weight of him might break you. But his body hovers instead, propped on an elbow, the blanket slipping lower. You feel his gaze sweep over you.

Loki looks down at you like you're some relic he was never meant to find, let alone hold. His hand grazes your ribcage, eyes searching your face. "Is this alright?"

You nod again, slower this time. "Yeah."

He kisses you—this time deeper. But not rushed. His mouth moves with purpose, like he's trying to tell you something through it—something language can't carry. You feel it in the way his hand curls at your waist, in the way his body tilts toward yours like he can't stand the distance. Your fingers knot into his hair. His breath catches when your knee brushes his hip, your legs no longer careful.

Nothing about this is frantic, it's deliberate. Laced with something slow burning, something whole. It's about wanting. Wanting to be close enough to feel each other, enough to stop pretending this connection is fragile.

You kiss him like you're allowed to. He kisses you like he never expected this to be real.

Your legs tangle.

His fingers tangle in your hair.

The world disappears a little. And maybe that's why it feels so good—because in this stolen stretch of the morning, nothing exists but him.

And you.

And the quiet between.

But then—his hand stills. His breath catches. You open your eyes.

Loki's just staring at you. Not lust drunk. Not quite overwhelmed.

You blink. "Is everything okay?"

His voice comes soft. Barely audible. "I think this is the first time I've touched someone... without wearing a mask."

That settles between you like something holy. You reach up, fingertips skimming his cheek, as if checking for some imaginary mask settled over his face. "You're not wearing one now?"

He shakes his head, a single chuckle escaping his lips in a huff of air. You kiss the corner of his mouth, so gently it's almost a promise.

"I like you like this," you whisper. A small sound leaves him—something like relief and disbelief wrapped into one. His forehead lowers to yours, his breath shaky.

"If we stay like this," he says, "I won't ever want to leave."

"We don't have to yet."

"But we will."

You nod. "I know."

Another kiss—this one slower, longer, full of everything you can't say yet.

He lifts his head, just enough to see your face. And you see him too—really see him. There's heat in his eyes, but there's also awe. There's something almost... sacred in how carefully he holds you. Like he doesn't know how the universe has allowed this. Allowed you.

His hand moves—gliding up your side with reverence. He learns your shape by touch, not out of lust, but devotion. Like a scholar memorizing scripture. Like you're sacred.

Your breath hitches when his palm finds the curve of your breast. You arch slightly into him, wordless encouragement. And that's all it takes—he exhales through his nose again, tension slipping from his shoulders as though you just gave him permission to exist.

You pull him closer. Not for heat, but for nearness. For communion.

When his hand skims higher, it's with infinite patience. Testing, retreating, returning. He explores like someone who's never been allowed to before—never wanted to so much. The hunger is there, but it's tempered by something older. Something deeper. Respect. Devotion.

Your lips meet again. Slower. Messier, this time, but still soft. You feel the way his body begins to shift over yours, but still he waits, hovers, one arm braced above you, one hand steady on your ribs, grounding himself in your breath.

Then, when your hand finds the back of his neck and your legs pull him in—then he moves.

His hips meet yours in a hush of heat. The intimacy is staggering and you both go still. Just for a moment, to just feel it.

Your heart. His breath.

The sheer weight of being known.

You tilt your chin, mouth brushing the line of his jaw. He groans—quietly—and buries his face in your neck, his lips finding your pulse point like he needs to feel that you're real.

"Okay?" he breathes.

You nod. "Yes. Yes."

So he begins to move. Barely. Just enough for steady paced friction, for rhythm, for the slow ache of closeness to bloom into something fuller. It's sacred and quiet and breathtaking all at once. His breath fans hot across your throat. Your hands press gently into the muscle of his back, skin to skin.

You rock together, wrapped up in nothing but body and soul and shared breath and something you don't dare name. And even as your bodies climb, chasing the hush of pleasure through the press of hip and thigh and reverent touch—still, Loki watches your face. Still, he slows when your eyes flutter. Still, he kisses you like a vow.

When you reach your release, it's not thunder. It's sunlight. It's everything that's been buried between you finally allowed to breathe. You unravel completely beneath him, and he joins you.

After, he lowers himself beside you slowly, as if the earth might drop out from beneath him if he moved too fast. When he pulls you into his arms again, you let yourself be held. His hand rests flat on your back, the other pressing against the warmth of your flushed cheeks. You can feel his heart, still racing.

You don't say anything for a long time. You just breathe—you just are. When he finally speaks, its out of reverence.

"I never thought it could be like this," he whispers, mouth against your temple.

You turn your head, eyes meeting his. Your lips brush his with a touch as soft as heaven.

"Me either."

Notes: hey guys I really hope you enjoyed this was my first time ever writing something “freaky” I won’t do this often but when I started writing this I was ovulating and I just find something so spiritual and artistic in sensuality and hopefully you guys will see this more as art than smut 🥲 anyways ily so big (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[fromdove]

seeing my man with his canonical love interest 💔💔💔💔

[mischiefmaker615]

Like You Mean It (Loki Love Story) Ch.8

Summary: You accidently teleport into a book- not knowing it's smut and come face to face with Loki who is very much convinced on keeping you from returning home

Rated: R *dark warning*(DARK ELEMENTS!)

Theme Song/Inspiration: "Like You Mean It" by Steven Rodriguez

You never realized how fast you could run until you had to have your life practically threatened by the god of horniness and psychotic punishments. He was dripping with rage and you didn’t necessarily have to look at him to know. He was on your tail in a second before you took a sudden turn before he could reach out.

You weren’t sure exactly where you were going, but so far there was no dead ends so that was good. The scary thing was that you actually lost Loki- and in all your books with the playful themes of hide and seek, you knew he was probably one step ahead with his illusions. Every turn you made, you risked slowing down to not smack into him- but he never showed. Not even a hint of his magic in sight.

Your heart beat fast while your eyes darted everywhere, ignoring guards that yelled out concerns when you darted past them, nor to the maids who quickly dodged to the side so their baskets of laundry wouldn’t topple over. Where was he? By the grace, you managed to somehow find yourself in sight of the palace front doors, seeing how they stood maybe fifteen feet tall with guards spread around it.

‘’Y/N!’’

Loki’s bark was sharp enough to have you grow still, almost like your body was already trained to listen than your mind. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing how he didn’t run but more so stormed towards you with his nails digging into his palms, his eyes as sharp as daggers and his cape spreading behind him like he was on some type of runway. He made mad look hot.

However, you enjoyed living and switched your eyes back in front of you, quickly trying to think of a solution because there was no way the guards were going to open it for you with the prince there. Fortunately, and unfortunately your brain came up with a solution.

Ever seen that movie: Snow White and the Huntsman? Where she’s fleeing the castle and slides into the gutter hole that leads to the ocean, aka her escape? Yes.. well.. you prayed this would work because it’s going to look hella embarrassing if it didn’t. you hardly wasted a second to see how close blue-eyed wet dream was behind you before you dashed forward, startling the guards with your now sudden appearance in eye sight.

‘’hey- stop!” one of them shouted, some gripping their spears while others took caution steps forward with a hand extended, noticing your obvious distraught.

‘’stop her!” Loki ordered just as you had approached the drainage hole in the wall beside the doors and slid like you were trying to make it to home base.

Your legs got burned with the dip of the stone but you managed to slide down and dropped, right into darkness and water. You came up for air, regretting it instantly when you coughed and gagged at the smell. The only light you received was from where you fell from above, and the light in front of you where the water slowly drifted towards its final destination. Your dress was soaked, you didn’t even want to know what you looked like and you could hear Loki shouting orders from above you at the men probably hella confused on what had just happened.

Either way, you knew they would come looking for you and you couldn’t stay in the sewage drain for long; they’d either come here first, or you’d puke.

Gathering a bit of your dress to relieve some of the weight now it held, you trudged through the water, shivering at the different textures that ran past your legs and towards the light. It was a bit of a stretch, no doubt it running a little along the city because Asgard was not going to have this smell lingering by the front gates. It took maybe five whole minutes before the hole before you began getting bigger, indicating you were almost at the entrance.

Fresh air was welcomed while your hand raised to shield your eyes to the sunlight, blinking before you were quickly back to accustomed to it. You stood in what looked like a running river, it flowing towards the forests overhead and probably over the waterfall of the realm. Dare you say Asgard was flat- at least that’s what it looked like from the movie but regardless, it was kinda gross thinking all this shit was floating in space somewhere.

The sound of normality came overhead, making you look up to see that up a bit of a muddy hill, you’d exit the forest and back to civilization- the city from what it sounded like. With heavy footsteps, you pulled your legs through the mud and up the hill, your hands grasping onto trunks and branches for balance before more of the city came into view.

It was like entering a village within a forest, but the closer you got, the forest was probably puny compared to the size of the city. Buildings were small at first, shops no doubt before they began to grow taller the farther your eyes would strain. Asgard.. gold, glorious, and beautiful..

Unlike you who literally looked like you had crawled out of the sewer.

You trudged through the city, receiving looks beyond compare but you appreciated people’s honesty- even if it was looks of disgust. You would give them as well if you had someone soaking wet, smelling like garbage, walking through the wannabe El Dorado. Your arms hugged yourself, trying not to feel bothered while you also tried figuring out where you were going.

Probably as far away from the palace as possible would be a start, because you knew what awaited you if a certain someone found you. Youd have to move quick as well, the guards probably entered the city by now with orders to search for you.. you’d need a disguise..

Your eyes began darting everywhere, seeing a few clothing shops but you already knew you’d be kicked out with the way you smelled. Would they even bother if they noticed you were wearing a slave outfit? As simple as it was, you wouldn’t doubt people understood symbolism. Your eyes eventually caught sight of a flower shop and you got an idea.

Flowers needed water, so you could try to figure out how to get a rinse off before you’d handle the cloths situation. Being smelly was one thing, being wet was another. You were sure someone would take pity if you just told them you had a little accident in the river or something- like you were trying to save a kitten or whatever.. if they even had those.

A bell rang the moment you opened the door, followed by the overwhelming scent of every flower that probably grew on Asgard. The shop reminded you of a cottage- a mix of wood and cobblestone being the base of the walls while the rooms itself relied on natural lighting. Lanterns hung ready overheard for nightfall and the furniture was barely existent to make room for its floral arrangements. So.. a cottage and a greenhouse had a baby.

The wood creaked with each slow step you took, honestly debating on if it’s best to be seen or not. Did they get their source of water from the river you crawled from? No- to much involved with the sewage, there’s no way they would use that to water plants. Unless alien plants were way different- you would hope to find the shopkeeper to direct you to maybe some sort of sink? Tub? Did they have wells here in the golden rich city?

‘’I’ll be with you in a moment-‘’ a man’s voice called out from the other side of the large room; your eyes almost having missed him amongst the floral if he hadn’t waved at you.

He was young, blond and cute. Fit like one of your stereotypical gym rats who looked like they lived off protein powder. Still, he was cute and gave off more of an innocent vibe.

‘’yeah- no problem’’ you cut yourself short, hoping your Midgardian speech that didn’t necessarily scream elegant like an Asgardian give you away. Luckily, he seemed to be to busy with another customer in the room, making you creep a little bit more and turn sideways to make sure you didn’t disturb any stretched out branches.

‘’alright I’ll be having them delivered this evening, all picked fresh from this morning your highness.’’ The young man beamed with the best customer voice you had ever heard while he leaned his palms all sexy-like upon the counter.

Highness?

Your eyes squinted towards the woman that stood before him- dressed in one of the fanciest dresses you had ever seen of gold and blue that complimented her light braided hair. The corner of your eyes had your steps slow down, recognizing the guards that stood posted almost at all sides of the room- primarily close to the shopkeeper who dressed more farmer like compared to who he was serving.

Oh shit- is that..

The woman turned right before you could even think about hiding, let alone running out. you didn’t miss the small frown on her soft features when her eyes swept over your appearance and the guards shifted a bit closer to prepare to follow. She just stood there, her hands playing with the fabric of her sleeves while her stance remained relaxed all the same. She was mildly judging you but the way her lips pulled up into a welcoming smile had you almost forget the guards were here.

‘’my dear.. are you alright?”

Queen Frigga..

Snow White and the Huntsman (Gutter Reference)

Tag List: @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @eleniblue @jaidenhawke @amfilth @dunklersteinengel @blitzy93 @mischeveousscamp @blaze-the-idiot @mari-800 @horrormovielover00 @imaginetheskies @angelofthorr @mencantaleer @kathren1sky-blog @tinytroublemaker-blog-blog @mona-has-dreams @soulpiercing @fire-in-her-veinz @sassybearfire @tinytroublemaker-blog-blog @oziozzioslo @tinytroublemaker-blog-blog

[rana030]

Pov: you're reading fanfiction and suddenly y/n starts to call him daddy

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Therapist: And how does that make you feel?

Bucky: Violent.

Y/N: Hungry.

Loki (smirking): Horny.

Sam: I need a new support group.