#Loki smut
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kathren1sky-blog · 2 days ago
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This one and the Choke are my favourites....
Like a Queen [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a dirty, praise-filled railing. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Mirrors. Language. Established relationship. Smut. (w/c 1.2k)
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"Urgh, gods..." Loki slurs as his head falls back.
A year. It's been a year. But every time you see that face lost in the pleasure only you can give it's like the first time. In the mirror at the foot of the bed, the hard angles of Loki's jawline set like an anvil. He tips his chin to the ceiling and sinks so deep, so slow, it's like he never wants it to end.
Your best lingerie clings to damp skin, the modest slit in your crotchless panties tugging against Loki's thick cock. Slow, liquid thrusts slip against your walls and slurp when he circles his hips; hands guiding your ass against him. He teases himself at the entrance while you moan his name before easing back in with a groan.
"What did I do..." he breathes as his sex-drunk face falls forward and he meets your eyes in the mirror. "What did I do to deserve this sweet, perfect cunt?"
You clench your fingers against the bedsheets, swaying on all-fours. Loki slips his cock from your pussy and slides it against your throbbing clit, still swollen and humming from the worship of his mouth.
He watches with dark fascination as you start to squirm at the halt of his movements, knuckles whitening. “Well?” he asks again with playful menace.
"I'm just made for you I guess," you sigh as his large palm skates down the ridges of your spine, settling at the base. There’s no getting any sense out of you at times like this; he should know that by now. And he does.
"You are,” he growls approvingly, rubbing the curve of your ass. “Made to take me like a Queen. Made to take my cock like a Queen; made to fuck me like a Queen.” Queen.
The word sends a thrill down your spine that blossoms new fire in your pussy and you clench tighter around the tip of his cock. Loki pushes back in just when you’re tightest. “Norns,” he gasps, half-lidded eyes smouldering down from his station.
There’s something about when he fucks you from behind that’s utterly primal. Like he’s mating you. Like you’re a bitch in heat and he’s powerless to resist the scent he craves; the urge beating through him like the drums of war.
He’s not a god in moments like this. He’s just a man that wants to shake you up and fuck you out and love you harder with every filthy, curse-laden groan from his throat. “Talk to me,” you plead as you sit back against him, inhaling the fresh sweat clinging to his hair, his cock never leaving the grip of your cunt. Where he belongs. Your fingers skate up his cheek. His heartbeat thumps between your shoulder-blades, the flat planes of his chest and stomach pressed tight to your back. Your thighs spread as he readjusts on the mattress, guiding you down to the root of him with a rumble of pleasure. Loki moves hair from one side of your neck, placing a messy kiss on the curve and pulling the flimsy strap of your lingerie between his teeth. It stings your heated skin with a tight thwack.
“You love when I talk,” he goads low and filthy in your ear. “You love when I talk, and you love when I fuck.” “Only me,” you whine. Loki chuckles darkly. “Only you, my Queen.” His thrusts make your body rise and you lose yourself in the fullness of your walls fluttering to the rhythmic lilt of his hips. Loki’s hands massage your breasts, palming upwards, pinching your pebbled nipples as he does it. “No one,” he groans as you reach between your legs and graze his balls, “no one has ever carnally eviscerated me like you can.” They tighten beneath your gentle touch, drawing lazily against the velvet skin.
“When I fuck you… all realms cease to be,' he chokes, 'Only b-burning worlds and…f-fuck, erupting galaxies when I…”
He jolts against your ass, a hiss searing between his teeth. “When I see you trussed up for me like a gift,” he pants, tugging at the flimsy lace cupping your breasts, “when I feel your pussy grip me like wax on a finger.” A wet groan erupts from your mouth into his and Loki’s fingers move to your clit, rubbing slow, wet circles just the way you like it. His kiss is hungry and dark and dangerously loving. He still tastes like your cum. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he mutters as climax tightens in your belly, tensing your thighs, “is your face when you come undone for me.” You whimper, the hand wrapped around his neck clutching at long waves of his sex-damp hair. “Yes, my beautiful queen,” he praises, unable to keep the tremble of impending orgasm from his voice as his thrusts become heavy. “Take me, use me; use my cock like no other in the nine realms can. Give me what I need.” “Not yet,” you beg and he smiles against your cheek. The mirror shows what the two of you are: sweaty and unbearably perfect together. He’s huge behind you; a colossus of muscle and lean lines and luminous skin. His dark hair hangs against your shoulders, his exquisite profile nuzzling into your neck. The god of mischief works one expert hand between your legs, the other grasping against your chest like you might vanish as his powerful thighs pump slowly beneath you. Obsessed. He’s obsessed. Another threat of orgasm rises in your centre. Loki groans loudly and his shoulders tense as you clench, feeling the thick vein running down his length throb. “I think you may take me a little too well,” he chokes as your grip on his hair tightens.
A series of feral grunts burst from Loki’s throat at the smallest increase of speed against his cock. He's ready to burst. Wetness coats the inside of your thighs, his knuckles, his mouth, your fingers. You cover the hand working against your clit, feeling his fingers while they lightly strum you over the edge. He knows your body like it's his own. “Loki,” you moan like a whore, head falling back to his shoulder.   “I’m yours,” he whispers, breath catching. The hand cupping your chest flies to your stomach and he pulls you closer with a stuttering gasp. The flat of his abdomen curls to your back: sweat sticking, curses thundering, stars bursting in front of your eyes. He erupts with a long, guttural groan that shakes the bed. The swell of his cum is immediate; squeezing against the tight throb of his mighty cock and the final, fluttering spasms of your cunt. You see it glistening in the mirror, dripping down the thick root still buried inside you and pearling at the curve of his balls. Loki’s mouth fastens to your cheek like he’s trying to eat you - and maybe he is. His pants are hot against the skin as he slides down your face, top lip dragging before his forehead comes to rest. “What did I do to deserve…?” he pants quietly as he feathers weak kisses along the angle of your jaw. You silence the impending question with a kiss, pulling him closer. “I’m your Queen,” you say with utterly feigned humility. Loki bites his lip, glancing to the mirror. His eyes drop to the sight of him still sheathed deep in your pussy, a thick spindle of cum dangling to the mattress. “You are,” he whispers lovingly in your ear, eyes nailed to yours in the reflection. "Always."
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♥️x
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cleo-fox · 2 months ago
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Safehouse
Summary: This mission wasn't supposed to go as badly as it has. There wasn't supposed to be a blizzard, you weren't supposed to get snowed in at a remote cabin, and there certainly was supposed to be more than one bed. And none of this would be a problem were it not for your completely irrational, ill-advised crush on Loki.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, p in v sex, fingering, workplace crushes, There Was Only One Bed.
A/N: I didn't think this was going to be the next fic I posted, but this has been 95% finished for over a year and I just figured out the final 5% in the last 72 hours. Don't ask me how my brain works because I truly don't know sometimes. Also, perhaps after you read this, you will think "hey, I would like to read another fic that involves railing Loki in the middle of a blizzard." Well, my friend, then you should read Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark by the great @loki-cees-all because not only is there a blizzard and one bed, it is also beautifully written.
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You didn’t expect this mission to go as badly as it has.
It was supposed to be quick, one of those tidy in and out things that almost feels routine—or at least as routine as things ever get in this line of work.
No one counted on a fucking blizzard, though.
It comes upon you suddenly enough to feel suspicious—one moment, it’s slate grey skies and barely a puff of wind and the next thing you know, the wind is howling and whipping at your coat and you can barely see three feet ahead of you.
“What the fuck is this?” you shout at Loki, who looks just as perplexed as you feel. “I thought you said the radar was clear.”
“It was,” he says, frowning. He taps at the screen of the device, an overly complicated piece of tech that you’d delegated to him because Tony’s brief training sessions had made your eyes glaze over. Still, though, you know enough to tell that you’re looking at a weather map and there’s absolutely no sign of the storm that’s howling around you.
An uneasy feeling is bubbling in the pit of your stomach and prickling up the back of your neck. Everything about this feels wrong.
“We need to find shelter,” says Loki. You know him well enough to tell that he’s pretending to be really calm and unbothered because he doesn’t want you to know that something’s wrong. Normally, you’d call him out on that bullshit, but the creepy crawly feeling running up your spine coupled with the storm that doesn’t seem to exist has you itching to get inside as soon as possible.
“There’s a safehouse just west of this hill,” he continues, tapping at the screen.
“Let’s go, then.”
The trek to the safehouse is fairly demanding, even though the distance is short. You’re walking straight into the wind, which seems to grow stronger and more biting by the minute. The snow under your feet grows slick with ice and your pace slows to a crawl, though even that doesn’t stop you from slipping.
The safehouse turns out to be an unassuming cabin that’s a little too shabby to be rustic; in the biting wind and dim light of the storm, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You make it to the door and a few minutes later, you’re inside. 
The cabin has been unoccupied long enough to put a light layer of dust on some of the furniture, but not enough to render anything musty or moth-ridden. It is charming in a way that you don’t normally see with S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouses—handcrafted furniture that’s a little rough around the edges, pine board floors, a squat wood burning stove in the center of the room that makes you want to curl up and read a book. It’s…homey and maybe even comfortable, two qualities that S.H.I.E.L.D. is decidedly not known for. It’s a welcome surprise, given how this mission has gone so far.
Loki bolts the door the moment you’re both inside and quickly turns his attention to the windows. 
“I’m putting up wards,” he says. There’s a grim set to his jaw that you don’t particularly like, largely because you only see it when something is wrong.
The back of your neck prickles.
The wood burning stove is not merely decorative—it’s the cabin’s only heat source. There are a few places that are intended to blend in no matter what—you suspect this is one of them. You manage to get a fire going and you settle yourself in front of it while Loki works. You know enough to not interrupt him, even though you feel like you’re about to bubble over with questions.
It takes him a while to finish warding all the windows and you notice he shuts the curtains for each one once he’s finished, which sends another chill up your spine. When he finally joins you by the fire, he looks a little tired.
“So, I take it you can’t just magic that storm away or something,” you say, with a casual sort of tone that sounds strained even to you.
“It doesn’t work like that,” he says, which you sort of expected. The set of his jaw is still tight. “And even if it did, this isn’t an ordinary storm. Someone is doing this.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that impression.” You pause, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. “Any idea who?”
He shakes his head. “Someone very ancient. Angry.”
You exhale. “Great. Do I want to know what the deal is with the curtains?”
“We should not look outside after the sun sets.”
The skin on the back of your neck prickles. “Why?”
There’s a reason that they call Loki “Silvertongue:” he is a compelling, eloquent speaker. And the somewhat irritating part is that he can do this extemporaneously and effortlessly—he doesn’t need to think about it at all.
So the fact that he pauses for a moment to think scares you a lot. His gaze drifts to the fire, quiet and thoughtful, as though he might find his answers written in the embers.
“Imagine every ghost story you heard as a child coming true,” he says finally.
You don’t like how spare he is on the details, but an icy chill works its way up your spine and you get the eerie sense that someone is listening. Suddenly, you don’t feel like asking any more questions.
“Okay,” you say softly.
*
Being in close quarters with Loki is…something.
There was a time early on, back when you first started working together when you thought something could maybe happen between the two of you. It was hard not to—Loki is attractive, certainly, but he has a particular magnetic quality that can make a stadium full of people think that he’s talking just to them (incidentally, this is also one of the qualities that gets red flags and warnings added to his file at S.H.I.E.L.D.) When you experience that up close, well…it’s intense, to say the least. It becomes easy to believe that his smiles mean something more, that he sees something intriguing in you.
Your feelings for Loki aren’t exactly a crush, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Crushes are silly infatuations that make people do incredibly stupid things and entertain incredibly stupid hopes. You are a professional with a good head on your shoulders: you know better. You’re attracted to him, but it doesn’t matter because nothing is going to happen.
Perhaps more importantly: Loki is a god and you are not. You have a good relationship—your banter comes easily and he seems to enjoy talking to you more than he likes talking to the average person—but it’s strictly professional and that’s all it ever will be. The fact that you’ve been working closely together for three years without a hint of anything romantic only confirms your theory. He’s your colleague, nothing more.
Except…being trapped in a small cabin with him is dredging up a whole swarm of feelings that you would have sworn you had gotten over.
And the storm is showing no signs of stopping.
And there’s only one bed.
It’s a fucking cliché, the kind of thing you’d roll your eyes at if you saw it in a movie or read it in a book, but you’re a professional and you’re also not sleeping on the floor. Besides, you’ve both got sleeping bags and it’s a double bed—it’s not like you’ve got to curl up together or anything.
Not that you’d complain if you had to.
Which, again, is another feeling you thought you were over.
The wood burning stove is doing its best to keep up, but it’s still no match for the storm outside, even though Loki’s done something to the logs to keep them regenerating as they burn. You dig out an extra pair of woolen socks from your pack and pull on your fleece over your sweater and long sleeved thermal. You pile your coat on top of your sleeping bag, along with your share of the scratchy wool blankets you’d pulled out of the cedar chest by the foot of the bed.
Loki watches you with the lightly amused look that always feels like he must be quietly making fun of you.
“What?” you say as you settle yourself under the blankets. “Some of us are delicate mortals who find the cold a little uncomfortable.”
“I said absolutely nothing,” he says, though the glimmer in his eyes undercuts his point.
“You were thinking it.”
“Oh, the things I think of would turn your head, darling.”
You know that there’s no innuendo specific to you in that statement, but your body reacts like there is: your heart and stomach do a complicated series of flips that would put trapeze artists to shame and a heavy, familiar heat stirs hopefully in your hips. Outwardly, you roll your eyes at him and focus on arranging the blankets over your legs. 
“I’m well aware that your mind is a kaleidoscope of horrors,” you say. 
“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s horrors so much as—”
You recognize that look in his eye: it is the herald of something wildly inappropriate. And while you’re no prude, the reality is that you’re about to share a bed with him and you will have no outlet for whatever feelings of lust this will inevitably provoke. Time to change the subject to something as far away from sex as possible, which happens to be whatever creepy fuckery is happening outside. 
“Speaking of horrors: why are you being so cagey about what’s going on out there?” you say.
You almost feel a little guilty as the teasing expression disappears from his face and settles into something grimmer. “It’s safer this way,” he says as he sets about preparing his own sleeping bag and blankets.
“That doesn’t really answer my question,” you say.
“I know.”
It occurs to you that this is a perfect example of the cryptic bullshit that makes his intentions so hard to read. Is he saying this because he cares about you? Is he trying to prevent problems down the road? All of the above or something else entirely? Nobody fucking knows, least of all you.
You scowl at him and he looks completely unbothered, which is typical.
“I hate it when you do this, you know,” you say.
There’s a slight twitch to his lips that could be a hint of a smile and you’re embarrassed by how giddy that makes you feel. 
“I know,” he says.
“It makes me feel like you don’t trust me or something.”
He stops what he’s doing and looks at you and his face is so honest and open that it makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Of course I trust you,” he says.
There’s something unsaid in his expression and you’re not quite sure what it is, but it leaves you with a warm glow in your chest.
“Okay,” you say softly.
For the briefest of moments, the difference between god and human doesn’t feel so impossibly vast.
But it’s only a moment.
*
You fall asleep quickly, even with Loki lying so close by that you could count his breaths if you wanted to.
You wake sometime in the middle of the night. The wind is still howling outside. Your mouth is dry and you fumble on the nightstand for your water bottle. Your fingers close around empty space and it occurs to you that you’d left it over by the fire.
You lie still, staring at the ceiling. The blankets have warmed up with your body heat and you’re not keen to brave the chill of the cabin. You could wake Loki up, maybe ask him to summon your water bottle to you. You nearly snort with laughter at the thought. That would go over well.
After a moment, you muster up all of your strength and willpower and haul yourself out of bed.
It’s not as bad as you thought it would be, in the end. You pad over to the fire and take a long drink from your water bottle, which turns out to be almost empty. You go to the little kitchen to refill it, idly listening to the wind howl outside.
You wonder if it’s still snowing, if the snow is piling up in drifts against the doors and windows, freezing you in. The thought of being stranded here with Loki is admittedly appealing.
Your brain is still a fuzzy from sleep and you’re a little distracted thinking about being snowed in with Loki and for just a moment, you forget what he said about not looking outside. You reach up to the kitchen window and push the fabric of the curtain aside to see how bad the snow is.
You’re not frightened at first because you only see shadows, but after a moment, you realize that the shadows are moving in an unnatural, broken sort of way, like someone had sculpted them into rough facsimiles of people and commanded them to walk, without really explaining what walking was.
Quite suddenly, they all turn and look at you. Or they would be looking at you if they had eyes. There is simply a void where their faces are, though somehow you can tell that their mouths are open, gaping and hungry, showing all of their teeth.
You feel something hook into the thread of your thoughts, tugging and pulling at your mind. The world tilts on its axis and there’s a sharp and white hot burning at the base of your skull that makes you cry out.
In the haze of pain, you think to yourself that it’s like they’re trying to take your soul and the shadows grin at you with too many teeth and a hissing, sibilant chorus of voices says, yes, we are hungry. So very hungry.
You know in that moment that they intend to kill you.
You are leaning closer to the window, your thoughts growing dark and murky as something saws away at the thing that tethers your soul to your body and there is so much pain and all of those horrible spindly hands and grinning mouths are reaching for you—
Someone is grabbing you around the waist and you scream because you think this must be the end, but instead, they’re pulling you away from the window and yanking the curtain closed and you realize it’s Loki.
There is a flash of green light and the connection between you and whatever is outside breaks abruptly and the pain retreats to a dull ache, like your body is carefully starting to repair those shredded, fraying threads that the shadows were tugging on. 
Loki’s eyes are wild and he looks at you like he half expects you to disintegrate or melt into the shadows. You are suddenly shaking so badly that your legs start to buckle.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say through chattering teeth. The cold you feel is bone deep and unnatural. “F-f-forgot.”
“Foolish girl.” He says it without malice, almost with affection, though his face is drawn tight with something like worry. Your legs are about to fail you, but he’s right there before they can, scooping you up into his arms like it’s nothing.
You snuggle up against his chest almost automatically, your body instinctively seeking out heat. “S-s-s-sorry, c-c-c-cold,” you manage to squeak out.
“I know,” he says and it almost sounds gentle. He is carrying you across the room and climbing back into bed with you in his arms, drawing the pile of blankets and sleeping bags over the two of you. 
The wind howls and you shudder, realizing for perhaps the first time that it may not be the wind making those noises. Loki stiffens, his grip on you tightening. 
“Did you see their eyes?”
You shake your head.
You feel some of the tension leave him, though not all.
You have so many questions, but that unnatural, bone deep cold is making you sluggish and sleepy and your teeth are chattering so hard you wonder if you’d even be able to speak at all.
“You need to rest,” he says. The cold feels like the sort of thing that could easily claim you while you sleep and he must see that fear reflected in your eyes because his expression softens ever so slightly. “Rest. I’ll keep you safe.”
You don’t like how quickly that line melts you. You tell yourself that it’s only because you’re so cold and tired, but you know that’s not entirely true. 
You allow your head to drop to his chest and he readjusts his grip on you, smoothing one hand against your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. You try to catalog all of the different senses—the way he smells like snow and pine, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you—but sleep is pulling insistently at your eyelids and you find yourself struggling to stay awake.
“Rest,” he says, and this time it sounds like a command.
Your eyes slowly slide shut and sleep finally claims you.
It seems like you sleep for a long time. Your dreams are strange and unsettling and have an odd sort of veneer, like they’re real but not quite. 
The first time you wake up, it’s because of a nightmare. You are back at the window and the things outside are threading their fingers underneath the panes, reaching for you with their spindly hands, clacking their too sharp teeth. You don’t know where Loki is and you���re trying to back away as they reach for you, and one of them is wrapping its fingers around your wrist and you can see its eyes and—
You thrash out in your sleep and gentle hands are soothing you. You wake abruptly, shaking, blearily looking up at Loki’s face.
“They—they were coming for me,” you manage to sputter out.
“Shh.” Loki is stroking your back. “You’re safe. I won’t let them harm you.”
Your pounding heartbeat takes a moment to settle, but the gentle pressure of Loki’s hands on your back calms you slightly. There’s a tenderness in his actions that you don’t necessarily expect, but it also feels so right and natural that you wonder how you could have ever been surprised by it.
“What are they?” you ask.
“That’s an answer for daylight, love,” he says. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe.”
You want to protest and push for answers, but you’re so very tired and he’s smoothing your hair again and you can feel exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, ready to pull you back under.
“I’m holding you to that,” you manage to mumble at him. “I’m not going to forget.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Sleep, darling.”
You fall back under.
Your dreams are still wild and strange this time around. You wake again a few hours later, teeth chattering and tears streaming down your face. Loki wraps you even more tightly in his arms, drawing more blankets over the two of you, conjuring an additional pile of furs. You try to tell him to save his magic for the wards and the fire, but he hushes you and mutters something about how that’s not exactly how it works, even though you’re pretty sure it is.
You sleep again.
You have a half memory of him quieting you and pressing his lips against your forehead, but you’re not quite sure if it’s real or wishful thinking.
When you wake again, it’s still dark and the wind is still howling. The cold has retreated somewhat—it’s not as sharp, not as biting, but you still need the warmth of the blankets and Loki’s arms to keep it at bay.
You’re a bit more clearheaded now, so there’s part of you that feels a little embarrassed about what happened. It was a stupid mistake. Rookie level. You know better.
“Are you awake?” Loki’s voice rumbles pleasantly against your ear.
“Sort of.” You hope he continues holding you. You’re not quite ready to give up his warmth or his arms just yet.
“How is one ‘sort of’ awake? Either you aren’t or you are,” he says.
“I’m very talented,” you say. It’s not particularly funny, but he humors you with a soft laugh, more exhalation than anything else.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Still cold,” you say. While it is true, you’re also secretly hoping that the more you emphasize this, the more likely he is to continue holding you. “It’s better than it was, but it’s still bad.”
As if to prove a point, a shudder works its way through you. Loki shifts, rolling over so his body covers yours, pulling the blankets up so they cover your shoulders. It helps, but there’s now a degree of intimacy there that makes your heart stumble in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but with his green eyes bright above you, you can’t help but hope he does.
Leave it to him to ruin the moment.
“That was very foolish of you,” he says, his expression becoming serious and his voice taking on that hard edge that you only hear when he’s trying to pick a fight.
You exhale sharply. “Are you seriously trying to do this right now? I told you it was an accident. I was half asleep.”
“I’m not fond of close calls,” he says tightly.
“Oh bullshit,” you snap. “You fucking love chaos, don’t tell—”
“It’s not chaos, it was foolish and dangerous—”
“For fuck’s sake, do you think I’m not aware of that? I’m not—”
“You could have died.” He’s not yelling, but he’s raising his voice and there’s an unexpectedly strained quality to his tone that you don’t know what to do with. “It’s not chaos, it’s not an accident, it’s—”
For a moment, he seems like he might be at a loss for words, and for some reason, this enrages you.
“It’s what, Loki?” you say with more venom than you intend. “Please enlighten me, since you’re such a fucking expert.”
You’re not quite sure what line you’ve crossed, but you think it must be an important one based on how angry he looks.
“You truly are infuriating,” he says. “You nearly get yourself killed and you have the audacity to speak that way to me after I save your life!?”
And before you can say a word, he brings his mouth down on yours in a bruising kiss.
His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though you’re still a little mad at him and he’s maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.
“Do not scare me like that ever again,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you in between words, each pause punctuated by the soft caress of his lips, the silky warmth of his tongue. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”
You are astonished and somewhat perplexed. “I…I didn’t even know that you…that you wanted this—“
“Darling, I have thought of little else.”
His mouth covers yours again and you are drowning in the feeling of him. The cold that has settled in your bones is melting like snow in springtime. You move your hands along his shoulders, tentative at first, then a little braver. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it is. He deepens the kiss, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbones. 
It’s dizzingly good and you want more. You need more. You arch against him in a clear invitation, reveling in how perfectly his body fits against yours. He sighs and presses back against you briefly before pulling away.
“You should rest,” he says, his voice slightly strained. “You experienced some very powerful magic—I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“I won’t,” you say, tugging him back down to you. He allows this for a moment, his hands cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss with toe curling intensity.
And then he draws back.
“You really do need to rest,” he says.
You shake your head. “I need you, Loki.”
His lips and tongue are just as insistent as yours when you pull him back into a kiss. You can feel him growing hard against your thigh and when you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him, he groans and nips at your lip before withdrawing again.
“Darling,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself back.
“I can stay on my back,” you say.
“Appealing as that is, you’re rather ignoring my point.”
“And you’re ignoring mine,” you say, rolling your hips again. His eyes close for a moment as he presses back against you, his hand sliding along your thigh. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down into a kiss that he returns without protest.
You catch his lower lip between your teeth and he sucks in a deep breath as he grinds his hips against you.
“Please,” you breathe. “I need you so bad.”
He groans as he lowers his head to the column of your throat. “I’m trying to keep you safe and you’re tempting me like this.”
“Touch me and tell me I need to rest more than I need you.”
It’s a bold thing to say and your heart pounds with anticipation as you feel him nip at your collarbone. His hand pauses at your hip, so close to where you need him. You wait a moment and then take his hand in yours and guide it underneath your waistband and between your legs. He lifts his head, gaze snapping to yours and the moment that his fingers graze your slickness, you know that you’ve won.
“Oh, you’re dripping,” he says, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening with lust as his fingers swipe across your clit.
You’re tempted to tell him that you told him so, but this still feels so fragile and tenuous that you settle for a more flattering truth: “Loki, I need you.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He shifts on top of you so that you feel the hard press of his cock against your hip.
“Same thing that you’re doing to me,” you say. “Which is why I need you to fuck me.”
He sighs, but his fingers don’t stop moving. “You really ought to rest.”
“I can stay on my back,” you say. “You can take me really slowly and gently. Think about how good that will feel.”
“Darling,” he says. You can see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and you know that you’ve almost won. You feel your orgasm starting to coil like a snake in your belly and you moan, rocking your hips with his hand.
“Loki.” You lick your lips. “Don’t you want to feel me come on your cock?”
You know the exact moment he gives in—you see it in his eyes. Less than a second later, he’s sliding one long finger inside of you and curling it just right.
“Not before I finish what I started.” His voice is a low growl.
“Yes,” you breathe, letting your head tip back against the pillow. “God, that feels so good.”
“I can feel you trembling,” he says, his voice rough. “Are you going to come for me already? I’ve barely touched you.”
“I told you: I need you,” you say.
He raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening in a very attractive way. “You’re not getting pert with me, are you?”
There’s a particular tone to his voice, a sternness that makes you shiver. Something to explore later, perhaps—right now, you need him too badly to play games.
“No, just trying to emphasize that I need you.”
“Are you really that desperate for me? Do you really need me that much? Surely you could touch yourself, surely you don’t need me that badly.”
You know that he’s saying that to amp you up, to tease you. But you are also so desperate to come that the idea of not having him is beyond comprehension.
“I do,” you say, a bit of desperate note making its way into your voice. “I need you, Loki, I need to come for you, need you to fuck me, please don’t make me wait, please, please, please—”
He stops your mouth with a kiss as he eases a second finger inside of you. “I’m going to take care of you, sweet thing,” he says as you gasp at the stretch. 
His fingers are curling inside of you, his thumb working your clit in small, tight circles that are pushing you closer and closer to the edge as a fantastic pressure builds inside of you.
“Oh, that’s it.” His eyes are dark, pupils wide and lust-blown. “I can feel how close you are.” He brings his lips to your ear. “Come for me and then I’ll fuck you properly.”
Your breath hitches as you reach your peak. “Oh god—I—fuck, I’m coming, I’m—”
Your voice cuts out as you come, pure pleasure blooming low in your hips, your back arching against the mattress as Loki works you through it, murmuring soft encouragement as he watches you shake in his arms.
“You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Utterly stunning.”
You fumble for the waistband of his pants, your fingers slipping over the fastenings. “I need you,” you say, tugging at the fabric.
His mouth curls into a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Are you quite certain?”
Leather yields to warm skin and you slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He inhales sharply as you stroke him, his eyes turning dark.
“You’re presenting a very compelling argument,” he says.
“Think about how good you’ll feel inside of me,” you say, gently increasing the pressure on his shaft as you move your hand.
“Norns, woman.” But he’s rolling on top of you as he says this and sliding his pants off his hips. He pauses briefly to divest you of your pants and underwear. A shiver works through you during the brief moment when your bare skin is exposed to the chill of the room…and he notices right away, hesitating slightly as his brow furrows in concern.
“Don't you dare stop,” you say. “I don’t care if I get hypothermia and die, I will straight up implode if you don’t fuck me right now.”
He chuckles, pulling more blankets around the two of you as he settles himself between your thighs. “Are you always so demanding?”
“Look, you’ve been teasing me for the last twenty minutes and you’ve been strutting around in those fucking leather pants for a lot longer, so forgive me if I’m a little impatient.”
He pauses above you, his expression deadly serious. “Let's get one thing quite clear, my love: I do not strut.”
There’s a glimmer in his eyes and you smirk back at him. “You totally do.”
He lines up the tip of his cock with your entrance. “I walk with the gravitas and stature appropriate to my station.”
“You strut and I know you strut because it’s extremely distracting.”
His smile is sly. “Tell me more about how I distract you.”
“You make me think about doing this with you.”
The tip of his cock eases into you. “Do I? How often, would you say?”
“All the time.”
He sinks in another inch. “All the time?”
“Mmmhm.”
One more inch. “That does sound terribly distracting.”
“You’re still trying to tease me,” you say and he grins and gives you another inch.
“You wouldn’t want me as much if I didn’t.”
“I’d want you always, no matter what.”
His gaze turns serious and he leans into kiss you, his hands stroking your cheek as he sinks into you fully, all the way to the hilt. You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him even closer. He’s still for a moment, his eyes shut.
He opens them.
“I’ve waited so long to have you,” he murmurs.
“You have me,” you say. “You always have.”
He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, slow as honey, sweetness in every thrust of his hips or touch of his lips. He fills you in a way that you’ve never experienced, his cock bumping up against that tender place inside you, making you gasp and pull him deeper. 
It builds slowly and steadily, the muscles of your cunt tightening as he takes you higher. You shudder as your climax builds.
“That’s it, my love,” he breathes. “That’s it.”
You inhale sharply, your orgasm swelling within you, rising, about to pull you under. You ride that wave, your hips rocking with his. You try and hold on for as long as you can because he feels so good and you don’t want it to end, but eventually, it becomes too much.
You keen and he kisses you. “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you come.”
Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and all your muscles tense and release as you come. Loki sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowing.
“Fuck.” His pace increases slightly. “You’re divine.”
Less than a second later, he’s also unraveling, his expression of ecstasy particularly beautiful in the flickering firelight. Even in the hazy afterglow of your own pleasure, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly spellbound.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you deeply and slows to a halt, his cock still throbbing inside of you.
“I don’t want to say I told you so—” you start.
“That’s a lie.” His reply is prompt and accompanied by another deep kiss.
You smile against his lips. “Okay, maybe I did want to say I told you so.”
“Better.”
You feel pleasantly loose and sleepy, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. He seems to notice your fatigue and raises an eyebrow. “Is this the part where I say I told you so?” he asks as he slowly eases out of you.
“Mmm, but it was so worth it,” you say. “So I’m basically right.”
“That’s not how that works,” he says.
“I’m not listening to you,” you say. “I need to recover my strength.”
“Now you’re just being pert.” He shifts to his side and draws you close so he’s spooned up against your back.
“You like it,” you say, barely stifling a yawn.
“Mmm, I do,” he says, drawing the pile of blankets back over you both. “Are you warm enough?”
“Yeah, but don’t go anywhere.”
You feel him smile as he presses a kiss against the back of your neck. “I don’t intend to.”
“Good.”
You both fall asleep like this, wrapped around each other, warm and safe from the storm outside.
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mochie85 · 1 year ago
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Blue Christmas
One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist
Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)
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You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.
Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.
It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.
“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.
“Loki- what?”
“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.
“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.
“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”
“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.
“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.
That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.
Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.
The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.
He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.
“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.
“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.
There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”
“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.
“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”
“Why would the season be an issue?”
“Contingency.”
“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.
“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.
As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.
As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.
“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”
Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.
“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”
You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger.  “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.
“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”
Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.
You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.
You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.
That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.
Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.
Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.
“…Loki…”
“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.
In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.
“Don’t stop,” you begged him.
“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.
Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.
“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.
“S’cold,” you gritted.
“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.
“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.
Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.
His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.
You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.
You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”
Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.
He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him.  Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…”  he whined.
You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”
“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.
You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.
You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.
“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.
He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.
“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.
God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.
He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises.  “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.
“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.
“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”
“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.
Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”
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🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish ++
4K notes · View notes
violetflowerswrites · 6 months ago
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Sweet Relief
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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.”
1K notes · View notes
writing-mlm · 20 days ago
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Teasing
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tags: use of good boy and cumslut, mean!dom, kind of dumbification (i’m not too sure on that but yeah), porn what plot
You knew exactly how you ended up there, writhing in pleasure as his hips snapped against yours. The brutal pace is torturous on its own, your back arched and your voice lost in your throat. But you think— no, you know he likes the fact that you’re breathless beneath him. Unable to make a noise aside from a strangled string of moans.
You’d been taunting him for days, maybe weeks if he had an opinion on this. You’d been away, visiting friends, and god, he thinks back to the messages and the calls he’d gotten since you left your apartment, and his pace quickens. The pictures, the videos, the voice messages— all of it. And yet, when you returned home you pretended to be innocent, not knowing what he was talking about and why he’d been so hard the second you stepped into the door. 
Now look at you, crumbling under his touch and so blissed out you can’t say a single word. 
“Hey, hey—“ He snaps his fingers as he continues his thrusts, forcing your bleary eyes on him. “You said you could take it, baby.” Aimlessly, you nod, trying to find a reprise on the bed frame as he chuckles above you. He slows a bit, rolling his hips into you in a way that makes you strangle out a louder moan. He huffs out a pant, closing his eyes for a second before grabbing your face with a tight grip. He forces your eyes on him, his dick twitching inside of you at the sight in front of him. 
“Can’t you take it?” He taunts, listening to your broken mess of a yes before he clicks his tongue. In one motion, he flips you over and presses a hand to the middle of your back, forcing an arch. You tuck your head down, allowing yourself to breathe. 
“Use your big boy words, baby. Okay, now say you’re my cumslut.” He goes back to his harsh pacing, his free hand fisting the headboard. 
“Go on,” He taunts before he leans down and coos in your ear when you can’t. “All that big talk for what?”
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simplyholl · 7 months ago
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Happily Never After Pt. 1
Summary: A marriage proposal from Prince Loki is every princess's dream come true, except for yours.
Pairing: Asgard Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Loss of Virginity.
W/C: 3.4K
A/N: This will be two parts!
See My Masterlist Here
"Married to Prince Loki?!" You shriek. It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard. "Stop being dramatic, dear. You two are very close. Since Prince Thor is already promised, this is the best match we could secure. Your father and I thought you would be happy considering he is your friend, and not a stranger."
"We used to be close! That was ages ago! I loathe him, mother. This is unfair. I would rather marry a stranger." You protest, wiping your sweaty palms on your long gown as you pace the room. "Why do you hate him? We just visited them last week." She tries to reason with you.
"You said yourself he was your best friend. Do you not recall the tears you shed when your father forbid you from spending time with him unchaperoned?" She pours herself more tea, waiting for your reply. "Yes, well he was my best friend. He's a different person now. I barely know him." You look out of your window, the palace in clear view of your own estate.
Your father was king of a neighboring realm, when the ogres attacked, forcing your family to seek safety in Asgard. You were welcomed with open arms. Frigga and your mother became fast friends. Odin relied on your father's knowledge of the other realms' customs, so he became valuable to him. Frigga invited your mother for tea every day. She insisted your mother bring you along since she had two boys close to your age you could play with.
Thor was older, more focused on playing rough with the other boys. He never paid attention to you. Loki was only a year older than you. You often found him reading under a tree instead of playing. He didn't notice you at first until you insisted the older boys let you play. Volstagg accidentally knocked you to the ground.
When Loki heard you crying, he stood up for you even though Volstagg towered over all of you. He was an unusually large child. Loki brought you to his favorite hiding place. Deep in the woods behind the palace there was a treehouse. He explained that he often came there for solace. It was built for Odin thousands of years ago when he was a child.
Thor didn't like to play there because it was too far from the palace. He thought he would get in trouble. One evening, Loki lost track of time and fell asleep in the treehouse. When he was finally found, Frigga had the place cleaned up, so it wouldn't be dangerous. Ever since that day, you and Loki were inseparable. You used the treehouse as a secret lair for you two to spend time alone.
The other children didn't play with you. They only played with Loki because they were scared of Odin. You understood each other completely. You would make up stories and put on one person plays to share your creativity. You grew up together. It went from playing as children, to hiding out in the tree house after mandatory appearances at balls. You despised when your father wanted you to meet other royals. He would force you to dance with their sons. After two dances, you and Loki would slip away to your private place.
You would laugh about the cheesy things they said to impress you. You would never forget the first time your heart skipped a beat. You were laughing about the visiting prince who told you your gown was lovely. It was the most hideous shade of lime green the seamstress could find. You had requested it that way, so you could hide your beauty. You wiped tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes as you told Loki your reasoning for the unpleasing color.
"You should have known you couldn't hide beauty like yours even in that atrocious gown." His sentiment made you blush, your heart stopped beating as he held your gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds too long. You were sure he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes in anticipation, feeling his face draw closer to yours. Then you were interrupted by Thor bellowing down below. Your father was looking for you.
You wouldn't be allowed out of his sight if he caught you out there. When you got home, you wrote everything down in your diary. How Loki had made you feel beautiful for the first time in your life, how you wished Thor and your father would have waited moments longer. The next day your father called you into his study, your diary in hand. Oh, how you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
"I forbid you to see him ever again." Your father's stern words instantly made you cry. Loki was everything to you. You couldn't lose him. You told him it was just a silly crush. That what you had written was just a fantasy you made up. He finally believed your lies, but now you couldn't be with him unless you were chaperoned.
Hundreds of years went by, you were as close as ever. You still found your way around the chaperones. You would sneak out at night meeting at the treehouse. You would stay up half the night together laughing as you did when you were children. He would have you back in your bed before sunrise. You always thought it was unfair that you had to be chaperoned, but Loki could do as he pleased.
Then came your first heartbreak. A visiting prince had met you at one of Frigga's balls. He immediately asked your father to court you. You were devastated. You didn't want to be courted. You were happy with your life. But your father couldn't wait to marry you off. But the more time you spent with the prince, the more you liked him. He had dark hair and blue eyes, sometimes you pretended he was Loki.
But he wasn't and there was your whole problem. No one would compare to Loki. But if you had to marry someone, at least the prince was nice. The prince would often find you with Loki going on strolls through the gardens, eating, and reading in silence. One evening, he visited your estate. He said he wanted to end this courtship. You couldn't think of anything you did wrong. He explained that he was certain your affection lied elsewhere, and he wanted to be the only man in his future bride's life. You didn't understand what he had meant, but you thanked him. You were free once again.
Then the latest scandal sheet was delivered by your maid. It mentioned how you and the prince were getting close. You rolled your eyes, thankful that was over. But when you reached the last paragraph, your whole world shattered. Prince Loki had been seen at the brothel three times this week. Not only that, but he had been caught with an unnamed maid in his mother's garden.
It wasn't uncommon for royalty to fuck around like whores, but this truly wounded you. You cried for a week after it came out. Your mother thought you were upset over the prince ending your courtship, so she explained there would be other princes. You didn't visit Loki for three months after the scandal sheet came out.
Another one hundred years passed, and you had grown used to Loki's womanizing. You were at the market, Loki carrying your basket filled with trinkets, winking at the unsuspecting maidens. He made note of the ones he wanted to bed later. You rolled your eyes, as you handed your coins to the shopkeeper, peeling the orange you just purchased.
"Really Loki, can you go one minute without finding four new lovers?" You joked. "Jealous?" He smirked. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous." "The only reason you are not overcome with jealousy is because you do not know what I am capable of carnally." The bite of orange you had just taken lodged down your throat causing you to choke. Loki smiled, pleased with himself.
"Of course, I wouldn't know that, or care to find out. You shouldn't speak of such things so loudly. What if someone heard you?" You looked around, your maid, Greta had her eyes on the ground pretending she wasn't listening. Loki walked over to her, dropping a few coins into her hand, and whispering to her. You watch as she goes to the next vender looking at the silks.
Loki grabs your arm, leading you behind a tent. "Aren't you curious? Your parents keep you in the dark, only for the bumbling fool you end up marrying to spill his seed in a matter of minutes." You would be like the other princesses, not knowing what to expect on your wedding night, if it wasn't for Loki. He had told you all about the act some hundred years ago, so you would know what to expect. You were thankful for that, at least.
But now, when he was looking at you like that, and speaking of such things, you wished you didn't know. "You won't experience pleasure with them. They just want to produce an heir, and once that's taken care of, he will get a mistress. I don't want that for you. I hope that you find a love match, but that is highly unlikely considering your father allows anyone with a title to court you."
You consider Loki's words as he leans in, his breath tickling your ear. "Let me show you what you are missing. I'll make it good for you. You deserve to experience mind blowing sex at least once in your life." He was the devil himself; you were sure of it. He was so tempting. You knew he was experienced, and women threw themselves all over him everywhere you went. He had to be good at it.
"I - I'm not sure. I would be ruined if anyone found out. My father would kill you.” You whisper, just in case someone was listening. "That's not a problem, I would just marry you before your reputation took a hit." He smiles as if what he said wasn't crazy. "Loki, I couldn't ask you to do that. To be honest, I am frightened. Not of you, but of the act itself. It doesn't sound like it would be pleasurable. Oh, but it must be if every eligible maiden in the kingdom lets you have your way with them."
You continue your ranting until Loki grabs your hand. "I would be gentle with you. We could start slowly. We would only do what you are comfortable with." You agreed to meet him at the treehouse that night. When you're back in your chambers you call Greta in to question her.
"Greta, have you had sex before?" She gasps, looking everywhere but at you. "My lady, that is not appropriate." You sit on your bed, gesturing for her to sit beside you. "Oh, spare me, we have known each other since we were girls. So out with it." You fold your arms across your chest waiting for her to answer.
"Yes, there was one man." She answers, her cheeks turning red. "Greta! Who was it?" She smiles, "Bart, the baker's son. We had a lovely couple of months together, but then he married the butcher's daughter. You see, men are fickle creatures. They use you until they find someone else. So be warned, my lady, keep your heart out of it. Men can have sex without emotions, and us women, well we often times end up heartbroken."
Greta's words repeated in your head all afternoon. You had known Loki for centuries, so you didn't think he would hurt you. But you were tempted to turn around, go back to your chambers and pretend like none of this ever happened. Luckily, he was in the treehouse waiting for you, so you couldn't leave now.
"It has been brought to my attention that men will do this with anyone, so I know it will mean nothing to you. And apparently, it will mean everything to me. I just don't want to regret this." You confide in Loki. "My darling girl, this will mean everything to me too. You are far too precious to me for it to mean nothing. We don't have to do anything if that is what you wish."
"I think you are right. I deserve to feel pleasure, and I trust you. I'm just nervous." Loki cups your face in his hands, bringing himself closer to you. It was so similar to that night when you were teenagers, your stomach erupts in butterflies. You never imagined the cute, gangly boy you knew so long ago would grow into the devilishly handsome man before you.
He kisses you, and it is exactly how you had always imagined. It was as if no time had passed between the moment when he almost kissed you centuries ago and now. You felt exactly the same. When he finally breaks the kiss, you look at him with wide eyes. If just his kiss could make you feel like this, you were in trouble.
Loki sat you down on the old mat you used to read on as children. It had fresh linen on it. Loki must have put it on before your arrival. He pressed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your exposed skin. He had you sit up so he could undo your dress, nimble fingers working quickly on your corset until all your clothing was sat aside. You were bare for the first time in front of a man, but you were not ashamed. You should have attempted to cover yourself, but when Loki looked at you like you were a priceless painting, you felt no need to.
Loki took his time kissing every part of you. He toyed with your nipples, and you felt yourself growing wet. When he lowered his head to take one between his lips, you finally understood why all those maidens would jump at his beck and call. He kissed his way down your stomach, nipping your upper thigh. He spread your legs apart, pleased with your arousal dripping down your thighs.
"May I?" He asks, pink tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. You aren't sure what he is asking, but he knows what he is doing, so you give your consent. His tongue envelops you, sliding from your slit to your most sensitive part. "Loki!" You shout, as he continues exploring you. His tongue flicks your clit as your hands weave through his messy locks.
You never imagined it would be like this. And you suppose if it wasn't for Loki, you would never know. He slips a long finger inside you as he continues licking you, He stretches you, placing another finger inside. You jolt at the intrusion, his fingers curling to caress your walls. You feel like you are about to explode.
"Loki, I feel so wonderful." You tell him. His lips suction around your clit, tugging while his fingers work their magic. Stars explode behind your eyes as your first orgasm rips through you. Loki waits until you finish writhing on his face before coming up for air. He wipes your arousal off his face with the back of his hand.
You think that has to be the most attractive thing you have ever seen. But you are proven wrong when Loki undresses. He has filled out since the last time you saw him shirtless, when you were swimming as teenagers. He drops his trousers, hard cock springing free. You gasp when you see the size of him. You were beyond thankful he told you about the differences between men and women so long ago. What a surprise this would be if he hadn't.
"You still have time to change your mind, love. Just say the word and I will stop." He stalks toward you, lowering himself to the mat. "Please do not stop." You say breathlessly. Loki chuckles, settling between your thighs. "This will hurt, but only for a moment. Tell me when you are ready for me to move."
Loki sinks into you, pressure and pain causing you to cry out. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it. It will feel better soon, I promise." You grit your teeth as Loki bottoms out. He stills inside you, waiting for you to give him permission to move. You take a minute, adjusting to his size, before you tell him you are alright.
Loki slowly removes himself before filling you completely again. After a few thrusts, it starts to feel good. "Faster, Loki, please." You beg, clawing at his back as he ravishes you. His hand comes down between your joined bodies, skilled fingers swirling against your clit. The feeling you had earlier comes back full force, another orgasm sending you soaring. Loki pulls out, finishing on the fresh linen on the mat. You lay there, breathing heavily, looking at Loki. He truly is beautiful. "Shall we go again?" He asks, his signature smirk returning.
Loki laid with you three more times before the sun rose. He walked you back to your estate, making sure you made it inside safely before walking back to the palace. The next day, you were excited to see Loki. You secretly hoped you would spend the day in the treehouse.
"Mary was looking for you." Fandral tells Loki, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, you can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." They laugh in unison, walking away as you round the corner. "Has someone finally caught your eye?" Fandral smiles. "Actually, I plan on asking the princess to marry me." Loki shocks Fandral who places a hand over his heart.
"Did you hear that, Greta?" You ask your maid, unwanted tears filling your eyes. "Yes, my lady." She answers. "Repeat what you heard please."
"Prince Loki said "You can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." She looks at you with pity. "That's what I heard too. Oh, Greta." You collapse into her arms, sobbing. "Let's go home, my lady. We mustn't let the prince see that he has hurt you."
From that moment on, things were very different between you and Loki. He demanded to know why you avoided him now and why you never had a kind word for him. You never answered because he knew what he had done. He just didn't know you heard him talking about you. That was five months ago. Now, Odin was ordering him to marry and they had chosen you of all people.
If this happened before you would be ecstatic. Now, it makes you sick thinking about being alone with him. You had no choice. Your father had been trying to marry you off for centuries, and you always got out of your courtships somehow. You suspected Loki had a hand in it. But now that he wanted to marry you, there was no getting out of it.
You were expected at the palace by noon tomorrow. You paced the floor so many times, your footprints were probably embedded into the floor. Then you had the perfect idea. You would run away.
The next day everyone awaited your arrival. Your mother and father sat with Frigga and Odin having tea while they waited. Thor patted Loki on the back. "Finally, brother. Everyone saw this coming. I am very happy for you." Loki brought his cup to his lips, when a timid knock on the door interrupted them. He jumps up, rushing to let you inside. Instead of you, he is greeted by Greta. "Forgive the intrusion, your highness. It's the princess she ran away." Greta hands Loki the letter you left.
She sniffles, worried about you. While he reads the note, your father and Odin start planning on sending knights to find you. Frigga comforts your mother. "What does it say?" Thor asks, peeking over Loki's shoulder.
Greta, I cannot marry that pompous ass. I would rather live amongst the pigs. Do not bother looking for me, because you will never find me. Tell mother and father I love them dearly. Thank you Greta, for everything. I wish I could have taken you with me. All my love.
"No need to create a search team, father. I will find her myself." Loki states, leaving the room.
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter
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lluvvsilly · 8 months ago
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Deadly combo of a pretty face and a cocky personality.
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buck-star · 7 months ago
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Stuck with a God | Loki Laufeyson
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// Pairing // Loki Laufeyson x Agent!Female!Reader
// Summary // Loki gets imprisoned by Shield and he loves flirting with you. As much as he annoys you, even more does the Shield technology annoy you.
// Wordcount // 2.488
// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, smut, kind of enemies to lovers, being stuck with Loki, bit of dub-con, fingering, squirting, CMNF, finger sucking / cum eating kinda, bit of housewife kink, praises
// Authors Note // This is my first time writing for Loki, so thanks to my amazing friend @jiyascepter for encouraging me to write for him.
// Events // Slumber Party: Sundae Bar | French Vanilla (stranded, looked in) and Black Cherry (Enemies to lovers) | @the-slumberparty | Bingo of your own | N4 | Stuck together | @thebo3bingo |
// Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson //
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     “Darlin’! Didn’t think I would see you today,” the black-haired man says, his smirk growing as you walk closer to the cell he is in. “Want to see me again before they bring me into another cell, my dear?”
     You roll your eyes, earning a chuckle from the man. Since they brought him into the cell earlier that day, he flirts with you whenever you’re around. Or at least it’s what you think he is doing; maybe he just tries to convince you to let him out and let him rule the world — something you won’t do unless your boss will force you to.
     “Didn’t miss you; I just have to get something, and then I will be back doing my work,” you answer him, walking further through the room.
     Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief — at least what he said — walks up and down his cell, his green eyes following every little movement.
     “Oh, darling—“
     “Stop that flirting and let me do my job. You’re annoying, and I’m done with you, Loki,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief about that man.
     His lips are still curled up, and his eyes are glistening. As much as he annoys you, he has something that makes your knees weak — mystic and magical.
     “My dear, come here. Look at me when you tell me that you’re done with me. Are you done with me, darlin’, or do you only want everyone to think that?” His voice is low, his head falling forward, and he looks up, looking even more handsome than before.
     “No, don't even think that. You’re not that interesting to me,” you groan, frustrated that you’re stuck in that conversation. Too nice to just ignore him and too annoyed to continue talking to him.
     “Not interesting to you? I’m Loki — god of mischief — from Asgard! Everyone wants me. Oh, that sweet maid in Asgard — you should have seen her, darling. She begged me, but she wasn’t interesting to me,” Loki says, chuckling softly at your expression.
     How can he dare to tell you such an intimate story about one of the maids who is working for them? But to finally let him know that you’re not interested in his idiotic ass, you make your way closer to the entrance of the cell. Loki is grinning at you and walking in his cell to the entrance as well.
     When you reach it, he places his hand against the glass, waiting for you to tell him that you’re not interested in him. His green eyes remind you of a snake, staring into yours and glistening mischievously.
     “I’m not inter— How?” You almost shout at him when he is suddenly in front of you — without glass in between you. “FUCKING SHIT! How do— GO BACK INTO THE CELL!”
     Loki laughs softly, his white teeth visible. His tongue darts out, and he slides it across his plump lips before closing his mouth and leaning a bit further down.
     “Make me, darling. I’m a god; you think that little cell stops me from breaking out? How sweet,” he says in a teasing tone.
     You place your hands immediately on his chest, feeling the muscles tensing underneath your soft touch, before you push him back into the cell. Actually, you learned to not do things like that — never touch a criminal or get too close to him — they could use it to their advantage.
     A loud sound behind you makes you flinch, and you look around. The door behind you shuts, and your eyes widen when you realize that you’re stuck in a cell with the enemy. And not just one enemy; you’re stuck with Loki.
     “Stay away!” You grumble, letting go of him to take a step backwards and look for your card, which opens literally every door in a shield compound. You reach your card, finally able to get out of the cell again — you just need to find out how he managed to open the door and walk out of the cell.
     “Darling, don't you want to give me some company? That hurts my feelings; I thought you changed your mind and wanted to stay in that cell with me,” Loki says, his eyes still following every movement of yours while you walk to the door and press your card against the small display next to it.
     His lips curl up when the door doesn’t open. You try again, pressing the card against the display again. Once again, the door stays closed, and you groan frustrated — why can’t the technology work like it should?
     “Doesn’t work, darling? Do you need my help?” Loki asks, his tone teasing, and you roll your eyes once again. At some point, you’re sure you can roll your eyes all the time, but right now you’re just annoyed about the technology and him being such a dick.
     “I don’t need your help! Can you just shut up for a moment?” You ask through gritted teeth. You turn around, wanting to face the black-haired man, but the cell is empty, and you wonder if he broke out once again.
     You hiss and almost jump when you feel a warm breath against your neck. Long arms wrap around your waist, and a broad but small chest is suddenly pressed against your back. You can feel Loki’s nose sliding over the soft skin of your neck; a low chuckle leaves his lips when he pulls you even closer.
     A shiver runs down your spine; you want to lean more into his embrace. His warmth and scent envelope you. Loki feels just so good that you want more of him and more of his touches.
     “You like that, don’t you, darling?” He asks, his breath hitting your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. It shouldn’t feel so good; you shouldn’t stay in his embrace; he shouldn’t touch you like that — Loki is still the enemy, but the two of you look now like he isn’t just that; it looks like the two of you are so much closer.
     “L—Loki, let go of me. H—How did you escape here? Wh—“ You interrupt yourself when you feel his long fingers moving over your stomach, higher to your chest.
     “I didn’t escape, but I told you — I’m a god, darling. I never escaped here; you opened the door with your card; you pushed just an imagination of mine into the cell. And now that you’re here with me, stuck in this cell, don’t you think we should just continue where we stopped?” Loki asks, his voice quiet, and he presses his soft lips against your neck.
     You shake your head, even though you don’t feel like that. You just can’t be that close or intimate with the enemy. He grumbles behind you, pressing you even closer against his chest, and you can feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass.
     Your eyes widen, pussy throbbing, but you can’t just give in to him, can you? Loki is thrusting his hips forward, chuckling against you, when a soft moan escapes your lips.
     “You like that?” You nod lightly, his fingers gracing over the fabric of your t-shirt to your chest. Loki moves his hands over the swell of your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, and when you look down, your breath hitches.
     His hands are so big, thin, but long fingers — they cause the most filthy thoughts you ever had. You inhale deeply. A moment later, you think about pushing him away, telling him to stop that, and that there are cameras, but you know that they won’t work when the display to unlock the cell doesn’t work either.
     Loki feels you tensing in his arms; he kneads your soft breasts in his hands, causing you to throw your head back.
     “N—Loki, please,” you whine, feeling his hard cock still pressing against you. He thrusts his hips forward, making you squeal. His hands are squeezing your tits more.
     “Changing your attitude is exactly how I like it. What do you need, darling?” His tone is teasing. You nod your head, now knowing what to say. Loki laughs, suckling at your neck while his hands snake back to your waist. “Tell me, darlin’.”
     “L—Loki, please, n-need you,” you whimper. You feel so pathetic, begging the enemy to touch you, to fuck you. His hands and his lips feel like the softest thing you have ever felt, and you need him to continue touching you. You need to know how talented those fingers are.
     “Look at you, melting in the enemy's embrace, needing his fingers, don’t you?” He mocks you, laughing softly when he picks you up. He carries the two of you to the bench on the other end of the cell, sitting down before he places you in his lap.
     Loki’s hands hold you in place, his hard crotch pressing against your ass, and you wiggle lightly, earning a low groan from the man behind you. His fingers are digging into your sides, pressing you further down on him to keep you still.
     His lips trail along your neck once again, and he then smirks miraculously once again. And suddenly… you’re naked in his lap. Your clothes are nowhere around, and you can feel the leather of his suit underneath your sensitive skin.
     “L—“
     “Come on, spread those pretty legs for your favorite god, darling,” he grumbles, his fingers sliding along the inside of your thighs as he spreads your legs apart.
     Loki reveals your throbbing pussy; his left hand is holding your one leg, and he squeezes your thigh, while his other hand inches closer to where you need him the most.
     His long finger slides through your folds, and you moan softly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Loki circles your clit, pinching it lightly between his fingers before he moves his long fingers further down to your entrance.
     “So wet, ‘s that all for me, dalin’? Pussy’s drippin’ for me,” he says, kissing his way along your neck to your ear. His fingers coated in your arousal, he slowly pushes one finger into your entrance. You moan loudly, arching your back. Loki’s finger slips deeper into your tight pussy.
    “Doing so well; look at you, sweetheart. Taking my finger like you’re made for that, aren’t you?” Loki praises you, pushing deeper into you while curling his finger. He starts pumping it in and out of you, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.
     Your hands gripping his thighs, the cold leather feeling perfectly underneath your hot skin. And having him completely dressed while you’re naked turns you on beyond belief.
     Lokis circles your clit with his thumb, adding another finger to your cunt. Your breath gets heavier, you rock into his hand, and the coil in your stomach tightens with every moment of his long fingers inside of you.
     The black-haired man hits your sweet spot every time, the pads of his fingers sliding over it, causing an intense feeling to build up in your lower stomach. A feeling you never had before, not when you fucked yourself with a toy and never with another man.
     “Doing so well, darling. Squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait to fuck you, probably. Yeah, that’s what you like? Being fucked by a god, don’t you, darling?” Loki asks; his eyes darken lightly, but since you’re with your back toward him, you can’t see them.
     “P—Please, so close. LOKI!” You almost shout; you're just about to come all over his fingers. You don’t know how you ended up in that situation, but right now you can’t care about that. Everything you want and need is Loki, his fingers curling inside of you and bringing you closer to the edge.
     The sound of your wet pussy and his fingers pumping into you in a steady rhythm echoes through the cell. He speeds up, loving the way your walls cling around his fingers, sucking his thin, long fingers even deeper. “Come on, sweetheart, come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”
    With that, you do as you’re told, your pussy clenching around his fingers. Loki massages your sweet spot with his digits while you come all over his fingers. Your juices squirt all over his palm and fingers, landing on the ground of the cell.
     “F—Fuck, please, keep going, please, Loki,” you beg, thrusting your hips against his hand while you ride out your orgasm.
     He can’t stop his movements just now; you need him to fuck you through your orgasm — and that’s what he does. Curling his fingers steadily inside of your pulsing cunt, he thrusts slowly into you while you breathe heavily.
     You have been moaning like a whore since he started to fuck you with his finger. But you don’t care; he feels too good to think properly.
     “Didn’t think about it, darlin’. Doing so good for me, gonna keep you and take you with me to Asgard; make you my sweet little wife and fuck you whenever and wherever I want,” he groans, his eyes rolling slightly back when he thinks about that idea. A low moan escapes his pink lips, and he smirks. “You’re already so cock drunk, you can’t even think about it properly. Just say yes, darling.”
     You nod your head, your hips still moving against this hand, while you don’t really notice what he is saying. As long as he keeps his fingers inside of you. “Yes, please.”
     “Whining and begging like a pathetic little housewife, that’s what you are. My sweet little housewife.” He kisses your neck once again, sucking a purple mark into your skin. “All mine, darling, and everyone can see it.”
     Even with your protests, Loki pulls his fingers out of you, holding them up to show you your arousal dripping down his fingers. You blush slightly, watching Loki bring his fingers closer to his face. You turn your head, looking at him while he takes them into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.
     “Tasting perfect, darling,” he hums more to himself before he moves his hand, and you’re suddenly dressed again.
     Your eyes widen, reality hits you, and you jump off his lap. You immediately miss his warmth, a cold shiver running down your spine while you consider getting back into his lap or staying away from him. This is just a short moment, because as much as you should stay away from him, as much as you crave and need this black-haired man.
     “That’s my girl. Now let’s get out of this cell and make you my pretty little housewife,” he says, smirking at you when your back is pressed against his chest once again. And just as he tells you, he is doing exactly that, making you his wife — and luckily, you’re not the only one addicted to the other one. A god can be just as addicted and craving like a human.
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// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles
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jiyascepter · 8 months ago
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Caught You | 18+ Only
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MASTERLIST
Pairing: Loki x F!reader
Words: 4012
Warnings/Content: SMUT; Avenger! Loki & Avenger! Y/n, Themes of dub-con, dark-ish Loki??, dom!Loki, pervy!Loki, possessive, jealous loki, use of loki's magic (in a lot of sexual stuff), restraints, bondage, biting, licking, aggressive, pissed loki, praise, slight degradation, there's a tattoo on y/n's thigh (for the plot!), other mcu characters also make an appearance, clit licking, fingering, overstimulation, p in v.
Please lmk if I missed anything! Loki is a bit of red-flaggy in this one, please keep in mind this is only a fanfiction.
Summary: When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?
A/n: i moved the title in the corner so that i can keep seeing tommys's sexy face in the middle 😮‍💨 im trying to make my fics dirtier but it's not quite coming down in my works, like it's in my mind but it's not easy to express??? im trying & hopefully it'll come soon
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The cavernous, dimly-lit warehouse echoed with the sounds of clashing metal and grunts of exertion. The Avengers were locked in combat with a band of mercenaries armed with advanced weaponry.
Tony was in the air, repulsor beams lighting up the darkness, while Natasha and Clint worked in tandem, their movements precise and deadly. Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, was a blur as it struck down the enemies with thunderous force.
In the midst of the chaos, Loki stood with an air of detached amusement, casting spells with flicks of his wrists. His magic sent mercenaries flying, created illusions to confuse their ranks, and conjured barriers to protect the teammates. But Loki's magic, powerful and unpredictable, was also a bit reckless tonight.
Maybe it was the leather suit you were wearing today.
"Loki, for the love of—watch where you're aiming!" You shouted as you narrowly avoided being hit by a stray spell meant for an enemy.
Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you shot him a glare. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"
Loki smirked, eyeing you up, not taking you seriously. "Perhaps if you were more attentive, you wouldn't find yourself in such precarious positions, darling."
You scowled and ducked under a swipe from a mercenary, retaliating with a swift punch that sent your opponent sprawling.
Ugh, you hated how he always carried that stupid smirk.
"Maybe if your magic was actually useful, we wouldn't be in precarious positions to begin with!"
Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of irritation flashing through his otherwise calm demeanor. "Is that so? I seem to recall saving you from a similar predicament just last week."
"By causing it in the first place!" You shot back, dodging another mercenary's attack and taking him down with a well-placed kick. 
Loki rolls his eyes and runs in the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured an illusion, making a group of mercenaries see each other as Avengers.
Confused, they turned on one another, giving the team a moment of respite. But the spell was too potent, and soon the illusion spread, affecting even the teammates. 
Chaos erupted as friends and foes became indistinguishable. 
"What the—" Tony exclaimed while flying over the scene. 
"Damn it, Loki!" You screamed, ducking, as Natasha took a swing at you, mistaking you for an enemy.
"Enough!" Thor bellowed, his hammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet and dispelled the illusion.
The mercenaries, now disoriented, were quickly subdued.
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The flight back home was quiet. Everyone was either tired, tending to their wounds, or just rethinking what happened back there. 
Once you landed, the rest of the Avengers stepped down the Quinjet and walked into the building to their rooms. 
"Loki, wait." Steve calls out and walks towards Loki in the lobby.
“About today—”
“Nobody died, Rogers.” Loki replies. 
"That is not an achievement," You murmur to yourself loudly on purpose for him to hear while taking a sip from your favourite grey-coloured sipper. 
Loki and Steve both glanced at you, with Steve carrying a hint of a smile on his face while Loki scowled and turned back to Steve.
You could tell he was not impressed. 
A win for you.
Steve clears his throat, turning serious once more. "Look, what happened today was not good. We cannot work as a team if we don't know half of your tricks."
Loki grins. "Well, that's the fun, isn't it? A surprise for everyone.”
Steve raises his eyebrows. "But it isn’t helping, Lo-"
"Helping? His magic is useless half the time."
Loki shoots an eye at you when you say that, and you could tell the God wasn't pleased.
"He's showing off in front of everyone, like the arrogant ass he is." You go on, while Loki watches you with his grave, sharp eyes.
Why wasn't he replying with his usual snarky comments today? 
Steve gives a light chuckle and pats Loki's shoulder as if feeling sorry for him, "Be careful next time, that's all I ask," and walks away through the corridor, leaving you and Loki to yourselves.
While waiting for the elevator, you silently stand in front of the doors, waiting for it to arrive.
Until you feel a hard pressure against your back.
The sensation is unmistakable—a solid, unyielding presence, warm and firm. Loki's chest. His closeness sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and subtle heat radiating through his clothes.
You stiffen, unsure whether to move away or stay still, the elevator's arrival feeling like an eternity away.
You decide to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Ego broken, Loki~?" You say his name in a sing-song voice.
"Do you enjoy testing my patience, mortal?" he says, leaning down to your ear.
"Someone has to keep you in check," you reply, your voice steady despite the proximity.
The elevator reaches your floor, and with a little chime, its doors open. You proceed to take a step forward to enter the elevator when his hand grabs hold of the back side of your neck and pulls you back to him.
"Careful," he almost whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, "your tongue is going to get you in trouble one day."
You pause for a moment, feeling the tension thicken in the air, before you turn your head out of his hands to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the big bad trickster's feelings?" You taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Maybe if your magic wasn't so unreliable, we wouldn't be in these messes. Or do you need Daddy Odin to give you some pointers on how to actually be useful?"
Loki's eyes flare with fury, and in no time he grabs your neck once again and strides into the elevator, pinning your head to the panels. His body pressed against yours with a force that left little room for doubt about his intensity.
His frame, tall and lean yet undeniably strong, exerting a commanding presence as he pins you against the cool metal of the elevator wall. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the chill of the metal against your cheek. 
He was so close to you, you could smell his sultry, intoxicating smell on him.
"You think my magic is useless, don’t you..." He whispers, his breath ghosting on your skin. "I’ll make sure you regret saying that."
"I don't "think", it's a fact." You try to push him back with your elbow. “Let me go, Loki.” You say it firmly. 
"Not yet, vixen." He says so, and the elevator doors shut by themselves. And with one flick of his fingers, the front chain of your tight leather suit yanked open down to the end of your belly.
Did he just–
"I’ll make sure to demonstrate how useful my magic can be." He says and looks down to notice you were not even wearing a bra underneath.
He grins at the sight, licking his lower lip. "Naughty girl." He coos in your ear while his fingers work their way to your belly. 
His fingers, though possessing a hint of coldness at first, quickly warmed against your skin as they made contact with your belly. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire that danced just beneath the surface. 
"Let. Me. Go." You say, trying to stand your ground, but your attempts are futile. 
"Told you no, darling." He says while his fingers trailed up to your nipples, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rose in their wake.
It was a sensation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by the raw intensity of his touch. 
He slides down your suit from your shoulders, proceeding with a graze of his tongue on your skin. 
"Mmm…sweet," he murmurs, sucking on your shoulder, "unlike those words you use."
"FUCK. YOU." You reply with a gruff.
Loki chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you will," he murmurs, his voice dripping with seductive menace. "But not before I teach you to respect a God."
He pulls down your suit lower, his lips kissing the back of your neck, followed by melty little kisses down your bareback. Despite your discontent, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by him.
As Loki pushes down your suit to your thighs, his eyes catch sight of a small tattoo etched on the inside of your thigh. The ink reads the name of your ex-boyfriend. Loki's eyes darken with a mix of curiosity and possessiveness. 
He paused, his brows furrowing as he read the name inked there. "Well, well, well," he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and disdain. "So that’s what your little skirt was hinting at the meeting a few days ago..."
He traced the tattoo lightly with his finger, sending a shiver through your body.
So this bastard was always watching you?
You grit your teeth, anger and embarrassment flushing through you. "It’s none of your business, Loki."
He tightens his grip on your neck slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his dominance. "I know."
"But this mark... it irks me. An insignificant mortal claiming a part of you." He pinches your thigh, and you try to jerk away your leg but cannot. 
You squirmed against his grip, but he held you firmly, his eyes dark and intense as they bore into yours. "Let it go, Loki," you demanded, trying to maintain your composure.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the tattoo. "Why should I?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr. "Why should I let some forgotten lover's mark go unchallenged?"
He gives you a rather harsh bite on your shoulder, trailing his lips to kiss your neck, which makes you whimper, which makes him grin.
He pulls away a bit, and with the flick of his wrists, an invisible force pins your arms above your head, securing you in place against the elevator wall. You struggle briefly, but the bonds hold firm. Loki steps back, his eyes raking over your exposed form with a predatory gaze.
Before you could retort, he bent down, turning his body against the elevator and facing you from below. He kissed the tattoo with deliberate slowness, his lips soft and maddeningly sensual.
The act was both possessive and teasing, with his tongue swirling repeatedly on the same spot that was making you crazy. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and a part of you hated how your body responded to his touch. 
"Shh, people can still hear us, darling. Even if they cannot enter." He says placing pecks up and down your thigh, evaporating your steady facade away.
"Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down and exposing you completely.
You saw his eyes almost sparkle at the sight, placing a kiss on your mound, making you flinch against the metal. Where and when did your suit disappear? You didn’t know.
He leans close and starts exploring your already wet clit with his tongue. Holding your waist in his hands, he kept stealing glances up at your aroused form, watching your expressions while you gasped every time his warm tongue darted on your needy pussy.
The god had a talent for his tongue. The silver tongue. 
"Are you still with him?" He murmured, pulling away his face from your pussy, making you let out a complaining whine.
He holds up his two fingers to caress your folds. "Answer."
"N-no…" You answer, your voice quivering in pleasure.
"Then why isn’t it off?" He says this, glancing at your tattoo.
"I never…Loki-"
He pushes two fingers in. "You never what?"
You shudder as Loki's fingers push inside you, his question hanging in the air, demanding an answer. Your mind races, caught between the intense pleasure and the need to explain yourself.
"I never... had the chance," you manage to gasp, your voice barely steady. "It didn't mean anything anymore. I just...fuck-forgot about it."
Loki's eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face, his fingers moving slowly inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes coherent thoughts nearly impossible. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.
"Forgot about it?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Or perhaps you wanted a reminder of something you couldn't let go?" 
"No…" You moan, writhing against the panel with your hands above your head, your fingers aching to dive into his hair. 
He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirm, your faint moans echoing the elevator.
"Good," he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. "Because I don't share, darling. And I don't like to be reminded of what once was."
You moan, your body arching against his touch. His words send a thrill through you, and the possessiveness in his tone both intimidating and exhilarating.
"You know I can just turn you into a pretty mannequin for me so I can do whatever I want with you…but I want to feel you squirm... to mewl... like a little prey." He says watching your face while feeling your pussy start to clench around his fingers.
"Now, let's make sure you never forget who you belong to, hm?" Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. His mouth returns to your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless intensity that drives you wild. 
"Yeah, that’s right, just keep on making those little sounds for me." He says it with a satisfied smile curling on his lips, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor. 
The combination of his fingers inside you and his mouth on your clit sends you spiralling into a mind-shattering orgasm, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out his name.
As the waves of ecstasy subside, Loki slowly withdraws his fingers. He stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He releases your binds away and turns you to him, and his thumb caresses your lower lip as if studying it for a second before he holds you against the wall, cupping your cheek, and kisses you almost fiercely. 
And gosh, you needed that. You needed that and more.
"Y/n, is that you?"
Both of you freeze to your seats when you hear Thor’s voice outside the elevator. 
Loki's eyes narrow in annoyance, and he quickly glances towards the elevator doors. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. "We wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"
He continues exploring your mouth, and the kisses start spreading to your neck, tongue, and teeth, making their wild appearances every once in a while. 
Until you couldn’t help it and let out a moan.
"This door is not openi- Y/n??" Thor repeats again. "Wait, let me call Stark.-" 
Your heart races when Thor calls out again because of your moan. Loki’s eyes narrow, and he pulls away. "Are you doing this on purpose? Just another one of your games so we can get caught and you can have your fun?"
He gives your pussy a little slap, and you whine a no. 
In a swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You barely have time to register the shift before the air around you shimmers and the familiar confines of the elevator vanish, replaced by the opulent and dimly lit interior of a room unknown to you.
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The room is a stark contrast to the sterile metal of the elevator. Rich tapestries line the walls, and candles flicker, casting a warm, golden glow. A large, ornate bed dominates the space, its dark, luxurious linens inviting in a way that makes your heart race. 
Loki wastes no time. He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed with an urgency that sends a thrill through you. He lays you down gently, his gaze intense as he takes in your still-naked form. His hands trace over your skin, as if committing every inch to memory. 
The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Loki—intoxicating and alluring. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, his fingers tracing a delicate line down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
You can barely catch your breath; the intensity of the moment overwhelming. "Loki, what if Thor—"
"Thor won't find us," Loki interrupts, his voice a low growl. "This is my domain. No one enters without my permission."
"Now," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "let us continue our little magic demonstration." 
The silken sheets cool against your heated skin, and with Loki's hands everywhere—caressing, teasing, exploring every inch of your body—his touch both gentle and demanding, leaving you breathless and craving more. 
"So beautiful," his voice dripping with seductive menace as he conjures a binding spell that secures your wrists to the bedposts. 
You gasp, your body arching against the restraints, as Loki's mouth finds your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples with maddening precision. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind is lost in a haze of pleasure and need. 
Loki's mouth moves with deliberate precision, his tongue tracing intricate patterns over your breasts. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch and writhe against the silken sheets. The restraints on your wrists keep you firmly in place.
"Loki…"
"Mhm," he hums, enjoying your squirms. But he wanted more.
He uses his powers to amplify his touch, making your nerve endings sing with heightened sensitivity. You gasp and moan, the intensity of his magic overwhelming your senses.
You can feel the magic pulsating through you, heightening your awareness of every touch and every kiss. His lips move from your breasts to the sensitive skin just below, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The combination of his mouth and his magic almost too much to bear.
His free hand trails down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. As his fingers reach your inner thighs, you feel a new surge of his magic, more potent and concentrated. It wraps around your thighs, making your muscles quiver with anticipation.
Loki conjures small, delicate tendrils of magic that wrap around your nipples, gently tugging and twisting. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath. 
He moves lower, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your belly. The tendrils of magic follow his path, amplifying every sensation, making you feel as if your skin is on fire. You can barely think or breathe; your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.
As he reaches your hips, his fingers part your folds, and you feel a rush of cool air against your wetness. His mouth hovers just above your clit, his breath hot and tantalizing. 
"Tell me, darling," Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot, "how does it feel to be at the mercy of a god?"
Before you can answer, his tongue flicks out, teasing your clit with delicate, precise strokes. His magic enhances every touch, making you moan and writhe against the restraints. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. 
"Loki I-" He sees your upcoming orgasm and pulls away quickly, enjoying your needy, complaining moan for him.
"Not so easy, darling."
And with another display of his magic, he completely gets rid of his clothes, his disrobed body turning you on even more, the heat of need between your legs almost unbearable.
He brings his already-hard cock near your lips. "Kiss it." and you do, the light hum of satisfaction he makes making you want to absolutely suck him out rather than just a little kiss.
"My filthy little vixen," he says, eyes blazing with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through you, "get ready for your god."
He lets out a low growl, a dark and seductive sound, before slowly pushing into you, his length stretching and filling you completely. The feeling is exquisite, with every inch of him sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"You feel so perfect," Loki murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Every part of you was made just for me."
He begins to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each motion designed to draw out the maximum pleasure to make you feel every inch of him. The binding spell keeps your wrists secured to the bedposts, preventing you from reaching out to touch him, to claw at his back as the pleasure intensifies.
Loki's eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable and electric. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts. You respond eagerly, your moans muffled against his lips, your body arching to meet his. 
His magic continues to amplify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive, every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you. The tendrils of magic around your nipples tighten and twist, adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
"Loki," you gasp, barely able to form coherent words. "I can't... it's too much..."
He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You can take it, darling. You will take it. You will take everything I give you."
His pace quickens, and his thrusts become more urgent and more demanding. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pleasure builds rapidly, creating a coiling heat in your belly that threatens to consume you entirely.
Loki's hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight, precise circles. The additional stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your impending orgasm.
"Come for me, darling," Loki commands, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for your god."
His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, the orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless and shaking. The pleasure is overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
Loki continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure, his own release imminent. His movements become erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own climax.
You can feel him throbbing inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he finally lets go, his own orgasm ripping through him.
With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his groan of pleasure vibrating through your body. He collapses on top of you, his weight comforting and grounding as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you.
For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Loki's hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelming pleasure. 
"Fuck, you drive me wild." He murmurs breathlessly. 
"Did you like that, darling?" Loki murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr. "My magic can do so much more." 
You breathlessly chuckle while he traces patterns on your skin. His fingers caress down to your thigh, where he glances at your tattoo.
"We can’t have that." He says in a low voice and grazes his hand over your skin, and the tattoo vanishes.  Loki’s touch lingers on your thigh where the tattoo once was, his magic leaving your skin smooth and unmarked.
"And now you’re mine."
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┈➤ Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭
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sarahscribbles · 1 month ago
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𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟗𝟕𝟒
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Both hands slam onto the wooden headboard with such force that the entire bed frame seems to shake, and through half lidded eyes you watch your knuckles change colour against the wood. It isn’t the first time you’ve assaulted the bed frame this evening, and with the way Loki’s tongue is skillfully sliding through your cunt while you straddle his face, it won’t be the last. 
His quiet hum of satisfaction floats up from between your thighs, and the soft vibrations are enough to have you flutter wildly around him. You chance a glimpse down at the god who’s been lying between your legs for the past half hour, moaning softly at the gloriously debauched sight that meets your eyes. 
Loki is lying contentedly among the pile of pillows on your bed, ink black curls fanned out around him and a pretty pink blush staining his cheeks while he pleasures you. Elegant fingers are curled tightly around your thighs to hold you in place, gripping you so tightly that you anticipate a tiny line of bruises will form by the morning. 
He’s a work of art, really. 
“You are fucking gorgeous.” You can’t help but praise him, because there’s no sight on Earth comparable to Loki’s head between your legs. His answering deep hum sends a sharp ripple of pleasure twisting through your core, pulling a satisfied groan from your parted lips in its wake.  
It’s impossible to tear your eyes from him as he lies between your legs. Each sinful swirl of his tongue and appreciative moan goes straight to your head, but then he moves his head just enough for you to catch the shine of your own arousal coating the tip of his nose and upper lip. That alone is almost enough to send you into orbit, that is, until Loki’s eyes lock with yours and he licks a long, slow line along the length of your cunt, pulling you as close to his mouth as he physically can. 
It feels so good, so blindingly good, that for a second you’re unable to speak, unable to do anything but drown in the warm, wet feel of Loki’s tongue.
Your hands curl tighter around the headboard, but you don’t take your eyes of Loki for even a second. “Fucking…menace!” you cry out, only to feel him smile against your cunt as he returns to teasing and taunting. “Loki, I - fuck!” Whatever you were about to say is swiftly lost when he then dips that skilled tongue inside you. 
All you can manage is a strangled whimper while he fucks you with his tongue. He’s expertly building you towards the edge, in the gloriously depraved way that only he can, and you send up an unending stream of thanks to the universe that this god loves you.
Because no one before him has ever been so attuned to your pleasure, or so eager to ceaselessly place it before their own. 
“Nothing arouses me more than pleasuring you, dove.” He had said little over half an hour ago, silencing your objections as he had coaxed you over his face. 
That beautiful face is now peering up at you with reverence, as though he’s ached to worship you all his life and tonight you’ve granted his every wish. His tongue laps at your cunt with something close to desperation and, not five minutes later, you feel his hands slide along your thighs to grip your hips, clamping you firmly against his face to give his undivided attention to your clit. 
You clench wildly on top of him, beginning to rock your hips in an attempt to chase the release that’s building like a storm in your core. “Fuck, Loki, keep doing that! Please, please, please!” you plead with him. 
The coil in your core is twisted tight and about to snap, promising a blinding release. It’s glittering before you like a new star - all you need is that wickedly talented tongue.  
Curses and pleas continue to fall like spring rain from your lips, and Loki is the ever benevolent god. Before long, your climax crashes down around you with such force it rips the breath from your lungs. Tiny stars dance at the edges of your eyes and you grind wildly against your lover's face. 
Loki watches you intently, his eyes sparkling as you come undone for him. You make sure to cry out his name as soon as you’re able, letting everyone in a ten mile radius know that every part of you belongs to him. 
Your thighs are trembling on each side of Loki’s head, your heartbeat a pounding drum in your chest. You’re panting as you come down off your high, basking happily in the golden afterglow of your orgasm…
But then you realise that Loki’s tongue is still buried in your sensitive cunt.
“Mpmh, Loki…too much,” you whimper, trying to lift off his face. 
Loki’s hands only curl tighter around your hips, refusing to grant even a seconds reprieve. You squirm on top of him, because the sensitivity really is too much, but a soft warmth in your wrists acts as a momentary distraction. 
Glancing up, you see the deep green ribbons that are now tying your wrists to the headboard, effectively immobilising you and leaving no option but to remain where you are. 
You feel Loki smirk between your thighs and the mischief that’s dancing in his eyes only confirms how absolutely fucked you are. “Please…no more…,” you plead weakly, but his sinful tongue remains deep in your cunt. 
Within seconds, the beginnings of another orgasm are fizzling in your core and, through the heavy haze that’s settled over your shoulders, you vaguely remember Loki’s delicious promise from earlier in the evening, only now you can see it for what it was: a threat. 
“I won’t stop, darling. You have my word.”
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lokisgoodgirl · 1 day ago
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I have learned your buttons over a long stretch of time, and they will be deployed when necessary 😂
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❤️❤️
Liberties [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After ruining the biggest night of your career, Loki ruins you, too. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Dickish Avenger!Loki. Language. Workplace romance. Rough(ish) smut. (w/c 3.1k)
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Folds of your expensive black dress swished as you stormed down the corridor of the forty-sixth floor. Everyone was still at the event. Or, The Shitstorm as it would now be known. Shame. Shouting at someone would really help right now.
You tore out the earpiece and slammed it on the nearest desk, shoving a pile of papers off the side for good measure. Laufeyson.
You’d spent months concocting the perfect debut for that greasy-haired, peacocking, gangly-limbed motherfucker. Did he say ‘thank you’? Did he smile and mind his P’s and Q’s and pose with the New York glitterati like he was supposed to for one night?
Nails sank into the soft flesh of your palm. Course he fucking didn’t.
After he’d gone off script during his speech, stating he could fix the woeful state of Earth’s political spectrum in thirty-seven minutes, it had all gone downhill. Insulting politicians, flirting egregiously with their wives…with their husbands.
The cool glass met your forehead as your rested against the door with your name on it. Director, it said. It didn’t feel like it. Fucking Laufeyson. He was unmanageable—just like his hair. He didn’t even comb it—bastard. You’d specifically requested it.
There was a bottle of whisky hidden in the bookcase behind a doorstop project management manual. You glanced down the empty corridor a final time and slipped inside the dark office, making straight for the bookcase. Pulling out the book concealing your beautiful, impending numbness, you frowned. The bottle was—
"I’m afraid I took the liberty," someone said.
You screamed, lobbing the book in the direction of the voice. It hit the flat, black back of your office chair with a pathetic thump.
The chair swivelled: glacial, infuriating. But you already knew. It was that voice; the one that made it impossible not to imagine him making snide remarks while he fucked you from behind with a fist knotted at your scalp. And besides, you could see the wavy, rumpled crown of his greasy fucking hair over the rim of the chair.
"How did you…What the hell are you doing in here? This is restricted—"
"Restricted?" Laufeyson barked out a weak laugh of reprimand. "Please."
He raised a hand, gaze fixed on the ornate glass of amber liquid cupped in his palm. It had been a present from Stark for your promotion, and the sting of your nails on your palm burned new. "This is really rather good, considering."
"Considering what?" "That it was produced on this planet." His eyes slid to yours, upper lip twitching as he said, "Another thing to add to its sparse list of accomplishments."
You pulled another book from the shelf and threw it at his face. It missed.
Loki didn’t flinch. He just sat there wearing his favourite smirk; one foot resting on his knee and his shadowed eyes glinting with curious observation. He’d removed the suit jacket—the one specifically tailored for this event—in his requested colour, a lush emerald green with gold trim.
Dickhead. You’d run yourself ragged for his petty demands. And then he’d fucked it all up anyway.
Realising your eyes were lingering on the suspenders stretched against the wall chest muscle, you tore them up to his face and forced coldness into your voice. "I literally left the event to get away from you, before I punched you in the face; you realise that?"
"I do."
You threw up your hands and turned towards the window, arms folded; watching the flash of traffic on the street below like luminous ants. Spotlights flashed across the night sky, crossing and weaving against each other in celebration of the biggest night of the year. "Stark will fire me for what you did."
Loki’s laugh was accompanied by a splutter of liquid. You shot a glare over your shoulder, catching him press the back of a hand against his mouth and shaking with mirth.
"I think not. Stark cares only for publicity—and…" He extended a hand with a self-congratulatory flourish before resting an elbow on the armrest, brushing a finger to his lips. "He knows what I’m like," he added with a coy brush of a smile.
Heat exploded beneath your skin.
Before you could think it through you were towering over Loki, a hand spread against his sternum. You pushed against muscle, letting the chair tilt ominously backwards. Loki’s eyes widened fractionally, dark eyebrows peaking in genuine surprise. "If you've ruined my career I will hunt you down and I will—"
"Hunt me down?" Loki purred. His eyes dropped to your hand pressed to his chest and rose slowly to your face. "I’m right here, as you can plainly see. No hunting necessary." His rumble caught on the T. "Being accosted, no less."
You released him with a grunt.
"Couldn’t you just behave? This was your big night…your official launch in the team, your new start. Why couldn’t you just be good for once?"
"Good?" Loki’s voice hardened. A green, glowing rectangle unfurled in the empty air beside his shoulder, and a shot from the ad campaign you’d organised several weeks ago filled the space.
Emblazoned in Stark Industries font across the image of Loki looking like a sexual apocalypse in a skin tight leather combat suit were the flickering words, ‘God of Mischief.’ And then, Loki said, "It’s in the name, darling. The one you selected—a new start was never part of the agreement, nor was it suggested. I believe the phrase was, ‘refreshed branding'…Was it not?"
He shifted, and somehow the muscles in his legs were outlined in the soft glow of a thousand skyscraper windows. "Same package, different wrapping, as it were."
Your brows rose, trying to keep the brittle defeat from your eyes. "Your behaviour tonight was unacceptable. You can’t go around comparing global foreign policy to Thanos’s bowel movements."
Loki waved a hand, sliding the glass over the desk with a scoff.
"My behaviour is always unacceptable; it’s part of the allure. The populous long for something raw, something unexpected. Something unmarred by inane pleasantries and fakery." His eyes slid upwards, nailing you like gas lamps in darkness. "Take you, for instance."
It was your turn to scoff. "I don’t see what I have to do with this."
Loki leant back in the chair, eyelids drooping. His tongue nipped over his lips in a flash of pink. "You very much want to have me; I can see it. I can smell it."
Your jaw loosened, mortification prickling over your skin as he added, "Carnally," as if it required explanation.
"You’re out of your fucking mind. I can’t stand you."
Loki’s lips curled, and you hated how much you wanted to suck the smirk off his goddam mouth. "Correct on both counts, I’m sure. It doesn’t change the inescapable reality that you want to know what I taste like."
Your tongue shaped words, and then you choked on them as Loki unfurled from the chair: all long limbs, slutty curls and slimfit tailoring. Oh Christ.
Your bare shoulder-blades met the window as he meandered across the floor without a care in the world; bladed cheekbones casting shadows across his skin; assassins emerging from the dark.
"You want to know what I fuck like," he said, words stirring like treacle. "Whether I’m generous, whether I’m as good as they say, whether I’m as brutish and punishing as part of you hopes I would be."
He stood in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, and leant forwards until his breath was hot on your forehead and the expensive cologne wafting from the open buttons of his shirt drifted up your nostrils. A short puff of mirth exhaled against your skin before he added, piercing, "But most of all, you want to know what I sound like when I cum."
He was awful: conceited, rude, imperious. But, fuck, he was right.
Your sweaty palms slid against the glass as he straightened and waited for a response. He sighed, and you found yourself staring at the strain of the buttons down the front of his shirt as he did.
"As I thought," said Loki, bored. "Paralysed by your desires—wasting away in a pit of indecision and regret as so many of your ilk." He shrugged, arms wide. "So be it."
Your hand shot out, yanking the nearest suspender and pulling his mouth to yours. Loki’s hand flew to the surface behind your head, and the wall of glass trembled.
His warrior body pressed firm against your chest, crushing you in the scent of desire and the primal heat radiating from his skin while your hands fisted in his hair and the god groaned into your throat.
He pulled back, frowning as your hand grasped at the erection pressing against his trousers. "Let me be clear," he growled. ‘I am no one’s pet. I will not be tamed. Is that understood?"
"Oh, will you shut up?" You tore at the buttons of his shirt, regretting the lack of nuance, before adding, "but, like, keep talking though."
Loki’s chuckle vibrated against your palms as the shirt slid over the curve of his biceps and then you were raking at his perfect skin, pulling his mouth to yours in a hateful mess of tongues and need and fire that ripped through your body.
Nimble fingers made quick work of his buckle, and Loki’s hands ran up the curve of your thighs, pushing the folds of your dress around your hips. "I've been longing to break you in..." he muttered, eyes shining in the light from New York’s glittering skyline.
You yanked his hair, and Loki hissed with pleasure. "I’m not a virgin; weirdo," you gasped, grasping his thick, perfect cock in a punishing fist.
His lips spread with a wolfish grin. "Ah, but you’ve never been fucked by me."
One of his hands slipped between your legs and trailed through the wetness it found. He moaned softly, massaging your clit like oil. Your head fell against the window as he slipped a long, elegant finger inside you. It was disgusting how much you wanted him, and you’d let yourself feel every, traitorous moment.
His digits curled, stoking the same, exquisite spot again, and again— "such a pretty, warm cunt," he whispered, filthy—as whines slid from your lips. "And to think, you’ve been denying yourself."
Loki tsk’d, his free hand playing at your exposed neck. He sucked a bruising kiss into your throat as hot cum welled around his fingers, holding you upright, balanced against the thigh shoved between your legs.
"Fuck me," you gasped, grappling at his shoulders. He said nothing. You met his eyes; slivers of blue visible on the rim of wide, black pools. "Like…fuck me, fuck me."
"I knew you’d want me rough," he said quietly, drawing his knuckles down your cheek. The hand fell to the neckline of your dress and before you could even inhale, a mighty rip sent your dress scattering across the floor.
Loki’s covetous eyes roamed your chest, your body; his chin dipped, his eyes glazed with lust. "Over there." He motioned with his head.
You followed the order and gripped the back of one of the two chairs positioned by the window. Leather slid under the sheen clinging to your palms. Loki’s touch cupped your hips, his hands grazing appreciatively over bare skin.
"I knew it would be tonight," he murmured, pressing his cock into the base of your spine. His breath was hot on your throat. "As soon as I saw the utter loathing in your eyes; I knew it would be the one."
He twisted your hair back, biting the curve of your shoulder with unbearable erotic restraint. You pressed your ass into his crotch, moaning his name under your breath as he traced a finger down your spine until he reached the cock leaking precum over your skin.
Positioning between your legs, he rubbed the column twice through your slick lips before sheathing himself on the third.
The two of you gasped in unison; the guttural growl of Loki’s voice making your knees tremble before he delivered the first, devastating thrust. The force of it sent the chair screeching over the floor.
"G-gods…you’re tight," he choked, withdrawing and circling the crown at the tip of your channel. "I knew you would be perfect…but…but…"
Another thrust and the chair hit the window, but you didn’t care. Loki filled every part of you; you’d never felt so exposed, so free, with every fluid buck of his hips which made stars burst behind your eyelids. He bottomed out with a grunt of your name, balls slapping against your clit, one hand flying to the glass above your head and making a messy streak as it fell.
"Not enough," he said, breathless. The god pulled you upright and kissed you with the force of a storm, gathering you in his arms. The next thing you felt was the cool desk on your ass, Loki spreading your thighs and the utter joy of him breaching the empty space inside you he’d ruined for all other men.
One hand roughly palmed at your breasts, the other cradling your skull as every trinket you’d every owned rattled on the desk. Somewhere, something cracked. He went harder, pounding deeper with each snap of his hips that slapped against your skin.
There was a clink, a melodic roll, and then a smash. The sharp scent of whisky filled the air. You began to look but Loki pulled your chin to face him.
"On me," he ordered, eyes narrowed. There was a faint flush in his cheeks. "On me. Always."
Your legs wound around Loki’s hips. One kiss slid into another, his bucks becoming frantic as climax burst inside you with a rattle of his name. He lowered you to the desk, sliding his glistening cock from your cunt and kissing down your abdomen.
As you craned up, slack-jawed, the god delivered a single, earth-trembling lick up the centre of your pussy; gathering himself on his tongue. He swallowed, pacing behind you and seating himself on your chair.
You sat up, observing him over your shoulder. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, thanks to you, pale skin shimmering pearl in the honeyed gloom. He looked up beneath his lashes—smouldering—slender fingers wrapped around the cock protruding from splayed fabric; pumping in fluid strokes.
He cocked an eyebrow, and it was as good as a beckon from one of those slender fingers.
Shifting from the desk, you sank to your knees, and Loki’s legs widened. The fabric of his trousers creased maddeningly over the meat of his thighs.
"Tell me you haven’t thought about this," he said, baiting. He could smell lies as keenly as sulphur. "That you haven’t wanted to choke on my cock."
It wasn’t a question.
You fixed your eyes on his as you settled a hand around the root and swallowed the tip.
Loki’s eyes rolled back, head falling to the back of the chair. Black waves dripped down his shoulders like spilled ink, every thrust of his hips into your mouth making new combinations of filthy curses rattle from his chest.
A hand settled on your head, following the motion as your mouth worked back and forth along the length of him: sucking, licking, grazing the sensitive tip with your teeth. Loki hissed, fingers tightening in your hair.
"Fucking Norns, you are a slut," he muttered appreciatively.
You doubled down, and soon Loki’s balls tightened. Something shifted as he stiffened, the hand in your hair flying to the armrest. His breaths were short, moans brief and ragged as he fought himself. "Finish me," he growled, tapered to a whine. One, calculated suck was all it took. Loki’s climax trembled down his body, spurting into your mouth like a tide of warm, smooth butter. Your tongue circled the tip, massaging him through the throes as his body shuddered a final time and a staggered sigh rocked the air.
A finger slipped beneath your chin, tilting up to meet his expectant smirk. "Well?" Loki asked, eyes glinting. "Was I everything you dreamt of?"
The lazy smile on your face evaporated. You brushed the hand aside, covering your breasts. Loki frowned.
"There’s no need for that, believe me." He guided your hands into his and pulled you to his lap. "Do you recall when I mentioned this realm’s sparse list of accomplishments?" You grunted reluctant confirmation. Loki sucked your earlobe between his teeth, releasing a contented sigh. "Your body is most definitely on that list." He paused, breath catching. "All of you, truth be told," he added quietly.
Before you had time to process what he'd said, you were standing.
Loki’s fingers fastened the buttons of his shirt with unnatural speed as you stared forlornly at the ripped dress on the floor. Fuck. There was a sweatsuit hanging in the small wardrobe stashed in the corner. That would have to do—you could slip out the side entrance, no need to…
"I’ll see you downstairs?" Loki asked, all business. He looked at you expectantly as the bespoke forest green suit jacket melted over his torso like paint. You’d forgotten how good he looked in it and resolved never to forget it ever again.
The god carded a hand through his hair, letting in fall in wild waves. The outline of his erection was still visible through the tight trousers. Did I really just fuck…Loki Laufeyson? A sick pride sprouted in your belly.
You crouched and picked up the tattered, black fabric. "I don’t think so, I mean—" Loki’s kiss cut you off. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away.
"I’ll see you downstairs," he repeated softly. "Someone has to make sure I’m behaving myself, after all."
You rolled your eyes, trying not to stare as he swaggered to the door and shot a grin through the glass panels as he passed.
He has a point, though. You couldn’t let him go unattended. What if he gets one of the senators’ wives alone? What if he sexes them up...like me?
The thought, however ridiculous it would have been an hour ago, was like a knife between your ribs.
You scurried to the wardrobe concealed in the corner and opened it, cursing the fact you didn’t keep a spare office dress like the slinky bitches on TV.
You stared, blinking several times.
Hanging in the wardrobe was an identical dress to the one lying shredded on the floor. Almost identical. You pulled it out, holding the hanger up. In the glow of the midnight skyline, green jewels glittered around the neckline, woven in intricate patterns that melted into the folds of skirt. A note was pinned to the bodice. I can be good, it said. Our secret.
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Tags in comments 💖🥰 Come say hi!
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mischiefmaker615 · 2 months ago
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I’d Still Take It LOL
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cleo-fox · 1 year ago
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Surrender
Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.
No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.
(Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.
A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.
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The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.
At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.
He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.
He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.
“Show me your wrist,” he says.
You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.
His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.
It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.
He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.
You do, of course. What other choice do you have?
*
The next several hours are a blur.
You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?
It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.
You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.
You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.
You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.
They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.
You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.
You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.
You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.
*
It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.
You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.
“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.
“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.
He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.
“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.
*
You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.
Or that was your plan, anyway.
Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.
The room is much colder at night.
You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.
You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.
You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.
But you also have to pee.
You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.
The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.
Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.
Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.
“Come to bed,” Loki says.
You clear your throat. “What?”
“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”
You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.
You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.
You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.
“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.
“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.
You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”
He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.
You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.
He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.
And after a while, yours does, too.
*
Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.
It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.
It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.
But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.
But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.
You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.
“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.
God fucking dammit.
You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.
“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.
He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.
“It won’t happen again,” you say.
It does.
This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.
But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.
Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.
The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.
The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.
This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.
You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.
You open a private browser window and pull up Google.
Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.
The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.
You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.
But only nearly and only for now.
*
The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.
Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.
You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.
Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.
When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.
The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.
The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.
Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.
But not yet. Not yet.
*
Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.
You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.
You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.
The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.
You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.
“You were calling out in your sleep.”
More heat prickles at your skin.
“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.
“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.
He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”
He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”
You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?
He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 
“You flatter yourself,” you say.
You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”
Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”
Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.
“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.
“Nothing,” you say.
He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”
You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.
“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.
Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.
“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”
Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.
“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”
You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.
The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.
You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.
You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.
There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.
You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.
“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”
You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”
He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.
You barely manage a breathy affirmative.
“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”
“Please,” you breathe.
“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”
“Don’t stop,” you say.
“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”
You nod, slack jawed and panting.
“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”
You whimper, your hips rocking.
“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.
“I need to come,” you moan.
“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”
A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”
His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.
“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.
“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.
His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”
You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”
He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”
“Is it working?” you ask.
He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”
You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 
You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”
Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”
You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.
“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls.
You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”
“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”
Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”
His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.
“Good girl,” he says.
And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.
You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.
You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.
You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.
The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.
“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.
You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.
So close.
“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”
You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.
Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.
It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.
He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.
“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.
“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”
It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.
“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”
He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.
Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.
Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.
He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 
Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.
You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.
“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.
“Will you show me?” you ask.
“Every day,” he says.
It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.
He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.
You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.
But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.
“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.
You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.
Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.
You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.
But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.
Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.
“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”
There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.
“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”
You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.
“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”
You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.
In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 
A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”
You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”
It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.
The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 
As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.
“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”
“Getting close,” you breathe.
“I know, I can feel you,” he says.
You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.
“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.
It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.
He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.
“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”
You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.
“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”
He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.
“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.
Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.
“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.
You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.
“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”
You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”
Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.
Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.
His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.
You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.
Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.
For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.
10K notes · View notes
mysecretlittlelibrary · 10 months ago
Text
Touch Tank
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)
Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao
Genre: fluff, smut
Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.
He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie
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***
You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.
"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.
"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.
"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.
"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.
"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"
"Aw we're gonna miss you!"
"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.
"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"
"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.
"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.
"I see."
"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.
"What?" He scoffs.
"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.
"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.
"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.
"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.
"Do you want them now or at a later date?"
"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."
"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.
"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.
"Yes but only a little one."
"A little one?"
"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.
"Why?"
"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.
"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.
"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."
"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.
"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.
"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.
"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.
You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.
*~*~*
"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.
"What?" He rolls his eyes.
"Are you busy?" You ask.
"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.
"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"
"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.
"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.
"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"
"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.
"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.
"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.
"How short is short notice?"
"We need to be there in forty minutes."
"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.
"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.
"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.
"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"
"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.
"Ready Lo?" You ask.
"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.
"What?"
"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"
"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.
"And how is that going?"
"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.
"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.
"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.
"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.
"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.
"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 
"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"
"Sure." He nods.
"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.
"They have more open tanks of creatures?"
"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.
"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"
"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.
"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.
"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.
"You bribed me."
"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."
"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."
"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.
"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.
~*~*~
You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.
"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.
"It's 3pm y/n."
"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.
"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.
"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."
"You've been coming here a lot lately."
"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"
"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."
"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.
"Very funny." Loki scoffs.
"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.
"Must you be so-"
"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"
"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.
"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.
"Are you trying to get under my skin?"
"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."
"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.
"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."
"And why would you think that?"
"Because you always do."
"Do what?"
"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.
"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.
"Mother." He gets her attention.
"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."
"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.
"What troubles you my dear son?"
"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.
"A woman? Do you feel for her?"
"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.
"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"
"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.
"Have you considered that you feel for her?"
"How would I know?"
"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"
"She lives here so yes." He nods.
"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.
"What?"
"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."
"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."
"What do you mean?"
"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."
"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.
"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.
"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.
"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"
"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."
"What makes you think that?"
"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."
"I resent that notion." He scoffs.
"What made you contact me?"
"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.
"She was with you Loki?"
"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."
"What did she say?" Frigga asks.
"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."
"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"
"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.
"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"
"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."
"Tell me about her."
"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"
"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.
"Why are you smiling like that."
"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."
"My heart is very much still-"
"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."
"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.
"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."
"You keep saying that-"
"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."
"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.
"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.
"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.
"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."
"What if she is not waiting?"
"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."
"I do not get in my own way."
"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.
"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.
"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."
"Of course mother. Take care."
"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.
*~*~*
When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.
"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.
"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.
"You're sitting on the couch?"
"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.
"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."
"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.
"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.
"Would you like me to leave?"
"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."
"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."
"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.
"Of course not." You hum.
"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."
"Well don't let me bother you then."
"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."
"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.
"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."
"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.
~*~*~
"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.
"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.
"You know our coffee shop?"
"Around the block?"
"Yep!" She nods.
"What of it?"
"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."
"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.
"Cassie told me."
"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.
"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.
"I'm eating a sandwich-"
"Not right now, tomorrow morning."
"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.
"It's Elliot."
"Oh he's cute-"
"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.
"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.
"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.
"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.
"Hello." He mutters.
"What brings you out of hiding today?"
"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."
"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.
"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.
"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"
"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.
"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.
"No, I don't."
"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."
"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.
"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."
"You said I look constipated!"
"Well you do! But only a little bit!"
"This is not going at all how I planned it?"
"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.
"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."
"Easier to do what?"
"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.
"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."
"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.
"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.
"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.
"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.
"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.
"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."
"I am far from incapable." He says.
"So spill it." You push.
"And if I don't?"
"Then you're not who I thought you were."
"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.
"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"
"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.
"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.
"You." He whispers.
"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.
"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.
"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.
"If I'm lucky."
"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."
"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.
"No? It sounds like it."
"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"
"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."
"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.
"Is that what you want?"
"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.
"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."
"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."
"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.
"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.
"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.
"Yes was I not clear about-"
"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.
"You vex me." He breathes out.
"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."
"Don't boast."
"How can I not?" You ask.
"I can think of a few ways to stop you."
"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.
"How's that for sway?" He smirks.
"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.
"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.
"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.
"What do you mean?" He frowns.
"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.
"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"
"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"
"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.
"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."
"Precisely."
"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."
"Do you not like gentle?"
"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.
"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.
"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.
"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.
"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.
"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.
"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.
"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.
"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.
"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.
"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.
"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.
"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.
"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.
"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."
Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.
"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.
"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.
"Well what is?" You ask.
"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.
"How am I the tricky one here?"
"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."
"What fox? Are you the fox?"
"Mhm." He nods.
"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.
"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.
***
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underthemexicansun · 10 months ago
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The way my eyes rolled back at the unbuttoning his jacket with one hand.
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consciouscarrot · 3 months ago
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day 19 - breeding [l.laufeyson]
loki x fem!reader
content warnings; p in v, creampie (obvi), one mention of daddy but it’s in a ‘make you one’ way rather than a ‘ooo daddy’ way (this time)
notes; i’m late and it’s shit again but at least i posted lolz
kinktober/flufftober masterlist
—————
morning sunlight poured through the cracks in the curtains as the sounds of your moans and the bed banging against the wall filled the room.
he had your legs bent over his shoulders, hands pressing your thighs down into your chest, cock pounding into you with lewd slaps of skin on skin. his face was hovering just above yours, noses so close that it would only take a deep inhale for them to touch, his dark hair curtaining off your faces away.
you clung to him, pointed nails scratching crimson lines down his broad back as you tried to pull him closer, overcome with pleasure. icy hands ran over your flushed skin, sliding towards your tits, squeezing the supple flesh before leaning down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive nub.
you cried out, high pitched moans tumbling out as you brought a hand to cup at the back of his head, encouraging him to keep lapping at you.
you’re enraptured by the feel of his mouth, such intensity on your sensitive flesh, strong suction causing your slick to gush around his long cock.
he pulls away slowly, focus still stuck on your tits, “fuck, can’t wait for the day these are filled with milk for our children.”
his eyes flicked up when you involuntarily clenched around his thick cock, surprise covering his features.
“oh you dirty girl,” he purred, tilting your jaw up to meet him in a desperate kiss, tongues swirling together, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.
your legs began to shake over his shoulders, knees closing in around his neck. he panted into your mouth, brows scrunched together at the breathtaking feel of your cunt, slick walls tight around his pulsing cock.
“going to fill you up with my babies, you want that, darling? want me to make you a mother?”
“please, wanna feel it, want your babies,”
all it took was a few swipes over your clit and your release was flowing through you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hands gripped at him, trying to keep yourself grounded as white light flashed behind your lids.
“oh, good girl, fuck i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up,”
shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, you brought your hands up to his hair, tugging just enough for pain to turn to pleasure, keeping your eyes locked on his as you whispered to him, “let me make you a daddy.”
you moaned at the feel of his spend coating your insides, thick cum spurting inside you as you fist at his hair, clenching down at his rough groans. his eyes bore into yours, noses pressed together as you breathing slowed.
he carefully pulled out, whispering a ‘sh sh sh’ when you whimpered as he watched his cum spill out of you. he collected it with his fingertips, smearing it over your puffy cunt before pushing it back inside, plugging you full, looking up at you with a grin.
“i think we’ll need to do that a few more times, you know, just to make sure it takes.”
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