#Loki: its easier if you try not to look at his chin... or face... or anything in his general direction...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 43

Joyous Walpurgisnacht: Part I

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Here we go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you stand from the table, your name draws your attention from your plate. Mr. Laufeyson mirrors you as he peers over at his mother. You notices how his fingers twiddle by his side. 

“You’ll come get ready with us, dear,” Frigga says, “Trina is coming to do our hair an makeup. Be sure to grab your dress.”

“Oh, uh…” you look at Laufeyson and he shrugs with one shoulder. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry about my brother,” Hela snorts, “I’m certain he’ll be torturing himself over the proper shade of white; shall I go for the ivory or the pearl?”

“Quiet,” Laufeyson sneers under his breath before he turns to you, “go on then,” he looks at his watch, “we all have much to do.”

He strides past you and you watch after him. He’s still upset. It’s your fault. You’ve been errant in your duties. You will make it up to him. At Walpurgisnacht, you won’t dare leave his side.

“Come,” Frigga beckons to you, “Hel, you too.”

“Yes, mother,” she drones and rounds the table.

You follow them to the door, only noticing as you approach that Thor’s done the same. He keeps a step back as he waves within, “after you, lady.”

“Er, thanks,” you eke out and step in ahead of him.

He’s quick to tail you, his fingers sending a shiver through you as he touches the back of your arm, “happy birthday, little one. How old are you now?” He asks.

You wince and hug yourself, keeping your chin down as he matches your pace. Frigga reaches to flick a strand of Hela’s black hair as she gabs on about it. You chew your lip and crane to look over your shoulder. You don’t see Odin, he must’ve stuck behind to chat with the staff.

“Thirty-two,” you answer as you face straight.

“Mmm, not too old,” his hand brushes across your back, “you look much younger.”

“Thank you, uh,” you stutter as his touch ventures further, tickling the top of your ass. Your panic swells and you bat him away, “I… have to go.”

You don’t know how to make him stop, but you can control yourself. You rush ahead to catch up to Frigga. As you come up at her side, Thor’s low rocky chuckle rolls through the air. You don’t look back as your blood runs cold. You don’t know why he won’t leave you alone.

“Ah, dear, I think we could put some flowers in your hair,” Frigga remarks as she waves you ahead of her up the stairs, “to go with that pretty dress of yours.”

“Sure,” you agree.

“She’ll look like a bride,” Hela scoffs, “perhaps just some diamonds around her neck–”

“Pearls,” Frigga argues.

“Pearls? She’s not an old lady yet,”

“Eh? Pearls are nice,” Frigga counters.

“Perhaps for you,” Hela rebuffs, “babe,” Hela swoops around her mother and drapes her arm over your shoulders as you turn down the hall, “what do you prefer?”

You blink, finding it hard to breathe through the tension. You don’t dare pick a side.

“I like the dress on its own,” you say.

“Ah, yes, she’s right, it is so nice, it would be ruined with too much,” Frigga hums, “how about just the petals,” she reaches to touch your hair, “a small accent but not garish.”

“Mm, yes, like a little fairy,” Hela muses as she retracts her arm, “I’m afraid I’m going for more of a witchy vibe.”

“Oh dear,” Frigga mutters, “Hel.”

“A good witch, mother, never fear.”

✨

You look in the mirror, swept away by your own reflection. The small white flowers in your hair are placed so delicately and just so, matching with those on the dress in their fluttery display. You skin seems to glow from the precise application of makeup, your lashes are long and curved but not too heavy. Your lips are painted a natural hue with a glossy finish and a touch of blush lends colour to your cheeks. It feels like a lot but looks like less.

The dress is just as wonderful as you remember. The outer layer decorated in carefully cut flowers over the simple dress of white beneath. The skirt flows to your lower calves, ending just above the straps of your heels, a bow on the back of each. You blink and tilt your head at your reflection, is it really you looking back?

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hela growls as she steps up behind you, “uh, so darling.”

“You look amazing, dear,” Frigga calls over.

You turn to watch the older woman pin on large dangling earrings. She wears a white dress hemmed below her knees with large fanned bell sleeves. Her necklace is strung with pearls that get large towards the centre and her silver and gold hair is spun into loose waves pushed back behind an elaborate headband with golden points.

Hela is dressed much less elegantly. Her jumpsuit is taut to her figure, the neckline cute so deep you wonder how it stays up. She wears a sort of cowl, sparkling with diamond as it goes from chin to shoulders, a larger gem dangling down her cleavage.

“Well, I think we’re almost there,” Frigga announces breezily, “come, come.”

She ushers you and Hela from the room into the hall. The house is buzzing with activity. As you come downstairs, you’re lost amid the flurry. The kitchen is bustling with furor and workers flit around like bees in a hive. You stay close to the other women as they walk unfettered through the rush.

You come out to the veranda, clutching the sides of your skirt as you watch your feet, careful not to trip on your heels. In the sunlight, Frigga sighs, and calls to someone. You look up and follow her down the steps. 

The lush green flat of the yard is entirely changed. A white floral arch, white cloth draping over the roofs of newly erected tents, tables in similarly silky ivory, petals scattered all around as stems are capped with full blooms atop posts, in plinthed vases, and around tables. A stage stands, blocking out much of the garden, a bar along an edge of the expanse with several workers behind it arranging glasses and bottles.

“Yvonne,” Frigga trills again, “come, come, we should like some photos.”

A woman in a white suit approaches with a large camera in hand. She is tall with full hips emphasized by the cut of her clothing. Her strawberry blond hair is twisted into a high bun with two pin straight pieces framing her face.

“Hello, Von,” Hela purrs at her familiarly. The women glance at each other and an eyebrow twitches. They know each other. Everyone does but you.

“This is our photographer,” Frigga introduces you to Yvonne, “she’ll be taking pictures so don’t mind if you see a flash or two through the night.” She turns back to the strawberry blonde, “hm, where are the men? They must be here…”

You fold your hands and sway back and forth. Surely you won’t be included. This is for the family. You’ll just stand to the side.

“Ah, Odin!” Frigga throws her hands up, greeting her husband as he approaches in a white pressed shirt beneath a matching stiff vest and white slacks. He wears a golden chain around his collar and cufflinks at his wrists. His shoes also bear golden buckles. “There you are. Where are your sons?”

“So quick to disown them,” Odin kids, “they were…” he looks back.

Thor clamours down from the veranda, combing out his long blond hair which he’s let loose from its usual bun. The waves fall to his shoulders, just along his open collar, unbuttoned to boast the thick muscles of his chest. He beams in white just like everyone else. A gold medallion hangs from his neck and his fingers are stacked with rings.

Loki follows last, shoulders high, hands staunchly tucked into his pockets. He looks at the sky as he appears in his simple attire. White shirt, white tie, white slacks cute perfectly to his sleek figure. White loafers with plain silver buckles. His black hair is swept back, the front pieces drawn back into a clip behind his head as the tails curl out behind his ears.

As he takes the same path as his father and brother, his eyes search and find you. His irises flicker and his brows arch. You avert your gaze and look at the grass, fidgeting as you wait awkwardly to the side. Frigga preens at each son and tells them how handsome they look.

“Alright, alright, we’ll get a few photos before the guests arrive,” she claps her hands.

There’s movement along the edge of your vision. You keep your head down as Frigga orders her family around. You flinch as she grabs your wrist suddenly and pulls your hands apart.

“Right here, dear,” she guides you next to Odin before she stands at his other side. “Okay, everyone, no scowling.”

You look up, wide eyed and the camera flashes. You bat your lashes and put on a smile as Odin bends his arm behind you, resting his hand on your lower back. The gesture calms you as the photographer counts down.

You stand frozen as the camera shutters, wondering why you’re there. What will they do with the photos when you are irrelevant? Finally, you’re allowed to disperse as Frigga struts over to Yvonne to have a look at the photos.

You turn nearly collide with Mr. Laufeyson before you can even think to look for him. You back up as he stares at you. He raises a hand as if to touch your arm then thinks better of it. He clear his throat and tugs on his skinny tie.

“That is a beautiful dress,” he remarks, “very on theme.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson,” you sniff and rub your palms together.

“Stay close,” he says tersely, clearing his throat, “or…” you hear his tone soften, “I might lose you in the flowers.”

His lips curve, just a little. Is he joking? You’re not sure.

“Come,” he jabs his fingers through the air, “let us get a drink before it is too busy.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

You walk beside him and he sighs. No, you’re not sure he was being funny. He’s still unhappy.

As you reach the bar, he greets the workers in white behind it. He orders whiskey on ice, then turns to you. For a moment, you’re taken back to the night you found him with the same drink… that was the first, maybe the only time, you saw him so human.

“What would you like?” He asks.

“Um, I don’t… know,” you murmur.

“Our cocktails,” a worker points to the standing list of drinks. You lean in and read each. 

“Oh, uh, could I get the lavender lemonade, please?”

“Yes, miss,” the worker replies and sets to mixing the drink. Laufeyson takes his and holds it tight.

“Lokiiiii,” a familiar brogue rumbles through the air.

You turn to face Bragi as he approaches. A pocket watch swings from his vest, though he wears no shirt beneath it. You greet him with a tight-lipped smile.

“And his lady,” he smirks at you, “you haven’t seen Fossegrim, have you?”

“You brought that creature?”

“Ah, he tagged along. He chased off a chickadee and I’ve not seen him since. Never to worry,” he snaps his fingers, "I'm all set up.” He nods towards the stage, “and look at you too, pretty in white.” He looks at you pointedly, “I must say, you look like a goddess. I was also let in on a secret,” he declares, “it is your birthday. Happy birthday, did you have a favourite song? I might fit it into my set.”

“Um…” you think. “I don’t…” you look over as Mr. Laufeyson reaches back to take another glass from the bar and offers you the purple drink. You take it with a meek nod before facing Bragi again, “there was this song… from a movie… Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She sings it on the balcony but I can’t remember how it goes.”

“Oh, yes, I know the one. Beloved Hepburn, what a treat she was,” he purrs, “I think I can figure out the chords.”

“You don’t have to…” you shrug.

“I want to,” he insists, “oh and watch for dark shadows, Fossegrim will surely return once he smells food.”

“Sure,” you agree and squeeze the glass tight. Laufeyson just hums in his throat.

“Anyhow, I need water,” he sidles past you, “happy Walpurgisnacht!”

You return the sentiment before you step away. You peer around, uncertain what to do next. Your heels sink into the grass and you pull them out, teetering. Laufeyson glances over at you.

“Shall we sit?” He asks.

“Erm, okay.”

He waves you ahead of him and you weave over to one of the tables. You sit and put your glass down without tasting it. He sips his own as he lowers himself. He’s tense, setting it down with a heavy clunk.

You look around and see new faces arriving. It’s beginning. Your stomach churns as each guest appears. It really is a big deal.

“You are nervous,” Laufeyson intones, bringing you back to the table.

“A little.”

“Mm,” he pokes his tongue in his cheek, “well, then, even more reason to stay by my side. I’ve navigated these waters all my life, I can stave off the sharks.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

His lips slant and he spreads his hand over his chest before dragging it down, “and…” his throat bobs, “happy birthday, if I forgot to say.”

“Um, thank you,” you squeak, “it isn’t a very big deal.”

He inhales, “it isn’t? By your choice or… his?”

You shrug, “I never made it one. Really, just another year.”

“Certainly, time does keep on now matter what,” he mulls.

You’re quiet. You take the drink and look at it. It’s a lovely colour. You take a sip; it’s tangy but nice, a little kick under the citrus notes. Your cheeks pinch as you put it back down.

“Too strong?” he asks.

“No, it’s good,” you assure him, careful not to drip any on your dress.

He taps his fingers on the tabletop, “I must say, you do look rather… rather nice.”

“Oh, yes, um, Trina, your mother’s friend…” you utter, “she did it.”

You look at him, finding his eyes rapt upon you. His gaze almost takes your breath away. He reaches to touch your hand, leaning in just a little. His eyes flick past you suddenly and he stops, his hand lightly over your as he sits frozen.

You turn to peek over your shoulder. You hear Thor’s thundering voice as he greets someone. A perfect swoop of dark hair bounces before him and he embraces the tall, slender woman. You know, even without seeing her face, who it is. Sif.

You bring your other hand over Laufeyson’s and press it down firmly as you face him, “are you alright?”

His eyes skitter back to you and he slips his hand free. You deflate as he instead takes his glass and slurps with a scowl. Walpurgisnacht will not be a new beginning, only a reminder of old wounds.

[worstloki]

[Helheim]

Hela: Hello brother, what brings you back

Loki, crying: He didn't tell me I'm adopted! or jotun!!

Hela: on the bright side, ur not related to the #&!%er

Loki, wiping away tears: i tried so hard to be wortHY

Hela: as a warmonger his standards are not the best

Loki sobbing: ODIN IS SUCH A ^&%#ing &*^#%&*#^!

Hela: Well, you're not wrong

---

Hela, filing her nails: back so soon?

Loki: I decided to kill off the main character in the book I'm writing because I thought it'd spice up my autobiography a little

Hela: you're writing something?

Loki: I call it 'the tragedy of loki' and its a comedic parody about what a ^&%*ing hypocrite Odin is

Hela: I like the sound of that. Save me a copy?

Loki: Of course, I may have been stabbed through the chest but I've retained my manners and it would be only fitting for you to be gifted the original transcript.

Hela: its a play?

Loki: Yes, and in case you were wondering, its going to be commissioned by Odin himself :)

Hela: ooOOoooh metatheatrical elements. I like.

---

Loki: YOU TOOK HIS EYE!!

Hela: I thought it would add some irony

Loki, laughing: AND you were right! You went a bit off-script but it was dramatic and in the end Asgard burnt down and that's all I really wanted so thank you for playing along! Thor actually ASKED me to burn everything!!

Hela: eh. its not like the place deserved to stick around. Odin was a &*%^ing ^&%*er who ^&%@ing deserved his imperialist society to crumble.

Loki, nodding sagely: we did a good thing AND got the prophecy fulfilled. All in all a win-win situation.

Hela: Except for whatever happened after for you to end up here dead again apparently

Loki: ah, about that... Thanos killed me

Hela: Oh. Right. Him. Give me a second to pack and I'll head back to the world of the living with you

Loki: You'll help?!

Hela: well I guess I cant let him waltz around increasing traffic flow in my domain...

Loki: yes that would truly be horrible

---

Thanos: I. am. inevitable.

Thanos: *is impaled on a GIANT sword that came out of the ground*

Hela: Right so now that that's done I guess I should apologise for taking Thor's eye

Loki: It would be funnier if you pretended you were still evil, especially since the midgardians already think of me as a villain...

Hela, laughing: sounds fun.

Loki: we'll get something to eat - maybe shawarma? - and you can stare menacingly at them as they pretend they're not scared of fighting us

Hela: Shawarma sounds good. *pulling the gauntlet off thanos* do you want to do it?

Loki, putting the gauntlet on and snapping: I bet they'll still think i'm pure evil and planning to betray them even after bringing back half the universe

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

A Glorious Moment in Sakaar

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: You’ve always disliked Loki, but when you end up stranded with him on an unknown planet, you put your hatred aside in order to work together. Turns out, the only thing you really hate is how much you actually like him. 

Warnings: weapons, violence, enemies to lovers, implied smut

A/N: Had this in my drafts and just decided to post it... I’m definitely in a Loki mood on this fine day haha. 

I hope you all enjoy and as always, feedback is appreciated :)

Loki Masterlist

Out of all the people in the world who you could’ve gotten stranded with on an unknown, trash planet, Loki is the last person you’d wish to accompany you. 

As soon as the two of you get thrown off the Bifrost and land on random dirty roads, he speaks. “Well, this looks rather unpleasant.” 

Rolling your eyes, you don’t bother to respond, instead opting to scan the area around you. Wherever you landed, it’s heavily polluted. 

“I think I’d rather have ended up in Hel,” Loki complains, his hands on his hips as he surveys with you. 

“I wish you had.” 

Loki looks over at you and chuckles. “What? Don’t want to be stranded here with your favorite God?” 

You pretend to frantically look around. “What do you mean? I don’t see Thor anywhere.” 

“Very funny.” 

“I know I am,” you say before smirking at him and walking away. Loki is quick to match your pace. 

“Let’s try to find some type of civilization and figure out an escape plan.” 

Continuing to walk, you head towards a tall skyscraper-like building that you see in the distance. “Already on it.” You point ahead to show Loki. 

Loki scoffs. “No need to point. I noticed it a while ago.” 

“Sure you did.” 

“I did. I’m a God for crying out loud. I sense things long before-”

A knife sits at the base of your throat, stopping you in place. You look over at Loki who’s in the same predicament. 

“Loki?” you ask before you’re pulled back harshly, the knife lightly grazing your skin. Loki growls, lunging towards you. 

“Hurt them and you’ll all suffer merciless deaths by my hand.” 

You gasp at Loki’s protectiveness. Is it possible he cares for you? No, don’t even think about it. You hate this man. Remember?

The man behind Loki laughs at him before looking over at his partner. “I think the Grandmaster would like this one.” 

The person behind you nods. “Let’s take ‘em in.” 

You share one last glance with Loki before a bag is thrown over your head, preventing you from seeing anything else.

---

The bag’s removed from your head and you squint, your eyes adjusting to the harsh overhead lighting. You’re strapped to a chair, seated right next to Loki. 

In front of you is a man. He’s tall in nature, just like Loki, and he’s smiling at the two of you. 

“Where the hell are we?” You ask, struggling against the restraints. 

The unknown man walks up to you before speaking. “Now, there’s no reason to do that. I’m just simply feeling you out before deciding whether to kill you or not.” 

Again, Loki speaks up, surprisingly coming to your defense. “You’ll have to get through me before you even think of touching them.”

The man laughs at this and turns his attention onto Loki. “You must be the one they said I’d like… Seems like they were right. I do like you.” He claps his hands together. “Okay, so here’s the deal. You’re on my planet, Sakaar. I’m what they call the Grandmaster and usually with newcomers, I’d either kill them or throw them into the pits… which I guess is also death, but that’s not the point! The point is I like you two… especially you.” He points at Loki. “So, great news! You’re welcome to stay, I mean once people land here, they never really leave…” He awkwardly smiles at that, not knowing what else to say. 

You look over at Loki, who’s already staring your way. The two of you gaze at each other silently before the Grandmaster once again claps his hands. “Let’s get the cuffs off these two!” 

Once the cuffs are opened, you rub your wrists and stand up. The Grandmaster motions for the two of you to get away. “Go! Go mingle and have some fun!” 

You look around the room and notice a gathering of people a few feet away. They’re all drinking and dancing, seemingly having the time of their lives. 

You grab Loki’s arm and guide him towards the crowd. “C’mon, we gotta find a busy area to talk.” 

Loki pulls his arm from your grasp. “Shouldn’t we find somewhere quiet to talk privately?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, because then someone might hear us.” 

“So instead, we’re to talk in the middle of a gathering?” 

Shaking your head in irritation, you gesture towards the group of people. “They all seem drunk! Sounds like the perfect opportunity to blend in and discuss.” 

Loki sighs. “Very well. I need a drink first.” 

As he walks towards the bar, you once again grab his arm, stopping him in place. “What’re you doing?” 

“I just told you. I’m getting a drink.” 

“We need to be level-headed for this.” 

He scoffs. “Darling, I really think you’ve forgotten that I’m a God. I can’t get drunk.” 

“Yes, you can. I’ve witnessed it multiple times.” 

He shakes his head. “I was just full.” 

“That’s not the point! Just please-” You look towards the dancefloor. “Dance with me.” 

“Pardon me?”

Instead of answering, you grab his hand and drag him over to the other dancers, pulling him flush against you, your back to his chest. You swear you hear Loki gasp as you sway your hips against him. 

“What’re you doing?” His mouth is right next to your ear, his hands moving to grip your waist tightly. Your body heats up with his touch and you want to scream over its betrayal. 

You turn your head slightly to look up at him. “We need to blend in.” 

As he stares down at you, you get lost in his eyes. They’re an exquisite, light blue, pulling you in and making you forget about the situation around you. Erasing those thoughts from your mind, you focus on the plan. “I say we find where their weapons are placed. Steal some and then find a ship to escape back to Asgard on.”

“Your plan sounds impossibly easy.” 

“Maybe it will be.” 

“You know just as well as myself that it won’t be. But, I’ll go along with it. It’s not the worst of plans you’ve thought of and I fear we don’t have many other options.” 

“Gee, thanks.” You spin around in his arms so you’re now facing him, chest to chest. Loki’s staring down at you, his eyes blazing. One of his hands moves to your face, grabbing your chin and tilting your face upwards. He licks his lips, his tongue sliding out to swipe across his bottom lip. You watch and you can’t help but wonder what his mouth would feel like against yours. 

He leans down until his face is only inches from yours and you find yourself panting with a neediness you haven’t felt in a long time. Loki’s staring at your lips, ready to claim them for himself-

You remember where you are and pull away quickly, putting some distance between the two of you. “What’re you doing?” 

Loki grins. “Just blending in, darling. You didn’t seem to mind.” 

Trying to steady your rising heart rate, you take a deep breath. “Let’s just go find their weapons.” 

Loki gestures for you to walk in front of him. “After you.”

---

Finding and stealing weapons turned out to be easier than you thought. Loki managed to grab multiple knives, as well as the same giant gun that you did. 

Now, you’re heading towards the ship’s garage, intending to steal the best one you come across. You’re in an elevator, heading up to the top floor. As the doors are about to open, Loki puts his arm out in front of you. “I hear voices on the other side. Follow my lead.” 

You nod your head. The doors open, revealing two guards with guns. In an instant, Loki has them both on the ground, knives stabbed into their chests. 

He turns to look at you and grins. “Told you they’d come in handy.” 

“You just wanted to show off.” 

“For you? Always.” 

You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today and follow Loki towards a large, circular ship. “You think they’d have more guards in this area.” 

Loki walks over to a station pressed against the wall, searching for the ship’s key. “You’d think, but let’s not stick around to find out.” Once he locates the key, he picks it up. “Ah, got it!” 

The elevator opens back up, revealing ten new guards. 

“Uh, Loki?” 

Loki turns just in time to see five guards running full speed at him. He laughs before throwing the gun to the floor, placing the ship key in his pants, and pulling out two knives. “Well, hello. This is going to be fun.” 

Across the room, you’re shooting at the other five guards, backing up as they move forward. You manage to knock three of them to the ground and drop the gun as the other two come running at you, full speed. 

“Y/N!” Loki yells. 

You turn to see him throwing you a knife and you catch it midair. Turning back to the two guards, you smirk. “Unfortunately for you two, I’m rather skilled with knives.” 

“Not as skilled as myself though, just to be clear!” 

You chuckle at Loki’s comment. “That’s what he tells himself to sleep better at night.” 

Right after you say those words, you’re lunging at the guards, slicing your knife into one of their thighs. They hiss out in pain and you use the opportunity to grab them, placing your knife at the base of their neck. The other guard rushes you and you kick out, hitting them square in the stomach before dragging your knife across the captured guard’s neck, causing him to fall to the floor. You fall down and roll over, jumping back onto your feet before the other guard can tackle you. 

Maneuvering around the guard, you swipe your leg out, tripping him up, causing him to fall to the floor. You roll onto the floor behind him and wrap your thighs around his neck, effectively cutting off his air supply. Once he’s knocked out, you get back up, wiping sweat off the top of your eyebrow. Loki is staring at you, an impressed look on his face. You stare back at him, admiring how he looks. He’s leaning against the ship, his hair disheveled with his arms crossed over his chest. The guards he fought are scattered across the floor, each one either dead or knocked out. 

He walks up to you, his tall frame towering over you. “It was rather hot to see you beat up those guards.” His hand reaches down towards your face, his thumb wiping a few spots of blood off your cheek. 

You close your eyes, trying to get a hold of yourself. When you reopen them, Loki is back over towards the ship, looking at you. “Ready, darling?” 

Letting out a shaky breath, you will your legs to follow him onto the ship.

---

A gentle shake to your shoulder wakes you up. Slowly opening your eyes, you come face to face with Loki, who’s looking down at you with a small smile on his face, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You stare at his hand and he pulls it away before clearing his throat. 

“We’re almost back at Asgard.” 

You nod. “How long was I out?” 

“Two hours? I didn’t want to interrupt since it was the first time you looked peaceful in years.” 

Getting up, you glare at him. “Has anyone ever told you how charming you are?” 

“As a matter of fact, yes. Quite a few.” 

“I’m shocked.” You walk to the front of the ship, taking a seat in the pilot’s chair. “This thing on autodrive?” 

Loki moves to take a seat next to you. “No, I figured I’d let it go so we can crash into the nearest crater and die. Put you out of your misery.” 

“Out of my misery?” 

“Yes, since you so clearly hate being around me.” 

Sighing, you turn the chair so you’re facing him. “Who said I hated you?”

Loki mimics you. “Nobody. I can just tell.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Well, maybe a little. But, not for the reason he thought.

He raises an eyebrow. “No?” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “It’s fine if you do. Most individuals I’ve encountered end up hating me.” 

“Well, I’m not like most individuals.” 

He smiles at that. “No, you’re most certainly not.” 

Nervous, you start picking at the arm of the chair. It’s Loki, for crying out loud. The man you can’t stand. So, why is he making you feel this way?

“You almost kissed me in Sakaar. Why?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can even think about the consequences. However, Loki doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he seems excited by the question, his eyes lit up in amusement. 

“I told you. We needed to blend in.” 

“We were already blending in by dancing. No one was even sparing us a second glance.” 

“No? Well, maybe I just wanted to kiss you then. For my own pleasure.” 

His confession spills over you like a bucket of ice water. Your body is both hot and cold, feeling too much at once. 

Your mouth slightly opens as you gasp quietly. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

All of a sudden, Loki’s moves closer to you. Too close. You can feel his breath wash over your face as his hand slowly crawls up your arm. “I may lie quite frequently, but when it comes to you, I only tell the truth.” 

With a surge of confidence, you grip the front of his leathered shirt. “Prove it to me then.” 

He growls before smashing his mouth onto yours. His lips are everything you’ve ever imagined. Soft and unmistakingly yours. 

“You’re mine now, darling. All mine,” he whispers into the kiss. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you onto his lap, your legs dangling off the sides of the chair. “Say it. Say you’re mine.” 

“I’m yours,” you manage to say, moaning when he bites down on your lower lip. 

After one more kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. “You and I, darling, have a lot of catching up to do when we get back.” He runs his fingers over your thigh. “The things I’m going to do to you. You better prepare yourself.” 

Gulping, you shiver at his promise. This ship couldn’t get you to Asgard fast enough. You’ll let him ruin you, from the inside-out. But, only him. Only Loki. You grin at the thought before leaning in to kiss him again.

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie fanfiction: Playing house (Rated T, Humor) Part 1

In which the ones at the end of time place them in a reality where they are a married couple in a suburban town, à la WandaVision.

Master list of my Loki x Sylvie fanfiction can be found here.

---

They didn't know what to expect at the end of time. But they certainly didn't expect to open the door to the citadel and walk into a town.

"This must be an illusion", Loki says in horror as he takes in his new surroundings- two storied houses in every shade of pastel, gardens of roses, lillies and lilacs, wide open roads, pavements lined with freshly cut bushes. "This isn't real."

It looks real enough though. It feels real too.

This is the quintessential suburban town. And they are in a quintessential suburban house.

"They have trapped us in a nightmare", Loki concludes, scanning the new neighborhood again, this time spotting the children playing tennis in the front lawn of the house next door.

Sylvie touches the door frame with the words "Mr. and Mrs. Low-key" etched in the wood in gold. Her fingers trace the letters. It feels so surreal and impossible, yet it feels just as real as she is. "Apparently, we're married in this reality."

"It's not all bad then", he concludes cheekily.

She gives him a death stare. "I don't have time to play house with you right now."

He shrugs. "Until we find a way out, we have to." He checks out the neighborhood one last time for any identifiable imminent threats, before walking back into the house- their house. Holding the door open, he gestures to Sylvie. "Coming?"

She smooths the wrinkles in the sundress she has ended up with, vowing to definitely kill the bastards that did this.

-

The interior of the house does not suit two gods of mischief at all. It's all very... quaint. The sofa is soft and snuggly, the telly hanging from the velvet painted walls is huge, her wardrobe has way too many dresses and skirts, and the knives in the kitchen look like they'd be hard to kill a man with.

"Can you conjure me up something less-" she vaguely gestures at her figure, her lips arched in an angle that spells distaste.

He understands exactly what she means, but does exactly what he wants. With a snap of his fingers, he conjures up an entire rack of clothes for her.

She checks them out one by one, noticing how every jeans, every top is designed a specific way. "These look very tight."

His grin tells her it's intentional.

"You know I can still wipe that smug look off your face in this reality, right?" Her voice expresses how serious she is.

He waves his hands again, and this time, a second rack of clothes materialises, ones which are more functional.

She picks a jeans and oversized top and disappears into the bedroom.

He plops down on the sofa, staring at the Van Gogh hanging from the wall, wondering what their next move should be.

---

The ring of the doorbell breaks them out of their contemplation.

Sylvie grabs every single knife she can find in the kitchen drawers, Loki grabs the mop. Gesturing to each other, they open the door at the count of three, to find a woman standing there with a casserole in her hands.

"Hiya neighbor", she says cheerily. "I heard that you two just moved in. Oh my, that's a lot of knives."

Sylvie holds one up to her throat. "Who sent you?"

The woman grimaces, keeping her eyes fixed at the spot where the knife touches her skin. "My husband. He thought we should welcome our neighbors."

"Liar", Sylvie barks, and increases the pressure on the knife. "Tell me who sent you here before I cut your tongue out and feed it to the cats."

It's at this moment that Loki decides he has to intervene before the situation escalates to unnecessary murder.

"Sylvie, Sylvie, honey", he coos, slowly guiding her away with a gentle touch to her shoulders. "This lovely woman is not the friend I was expecting." He pushes her inside the house, at a safe distance from the lady, before throwing a charming smile in her direction. "I am so sorry. My friend was supposed to visit, I asked my wife to help me play a prank on her. She thought it was you. It's all a giant misunderstanding. Allow me to apologize profusely on behalf of my wife."

Sylvie switches between glaring at the lady and at her "husband".

The lady laughs nervously. "It's quite alright."

Loki extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Loki." He wraps his other arm around Sylvie's waist to pull her close. She tenses, and for a moment he thinks the knife will end up aimed at his throat, but she relaxes a little and gives the neighbor a tiny smile. "And this is my wonderful wife, Sylvie."

The lady shakes his hand. "I'm Agnes. So nice to meet you. Where are you from? Low-key, that sounds Nordic. Are you from Norway?"

"No."

"Yes."

They answer at the same time, then glare at each other, as if their answer was the only acceptable one.

Loki rushes to fix it before Agnes gets suspicious. "What my wife means is, we are from Norway originally, but we moved here from Alabama."

Agnes smiles. "That's a long way from home. Welcome to the neighborhood."

---

Sylvie erupts the moment the neighbor leaves and their doors are closed. "Why the bloody hell are we playing along with this ruse?"

Loki looks at her seriously. "What is the alternative? Murder our way out of here? Slaughter an entire innocent town?"

"No, no, no no." She paces till she is standing directly in front of him, holding her chin up in a posture of challenge. "Why slaughter a town when you can rule it, right?"

He lets out a sigh. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath. He needs all the strength in the world to reason with her. He opens his eyes again and begins. "We don't know how we got here. We don't know what dangers are here. We can't plan an escape like that. We need to gather information and learn everything we can about this place."

"This place is clearly hell", she roars, letting out a scream that shoots a wave of energy out of her hands and shatters the coffee table.

"Perfect", he mutters under his breath, as he picks up the mop.

---

"I'm hungry." She announces after an hour of sitting on the sofa, sulking, while going through the hundred different channels and trying to pick even a single thing worth watching.

"Oh yes, me too." He agrees quickly. "Starving, actually."

She motions at the cell phones on the table that the house came with. "I suppose we should order something like humans do."

"Yes, of course." He nods in agreement. He picks up the phone closest to him, swipes up the screen, and sees the wallpaper of him and Sylvie, on a beach, hand in hand, in matching Hawaiin shirts, with matching grins on their faces. He knows this isn't real, this has never actually happened to them, but it makes him smile anyway. Swiping to the side, he notices the phone comes with too many games. There are also apps that he knows from advertisements. Opening one that promised good food in no time, he stares blankly at the incoherent list that pops up.

She gets impatient after a few minutes. "Well?"

He purses his lips. It's difficult to admit defeat. "I don't actually know how to order."

She blinks in disbelief. "What?"

"I don't know how to order food." He repeats.

"How can you not know how to order food?"

"Well, I've never had to do it myself." He says, irritated, before his tone turns boastful. "I've always had someone do it for me." Food was never even a concern in Asgard. On earth, he has always had some human gladly do it for him. No God would ever bother with the trivial details of food ordering.

"Lucky you." She says dryly, before snatching the phone out of his hands. She pauses to look at the wallpaper as well, at the waves and the sand and the two happy people that represent a life that they can have if they choose to. Before the thought can take its root in her mind, she quickly focuses on ordering.

He stares at her in awe. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I didn't exactly grow up in an Asgardian palace." She rolls her eyes. "I had jobs, Loki. I know how to look after myself."

"I am so glad I'm stuck here with you." He says with a grin. "It makes everything easier."

"It's not that easy. We still need to pay for the food." She points out. Then a horrifying thought occurs to her. "Do we even have money?"

He wants to point out he can just conjure some, but before the words can form in his mouth, she rushes to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. He follows, and opens the refrigerator, staring at the inside of the freezer.

"People don't keep cash in the freezer, Loki."

"I knew that." He lies.

She switches to the bedroom, and he follows her there as well. She looks through the dresser drawer, the wardrobe, and searches under the pillow. He looks under the bed.

"Look at us. Searching for money to buy food with. What a shame." He muses out loud. "Mortals used to offer food to Gods."

"Food and virgins." She spits the words out angrily. "I hate these archaic ways."

"Oh, me too, me too." He pretends to agree. He likes being worshipped. He likes the food and the offerings. The virgins? Well, he took virgins in a very different, very alive way, and they were all very willing.

"I don't think we have money in this house." She announces, sitting down on the bed with a huff. "Is this his masterplan? Make us starve to death?"

"Allow me." He snaps his fingers, and wads of cash appears in her hands. This is what he was going to do before Sylvie started searching and he decided it's best to first find out what useful items they have in this house.

"That's handy", she notes. "I suppose it'll be easy for you to do chores around the house."

"I don't do chores." He declares.

She glares at him.

"I don't know how to do chores." He clarifies.

Her glare never loses its edge. "Well you better figure it out soon then, before I cut your fingers off."

---

They eat in complete silence, adjusting to this new reality they have found themselves in. Loki tries to make conversation, tries to tell her a story of banquets in Asgard, but she stares absent-mindedly into the distance, and he takes the hint.

Night arrives quickly.

"I'm exhausted. We should sleep." Sylvie admits. She gets up, ready to change into something more comfortable for the night.

He gets up too, and heads in the direction of the other bedroom. Of course, all he wants to do is snuggle up close to her. He can think of a hundred excuses to talk her into it too. But he holds back. "Well, I wish you a very merry slumber."

She doesn't want to focus on why she does it, but she calls out to him. "We should stick together. Just in case the enemy decides to attack while we're asleep."

He stops in his tracks, smiling like a fool. "I agree. Clever plan."

Ten minutes later, they are both awkwardly lying side by side in bed.

Sylvie stares at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stickers that are shining. "Is that what people's ceilings look like?"

"Mostly children's."

"The constellations..." She notices. "They're slightly different."

"Yes." He smiles. "This is the view from Midgard, not Asgard."

"Oh."

It's quiet for a while. Loki wonders if she fell asleep. Then he hears her whisper. "I hate this."

"Why are you suddenly acting like this?" He finally asks. "You have been patient your whole life, planning everything for years. You always have a plan, and a good one. Now you're suddenly in a rush to get out of here. Why?"

She doesn't answer. She doesn't even open her eyes. With her focus on the darkness behind her eyelids, it is easy to forget that this is the most peaceful evening she has ever had, that this is the life she always wanted, the life she has been fighting for.

He studies her features, memorizing the way she looks when she tries to fall asleep. Tentatively, he touches her hand. Her fingertips twitch involuntarily, before she responds by taking his hand. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get out of here, I promise you."

---

(To be continued)

[silver-tongued-bby]

You're Mine, Chapter 6

You’re the CEO of a groundbreaking drug company in Sweden with a work/life balance that’s more work than anything else. That is before you meet Loki, who turns your world on its head in the best of ways.

Set during the first Avengers movie. This work contains explicit content and BDSM.

Pairing: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, BDSM, Smut, Dirty talk

Word Count: 3,372

You awoke to beams of sunlight streaming through the window. Turning to your side you found Loki’s long form stretched out beside you, lounging lazily with a book. He set it down to smile at you. “Good morning, älskling.”

You shivered at the timbre of his voice, smiling back at him. “‘Morning,” you stared down at the book resting on his thigh, an eyebrow raised. “The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” You read the title while trying, but failing to hold back a laugh.

“What?” He frowned, looking down at you with the slightest trace of a smile playing at his lips. “He’s got a lot of it right.”

Your eyes widened and you gripped his arm. “Is it the part about the dolphins?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he smiled down at you. “Definitely the dolphins.”

“How long have you been up? Wait do you even need sleep?” You furrowed your brow, settling your body closer to his. You brought your fingertips up to draw small circles over his bare chest.

“It’s not a necessity. I can go long periods without sleeping. Lately I’ve found myself reading in the evenings more than anything else,” he brought his hand over to lightly trace your arm with his fingers.

You hummed lightly at the sensation, your eyes closing briefly.

“We should go get some breakfast, älskling.” You opened your eyes to find his tender gaze studying you. “I have a few things in mind for today. You’ll need your strength,” his voice turned sinful as he continued to stroke your skin. It all sent a tremble through you, your thighs clenching.

His eyes traced over your features, a light smile at his lips. The effect he had on you was growing and the little smirk he looked down at you with told you he enjoyed every second of it.

“Breakfast,” he reminded you, sighing as he got up from the bed.

“Right,” you said as you sat up, “breakfast.”

He brought you to a small cafe nearby, with a picturesque view of the water. The conversation between the two of you flowed easily. Considering he was a thousand-year old god he had a lot to say about the current state of global politics.

“I should probably stop by my house this morning- would you like to come?” You asked, toying with the handle of your coffee mug between your fingers.

“Of course,” he nodded, his eyebrow raised. “What I have planned doesn’t require a specific location, though we may appreciate some privacy.” The velvet in his voice returned and you swallowed.

Settling up at the cafe he walked you to the underground garage of his building, back to the lot with the gleaming vehicles.

“Which one, älskling?” He asked, motioning to the cars in front of him, parked beside the Mercedes he brought to dinner last night.

“Oh,” you took a step back to look at the four cars he motioned to. “Are these all yours?” You asked, turning to him.

He nodded, hands behind his back as he watched you admire each vehicle.

“I think we’ve got to go with the jag,” you said, pointing to the deep green Jaguar in front of you.

“Excellent choice,” he mused then helped you slide in to the passenger side.

You jumped when he materialised in the driver’s seat, “Jesus Christ!”

He chuckled, “wrong god, älskling.” Turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, I’ve been holding back my powers around you though I’d like to stop that now.”

Your heart raced as you remembered what you’d thought you saw last night on the drive home. “What else can you do with them- with your powers?”

He brought his hand up under your chin, looking you evenly in the eyes. “Be a good girl and you’ll find out.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “yes, Sir.”

He gave you a chaste kiss before turning the car on and pulling out of the lot. The drive passed quickly, it was rare to see a large crowd on the roads on a Sunday.

Loki pulled the car up to your empty house and parked it out front. He helped you up the icy steps to the front door, unlocking it the two of you stepped inside.

“Your home is lovely,” he said as you removed your coats and slipped them in the closet.

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m really happy with it. My work can really take its toll on me, but I’ve always found peace here.” You led him through the warm wooden corridors, giving him a quick tour of everything as you went. He complimented your design decisions as well as some of the art you’d purchased over the years.

It was rare for you to have someone over who didn’t work for you in some capacity but you enjoyed showing him around, letting him in on the parts of your life rarely seen by others.

You were happy though you had to acknowledge the small part of you that worried about the day he’d need to return to his former life, leaving you behind. You chastised yourself for thinking that, it was best to enjoy your time with him while you had it.

You hadn’t realised that you’d stopped in the kitchen as you mulled over your thoughts, growing quiet as you contemplated things.

“Älskling,” Loki had turned away from the large window overlooking the frosty water, snapping you out of your thoughts. He came to you, gently holding your face as he looked in your eyes. “Where did you go just then?” He spoke tenderly, his eyes searching yours.

“I-“ you felt your cheeks grow hot. “It’s silly,” you looked down and bit your lip. You took a deep breath and looked back into his eyes, “you’re the first person I’ve really let in since I’ve been here- not just to my home but to my life. I’m so happy to have met you. I’m just trying not to get my expectations out of line with the reality of our situation.”

His brow furrowed. “And what’s that?”

“You’re an alien, a thousand year old god,” you laughed. “I can’t expect you to stay here on Earth with me. You have a family on Asgard, and a life you’ll want to return to. I’m worried the more I let you in the harder it’ll be for me to let you go when the time comes.” You smiled pitifully, turning your head away.

“Oh älskling,” he said, his head tilting as his eyes held a sorry expression. He shook his head after a moment. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I have no reason to, I’m happy here. And my family-“ he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “My family thinks I’m dead.”

“What?” You frowned, quickly running through what he told you last night mentally. He mentioned a strained relationship, but not that he’d faked his own death.

He let go of you, turning to face the window once more. “I tried to follow the right path to make my father- my family proud. But it all got turned around when I discovered my true nature.” He laughed bitterly. “I quickly learnt that no matter what I did I’d always be the outsider. My father would never accept me as he did my brother. He’d never let me rule,” he frowned. “That was difficult for me to face,” he took a deep breath. “So, I let myself fall off the Bifrost and into open space. I ended up passing through Yggdrasil- what you’d call a wormhole.”

There was silence as you digested his words, your heart in your throat. You stepped to him, gently taking a hold of his arm. “Oh Loki,” you looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled, his eyes wet. “I couldn’t stand it-“ he turned his head, his expression pained. “I figured it’d be easier if I were out of the picture.”

You brought your hand up to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, your heart heavy.

Taking another deep breath he continued. “I was picked up by a ravager ship,” seeing your expression he explained further, “think space pirates. I made a deal with them to deliver me here- to Midgard. I’ve been here ever since.”

“And how long has that been?” You asked gently.

“A year or so,” he shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone that before.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you brought your hands up around his neck and gave him a hug. “That’s a lot to go through, let alone survive.”

“I wouldn’t do it again given the chance,” he pulled away from you to look in your eyes. “But being away from my family, from Asgard has been good for me. I’d like to stay here,” he gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “I’d like to explore this more- what’s between us.”

You smiled, feeling most of your prior apprehension melt away and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. “Me too,” you breathed against his lips. His arms snaked around your waist to bring you closer as he pulled you in for a deeper kiss.

Everything about him made you tremble- his scent, his firm body against yours, the way his hands strongly gripped your waist, the way he kissed you- be it gentle, hard or in-between. You found yourself gasping into his mouth, your core growing wet as he wrapped himself around you, overwhelming you in every sense of the word.

He moved from your lips momentarily, his breath heavy with your own. “Bedroom?”

You nodded and pulled away with a shaky breath in, turning to lead him down the hall. The lights came on, revealing the simplistic design of your bedroom. You turned to him, surprised to find him close behind you. He came closer, his lips almost against yours as he stared into your eyes. He brought his hand to your hip to guide you backwards towards your bed, his gaze turning predatory.

Your calves hit the end of your bed and he brought his hands up to gently hold either side of your face. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he captured your lips with his once more.

After a moment he pulled away and gave you a smile, your clothes and his disappearing with a flash of green. “Much better,” he kissed your shoulder, gently sucking on the skin.

He gripped your waist and turned the two of you before pulling you down on top of him so you were straddling him on the bed. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex. You looked down to see his length between the two of you, already painfully hard. Bringing your eyes back up to him you dipped to lightly graze his lips with your own as you repositioned yourself to be flush against him.

You felt his hard length under your wet heat, and as you nipped at his lower lip you began to move against him. He felt so fucking good- sliding across your folds with ease with help from your excitement.

You moaned, everything about him driving you so close to the edge already. He was firmly gripping your ass, guiding you along his cock.

“That’s it, älskling. Take what you need from me,” you whimpered at the sound of his voice, the timbre of it sending heat throughout you.

He looked up at you with dark eyes as he bent to kiss your nipple, pulling the sensitive flesh into his mouth. You moaned, throwing your head back to further push yourself against him. He dragged his teeth lightly across the sensitive bud and you looked down at him, breathing heavily while you continued to move against him.

“Please,” you breathed, looking back down as your fingers slipped through his hair. You were so close, so close to letting go but you couldn’t let yourself. You needed him to say that you could cum.

“Please what, little one?” His expression was passive as he looked up at you, an eyebrow raised.

“Please- please Sir may I cum?” You asked, your heart racing. You’d tried to slow your movements against him but he’d kept the pace using his grip on you. Every muscle in your body was clenched as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.

“My good girl,” he smiled. “I’m so proud of you, holding on for me. You may cum älskling. Cum now.” He commanded, his teeth gritting together. You came with a cry, your hips frozen in place against his as you twitched on top of him. You relished in the feel of his hot length against you, now coated in your release. He kept his eyes on you as he kissed the skin between your breasts, holding you tight as you came back to yourself.

“As much as I love this view,” he said, gripping your waist before he rolled the two of you over. “That’s better,” he grinned down at you.

Holding himself over you he gently brushed the errant strands of hair from your face. His eyes slipped from yours to trace over your skin and your heart raced, your breath heavy. “My lovely little thing,” he brought his gaze back to yours before bringing his lips to your ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. He gently licked the shell of your ear then captured your lobe between his teeth, the sensation causing you to cry out sharply. He chuckled darkly against the skin of your neck, “oh älskling. I love finding new ways to make you scream.” He sucked the skin behind your ear, his words leaving you dizzy with lust.

He brought himself back up to face you, looking as if he could devour you on the spot. You bit your lip and raised your hips against him, whining as you felt his length gently brush through your folds. He grabbed your face, his long fingers firmly gripping your jaw as his hips came down on yours to hold you in place.

“You needy little thing. What happened to my good girl, hm?” He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he waited for an answer.

“I- I’m sorry Sir.” You stuttered, trying not to move as you felt his length press against you. “It’s just-“ you cut yourself off when you saw the warning look in his eyes.

“No excuses älskling. You take what I give you. I’ll fuck this sweet little cunt,” he moved his hand from your jaw to cup your heat, “when I decide you deserve my cock.”

You felt yourself tremble and grow even more wet with his words, and from his smug expression you could tell he felt it too.

“Is that clear, älskling?” He enunciated each word but all you could focus on was the feel of his hand over your heat, so close to where you needed it.

You nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Say it.” He commanded, his jaw strong as he looked down at you.

“I take what you give me, Sir.” You obeyed, your voice small though your heart raced.

“Good girl.” He nodded, then moved his hand from your heat, forcing you to suppress a whimper at the loss of contact. “Now,” he wore a sinful expression, “do you want me to fuck you?”

You eagerly nodded, “yes please, Sir.”

“Prove it. Beg me. Beg me to fuck you,” his voice was deep as he dared you with his eyes.

“Please fuck me, Sir. Please- I need you to fuck me. I’m yours Sir, please.” You rushed out, desperate for him to fill you, to touch you, to keep speaking to you in that raspy tone.

“Good girl,” he brought his hand to his cock and guided it through your folds, gathering wetness and forcing a whimper from your lips. Then he slowly entered you, bit by bit, taking his time as you willed yourself to remain still.

Once he was fully seated inside you he began to thrust, slowly at first, but building to a steady rhythm. Each thrust met a deep, sensitive spot within you that hurt in the most delicious way. Your muscles clenched each time he hit it, and you’d lost your breath to short uneven spurts of air as your pleasure built.

“Oh- oh fuck, please-“ you said, unsure of what you wanted from him other than for his unrelenting thrusts.

He brought his fingers to your mouth and you eagerly sucked them, running your tongue along the pads of his finger tips. His lips curved upwards and he withdrew them, sliding them over your nipple before pinching it between his dampened digits. Your back arched at the sharp pain, your body alight with pleasure- you were close to your finish.

“Sir- I’m close, I’m close,” you said between quick puffs of air.

“I know, älskling. I can feel it. Your tight little cunt is gripping me firmer and firmer,” he let out a breath. “Gods.”

“Please, Sir- please may I cum?” You begged, your fingertips gripping the muscles of his arms as you held on for dear life.

He nodded, “yes. My good girl, you may cum. Cum for me- I want to feel you come undone on my cock.” He rasped out and you came, the pleasure overtaking your every sense. You writhed under him as you rode out your high, and after a few thrusts you felt him twitch inside of you. He moaned as he came, his eyes still locked with yours as you both came back to yourselves.

He smoothed your hair back and gently kissed you before he pulled out, his cum trickling down your thigh. Stepping back, his eyes traced over your spent body, a smile at his lips. “Beautiful.” He said before materialising a damp cloth, handing it to you so you could clean yourself.

You smiled back at him before sitting up on the bed. “Will you come with me? I want to show you my favourite part of this house,” you said, standing up and walking over to your closet to grab a robe. He materialised himself a dark silk robe to match your own before you led him back out in the hall. You pressed on the wood panelling of the hallway, opening the concealed doorway, leading to a series of steps alit with soft light.

You looked back at him- he hesitated for a moment, curious.

You threw him a wink before turning to go down the steps, leading to the bath you’d had custom built. The room was carved out into the rock that your home was built on, smooth but cool under your feet. There was a massive tub in the middle of the room, surrounded by windows that overlooked the idyllic lake. To the side against the stone there was a steam shower as well as a sauna. This was your happy place- few had seen it, only a few close friends who came to visit every now and then.

He stepped into the room, running his fingers along the large tub of hand-carved wood before he turned around, a smile on his face as he took in the room. He chuckled, “impressive.”

“I know,” you grinned as you tapped the controls for the water to fill in the bath. You stepped over to the concealed bar to fetch a bottle of red and some cold water. Setting the bottles on the side table to the tub you retrieved some glasses and poured the wine, offering him a glass as he stepped over to you. He pulled you against him and the two of you looked over the setting sun of the lake.

The tub controls beeped shortly thereafter and you both slipped your robes off before settling into the water, your back settled into his side. He distractedly played with a strand of your hair, twisting it between his fingers. Running over the whirlwind events of your weekend you had a hard time believing this all happened in such a short time.

You sighed contentedly as you rested back against him, your eyes slipping closed.

End Note: This chapter went a little softer than I'd anticipated- next week's will explore a bit more bd/sm themes, I promise! If you'd like more Loki, check out my latest fic: Summer Wine. I'll be posting Chapter 7 of You're Mine next Sunday as well as a new Loki one-shot! Thank you as always for reading.

Taglist (open!):

@fuck-is-going-on

[beccarooni]

The End - Chapter 1

(Infinity war AU: Loki lives and leaves the Statesman with Bruce Banner. Multi chapter fic, enjoy the ride babes xo)

taglist: @woahthisguy (ask to be added if u like!)

When Loki woke, part of him still thought that he was on the Statesman. Still aboard that cursed vessel, with smoke filling his lungs and the maddening glare of the stones shining before his eyes. Rays of sunlight filtered into his vision, and he felt broken wood under his fingertips - but part of him still expected to see Thanos’s golden boot step into his vision. Still expected to see his brother, bloodied and bruised, a lifeless body tossed beside him. Expected to hear his last pained scream as the power stone touched his head, to smell the ozone building in the air and to see the final flash of lightning that would signal his brother’s journey into Valhalla.

What he heard was the sound of birds.

Muffled by walls, but there. Birds, nature, the faint sounds of traffic and conversation bleeding in through the ringing in his hears. He opened his eyes, grunting slightly as he felt splintered beams digging into his side from where he fell. A neat hole in the ceiling signalled his entry; he stared up at the familiar sun and sky, and let his eyes fall shut again with a groan.

Midgard.

But not just anywhere in Midgard. He inhaled the musty air, coughing out the dust from his throat. Magic - he could sense it everywhere. It clung to every surface of this place, seeping into the floorboards with a familiar sense of order and learning. Not just magic - sorcery.

Loki sat up. Pulled himself out of the hole he’d created in the floor, and almost buckled under the weight of the familiarity of this place. The Sorcerer’s Home. Where he’d been suspended in animation for over half an hour, only to be dropped onto the marbled floor and told that they were going to see Odin. He remembered Thor’s voice, then. That was one of the last times he’d sounded like himself. Before the Norns had twisted the last few strands of their monstrous tapestry, and brought their world crashing down around them. Around Thor, to put it more aptly. Loki had shed no tears for Odin. Hadn’t felt the same coiled rage in the pit of his stomach as when Frigga had died. But it had signalled the beginning of the End, for them. The beginning of Ragnarok. The twisted path that had dragged them from Midgard to Sakaar to Asgard and finally to a barely held together spaceship crawling through the stars.

And then to oblivion.

Loki flexed his fingers, stepping onto the cold marble floors, and allowed himself a moment of respite. This wasn’t good. Out of the frying pan, and into the proverbial fire. Midgard may have meant refuge for Thor, but not for him.

Voices sounded from outside the doors. Loki stepped quickly, pressing himself against the wall - not that it would do any good. The Sorcerer had sensed them from oceans away, last time. He could pluck him out of thin air if he so chose, and deposit him at his feet. But it felt right, at least. Sensible. Slinking his way in and out of the shadows was what he was used to, and he needed some familiarity right now. Stability in any form; even if it was just a repeated motion from a lifetime that was now obsolete.

“The Avengers broke up. We’re toast.” Smooth, honeyed tones from beyond the door; a voice that could have been roughed with anger, but the edges smoothed down into something more palatable. Stark.

“What do you mean, broke up? Like a band? Like the Beatles?” Another voice sounded off - this one inquisitive, confused, but still with a certain fog - like someone coming out of a long sleep, trying to recount a dream that was fading rapidly. Banner, then.

Loki leaned back against the wall, silently cursing his luck. Of all people he encountered, it had to be Stark. Someone who Loki’s last fond memory of was tossing him out of a window - and even that was marred with the faint blue tint of the mind stone’s power. He couldn’t even enjoy throwing Stark out of that window. Couldn’t even take credit for it, really.

He shifted his fingers again, feeling the familiar steel of his dagger morph into life in his hands. That brought a little comfort, at least. Even if he knew in his heart he wasn’t in much shape to fight off the Avengers right now.

He had Banner to vouch for him - maybe. But Banner didn’t have the same trust in him that Thor had. And Thor wasn’t here to echo that sentiment to his allies, because Thor was dea-

“Thor’s gone.” Banner’s voice resounded off the walls again, subdued and uncertain.

Loki didn’t know why that word suddenly made him so angry.

Gone implied things. It implied uncertainty; that they didn’t know where Thor was, or what had happened to him. Gone implied that Thor could come back. Gone implied hope.

It wasn’t Banner’s fault. He didn’t know any better, didn’t know the full extent of what Thanos could do.

Loki did.

And maybe that’s what drove him out of the shadows, moving just beyond the doorway to stand in the light.

“Thor isn’t gone. He’s dead.” Loki almost winced at his own voice - rough and jagged and far from the silver tongued smoothness he was used to.

But the look on Stark’s face almost made up for it. Alarm creeping into the eyes beneath the sunglasses, a memory of when Loki had last seemed glorious. Unstoppable. A raging inferno fanned by the mind stone, laying waste to Midgard’s streets with an army of monsters at his side. Memories of grand speeches and golden horns. Stark’s hands twitched, grabbing onto a small cord at the collar of his shirt that would probably unfold into some trinket or other, meant to blast him across the room with a quippy one liner to follow it.

Banner’s eyes widened for a moment, but softened just as fast, and he took a few steps forward. Not all the way - he was still too smart to move all the way - but enough. Enough for a placating gesture, at least.

“We don’t know that, Loki. He could’ve escaped, he could’ve-”

“Correction - you don’t know that. I do. Thanos wouldn’t leave someone like him alive.” Loki shook his head, a hollow laugh forcing its way out of his lips. “He was too much of a threat.”

“The Tesseract?” The voice of the sorcerer from his side caused Loki to turn, meeting Strange’s scrutinizing gaze with what he hoped was a mask of steel.

“Thanos has it. And the power stone.”

“Then he’ll be coming for the rest.” One gloved hand drifted idly to the necklace around Strange’s neck, his face setting in grim resignation.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something? Why are we all standing here talking to this guy? Last time I checked, he was working with Thanos, and was very much in favour of - I don’t know, murdering us all?”

Stark finally jarred himself out of whatever train of thought he’d been following, moving forward to grab Banner by the arm - like a mother, reaching out to snatch her children from sticking their hand into a campfire.

“Tony, it’s fine. Well, it’s not fine. But Loki’s with us on this one.” Banner shrugged his shoulders, batting at Stark’s hand with a twinge of embarrassment.

Stark scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

“So I’m just supposed to trust him because, what? It’s a ‘long story’?”

“Oh, God no. But he is on our side.” Bruce frowned, gesturing at Loki listlessly. “Look, do you think he’d look like that if he was working with Thanos?”

Loki shot him a glare, but tilted his dagger upwards to try and catch a blurred glimpse at his reflection. Even in the unclear mirror, he couldn’t deny that Banner was right. Soot smudged along his cheeks, rimming the glaring red cuts on his face with black. Dark circles stamped under his eyes, there was blood beneath his fingernails. He looked unhinged.

A stretch of the neck, a flex of the fingers, a flash of gold, and he was whole again. The grime still clung to his skin, but it was hidden now, at least. He tilted his chin up, spreading his hands out wide.

“I am not here to pick a fight with you, Stark. Nor any of Midgard. But Thanos must be stopped, and you’re going to need more than the Avengers to do it. You can kill me, or imprison me, but buried beneath that colossal ego of yours, you know you need me.”

Stark’s jaw clenched, and for a few moments Loki expected the flash of a cannon and the impact of a missile hitting his chest. What he got instead was a sigh, tight and constrained, and a small nod in Banner’s direction.

“Fine. But if this blows up in my face, you owe me like...a million cups of coffee.”

Banner shrugged, and the three Midgardian’s continued their discussion.

It wasn’t a discussion Loki wanted to participate in - and by their hunched shoulders and wary looks, it wasn’t one he was privy to, either. Which was just fine by him. He tapped his fingers against his elbows, and wandered about the room.

So many artefacts that he hadn’t paid attention to last time. This room hummed with magic, every table, every chair, every floorboard was steeped in it; like fragranced smoke clinging to a curtain.

He overheard some of the conversation, of course. Talks of a great battle between their Captain America and the Iron Man; a rift between the team that had grown into a chasm - one that strangely he hoped would be mended. Not for their sake, of course; it would just be easier to fight Thanos if they all united as one, and fought together rather than apart, and -

Norns, he was starting to sound like Thor. He shut his eyes, shrugging his shoulders to try and rid himself of the sentiment. It was funny what a few moments of desperation could do to you. The death of his mother, and he worked with Thor again. The death of his father, and he saved a world he swore to hate. The death of his brother, and now he was talking of comradery with the Avengers.

Banner kept casting looks at him from across the room. Worried looks, but not for his own safety - at least, not entirely. Banner looked worried for him, and for some reason that filled him with vitriol, anger that was acidic and spiteful.

Banner thought he was exaggerating. He still saw Thor as a golden hero, unbreakable and untouchable. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know that it was better for Thor to be dead. That when Loki said that Thor’s fate was sealed, it was not out of spite or doubt of Thor’s strength; it was out of hope. Loki would rather kill Thor himself than have him die at the hands of Thanos.

At least Loki’s steel would have been kinder. The flash of silver and the seconds it took for the blood to leave the body would be a mercy, compared to the dazzling pain of the gauntlet. Seconds still felt like seconds, when you were stabbed. The infinity stones stretched those seconds into hours. Loki knew from experience.

Before, he might have relished at the thought of causing Thor pain. Wherever this sentiment had come from, these feelings of care and brotherhood, he wanted them gone. They’d settled on his skin with the dust from Asgard, baked into the clay of his being in the fires of a supernova, watched from a spaceship window. If he had nothing from the beginning, he would’ve been fine. If Thor had died at his hand, hating him, he would’ve been fine.

Thor had died believing in him. And that was so much worse.

Screams erupted from outside, and all four of them glanced towards the doorways.

“God, already? It’s been what, five minutes since you two crash through the window and now we’ve got more party guests?” Stark rubbed at his forehead, probably nursing an oncoming migraine.

“I guess they move fast. Let’s go.” Strange and Stark headed towards the doorway of the sanctum, but Banner lingered behind.

The scientist paused at Loki’s side, looking at him with a gaze that was suddenly inscrutable. No easily provoked anger that Loki could stoke into a wildfire to keep the sadness at bay. No mistrust. Just a hint of sadness, and a twinge of concern in his voice when he asked:

“Are you alright?”

Loki’s hand lifted to his face, feeling the wetness of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He stared at his fingers, before wiping them against the material of his jacket.

No time for this. Not right now.

“I’m fine.” Loki gritted his teeth, flipping his dagger in his hand.

Loki didn’t take much stock in legacy. He’d had his fair share of prophecies and purposes, and none of them had quite worked out the way he’d wanted - or expected. Fates could be changed with the flip of a dice - his birthright had been to die one moment, inherit the throne the next. He was destined to be the doom of Midgard and the saviour of Asgard and somewhere along these severed threads of prophecy he’d realised that it was all just chaos. He’d rather be an agent of that, than a warrior honouring the stories of someone else.

Thor’s story felt different, though. If he was going to honour anything in his life, maybe his brother could be the exception. Maybe he could help protect this fragile blue planet from this destruction; just this once.

Loki gripped the dagger harder, until his knuckles turned white.

Midgard waited on the other side of that door. A place that he had chosen to conquer, and Thor had chosen to care for.

If it didn’t die today, he knew it’d be a matter of time before it died from something else. But he wouldn’t let it be lost today.

Thor believed in him. He’d died believing in him.

Honour that, then. Honour his stubbornness, if nothing else. What better legacy was there to leave Thor with, than postponing the dying light of a planet just because?

Chaos and stubbornness. What better combination was there than that?

[stanknotstark]

Astral Pt. 13 (Loki x Reader)

I’m introducing ANOTHER character :D Morgan is very interesting and her powers are like Kang’s I’m very curious as to who would win in a fight tbh i wish i could’ve written an action scene because she can mind control and OH the drama that I could have played with! You guys are lucky cuz i had something worse written >:D

You and Loki are eating breakfast together in silence. When you finish your plate Loki tells you to grab a book from his quarters, while he finishes, so he can help you research Asgard. Then meet him in the common area since no one is there right now. 

Loki likes to teach you and watch your curiosity flare as you read up on Asgard, its customs, how healers work, how royalty works, instead of telling you. It’s the least he can do since you’ll never actually see Asgard in person. He’s a fantastic storyteller but you know he has a weakness, that weakness being that when you truly concentrate on something sometimes you stick your tongue out a bit and narrow your eyes. Other times you look at the book with guileless fascination. Plus, Loki knows there’s more satisfaction from learning on your own. He’s always there to answer your questions and debate with you though.

You walk back into the common area after grabbing the book, Loki looks at you, then a cloud of dark green appears between you both. Before you can react accordingly feminine arms are yanking you into the cloud of magic and you’re in someone’s arms definitely not at the tower anymore. You can only imagine what Loki is thinking. The last thing he probably saw was the book fall when you dropped it. Now he’s probably thinking the worst is going to happen, that you’re going to die, and honestly you don’t know what’s going on. For all you know you might actually be about to die. 

You try to wave off the nausea and dizziness following the teleportation you endured and assess your surroundings but someone is roughly pulling you somewhere. Just as you get your wits back there is a tight rope constricting your hands behind your back and around your ankles. You’re shoved into a rocky wall, twisting, back first causing you to let out a breathless grunt and slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Looking up you see a beautiful woman. She stands tall, her chin out in confidence. Her pale, petite face is framed by pitch black hair, the long tendrils held in braids resting on her chest and trailing to her hips they’re so long. She wears a green and black corset that flows into thigh armor that is engraved. No not engraved, made of actual scales, you shiver at the thought of what could have scales that big, nothing from Earth that’s sure. To end her amazing outfit, her green with black lace boots are thigh highs. You can faintly smell leather and something sweet you’ve never smelled before. You’re pretty sure this woman could be a really good dominatrix if she wanted to.

“That was much easier than expected. If the Avengers are Earth’s best defenders I’m disappointed, to say the least.” The woman tells you looking at her nails in boredom. You pick out her British accent.

You realize you’re not in immediate danger and say, “While I don’t mind getting kidnapped by beautiful women I usually like to know their names first, maybe take me on a date before you bring me back to your place.”

The woman chuckles. “My name is Morgan Le Fay of Britain, the world’s strongest sorceress, Morgana. That is until you came along.”

You frown. “That’s a mouthful.” 

Morgana shakes her head with a small smile. “Cute.”

“Look I’m not that powerful, I think you have the wrong person, most of the magic I use I can’t use for long because it gives me migraines.” You say while shifting around to get more comfortable. 

You finally take in your surroundings. All you can assess is that you’re in a cave, no telling how far from New York City, home. You know Loki could track you down if you could astral project but you don’t trust Morgana enough to take your eyes off of her. Maybe Tony is tracking your cell phone which you feel sitting in your back pocket. 

“Such a shame you’ll never discover your true potential. I’m here to kill you, child, but I had to get a taste of what runs through your blood before I do.” Morgana says kneeling in front of you. 

Morgana brings a hand to your head and when she touches you she gasps and closes her eyes. You simply watch from under her hand as she shivers. When she pulls her hand away her eyes are bright with curiosity but far away in thought. 

“Why would your mother want to kill someone so powerful, I would think having you on her side would be more preferable.” Morgana says under her breath. You only hear her because she’s so close to you. 

“My mother sent you?” You say trying to stall now that you know her intentions. 

Morgana hums. 

“I know my mother doesn’t love me but I never thought she’d send a glorified assassin after me. I’m honored, honestly.” You say your fingers playing with the rope around your wrists seeing if you could escape somehow. “How does my mother know you anyways, she doesn’t have any powers why would she know a sorceress?” 

Morgana frowns at you, “I like your humor in the face of death.” She quips with a hint of annoyance at your nonchalance of the situation, “When a celestial tells me to do something I tend to not question it.” You look at Morgana like she’s crazy then you watch as realization dawns on her face. 

“My child...You truly do not know?” 

You stop fiddling with the rope and look at Morgana with a raised eyebrow. “Know what? And I’m not a child.”

“Your true birth mother, celestial Madonna.” Morgana says ignoring your plea to be respected.

At this you freeze and lose all the breath in your lungs. 

Thor was right, you’re adopted.

“It was prophesied that celestial Madonna would give birth to the most powerful being in the universe. Kang wanted to be father to such child and hunted her down. He impregnated her, held her captive until she birthed you. She fled when she had the chance but couldn’t take you with her.” Morgana explains while standing and pacing the cave’s floor. “Kang, who was being chased by the Avengers, planted you in an alternate universe and time. No one has known where you were until a few years ago when you used magic for the first time.” Morgana finishes, stopping and looking down at you.

She gives you a look of pity as you process everything. It all made sense now. Kang wants you to be his weapon of destruction. Why your parents have always hated you and treated you like shit. 

“My mother wants me dead and sent you to do her dirty work...Meaning she’s alive somewhere?” You ask trying to not panic with the influx of information.

“She’s here on Earth until she knows you’re dead. Said you’re more of a liability than anything. I’m being paid handsomely for your head.” Morgana says. She then brings a hand up and flicks it. Dark green magic flows and through the smokey magic you see a quin jet then see flashes of Loki, Steve, Natasha, Tony, and Thor talking, concerned and frightened looks on their faces but hear nothing. 

“Your friends are near.” Is all Morgana says like it’s an afterthought. She makes the magic disappear and looks at you with determination. “I have a proposition for you, child.”

You’re not really in the position to argue so you nod at her.

“Promise me you’ll hunt down Kang and right before you deliver the last strike on his miserable life you call on me and let me do it. While I love your mother dearly I have a penchant for revenge.”

“Fine.” You say. At this Morgana looks at you, sizing you up, but decides you’re harmless enough and makes the rope around your wrists and ankles disappear. When you stand she magics a gold ring with a square emerald on it and gives it to you. 

“When the time comes throw this on the ground and stomp on it with your foot then stand back, I shall appear where the ring is.”

You nod and slip the ring onto your right ring finger finding that it fits perfectly. 

“Do not use it for anything else, it is a one time use. If you use it for something trivial I will kill you without hesitation, our deal will be void.” Morgana says, she frowns and without asking places a hand on your head again. This time you feel her magic search your mind and gasp when she does something that makes you feel energetic and calm.

When Morgana pulls her hand away she explains, “Your powers were behind a barrier, I simply destroyed it. You should be able to wield magic without headaches now but you’re going to use your full power unless you learn how to tame it. Do not kill yourself or I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

You look at Morgana in disbelief and annoyance because she keeps threatening your life.

 She gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m truly sorry such a fate has fallen on you, child.” And then she’s gone and you’re left in a dark cave. 

You hadn’t even realized Morgana had used magic to light up the space you both inhabited until you’re left standing in pitch black. Without hesitation you light up both fists with fire and start to make your way out of the cave. You plan to contact Loki when you truly know where you are. However, when you reach the entrance you see the quin jet landing in an open field not that far from the cave’s entrance on the side of a mountain. The first person out of the ship is Loki and he is sprinting towards you, Thor not far behind with Steve and Nat pulling the flank. 

When Loki reaches you you open your mouth to tell him you’re ok but he pulls you into his chest hard and squeezes you till you’re breathless. Then he holds you at arms length and looks over your face first, then body.

“Are you hurt, did she use any magic on you?” He asks urgently.

“I’m fine, Loki, we just talked, she’s not a danger to us.” You say with a small smile that you’re sure doesn’t reach your eyes because Loki doesn’t lose the concerned look on his face. He doesn’t push it either though. Thor stays suspiciously silent when he reaches you both. He touches you as if to check that you’re real but drops his hand and claps Loki on the back more for calming him instead of camaraderie.

You look at Steve and Nat with a small wave and embarrassed grimace when Loki, Thor, and you reach them as you all walk towards the quin jet. After you’ve told them multiple times that you’re fine they all relax a bit but not by much. You mostly feel embarrassed you were taken so easily. You didn’t even put up a fight.

You’re sitting in the quin jet quiet other than to answer their questions without going into details because you’re still trying to unravel what you’ve been told. 

“Why did she take you?” Steve asks, standing in front of you, arms crossed, with Nat next to him while Loki sits at your side, holding your hand. You know he has questions because his fingers keep playing with the new ring on your hand and he gives you looks you can’t decipher. Thor is speaking with Tony in the cockpit so you’re free of their questions until later thankfully.

“She wants me to find Kang so she may kill him.” You say.

Thankfully Loki and Thor had told the group of superheroes who Kang was after the incident with the Growing Man. They told them what they knew of the man which honestly wasn’t much. 

At your words you feel Loki stop playing with the ring. He understands its purpose now. He must have used his magic to look over the ring and see if it was a danger to anyone but especially you, sensing it had magic dwelling in it.

“That doesn’t explain why she took you specifically. She could have told all of us. She didn’t have to kidnap you.” Natasha says knowing you enough to know you’re hiding valuable information. 

You frown and look at your feet. “I-”

You go quiet and everyone stays quiet too, you listen to the engine of the quin jet and Thor and Tony bickering in the background. You think about how Loki’s hand fits perfectly in yours and is soft but has rough patches of callouses from his use of daggers. You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes, and smell leather, sweat, and that smell the quin jet emits like a new car. 

When you open your eyes you look up at Steve and Natasha and ask, “How did you find me?” 

Natasha frowns at your very obvious deflection. Steve answers. “Tony tracked your cell phone but it’s thanks to Loki we found you so fast. He used his magic to track your magic or something.” Steve says uncrossing his arms and shrugging while glancing at Loki.

You look at Loki who raises a brow at you. “Our bond.” Is all he says at your inquisitive look. You nod in understanding. 

“Where are we, exactly?” You ask them.

“The border of New York and Pennsylvania.” Steve says. That explains why they were able to reach you so quick. If Morgana teleported you so close that means your stalling is the only reason you’re alive. She planned to make you a quick death.

When Nat opens her mouth to ask you another question you shake your head at her. “I’m exhausted can I take a nap before I tell you everything?” You ask, realizing you’ve got at least 45 minutes of free time since the jet isn’t going full speed.

Nat looks a little apologetic and Steve nods and says, “We’re happy you’re ok.” and then they both make their way to the opposite side of the quin jet. 

You and Loki settle into the quin jet’s seats as comfortably as you can. He stays suspiciously quiet about everything but brings an arm up and around your shoulders and lets you lay your head on his shoulder where it meets his neck. When you’re settled he keeps holding your hand but his free hand around your shoulder comes up to stroke your hair. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep. 

Pt. 12.1/Pt. 13/?

Tage list: @justfangirlthingies​ @emelieh99​ @high-functioning-lokipath​ @loveableasshole​ 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Be Good When I’m Gone

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When Loki starts to go on missions across the galaxy, you and the trickster god do your best to keep your relationship alive. Warnings: fluff with just a touch of angst peppered in A/N: inspired by the song Be Good When I’m Gone by Four Year Strong

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Dating Loki was difficult. The two of you had finally broken down all the barriers and walls he had put up, and for a little while, everything was perfect. Then Thor decided to start taking Loki for off-world missions. You were happy that the brothers had gotten back the trust they used to have. It’s just that sometimes you felt so lonely without Loki. Of course, you had plenty of friends in the Tower, but none of them understood you the way Loki did. You’d first caught the trickster god’s attention when he found you trying to pull a prank on him. Since then, you’d been partners in crime. Or, in this case, mischief.

You were currently perched on the edge of Loki’s bed while he packed the necessities for his next trip with Thor. Every time you had to say goodbye to him was harder than the last. You tried to remember that saying your mother had always told you. The one that goes if you love something, let it go, and if it’s meant to be, it’ll come back to you. Well, Loki did always come back, but you couldn’t shake the fear that one day he just...wouldn’t. Fears aside, the time away from him was agonizing. It was like having half your heart violently ripped from your body and kept away from you, often for weeks at a time. That’s why you were doing your best to distract him from the task at hand in the hopes he wouldn’t leave. Was it selfish? Probably, but you couldn’t help it.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” Loki asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“Do you really have to go?”

Loki sighed in response and placed a kiss to your forehead. He wanted to give you the world and had great difficulty denying you anything, but these missions were important. Not only did they often save lives, but they also helped him repair his relationship with Thor. Still, the thought of staying on Midgard with you was tempting.

“Not if you need me here,” he finally replied.

Now it was your turn to sigh. You would have begged him not to leave if your pride allowed it, yet all you had to do was ask, and he’d stay for you. Your heart desperately wanted to tell him that, yes, you did need him. And you honestly did, just not so desperately that you should be allowed to keep him from living his life. Besides, you wouldn’t want to be the reason he got into a fight with his brother. Seeing him in distress would cause you more pain than having to live without him for a little while.

“No, I’ll be fine,” you reluctantly said. “I’m going to miss you, though. I just wish it didn’t have to be so long before I can see you again.”

Loki captured your frowning lips in a kiss. “I feel the same way,” he said, sincerity burning in his emerald eyes. “Just try to be good when I’m gone, my little prankster.”

You giggled at the nickname and helped him finish packing. Sure, he’d be leaving soon, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy this time with him. Besides, he’d be back before you knew it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jolting up out of bed, you looked around in the pitch black room for the source of the incessant ringing that had abruptly awoken you. It was your phone that you apparently forgot to put on vibrate. You quickly grabbed it and headed into the bathroom of the small hotel room you were sharing with Wanda, your partner for the mission you were currently on. You said a silent prayer it hadn’t woken her up and checked the caller-ID. Seeing that it was your boyfriend calling made your heart beat faster. It had been two weeks since you’d talked to Loki last, and you’d been fraught with worry, unable to banish the thought that he was hurt. Or worse, dead.

“Hello, my darling,” his voice crackled through the phone. “Guess who will be arriving back at the Tower tonight.”

“Oh. That’s great, Loki,” you said, trying not to sound too disappointed. The timing couldn’t have been any worse if you tried. “It’s just that I’m on a mission right now.”

His end was silent for a moment, and you worried he might have hung up or lost whatever weak signal he found. Then, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, he said, “Oh, that is alright. I will see you again when you get back. Certainly this mission can’t last for much longer, right darling?”

You winced, knowing that, at best, you’d be in the field for another two weeks. You didn’t want to disappoint him, though, so you told him you’d be back soon. The yawn that punctuated your sentence let Loki know just how tired you were, and he felt a stab of guilt that he was keeping you up. After all, you needed your rest to perform well on missions, and the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt. You bid each other goodnight and hung up.

Walking back out into the bedroom, you saw Wanda sitting up, rubbing her eyes. Even in a half-asleep stupor, she was able to tell something was bothering you and tried to get you to talk about it. You, however, were emotionally drained and only wanted to sleep. She did give good advice, though, so you resolved to tell her in the morning.

Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Loki and Thor’s ship landed in the hangar. Loki was feeling just as miserable as you were. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone he felt comfortable enough to confide in. Thor tried to get him to talk, but whatever trust there was between the two still felt too fragile to Loki for him to talk about something as precious to him as you were. Besides, Thor’s approach to dating was a lot less graceful than Loki’s, so he was sure whatever advice his brother would offer him would be more annoying than helpful.

It soon became clear to Loki that you wouldn’t be home as soon as you had said you would. When the loneliness became unbearable, he found himself in your room, taking it all in. Sometimes he laid down on your bed, enjoying the way it smelled like you. Your room often looked like it was hit by a hurricane, and while he usually liked for things to be neat and organized, Loki found he didn’t mind all that much. It reminded him of your chaotic energy that he so loved. When you knew he’d be in your room, you always made sure to clean it up, but a part of him wished you’d leave it as it was. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to hide any part of yourself from him.

It was during one of these such musings that you arrived back from your mission and stumbled into your room, only to find your boyfriend sprawled on your bed. Exhausted, you flopped down next to him and curled into his side. He put his arms around you and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“Hello, my little prankster. I’ve missed you.”

Needless to say, you missed him too, but for as much as you loved him, this arrangement was taking its toll. The way you saw it, you had two options: Ask him to stay with you or break up with him, neither of which you could bring yourself to do. You supposed you could have travelled with Loki, but you didn’t think SHIELD would let you off the hook from your missions that easily. So, you’d just have to enjoy whatever fleeting moments with him that you could.

“Me too,” you said after peppering kisses along his jawline. “But we’re together now. I’ll stay right by your side until you have to leave again.”

“Well, about that. I have been doing quite a bit of thinking, and I came to a conclusion that I should have reached a long time ago.”

You pulled away from him and sat up on the bed, your mind immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. We can still be friends though, right?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you gave him a sad smile. You should have known that even if you weren’t willing to break up with him, he wouldn’t want things to continue as they were now. He probably met plenty of other people during his travels, and here you were holding him back. It would get easier with time, you were sure, but still, you didn’t want to drag this breakup out for longer than necessary.

“Darling, listen to me,” Loki said, sitting up beside you and lifting your chin when you tried to avoid his gaze. “There is nowhere I’d rather be, nothing I’d rather do than be by your side. I’m staying here. With you.”

“But the missions. And Thor-”

“Thor,” he interrupted, “will understand. My place is with you.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Overjoyed, you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. It struck you in that moment how silly you’d been to think he wanted to break up. Your love was no fragile thing, and he’d never been anything less than completely devoted to you. And now he was giving up intergalactic travel just to stay with you. It reminded you of what he’d said on the night of your first kiss. He’d told you he didn’t need a kingdom or a title or anything else, so long as he was king of your heart. You hadn’t realized at the time just how serious he’d been.

“Loki,” you breathlessly whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, my little prankster.” He paused for a moment, lost in your eyes. “Now then, if I’m staying, I think we’ve been a bit too good recently. I do believe the Tower is due for a little mischief. What do you say, darling?”

You laughed, happier than you’d been in a long time. “Absolutely,” you said, snuggling next to him again.

“You truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he whispered into the night, after a short, peaceful silence. “I hope you know how much I mean it when I say I love you.”

“I do,” you said before falling asleep in his arms for the first night of many to come.

[justalittlepartofme]

3:00 am.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: One month after Loki broke up with you, he appeared at your door at three in the morning. He explains himself and wants a new opportunity.

Word count: 1154

Warning: Angst.

• • • • • •

I hadn't seen Loki in almost a month. It hadn’t been a good time. It was pouring out when we broke up. 

At first, when he appeared at my door at three in the morning, I wasn't sure of letting him in. I even wasn't sure if I was dreaming or if it was real. During the week, I hadn't had much sleep. It was finally my day to sleep in. Or so I had thought.

However, Loki seemed determined. And real. He swore he had something important to tell me.

Loki sat on the couch, in front of me. Leg crossed and hair tied up. He appeared to be anxious. The god looked everywhere but me.

"So? What are you doing here?", I asked while taking a cup of warm water. It felt hot between my hands.

The silence extended for a few seconds between us. The tension was heating up. Palpable. As if Loki was still organizing what he was about to say. It wasn't common to see him like that. But he didn’t look like himself anyway. There were bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. His clothes weren’t as ironed as always. His general appearance was disheveled.

He breathed deeply, and all the words came out at once.

"I don't need you. I can live without you".

It hit me. It felt like a push in my chest. The pain that I felt during the first days that he was gone appeared once again. As if it hadn't been gone. The cup in my hands shook a little so I had to put it down on the table next to me.

"See, I have had a really long week. I'm not in the mood for arguing. And at this hour! If you came here to hurt me-".

"No, no! That's the thing!", he hurried up. Maybe he hadn't thought about the impact of his words. "I thought I was weak because I had fallen in love with you. That I couldn't live without you. But turns out I could. I can".

The warmth from the heater wasn't enough. My whole body was almost freezing.

"At first I was crushed. Getting away from you was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Although it wasn't impossible".

"I don't know what do you expect me to answer. Did you come all the way here to tell me you are over me? What's wrong with you?", I yelled. Every word he said was getting me out of my nerves. I didn't see the point he was trying to reach.

"I needed time to think".

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that".

Loki closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. His frustration was perceptible. Even though he had always been good with words, he used to struggle with talking about his feelings and emotions.

"I felt exposed to you. Vulnerable. I've never felt like that with someone ever before. I thought it was a weakness someone could take advantage of".

"Who? Which people do you hang up with?"

"The life I have here with you is not the same as the one I had in Asgard", he raised his chin and looked me in the eye. There was no doubt in his look. "I needed to be sure that I wanted to live with you because I wanted to, not because I needed to".

He leaned over to me and took my hand. His skin was soft against mine. He left a kiss on the inside of my wrist, which made me shiver.

"Don't. Just don't... please", I took my handoff. It was easier when there was some distance between us. "I cried a lot, you know? Please, don't make me go through this again."

I wanted to deal with anger. It was best for me if I was mad at him. Sadness and heartbroken? I couldn't deal with those again.

"In my family... We've never been good at talking about feelings. I've never been to. Communication isn't my strength."

"You can't blame your family for everything. You were the one who took that decision. Not me. Not them".

"I'm sorry", he cupped my face with his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't make you feel like this ever again. I promise".

It made have been the first time I heard Loki apologizing. Not once since I've met him. But I didn't think he was used to doing it anyway.

I closed my eyes. The only thing I could think of was his touch. It had felt so long since we were that close. My heart was beating so fast I could hear the blood pumping in my ears. A terrible headache was making its way to me.

I let out a sigh and pushed myself up and off the couch. I needed to sleep. My body was about to flatter. That was the only thing that mattered. However, as soon as I stand, Loki's eyes opened wide. He swallowed.

"I'm tired."

"I'm sorry," he got up really fast, almost losing equilibrium. "I will let you. I just wanted to-"

"What do you mean?". My eyebrows furrowed. I extended my hand to him. "Let's go to bed. Come with me."

His body relaxed. All the tension was gone. When he grabbed my hand, I pulled him closer. I have missed him so much. I could feel his heart running as fast as mine. For some reason, it made me feel better.

Loki shook his head in disbelief. My eyes searched for his, eyebrows up in arches. 

"This all is so new to me. I don't know what to do".

"Just kiss me".

In a second, his lips were on mine. His fingers loosen themselves from mine and slipped around my back, pulling me even closer. My fingers ran up lightly along his neck. There’s urgency in the kiss. I’ve been wondering for the past weeks if I have ever been lucky enough to kiss him one more time. When his grab tightened around me, I wondered if he had thought the same about me during the time we were apart.  

When I pulled away to breathe, a corner of his mouth lifted softly. A shadow of a sad smile. His grab doesn’t lose. He looks like he’s trying his hardest not to move, as if he’s afraid that if he does, I’ll bolt. 

I kissed his cheek. His expression softened a little. “Let’s go back to sleep”, I whispered. 

Side by side, hands intertwined, we went straight to my room. He took off his clothes before sliding into bed with me. He hugged me, my head resting on his chest. His heartbeat got back to normal. My breathing synchronized with his. 

My eyelids felt heavy. Gradually, the fatigue got me. He left a kiss on one side of my head before I fall asleep. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 33

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: The man has no chill.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hover before the door, each step sending a searing ripple through your bottom. You wring your hands as you walk in circles. You're not even sure Mr. Laufeyson is still within but you don't dare open to check.

Time slogs by in your cowardice. You retreat to the sofa and pull your feet up, hugging your knees as you hang your head. You just want him to forgive you and tell you you're good.

You close your eyes as your head begins to thrum. You're mind wanders ahead of you and the list of everything you'll need to pack. You don't even have a bag of your own, what will you put your stuff in? How long will you be gone? You'll have to rescheduled Ronan's next visit, and forward the gate codes to the gardeners...

You slip into a doze as your mind skews with the endless rote of tasks. You slump down until the world goes black, your body sinking into itself. You only stir again as you feel a shift around you.

You grunt and lift your hand as you're lifted from the sofa. You look up at Mr. Laufeyson's chin as he carries you across the room. You wiggle and brace his chest as you float precariously in his arms.

"Come to bed," he coaxes as he takes you into the hall.

You don't move. You don't dare. Fearful that he might suddenly hate you again. He brings you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed. You stay curled up as he shuts the door.

He moves around quietly and approaches with a swish of fabric. He holds a satin nightgown by its straps. You pout up at him as he tilts his head.

"Sleep, we have much to do tomorrow," he girds.

You nod and sit up. You sidle to the edge of the bed and he places the nightie beside you. He unbuttons your blouse before you can. You sit there and let him. He swiftly pulls the sleeves down your arms and disposes your bra in quick succession. He grabs your arms and makes you stand, unzipping your skirt before he shimmies it down to your ankles. You step out of it, then your panties as he tugs them down too.

You raise your arms as he opens the nightgown above you and he sweeps it down your figure. The cool fabric makes you shiver. Still groggy, you teeter on your feet and turn to stare at the bed, waiting for his order.

"A moment," he extends a single finger before striding away.

You stay as you are, folding your arms as you face the wall. The satin makes your bum sting each time you move. You hear him behind you.

"Get on the bed," he orders, "on your stomach."

You obey, so quickly you nearly flop onto your face. You move your head onto the pillow, bending your arms beneath. He nears and pinches the fabric just along the curve of your thigh. He peels it up and reveals your tortured flesh.

"It might hurt," he warns and touches a cool swab to your skin. You hiss between your teeth and swallow down a whimper. He works diligently, almost dotingly at cleaning the lashes, bruises tender at his touch. "We can't have an infection, can we?"

"No, Mr. Laufeyson," you agree as he covers your bottom with the nightie.

"Mmm," he hums and leaves you again.

You wait, unmoving, for his return. When he comes back, he undresses near the closet and pulls on only a pair of twill pajama pants to sleep in. He climbs onto the bed from the other side and grabs your shoulder, rolling you onto your back. Your face contorts in pain as your weight rests on your rear.

"Better," he says. You frown. "You are doing better," he specifies, "pet, if you are to accompany me to my mother's celebration, you must be on your best behaviour."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you utter.

He traces the strap of your nightie with his fingertips and you shudder. As much as you fear his touch, you long for it. It means he's not upset. His hand wanders as he trails over the swell of your chest, your nipples going pert beneath the fabric.

"And you are excited to come?" He asks.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer.

"Truly?" 

"Yes, I... I've never gone anywhere before."

"Not anywhere?" He prompts doubtfully.

"No," you lower your eyes shamefully, "we couldn't afford--"

"Not to worry," he lifts his hand and taps the tip of your nose, "let me worry for the expense. I only need you on your best and to have everything ready. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you gulp, "I promises--"

"Shhhh," he presses his finger to your lips, "it is late."

You nod as he drags his fingertip over your lips and circles your mouth. He fixates on the move, his eyes glittering. He lets out a sigh.

"One more thing," he adds as he frames your chin, "you will avoid my brother."

You swallow and whisper, "yes, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Very good, pet," he bends to kiss your forehead, "rest, you will surely need it."

✨

Exhaustion shrouds the night. You wake little by little, sore and weak as your fatigue weighs you down. You languish in the bed next to Mr. Laufeyson, his breath rising and falling softly in his chest. You’re uncertain what to do.

Should you wait for him to rouse before you set about the day?

You don’t dare wake him up. The very thought sends a flow of terror through you. Whenever you disturbed your father’s sleep, he was never happy. Those days were the worst. Men are safer when they’re asleep.

Restless, you relent to the morning and sit up carefully. You glance over at Mr. Laufeyson. Gone is the anger that creased his forehead and curled his lip. He is peaceful and placid, all tension drained from his features. Conscious, his cheeks are always drawn taut with disapproval and brow set in an imperious line. He looks almost harmless.

As the night tugs against your bottom, you’re reminded that he is not. You turn your back to him and slip off the side of the bed. You peek at him again, slowly tiptoeing to the door. He doesn’t stir.

You ease the door just enough to pass into the hall and scurry onward. You take the stairs quickly and charge into the kitchen. He can’t be mad if you bring him tea. If you’re just doing your job, there’s no reason for disappointment.

You boil the kettle and pluck out cups and the tea pot. You do the task without thinking, arranging the tray just so before lifting it up. You are careful not to rattle the contents as you climb the staircase. 

You shoulder through the bedroom door and find Mr. Laufeyson as you left him. You try not to notice what you didn’t before. The twitching movement over his pelvis, just beneath the blanket. You gulp and set down the tray on foot of the bed. The smell of tea wafts from the spout of the pot.

It’s good he’s asleep, the tea still needs time to steep. You step back and pull on your finger, watching him, waiting. Would he be even more upset if you let him sleep too late? He said today would be busy.

“Pet,” he frightens you as he speaks without moving, “do you plot against me?”

You wince and shake your head, pressing your hands to either side of your neck, “no, Mr. Laufeyson, I wouldn’t–”

“Be calm,” he opens his eyes and his head lolls to face you, “I am being facetious.”

You stare at him and blink.

“Sarcasm,” he declares and bends his arms around his head, stretching his long back with an arch. His arms bulge as the muscles in his chest strain against his skin. “What has you awake so early?”

“Tea,” you bounce on your feet, “I wanted to surprise you–”

“Mmm,” he rumbles and scratches his chest, “you can be so precious.”

You nearly wiggle at the praise. He doesn’t hate you anymore. You’re being good.

“Have you made your list?” He asks, groaning as he sits up.

“My list?” You echo in confusion.

“For our journey,” he leans against the headboard and smooth his hair, though a curl stubborn stands at an angle.

“I will,” you step forward and pour a cup of tea. You bring it around to him and place it on the night table, “no milk.”

“Ah, good,” he hooks a finger through the handle. His lifts his other hand flicks his index towards you, “take this off,”

“Mr. Laufeuson?” You flinch.

He arches a brow, overriding further argument. You bunch up the satin in your hands and pull the nightgown above your waist. You shimmy it up over your head and slip the straps down your arms. You put it in a heap on the side of the bed, just by his legs.

“Turn,” he twirls his finger.

You obey and put your back to him. The bed creaks as the cool morning air pricks your skin. You jump as he touches the hot flesh along your ass. You hiss and ball your fists up as the bruises thrum.

“Mmm, it should heal,” he retracts his hand, the headboard knocking against the wall again. You hang your head and let out a shaky breath. “Well, pet, you may sit and have your tea before we begin the day.”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you reach for the nightie and he tisks.

“Ah, leave it,” he demands, “I prefer you like this.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you acquiesce and stiffly march forward, curling around to the other side of the bed. You pour yourself a cup as you feel him watching you.

“And you are still excited?” He prompts.

You bat your lashes at him as you cradle your cup.

“About the trip?”

“Oh, yes,” you nod and blow over the steaming tea.

“But you are nervous,” he states, his gaze boring down on you.

“Yes,” you lower your cup over your lap. “Trying not to be.”

“No, it is good, you are well to be cautious,” he girds, “you’ve met most of my family, being confined with them is another task.”

You nod and stare down into the amber breakfast tea. He sips and lets out a deep breath, a rumble rising from his chest. You glance over as he traces his finger along the rim.

“Stay close to me and all should be fine,” he sighs, a strand of anxiety in his timbre, “yes, I do think it is our best plan.”

You bring the cup to your lips and taste the stringent tea. It’s too strong for you but you drink anyway. Your mind isn’t on the tea, it’s on that word he keeps using. ‘Our’? No, it’s his and yours; what he has and what he allows you. One moment, you are adversaries, the next, he speaks as if you’re allies.

You don’t understand him and his moods, you just know you must appease them.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson picks your outfit. A black miniskirt and a white camisole, along with a pair of sheer stockings. You note that it’s rather similar to the maid costume he’d liked so much before. You don’t linger on the thought long before you begin the day.

You have your list of to do’s; the first being, make your own list. You don’t know the first thing about packing. Before, Mr. Laufeyson gave you a carefully curated inventory, but now you have to figure out what you need. That’s a question you rarely consider.

You type out two things before you feel lost; clothes and soap. Well, that’s not very helpful. Which clothes? How do you dress for Wimplesnatch or whatever that thing is? You still don’t know what exactly this celebration is. Is it like Christmas? Or Halloween? Do you need a costume?

You type into the search bar and find a website that generates packing lists. You’re slightly amazed by its existence. It reassures you that you’re not the most clueless person on the planet. You don’t know how many days you’re going to be away so you put in a week and hope for the best.

That looks better. You copy down the list by hand and set it aside. You start a second, one you don’t need help with.

‘Electric, rent, Leslie, groceries…’

You tally up the new deposit in your account into your debts. You login in to your online account and click around. You usually just go to the bank but when you went to get your direct deposit information for the agency, the bank offered a virtual sign in. You’re confused by all the different numbers and buttons.

You go to the FAQ and scroll. You finally figure out how to pay a bill and search in your email for the digital bills you let stack up unread. You add the payees one by one before you attempt payment. You check and recheck each amount before sending it off. When you’re done, your heart lurches at the amount leftover. It’s almost all gone.

You exhale in relief. You can’t go off not knowing your dad’s taken care of. You didn’t part on good terms but he’s still your dad and he’s still very sick. Maybe you should go say goodbye…

“Pet,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he struts in through the open door, “ah, I’ve found you.”

You turn in the seat and watch him roll in a large suitcase behind him. He drags it towards the desk and wheels it to face you. It is the colour of lilacs with rose gold zippers. It’s so pretty.

“There you are. It should suffice,” he slaps the top before letting it go.

Your eyes round as you admire the bag. It’s yours? You reach tentatively to touch it before recoiling.

“Thank you, it’s so nice,” you smile. “Erm, I was thinking…” you reach back and grab the first list, an asterisk next to one of the items, “gas money? Do you–”

He interrupts you with a laugh, “pet, don’t bother with all that. You only need to bring yourself. Besides, you should save your money. My mother does love to spend and she will surely have some special plans.”

“Oh,” you seal your lips and twist in the seat. You reach to exit out of the window but before you can, the screen is spun away from you.

Mr. Laufeyson angles the laptop towards him and bends to scan the screen. His eyebrow furrows and he looks at you in alarm.

“Did your stipend not go through? I will call the bank–”

You gulp, “it did, I just–”

He clicks and you grip the edge of the desk to keep from grabbing him. What is he doing? His eyes flit down the screen.

“You… you’re still paying for the fetid old beast?” He snarls.

“Mr. Laufeyson, he’s my dad–”

“A father who never once took you on a holiday? Or a simple road trip? Yes, he is a prize. If I knew my money would be siphoned into his ungrateful hands–”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson,” you pout and rock in the chair, “I wasn’t trying to be bad.”

He huffs and stands, his hands going to his hips. He looks down at you and you wilt. He rolls his shoulders and drops his arms.

“I know you meant well,” he sighs and feels around his back, sliding his wallet from his pants pocket, “you will take the gold card for the trip.”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I can’t–”

“You will,” he picks out the gold plastic and places it on the open laptop, “I cannot have my family thinking I pay you pennies."

[har-rison-s]

your worth

request: Loki Smut please! Perhaps both Reader & Loki are in love with each other but in denial. Loki thinks he's a monster and a human could never love him til she proves him wrong.

A/N: Listen,,,, I live for this type of smut. I don't know why. Something about comforting someone or making them feel like they matter is... I love. God, I probs sound desperate. But honestly, I just want to love someone :> Anyway :D I love this request, if you can't already tell, and I hope you'll like it. I hope the anon who requested this is still following me! Truth is, I started writing this one back in July 2019 and got around to finish it two days ago and I've finally done it! it's been tough, that's for sure, I've had many writer's block moments. And I think this is actually my first ever Loki thing. It must be, yeah. Though I feel like I've wrote his character a million years already. I certainly did my best on this one. Smut is always a tad harder than fluff or angst for me and I wish to improve my skills at writing it.  Happy reading! Love you all!

main masterlist

mcu masterlist

warnings: angst, smut, comfort.

“Oh, Steve! Star-crossed lovers, seven o'clock.” Tony speaks, seeing Y/N and Loki walking - unplanned - together into the kitchen. Loki rolls his eyes while Y/N does nothing, perhaps only glancing at Loki for a split second, in fear. She searches for any shared emotion between them, even if it may be discomfort. Anything they could share. Loki and her are both tired from Tony's and Sam's constant teasing. But, like the mentioned two, the rest of the team also see what's really going on between Y/N and Loki.

Now, Loki is in bigger denial than Y/N, because her feelings are showing more above the surface, easier to read. She’s recently realised it, hence she tries her best to conceal her feelings, her embarrassment, her truth, so no one could ‘crack her’. She would love to share these feelings with someone, scream them from the top of the Stark tower so that the whole world knows of it, and, most of all, to share them with Loki. 

But Loki... He’s cold. He denies her supposed feelings, and his own when asked about it. He himself can't accept that someone like her, a beautiful girl inside out, a caring and loving one, could like, much less love, someone like him. Well, there's no one else like him, but... Loki's a monster. A villain in his eyes and those of others. He’s been cowardly and submissive his whole life, committed crimes in hopes of earning love, attention… Acceptance. He’s betrayed his dearest, and is known as a galaxy-wide criminal and villain. Who and how could ever feel such things as love or affection towards him? 

“Your endless teasing is growing pathetic, tin-man.” Loki says to Tony, grabbing the coffee machine's handle to pour himself a cup of the terran liquid. A liquid he’s learned to love the taste of over these several months he’s spent in the tower. Tony snorts. To that Loki only shoots the man a look, though he wished he hadn’t.

“Tony, you should stop. It is starting to get old, this joke of yours.” Steve points out and turns over a page in the paper he's reading. Y/N makes quick work of taking sandwiches from the fridge. Mainly because she hates to be the topic of anyone's open discussion, but also because she can't bear hearing Loki denying his love for her. Truth be told, it hurts her very much.

Y/N only puts a dirty bowl in the dishwasher and walks out of the kitchen, leaving the others feeling quite empty with her leave. Loki's eyes sadden a bit upon it, though he erases that soon. He would have loved to be alone with her in the kitchen. Merely her presence soothes him, simply the breath that leaves her chest through her nose, her quiet touch of hand on counter and feet on floor. But not when these two are around. Her alone. It's far too many people for Y/N there, too many eyes and needless constant comments of the head of the team, hence she decided to come back later. 

She could always enjoy Loki’s presence in their lonesome, but not with others present. Though when she does have the chance, she cannot enjoy it for her nerves and anxiousness, her insecurities. 

“Not until something happens.” Tony states, his chin resting in his hand. “I believe—”

“Whatever theory you are about to voice, Stark, will prove you wrong.” Loki interrupts him, putting on a false smile and batting his eyelashes mockingly. Tony and Steve both look at the god drinking coffee. Loki’s gaze is unbreakable on the two.

“—that my teasing, as you call it, will do the exact trick that needs to be done in order for you to get over all this and just—tell each other everything!” Tony raises his hands in the air and looks at Steve. The captain shakes his head at Tony and looks back down at his paper, merely as tired of this as Loki and Y/N are. He’s thinking of leaving the kitchen soon, too.

“And what would you call 'everything'?” Asks Loki. The master of hiding anything that comes from his heart or his mind, hiding his true intentions. He's playing them both for fools. And himself. He knows what he feels, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it and is afraid to state his feelings.

“Oh, please,” Tony starts with an eye roll, “do I really have to tell you what you want to tell her? Honesty - is it not familiar in your realm?” A pause. “Your undying longing! You want each other, it's clear as day!”

“You don't know what you are talking about. Your human eyes see what you want them to—which is false—for what reason, I cannot guess,” Loki says, “no one could feel... longing for me. Or want me. That'd be...”

“Impossible?” Steve suggests. Loki gives him a look. “Surprises myself, this what I say, but that’s not true.” Loki now gives him a confused look. 

“What could be so wrong with a regular girl liking you? Or being with one?” Tony questions. “You’re discriminating the human race, huh.”

“What's in it for you, regular man?” Loki asks, squinting his eyes at the two men. Tony laughs, but Loki ignores it and slams his empty coffee mug into the sink, leaving the kitchen afterwards in a surprisingly calm stride. 

“Hey, horns! No dishes in the sink!” Tony calls after Loki, but he gets no response. Steve looks at his team-mate.

“Really think something as big as a god would care about a dirty, empty cup of coffee?” He asks and closes the newspaper he was trying to read. Tony once again is at fault for his failure.

“Worth a shot.”

“You're the worst match-maker I've met.” Steve admits and stands up from the kitchen table, leaving the room afterwards. Tony frowns, but doesn't doubt himself either way. He knows he's right. About the coffee cup and about Y/N's and Loki's probability of being a thing. It'll happen at some point. 

“Wanna bet?” Stark calls out to the hallway Steve walked down, but he gets no response from the super soldier. Instead, another voice speaks.

“Bet on what?” Tony hears Y/N's sweet voice behind him, entering the now empty and lonesome kitchen. Unnoticed, she slipped in the room through another door, good for quiet entries, but far from her own room. 

“Oh, you came back.” Tony states and Y/N eyes him across the table they're at. “Didn't like me and Steve sharing you two's company, huh?”

“Me and who's company?” She asks, confusion riddling her face as she makes herself sandwiches, again. The plate that adorned the previous ones now in the sink next to Loki’s cup. The mischief god has noticed her appetite and skill for handmade sandwiches, and the sight of her making another pair usually paints a warm smile on his lips.

“Just your one and only.” Tony says in a sickeningly sweet sing-song kind of voice, decoratively placing his palms under his chin. 

Y/N scowls. “There's nothing between me and Loki and I doubt there ever will be.” She says and even chuckles at the end, when instead she wants to wallow in pity cause that's the probability that is bound to happen. No happy ending, no love from him, no affection, no reading books together, no gazing at the stars, nothing shared… None of that. Only loneliness and longing now left for her.

“So you do hope for something to happen?” Tony questions and Y/N gives him an angry look.

“Why would I? I'm not ready for relationships.” She replies carelessly with a simple lie that’d struck the god in question straight into the heart. Only she wanted to add, unless Loki would want one with me. But she didn't. She doesn't like him, she doesn't want him. It'd be silly if I did. “Did you talk about... anything with him?” She betrays herself with these words.

Tony nods, grinning to himself. He has cracked her. There are feelings involved. “He said that, and I'm using his words, someone longing for him, wanting him, is impossible. And a human feeling it is even more impossible.” He says. “Basically, he dodged a bunch of questions, but we all know what’s really going on.”

“Sure does sound like him.” Y/N agrees quietly. Silence falls between the two as Y/N slices salad with a knife. Tony sighs.

“Could you please do yourselves and us a favor and cut the damn sexual tension between you?”

“A what now?” Y/N echoes, scoffing, a shocked expression on her face. “Firstly, if I was to do something, it wouldn't be because of you. I do things for myself, thank you very much. I don't need a motivator.” 

“And secondly?” Tony asks, looking strongly at Y/N. She realises after a moment she has nothing to add to her second point. Well, nothing that Tony should know from her. “You'll feel much better if you get everything sorted out.” Tony states and Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Enjoy your breakfast, Stark.” She says before walking out of the kitchen for the second time this morning. Tony stays in his pose for a few seconds, wondering if he has worked his plan out and if it will work out on its own.

The day goes by and Y/N has found herself suffering from anxiety throughout it. She doubts herself, she worries about, perhaps, showing too much of her true feelings outwardly. This love, this unreturned, one-sided love should not exist. She should never have had such affectionate feelings towards him. She’s lesser than him, and he sees her so, as anyone of his title and kind would. He is a god, a god thrice older than a thousand years, the same amount older than Y/N herself.

She is a simple human girl, she’s only gifted, that’s what could ever make her special in the eyes of someone his kind. She cannot compare to him, or his brother. She’s so little against the metaphorical and physical him, they simply… do not match. He knows this well and could never return the feelings because of this. She’s stupid to even hope for that. 

But she knows little of what he thinks of her. She’d be delighted, to say the least, if she’d ever hear his thoughts aloud. He thinks of her heavenly, much more heavenly than himself and any other creature he’s seen. He thinks of her as sent from the Allfathers, a precious gift to all everyone she meets in her life. She’s truly all grace, love and beauty merged into one human being and Loki longs everyday to be bathed in it. He may only dream of it, though until a point. 

Both of them spent the Saturday in their rooms, in their personal agonies. Many days like this have come and gone in their lives, days when Y/N is not on a mission, going out with the others, grocery shopping or doing anything otherwise productive. Y/N would be ready to write this Saturday down as the worst in her life until a certain minute struck past nine in the evening. 

The team had gone out, an occasion Y/N was not ready to accompany them on tonight. Some type of celebration, maybe? Well, it always is, no matter the reason. So they left Y/N and some other usual sulkers to their own devices, one of them being Loki. Due to his surprisingly kind heart, tonight he decided on going to Y/N’s room, accompany her, if he may, all by her lonesome, and set his mind right by telling her how she feels.

He was pacing a bit before he headed the needed floor up the tower. Hands touching and mushing his own face times and times over, eyes bulging out of their sockets purely out of torturing anxiety. He moved his hair back, he tousled it back into messy locks, over and over. Having no peace in his mind or body. 

Loki could fail miserably, doing what he’s intended to. He could give out his whole heart and soul to her, and she could laugh in his face. Crying would not be as bad as laughing, so he hopes crying is the worst to come of it. But it could not be the worst… The worst of all outcomes would be her inability to return the feelings. Gods, no… Loki hopes to all whose hands it’s in that she does not have this inability. 

A knock comes softly to Y/N’s door. She raises her head from her book with curious eyes and raised eyebrows. She presses the button to open the sliding door, and to her most surprise, Loki almost falls through when the door opens. He is not used to this kind of technology, not yet. He leaves his door open, as in Asgard the bedrooms did not really have doors that can open and close. There were no doors at all. 

Both their eyes meet and Y/N rises from her bed right to her feet, not letting the book go so her fingers would have something to nibble on out of stress. “Loki,” she says, her surprise very apparent in her voice still. The god simply stands in her doorway as the door closes automatically, dressed in… Oh, he looks gorgeous. Loki wears a green linen shirt, his signature colour, similar to those from medieval times, wide sleeves and strings instead of buttons. He does wear dress pants, though, which look like part of a formal suit two-piece, “good evening.” 

“Good evening, my lady.” Loki greets back. 

“What brings you here?” Y/N asks and tries to adjust her pyjama shorts, suddenly realising how undressed she is compared to Loki. Her stripy, loose button up and pyjama shorts are not her best look. 

“Well, I—“ for a moment, Loki looks and acts like his regular self, seemingly about to burst out with a joke or a trick, his mannerisms tell her so. He glances at the corner of Y/N’s bed. “May I sit down?” He asks with innocent eyes. Y/N nods in response, gesturing for him to do so. He nods, sits down on her bed, his pose reserved and a bit stale. Y/N walks now to stand in front of him, but not too close. “I have come to tell you something.” 

Y/N has rarely seen Loki this… gentle, this… fragile, sort of. He does not look like himself, but then again there looks to be revealed more a lot more of him than usual. Purely looking at his face, Y/N wants to whimper ‘i love you’, and she almost does. But thank god for self-control. 

She crosses her arms over her chest out of habit. “I’m listening.” She says, a million positive and negative guesses going through her mind like a thousand volcanoes, making noise and chaos in there, most of all—permitting her to think clearly. 

“I beg you to take this—what I will say—kindly.” Loki says, a saddened expression on his face. “It scares me and tears me apart to say, but I must for my own and your sake.” He starts and takes a deep breath. Here comes ‘i can’t stand you’, ‘i hate you’, ‘i don’t like your company’. Y/N furrows her eyebrows and tries to shut those thoughts out. “I find you, Y/N, very attractive, beautiful, really, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. And not only physically.” Her breath catches in her throat. “You are grace, beauty and wisdom in one body. You are… You are an angel sent from the Gods above to this Earth…”

Seeing the look on Y/N’s face, the look of surprise and confusion and eyes on the brink of crying, Loki’s doubts on himself begin to take over.

“I should not have those feelings for you, it is wrong for me to think of you this way, to,” he gulps, “to want to cherish you day and night, to give you as much love as you give away and deserve in return, and much more; to lay you gently to sleep and give every goodnight to you, as well as see you every morning that I wake. It is wrong.” Loki shakes his head and looks at you, clearly ashamed to have exposed his heart and yearnings like this, to someone, and ashamed of their truth. 

Tears do gather in Y/N’s eyes and she unconsciously drops her book before rushing to stand before the god, carefully cradling his face between her hands. “Why do you think it’s wrong?” She whispers, scared, but searching his eyes for the answer. Loki’s pleasantly taken aback by her action. 

“Because… look at me. You know well who I am.” Loki starts explaining after looking into Y/N’s eyes. “You know what I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt, the way I am, I’m—I’m—I’m a monster.” Loki finishes and guiltily eyes the girl cradling his cold cheeks. She closes her eyes, tears squeezing past her lids, and shakes her head.

“You are no monster.” She whispers even quieter than before. She opens her eyes to press a kiss to Loki’s forehead, which freezes him. She’s in agony, because her greatest love is thinking of himself so low. Loki’s ready to disagree with her, but she speaks before him. “You are not.” She shakes her head again, looking into Loki’s eyes, begging him to listen and believe her, feeling it’s hard to do so. He’s been hurt and he’s been mislead, there’s no wonder he wouldn’t believe every person he speaks with. But with her, it might be different. 

Y/N puts her forehead against Loki’s. “You long for love, and appreciation, and I can relate to that deeply.” She tells him. “But I can also give you that what you desire.” She says and draws back to look into Loki’s eyes once again. He’s unsure, shown by his face, but willing at the same time. 

Loki locks his hand around her wrist, but gently. “Are you certain?” 

“Do not ask me if I’m certain. I have waited, it seems, my whole life, to give it all to you. And you only.” Y/N assures him. Her finger runs along the side of his face slowly, admiring the milky skin adorning his body. “Can I show you?”

“I’d love nothing less.” Loki says, agreeing to give himself to her freely. So she takes him, pushing Loki down on the soft covers and mattress of her bed and balancing herself on top of him. Her knees are on each side of his hips, pressing into the mattress as Y/N straightens her back above him.

Loki wants to keep this exact moment in his memory. She, with tears in her eyes, but with her beautiful hair falling around her face and shoulders, starts unbuttoning her striped shirt. Her face the most beautiful face, as always, and her eyes boring into him. Her crotch pressing into his lower stomach. Loki dares to moves his hands to her thighs, exploring the skin and flesh on her upper legs. Only groping them makes him more hungry and yearning for her.

Y/N doesn’t unbutton her shirt fully, she’s too impatient out of want to know how his lips feel, how he kisses, how his lips would move against hers. So she moves down to Loki, his face showing complete submission to her. Her hand caresses the edge of his hair at his forehead, then her fingers swipe against his cheek. These touches are already almos orgasmic to Loki, he leans into her touch like a kitten who hasn’t known home for long, and he mewls at her feather caresses.

Finally, her hand moves to the back of his neck, the fingertips just trace into the roots of his hair, she’s cradling his head. Their lips almost touch, and Loki can already feel them on his, just a few inches, and he’ll fall in love with her even more than he has already. The fatal kiss, he might call it. 

He leans up out of impatience, but she already presses down, and they meet each other halfway. Whatever Y/N had thought would be kissing him like, what it actually feels like is a hundred, thousand, million times better. It is far better than she has felt in her life. 

Loki’s mind goes numb. He never thought he could get this much satisfaction and pleasure from a mortal being. He never thought his expectations would be out-done. He thinks he’ll never feel anything that could out-do this in his long life. Now this kiss captures everything that they feel for each other intensely. All the love and lust, yearning and hunger, longing and reaching. All of it, in one kiss. How is that even possible? 

Love must be magic.

Instinctively, Loki’s hands grasp Y/N’s thighs harder, pulling her closer to him. But her rolling back into place creates a grind against the god’s slender body, which makes Loki moan and all the more impatient. He longs to feel every inch of her against him, around him, on him, it doesn’t matter. He just needs to feel her.

Y/N presses another kiss on Loki’s lips, and another, and another. When she doesn’t, her mouth open in a gasp, Loki chases her lips and connects them both again. Her hands move to untie the front of Loki’s shirt, but when that is not enough, she untucks the shirt from his pants and slides her hands under the green shirt. Her hands feel warm against his chest, and his skin to her feels a little colder than her own chest. 

The skin is smooth and a little slithery, Y/N cannot guess why. Does he use some special shower gel? Or was he born with skin like that? 

Loki’s fingers cautiously wander around her hips and waist, wanting to explore every inch of her body, to know it, to know it best of anyone. But Y/N feels impatient, teased by his touch, and she grabs his hands in her own, straightening up again. 

She moves his hands under her shirt now, both their actions mirrored, similar as they are both equally curious about the other. “You are not wrong to love me the way you do.” She assures him. “Touch me as you please, I have longed for your complete touch for the longest time.”

Loki would have cried out that he loves her more than anything, but he’s much too turned on to do so. She is sitting right above his growing-by-the-second arousal, causing them both teased pleasure and more arousal. Y/N lets his hands go, lets them wander on their own, feeling afterwards Loki’s touch on her waist, her back, her stomach. While she herself opens the top of his trousers and shrugs them down his legs carelessly, not interested in whether they are or are not completely off. She can only think about him.

His hands grip her back, pulling her down onto him. His next move is to get her pyjama shorts off, and he does so in a hurry. Once the garment is off, Loki grips the back of her head, Y/N’s hair bunching up and twisting under his fingers. Their lips interlock in an intense kiss, so intense, so full of emotion, that both involved shed tears. And the tears wet the other’s cheeks and lips, and they can taste the salt of the drops in each kiss they share.

Y/N thinks Loki’s fingers might dig holes into her back from the way he’s holding her. She pulls away from his lips and locks eyes with Loki again. “Make love to me.” She requests in a hushed whisper. Loki’s eyebrows raise for just a second, but he gets right on it, or rather, on her. 

Loki gently lays her down on her own bed and kisses her neck, her collarbones, his hands already back to her waist. Y/N lets her hands lay by her head, sighs leaving her lips in pleasure, her chest moving up and down in semi-hiccups. Loki’s hair tickles her chest as do his lips, but he decides he cannot watch her from above for any longer.

“I am at your mercy.” He tells her, returning them both to the position they were in previously. Loki’s head now resting against the headboard, looking at her from below again. He loves this much more. Y/N manages a smile, resting both her hands on Loki’s heaving, growing-hot chest. 

“I love you.” She whispers to him, and doing so, she tears up. Loki smiles at her, though a bit sadly, and makes her giggle as well. She takes the back of Loki’s neck again and pulls it towards herself, their foreheads once again pressed together. They pant, they cry and they laugh. It might sound insane, but they don’t much care. 

“I love you.” Loki responds, his eyes looking so sincerely and strongly into hers. Y/N looks over what she sees of Loki an she smiles wide again, disbelief adorning her eyes. She cannot phatom the place and situation she’s in, she cannot phatom the person she’s with most of all. She whispers her love to him over and over, panting breaths interrupting her words, as well as her own kisses on Loki’s lips and cheeks. She pulls him closer to herself, whether it be possible or not, by the back of his neck, gripping his muscles under her delicate touch. 

Loki gives her kisses back, very heated kisses, that each leave her running after fresh breath. Neither of them can wait no longer, and so Loki helps her get her underwear off and Y/N takes his length to line up with her entrance. Her face twists and she draws in a gasp of very high pitch when the tip is teasing her walls, Loki can’t deny his own sensitivity to the feeling. She feels so warm, she feels so silky, and she’ll be around him—

She takes over and pushes him whole inside of her, immediately awakening sounds and feelings in them both they didn’t know they could muster. Both of them freeze, mouths agape and eyes shut tight, their hands interlocked so tightly they might break each other’s bones. 

“Gods, darling…” Loki sighs, speaking finally. She might have thought he went dead for the moment he tried to comprehend he’s really feeling this, he’s really buried himself inside of her, he’s really having this moment with her. Not any other guy or man, him, Loki. 

Y/N shudders. With this first thrust already she can feel him near her spot. His size is incredible, and he’s quite thick. Though a little stretching and stinging at that, there’s pleasure much more than any pain. “C-Can I move?” She asks, opening her eyes to look on Loki. He nods, massaging her hand with his thumb over, readying them both for what’s to come.

She moves upwards, though lazily, and moans at the feeling of him reeling against her walls. She sinks down as deep as she can and lifts herself up again, now pressing their intertwined hands against Loki’s bare chest for support. He lets go of her hands and instead returns them to her waist. Going up and down on him, his hands were extra support. Because, honestly, she’s in such a trance from the feeling that she can barely make herself move. 

Her hands move to his shoulders for even more support and her chest leans towards his, as much rythmically as her hip movements do. Soon enough he thrusts his hips to meet hers, and from then on their movements increase in speed. There is not enough air in the world for them to catch, there is never enough sound for them to show their satisfaction through. Mostly, there is not enough of each other they can get.

Loki pulls her down to himself merely to kiss her, feeling himself nearing the edge. His hand grips her face just right and Y/N clenches around him. It makes Loki accidentally bite down on her lip. She gasps and, oh, oh—she’s coming. She’s coming, and her nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. She is certain she now knows what drugs feel like. But this is certainly better than any drug. Because it’s love, and it’s passion, and it’s wonderful…

“Tell me you’re close,” she begs Loki, mid-orgasm.

“I am,” he confirms, “I love you.” He tells her again, reminding her and himself. He reminds himself because, for the first time in his life, his love and yearning to give his love, has been fulfilled. And returned. And he’s got to keep that in mind. Loki’s eyes look begging, almost praying to her, praying for her love.

He looks into her eyes when they both come, surprisingly in unison, but their eye contact is scarce mostly, her eyes are shut tight. She sings tunes of ecstasy, still barely moving on his length, as best she can. Loki fills her ears with growls and moans he’s finally not afraid to let out. 

When she looks at him and nods ever so subtly, he understands with it that she’s done and he can pull out. So he does, slowly, making her mewl out of sensitivity. She feels a little sore, but it’s an ache she excuses because of who has made her so. She looks at him.

He helps her steady herself on top of him, her nakedness sitting on his stomach. They both do their best at getting their breath back, and as Y/N regains herself, she nears her face down to Loki’s. Their eyes lock. Loki puts his hands on both her cheeks. They share a gentle kiss and lay silently for a few moments, simply looking at each other and marveling in the wonder of one another.

“I never expected someone as delicate and gentle,” Loki admits in a soft whisper, “to love me.” His hand softly moves to caress her hair. She tilts her head. 

“But you’re so…” she whispers herself, then unable to finish her thought and sentence, “you are so…” she struggles still. Loki smiles, even daring to chuckle. She looks at him, more disrupted by his laugh, but a small smile playing on her lips anyway, “you are so everything.” She finally says. “Everything I could ever want.”

“What about what you need?” Loki asks, his hand reaching for hers. She laughs, shaking her head.

“I don’t care about what I need as long as I know that my wants are equal to my needs.” She assures. Loki frowns.

“You needn’t throw yourself away for me, love.” 

Y/N leans closer to him. “I have already done that.” She says and gives his cheek a kiss. “I’ll do that and more for you. And not just because you’re handsome, and not just because of you.” She starts to say and Loki raises his eyebrows, curious. “I knew at some point you’d be the one I love, and I’ve waited my whole life for someone I could love, someone I could give everything to.” She leans back up. “And I feel I’ve been made to love, you know, to love another or many. I guess you came along at the right moment. And even while I doubted you ever returning these feelings, even when I was convinced you didn’t feel the same, convinced you hated me. Loving you was enough for me.”

She looks back at him from looking around the whole time and finds Loki with tears in his eyes. “Sorry.” She says. “That just… came out.”

“Do not be sorry.” Loki shakes his head. “That was very beautiful, I think, because it’s the truth and it’s from you. Your heart’s ways are beautiful.” Y/N blushes at his words. Loki’s head then hangs a bit lower. “I was never sure I could be some who you could love. I’m me, and I may call myself a big chaos. I am not easy to love, so you’ve done a great job.”

“Why do you think so?” Y/N asks, now moving to lay in between Loki’s legs, her chin on his chest. Loki raises his eyebrows. “That you’re hard to love.”

“I have done terrible things, my darling… And I’ve lied. A lot.” Loki nods for effect. “And well, I’m the God of Mischief.” They both laugh. Of course he had to mention that, his arrogance does spring out. “So I doubt anyone could trust me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re no good for me.” 

“Took my words, sweet girl.”

“Loki, I love you.” Y/N looks strongly into his eyes. “And we are good for each other.” She says in an angelic voice. “I know you disagree, but I can learn from you.”

“What exactly, darling, lying? Tricks?” Loki suggests with a sly grin.

Y/N laughs. “No.” She says then. “You’ll see.” Y/N rests the side of her face against Loki’s chest, also listening to his heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his torso and Loki’s hands go to hold her arms, almost protectively. Almost as if she’d disappear if he doesn’t hold onto her. “How much time will it take for you to realise your worth?”

____

Bonus material!

Before falling asleep the night before, Loki and Y/N agreed to making sandwhiches together, more so, Y/N teaching him how to actually make those. He complimented her skill and liking for sandwhiches, Y/N had blushed. So here they were, in their pajamas and in the Stark Tower’s kitchen, cutting lettice and ham and cheese all sorts that Loki’d wish to see in a sandwhich. Some combinations seemed strange to Y/N, but she trusted his taste and decided she wouldn’t try those exact ones.

“No, no, stop!” She scolds in a shushed whisper, with a smile playing on her lips. “Those are too narrow. Salad needs to be big, you know, with volume. Great size!” She decoratively growls at the last two words.

“Like myself.” Loki says and chuckles.

“Yes, mister, thank you for reminding me verbally. This time.” Y/N replies and returns to cutting cheese.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh not-maliciously.” Tony Stark declares in a whisper and takes more nuts from his snack bag. Steve Rogers takes some from the same bag before receiving a slap from Tony for it. 

“Never thought the out-come would be like this.” Steve admits. Both their eyes are hazy while watching Y/N and the god work around in the kitchen. They’re standing in the hallway right where the shadow starts from the kitchen light so the lovers wouldn’t notice them. They won’t be there for a long time, anyway. 

“Who are we watching?” Bucky Barnes asks when he comes up behind them with Natasha, and both grown men squeal in terror from the surprise, Tony dropping his snack bag. Bucky and Natasha burst into uncontrollable laughter while trying to pull the two team leaders further into the hallway to not get noticed. Well, with screams like little girls, that’s a little late.

Loki and Y/N look over their shoulders, spooked from the sound they heard but upon not hearing or seeing anything that could explain it—the former russian assassins did a great job of getting Steve and Tony away—they look at each other and shrug. Then they simply continue their culinary workshop in each other’s company. 

A/N: I really wanna hold Loki like that :/

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[mischiefthedreamerx]

The Battle Of Fancy Words

Synopsis: Young Thor gets bored and invades Loki in the library. Loki is determined to prove he is smarter than his brother. A dictionary is involved.

A/N: Honestly this is just a humours fic.. XD I don't really know the human equivalent of how young they are in this fic so just imagine it however you want.

- - - -

Price Loki sat in the far corner between two tall book shelves of the grand library, away from anyone as much as possible. It was another scorching hot day and the library was one of the places to avoid the heat and as a bonus to avoid his brother for some peace and quiet. Thor avoided the library like it was a plague. He only ever came if he was ordered to do so or when Loki attempted to convince him to come so he'd help Thor with his studies. Thor had managed about 40 minutes till he began to become restless. Mother had said Thor's method of learning was simply different to his but you couldn't pass your studies by throwing fists and using weapons..

Though unfortunately today was not the day where Loki would be left in peace. Loki swore that he was seeing things when he noticed Thor searching around the library. Loki sunk low in his sit, hovering the book over his face. It didn't take long for Thor to locate him.

"Brother!" He spoke loudly, waving up a hand. Loki sighed and took down the book. His brother marched over and sat down at the table smiling. Loki was unable to hide his surprised expression.

"What has befallen you to come to a place you so greatly love to avoid, Thor?" He asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I've come to visit you.. and...read!" He picked up a random book from the table, inspecting it like something foreign.

"I appreciate the kind gesture but I'm doing perfectly fine without you disturbing me." Loki protested, flicking through a page in his book. "Have your friends abandoned you?"

Thor began to absent-mindedly play with the book by flipping through the pages back and forth. "Fandral and the others have left for Vanaheim this morning and Father forbid me to come." Thor sighed.

Loki smirked, eyes down in his book. "I wonder why..."

"That incident was not my fault the last time we went." Thor said, defending himself.

"No, of course. It never seems to be your fault.” Loki said, still showing no interest in his brother. Thor leaned over to snatch the book from Loki's hand in one swift movement. Loki couldn't help but be impressed.

"Hey!" He spoke in a harsh whisper. Loki was not risking getting kicked out due to Thor's presence being loud.

Thor looked at the book, reading the title. "The Art Of illusional Manipulation... sounds very exciting." He passed the book back.

Loki rolled his eyes. "It is actually."

"What book would for recommend for me?" Thor said with enthusiasm, Loki at least appreciated the attempt.

Loki waved a hand to the book shelves. "Take a look for yourself."

Thor slumped into his seat. “You're no fun when you’re like this, brother." He huffed out.

"Like what?" Loki inquired.

Thor shrugged trying to think of a response. "Being so boring."

"You don't have a very wide vocabulary do you, brother?" Loki mused, then he smirked; an idea formed in his mind. Thor looked worrisome at his brother's expression.

"Brother, I do not trust that look on your face. It only means trouble.”

Loki stood up and walked to the nearest shelve and reached up for a small heavy paged book.

"I challenge you" — Loki placed the book on the table — "to a duel! Do you wish to accept?"

"A duel with a.." Thor picked up the book. "a dictionary?

Loki nodded. "This is a challenge to prove how smart your vocabulary skills truly are. I will search for words and you shall give me the definition of said word." This was Loki's territory now and he was loving it. He knew Thor could never resist a challenge.

"I accept." Thor said with pride. Loki took the dictionary and flicked through the pages. Thor straightened his shoulders.

Loki trailed a finger down a chosen page. "Ah, here's a good one. What does..elucidate mean?"

Thor mumbled out a bunch of sounds in disbelief. "That's not fair!" But Loki waited patiently, the smirk never leaving.

"Do you give up?" Loki asked.

"At least give me a clue!" Thor pleaded.

"It's something I often have to do for you."

Thor rested his hand on his chin in deep thought, peering into his brother's eyes as if the answer lay right in front of him. To Thor's frustration, Loki remained quiet, refusing to give in to his brother's silent plea.

Thor threw his hands up. "This is impossible!" He said, a little too loud. One of the librarians came around the corner to shush them.

"Sorry." Loki apologised on his brother's behalf, he raised a silent eyebrow in Thor's direction then returned to give him the answer.

"To elucidate means to explain or make something clear to understand." Loki said, without needing the dictionary to read the definition again.

"That was too hard." Thor said.

"Is the mighty Thor backing down from a challenge?" Loki remarked with amusement.

"Absolutely not. Give me another."

Loki again flicked through the pages. "This is an easier one; vexatious."

Thor still looked just as pained as before.

Loki sighed. "It is currently what I'm doing to you." He said, giving his brother another guess before he'd ask for one.

"Doubting my intelligence?" Thor guessed.

"Not quite, though I appreciate the attempt. It means to cause or tend to cause annoyance and frustration.” Loki answered.

Thor sat back folding his arms. “I don’t wish to play this game anymore.”

“Because you’re loosing?”

“Because you’re gloating!” Thor whispered in displeasure.

“Am not.” Loki lied.

“Give me the damn book! ” Thor accepted the dictionary from his brother’s hands.

Thor took some time to flick through the pages till he stopped on a random page to have a good look.

"This word describes me perfectly." Thor smiled brightly.

"That narrows it down well then." Loki grumbled.

Thor ignored him and said the word with a sense of pride as if this would be his moment he'd finally outsmart Loki "Indomitable."

Loki shook his head. "Impossible to subdue or defeat. Sorry to tear down your ever growing ego but that does not describe you perfectly."

Thor closed the book a little too loudly and slouched back into his seat, turning his head to the side away from his brother.

Loki frowned, feeling quite taken back from Thor's sudden yet odd silence. Loki stayed quiet waiting for Thor to hit him with a sarcastic comeback. But it never came.

The silence between them continued to grow. Loki gazed around the room to avoid the awkwardness then he slowly reached to grab the dictionary and took his time to search for word. Minuets dragged by till Loki spoke up.

"Resolute." Loki said. Thor made no single move to reply for a few moments,still avoiding him.

Then he decided to speak in irritation. "I'm not playing your silly game anymore, Loki."

Without replying, Loki slid the book across the table. Narrowing his eyes downwards at the page to encourage his sulking brother to read the definition of the word.

Thor picked it up to find the word. "Resolute: admirably purposeful, determined, and unwavering.." Thor blinked a few times in confusion. Loki make eye contact with his brother, mischievous expression now gone. In its place was something more sympathetic, his head lightly hanging low.

It took Thor some time to make the connection between the meaning of the word and Loki's change in expression.

"You..chose that word to describe me?" He pointed to himself.

"Yes." Was all Loki could say.

"Oh, well.. thank you, Loki!" Thor smiled brightly in gratitude, he had not expected this sudden turn of events. Mother had once explained to Thor in private how it often took a lot for Loki to be genuine with his feelings because it made him feel vulnerable. Thor could never really understand how simply being sincere to someone could make you feel vulnerable, but Loki was who he was.

"I suppose you aren't always so vexatious." Thor spoke again, using one of the words Loki found from the dictionary. That gained a smile from his brother.

The smile only widened inside some wicked when Loki said; "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Thor frowned, though he did not have time to speak when suddenly a book from the shelf behind him fell on to his head. Thor's eyes widened as he searched from left to right finding who was the fool to dare throw a book at him until he heard the sound of Loki snickering.

"Loki..!" Thor warned. Loki did not cease at laughing. Another book fell on to Thor and this time he had the perfect opportunity to retaliate whilst Loki was busy trying to contain his laughter.

The heavy dictionary met Loki's once laughing face and he fell off his chair onto the floor. In an instant, Loki waved a quick hand of magic but luckily this time Thor was expecting this to happen, giving him extra time to avoid the flying book from the shelf on Loki's side.

As Thor dodged the oncoming book, it collided into the bookshelf behind him causing several other books to fall off the shelf.

"Ha! You missed." Thor said, victorious. Though the feeling did not last for long when the sound of heavy footsteps came their way.

"Boys! This is your final warning." The librarian raised her voice.

The two princes exchanged a glance.

"Go, go, go!" Loki said eagerly, scrambling up from the floor. As if they both read each other’s minds, they began to make a run for it towards the doors exiting the library.

"Prince Loki, I expected better from you!" The librarian continued in a rage of disappointment watching them as they ran through the large library. Running was also forbidden too.

The two brothers did not care in the least as they laughed their way through the library and out of the doors.

- - -

A/N: Thought this would just be a humours fic but actually turned out to have a sweet ending 🥺

[modestlyabsurd]

No Cinderella (Loki x Reader)

"What is taking so long?"

Oh, jee, who knows? Maybe it's all the straps? Or it could be the lack of fabric at all. Where is your head supposed to go? How is anything supposed to be covered with just glittery straps of black and gold silk?!

Your reflection looks back as every decision you've ever made comes full circle; naked in nothing but this tight, skimpy outfit. Everything is showing - everything. Your belly is exposed in a flattering but very uncomfortable way, as the strappy piece that's supposed to be the top covers very little. The bottom piece is least horrible part - with little green gems dangling from ribbons to accentuate your thighs and backside rather nicely.

But who the fuck wants their ass on display in a formal meeting with the ruler of the planet you're trapped on? Who wants that at all?!

"Earth to Y/N, please respond - we're wasting precious time," Loki complains from outside the bathroom door.

Frustrated and defeated, you sigh. "I can't wear this."

"What do you mean you can't wear it? What's wrong with it?"

"It's ridiculous! I look like a cheap French whore."

"Surely you're overreacting - "

You hear the knob turning behind you and throw yourself on the door, "No! Don't come in here - I might as well be naked!"

Loki skips a beat, and can't help the smirk on his face. "It can't be that bad."

"Believe me, it is."

He looks around the room, bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously. The Grandmaster had invited you both to a celebration party in regards to another win from his fighting champion. Loki was quite pleased with the progress he's made with the Grandmaster in gaining his trust, despite the many wrenches you've thrown into the game. If it's not needing the functions of a Midgardian washroom, it's wasting complimentary room service. If it's not that, it's refusing to wear the clothes that the Grandmaster has had crafted and sent especially for you.

It's like you're trying to get you both killed.

"Look, at any rate, you can't keep rejecting the Grandmaster's kind gestures," says Loki.

You've already taken half of the garment off with a few straps still awkwardly looped around your shoulders. "I'm not gonna wear this thing. He'll just have to deal with it."

Loki's fists and jaws clench angrily. "You're going to make me look like a fool with your blatant rebellion," he bites. "And what then?"

"I could stay here and say I'm sick," you suggest.

He scoffs, "No, you can't." You both knew better. Loki crosses his arms, trying to think of an alternative. He won't risk leaving you alone, and either of you missing the celebration could be his downfall - your downfall.

The blue jewel doorknob twists and only your head peeks through. "I'm tougher than I look, y'know."

Loki raises his brows, "Oh, I'm sure. You probably don't even need me here to protect you. Likely don't need me at all."

"I didn't say that."

He turns to look into your eyes and finds you devoid of lies or sarcasm. He can't hold your gaze for too long; he doesn't have time to feel remorse right now.

"I'm sorry, Loki. But believe me when I tell you, no one wants to see what I just saw. Not even the Douchemaster," you cringe, knowing he himself sent that garb to you. Loki? He gets to wear something stylish and concealing. Yet you have to dress like a Vegas showgirl. How is that fair?

As if he's reading your mind - which he's not - Loki detects a pattern. A disgusting, possibly dangerous pattern. He stiffens. You're already vulnerable to a certain degree; it seems as though the Grandmaster would like to highlight that in a certain way.

"You got any ideas?" your voice peeps from the bathroom. Of course. He must fix everything as well. Luckily, an idea does come to mind.

Loki remembers the clothes you wore weeks ago when this ... mishap, first began; a simple tee shirt, a cardigan and blue jeans. As Midgardian as it gets. It would be a giant, bright red target on your forehead at an event such as this, where guests are expected to be formal, or at least culturally formal.

He then thinks of the formal category of fashion in Midgardian culture - something that he's actually developed quite a taste for over the years. The class and elegance it exerts is surprising, and could be substantial among the diverse range of attires to be seen tonight. He can conjure any version, any piece, any outfit imaginable at the tip of his fingers. It's been helpful even in the recent past.

"You've no idea how lucky you are."

"What?"

He huffs. "Nevermind. Are you ... decent, as you put it?"

You pull the red Sakaarian robe closer to your body. "Yeah."

Loki opens the door and your eyes widen, as your jaw drops simultaneously. In one hand hangs a beautiful, simple, slightly frilly knee-length teal dress. One of those you see displayed in the windows of bridal stores with four-figure prices. In the other hand was a dark red, floor-length ballroom dress, one likely displayed inside the bridal store with possibly with an even larger price. Both were approximately your size.

"Wow," you breathe, tongue feeling dry. "How did you ... where did they come from?"

Loki grins at your amazement. "A small bit of magic goes a long way."

Your eyes switch back from the dress to Loki as an airy laugh bubbles from your throat. "I can't believe it."

"What, the magic or the gesture?"

"Both," you blurt out, shaking your head. "Did you make them? Like, out of thin air? Or did they come from somewhere?"

"If I told you all my secrets, I'd either have to kill you, or marry you," he smirks.

You glance away.

He resumes, "Now, which shall it be? Will you be bold, fluid and entrancing like a fine wine? Or will you be graceful, poised and wild, like the oceans? It's entirely up to you."

Sure, Loki saving your ass is more of a business deal at this point. But all you want to do is hug him to release some of the gratitude in your heart. Instead, you clutch the robe tighter and stare at the outfits wondrously. It's as if they were made just for you; to make you feel confident and comfortable, not to make you look the most desirable. Loki, silently and persuasively waves the clothes.

Decisions, decisions. You sigh and purse your lips.

"Are you going to make me choose for you?"

"I mean, the red one is super nice, don't get me wrong. I love it. It just seems kinda high-maintenance, y'know? Plus it's always so hot in the rest of this place."

Then just wear the other dress, Loki thinks, but bites his tongue as another thought comes to mind. "The party could carry on into the late hours of the night."

"Do we have to stay that long, though?"

"We'll stay for as long as we're expected to."

Your heart rate picks up; he left no room for debate. He opens his mouth to further prove his point when cold air wafts around his hand - the blue dress was snatched and the door shut in his face without another word.

He blinks. The weight of the world he's buried himself in suddenly weighs heavy. You're both in for a long night.

~

The teal dress hugged you in the best ways. The modest neckline complimented the simple sleeveless design, and the skirt ruffled ever so slightly, just enough for you to swing around like a little girl. It was fun to do and it also gave you somewhere to put your fidgety hands as you walked. Helpful, indeed, since the atmosphere proved quite intimidating almost as soon as you stepped out of yours and Loki's living quarters.

The thumping of music vibrates in the soles of your flat shoes, and everyone you've passed has turned their heads; staring and gasping before looking away when you acknowledged them. You tried to think nothing of it - even as obvious as it was - and Loki made that a bit easier.

It seemed like he was taking huge steps, though it was likely his normal pace, but nonetheless it made you speed-walk just to keep up. Not wanting to look like a child keeping up with their parent in a grocery store, you fell behind at a comfortable distance. This gave you a clearer view of the Sakaarian passersby. Which isn't exactly what you were going for.

As he got a few feet ahead, amidst all the faces and bodies around, you locked eyes with someone in a shaded corner. A woman, who could've been Asgardian - or even human. Dark golden skin, elaborately braided hair, a bottle to her lips, and big, striking eyes staring into yours. Reading what she could in a split second's time.

Your feet keot walking. Her face imprinted on your mind long after she was gone.

Thump!

You jump a foot back. Loki looks down at you, a mix of amusement and embarrassment on his face.

"Watch where you're walking. And it's not polite to stare."

With your entire body tightened into a ball, you awkwardly dust off his arm that you bumped into. "Sorry."

For the rest of the way, you look at your shoes.

To Loki, he was merely jesting due to the overt staring on the part of everyone else. Normally he would glare daggers sharper than anyone in the entire palace, but instead he chose to keep his chin up and embrace the looks - be them mostly toward you. What can he say? He accidentally chose the perfect dress for you out of thin air.

He'd noticed you doing what he'd chosen not to, and stopped to watch. Your head was completely turned to whomever received your look, and the mischief in him knew you wouldn't look up. But after that, you changed. He found himself missing that little spunk you'd built up when a thick silence took its place.

You kept falling behind in walking pace, so Loki decided to slow down a bit. Keep you at his side to keep the message clear: you were not to be meddled with by anyone.

The music from the party grew increasingly louder as you got closer. Loki could feel your feelings, despite not being connected to you in any way or an empath of any sort. It bothered him, needless to say. Both the inlet to your energy and the energy itself.

He elbows you in the shoulder, and you jump - confirming what he feels. Your big, nervous eyes glance up at him briefly.

Loki couldn't help but smile. "Say something."

You sigh shortly. "Everyone's staring at me."

"Would you like me to remove their eyes?"

You stop in your steps, and the mortified look on your face was priceless. Exactly what Loki wanted - a bit of loosening up.

He laughs, "What? I'm only joking."

"Something tells me you're not."

"Ah, yes. The fine line between truth and lies."

"So you're a poet now?"

He laughs again. It warms you from the inside out. "Maybe I am."

The two of you round a corner into a dark corridor, where two armored bouncers stand before a large door. Lights strobe and flash beneath it and the music pounds through. Loki confidently gives your names and the guards let you in.

The air was warm with bodies of Sakaarian citizens, and immediately you're bombarded by servers offering drinks. You take one, dumbfounded, and turn around to see the door shut tightly behind you. Blood drains from your face. In its place is clammy dread; the only thing grounding you is the cold glass sweating in your hand. The drink is glowing green - when you smell-test it, the alcohol fumes make you gag.

What kind of formal party is this?

Unable to hear yourself think over the music, you rely on your eyes. People are stumbling already - a rainbow of drinks spilt on the floor as the lights reflect upon them. Silver statues of the Douchemaster stand everywhere you look; tiny ones, Oscar sized ones, and one large one at the end of the room. It's enough to turn your stomach. And then the real thing spots you.

When the Grandmaster bounces up to you, your hand juts out and thankfully lands on Loki. He hadn't left your side.

"Ahhh! My very special guests, welcome! Welcome!"

"Our dear friend," Loki bows, "thank you so much for inviting us to your celebration. We couldn't imagine a greater honor."

"Oh, psh! Stop. The honor is mine! And dare I say you both look ... ah, dazzling," the Grandmaster hesitates, his eyes glued to your dress. The dress that definitely isn't what he sent you. "Yes, dazzling indeed, but where is the lovely piece I had made for you, dear?"

You open your mouth to respond, but Loki places a silencing hand on your shoulder. "Well, as you can see, my suit arrived in perfect condition," the Grandmaster nods attentively, "but it seemed as though the piece designed for my friend had been badly damaged. Burned beyond repair."

The Grandmaster's yellow eyes widen. "Oh my, I apologize. I certainly didn't send it that way."

"Oh, of course not! We would never think so. It was likely the doing of an envious servant and thus, we were forced to improvise."

"Huh," the Grandmaster says. "I'll have a talk with Topaz about that. I send everything through her before it goes through the sla - ahem, servants," he smiles a stomach churning smile. Loki squeezes your shoulder gently and you hold on to it for dear life. He's all that's keeping you together.

The Grandmaster quickly dismisses himself to greet other guests, leaving you and Loki to your devices. The first thing you do is relearn how to breathe, and then how to swallow.

"Hey," Loki says over the music, "come on. Try to have a bit of fun."

"This isn't exactly my idea of fun."

He guides you over behind a red couch, a space without listeners. Guilt swims in his green eyes as he chooses his words carefully. "I know you don't want to be here. But we have no choice. This is all a part of the plan, alright?" he looks around. "However, I'm willing to compromise. We can leave in just a couple of hours, if you'd like."

You nod. "I would."

"Very well, then." Loki shifts, "In the meantime, relax a bit. I'm right here. I won't let anyone harm you, as promised."

~

Oh boy. Two hours, you thought. That's doable. What could possibly happen in two hours time? Well, a lot of things.

But one thing that definitely was not on the list was Loki getting white girl wasted.

How? you'd asked yourself. You either lost track of how many drinks he consumed, or he drank one laced with diesel fuel. By the time you realized it, he was stumbling and falling into a couch full of other drunk guests. A sloshed drink in hand, red faced, giggly, and continuing to mingle as if nothing happened.

You stood there, frozen. Thank God the Grandmaster was conveniently nowhere to be found.

Seeing Loki in such a compromising state - for both him and yourself - it left you speechless. It ultimately left you alone. Alone under the weight of everything, while he shambled around in an oblivious state of euphoria. If you were to say a tiny pang of betrayal didn't sting you a bit, you'd be lying. Matter fact, you could've strangled him.

To top things off, what does he do when he sees you standing there shamefully? Does he apologize? Does he make room for you on the couch like a normal person? No. He drunkenly offers for you to sit on his lap. In front of everyone.

And that's when you ended the party.

The whole way back to your living quarters you ignored the nasty looks from everyone around you in the corridors. It wasn't hard this time since you had to be responsible for a surprisingly heavy man-sized baby who's just learned how to walk. Countless times he nearly tackled you to the floor with just his sheer, uncoordinated body weight.

But none of that even compares to the difference in his speech. As if things couldn't get any more embarrassing, you discovered that not only is Loki indeed a poet, but alcohol brings out an imprisoned, flirty Shakespearean teenager from him.

"Oh, my dear friend - beautiful and delicate as thou are, carrying the weight of a God on her mighty shoulders! Heheh ... thy strength is growing, my blooming flower. I shall need to be cautious in my further steps - whoohoo!" he howls as he trips again from uneven steps, steadying himself on your arms and shoulders.

You look for a window to throw him out of. But these hallways are cruel.

"I - ehehe - I seem to be losing balance as my true heart yearns toward thee, sweet warrior. And in thy face I see the map of honor, truth and loyalty." You look up through strands of his black hair obstructing your view and find him blindly looking around; cheeks flushed, a big boyish smile on his face. Under different circumstances, you'd melt to a sticky mess.

"Lies."

Loki snickers and belches. "She’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is woman, and therefore to be won."

Somewhere distant, the old saying plays in your mind about a drunk man's words being a sober man's thoughts. "You clearly have no idea what you're talking about - stop trying to take such big steps!"

He laughs brightly, unreserved. Even though he stinks of stale liquor, it was pleasant.

After what took three times longer than it needed to, you arrived to your living quarters and keyed in the access code. Loki practically fell through the threshold and bounced off the surrounding walls. Jesus Christ, he was gonna hurt himself.

You guide him into his small little bedroom where you knew he'd be safe. Politely you turn away so he could change clothes - though he just "magicked" them, and much like earlier at the party he disgracefully fell into the bed.

In a fit of giggles he adjusted to a more comfortable position. You can't help but roll your eyes at how ridiculously out of character he is. And then you think of how many people saw it as well. Before you can stop yourself the words lightheartedly flow out. "You really made an ass out of yourself."

He clears his throat, "That ... is completely subjective, my dear. One fellow's ass is another fellow's aspiration."

"Uh-huh."

"If I were to say you were the most beautified, would you say that beautified was a vile phrase?"

"If you were sober, I probably would." Tomorrow feels so close, but with drunk Loki, so far away. You switch off his wall lamp as he yawns. "You want me to tuck you in?" you ask jokingly.

"What's that?" he chirps, to your surprise.

"It's uh," you gather yourself, "well, on Earth, it's when you tuck the blankets around someone to make them feel more secure at night. Parents usually do it for their small kids."

Loki licks his lips in thought. "I don't think that's something we do in Asgard."

Come on. How could you not tuck him in after hearing that?

With the soft blue blanket draped over his stupidly long body, you tuck it tightly around him - from his wiggly feet all the way up to his neck. Thoughtlessly, like a parent would do their child, you peck him on the forehead to finish.

In the dark you suddenly lock eyes, and he looks at you in a way that, in fairy tales, Prince Charming might gaze at Cinderella.

But this isn't a fairy tale. And you're no Cinderella.

Mixed up in your feelings, you make way to leave; you make the mistake of looking back and find Loki watching you go - as if you were leaving for a long voyage and he actually cared about you.

His eyes were glassy and dilated. "Why have you tolerated me for this long?"

You blink. The sadness and suddenness of the question rattled your skin. What choice do I have? you almost say, but don't. He knows that.

Instead, you reply, "I mean, you're not the worst roommate in the world. You're pretty nice, actually. Look at me," you motion to the slightly disheveled teal dress still hugging your body, "I should be thanking you, for fuck's sake."

He nods shortly, casting his eyes downward.

"I pretty much owe you my life at this point," you add.

Loki meets your eyes again, and this time, the solemnity in them is sharp enough to kill. "You don't owe me anything."

An itch on your neck bites you. You weren't ready for the deep change in tone. Shakespearean-man-baby was much easier to deal with; well, easier to ignore. Now it seems as though Loki doesn't want you to be gone, as he might soberly portray. Or it's completely the alcohol talking.

Either way, you let it comfort you.

~

holy shit guys im sorry i dunno what happened it just ... happened

tag list:

@sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[levi-inthesun]

3 am

This is for @buckysknifecollection​ writing challenge, with the prompt “I can’t sleep”, prompt is bolded.

Warnings: nightmares, sleep deprivation, swearing, not taking care of yourself? I think thats it?

Loki x reader

Tags: @buckysmischief​ @dungeons-and-awkwarddragons​

You sat on the cold marble counter while you waited for the toaster to pop, legs gently swaying. You looked out the large, floor to ceiling windows and focused on the stars hovering just above the outline of pine trees that bordered the edge of the compound’s grounds. Some song stuck in your head that you quietly hum - better that than allow the thoughts and images that plague your nightmares to run rampant. 

“I don’t want to frighten you, Y/N by not announcing myself, so,” Loki clears his throat before bowing. “It is I, Loki, the god of mischief.” 

You look up to see the handsome god approach you from the dark hallway, now illuminated by the moon and stars through the large windows. “Hey, Loki,” you said with a light chuckle. “I appreciate the announcement, heaven knows how much longer I would have lasted from you sneaking up on me.”

Loki finished his approach and glanced at the toaster to your left. “I believe those have to be plugged in for it to do its job properly, yes?”

“Goddamn,” you muttered, reaching to plug the toaster in and pushing the lever down. 

“What are you doing awake, my dear?” he asked, tucking some hair that had come out of the messy bun behind your ear.

You shrugged, eyes on your bare toes. “Can’t sleep.”

A slim finger is placed under your chin, and blue eyes meet your now misty eyes.

“And what, my love, is plaguing you?” 

Loki had a tendency to call you pet names and overtly flirt with you, however, you were absolutely positive it was just because it was Loki. He flirted with everyone. 

You sighed before jumping out of your skin as the toaster popped. “Shit!” 

Loki chuckled as you quickly grabbed your food, setting them down on a paper towel you had on the counter. Once you thought it had cooled down enough you picked up one and held the other out to Loki.

“Have you ever had a poptart?” you asked, as he took it from you.

Loki shook his head as he took a bite, “What in the nine realms is this?” Loki asked, a confused look on his face.

“It’s a poptart,” you replied simply.

“This is not tart, although I do understand where the pop comes from,” nodding his head towards the toaster. 

You just shrug and watch as he tentatively takes another bite now that he knows what to expect. 

“You did not answer my question, darling,” Loki said after another moment.

You nodded, and Loki watched as your shoulders slumped.

“I keep having nightmares,” you replied after repeating the answer in your mind a few times, pushing yourself to answer him. “Thanos,” you say, assuming his next question.

“Ah, I see,” he replies, setting the poptart on the paper towel. 

“I should be fine though,” you say, hopping off the counter. “I think I’m gonna go try to sleep some more.”

“Y/N,” he calls after you’ve successfully forced yourself to take a few steps towards your room. “Should you find you are not ‘fine’ after all, I could help if you’d like.”

Your eyes find your bare toes again and you bite your lip, “Thanks, Loki.” 

You continue to cross paths with Loki throughout the day and you knew that he knew you hadn’t been successful, so you avoid giving him the opportunity to bring it up. This is how the next few days continued and Loki could see you visibly deteriorating due to lack of sleep, yet you kept pushing yourself forward. 

Loki had had enough during training one day. 

You were sparring with Steve who had a tendency to push you past what you believed to be your limit and oftentimes, good things came out of it. This was not one of those times.

“Come on, Y/N!” Steve yelled, “Get back up! Get on your feet!”

You drag your hands underneath your body and struggle to push yourself off of the mat. 

“Steve,” Loki’s voice was low and dangerous. “You are pushing too hard.”

Steve ignored Loki’s warning and you used it to fuel yourself back up to your feet just to prove him wrong. 

You sway, trying to keep your balance and raise your fists, squaring up. Steve does the same and throws a punch but it’s like things are moving in slow motion before his eyes. He looks to your face and finally sees the dark circles under your eyes and the dead weight in your eyes, but then his fist is making contact and he does his best to pull back but it isn’t enough. 

You wake up in your bed, body sweating, mind racing, and your body is in pain. You struggle to move to a sitting position and notice the man sitting beside your bed.

“Please don’t say-”

Loki cuts you off, “Darling, I wouldn’t dare say anything to make you feel worse about your situation than you already feel. I am, however incredibly worried about you.”

You let the weight of Loki’s words rest on your chest before turning your face towards him and nod. 

“That’s all I have to do?” you ask Loki. “I thought this was going to be more complicated.”

“This is in fact, it,” he says as he runs his fingers through your hair soothingly. “You rest and I will be in here with you,” he taps your forehead. 

Loki does something to make it easier for you to fall asleep and you begin to see the cursed images form before your eyes. 

Thanos has his large hand wrapped around your neck while simultaneously forcing you to watch all of your teammates die. You are sobbing, desperately trying to breathe and your heart keeps breaking as they all die over and over and over and ov-

“Y/N,” You hear Loki’s voice and you follow with your eyes to where he is standing off to the side. “This is just a dream and it cannot hurt you.” 

As the words leave his lips Thanos’s hand is no longer cutting off your airway. One by one you stop Thanos from torturing and murdering your family and soon you are standing in the sun with Loki brushing tears from your cheeks.

“Loki,” you whisper, “Can we just, stay here a little longer?” 

“Of course, love. We can stay here as long as you’d like,” Loki mumbles as he tucks some hair behind your ears. 

When you wake up you find yourself in Loki’s arms, his nose nuzzling your hair. 

“Good morning, pet,” he greets you, a smile threatening to slip onto his lips.

“Thank you, Loki,” you whisper, tilting your face up and brushing your lips against his.

[michelleleahhh]

happiness is a butterfly

Summary: If Loki’s a killer, then what’s the worst he could do to a girl like you? One who is already hurt. 

Pairing: Loki/Reader 

Rating: M, Angst

Word Count: 2k

“Do you want me or do you not?”

Loki’s eyes dart to yours, “What does that mean?”

You lick your lips, heart pounding painfully in your chest. Is this aching from falling in love or from hitting the ground?

It’s just that… you’re so tired. So extraordinarily exhausted with how the night has turned out.

This morning you woke caged in his arms, bare chest pressed against your back, sinewy muscles nestled against your clammy skin. He trailed butterfly kisses down your neck, pulling you closer, his hands mapping your skin like it spanned continents. The valley of your breasts, the planes of your stomach, and the cave between your thighs until you both were spent to completion. Then, you got up, redressed, and snuck out of Avengers Tower just as dawn broke, treading back to your old walk-up in the West Village to get on with your day.

And now, you’re standing on the sidewalk, just outside of the bar you met him.

A bell chimes twice, marking two am. You should be freezing from the late February air of New York instead, the hazy hot air from the dive bar has left your skin overheated - with anticipation, with hate, with comfort.

“I felt one thing this morning, and now I’m feeling another,” you answer cryptically.

The live band’s strumming guitars creep outside, lulling patrons in to sway to the music. His eyes narrow, his face remains stoic. “It sounds like you are the one that is unsure.”

“You just spent two hours ignoring me and talking to her.” You argue, gnawing on your bottom lip, trying to not sound insecure.

He shakes his head, “Who?”

“While I sat in the corner waiting for you to come over to me, like-like I was some extendable, unwanted guest of yours.”

His lips pull down, “You are not making any sense. I asked you here.”

“Don’t do that, Loki.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t sit there and pretend that I’m crazy, I know I’m not crazy.”

Loki pulls his head back, staring down at you over his pointed nose. He looks like a snake, weighing its options and ready to strike the venomous blow. “Well, you sound unstable.”

“Nice.” You snarl, crossing your arms over your chest.

They warned you.

They all warned you. All of the Avengers sat there leaving you to question your own sanity because you were trusting him with your heart. And they all warned you - said that Loki was not capable of loving anything but himself.

How did you get here?

“And who, pray tell, was I ignoring you for? The Assassin? Or perhaps it was Stark’s wife,” He snarls.

You look away, tucking your chin to your chest and looking at the sidewalk between you.

No, it was her. The new recruit, the one that everyone was in awe with - with her raw talent, witty banter, and bubbly personality. (And though you loath to admit it: her perfect body, flawless skin, flowing hair, and unique, sultry eyes.)

 “Ah, Miss Carter, I presume is who you are referring to.”

You don’t answer him, instead, you hug yourself, the cold air starting to creep into you and regretting that you left your jacket inside.  

He sighs and unzips the black sweatshirt he had on, wrapping it around your arms.

When you don’t move to put your arms through the sleeves, he scoffs. “Come pet, put on the jacket. It’s not exactly summer.”

“Don’t think this means you’re forgiven,” you bite out, pulling your arms through the soft cotton. It smells like him: crisp and clean and pine woods.

“I fear you’ve had too much to drink.”

Perhaps that is true, “Do you know what they even say about you?”

“Do you think I care what my brother and his little minions say?”

“I do,” you snap. “I think you care more than you pretend too. I think, in fact, you would change everything about yourself if it meant that you could be accepted. Even if that meant being with Ms. Carter,” you spit her name. “Not that you would mind being with Ms. Perfect Carter, with her long blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes, and delicate bone structure.”

Loki arches an eyebrow, “Careful, pet. Your jealousy is not becoming.”

“They say you’re evil- a-a- a sociopath, serial killer. Who never hesitated to double-cross his own brother, who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me.” Okay, you’ve probably had too much wine. But the words keep coming, like some vile spew of truth. “And if that’s true, if everyone knows that’s true, what does that make me? Me. Someone who is still going with it, you, despite the warnings. Does that make me... some, some groupie? Like, am I a masochist? Or maybe I’m already hurt. So, what’s the worst that could happen if you are what they say you are?”

Loki visibly swallows but doesn’t say anything.

“Maybe, now, I am just expecting for you to hurt me, so that way it won’t hurt when it does? I’m expecting you t-to double-cross me too because that’s what your past has made me expect.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the green glaze over with something akin to pain. Like he’s trying to hide every emotion in a barrio that is unable to “It sounds like, you are the one that cares what they think.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Loki.”

The Demi-God lets out a bark of laughter, as the corner of his lips pull up. “I didn’t realize that I was the one being uncouth after your lovely soliloquy.” Your eyes skate to his lips, watching as they pull back like he’s ready to attack. If he’s as bad as they say, then maybe you’re already cursed.  He sighs, runs his long, pale hands through his hair and away from his face. “Perhaps, I should just call you one of those cars that to bring you home.”

“I don’t need a taxi.”

Loki clicks his tongue, “Then should we go back inside? I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You shake your head, “I’m not going back inside to see all of them.”

“Can’t face your silent departure?”

“It’s called an Irish Exit,” you tell him in a grumbling voice.

“Yes, aptly called, judging by the way you stumbled through the entryway and slammed the door shut.”

A shiver works up your spine, the warmth from the alcohol completely gone. You burrow yourself in Loki’s jacket, pulling it tighter around yourself.

He sighs. “Come,” he calls, pulling you to a car on the street. With the quick wave of his hand, it unlocks and he pulls it open for you to get into the backseat.

You pause, staring for two moments at the black leather. Then you get in, perching yourself on the edge of the seat as Loki slithers in beside you a foot between you.

“It’s not much warmer in here,” you protest.

Loki rolls his eyes and waves his hand, a blast of warm air suddenly flooding through the car.

“Better?”

You shrug, finally relaxing and crossing your legs, picking at the hangnails on your fingers.

“I…” Loki starts then pauses with an overly dramatic sigh. “I am not interested in Miss Carter.”

You bite your lip. “Yet.”

“Okay, now I’m calling you a car.” He pulls a phone from the thin air.

“Don’t call me a taxi,” you argue, wrenching the cell from his fingertips and throwing it down next to you.

“Then what is it that you want? I just made it quite clear I was not interested in her.”

“I don’t want you not interested in her, I want you to interested in me.” You finally admit, pulling on your nails viciously. There’s a silence that sits heavily in the car.  A tear slips down your cheek as you burrow further into his sweatshirt. “I just want… to dance with you.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrow across his forehead, turning more towards you. “The music in the bar isn’t necessarily music I would dance to.”

You let out an unexpected bubble of laughter. No, you wouldn’t dance to the weird alt-rock music that was inside either. But as soon as the joke fades, you’re back to feeling that lonely, dark, silence.

“I mean,” you pause. “Every time I think I’m happy… it’s like a butterfly and escapes through my fingers. I can never manage to actually keep it. I just want to - you know - be with you, I guess.” You gnaw at your bottom lip. “I want to - you know - dance with you or hold your hand when walking down the street or just hold you tight regardless of who would see it. I don’t want to hide us because it is more convenient for you. You know? I guess… I just want you…”

Loki stills, falling back against the seat and staring out the windshield. He takes three breaths in, exhales them a little longer each time.

“You were the one who left this morning.” He notes, drumming his fingers against his thigh. “I thought you did not want people to kno-“

“I didn’t,” you cut him off. “But… I don’t want to-”

Loki scoffs, shaking his head. “It seems like you don’t know what it is you want. You do not wish to be seen with me, but you do not wish to be ignored by me either. Do you really want people to know that you are with me? The cursed one who tried to conquer this world.”

“I think…” You think you do. You think you want him. You think you want him to meet your family or friends or the people that actually give a damn about you. And you want to meet his people in that way, to joke with them, to tease him in front of them in a way that isn’t going to lead to snide remarks or people gesturing for you to stay away from him.

“Loki is complicated,” Thor whispered with bright, drunk eyes when you finished your fourth glass of wine in a long sip. “It would be easier for you, in the long run, to stay away from him. He is trying to redeem himself and if you aren’t completely committed to staying by his side, then I would suggest you do the best thing and leave him. He’s delicate - so if you are not sure - just stay away..” 

You want to tell Loki what his brother said.  

You bite your lip instead, another tear slipping down your cheek. “I think I just need time I guess, to figure it out.”

Loki juts his head in a sharp nod. His body pulling back into a frigid, statuesque rigid pose.  

“I’m so confused,” you finally admit, when he doesn’t say anything as another tear falls. “God,” you mumble, wiping the tears. “I want you, Loki, but- I’m...” You trail off, unsure of where you were exactly going with that sentence.

“Well,” Loki begins bitterly, “You know where I stand.”

“Do I? I feel like you haven’t said a word,” you accuse.

“I am not interested in anyone else. I think it is quite evident that I do not often involve myself with women. I am quite… particular of who I desire.”

You hold your breath. “So, you… you want me too?”

“If I must spell it out, then yes. I am interested in pursuing you.”

“Pursuing?” You tease, with a watery smile, “What, like courting me?”

“Something to that effect, yes.” Loki deadpans making your heart skip a beat. “Though, I do not want to cause you to rush into something if you are not… sure.”

You study him, your eyes perusing his face when he finally turns to look at you. You imagine entering a relationship with Loki of Jotunheim would be somewhat of a scandal for most of the world. You imagine what people would think of you. Imagine the headlines blogs, newspapers, and websites would write of a woman who would knowingly enter a romantic relationship with an anti-hero.  

You aren’t sure if you are ready for that, honestly.

So, you nod, pulling his hand into your lap and tracing his long fingers.

Loki’s eyes glance down at your hands combined, studying as you lift his fingers to your lips and place a soft kiss on his palm.

“Can I sleep on it?” You ask solemnly thinking you already know what your question will bring.

But to your surprise he just nods, his lips pulling down not an argument on his lips.

“You can call me a cab now,” you whisper, tightening your fingers on his hands.

Taglist: @fairlightswiftly​​, @javelinamilk​​, @wannabebr1t​​, @joyofbebbanburg​, @schmidten17​​, @winterisakiller@addyliners, @iamverity,  @kybaeza​,  @sherlokiholland​

[wordynerdygurl]

Costumes & Kittens

Summary: You convince Loki to dress up for a Halloween party and then enjoy a private after party.

Loki x Reader

Warning: SMUT, Funny, Loving Loki

"Are you really going to put on a costume?" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable Loki uttered over the idea.

"Heck yes! And you are too! Right?... Right?" But the look on Loki's handsome face explained exactly what he thought of the idea. Begging him you continued, "Oh, come on! It's so fun!! You get to be someone... or something else for a night."

Waiting for the walk signals to change, Loki looked up and down the street but not at you while saying, "I understand the custom. The appeal of it... but isn't this just child's play? Nonsense?"

You shrugged. "So what if it is? What's so wrong with letting your inner child out to play?"

"My inner child is a miniature frost giant with daddy issues and a desire to conquer... I don't think that's a costume one buys at Target, dearest."

You laughed, he wasn't wrong, really. "No, I guess not... but maybe you're looking at this all wrong. Maybe the question is, 'If Loki Odinson could be anything, what would he be?' Ya know what I mean?"

Shrugging Loki replied, "Anything? I'd be King of Asgard. Or the Universe."

"Be serious for a minute?" It's a tiny bit exasperating trying to explain these kind of things to Loki.

"Serious about a children's fancy dress party?" His eyebrows lifted archly.

"No. Serious about the question. What does Loki want to be when he grows up?" Punching his strong arm playfully, you drive the point home by batting your long lashes at The God of Mischief. He pulls you into a one armed embrace and kisses you sweetly.

"You know I'm over a thousand years old, right? I'm technically over grown at this point." Loki reminds you as he pulls open the door to your favorite restaurant.

"Funny, you don't look a day over 800." Loki nods, chuckling at your quick wittedness. You lean against him, waiting for the hostess to acknowledge your famished existence.

"So, you're going to dress as what, exactly?" Curiosity had Loki caught in its web. Reaching up on tiptoes you kiss his cheek and reply, "That, my dear, is a surprise, unless you want to do a couples costume? Like Doc and Marty... or Westley and Buttercup?" Loki scrunched his nose up.

"Ok. Too soon... so, what about you? Any ideas of what you'd like to be?" The pair of you are flirting like a teenagers as the restaurant hostess finally smiled at you. Leaning into your neck Loki nips your ear gently then husks, "The man who makes your quim quiver."

"How many?" The hostess, slightly put out by your public display, is looking at you with impatient eyes. Your mouth has gone dry with lust so Loki answers, "Just two, dear."

---

"This party is amazing!" You shout to Wanda over the pulsing music. She looked so cute as a rainbow unicorn, her golden horn bobbing in time with the 'Monster Mash'.

"You look so good! Oh my goodness, how funny!" Doubling over, Wanda was in tears at your costume, and you had to admit it was pretty hilarious. "Nat! Come here!"

"Noooo! This is great!! Loki's gonna lose it!" Natasha clutched her flapper's boa closer as she giggled.

"Thank you guys! I worked really hard on it!" You were incredibly proud of your look tonight. Black boots laced over your calves to your knees. The armour you'd pieced together from leather scraps and duct tape hugged your torso in green and gold flaring into a matching skirt. The best part was the flowing emerald cape that had started life as a satin sheet but now followed behind you like a green shadow.

Recreating Loki's horned crown had taken weeks of meticulous papier mache, sand paper and gold spray paint but damn, you felt like Asgardian royalty. Did Loki have this sense of power all the time? You shivered a little at the thrill of it.

Knocking back a long swig of your beer, laughing at Sam and Bucky dressed in those tuxedos from Dumb and Dumber, you realized this party was in full swing. Maybe that's why you were taken by surprise when a low, familiar voice crooned in your ear, "My queen."

Spinning on your heeled boots, you found Loki at your side, hands behind his back, smirk firmly in place. His eyes swept over you, taking in the details of your costume with a raised eyebrow, causing blue flames of excitement to curl low in your belly. You felt a creeping blush rise over you and channelling your inner God of Mischief you defiantly raised your chin Loki's direction.

"Yes... kitten?" Now, Loki called you kitten almost everyday, and it never failed to make you purr. Tonight, you used the endearment because the Trickster was dressed in a jet black three piece suit, black shirt and tie, with two tiny ebony cat ears on his head. His cheshire grin didn't hurt his ensemble at all.

"You look... well, almost as good as I do in that suit." His tone is light but you read a touch of approval in the mix. With a hand over his heart, Loki adds, "I'm honored that you went to all this trouble, little one."

Feeling emboldened by the role you're dressed for, you look down your nose at Loki, just like you'd seen him do countless times before. "Trouble? Not at all. This was something I had lying around. I thought these mortals would appreciate seeing a goddess in all her splendor."

Laughing, Loki replies, "Well you are certainly fearsome, my lady. And may I say, you have excellent taste."

You laugh too, "You may! Come on, let's get you a drink!" Grabbing Loki's hand in yours you pull him towards the bar. The crowd thins a bit as you get further from the music so it's easier to chat. Once you each have a cold beer, you perch on the countertop while Loki leans against the kitchen counter, again looking you over.

"I would be a beautiful woman." He stated wistfully. You snort, almost spitting up your suds. "I don't know about that, but you're a pretty sexy cat, Loki." You reached out and flicked one of the furry ears.

After a sip from his bottle Loki counters, "Of course I am." Curling his free hand into a claw, he does his best feline impression, "Meow!"

With a wide smile you casually say, "You dressed up. I wasn't sure you would."

"You said I could be anyone or anything." Loki's lip lifted into a knowing half smile. Nodding, you concede, "I did." Clinking the necks of your beer bottles together you flash Loki a slow smile. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at your black kitty cat, practically purring yourself. Loki watched your mouth move, his own lips parting slightly, as he leaned towards you.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of Loki's lip lock when you heard, "Reindeer Games! That is not an acceptable costume!! You can't just wear your battle gear..."

Tony stopped short when he saw your head snap around, golden horned crown bobbing slightly with your movement. Loki peeked at the intruder over your gossamer green shoulder. "Oh. My mistake. Great outfits. Party on." And with that Iron Man, dressed in a perfect replica of Elton John's glitter baseball uniform, swiped a bottle of vodka, and swaggered towards the noise.

"Wanna dance?" You're hopeful that he'll say yes because Loki is great on the dance floor, and he knows it. Grabbing you each a fresh beer, Loki nods, "Yes, my liege." And you laugh again at his deference to your implied title. "Then let's go!" Impatiently you stride back to the waiting crowd of friends singing and partying the night away.

The night passes in a blur of dancing, drinks and laughter. Everyone gets a kick out of you as Loki. You play up the role, ordering people to kneel like he would usually do, cracking sarcastic comments and snide remarks with regularity. You're overconfident and you're high on the bossy bitch this get up brings out in you.

"Kitten, grab me another, will you?" Rubbing under his chin like you'd do to a real little black kitty cat, you stroke one of Loki's velvet ears sweetly before brushing a kiss over his lips. He moans softly at your gentle petting and murmurs, "I think this kitten is ready to call it a night, darling."

You catch his eye and see what he's really saying. It's bedtime, not lights out, something that causes a blush to rise over you. Swaying away from Loki you tease, "You got it, cool cat."

Goodbyes take forever because all of you are well over the tipsy line. Wanda squeezes you for five minutes, unwilling to part from you, trying to tell you a story that she swears is hilarious but you just can't seem to follow. Tony tries to steal your crown but you wrestle it away just in time, blocking Steve from snatching it back again. You wave at Natasha but she's got Bucky pinned under her on the sofa, his orange top hat perched on her head and his hands on her ass.

Loki was waiting for you at the elevator, doors open. "How did you leave everybody?"

"Natasha and Bucky are totally hooking up tonight!" It spilled out of you with a drunken laugh as you stepped inside the mirrored moving cube. Pushing the down button with a skeptical smile Loki asked, "Really? Any other odd couples come out your costume convention?"

Suddenly serious, you step into Loki's space saying, "I'm going home with a black cat. That's fairly odd, since, ya know... I'm allergic to cats."

"I promise you, this tom cat is hypoallergenic. No mangy fur... no troublesome litter box." Boxing Loki against the reflective wall, your eyes lock on his ice blue ones, "And is he well behaved? I don't want a naughty kitty in my bed."

Swallowing thickly, Loki husked, "Maybe just a little." You pushed your body into his, collapsing the space between you, kissing along his throat. Loki lifted his chin with a hungry moan as you nipped his Adam's apple, leaving your mark on his pale skin. Grazing your lips over his strong jaw you make sure to pay extra attention to that sensitive spot just under his ear, where tendon and muscle meet.

"Good kitty." Your whispered praise makes Loki blush faintly, his trousers tighter now, as his body responds to your devious teasing. Pushing away from him when the elevator dings, you clasp his hand and drag an excited Loki into the night air.

With your heavy boots and swirling cape it seems like your stride has widened. There's a power in you that dressing like The Trickster has released and it made you feel other wordly. If you were behaving like your god, cocksure and dominate, then Loki was a mewling furball right now, content to be led wherever you went. You lace your hand to Loki's and start steering you both through the neighborhood, back to your home.

It takes a little bit longer than normal as the streets are full of Halloween party people enjoying the chance to be different for a night. You have your keys ready so it takes no time to slip it into your lock. As you bend over, ready to turn the knob, you feel Loki at your back. His strong hands roam over your hips tugging you into his hard, honed body.

"Uh uh little kitten. It's not time to play just yet." You admonish him while forcing him to release you. "Darling!" It was a whine. You'd never heard Loki beg before and the sound of it made your core clench, unchecked excitement coursing through you. Stepping inside, finally, you didn't pause for a drink or a trip to the ladies room. No, you stomped right into your bedroom, Loki in tow.

There's a moment right before snowflakes start their fall when all the world waits in quiet silence for the flurry to begin. A beat, maybe two, where the balance of nature breathes before being tipped one way or another.

This night, when you faced Loki across your soft carpeted floor, dressed in a replica of his armor, you felt that peaceful pause. Loki stood beside your closed door, eyes snapping with unreleased heat, looking sweet as homemade sin, in that black double breasted suit with pointed pussy cat ears and a hungry grin.

To him you looked like a vision come to life. Where Loki was long and angled hidden in that leather and steel, you were curvy and soft. The corseted costume accentuating your bust, those tall boots lengthening your legs, even the helmet looked sexy and dangerous framing your sweet face.

"Loki..." Reaching out a hand to him, you felt the world tip into frenzy as the flurry started.

It took him two steps to reach you. One hand wrapped around your waist, tucking you into Loki's side, the other curled around your neck, supporting it, as your mouths met. Feasting on your lips like a starving man, Loki deepened the kiss when he buried his hand in your hair and pulled your head back firmly. You felt his other hand brush over your ass cheek before Loki squeezed down hard.

Moaning, "Loki... Loki..." you were being driven out of your mind by his talented tongue. His hand followed the hem of your skirt and you moaned when you felt Loki's fingers slide under the elastic leg of your panties.

Placing a flat palm against Loki's chest, you push away from his embrace. He lunges for you once more but you wiggle free of his grasp, cheeks enflamed and breathing hard. You stop to straighten your helmet before asking, "Little kitten... your goddess has a question for you. Why is no one licking my thighs?"

Loki growls, sounding like an actual rabid animal, as he stalks over to where you're standing by the bed. He shoves you down to the mattress, following you into the soft surface, and kisses you deeply again.

"Be gentle, little kitten..." You teasingly remind the dark prince who is laying between your parted knees. Looking down at you like a cornered mouse, your black cat promises, "You're going to find out that kitties have claws, lovey."

Without pausing, Loki's palms push roughly over your long leather boots. You sigh when his rough skin connects with the smooth satin of your inner thighs. He follows the path blazed by his hands with his moving mouth. A lick, teeth tasting, thumbs kneading, trailing closer to your apex, warm and wet and waiting. Loki switches sides, searing his route to your molten core into your memory.

Reaching for him, you run your hands through his long dark locks, fingers connecting with those little furry triangle ears. You groan when Loki yanks down your underpants, pulling them free over your footwear. Echoing your need, Loki chuckles, "Look at this... my queen, wet and writhing before me. Being me for a night did this?"

Eager to get Loki back to business you counter, "Yes... it feels... amazing."

Rich laughter bounces around your bedroom as Loki says, "It certainly does! Listen, I really like this suit, so give me a moment, won't you darling?"

Sitting up on your elbows, cape bunched beneath you, legs open obscenely you stare at Loki, already loosening his tie. "Um... your queen is NOT ok with taking a break. Get over here and finish what you started!"

One arm free from his dark coat, Loki freezes. "To do that I need to be unencumbered by these clothes, my lady."

Huffy now, you grumble something about rotten timing and shimmy your skirt off without leaving the bed. Loki's shirt buttons are abandoned as he watches you, naked below the waist, corset and cape still shrouding you, helmet on but askew. It's ridiculous and righteously sexy.

"I'm just gonna do it myself. Don't worry Loki, I've got it." You move your hand down your soft tummy, closer to your throbbing clit, anticipating the firmness of your arousal.

"Wait! That's not fair!" He has one leg out of his trousers, hopping around, trying to get them off so he can get back to getting you off.

"Fair schmair, kitty cat." Your fingers spread your lower lips, sweetly dipping into your wetness, the friction making you shiver. Loki, naked except for those ears, locked a tight hand over your wrist. "Allow me."

You try to shrug him off but Loki is able to bring your hand to his lips. Slowly he draws those tasty fingers into his warm mouth savoring your flavor. Blue eyes piercing yours, Loki drops your hand, saying "Now... my troublesome little dictator, this kitty thinks you need a tongue bath."

It's your turn to growl. Loki's strong hands fan over your hips, sliding seductively over your legs. You gasped when he jerked your booted knees over his broad shoulders bringing your liquid center closer to his hungry mouth. Exhaling a hot breathe against your aching cunt, Loki chuckled lowly as you thrust forward, searching for his touch.

Your sigh of frustration turned into a squeal of pleasure when Loki licked firmly through your drenched skin. Flicking his tongue over your clit with tiny licks, like a cat lapping at milk, Loki had you near to climax in minutes. His cat ears tickled the rarely touched place where your pelvis meets your thigh, sending shivers through you. With a rough bite to your straining nub, he pulled away. "Loki! Keep going!", you practically shouted.

But you needn't have bothered. Slowly circling your fleshy pearl, Loki drew it between his soft lips, sucking lightly. You bucked against this delicious torment but Loki's grip on you tightened. His thumbs opened your dripping slit, giving him full access to plunder your depths with his articulate fingers.

Rocking your hips against Loki's hand, his mouth still taking nips and nibbles of you, your orgasm gains power. Your breathing catches, happy hums streaming out of you, as your inner walls tighten around Loki's driving digits. "Loki...... I'm going to cum..." It's a warning and a promise.

"Oh, sweetling, let go. Let me feel the power of your pleasure!" When Loki pressed down on your clit while curling his fingers against your velvet walls you lost your battle with control. First your muscles locked together in glorious, bone cracking tension, then you fell apart like a puppet with cut strings.

Loki stroked your silken skin through your climax, easing your body back to earth. Instead of stealing your energy, your release made you want more. Rolling up onto your knees you reach for your little kitten, tangling a hand in his ebony locks, before forcing your lips together.

You rush your hands down Loki's strong core, over the corded muscles of his abdomen, stopping at the heavy length of his cock. Through gritted teeth Loki sighs, "Careful darling."

"Would you be careful, my kitty cat? I don't think so." Sliding your soft palm along his steel length, you add a touch of pressure, and rub your thumb across his glistening head. Stroking Loki, you kiss him again, your tongue working against his mouth to the same rhythm as your hand.

Loki breaks your grip with a strained groan. "Inside you. I have to be inside you.", he whispers as he drops his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes.

Tenderly you sigh, "Fuck, Loki. That's hot."

Smiling broadly, he nods, "I know, Right?"

Before you can respond, Loki's laid himself on your bed, back resting upon the headboard, his erection proud and ready. "Come here!" Patting his lap, excitement evident, he's in a rush for you to join him.

Pausing to unzip the restricting corset you've been in all night, you let it and the satin cape slide off your shoulders but you keep the boots on. Loki's eyes drink in your gorgeous body, his bottom lip held in anticipation. You reach up to remove the paper helmet hugging your brow only to stop when Loki hummed, "Keep it on."

Giggling softly you nod. There's something carnal about your near nudity which makes you feel emboldened. It's that same power you had in Loki's costume, the feeling of infinite possibilities, all uniting for you. The thrill of it makes you slick with need for the wicked man you're straddling between your thighs.

Your pelvis streched over Loki's, his straining cock pressed between your bodies, those large hands of his molded to you hips. Stroking his length once more, you raised up on your knees and guided him into your tunnel. Loki pushed down on your curves, driving himself inside of you with glorious purpose in one stroke.

Stuttering out a curse word, your head fell back, exposing your neck to Loki and his ravishing lips. With his strong arms pulling you tighter, you rolled your being onto his, taking more and more of Loki's body each time.

When his lips found your breast you groaned. Out of instinct you gripped Loki's head and pulled him closer. His hands drifted down your spine, over your ass cheeks, and hugged you tighter than you thought possible. Your nipples were covered in wet kisses, faint impressions of Loki's teeth were red on your skin, and still you wanted more from him.

Grinding together, your sensitive bud rubbing so deliciously against Loki, your body nears the peak of its passion. His grip on you drags you down, harder and harder, spearing your spiral of desire. Your tender walls shudder around the hard heat of his member. "You're going to cum, little one. I can feel it. Please, please cum for me."

The humid breath of his broken whisper in your ear sends your body into bliss. Shuddering around Loki's bones, you hear him grunt and hold your hips wide over his own as he spills his sexual release into your receptive skin. Gripping him hard enough to bruise, you're locked together, sharing a single body... a single breath.

It takes you both a long while before your breathing returns to normal. Never taking his precious blue eyes off of yours, Loki brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I hope my queen is satisfied..." he teases.

"Hmmmmm... yes... yes she is... and my scary black cat?", you ask as you flick one of the flocked ears, now slightly askance. "Oh, he'd purr in pleasure... if that were possible."

Loki stirs inside of you making you jump. "Wait... please. Just a little longer, Loki." You're not ready to let go of his body, his spirit, his heart, just yet. Wrapping your arms across his shoulders, you rest your chin in the crook of Loki's neck and idly play with a lock of his hair.

"Loki?" You murmur, drowsy and still a teeny bit tipsy.

"Yes, darling?" He turns his bright eyes to yours.

"Next year we're going as Westley and Buttercup, from The Princess Bride..." You yawn and slide off Loki's lap, wrapping the comforter around you both.

With a gentle smile, Loki answers, "As you wish, little one."