#Midgardian wear

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT LOKI'S SHOES (ACTUALLY, HIS WHOLE WARDROBE)

Production costs aside, clothes tell the audience about how characters think of themselves.

Loki's shoes in the S2 finale raised a lot eyebrows, but I find them quite fitting: they are comfortable, practical, and most importantly, they are humble. The camera brings this to our attention to communicate his evolution in character.

Loki has always dressed well, often times ostentatiously. Whether he is at war, passing as a Midgardian, or held captive as an Asgardian prisoner, Loki communicates his social class and sense of superiority through clothing. For him, clothing armors his fragile sense of self and against others' opinions of him. He intends to be perceived as deadly charming but ultimately unapproachable.

His attire in the first Thor movie is roughly equal parts green and gold, signifying his royal status. His style is dressed down for his brother's misadventures in Jotenheim, yet overall both silhouettes are lofty, princely, but not hardened or threatening.

In Avengers, Loki's look has more black and leather, with exaggerated emphasis on his shoulders meant to intimidate as he assumes the role of villain. The silhouette is very hard, heavy, and edgy. Gold detailing is prevalent as well. Combined with the goat's helm, this is Loki's most pretentious outfit, which speaks to an undercurrent of low self-esteem and a compulsive need to impress. There's no mistaking he is the main antagonist of the story.

In Thor 2, Loki's attire is similar to Avengers but the overcoat is exchanged for a less bulky version (perhaps conveying he is less guarded now that the effects of the Mind Stone are no longer influencing him). Loki's role likewise pivots from the harsh lines of a villain to the more flexible edges of a reluctant villain-turned-ally. This aligns with his character arc when he protects both Jane and Thor, seemingly sacrificing himself.

In Thor 3, Loki's silhouette is streamlined even further. The overcoat is done away with in favor of what appears to be a leather doublet, pauldrons, and vambraces. Gold accents are minimal. While stylish, Loki's attire is more practical than showy, and his helm serves the dual purpose of protection as well as weaponry. At this point in his arc, Loki has become a full antihero, joining his brother's side in rescuing as many Asgardians as possible, and eventually dying in a vain bid to protect Thor from Thanos.

The TVA does something very fun and interesting in taking away Loki's ability to dress himself. Since Loki cannot use his magic in the TVA, he is forced to wear the same clothing as his captor/advocate, who eventually becomes his best friend and peer.

Perhaps, on a subconscious level, this helped Loki to feel included. We know by his pwn admission that Loki fears being alone and desperately craves a sense of belonging. At the same time, he intentionally dresses to put people at a distance, thereby protecting himself from potential rejection at the cost of isolating himself further.

When Mobius gives him that TVA jacket for the first time, Loki seems uncharacteristically pleased. It is not an attractive jacket by any means, yet he neither scoffs at it nor refuses to wear it. Instead, Loki puts it on and is content when Mobius says it looks "smart" on him. He continues to dress like Mobius and, indeed, mimic some of his mannerisms such as placing his hands on his hips. Without clothing meant to push people away, Loki opens up, has more fun, and makes friends.

Loki's choice of attire as he assumes the mantle of God of Stories (and time) is fascinating. Setting aside the clear design inspiration from the comics, Loki's silhouette is soft, remarkably so. His colors are earthy hues of green, and the only bit of flare are the light gold trimming and crown. The look brings to mind the garb of sages and wise wizards rather than royalty or warriors. He's powerful yet approachable because there is humility in his bearing. And that humility springs from a well of healthy self-worth, self-love, and a deep love for others.

The shoes are not meant to be attractive. They are meant to help him ascend the throne, nothing more.

[donaweasley]

Pale Blue Midnights

Pairing: MCU!Loki x Fem!Reader

Plot:

I, too, did a pollen story! That’s it. That’s the plot! 😆Except that it’s not exactly pollen but something else but ultimately strange flowers are at play. Well, simply put, it’s sm.u.t with a plot.

Warnings: Sm.u.tttttttttttt

Read time: ~32 mins

Enjoy half an hour of pure se.xua.l pleasure with the god of mischief!! 😉😏🫠 MINORS: Don’t you dare peek!! 🤨

“Careful now!” She warned Loki in a low but stern voice. “The last time Banner went on an expedition like this, he accidentally smelled a flower and…”

“And what?” Loki would never admit but he was half scared of even hearing the consequences.

“Well, … let’s just say that Nat and he didn’t get out of the room for three days straight!” She concluded with a chuckle.

Loki’s brows almost touched his hairline at the realisation. A part of him - the wild spirited part - immediately conjured up a forbidden image of himself tangled in sheets with his current mission partner. An image that had often haunted him in the darkness of the nights when his heart was restless or when his body yearned for her. This mischievous side now secretly wished to find an aphrodisiac that would put them in a similar situation.

But the logical side of him was scared to death. He knew that it would not be wise to be trapped in such a situation, not with the woman who trusted him with her life, the woman who addressed him as her BFF - a sweet but woefully distasteful Midgardian vocable, as he liked to put it.

A joke about Romanoff and Banner danced on the tip of his tongue but he dared not utter it lest it should come back and bite him in his royal arse.

Both of them were wearing safety suits, masks, safety goggles and gloves. So, there was almost zero chance of any contact with any toxic organism or pollen. But with ‘Mischief’ being his middle name, who knew what he might land up in!

He decided to divert the topic. “Why are we doing this again?”

“For the same reason we humans have been exploring Mars,” his mission partner answered without looking at him. “And because it’s better than running around and knocking people out or killing them,” she added with a smile. “Sometimes I get so tired of it!”

“Well,” Loki replied with a shrug, “that is the real fun!”

“Hmm,” the woman was deeply engaged in investigating a pale-looking, small blue flower that bloomed in bunches on a small plant.

“Found something interesting?” Loki waddled through the tall grass and weeds to where his partner was.

“Yeah, look at these…” Her attention was still robbed by the flowers. “I think I have seen them somewhere. They look very familiar. But…”

“They look harmless,” Loki extended a hand to examine a flower. The bottom of the pedicle was covered in what looked like tiny hairs that stuck to his glove. He tried to pull the flower off of him with his other hand but they just stuck to the other glove. No matter how hard he jerked his hand, the flower just would not come off.

Giving up with a sigh, he started to remove a glove.

“Don’t!” His teammate warned him once again.

“I am a god! These frail Midgardian things do not affect me.”

Before she could protest, he had already pinched the pedicle. What followed was a hiss, accompanied by a small jump, and a set of bleeding thumb and forefinger. What had appeared to be harmless hair on the stem, turned out to be a wrap of fine thorns.

“Damn!” Loki threw the flower to the ground.

“Damn you, you idiot!” His partner cursed him. “One day you’re going to get yourself killed because of your overconfidence!”

The said god shot her a deathly glare but it went totally ignored as she was busy squeezing the blood out of his wound.

“Do you feel anything pricking inside?” She asked. Concern veiled her face and wrapped itself around her throat.

It was her softness, her caring nature that always knocked the wind out of him. And it did so again. Loki whispered a soft ‘No’ as his eyes fixated on her countenance and her actions.

“Are you sure? Don’t hide your discomfort behind your ego.” A panicked (Y/N) pulled her mask down, and raised his fingers to her lips to gently suck the blood from the cuts one by one.

A shudder trembled down Loki’s body. Thankfully, she was too busy worrying about him to notice his wide eyes, dilated pupils and flushed face.

With a sudden jerk, Loki pulled his hand away from her. “I’m fine,” he huffed.

“Well, there is nothing to be disgusted about. The saliva kills any germs that might be lingering on your cut.” Though she narrowed her eyes in mock anger she certainly sounded hurt.

“I never said it was disgusting!” He protested.

“But your action said so!”

“I pulled away because-” How could Loki explain that he had to pull his hand away because her actions were doing unspeakable things to him!

With a frown, she silently waited for an explanation.

“Because I did not want you to accidentally swallow any poison or anything,” he concluded in a tone that was much softer than where he had left.

This time, it was her turn to feel butterflies in her stomach. Pushing all rosy thoughts down because c’mon!, the charming god of mischief could never like her back, she pulled her mask up along with her professional demeanour.

“Let’s finish this before you get yourself into more trouble,” she mumbled, and continued down the trail that they had taken before the blue flowers so temptingly distracted them.

—-

Loki woke up in the middle of the night to find himself covered in sweat, with his heart beating thunderously. At first he feared that it might be the effects of the flower that had pierced its thorns in him not many hours ago. But as the fog of sleep gradually evaporated, the reason became embarrassingly clear to him.

It was not any fever or infection that woke him up. The indecent scene that had popped up in his mind during the expedition, regarding his teammate, had morphed itself into a vivid dream, and had engulfed all his senses.

They were in the midst of a meadow. And while he knew that they should have been busy examining flowers, they were far, far from it. Pale blue flowers surrounded them, as if witnessing and spurring them on. And them?

Well, Loki was lying on the moist grass, the soft sun caressing the pale, sweat-glistened skin of his naked back. His mouth was busy sucking the slender neck of his teammate who was writhing beneath him in a stark state of nature, while his hands pinned her arms down to the ground.

Her bare legs had wrapped themselves around his own as he kept on rubbing himself against her plush wet folds, trying to find his release and hers. Their moans echoed in the trees encircling the meadow. The sky watched as he flipped them over. The wind tickled their aroused skins as she sat atop him like a queen perched atop her throne, and looked into his eyes like a huntress staring down at her prey. Loki’s throat went dry when she brought his hands up to her breasts. And when she started moving her hips - oh, the way she moved, like a dancer with a murderous intent - the grunt that left the sorcerer’s throat told the entire world of his pleasures…

These kinds of dreams about her weren't new to him, true, but this one was so detailed and realistic that he still could not wrap his head around what he saw. He had no idea his mind had the capability of conjuring up such a thing.

After helping himself to some water and breathing deeply to calm his nerves, the sorcerer laid down to try and get some sleep. But glimpses from his recent virtual activity kept flashing before him until he could fall asleep again, and then taunted him a little more after that, too.

—-

The next morning, after the entire team had almost finished their breakfast, (Y/N) pulled Wanda to a corner.

Hesitation was etched on her face as she fidgeted with the edges of her phone and looked around nervously.

After a little nudge of encouragement from the redhead, she finally asked but with a shaky voice, "Have you…have you ever had…uhm…dirt- uhm… indecent dreams about your…your coworker?"

Wanda's eyes widened at the question and a slender hand flew to her mouth to cover the prominent O and the giggle that was about to follow.

"Why, who did you dream about?"

Before the other person could answer, another woman slid into the conversation.

"Loki," Natasha confidently threw her answer to the duo.

"Shhh! Shh!" A panicked (Y/N) tried to keep things down.

Wanda's eyes became wider, if that was even possible. "And how do you know?"

"She has been fumbling and stammering around him since this morning. At first I thought it was her usual crush thing but heightened. But then I heard this question, and everything just…clicked!" She snapped her fingers and winked.

“I don’t have a crush on him!” (Y/N) protested in a hushed voice.

“You do!”

“You do!”

Both her friends opposed simultaneously.

Defeated, she hid her face in her hands, and mumbled almost incoherently, “Am I that obvious?”

“Well,” Natasha began, “your state of heart is as clear as a dazzling day to everyone in the compound.”

(Y/N) groaned.

“But not to Loki,” the spy added.

This made the former peek through her fingers.

“Yeah,” Wanda chimed in, “he’s a bit thick in the matters of the heart.”

“So, you’re saying he doesn’t know yet?” (Y/N) sat up straight.

Seeing her spirits, Romanoff rolled her eyes while a little red glow sizzled on Wanda’s fingertips. “Well, I can change that,” she lifted her hand and swirled her fingers.

“Or maybe,” Natasha joined, “I can go up to him and tell him everything to his face.”

“No!”

“Then tell him yourself.”

“No!”

“Coward!”

“M not!”

“Whatever! Just tell us about this “indecent” dream you saw, and we'll try not to pester you,” Nat tried a bargain.

"And that's why I did not want to tell you!" (Y/N) whisper-shouted.

“All the details, please!” Wanda’s face broke into a wide grin.

—

It took her more than just words to shake her friends off. They were having more fun watching her drown in sheer embarrassment than they were interested in listening to her story. In the end, however, she succeeded in keeping her secret to herself.

Grinning to herself, she was walking back to her room when she almost collided with someone. She did not need to look up to see who the tall person was. His scent engulfed her. As soon as it hit her nostrils, the air around her seemed to change into a feverish smoke.

“Sorry!” A sheepish smile was all that she could afford.

“It is alright. I was not looking either,” the (in)famous SilverTongue stammered through his words.

One look at her brought back all the scenes from his latest dream in technicolour, and he had to cough the awkwardness down his throat. It was only after his discomfort subsided that he noticed the red cheeks and ears of the other person.

“Are you feeling unwell?” His eyebrows knit together.

“What?”

“You look…flushed!...Do you have a fever?” Loki placed the back of his hand to her forehead.

Only the heavens knew the strength it took her to suppress the moan that threatened to escape her! Closing her eyes, she bit her lips to forbid any sound from escaping her.

Little did she know that this struggle of hers was making things difficult for the person in front of her. Loki removed his hand quicker than he had planned.

“You should… you should get yourself checked,” he advised. “Who knows what bug you might have caught yesterday.”

“I’m fine, really,” she cleared her throat. “Just… could not sleep well. I think I shall take a nap. Should be feeling fine by evening!”

Loki hummed in agreement.

“Are you well?” She asked after some hesitation.

“Yes! Why do you ask?”

“Well, you look… how do I put it? It’s as if some thought has been consuming you. You’re not your usual confident, mischievous self today. You okay?”

The trickster was surprised at how well she could read him. Almost choking with joy, he nodded, “I am fine. There is something going on in my head, yes. But it is nothing to worry about.”

“Good. Well then, I shall go get some rest.”

With a smile, they went their separate ways, each grinning like an idiot and praying that the other person does not know about it.

—-

Y/N was sitting by the window, reading a book when the knock on her door startled her. Keeping the book on the nearest table, she almost jogged towards the door to open it. On the other side stood her favourite teammate - the raven-haired god from outer space.

“Wanda told me everything,” he declared in a deep baritone. “Romanoff told me about the dreams you are having. Tell me,” he took two steps inside, making a stunned Y/N walk backwards, “do you dream about me often? Hmm? This innocent face of yours… these naive-looking eyes of yours… Oh! And all the dirty thoughts they carry! Tell me, pet, do you often fantasise filthy things about me?”

He had already won the game when he started speaking in that rich voice. And when he called her “pet”, she could not help but clench her muscles  and rub her thighs together.

Loki did not fail to notice that. When she did not respond but simply stared at him open-mouthed, he slowly nudged her chin to close her mouth, only to tantalisingly swipe his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Do you?” This time, his question was breathed upon her mouth.

“No!” She managed to croak.

Loki narrowed his eyes towards her, as though disbelieving her. It worked, for the truth spurted out of her in the form of a whimper.

“Yes.”

“Yes?* He asked again like a big cat playing its last game with its prey.

“Yes!” She breathed.

“Oh my poor little darling!” Loki purred. “You should have told me sooner. I would have loved to end your misery!”

With these words, he bent down to suck the side of her neck and mark her. When he released the bruised skin, his lips followed the trail of her jawline until they reached her chin. Taking it gently between his teeth for a while, he licked a long stripe from the hollow of her neck up to her panting lips.

“Do you touch yourself when you think of me?” His hot breath on her earlobes seemed to take the life out of her.

She did not want to reveal her secrets before him and yet her hazy mind kept betraying her.

“Yes!” She confessed.

“Mmh! Had thought so!” He growled. “Show me!”

“I-I… no… No, I can't!” Her face went beet red.

“Well then… I shall find out for myself. Do you touch yourself here?”

His long fingers found their way beneath the hem of her shorts to her inner thighs. There, they brushed the skin very lightly, stoking the fire within her core.

“Or is it here?” His fingers trailed upwards. 

“Here?” His slender, sinful fingers skimmed the surface of her bare mound while carefully avoiding the very spot that had her squirming.

“Loki!!” Her whimper was met with a triumphant smirk.

“What? I am only trying to find out where you touch yourself. Am I not on the right path?”

“Please!!” Damn! She was begging, against all the protests of her now-moderately sane mind.

“‘Please’ what, pet?” His lips were brushing the shell of her ear. “Tell me what you want from me. I am a benevolent god. I shall not deny you of your pleas. Not when you squirm and beg like that!”

Her tongue tried to hold itself but her body was on fire. It was only by giving in that she could find release from this torment.

She screwed her eyes shut. “Please touch me, Loki!”

“Well, I am touching you.” Loki continued his sweet, smooth torture. “Is there anywhere specific that you want me to touch, darling?”

Damn this god of being an asshole!!!

This time she looked up in his eyes, and spoke with a lewd confidence, “Touch my cunt, Loki. Make me cum.”

The growl that escaped him was enough to take her to the peak. As nimble fingers entered her, the god’s eye became hooded and his mouth parted, releasing a sigh that landed on her mouth, only to be chased by his hungry lips on them.

They buried their moans in the other's mouth. When Loki pushed her against the nearest wall, she tried to pull him closer. But Loki freed himself out of her hold. Worried, she opened her eyes to find the god slowly kneeling before her. Staring deep into her eyes, he pulled her shorts down with him. And when his knees landed on the floor, so did her shorts.

Sitting face-to-face with her dripping folds, he gently stroked his fingers along the length of her left thigh, all the way down to her calf. Slowly, he picked the leg up, and put it on his shoulder. Licking his lips in the most sultry way she could have imagined, he buried his face between her legs.

The delightful scream that forced itself out her throat was probably heard by all inmates of the compound. But that did not stop Loki from exploring every corner of his delicious treasure.

A loud knock on her door made her spring out of the moment.

“Maybe they did hear my scream,” she thought “Shit! But wait…what…the fuck?”

Loki was nowhere around. She was lying on the bed, her side-pillow tucked in tight between her legs.

So, was that all…another dream?

The knock on the door had now transformed into banging.

“Are you alright in there?” It was Steve’s voice. “Why did you scream?”

So, I had actually screamed while dreaming?? Shit! Fucking shit!!

“(Y/N), I’m going to come inside.” Steve was absolutely worried!

No no no!! He cannot see me in this mess! I shan’t be able to face anyone again!

“I’m fine, Steve!” She shouted back. “I…uh…I thought I saw a spider, and I screamed. It was only a small bug.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Absolutely fine! Just got a silly little scare.” She forced a laugh.

“Fine then. I’m gonna…go” Steve sighed in relief although his words sounded hesitant.

“Yup! See you later!”

When she was sure she heard the captain walk away, she let out a long breath.

“Fuck! What the hell is happening? Why do I-”

Realisation hit her like a brick. It had all begun after their return from the plant-hunt.

“Those blue flowers…d-did they really affect me? … Did they affect Loki? He was the one who was actually pricked!” The scenes from that fateful day kept unfolding in her mind. “Damn! Is that why he has been behaving awkwardly? ... But wait, if this flower is indeed an aphrodisiac, why am I having troubles only around Loki? Is it because I like him or…is it because we were both affected by the same flower? Fuck! I must find out.”

—-

At dinner, (Y/N) observed Loki closely. Well, she had always “observed” him rather closely but this time it was more like analysing a target. She realised that he was fine with the rest of the team - even with the other women - but when around her, he fidgeted a lot. Even his glances towards her were hesitant. And yes! He did avoid physical contact - even the slightest possible brush of their little fingers.

There was definitely something going on.

“Sam,” her sudden approach startled the soldier who was busy looking for dessert in the fridge. “Hold my hand.”

“What?”

“Hold my hand!”

“But why?” He looked at her as if she had grown two heads.

“Just … I need to test a theory.”

A smirk surfaced on his mouth. “I knew you’d warm up to me one day.”

But the glare that he received for an answer made him quickly take his words back. “Just kidding! You know that well, don’t you!”

Sam curled his fingers gently around her extended arm.

“What now?” He asked curiously.

Eyebrows knit together, her eyes darted across the tiled floor, trying hard to gauge her body’s reaction. Nothing; she felt nothing.

Pursing her lips, she hummed. “Well, thank you, Sam!” With a pat on his upper arm, she walked off, leaving the man a handful of questions in his mind.

So, her theory was correct: it was only Loki who was affecting her. And apparently, it was only her affecting the god. She had been training with others; she felt nothing. Loki had been training with everyone else with ease. But when they were paired together, the air that they breathed seemed to turn into an erotic enchantment. The discomfort was evident on both their faces. So much that neither could focus during the session, thus resulting in a quick end to their sparring.

Once everyone had started retiring for the day, she decided to put her plan into action. She had wanted to stay behind or follow Loki down whichever corridor or floor he took; whatever it took to find him alone and confront him.

It had almost worked. Almost. But with Steve in the middle of a serious conversation with her, all she could do was watch out of the corner of her eye as the trickster walked out of the sitting area. Now, had it been anybody else, she could have excused herself without a second thought; she would have amended for it later. But this man - the captain - held an entirely different zone of respect in her heart. Never in her life could she interrupt him.

Luckily for her, the conversation ended soon enough - just in time for her to jog down the corridor where Loki resided but only to catch a glimpse of him as he disappeared into his room.

Damn!

But she had enough! She must know!

Cursing under her breath, she marched determinedly up to his doorstep.

But that was it.

That was where her confidence melted into a puddle. This was not any man that she had to talk to. This wasn’t Bruce or Tony with whom she could discuss the most embarrassing subject and yet turn everything into logic and science. No! This was the biggest crush of her life, staggering on the verge of becoming - perhaps - the love of her life! And she was going to ask him if he has been having filthy dreams about her just as she has been having about him! Could it be any more complicated!!

Fiddling with her fingers, she stood for a while in front of the closed door, replaying the plan over and over again in her head.

Okay. This is it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to ask him, and I’m going to solve this mystery once and for-

The door swung open before she could even tap on it! Loki stood at the other end with his brows scrunched up.

Her first instinct was to run. But she stood her ground. Afterall, she had some self-respect, right?

“You have been standing there for quite some time now,” Loki stated but it sounded more like a question.

“Well, I… I was…just passing by.” That weird, sheepish smile appeared on her face again.

Loki sighed. “First, they call me the God of Lies for a reason. And second, your feet are eclipsing the light from the corridor thus making them clearly visible under the door.”

Hanging her head low, she let out a long sigh. “You got me!”

If only she had seen the smile that broke out on Loki’s divine countenance. Or maybe it was good that she had not, for it might have increased her desires even more. They had already started weaving themselves in every cell of her body as soon as her eyes had landed on the god.

“Now, will you tell me what is going on or should I read your mind?” Loki urged.

She was surprised by his confidence! He sounded nothing like the person who had returned with her from the expedition.

Has the affects of the flower worn off of him?

“Loki, I need your help!” She tried to hold his hand in desperation, only to find her own pass through thin air with a green glimmer.

Her plan was to check Loki’s pulse in the guise of holding his hand for help. Had his heart rate been abnormally high, she would have asserted her doubts, and would have straightforwardly asked him if he had been having weird dreams.

What she never expected was to be met with an illusion. The Loki at the door now frowned in worry as she looked up at him in confusion.

Why would Loki create an illusion for talking to me? Why- Wait…

As she walked right through the facade, she saw it all evaporating, eventually revealing the real Loki who was standing near his writing desk. Distress was clearly written on his face. He looked so helpless that all plans and plots vanished from her mind. Her answer was right in front of her. She did not need to play games now.

“You should not be here.” There was an earnest plea in his eyes. “Please, leave!”

The sight of Loki leaning against his writing desk - fingers clenched on the wood so hard that it looked like the desk was going to split in two, face partially covered by hair that was dishevelled from running his hands through it, partially unbuttoned shirt, half-opened mouth and glazed eyes - made her visibly shudder from the electricity coursing through her veins. But that did not keep his desperate words - words which were more like a warning - from reaching her senses. It turned her on and yet worried her.

“Loki, you do not look good. You-you look like you’re in…pain!”

“I told you…” the god’s voice was more strained than before, “you…should not…be here!”

She took two careful steps forward. To avoid anybody else from accidentally walking in, she had softly closed the door behind her. They needed to sort this out between themselves first.

“Loki,” she called soothingly, “if this is about the flower, … you can tell me. … If it helps to know, I…I was…I am…affected by it, too!

The Asgardian’s eyes widened. He swiftly advanced towards her - well, almost did - but quickly retreated back to his safe circle.

“So, you must be-”

“In pain?” She did not let Loki finish his sentence. “Yes! Very much!”

“And,” he continued, “have you done anything to…get rid of it? Or-or soothe it?”

She shook her head slightly. “No.”

A nod, slight for most people to notice, accompanied a whisper of a breath released by Loki.

“And … you are dreaming of…?”

For a short while his question floated between them, searching for an answer. She looked deep into his eyes. Pleadingly. Hoping that he would understand what her tongue was too ashamed to confess.

He probably did. He looked like he did. But he needed assurance, for it seemed too far-fetched for even him to believe that his fantasies could come true in such a miraculous way! He could not be so lucky, could he?

When Loki did not say anything, she decided to say it aloud, all shame be stripped aside.

“You!” She declared. “It is you that I dream of, Loki!”

It took him all his godly strength to hold himself back. But he knew that his resistance was thinning out. The enhanced effects of the flower, her presence in the closed space, and now her confession - everything was making things all the more difficult for him.

“I’m burning for you, Loki!”

And indeed she was! All the things that were triggering the powerful god were affecting this human as well.

Loki inhaled deeply, only to be engulfed in her scent even more.

“I am sorry!” Her lips trembled. Her eyes betrayed her resilience with the first wave of tears. “I know this is all very embarrassing for you. I … I swear, Loki, I never wanted it to be this way! I-”

“I never wanted it to be this way either,” Loki’s words crushed her. Of course, he would never want anything to do with her, not even what could have been a shadow of a romance!

“I had wanted this to be very special,” he continued. “I had wanted to do it right. To court you first, to woo you, to steal a kiss or two from you, and then … and then make you mine.”

His voice was strained, just like before. But his eyes were feral now.

Damn, they scorched her! Loki’s words were killing her!! But her lust-driven-yet-dejected mind could not wrap itself around them. None of it made sense. Why would Loki want to court her, kiss her … “make her his” … ? Unless …

Oh!

The realisation left her shocked and elated at the same time. But she needed enough proof to believe it.

“Are you- What are you saying? Why would you- Loki, I think this is not you but the effect of the flower speaking.”

The god laughed. “‘Effect of the flower’? Darling, I have been having all kinds of thoughts about you for years now! Thoughts that would warm your chest with love. Thoughts that would make you blush crimson! … That wretched flower has only heightened it all And made it unbearable!!”

It was all too much to take in. Her state of disarray - limp shoulders, wide eyes and a half-open mouth - told Loki that she had not yet grasped the entirety of the situation.

“Oh darling,” he spoke with hope in his eyes and joy on his lips, “you do not yet know what the flower was, do you?”

She shook her head in a daze.

“It is called ‘Midnight’s Bane’. Or ‘Boon’, as some like to call it. I found out about it in one of our old books from Asgard.” He took a few slow, deliberate steps towards her as he spoke. “It has some … medicinal uses. But it is famous as a catalyst for … midnight’s activities, if you know what I mean.” The smirk that he wore would have made even an unaffected person’s knees go weak. “It does not make two people fall in love, no! The flower simply increases what one already feels for someone. … And if you are dreaming about me, if you want me just the way I want you, then it can mean only one thing.” Loki placed a gentle hand on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered in response. “That you love me … just the way I love you.”

She did not need further convincing. In one swift motion her lips were on his. Her arms had wound themselves around his neck, pulling him as close as possible.

The dam finally broke.

Loki held her face with both hands, greedily devouring every moan and whimper. In the miniscule break that they took to breathe again, they drank in the sight before them, further intoxicating themselves. (Y/N)’s finger’s began making quick work of the remaining closed buttons on Loki’s shirt. But he was impatient. Removing her hold on them, he pulled the cloth over his head.

If it was humanly possible to be more aroused, (Y/N) certainly had hit the next level. Placing a quick but deep kiss on her open mouth, Loki tugged at the hem of her blouse. The lifting of her arms over her head was permission enough for Loki to pull it up and discard it on the floor.

How and when the rest of the clothes got scattered around the room remained a haze. All they remembered later was that it was somewhere between heated kisses and lots of shameless touching.

Loki picked her up by the hips, and sat her on the writing desk. She probably landed on an old open hardbound. Neither cared.

While his mouth worked on her neck and shoulders, eliciting hisses and moans from her, his large hands travelled down her body, taking note of every curve and plateau, until he reached her thighs. There, they rested for a brief moment, kneading the satiny skin beneath his palms, before venturing towards the soft flesh on the inner side. Very slowly, he parted her legs open, and stepped inside. Her immediate reaction was to wrap them around his slender waist. With her bare heels pressing on his bare butts, she nudged him forward until his arousal was pressed against hers.

Both of them groaned loudly. With hooded eyes they looked at each other, trying to seek the obvious consent that had been there right from the beginning. When her hand wrapped around his length to line him up with herself, he almost swooned.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her.

“I know, and I don’t care. Just take me, Loki! Please! Make me yours.”

He could have come right then simply from her words. With one hand on her back, and the other holding himself, he entered her slowly, passing carefully through the tight wetness.

Loki was aroused like never before, ready to devour the woman sitting brazenly naked in front of him - the love of his life -  and yet, a part of him could never forget to take care of her, to worry about her.

When he had buried himself fully within her, they both rested their heads on the other’s shoulder for a brief moment. It was an outworldly feeling - it seemed like the perfect end to all those years of pining, like the perfect beginning to their story of being together. It felt like the perfect cure to all the burning desire that they had been enduring for the past few days. Most importantly, it felt right. It had never and would have never felt so perfect with anybody else.

(Y/N) patted his backside lightly. As if afraid that he’d hurt her, Loki started moving slowly, carefully. The pace was sensual, romantic but excruciating as well! The drug running in their veins demanded more. Their bodies demanded more.

“Loki, please!”

She did not know what she was asking for but he understood. Steadily but quickly, he accelerated, earning himself sultry moans and breathy chants of his name as rewards. She felt like her body would have given away had Loki’s strong arms not been holding her.

“Oh (Y/N)!”

Hymns of each other’s names and repeated confessions of love brought them closer to release. When his movements started getting sloppy, he reached between  them and placed his thumb on her bundle of nerves. When she cried out and her back arched,he whispered with hot breaths in her ear, “Come with me, love. Please.”

It might have been his ministrations down south on her body or it may have been the way he rasped the word “please”. Some magic worked, and she came crashing down on him, flooding him, drowning him in her ecstasy. That was the final tug on the restraint that Loki had put on himself. He came inside her with a loud moan of her name, surrendering himself to his lust completely.

Thanks to the desk, Loki found some support for his limp body. As they rested on one another and kissed each other feebly, having experienced the most epic orgasms of their lives yet, she eventually came to realise what she had been sitting on. She tried to look but with Loki still buried inside her, it was impossible.

“I think I’m sitting on a book,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Oh?”

The moment he pulled out of her, she whined at the sudden emptiness inside.

Loki laughed. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am done with you, love! Give me a few minutes, and I shall fill you up again.”

The filthy look in his eyes, the promise in his voice, and his tender dominance made her walls flutter that very instant. Loki grabbed her butts and lifted her off the desk, while she wrapped her limbs securely around him.

As he carried her to the bed, his eyes landed on the tattered and soaked pages of the book that she had been sitting on. Pausing in his tracks, he tilted his head and smirked.

“What is it?” She asked curiously.

Following his eyes, she found the poor book - an open testament to their raunchy activities - and clicked her tongue.

“Can you fix it?” She looked back at him.

Stealing one look at her, as though accepting her simple challenge, he held her securely with one arm, and extended the other towards the book, reverting its fate with a subtle move of his open fingers. Once the pages were crisp and readable again, (Y/N) understood the cause of his amusement.

Staring back at them from the pages was a hand-drawn picture of the same flower that caused all these “fateful” events. Her eyes swept through the descriptions about the flower.

“Pale Blue Midnight’s Bane”, the title read. In smaller words, it added, “ Also known as Midnight’s Boon”.

Loki chuckled. “We gave the flower what it wanted. Literally.”

It made her laugh. “Well, at least it put an end to years of misery! We should be thanking it.”

“In a way that it likes?” Mischief was sparkling in Loki’s green eyes.

“Exactly my thoughts!” She resonated.

Loki was not gentle this time as he threw her on the bed and hungrily watched her curves jiggle. She was surprised to find that she rather enjoyed being manhandled by the trickster. He hovered over her like a hunter over his prey, and started his assault on her chest.

“Loki?”

“Mmh?” His mouth was full and his tongue busy.

“Shouldn’t we inform Banner about our discovery?”

“Later,” he exhaled right before shutting her up for the moment with a long and deep kiss that made both their heads spin.

***

Taglist!

@huntress-artemis @evelyn-kingsley @dryyoursaltyoceantears @modestlyabsurd @anukulee @eleniblue @foxherder @thesevendeadlycringes @mysterydiz @lloydmustache

[lokisgoodgirl]

Slower [Loki x f.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki strips it all off. Slowly. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language. Established relationship. A/N: Some lines taken from my drabble New Lingerie

You sat perched on the edge of Loki’s bed, poised as the heavy footsteps grew closer. Each leathered thud ricocheted around the high hallway ceiling.

He was coming. Coming to you. Coming for you.

And he was almost here.

Your back straightened, feeling the cut of the corset tight to your chest. Fingers widened against the cotton sheets, material melting into every ridge. The main apartment door flew open somewhere beyond, slamming shut immediately.

Just a few more steps. Thud. The thunder in your chest was deafening. Your body a pulsing, adrenaline-soaked vessel dripping and trembling with unspent desire.

The doorknob turned. And in a moment of eerie quiet, the door swung open. Slowly. Loki-the-Warrior filled the frame. The silhouette of his huge body against the hallway light, haloed against the inconsequential outside world.

He was a heaving, smouldering, mission-soaked mass.

Narrowed eyes peered up beneath thick brows, the alignment of his nose and lips and chin to his chest making arousal seep deeper into your flimsy gusset.

Loose hair fell in waves around his shoulders, the cape settling in swinging folds by his calves. He had been expecting you, it seemed. You swallowed, watching the twitch of his lip curl into a solitary, mirthless dimple.

"What in the Nine...are you wearing?" he snarled. Embers of the fresh fight pulsed in his glare as he paused. It hit it like a punch.

Loki's forearm propped on the doorframe. A cool draft tickled your skin. You hadn’t realised how warm it was in here.

"Do you like it?" you purred nervously, uncrossing and re-crossing your legs. The silk chiffon of your stockings slid together as Loki’s lips pursed. He tilted his head, throat working.

You could see cogs turning as he ran his eyes over the boned corset clinging to your body, over the lines of your suspender belt strapped tight to supple flesh.

A finger ran lightly down your thigh, slipping one beneath a string. “It’s called lingerie,” you said, inspecting before releasing the suspender with a snap. His eyebrows rose, a low chuckle forming before he shook his head.

"Never before have I seen you so,” he paused with mild disdain, running the icy stare to the tips of your toes back to your face, “hidden... on my return.”

The velvet voice was tinged with suspicion as he flicked a hand by his side, making the leather cape swing as he paced slowly toward you. Each stride, measured. “Although I shall admit, it... stirs something deep within me.”

He came to stop at eye level, his stomach inches from your parted lips.

Loki’s voice was heavy, thick with the day’s trials and the beating drum of his baser needs which demanded attention as they always did. "Was that your plot?” he smouldered, “to stir something within me, little fox?"

The god’s cock was hardening visibly beneath his trousers as he spoke, creases forming as the ancient material relented to the power beneath. It grew upward against his hip, shameless and ready. He was always ready.

"It's crotchless?" you offered meekly, fastening your lips to the bulge in front of you. You sucked the leather, making your god release a guttural growl. The heat from your breath misted, wetness forming. A shallow groan floated down as his knees buckled. Just a bit. "Midgardians..." he murmured incredulously, his fingers smoothing the back of your head, pressing your closer. "Mmm, whatever will you think of next?" His hands moved down the curve of your neck, cupping your shoulders before pushing you back from his crotch.

You looked up into his darkened eyes, every inch his willing whore. Loki let out a sigh as his fingertips trailed lazily over the swell of your cleavage, eyes following every small indentation they made. He grunted, hips squeezing forwards as if fighting himself.

“And what is the male equivalent in this realm for this type of garment?” he purred, sentimentality returning to his voice as his walls lowered. "Surely there must be one." You uncrossed your legs, widening your thighs and pulled his tunic closer. Craning up at this angle you could see the faintly smeared signs of battle coating his throat. Thin trails of clean skin through dried sweat down the hard vein of his neck. “Some say suits,” you husked. “But I say... leather.” Loki’s breath hitched, choking back a laugh. “You cannot possibly feel the way that I do at this present time whenever you see me in this,” he stuttered, gesturing weakly to himself.

He was staring at your tits, his twitching, pulsing cock pressed against your cleavage. Each desperate rock of his hips made the leather rustle lightly.

Your hands began to run up the back of his thighs beneath the cape. The visceral heat of his skin through the leather made you shudder. Mess slid between your spread thighs against flimsy panties, clenching air as your fingers mapped every curve of his muscles until they met the curve of his ass. The hiss from his gritted teeth as you squeezed, pressing his cock tighter to your chest, was unbearable. “I can,” you panted, “and I do.” Loki let out a strained chuckle. “Oh darling, how awful of me to unknowingly torture you so,” he teased wickedly, spreading his feet wider on the floor. The clunk of his heavy boots was ceremonial. You laughed softly. “You know how incredible you look in your armour. In everything, actually. And nothing.” You looked up at him, feeling unexpected heat creep into your cheeks. “You know it. And I know you know it.” “Well, yes. Quite,” he postured with a smirk before his lips hardened. His eyes suddenly glazed. “But to think of you... a quivering wreck of desire at my mere presence wearing such basic uniform is,” he paused, breaths quick; “arousing in the extreme.” “Nothing about you is basic,” you smiled, squeezing his ass before searching kisses worked over the surface of his tunic. He moaned, as rich and luxe as the sheets beneath your thighs. His ass, the flat of his midriff, it was all so fucking hard. All of him. Loki’s cock twitched. Your nails scratched against the material, pulling him closer. The solid impossibility of him being so close would never be enough. “What do you think of? When you see me in-” He gasped as your teeth grazing against the thick of his shaft through the leather, “-public...in, in this” he finished, one thigh beginning to tremble. You rested your chin on his length, pressing hard as you looked up. “I imagine touching myself,” you enunciated slowly, “it’s all I can do not to do it right there,” You out a soft, calculated moan. Loki released the breath he’d been holding in a short puff, possessive desire burning deep in his eyes as he stared into yours. “And, I imagine you stripping it off,” you continued with a wink.

The god pressed his lips together, a quaking sigh rolling in his throat. That can be arranged, he was about to say. “Slowly, though -” you quipped, quickly leaning back on your elbows against the mattress. Loki frowned. “No magic?”

You shook your head playfully, biting your lip. “And then we make love, yes?” he said, suspicion returning as he took a step back. You nodded, fighting to contain a gleeful smile.

Long, eager fingers flew beneath his left shoulder, tearing at the buckle fastenings beneath.

“Uh-uh,” you chided, drawing your soles over the duvet spread. You widened your legs, letting them fall open. “Slowly, please” you repeated, drawing a lazy finger up the length of your thigh. “Give me a show, Loki of Asgard.” The sultriness of your voice surprised even you as a sigh racked your lover’s torso. There was a beat of resignation, before his shoulders adopted a mouth-watering ceremonial snap. Slowly this time, he reached for the buckle attaching the length of leather cape to his shoulder guard. The soft clunk of metal releasing made you clench. Loki watched the fine leather draping fall away from his shoulder, the angle of his jaw flashing in the low light. Beneath a fan of ebony lashes, he lifted his gaze to you before reaching to the other buckle. Your breath hitched as another beautiful clunk pierced the air like a penny on glass. The mechanism released, the fabric sliding seductively down his arm. The ancient Asgardian leather pooled in a semi-circle by his feet. Silk lining shone invitingly in shadow. “Slow enough for you, my love?” he purred. You nodded, not breaking eye contact as he made a show of pulling each settle of leather from his fingers. The knuckleguards peeled from his skin, falling soundlessly by his feet. “Truly,” he started casually while dexterous digits began to unlace unseen binds on the left side of his torso, “Asgardian tanner workmanship is the finest in all the realms.” The whizz of leather on leather buzzed as a lace was pulled beneath one long finger, loosening the tunic. “I do not appreciate it as much as I should, perhaps.” “I agree,” you murmured seductively, fighting the urge to launch yourself from the bed and fasten to his body like wet paper on a wall. He reached behind his head, tugging the leather vest. It slipped over, before he tossed it to the floor. Loki spread his arms, spinning in a teasing circle. His hair was mussed now, gorgeous tendrils fighting against each other for glory within an onyx crown. With unbearable precision, dancing fingers dislodged the armour from his wrists. They dropped to the floor in quick succession. The god lowered his chin, deep eyes penetrating your soul as he slid two fingers beneath the folds of deep green leather. The arms carried the traditional ceremonial markings of his station, of his power. But what lay beneath the chestplate now resting on the floor was more valuable. More poetic. Despite never being on full show, the body of the under-tunic was a work of art. Each stitch crafted by ancient fingertips in faraway lands, embroidered and infused with spells and primordial rites befitting their ultimate adornment. Him. A sliver of alabaster skin appeared, the valley of sculpted chest muscle you ran your tongue over before you rode him almost every night flashing into view. Each golden button fell away beneath that graceful touch. Another, and another, slowly to the bottom hem. Until only one remained.

Loki toyed with it, running his thumb along the curve which hung just above his naval. You groaned, gripping the bedsheets in a fist. “Whatever is the matter, love?” he teased. “You requested slow, so slow...I shall be.” His eyebrows rose expectantly, daring a response. You couldn’t muster one, as the final button popped between his fingers.

With aching precision, Loki shrugged the leather tunic from his shoulders with a sluttish roll. The tight jacket caught on the curve of his biceps, edging down before dropping to the floor with a thick thump. You moaned again, feeling your resolve weaken. Loki was looking to the floor, hair hanging by his cheekbones. It spread to candlelight-glossed shoulders as he lifted his face, the marble perfection of that bone-structure making you tremble on his bed like a virgin. You would never get used to seeing him undressed. But half-dressed? Somehow, that was even more deadly. His abdominals clenched with each breath, the sharp lines of his obliques cutting and receding. Was he holding back, the way that you were? He was enjoying this, that much was certain. Loki’s manhood still stretched up to his hip, fat and desperate for your touch. You licked your lips, biting gently. The god cocked his head. “Taking off one’s shoes is never an attractive endeavour,” he stated sheepishly, widening his legs. The thick v of his hip muscles flexed. Making use of the pause, you scooted to the side; extending your legs and popping a hand leisurely beneath your head. “Well, how else are you gonna get those tight trousers off, Laufeyson?” you teased. Loki squinted, pursing his lips. “No magic?” he grumbled. “No magic,” you confirmed. Without missing a beat, Loki bunched a scarce inch of leather by his outer thigh in a vice. With a thundering rip, he pulled the ancient leather from his body. The trousers split like tissue paper, cast to the side where they skated theatrically across the floor before scraping to a stop. You stared at them, open-mouthed before sliding back to his waiting smirk.

He gave a small nod of self-satisfied acknowledgement.

A smile stretched across your face, reaching your eyes as his did the same. He gave a light shrug as his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, tugging gently while he stared into your eyes.

“And the boots?” you whispered, voice catching. “Oh no, darling” Loki murmured, his voice thick and heavy with lust. He began to stride the final steps towards you.

“Tonight, the boots stay on.”

Tags (cont in comments)

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [3]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A massive thank you to the amazing @midgardian-witch for being so wonderful and proofreading this nonsense AND for hyping me up AND saving my ass with switching tenses (why am I like this?) Another huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), swearing, oral (f! receiving), Blue being a little shit, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has named Lion.

Word Count: 3329

A Great View of the Hall

This was going to be a problem. 

Scratch that. 

More than a problem.

You stare at the half open garment bag hanging on the back of your door as if your glare could fix a hole in time and space. 

Blue held stupidly lavish events every three months or so, a big excuse to close the club to all save those who were ready to pay big bucks. And boy, were there a lot of clients willing to throw their cash around. 

Shows, and food, and gambling, and drinks, and everything dialed up to fucking eleven. 

All the staff’s outfits were new, usually fitting some theme that Blue had chosen on a whim, and none of the dancers ever got to see what they were going to be wearing until it was literally time to get dressed. Not that that was a problem. That was normal. Routine. The same as always. 

The problem was your outfit. Your dress. It was fucking blue.

There was only one unspoken rule every time he threw these fucking events, and that was that the main stars: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, were the only ones in blue. Not you. 

Gorski must have given you the wrong dress. There must have been some kind of mistake. You shake your head, trying to shake yourself free of the vice like grip of anxiety that was taking hold of your heart. 

Simple fix. Simple. 

You grab the garment bag, zip it back up and leave your small room to find the Madam. She was, unsurprisingly, busy. Helping others fix their costumes, all a dark purple, directing others into position on the floor or stage behind the scenes. The doors had already opened for the ‘exclusive’ guest, the party ramping up into full swing. 

She tuts when she sees you, “What are you doing? You’re not ready?” 

“I was given the wrong dress.” You swallow, seeing some of your fellow back up dancers out of the corner of your eye in their wine purple corsets and short frilly shirts.

Gorski frowns at you, unimpressed. “Not another one.” She mutters under her breath, almost too quiet for you to hear. “Let me see.” 

You hold the bag out to her and she tuts again, not even bothering to open it. “Here,” she flips white paper card tied around the hanger's neck, ‘Lion’. “This one’s yours.” 

“No, it’s-”

“Mr Jones oversaw your clothing. I am not having any more arguments about outfits today.” She says, her voice clipped. She only ever used ‘Mr Jones’ when she was stressed and pissed. She turns to raise her voice curtly to another dancer before looking back at you. “Any other problems?” 

Despite the pause she gave you it was clear she would only accept one answer.

You manage to bite your tongue and shake your head.

“Good.” She dismisses you with a wave of her hand, waiting until you are nearly out of the backstage rooms for her to call after you, “and hurry up!”

. 

The dress is long, almost trailing on the floor, with a slit on the left side that ends just before the fullest part of your hip. There is an ornate chain holding both sides together at your upper thigh, a tiny golden lion dangles from the chain, it’s just enough to keep the dress from exposing you while you walk.  Which is a small blessing as there is no way you can wear any underwear without it being on show. 

You growl deep in your throat, your mind replaying snippets of your last encounter with Blue. His arms around your waist as he practically sobs into your stomach. 

This must be some kind of twisted punishment, a way to put you on show in front of everyone. It wasn’t like you could outwardly disobey him in front of clients and his goons, there was no way you would be able to wrap your fingers around his throat, squeeze, and make him crumble. 

You check your makeup in the small mirror and adjust the dress. It’s a bright, royal blue, with a plunging neckline and small over the shoulder straps. The material is soft, comfortable even. And you hate it. Hate that part of you likes it. Hate that he picked it. 

Hate, hate, hate it. 

At least you could maybe blend in with the ‘stars’, they’d be in the exact same dress and colour. 

. 

Somehow you manage not to scream profanities the second you walk into the club. The music is loud, the stage occupied while others serve drinks to the patrons, seated and watching. There are some talking in booths, girls in their lap pretending to be interested in their conversation, while others gamble with dancers on their arms, egging them on. 

All of them are in the same dark purple. Which isn’t surprising. 

The problem is Trixie, the first star you spot. Her dress is shorter, the neckline a queen ann cut, and the colour is a dark navy. You see Peach next, her dress the same as Trixie, then Songbird and Sweetie Pie. All of them dressed in mirror images of each other. You stand out sorer than a thumb. 

Exactly what you would like to not do. 

The realisation makes you freeze, the anxiety from before growing monstrously and taking root, fixing you to the floor. You’re going to be sick, you’re going to-

“Ah, Lion.” Blue grins wickedly as he snakes his hand around your hip and pulls you close to his side. “I was looking all over for you.” 

You glare at him. If looks could kill he’d already have bullet holes in his chest. 

He chuckles at your stare. “Feisty as ever,” he brushes the tips of his fingers along your jaw, pressing softly against your chin to tilt your head to the side so he can place a soft kiss to your cheek. “Behave.” He whispers, his breath hot against your skin. 

The underlying threat is there, clear as night: or else. 

You plaster the fakest smile on your face, practically a sneer, and his grin widens. 

“Oh, much better Lion, much better.” He nuzzles into your neck for a second, the briefest touch as he breathes deeply and sighs contentedly. 

You stiffen as a flush of heat runs along your skin from where he touched you, racing downwards. 

“Come, I’m just speaking with some old friends,” he guides you to the table, slightly secluded from the main hustle and bustle, but still with a good view of the stage. He keeps his arm around you, his fingers playing with the little lion on the chain.

Somehow you manage to resist the urge to slap his hand away. 

There are three other men seated, two you recognise as regular patrons of the club. Highrollers, dangerous. The third you’re not familiar with, but his suit is sharp and his eyes are vicious. 

To your surprise there are no other dancers at the table, no one doing their best to fawn over any of these men. You swallow, the anxiety sharp as it cuts in deeper. 

Each of them has their own guards, a far distance away but obvious to spot and surely ready to snap into action at a moment's notice. 

This was all very, very not good. 

Still, you manage a polite, and pretend sincere, smile as Blue introduces you to them. Astonishingly, all three stand to greet you, take your hand as you offer it to them (Blue subtly flicks your arm to remind you, whispering a brief ‘manners’ into your ear) and kiss the back of it. 

Blue keeps an oddly reassuring hold on your side, only letting go to push your chair in for you when you sit. The place where his hand rested is oddly cold without his touch. 

He sat as close to you as he physically could, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he continued to talk with the other men. 

After a few minutes his hand began to wander, moving slightly to stroke your upper arm absentmindedly and seemingly not noticing the little shiver that ran through you at his touch. 

You wish you were paying more attention to the conversation going around you, wished you could. 

His touch was more than distracting, maddening. The infuriating way he drags the back of his thumbnail over your skin in a lazy stroke. The stupid little smile that was plastered to his face whenever he nods to the conversation, his eyes glittering. He must know what he’s doing. He had to. 

You gave him little sideways glares, doing your best not to completely scowl at him. Frustration burned hot along your veins and you clenched your hands into fists under the table, pressing them into the edge of your seat. 

A waiter came to deliver fresh drinks, moving quietly and quickly as he places the glasses down in front of Blue and his ‘friends’.

“What do you want, Lion?” Blue’s velvet soft voice caught you irritatingly off guard. He smiled when you didn’t answer straight away, enjoying the little dance of confusion on your face. “To drink?” He leans towards you, still smiling. 

“I…” you swallowed, unsure of how to answer, if this was really some twisted game he was playing. 

His grin widens, seemingly appraising you for a moment before he  looked up to the waiter. “Lion’ll have something sweet, just like she is.” 

You were going to hit him. 

One of the men chuckled, he had dark eyes and a full beard and was sitting directly to your right. “Sweet is she?” He leaned slightly closer to you, placing his elbow on the table. “How sweet?” 

He gave you a sugary smile that perhaps could have been charming in another situation. 

Blue’s gentle touch on your arm tightened, pulling you towards him a fraction. 

The other man chuckled politely at his reaction, “What? You can’t expect me not to want a taste. You’re practically flaunting her to us.” He gestures as he speaks, his hand a hair's breadth away from touching your cheek. 

He’s lucky in that respect because you’re pretty sure he would have lost a finger or two if he’d actually made contact. 

“Am I?” Blue smiles, all teeth. 

The man chuckles lightly, but swallows, a hint of uncertainty in his voice the next time he speaks. Subtle, but there. “Well… yes.”

Blue waits for a moment, just letting the others' words hang in the air. He blinks twice, shaking his head a minute amount. Such a little gesture shouldn’t feel so… vicious. 

Your stomach twists, a feeling that had started to fade into your memory. You’d forgotten how dangerous he was. With all the things he’d let you do, the power he’d let you have over him, it had become so easy to fall into that false sense of security. 

You lean slightly into Blue, resting your head on his shoulder and threading your fingers through his, forcing him to loosen the grip on your shoulder. 

He looks down at your face, his eyelashes practically kissing his cheeks. There’s an oddly soft expression that passes over his eyes. There for a moment before it’s gone. 

He looks back to the other man, his tone lighter this time. “What’s wrong with a little showing off?” 

It’s almost as if the whole club breathes a collective sigh of relief.

“Nothing.” 

All four go back to their conversation as if nothing had transpired. 

The waiter brings you a bright pink cocktail that’s too sweet. But you slip at it anyway to save the poor man from Blue’s ire.

.

You attempt to slip away during Trixie’s big performance, while Blue is saying polite goodbyes to the gentleman at the table as he sends them off with other girls.

But he keeps your hand firmly in his the whole time. 

It’s only then that you notice someone at the far side of the club, their gaze on you like a sense of creeping dread. It’s Crystal.

At first you think she’s scowling at Blue, until realisation dawns that it is in fact you that she is looking at. 

The expression is so fierce that at first you can’t take notice of anything else. It’s only later that you realise she was wearing a dark purple dress.

“Trying to escape?” Blue’s voice makes you jump. He’s leaning close, his lips practically touching your ear and grinning. 

You frown at him. “Trying to.” You look back to the side of the club, Crystal is gone.

He laughs. “Silly little Lion.” 

“Careful.” 

He bites his lips together, still smiling, clearly overly amused by your reaction. “And why would I want to be careful, hmm?” He brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Maybe I want your claws to come out?” 

There’s a light flush to his cheeks that isn’t from the alcohol, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. 

He lets you look over him for a moment before he squeezes your hand and places it in the crook of his arm. “Come.” 

He glances at one of his guards, gesturing with his head and practically communicating telepathically before he guides you across the room and down the corridor to his office. 

It’s cooler once you’re out from the sea of people in the club, quieter, even though you can still hear the echoing bass of the music. 

You’re not sure why you let him lead you; why you walk in step with him without question. The idea of it alone should be enough to get under your skin. 

“Why am I wearing this dress Blue?” 

“You can take it off if you prefer.” He purrs.

You glare at him. “That’s not what I mean.” 

“What do you mean then?” He raises his eyebrows at you, practically giddy with glee. 

“The colour-”

“Do you not like your dress?” He fakes a look of disappointment, “I’m hurt, Lion.” 

You pinch his inner elbow and he laughs as he flinches a little in surprise. He squeezes your hand tighter in the crook of his arm. 

“You know what I mean, Blue.” 

“I do.” He opens his office door with a little flourish before he ushers you inside. 

“It’s not-” You gasp as he grabs your biceps, pushing your back up against the door and using the force of the push to shut it. 

He kisses you roughly, groaning as he presses himself close to you but breaks it before you even get a chance to react. “You drive me insane, Lion.” He mutters against your mouth. “Insane.” 

He strokes your cheek softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Can’t think about anything if you’re not near me.” He presses his lips to yours again, soft and sweet before trailing down along your jaw and to your neck. 

You shiver, jumping under his touch as he licks and kisses, lightly scrapes his teeth over your skin. 

When you react he groans softly, rubbing the heavily outline of his erection against your thigh. 

Your breathing hitches, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Your body reacts without your permission, pressing closer and craving more of his touch. 

He leaves a gentle kiss on your collar bone before he sinks to his knees, looking up at you through his long lashes. “Want to take care of you, Lion…” He waits a moment, watching your face intently, seemingly measuring the seconds via the rise and fall of your chest. “Want to make you feel good.” 

Painfully slowly he runs his hands up your calves, pushing up your dress as he goes. 

You swallow as you watch him, how he gazes up at you looking so soft and pliant. Part of you wants to stop him, to force him back and regain control. But another deeper part recognises his submission, realises that the control is already all yours. 

He kisses the side of your left knee, pressing close as he drags your dress higher and higher, the smooth scrape of the fabric leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

He gasps softly as he finally lifts it over your hips, revealing you completely to him. Languidly he runs the very tip of his forefinger down the centre of your mons until he brushes your clit. 

He seems mesmerised for a second as your body jolts under his touch.

You bite into your bottom lip to stop yourself from making a sound, but still your rapid breathing echoes loudly in your head. 

Blue shuffles forward, closing his eyes as he licks a board, flat trail through your folds. He moans loudly, his eyebrows pinched together as he tastes you. Heat pools and twists in his belly, spiralling downwards to his throbbing cock as his movements get bolder. 

He presses his tongue deeper, just teasing your entrance as his licks grow firmer, sinking down to the very edge of your core before working his way back up to your clit. 

Your muscles tense, legs weakening as your body starts to fight your mind for complete control. 

“Blue…” You mutter, your voice strained and desperate.

He groans loudly, doubling down on his efforts as he keeps lapping at you desperately. 

The sound of his zipper being opened barely registers to your ears as he fumbled with it, pulling his cock free in a rush and hastily jerking himself in time with his licks. 

You moan quietly, unable to stop yourself as you grab hold of the back of his head and press him closer. Your hips buck, grinding against his warm, wet and eager mouth. 

Blue whines, his eyes rolling back as you take hold of him. His breathing hitches and he gasps once, a weak Lion escaping his lips in a needy, desperate plea before he swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it into his mouth before doing back to those long, long licks. 

He buries himself between your thighs, single minded in his need for your pleasure as he rocks and moves with you, his fist a blur on his own length. 

You dig your fingers of one hand into the wood of the door, the other into his short hair, rolling your hips to chase the delicious friction of his sinful mouth. Heat coils tightly in your stomach, your thighs start to shake as he moans and licks, smearing your wetness all over his face. 

This time the moan that leaves you is loud and wrecked, pleasure pulling at every part of you and overriding any other possible thought. 

You tense, shaking as you come, your head thrown back and pressing against the door. 

Blue whines as your sweet release hits his tongue, as your muscles squeeze and quake and flutter on his tongue. 

He jerks his wrist twice, watching your face eagerly as you cry out, and comes a second later, spurting hot thick ropes all over the carpet and office door. Some splashes onto your calves.

He slows his hand in time with the gentle rock of your hips, only pulling his mouth away when you slump back and your grip on his hair lessens. 

He stares up at you with large, dark eyes. The entirety of his lower face shining with your slick. 

Your breathing calms, your heartbeat slowly returning to normal as you keep your eyes closed. 

Blue breathes deeply, glancing down briefly and noticing the drops of his release on your legs. He tuts and leans forward, darting his tongue out to lick your skin clean while simultaneously not giving a damn about the mess on the door. 

You let out a little yelp of surprise as his warm tongue touches your skin, but he places a soothing hand on your thigh, stroking soft circles as he works. 

You’re not sure what to expect when he stands, but it certainly isn’t the soft kiss he gives you while stroking your cheeks with his hands. 

“Come to bed with me, Lion.” He mutters, his voice soft and eyes closed. 

Thank you for reading!

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[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

Dating Loki Headcanons

As a Midgardian...

Loki is cold, cruel and cunning. He pretends that he doesn't like anyone and is emotionless, and he was the same with you too.

But as he got to know you, he fell for you.

You had been in love with the God of Mischief for ages and finally worked up the courage to ask him out.

Loki agreed to go on a date with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, he was closed-off and cold but later, he would talk to you about everything.

Expect pranks and jokes at all times, but he'd do nothing that can actually harm you.

He loves shopping for clothes and shoes for you. They're always the expensive ones, something which you by yourself would never even think of buying.

But they're all green. He loves it when you're studded in his colour, and makes a face when you refuse to wear green.

Loki has a calm, soothing voice and loves to read to you before bed. You love hearing his voice before falling asleep on his chest.

He often has nightmares, and whenever he does have them, he wakes up silently but covered in cold sweat. He doesn't want to disturb you, but you wake up anyway and always comfort him, not wanting him to feel like he's alone.

Whenever you have nightmares, he'll hold you tight against himself and start humming a song for you to calm you down.

He's afraid to get physical with you or do any physical activity with you really. He thinks he'll hurt you, and though you insist that you're stronger than what he thinks, he's still very careful.

But he will find other ways to show you that he loves you.

If anyone tries to hurt you, they're done. They'll find themselves stabbed to death.

He doesn't understand why you're so worried about money. It's a fickle concept to him.

Loki loves to watch you cook. You're good at cooking -and if you weren't- he'd still watch you. Because you doing anything at all is interesting to him.

He's extremely possessive. At public events, he'd always have an arm around you or he'd be holding your hand. He'd also insist that you wear green so that people know you're his.

Loki's not one-sided. He stays away from women who are interested in him romantically - or anyone who can cause problems in your relationship - but if someone does try to flirt with him, he rejects them politely and if they still don't listen, he kisses you in front of everyone, to tell them who he belongs to.

Loki's afraid of hurting you, but more than that, he's afraid of scaring you. That's the reason why he has never shown his frost giant form to you.

Eventually, you insisted and he revealed his true form. You were a little scared but mostly stared in wonder because the patterns and texture of his blue skin were beautiful.

You love playing with Loki's hair, and he tries to show you that he hates it, but on the inside, he loves it.

Your friends and the Avengers have tried to warn you about Loki, thinking that he'd hurt you. But after seeing that he loves you, they backed off.

Loki knows what other people think of him, many still don't trust him, while some outright hate him, but he could care less. He only cares about your opinion.

Loki only seems perfect, and even when he's a god, he's like a human. You love him for his imperfections, and wouldn't want anyone else in his place.

Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Home Away from Home 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, jealousy, mentions of loss, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki, Peter Parker (tall!reader)

Summary: You’ve been friends with the Odinsons since childhood. After years of separation, you reunite on Midgard after the destruction of Asgard, but find yourself caught between your old and new lives. 

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Midgard is different. Everything is simpler but in such a quaint way. You ease into it like a warm bed. The surging traffic, the rush of pedestrians, and even the steaming manholes are intriguing to you. Much unlike the ambient and soft-skied place you grew up. 

What’s better is that you have friends close. Old and new. You’ve learned to cherish them more than count them. You never know when they’ll leave you. So fortunate you’ve been that ones you lost have returned to you. 

You walk into the tower with the big bold letters across the top; Stark. The man whose name it wears is amusingly small considering the immense peak of the building. And he always has some quip ready on his tongue. Not all find his words so funny. 

You approach the elevator and tilt your chin as you sense the shift in the air. The green flash scatters in your vision just as you predict. You shake your head Loki presses the button before you. 

“You said you would not come,” you chide as he lets you on the pulleyed-booth before him. 

“Did I?” He wonders. 

You look at him as he turns to stand parallel with you. 

“Perhaps I was mistaken. You do mumble at times,” you shrug. 

His eyes roll upward. You know it is not his choice. His is bound to his brother, whether he likes it or not. You all are. You Asgardians. A glorious people now lost. 

“These midgardians,” he grumbles. 

“Charming,” you say. 

“Do you think?” He scoffs. 

“Well, you always do try so hard not to be impressed,” you say. “After all we’ve been through, why should you care so much to be above it all?” 

“All we’ve been through?” He challenges. 

“It isn’t I who left, Loki Odinson,” you tut. 

He crosses his arms, “I said I would go.” 

“Not where.” 

“But I said.” 

“Or when.” 

“I left many people behind. My mother and father, not least of all, and now they are gone.” 

“As are mine,” you say without malice. They’ve been gone so long, it is merely a statement of fact. 

“Mm, yes,” he grows quiet. 

“You needn’t feel bad for it. My father picked up that sword and mantle, he faced the battle, he lost. My mother was ever too loyal for her own good,” you sigh. 

“I don’t feel bad. Wasn’t my doing, was it?” 

“Suppose the son cannot atone for the father,” you agree. 

“Perhaps if he’d ever treated me as son,” he gripes. “I tire of speaking of the past.” 

“Then let us focus on now,” the doors open and you strut out. “The rain has cleared and I smell coffee.” 

He follows despite his irritation. He always was so gloomy. Once you bonded over that shared malignance but you grew out of yours. He is older than you, he should have as well. 

“You shouldn’t imbibe it. It is garbage water.” 

“I enjoy it,” you insist. 

“It makes you...” he slithers. “Never mind.” 

“It makes me what?” You wonder as you slow to let him catch pace with you. 

“It makes you... too much. You speak too fast.” 

“Or you cannot keep up,” you chuckle. “Tell me, prince, can you not be happy that we’ve come back together? Old friends, new places. Funny what the norns can do.” 

“Hm, you sound like him.” 

“Your brother is contagious,” you grin and turn into the kitchen. “And you are correct, the coffee is infectious.” 

As you enter, another figure stands by the coffee maker. He stands stiffly by it, head angled as if he’s listening. You know it’s that sense he has of things. The way he feels the rain coming. 

“Light roast,” Peter turns with a triumphant smile, “I heard you coming.” 

“Pfft,” Loki scoffs at you side. 

“You didn’t,” you chime as you meet Peter halfway. 

“Of course! Aren’t you excited? Your first mission.” Peter beams up at you. He is funny. Such a small man but powerful. 

“I must admit I am more anxious than excited, but if I can help your people, I will do my best,” you avow. 

“Always so helpful,” Loki intones. 

“Oh, is he coming? I didn’t think he was included.” 

“Even if I were, I wouldn’t bother fighting your puny battles. I daresay my brother only enjoys the opportunity to boast,” Loki sneers. 

“Do not be so sour,” you gird Loki. “I will do my best and hope it is enough. I cannot claim to be as mighty as the princes.” 

“Oh, aren’t you a princess?” Peter wonders. 

“A princess? How silly. No, no,” you chuckle and pause to taste the coffee. “Mm, you’ve made it perfect, dor-dígull.” 

“Dord....er, what does that mean?” Peter asks. 

“It means ‘little spider’,” Loki spits, “fitting.” 

“I do not mean any harm,” you shoo Loki with your fingers. “But I will not call you such if you do not wish, Lord Parker.” 

“I prefer it to Lord,” Peter laughs. “So, if you’re not a princess, how do you know Thor and Loki?��� 

“Hm, we met as children. The prince,” you gesture to Loki, “put a snake in my pillow case so I kept it and named it Jörmungandr. Though he never got so big as to swallow the world. And the other prince, now king, screamed when I showed him said snake and would not stop telling it to turn back into his brother...” 

You laugh heartily at the memory. 

“You... went to school together?” Peter asks. 

“Not exactly. They had lessons and I would dispose of the used parchment and empty inkwells.” 

“So you were a servant?” 

“I was a ward of the crown,” you explain. 

“He needn’t know so much,” Loki harrumphs as he watches from the doorway. 

“What harm is there in it? All there is to know is only words now,” you say. 

Loki grumbles something unintelligible. 

“I wish I could’ve seen it,” Peter says, “I’m sorry that it’s gone now.” 

“Yes, well, it’s as our king says, you are fortunate if you have loss for it means you had something to cherish,” you smile, bittersweet tug in your cheeks. “Well, I suppose we should go to this mission.” You raise your cup but stop yourself from drinking it as you find Loki glaring at you. No, not you, but Peter. “My prince, are you sure you wouldn’t like to come along? I’m certain another set of hands is not unwelcome.” 

“With Stark, I’m always unwelcome,” Loki sneers and another green flash wipes you vision. He’s gone and you’re left with only Peter. 

“I can’t believe he’s Thor’s brother,” he snorts. “They’re nothing alike.” 

[simplyholl]

Out of My System Pt 5

Summary: Loki doesn’t understand Thor’s attraction to Midgardians. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.

W/C: 1.9K

See My Masterlist Here

The midnight pool party was all you could talk about. You decided to wear the tiny, red bikini you had only wore around the compound. And only in front of people you were extremely comfortable with. Nat bought a black one just like it, so you could match for the party. It helped you to feel less self conscious too.

Everyone who was anyone would be in attendance tonight, including Tony’s nephew Ben. You went on one date with him a few weeks ago, but it wasn’t anything serious. You still texted with him sometimes. It was mostly flirting, nothing too deep. He was attractive, but you couldn’t see yourself with him long term. Maybe that’s just what you needed right now, some fun.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring how the small garment made you look. You fluff your hair one last time before walking down the hallway to meet up with Nat.

Loki’s mind hadn’t stopped racing since the kiss that almost was. He had made up a million different plans to seduce you. Each of them worse than the last. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. Under usual circumstances, he could get a woman out of her panties without so much as talking to her.

He just turned on the charm and they fell at his feet. But he had never seduced a mortal before, had never wanted to. He couldn’t figure out the hold you had on him. He knew Fiona was right. He was merely curious. Once he had you in his bed, the spell you had on him would be broken.

The music blared out of the speakers. Most of the guys were jumping into the pool. Steve was grilling by the side of the compound. You and Natasha were dirty dancing on everyone who came over to you. You were laughing and smiling so much, your cheeks hurt.

Loki watched as you danced with Ben Stark. You were wearing that red bathing suit that was often the subject of his fantasies. Loki wasn’t jealous. He just wished it was him you were dancing with instead.

The song changed and you ran over to Natasha, both of you screaming about the song choice. Nat sat in one of the lounge chairs. You crawled on top of her grinding against her in time with the music. The Ying Yang Twins was the artist playing. Loki recalled Lang introducing it to him months prior, so he would be familiar with Midgardian music. A classic, he had called it.

Loki couldn’t take his eyes off you. You made eye contact with him. He looked away too quickly, failing to hide that he was staring. He saw you say something to Natasha. You crawled out of her lap, and walked towards him.

“Hey Loki, can we talk for a minute?” He nodded, scooting over on his blanket to make room for you to sit beside him. “You’ve been weird with me since field day. I just wanted to know why.”

“I haven’t meant to behave strangely with you. I apologize.” He’s looking at the other party goers instead of you. “I thought you were going to kiss me.” That gets his attention. He whips his head toward you.

“I wanted you to. I replayed it over and over again in my head. I thought I misread the situation. It’s so hard to read you. I never know what’s on your mind. Tell me what you want, Loki.”

A sigh escapes him. He pushes a stray hair behind your ear. “I want you.” It seems like a weight has been lifted off him with that confession. You’re feeling more confident now. “Then have me. What’s stopping you?”

He leans in cupping your jaw, tilting your face toward his. His lips meet yours with more softness than you expected. You could tell he’s holding back. You deepen the kiss, climbing into his lap. Your hands travel the length of his back.

You pull him as close as you can. You’re the first to break the kiss. You sink your teeth into his neck. With a primal growl, he flips you over onto your back. He traps you with his bulky body. He nips your earlobe, his large hands covering your breasts.

You squirm underneath him trying to rub yourself against him, desperate for friction. He laughs wickedly, looking down at your trapped legs held captive by his own. You feel his hard length pressed against you. You slip your hands in his swimming trunks taking him between your eager hands.

You pump him once, twice. He says your name through gritted teeth wrapping his fingers around your wrist to stop you. “Slow down, love. We have all night.”

You find yourself in Loki’s apartment pinned to his door. Your wandering hands take in every inch of hardened muscle as he feverishly kisses you. “We shouldn’t do this.” Loki murmurs against your neck. You let out a shaky breath. He’s right, you shouldn’t but you don’t care. You’ll deal with the consequences later. Tonight all you want is him.

“My forbidden fantasy.” He whispers as he cups your breasts. His fingers slide under your bikini top finding your pebbled nipples. You arch into him. “Tell me to stop.” His voice is barely audible. It sounds almost like he’s begging you.

“I can’t, Loki. I want this so badly. I want you. Don’t you want this?” He continues tugging your nipples. “I want this more than my next breath. I’ll have you just this night.” He lifts you, carrying you to his bed. He places you gently on the satin sheets.

“Since this is all I get of you, if this is the only time we are together this way, I’m going to savor it. Every inch of you. Everything you have to offer.” He pulls on the flimsy fabric of your top. The material snaps in his powerful hand.

He lowers his head to your chest taking a hardened peak into his mouth. He settles between your legs, removing the rest of your bikini. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh. You are almost shaking with anticipation.

He dives right in, flattening his tongue against you. He fastens his lips around your clit gently sucking. Your hands tangle in his dark curls. You hold his head as if it’s the only thing keeping you here on Earth. You’re sure if you let go, you would float away.

He moves his hot muscle in quick flicks over your clit. One of his hands finds your chest, rolling a nipple between skilled fingers. The other is on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. He swirls his tongue in a pattern that blurs your vision. You writhe against his face as you explode.

He looks up at you, his lips turned upward in a cocky grin. He’s never been more attractive than right now. Propped between your legs, his mouth covered in your arousal. “I need more.” He states with all the seriousness he can muster. He spreads your trembling thighs once more.

His tongue parts your swollen folds, gliding through you with ease. Loki is ravenous. He eats you like you’re the first meal he’s had in weeks. His face is pressed to you so closely, you’re not sure how he’s even breathing. You know he is from the moans coming from between your legs. He’s not satisfied until you come a second time.

He lays his head on your thighs letting you catch your breath. You play with the messy curls splayed against you. “I’m glad you don’t want to make this a regular thing. If we did this often, I would fall in love with you.” You’re joking, but there is a lot of truth to it. You laugh, but his expression changes as if he is really contemplating your words.

He places a tender kiss on the inside of your wrist. “I’m not capable of love, darling. But if I was…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he lines himself up at your entrance, pushing into you slowly. You release the breath you didn’t know you were holding. He rocks into you with slow, deep thrusts. You buck against him, needing more.

“My needy girl, perhaps you would like this better.” You gasp as he suddenly flips you. His back is now the one against the mattress. You grind down on his lap. You decide to try something different, swaying forward and back. Loki watched intently.

“Sorry. This probably isn’t doing anything for you, is it?” You pause your movements waiting for his answer. “This is everything. I want you to take your pleasure from me.” He grips your hips, rocking you back and forth on his hard cock. The angle hits your g-spot, causing you to cry out his name. You grip his shoulders for support. He continues controlling your movements until you shatter once more.

Loki finds his place on top of you claiming you again. He handles you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing in the world to him. Like he’s afraid you will break with one wrong move. He slips his hand between you, his finger tracing your clit. He sinks into you deeper burying his face against your neck.

You claw at his back, moaning his name with each tilt of his hips. “Can you come for me once more, love?” You sigh. You’re so exhausted. You think another orgasm might kill you. “I don’t think I can, Loki.” His fingers move faster, in time with his thrusts. “Just one more. Will you try for me?” You confirm that you will. His next movement deliciously brushes your walls, hitting your sweet spot again.

You gasp his name with such longing, it makes his heart soar. You come apart at the same time losing yourselves in each other. He presses gentle kisses to your neck, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “That’s it, such a good girl for me.” Once you’ve both come down from your high, he takes his place beside you. You’re smiling so widely you’re sure you resemble a creepy clown.

He smiles back taking in your appearance. Your disheveled hair, the flush of your cheeks. He was sure you’d never been more beautiful. It was like Valhalla having you for the first time. It had never been like this. Then he realized what he feared most was true. Fiona was wrong. He would never get over this. He would never be able to get you out of his system.

You notice his smile falters. You interpret it as him wanting you to leave now that you were done. Even though it couldn’t be further from the truth. “So is this the part where you kick me out and tell me it was all a huge mistake? That you regret it and we can never talk about it again?”

Loki takes your hand in his, entwining your fingers. “I’ve made plenty mistakes in my life, but this is not one. I swear it. I could never regret this, regret you.” He looks at you with such vulnerability. You’d never seen him like this before.

You know he doesn’t actually mean it. He is the god of lies after all. It’s probably something he says to everyone he sleeps with, but it’s too late. His sweet words take root in the depths of your heart, even though they shouldn’t.

He wraps his arms around you, snuggling in to you. You close your eyes, enjoying being this close to him. If this is all you’ll ever have with him, you want it to last.

Loki knows he should let you go. He should leave you and go sleep on his couch, or throw you out like you had suggested. But that only makes him hold you tighter.

Part Six

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[thelemonsnek]

[id: a reference sheet of Lyfrassir Edda from The Bifrost Incident. They are tall, have brown skin, long white hair, feathered wings and a tail. Their hands and the underside of their hair and wings all have a shifting rainbow pattern to them. They are wearing a purple tunic with a darker purple vest over the top, gloves, light grey pants, and heeled boots. In one drawing, they stand neutrally facing the viewer, holding a gun in one gloved hand, with the other hand ungloved, showing off the rainbow swirls on their skin. In the second drawing, they sit with their wings spread out behind them.

The second image is the same drawing, but this time without the bifrost effects on their wings. End id]

Finally solidified their design after YEARS. Have a Lyf :> further notes under the cut

- their hands are so heavily affected because of black box exposure, from them constantly holding and handling it

- touching things with their bare hands causes the object (or being) to warp, becoming "infected" by the Bifrost. Some examples from writing I never finished,

"they finally twist around and shove at TS. [...] it clutches at its chest, feeling flesh slowly recede to back wood."

"Lyfrassir raises their hands to block her, freezing cold rainbows already sizzling through what remains of their gloves. She shrieks as their hands meet her flesh, and color begins to march across her body, twisting morphing shattering molding oozing merging-"

(I swear I also had one of them melting a mug, or maybe a pen, but I can't find it 😔 you get the idea though)

- their gloves were specially designed to withstand these effects

- stronger emotions = stronger bifrost effects. They tend to repress a lot all the time

- they can see the "strings" of the universe, and can play them like a harp to manipulate the outcome of things/change reality. This is harder to do with their gloves on, but possible - just less precise

- their wings didn't grow in until they were around 100 years old, per my headcanons for Midgardians. The Bifrost, which keeps them from dying, made this process Fucking Suck because it kept healing them before the wings were done coming in, leaving them in a constant state of skin ripping open, healing, and ripping open again for far too long

- because they haven't always had their wings, they tend to be slightly more expressive with them

[braveclementine]

October 22: Sex Pollen (Loki Laufeyson)❤️

Warnings: could be seen as non-con, royalty kink, induced sex

Copyright: I do not own Loki (please kidnap me Loki) or any other Marvel/MCU characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"What exactly is it?" You asked Bruce as he showed you a new, interesting specimen that had been found in space and brought back to Earth.

It was a beautiful flower of sorts, bright pink with white teardrops on the petals. The stem was green and a little purple where the stem curled up to the petals.

"I'm not sure yet." Bruce said, moving away from the table to go and sit behind his computer. "I do know that it is from the planet Kuth." He said, showing you a picture of an Earth-like planet with a turquoise sky and a field of these flowers that had signs around them, as though warding people to be careful of the flower patch. "Could be dangerous, might not be. Perhaps Loki or Thor or one of the Guardians will know. Loki's coming. . . when?"

"This Saturday." You said happily, missing your best friend and crush- though no one actually knew about the latter part.

"Excited to see him again?" Bruce asked skeptically.

"I know, I know, he's a terrible Midgardian killing God, but we're friends and that's behind him now." You said. "Plus, he was being slightly controlled by Ronan and Thanos, just like Bucky was controlled by HYDRA and you all like Bucky."

"Fair." Bruce relented. "But not everyone sees it like that either."

"And some people still think Bucky ought to be given the Death Penalty." You pointed out.

"Fair again." Bruce admitted. "Anyways, make sure that you keep away from this until I can figure out what it is. If its' poisonous, we wouldn't want a disease to break out over the city."

"Will do boss." You said cheekily and then made your way out of the room.

You couldn't wait to show Loki!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"It's a flower?" Loki asked skeptically.

The two of you were standing on the balcony, overlooking the pool. The other Avengers were stripped down to swim trunks and two-piece bathing suits, enjoying the nice day. Steve and Fury were barbequing on the grill with some help from Sam, while the girls were sunbathing on the law chairs.

Tony, Stephen, and Bruce were deep in conversation about something, a handful of beers on the table in front of them.

Thor was sitting in the pool, Parker and some of his friends from school in there too.

Bucky meanwhile was playing cornhole with Clint, Rhodey, and T'Challa.

"A beautiful flower." You clarified. You and Loki were pretty much alone on the balcony. Loki was wearing his normal Asgardian wear as he hadn't felt like wearing anything from Midgard, and you were wearing denim shorts and a shirt that you had tied off above the belly button.

"It's still a flower." Loki deadpanned, placing his hands on the railing, "What is this gathering they are doing?"

"It's called a pool party Lokes." You sighed, "C'mon, I want to show it to you."

Loki sighed, looking over at you. "Don't you want to join in on this pool party instead?"

You felt frustrated. You knew your crush was one-sided (as they always were), but you thought that Loki at least liked you as a friend. Or at least, you seemed to be the only one he tolerated. But friends shared things with each other all the time, right?

"No, I want to show you the flower which I'm not really supposed to show you because Bruce doesn't know what it is yet." You sighed, pushing away from the banister, "But it's okay. I realize guys don't really like those sorts of things. It's kind've hot, I'm gonna go inside."

Loki started for a moment, staring after you. He hoped he hadn't offended you, but flowers- well you even seemed to know they weren't something he'd want to see. But shit, it wasn't about him, it was about you.

"Wait!" He called, hurrying to catch the door, coming back into the building.

You were half tempted not to stop, but you did anyways, turning to look at him.

"I do want to see the flower, but I just didn't know if there was something else you'd rather do. The party looked like something you would've enjoyed." Loki explained.

Why the hell did he have to look so sexy? You wished you could see him in his pool garb. Black or green or gold swim trunks. No shirt. You imagined that he had a fit body underneath the layers of Asgardian leather. You could imagine black aviator shades on his face, his hair possibly pulled back into a ponytail.

You quickly shook your head to clear your thoughts and said, "Well, I knew you wouldn't enjoy the party. You don't really like them. Anyways, the flower is this way."

Immediately, he was caught off guard of your awareness for his likes and dislikes. Sure, he knew all of yours, perhaps even knowing more about you, than you did. But the fact that you were just as aware as him was strange.

Different.

Almost likable.

You led him down the hallway, taking the elevator to the bottom floor. You slipped into Bruce's lab, the door shutting behind the two of you. You led him over to the case display where he'd set up the flower under examination.

"It is quite unique." Loki admitted after looking at the flower for a moment. In reality, he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You were a strange mortal, no doubt, perhaps as unique as this flower in the right place. After all, this flower didn't stick out in its home, but it did on Earth. And he supposed each human was unique in their own way. You were just more special.

"I hope its not harmful." You said wistfully. "I want to know what it smells like."

Loki suddenly plucked the glass case off of the flower and you stared at him in shock, "What if it's poisonous! Loki put it back!"

"Calm down Y/N. A measly flower cannot kill me." Loki smiled, before lowering his nose down to smell the flower. After inhaling the scent, he pulled back. "Perhaps it is just me, but there seems to be a very strange smell coming from the flower. It's almost like. . . honey and almonds but that can't quite be right, can it?"

You bent down to smell the flower next. After all, it didn't seem to have affected Loki so it was probably safe.

Well that was strange because you didn't smell any of the things that Loki had smelt. Instead, you seemed to have smelt expensive leather, expensive cologne, and vanilla. Actually. . . it smelt a lot like Loki.

You laughed, "Kind've reminds me of Amortentia."

"What in the world is that?" Loki asked.

"It was a love potion in Harry Potter. Smells like the person that you are in love with so each person thinks the flower smells like something else." You explained.

Loki's cheeks flushed pink. "Ah I-"

But whatever he was going to say didn't matter, as two small pink hearts actually popped out of the flower. They were extremely small, small enough to fit on your pinky fingernail. They weren't filled in, but seemed rather a stencil. They floated upwards and you felt one land on the tip of your nose and looked to Loki in time to see the other hit him on the nose and then sink in.

"Are we dead?" You asked with fright.

Once again, he didn't get to answer because your lips were pressed together, your arms around each others necks. The kiss was messy and erotic, a clashing of lips, tongue, and teeth. It was like you were trying to devour each other, and neither of you were able to get any closer.

"This needs to come off." Loki growled, ripping the shirt from your body and you had no room to protest as you were feverishly stripping him of his Asgardian uniform, cursing the amount of layers he was wearing.

Loki attached his lips to your neck as you kicked off your own skirt, leaving you bare in front of him. Most of his clothes were off, though he wouldn't let you go to take his pants off. Those he shucked off himself.

It was like a very chaotic dream as the two of you seemed to almost wrestle with each other, over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. Loki swept everything off of the desk, making glass shatter, pens scatter, and papers drift out across the room.

Loki seemed to suddenly slam you down on the table, before plunging into you in a feral way. Your back arched off the table at the sudden intrusion, but you found that it had been a very easy entrance, as there was almost no pain.

"Fuck." You moaned, "Loki, faster."

"It's your highness to you." Loki growled again.

"Your highness!" You nearly screamed.

Everything seemed heightened, yet fuzzy. Like you couldn't even believe that your orgasm was already fast approaching and he'd barely been inside of your for a minute. Nor was he overstimulating you in any way that would make an orgasm approach so fast.

Your fingers dug into his forearms, spurring him on to move even faster inside of you, hips snapping against yours. You might've sworn that his balls were hitting you so hard in the ass that you'd have bruises tomorrow. His hands were definitely going to leave bruises all over your body from how tightly he was holding.

It was fuzzy though, like your brain wasn't really working. A small part in the back of your mind was telling you that this was bad, that this was wrong. It was going to ruin your friendship with Loki after all. How were the two of you going to recover after this? You were going to lose one of your best friends because of a stupid flower!

But that part was clear and the rest was fuzzy and you couldn't really focus on it with so much chaos going on around you. You were mostly feeling euphoric, barely even thinking about anything at all as your orgasm hit you like the impact of the bottom of a cliff.

You weren't sure how long you went or how many rounds or even how many orgasms. You know that you went from your back on the desk, to riding him on the floor, to being fucked into a chair, and then back to the floor.

It was like a dream and then the two of you seemed to slow down, things seemed to become clearer. The lights seemed less harsh and you realized that though the room was freezing cold, you were both covered in sweat.

You collapsed against Loki's chest and his arms drew you into him.

"Shit." He muttered. "I wasn't expecting that."

You were silent, heart pounding. You had had a crush on him for the longest time. You had wanted this for the longest time- but not like this. It was supposed to be mutual. It was supposed to be remarkable, rememberable.

You sat up slowly, searching for your clothes when Steve, Bruce, and Tony came walking in. Steve backpedaled so quickly upon seeing the two of you buck naked that he slammed his head into the doorframe, denting it rather effectively.

Bruce turned a nice shade of pink, covering his face with his hand.

Tony meanwhile, turned red and pointed to the stuff on the floor. "What did you do?!"

"I think that's very obvious Tony." Steve muttered, leaning his forehead on the wall so he didn't have to look at the two of you.

Loki seemed unconcerned, snapping his fingers so that clothes appeared on him again. Or maybe it was just an illusion, but either way you wished he could've done it for you.

You wrapped one of the office blankets around you and then you said, "Well, Bruce, we found out what your flower does."

[talesofadragon]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

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

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Asgardian!Reader

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

Genre: Hurt/Comfort | Fluff | Mild Angst

Word Count: 6K (I have no regrets)

Based on this Request from my writing celebration.

All Masterlists | Sab's Wring Fest

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds tedious,” you lamented.

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

“Why would someone create such a senseless horror?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You are not helping!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thor clearly disagrees.”

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

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

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

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

“I stand by what I said.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, you certainly were, you internally chastised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cracked. How dare he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When had you become so insensitive?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up!”

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

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

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

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

“Loki!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did you do?"

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

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

"What was that for?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not belittle yourself in my presence.”

Thor chuckled softly, his gaze just as gentle.

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

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

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

“What similarities?”

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

“She is a mortal,” you countered. 

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

“Then why—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me, my God.”

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

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

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

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

[loz-3]

An Unwilling Operative - Part Two

Pairing: Loki x female reader Word Count: 2,257 Warnings: strong language, forced confinement, violence, forced sedation

Tags in the comments!

Part One

Consciousness ebbed and flowed like the tide. At times, you were only aware of colours and muted sounds, but sometimes a word would swim to the front and make some form of sense to your addled mind. Nothing spoken was ever in English, so while you could recognize spoken language, the meaning was lost. Deep within, you were aware that these were Hydra agents and whatever was happening was probably terrible. Moments passed, maybe hours, even days without respite until your vision cleared and you fully woke.

"What a fucking nightmare…" You sat up and ran your fingers through your hair. Glancing around, you were at home, on the couch, still wearing your work clothes from the day prior. You looked down at your watch, noting it was almost time to get up anyways. You tried to remember what the nightmare was about, but it was gone. Last thing you could recall was bidding Loki goodnight at the end of your coffee date. Scowling to yourself, you got up, scratching absently at a raised bump on your neck. You must have been bitten by something last night.

Once showered and dressed, you made your way to the office, not bothering to stop at the café. It was too overpriced for cheap, shit coffee anyways. You arrived late, which was very atypical for you. The receptionist waved and smiled, as she usually did, but you didn't even look up nor acknowledge her presence. Her face fell as you passed her desk silently, giving you a happy boost of serotonin.

The elevator was crowded, people shuffled to allow you a spot to stand, offering up “good mornings” and other pleasantries. Your scowl deepened and they kept their distance the best they could. ‘How on earth did I put up with this shit before?’ you thought, reflecting on the major shift in your attitude, ‘Fuck this place..’

When the doors opened on your floor, you pushed out of the elevator and set up for the day. Normally, you would organize the returned items, and prep paperwork ahead of the rush, all while cheerfully humming to yourself. Today was different, you felt the shift. It was like your eyes had been opened to reveal the truth about how shit your job was, and how greedy and corrupt S.H.I.E.L.D. was. Based on the tech you had access to, they obviously weren’t spending their government funds on bettering things for agents or the team.

Your day chugged on as you slowly descended into dubitation and general mistrust. As noon rolled around, you opted to close up for lunch. You just stepped out into the hall and locked the door behind you, when you noticed Loki loitering at the corner towards the lobby. With a huge smile, you went straight for him, grabbing the front of his leathers and pulled him down into an aggressive kiss. His eyebrows scrunched together, hesitantly pulling back. "What? I am not good enough for you now?" you spoke harshly, accusatorially, pushing off your grip on him.

He raised both hands in an effort to keep the peace, "Where is this coming from, Y/N?". Concern coloured his tone but he didn't lower his hands. He had noticed something was off earlier, having chalked it up to a bad day, but now he knew for sure that something was wrong. "We were starting slow, you did not want to rush…"

"Ah, of course! It's all my fault then!" You got right up in his face, arms crossed.

Loki lowered his hands to his sides, making sure to not touch you, "I did not say that…"

“But you thought it! ‘Stupid little Midgardian, couldn’t possibly know what she wants’!”

He sighed, gently placing a hand on each of your shoulders, “Please, listen to me…I..”

You cut him off, "Maybe you should just mind your own fucking business, if you're going to be like that." You turned your back on him and threw off his hands, striding part way down the hall before rounding back, "Know what? You and your massive fucking ego can fuck right off. Don't bother with tech requests anymore, I'll just get them sent directly to your room… saves me having to look at your narcissistic fucking face."

His jaw dropped in shock at your outburst, but he quickly composed himself, "I take my leave then." His eyes were steel as he headed around the corner, jamming the elevator button with enough force to crack the plastic. Your words had cut him deeper than you knew, but true to his nature, he buried the hurt.

You continued to pace the hall, a twinge of guilt flooded into your heart. '…I've never spoken to him like that before…' You thought, shaking your head in an attempt to organize your feelings, '…no..no! That's on him for leading me on!'. You retreated back to your office, slamming the door behind you. "What a dick…" muttering to yourself, you opened the shutters to the empty hallway.

Finally your day in this hellscape of an office was over. You slammed the gate closed, swiftly locking it and the door behind you as you swept from the building. You didn't encounter anyone on your way out, nor did you hope to. The goal was home and a bucket of whatever drink you had at there. Which, if you were honest with yourself, probably wasn't much. You walked quickly down the street, pausing only to glare at the little coffee shop on the way. "What a dump," you muttered under your breath, "and what a shit date THAT was…". Shaking your head to push out the memory, you hurried along, arriving at your door shortly. You stalked up the stairs to your apartment, noting the deadbolt was unlocked but not really caring that much. "If there's someone in here, you might as well just fuck off. I'm not in the mood for this today."

A man stepped into the light from your living room, leaning against the door frame, "My, my… aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" His grin was ominous, growing more sinister as you rolled your eyes at him and flipped him off.

"I say again… you can fuck off."

"But we have an offer for you, my dear." A second man stepped out from the hall to your right, you hadn't even noticed him at first so you stepped away in shock. He made no further move, however, allowing you to relax a bit.

You turned towards the first man, shifting your hands to rest on your hips, "What kind of 'offer'?" Just as the words passed your lips, a wave of déjà vu hit. You frowned, bringing a hand up to press against your brow, confusion ringing in your head. The man in front gave the other a quick nod and he grabbed a hold of your arms, allowing the other to inject something into your neck. "What the fu…"

The chemical in the syringe doesn't knock you out completely, but makes you very easy to maneuver. The two men escort you to the couch, speaking to each other in a language you don't understand. You are plopped down hard onto the middle cushion, staring up at the men. The first, wearing a dark jacket with a Hydra insignia, crouched down and grabbed your face roughly, "I need you to listen, we are here to help you…" You tried to nod, but the grip under your chin didn't allow movement, he carried on, "дальний, обзор, иль, винить"

At the last word he uttered, you felt your confusion melt and the whisper of the memory was gone. "I just work in a office, I'm not sure what I could do for you… especially after you broke into my apartment…"

He chuckled darkly, "And we apologize for that. We're the good guys here! Your 'employer', well, they're a front corporation. Every conflict, every war in history was started by them.. for profit. You had wanted to help people, but now you sit in a tiny room, under constant surveillance, giving their living weapons all the help they need to destroy and murder." His compatriot nodded along, somehow pushing those intrusive thoughts home within your mind.

"I…did. I do!" You pulled yourself forward on the couch, urgently grabbing at the hand he had dropped from your face, "What do I need to do?"

When you return to work the next day, you are armed with a pair of tiny flash drives. The first one, once inserted into any computer at S.H.I.E.L.D, would eventually break through their security systems and install a program that essentially would open a data tunnel for Hydra. After a few hours, you'd be able to switch out the drives and the second one would transmit all data via the latent tunnel program.

You thankfully avoided meeting anyone on your route to your station. The last thing you needed was more stupid conversations with your idiot co-workers. Once you clocked in and started your day, you popped in the first of the two flash drives.

Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to you, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security system was far more advanced than Hydra had anticipated and the attempt on breaking in got flagged immediately.

"What in God's name is happening?" Nick Fury stormed around his desk to confront the agent standing in his doorway. "What do you mean, 'we have an issue'?" "Sir.." the agent began, stuttering as Fury's good eye glared down at him, "Sir, we had a breach in the digital security sector but we don't know where the anomaly is originating from, aside from within the complex on level five." "That's most definitely an issue then." "Yes sir… we've managed to lock down the floors' server access and have isolated the program, so it thinks it's working properly." The agent stepped back as Fury swept from the room and strode to the main security terminal. Every camera had been pulled up on the screen and he could easily see that there was only a few staff currently on duty on level five. 'Now we wait…' he thought. Someone would eventually make a move that gave them away. Squinting at the screen, he noted that everyone on the floor were veteran staff. Why on earth would one of them sabotage S.H.I.E.L.D.? He shook his head, not giving in to the thoughts of having a traitor in the mix.

A few hours passed. Finally the first flash drive had finished its task, the little light on it had changed from blinking red to solid blue. You gripped the drive and pulled it out of the computer, dropping it into your pocket for destruction later. Slipping the other drive out, you leant forward and gently inserted it into the USB plug. Suddenly the gate on your window slammed shut.

Shit.

Rushing to the window, you found it was locked externally. Same with the door out into the hallway and the door back into the tech storage/repair area. 'Shit shit SHIT!' You were trapped…just like the rat you were.

As if your situation couldn't get any worse, you heard the click of something engaging beyond your sight and a yellow mist slowly began to descend from the sprinkler system. You pulled your shirt over your face and covered your mouth, knowing that nothing good ever came from inhaling mystery chemicals. Huddling in the corner of the room, you tried to avoid the mist but it was no use. Soon the whole space was hazy from the gas and your vision faded to black.

Now you were…here…wherever here was.

This place…as it turned out, was a very bright, very sterile-feeling square room with a single low slung cot and an awfully flat pillow in one corner. The rest of the space was windowless, colourless, and bleak. A large door took up most of the far wall, opposite the cot, and there was a little camera above the door frame. It was also very quiet. Most definitely a S.H.I.E.L.D. holding cell of some sort.

When you had awoken from unconsciousness moments ago, your body was curled up on that cot, facing the bare wall. Every muscle, ever fibre of your existence hurt. It was like a truck had rammed headlong into a tree, and you were that tree. 'Ugh, what the hell…' your emotions flitted between panic, hysteria, and pure rage, 'Now, how can I get out of this place?'

Glancing down, you realized your normal clothes were gone…replaced with a horrible grey-coloured jump suit. The shoes were plain white slip-on style and no socks. Very minimalist but at least they let you wear something. Being naked would have made this little adventure of yours so much worse. You pulled on the door…it didn't budge. Slamming your fists on the metal, you growled in frustration, knowing you were in a ton of trouble.

Turning your attention to the camera, you asked aloud "Well, what the fuck do we do now?". The light on the camera flickered once, as if it was trying to reply but no voice accompanied it. You sank down to the floor, back against the wall and waited. Knowing S.H.I.E.L.D, it was only a matter of time before someone came to question you.

Notes: I'm so sorry for this portion, I had to end it on a hard note but a third part (maybe the final?) will be up early next week!

дальний, обзор, иль, винить - Russian (further, overview, il, blame)

Part Three

[kasdan]

Matching Costume Headcanons

masterlist

Pairing: marvel characters x gn!reader

Characters: Frank Castle, Loki, Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Yelena Belova, Matt Murdock, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: franks part was so fluffy and cheesy it hurt my heart and then theres matt being the biggest whore, nat is a menace

happy halloween all!❤️

𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆

he finds the costumes in the closet when he’s looking for something

“oh god”

knows exactly what it means even when he sees you and your innocent smile standing in the doorway

doesn’t even want to go out for halloween, but now he has to because he’s not going to turn you down when you look so excited and you obviously put time into finding the costumes

complains about how the costume fits on him and how it’s too tight in places

will put on a smile on his face even if he might not feel 100% into it, but by the end of the night he’ll won’t be able to help the genuine smile on his face, even if the costumes are of the dumbest things

gets tired of certain accessories on him and tries to take them off for a while, but is forced to put them right back on when he sees the look you have on your face

doesn’t care what he’s wearing he’s just glad he’s spending time with you and wouldn’t have it any other way

will put this costume or any other costume on again if you want him to mans actually will not care as long as you’re there with him

𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊

when you bring up the idea of matching costumes together he’s confused at this custom

“why would you want to dress as something else?”

you eventually convince him to do it and can see that he’s more excited for it than he lets on

lets you do all the planning as it was your idea after all

he pretends to be reading and fully immersed in the book when you’re putting some things together for the costumes

he’s not good at hiding his interest

when you ask him to try on the costume for the first time he’s very reluctant and makes a big deal out of it

you practically have to push him into the bathroom to change, him mumbling about how he can just use magic to put it on, but you insist that he has to put it on the correct way

will complain the entire time when out in public while wearing the costume about “dumb midgardian traditions”

will do it again next year if you ask really nicely:))

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔

you have multiple different costumes that you change into as the night progresses

is very committed to the different costumes

one costume she carries a boombox around on her shoulder and you know that mf is so heavy to be carried around like that

has you both take a picture of every single costume you change into

goes out dancing with the costumes on and you have the time of your lives

will put out the wackiest dance moves, attempting to make them correlate to the costume she’s wearing, but ends up just jumping around

will run down the street and drag you along with her, she enjoys the freeing feeling of the wind along with the costume she’s in

hosts a halloween costume party so she can show everyone both of your costumes at once

overall she really just likes halloween

you’ll bake food and treats while in your costumes

she’s really tempted to dress up for the entire week of halloween but eventually just decides to do the day of when you mention the work that would have to go into it, even though she had enough costumes to do so

you did it really just to save yourself so you wouldn’t have to dress up for an entire week

𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒏

she brings up the idea of matching costumes with the most excitement out of anyone

will have bruno make both the costumes— captain marvel of course but if you want to make your own she would be ecstatic and check up on the progress of it practically every minute

won’t stop talking about the costumes and how cute you guys are going to look in them

has her costume done months in advance

keeps giving you tips on different things you can do with your costume and adds the same things to her costume

the week of halloween no one can get her to shut up

she’s bouncing off the walls as halloween draws closer and the time to wear our costumes comes

her parents are constantly trying to get her to calm down but she’s kamala and she’s going to be excited when she gets to dress up as her favorite superhero

when you guys are out with your costumes she’s constantly raving on how cute they are and how you have the best costumes

already talks about next years costumes when the night is barely over

𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔

you surprise him with the costumes when they’re finally finished and are ready for him to see

he’s caught off guard by them, not being prepared for you presenting him with matching costumes, even though he knows halloween is coming up and you were bound to do something for it

he’s always down to try new things, so instead of dismissing and ignoring the outfits, he’ll embrace them and get excited to when you both can wear them out together

even if you guys don’t go out and do something he’ll still find dressing up in the costumes and doing whatever you guys do fun

as long as the costumes aren’t incredibly cheesy and dumb

when you suggest dressing up as tom and jerry he’s completely against it after you had to explain to him what it was

ends up going out in the costume anyway because he can’t bring himself to turn you down when you seem excited, even if it’s because of him being humiliated

will look into doing it again next year, but has to have a say in the costumes from here on out and won’t be afraid to turn any ideas down; he let you have your fun this year

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓

has a million costume ideas you guys can do together

from peanut butter and jelly to two of the ninja turtles this man has everything you wouldn’t have even considered in a million years covered

takes this more seriously than some major school assignments

if you turn down all the ideas he has he’ll just go and come up with more until you eventually agree to one

has multiple color palettes to choose from for the costumes to make it to your liking

takes so many pictures of you two in the costumes

you will find him enthusiastically showing off the costume to other people and motioning to you from across the room as he talks

will want to make it an annual thing from this point on after you two got so much positive feedback

he wants to go everywhere with the costumes on; into every store and restaurant just to show them off happily leading the way as you trail behind him

you have to force him to take it off and put on regular clothes at the end of the night when he’s very reluctant to take the costume off

𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂

you both dress as the dumbest things you could possibly find

you walk around spirit halloween to find something and she grabs everything she sees

there’s a point where you find a mask and you walk up behind her to scare her with it

she screams inside the store, almost punching you and you have to quickly shush her and pull the mask off to show her that you’re not a murderer under it

she just stares at you with an open mouth and wide eyes before she starts to laugh asking why you would do that between the laughs

you practically try on half the store, forgetting you’re there to find costumes to actually go out with

she comes out of the dressing room with tears in her eyes from how hard she’s laughing when you put on peppa pig costumes you found

you two almost get kicked out of the store when she knocks over accessories on a shelf and has to rapidly put everything back

picks out the most random accessories that don’t go with the costumes at all

you stay in the store until it closes and you have to rush to check out the costumes you eventually decide on

you both go out drinking and have a good time in the costumes that you eventually get

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑴𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒌

doesn’t really see the point of matching costumes since he won’t even be able to see what you look like, but caves when he can tell that you really want to

questions little tiny accessories that you have to clip on for him

you mess with him saying the costume is neon pink and his eyes visibly widen for a second before he realizes that you’re messing with him

will find himself smiling the whole night especially when people comment on the costumes

talks you up and gives you all the credit for the costumes if people ask about them

you purposely make his costume pants extra tight (for no apparent reason)

the little whore knows you did it on purpose too and will make you regret it

“accidentally” keeps dropping his glasses and bending down to pick them up

you offer to pick them up for him but he insists that he’s fine doing it himself

causes multiple instances in where he has to walk in front of you for something

he’s such a whore.

𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

picks out all the details for the costumes

she says every accessory makes a difference, no matter how small the detail is

the costumes are so tight they might as well just be painted on

makes the costumes identical to each other, with just the color of them being slightly different

walks in like she owns the place with your rightful place next to her

won’t let you leave her side for the whole time when you’re both wearing your costumes

she says you both have to be seen together with the costumes at all times or the magic will disappear

just smiles at you when you tell her you have to go to the bathroom and she motions for you to lead the way

you just sigh knowing you won’t be able to do anything about it and if she follows you into the bathroom she follows you into the bathroom

now you’re stuck with her and every year you’re going to be in the same boat you’re in now

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

you both spend time planning the costumes figuring out what you’re going to be and the design on how they’re going to look

you make a joke of you both going as witches and apparently the idea just stuck so now you’re designing different witch costumes you both can wear

makes the costumes as cliche as possible with the pointy hats and brooms

gives you a pointed look when you hold a broom up to her and she doesn’t grab it at first but then can’t help but let out a laugh as she grabs it

she even makes her costume have red highlights throughout it

will talk in the cliche witches voice

you’ll be getting a drink or washing your hands and she’ll come up behind you with her hands out and fingers bent

“i’ll get you my pretty”

it actually scares you because you’re not expecting it

you whip your body around, about to attack the intruder behind you when you just see wanda there and she starts laughing at your reaction

she draws the line at the cackle you ask her to do

at one point you run around on your brooms, zooming through different people

makes sure to stay home earlier in the night so she can pass out candy to trick or treaters

all photos used were found on pinterest ❤️

buy me a coffee ♡

[maneskinwh0re]

“you want me to break you.” ~ fem loki laufeyson x fem reader

one shot, smut, 18+

this is porn with a plot. freak level 100. 3.4k words. yes, i’m ovulating. cw: 18+ dom!loki, fem!loki, loki x reader, begging, edging, teasing, embarrassment k!nk, knife play, cuffs, blood, praise, degradation, punishment kink, semi-public sex

read at your own risk babes. first time writing smut and my hormones did not hold back !! idk if i like this or not lol but i have more in the works xo

“tear you apart” by ‘she wants revenge’ while you read >:)

cred to loki concept artists - got these pics from insta and pinterest like a year ago

----------------------------------------

location: asgard

you pace the golden palace halls as you wait for thor and the warrior’s three to return. it’s been a few hours now, and your mission is only a simple weapons transfer across realms. once everything is in order, you plan to return to midgard, aka earth, and assist the avengers in whatever is next on the heroes’ roster. the sun has set and multiple asgardian moons are shining bright lights across the galaxy’s sky.

the sound of light steps echo the hallway as you walk, until you decide to lean against one of the wide, golden pillars that reach up to the high ceiling. with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes for a moment, wondering how much longer thor is going to take in the council meeting. when you open your eyes, thor’s sibling is staring at you only a few yards away, leaning on an opposing pillar. your startled gasp made her smirk, her emerald green eyes never leaving yours.

loki has heard stories of the midgardian avenger, often by eavesdropping on thor’s babbles of his “heroic adventures.” and you’ve heard stories of her, but often spoke with negative qualities through tony stark’s gritted teeth. you have never seen the goddess in person. her dark hair falls on her shoulders and a dark green corset hugs her hourglass figure. she wears black pants and tall black boots that reach her thighs. a fluffy, light-gray coat drapes over her while the tall horns on her golden helmet curve upward. she definitely looks like a goddess, but you internally curse yourself for the thoughts you have of the villain.

she slowly toys with a dagger in one of her slender hands until she finally speaks.“hello, mortal,” her voice is smooth, fit for a princess.

“loki,” you nod, crossing your arms over your chest. you know you shouldn’t be conversing with her. hopefully she’ll leave you alone if you ignore her gaze long enough.

loki sees your ignorance to be a challenge, of course, so she walks closer. “may i ask what you’re doing in asgard?” her tone is sweet as she raises an eyebrow curiously.

you inhale slowly as you think of a response. how much does she know?how much should she know? you assume not much and that you should keep it that way.

keeping it vague, you reply, “um, well…i’m here for a mission, under the avengers initiative.”

loki smiles sweetly as she stops in front of you. “mission? avengers initiative? oh my, how cute.”

you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach over loki’s closeness. “it’s classified.”

“classified?” loki hums, looking down at you. “do you wish to tell me more? i’m very curious, y/n. just between the both of us, of course…” she leans closer, putting the dagger she was playing with in her thigh holster in order to give you her undivided attention.

“i’m terribly sorry, your majesty,” you reply in a sarcastic tone, smoothing out the fabric of your black training suit. “but i’m afraid i cannot disclose any more information.” you straighten your posture against the pillar and find some enjoyment as you tease loki. “not unless i could get…something in return.”

she thinks to herself with a smirk, then raises an eyebrow. “ah, something in return? what is this something that you expect me to give you, mortal?”

“again,” you whisper, looking her up and down. “classified.”

“you know, mortal, it’s really unfair if you don’t tell me anything whilst i’m standing here with such curiosity. i want to know,” she leans in closer, her lips brushing your ear. “what is this classified information you are hiding from me, darling?”

you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of loki’s cold breath on your ear and neck, her scent of rain and oak filling your nose. she pulls back as her hand moves to your chin and turns your face to look up at her. your eyes flick open as she forces you to look up into her dominant gaze.

“it’s not worth your valued time, your majesty,” you breathe, speaking honestly. “only a weaponry transfer across realms. nothing more.”

loki’s fingers slowly move down to the zipper on the front of your skin-tight black suit. “nothing more? what if we make this mission a little more personal?” she asks flirtatiously as her hand begins to pull at the end of the zipper.

a moment of clarity hits as you realize you are both still in the open hallway. your lips part as you breathe heavily, grabbing loki’s hand to pause her movement. you look left and right, searching for any working guards or wandering civilians.

“what if someone-” you begin to ask worriedly until loki backs you behind another nearby pillar.

“that is why you’re going to be quiet for me,” loki whispers against your neck, her free hand beginning to roam. “no one will see you but me.”

she continues to try to unzip your suit, ignoring your hand lingering on the back of hers as her fingertips brush against your skin. “you need to be a good girl for me and let me unzip it…”

you start to focus on your breathing once again. you keep your hand on loki’s wrist but your resistance lightens, allowing her to move your suit’s zipper lower until the fabric falls slightly off your shoulder. loki’s fingers and thumb brush against your bare skin under the suit, teasing you until her lips coat light kisses across your collarbone.

“good girl…let me undress you, darling. you’re mine after all.”

a soft whimper escapes your lips as you allow her to remove your black suit. she helps guide your arms out of the sleeves and lets the top half of the suit roll down to your hips. a shiver runs up your spine as the cold night air hits your skin. loki’s gaze darkens as her hungry eyes lower to your breasts.

“gods, you’re so beautiful…,” she praises as her hands caress your thighs and slowly work their way up your torso. “yet so fragile. i could break you in half.”

“then do so,” your voice shakes as your hands tangle in loki’s dark hair, tugging on it slightly. “break me, princess.”

something inside loki snaps instantly as soon as those three needy words leave your mouth. she pushes herself against you as her lips latch to yours in a passionate kiss, gentle and warm at first, until her tongue enters your mouth as her hands travel up and down your thighs, squeezing them tightly. after a few moments, she starts biting and pulling at your bottom lip with her teeth.

the way loki kisses you brings up a moan from the back of your throat, a sound that only drives her crazier. her lips leave yours and you immediately try to catch your breath. she then bites down on your neck, leaving marks and hickeys that will only darken in time. you feel a drowsy heaviness pull your head back, resting against the pillar as loki pants into the nape of your neck.

your hand trails up loki’s arm and shoulder until you reach one of the horns on her golden helmet. you tug on one of the horns, subconsciously trying to pull her head downward for a moment before you realize what you’re doing.

“y/n,” loki warns, biting harder as one hand grips your waist and the other pulls your right thigh up to her side. she presses her hips against yours, grinding hard as she resumes suffocating you with open-mouthed kisses. your body tenses at the pressure, moving your hips in hopes to find more friction.

“loki…please,” you groan as soon as her tongue temporarily leaves your mouth. your fingers tug at her green and gold armor, craving her body even if that means you’d have to pry every layer of her clothing off yourself.

loki lets you move and squirm, all while still holding your right thigh against her left hip. she slips her free hand under your suit to start rubbing slow circles on your clit through the silky fabric of your underwear, bringing another whimper from your mouth.

“you want me to break you?” loki whispers into your ear, continuing the many pecks and bites to your neck. she sucks slightly on your collarbone until your nails are practically digging into her corseted waist. “such a naughty girl. let me punish you…”

you can feel yourself grow wetter with every filthy word that leaves her lips. you look up into her eyes and nod as a consensual gesture for her to be rougher with you, not being able to wait any longer.

“punish me, loki…please.”

“that’s it, darling,” she lowers your thigh as she kisses down your body until she is kneeling in front of you, her hands caressing every one of your curves as she moves. she then roughly pulls the rest of your suit down your legs until it pools at your ankles. her thumb resumes the achingly slow movements to your clit through your underwear as her fingers press against the dampening fabric covering your vagina.

“f-fuck,” you curse as both your hands grip the horns on loki’s helmet, using it to stable your legs’ weakening balance.

“easy, dear,” she says. “watch that pretty mouth of yours, or i’ll put it to good use.”

“i…” you breathe, trying to form an argument back, but loki’s thumb starts to move faster before you can think to stop yourself from cursing again. “oh- fuck!”

“ah, you little brat.”

she then quickly rips off your panties and stands up abruptly. she grabs your jaw and forces two fingers into your mouth. you don’t hesitate to shamelessly suck on her fingers. they’re in for only a moment before she pulls them out and wets her thumb with her own tongue. she then lowers her hand and you feel those same two fingers being pushed inside your wet cunt.

a pained yell escapes your mouth until it’s muffled by her free hand. her thumb resumes rubbing circles on your clit at a quicker pace than before, helping the ache turn to painful pleasure.

“shh, remember what i told you, hm? i said you need to be quiet for me,” loki shushes you. your legs are already struggling to support your body while the knot in your stomach grows.

your whimpers and moans are muffled by loki’s slender hand, forcing you to control your breathing through your nose. her thick gold rings are cold against your cheeks. both your hands grip her wrist, inhaling and exhaling unsteadily as your eyes catch the dagger sheathed in her thigh holster. when loki realizes what you’re looking at, she pauses her movements with a smirk and pins both of your wrists to the pillar above your head, not even bothering to wipe or suck your juices off her fingers. you let out a frustrated groan over your delayed release and squeeze your thighs together, feeling embarrassed on how loki caught onto what you were eyeing.

“how cute,” she whispers against your lips, her taunting tone and cold breath flowing into your open mouth. “is that how you want to get punished, my adorable slut?”

you press your lips together to stop yourself from whimpering again, only having the ability to nod in response. loki moves her fingers down to the holster and removes the knife. she then brings it up to your throat and presses the side of the blade against it. the threat is somehow arousing in a way you have never felt before. you wonder how far you’re willing to go. then wonder how far the villain is willing to go…

“do it, then,” you say with a challenging tone and a raised brow, half confident that loki is bluffing. part of you hopes she isn’t. “you won’t, princess.”

“oh, yeah?” loki looks playfully offended, tilting her head to the side as she studies your nervous breaths. her lips form a sly smirk on her face as she trails the cold blade down, past her leftover bite marks and down to your chest. she presses the blade against your skin harder, not quite drawing blood, but definitely causing enough pain for you to try to maneuver yourself away. “how about i carve the letters of my name right here across your breasts, you little brat?”

you suck your teeth as the pain grows. you squirm in loki’s grasp and lick your lips. “once again,” you chuckle softly and smirk back up at her. if you are going to do this, part of the fun is the fight. “you won’t do it.”

loki’s lips form a slightly cruel smile. a thin, red line appears on your skin, causing you to hiss out a groan. the pain doesn’t get any easier as you feel a bit of warm blood trickle down your breast before another line is slowly carved, creating an “L” shape on your lower chest. loki goes to continue the three remaining letters, but your struggle to stay still makes her pause. she uses her magic to create green, transparent restraints out of thin air, keeping your wrists pinned to the pillar before teasingly pressing the tip of the blade to the center of your sternum.

“is that all the punishment you can handle for now, little brat? are you gonna stay still for me now?” loki lifts your chin with the end of the dagger, watching you find the strength to nod and recover slowly. you try to ignore the painful reality carved into the skin of your breast. while you don’t yet regret challenging loki’s bluff, it still hurts like hell—like a good hurt…for now at least. you nod in answer to loki’s question before looking at her lips. she reads your expression, understands your nonverbal request, and willingly gives herself to you.

she hums into the kiss, a moan following shortly after as you lift a knee and push it up between her legs. her tongue enters the kiss as she throws the dagger aside, the clattering noise loudly echoing through the hallway. both of her pale hands cup your face, expressing how gentle she now wants to treat your fragile body.

you try to move your arms to hold her closer, caress her curves, tangle your fingers in her hair—anything, but you can only tug at the restraints created by her witchcraft abilities. “lo…,” you pant between kisses in her grasp.

loki notices, but doesn't care. she continues to enjoy caressing your face and body for a few more moments. her hands finally travel lower until her damp fingers reach your sensitive nerves, your aching cunt still craving the delayed orgasm from earlier.

“beg for it,” she coos as her fingers tease your entrance, coating her digits with your wetness.

“loki,” you protest, bucking your hips up slightly in hopes for resumed friction.

“don’t make me repeat myself.” loki’s tone is stern. her free hand squeezes one of your breasts and pinches your nipple, bringing another pained moan from the depths of your throat. you felt so weak already, but loki intends to fuck you as long as you can still stand.

“please, princess. i…i’m begging you. p-please,” you whimper, your back arching against the golden pillar as you continue to squirm under loki’s teasing grasp.

loki grins at the sound of your little whimpers and begs as her thumb adds pressure to your clit. “don’t you dare move now, darling, not until your princess decides you can cum. you understand?”

“yes, lo…” you gasp as she pushes two fingers into your wet cunt. you so badly want to continue to squirm and beg, but you know better now to follow commands to stay still and quiet. your chest unsteadily heaving up and down is the only movement loki allows as her digits pump in and out of you at a slow pace. “m-more…”

her smirk widens at your stuttered request, moving her fingers faster as her mouth reconnects with yours, swallowing every whorish sound you make as she fucks you. your eyes squeeze shut and your jaw locks, trying not to hiss curses through clenched teeth. your faint words are stuttered between soft, breathy moans. “loki…oh, god- i…i’m-”

“i know, my dear. i’m right here. gods, you feel so good wrapped around my fingers…just in a panting mess like this,” loki whispers seductively as her fingers continue to move faster and faster. she kisses the skin beneath your ear between praises. her grip on your breast tightens as she presses her body against you. her pace is perfect. it is all too much, yet not enough.

loki’s lips kiss your cheek before whispering in your ear. “cum for me, darling…”

her thumb presses hard against your clit, and at her words, your body follows her command. the tightness in your abdomen unknots as you release a high-pitched moan that causes a greater effect on loki than you know. she is practically soaked from watching your pleasured reactions. she does not rush you to open your thighs as you ride out your orgasm against her palm. she enjoys the feeling of her hand trapped between them…as well as the thought of what it would be like for her face to be in her hand’s place instead. her kisses are gentle and slow, finding a steady rhythm to allow you breaks in between to catch your breath.

“you’re such a good girl. doing exactly what she’s told.”

the restraints above your head fade away, and you practically melt into loki’s arms. your head feels as light as a feather and every nerve in your body is relaxed. you feel loki’s palm on your breast, resting over the “L” she cut into your skin. a comfortable silence falls between you two as you lazily wonder why her hand is subtly glowing. you know you will never be able to explain how she heals you, even as you watch the tingly green magic flowing from her palm into your sore muscles. once she removes her hand, it’s like there is no trace of the injury, to the point where you almost ask if it was ever there. loki brushes a strand of hair away from your face and kisses the bridge of your nose. with a single motion of her fingers, your black training suit is rolling up until it is snug on your body, with no trace of her hungry hands pulling at the fabric minutes prior.

as if on cue, you hear the double doors at the end of the hall open, making an unmistakable creaking sound notifying you the council meeting is over. stomping noises of guards lined in pairs and the confident voice of thor reverbs off the walls, causing you and the goddess to shrink further behind the wide golden pillar.

as you smooth out your hair, she adjusts her helmet and attempts to play with the small weapons in your belt. you swat her hand away as thor, odin, and rows of asgardian keepers pass by, sounds of their armor clanging and clashing.

thor’s words boom above all the noise to instruct a young palace maid to fetch you from your chambers, where you’ve supposedly been told to wait during the meeting. steps at the volume of a mouse scurry off towards the direction of your quarters.

as soon as all footsteps recede, loki’s arms wrap around your waist from behind and cling tight, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“surely, you’re not leaving for midgard now. are you, darling?” she pouts.

you chuckle for a moment until you realize she is serious. “i do have to go, princess.”

“and there is no way i could…convince you to stay?” she purrs, nibbling at your ear.

“i know you could, and that’s why i need to leave now before you get the chance,” your voice is soft and teasing. “but if there is another…weaponry transfer…i’ll make sure to travel along.”

the goddess of mischief reads your honest facial expression and kisses you. a gentle goodbye.

“that’s my good girl.”

---------------------------------------

as much time as i spent working on this…i don’t like it >:(

my wife deserves better smut than this smh

requests are open babes <3

-bee xx

[mischiefmaker615]

Eat

Summary: Loki finds himself in a dark state.

Requested by: Laer111ee (wattpad)

Rating: *WARNING* mentions of depression, and $u*cidal thoughts

 

“You have to eat.’’

Loki’s eyes didn’t even flicker up at you as his fork mindlessly moved around his food. You knew he heard you as you sit across from him with your own plate, but he continues to not further the subject.

It was a delicate time.. his mood swings per say..

You knew he already felt bad for not eating the food you worked decently hard on to make, which didn’t help the already current state he has found himself in for the past several days of worsening depression. At least he had you as a support system and both of you moving into your own apartment has definitely helped since living with “earth’s mightiest heroes” has done a number on his mood already. Yet you worry..

The battle on New York is over, and due to a ton of begging from Thor to let Loki stay under house arrest at the tower to avoid severe Asgardian punishment- death, the Avenger’s obliged with only a few times of “community service” in the field in which special bracelets were made to contain a bit of his magic when it’s needed to be used. He was a really great help and his magic made most of our fights against hydra and a ton of others definitely shorter. You and him even got some one on one sparring sessions and mini missions and low and behold, decided to start going out.. from limited means since he still was under watch.

its was years now, SHIELD still has him wear the bracelets that he currently likes to pull at periodically without even realizing it sometimes. With begging on your part, you lived in this cute apartment not to far away from the Avenger’s tower, and with doing your best with the limited means, you both have been happy. Yet recently his mood has changed. Sometimes he doesn’t wish to get out of bed, even if he was wide awake. Sometimes the smallest things could set him off where he would either yell or accidently break something with his god strength- forgetting Midgardian furniture isn’t built like it is in Asgard. And quite recently, he’s refused to eat a whole meal and now he hardly eats at all.

Being a god, he can go far longer than humans.. but with the amount of time that’s passed, you were sure it was concerning even for someone like him to go on this long with only like two bites and then he was finished.. he was scaring you, you worried for him and whether he realized it or not, you had to prep the house encase any.. initial thoughts would come along..

Getting Thor involved was out of the question, he hated anyone that was related to the new York battle- which happened to be all of your friends but to hang out with them, you were to scared to leave Loki alone so it really put a damper on your mood as well. The apartment was mostly quiet, worrying what would be said or done to set off either of you but sometimes it was just the fact knowing you both were around each other- verbal or not, was comforting.

Yet this eating thing has gone far enough and your already lean boyfriend was becoming noticeably more lean as time went by.

Setting down your fork, you slowly rose and crossed over to pull the seat out next to Loki to have a seat- his eyes barely resisting your movements as he continued to move around his vegetables.

After a moment of silence, you gently placed a hand on his and he stopped moving, the fork slowly sliding from his fingers.

‘’Loki..’’ you began, your voice quiet as your eyes glued to his face with a gentle expression.

The only response he gave you was a small nod- one would miss it if they weren’t paying attention.

‘’I know there are a lot of things on your mind, a lot of thoughts that are sparking new ones, ideas and assumptions. It’s been a few days since you’ve had a proper amount of food, and that’s okay’’ you add and squeeze his hand a little as he gave a small sigh.

‘’what can I do to help? Even if it’s just an ear if you wish to talk things out out loud..’’

Loki stayed silent for a moment, staring mindlessly at his plate but no focus in his gaze. As if someone was forever zoned out and his hand was limp when you held it. his skin was cold- colder actually. You didn’t rush him, you just waited as your thumb gently stroked his skin, staring at his beautiful face you loved so much and stayed quiet as you focused on his slow breathing.

Parting his lips slowly, he sighed another hopeless sigh we’ve all had when there was no point to anything. Where we have been at our lowest and wanted to quit whatever we were doing right then and there. Happiness was dead at this time and light was no option in this type of tunnel we found ourself lost in.

‘’I’m a failure..’’ he barely whispered, his words breaking your heart as tears formed in his eyes once more.

‘’Loki you’re not a-‘’

‘’my whole life is a lie.. it would have been better if I would have just perished as an infant on Jotunheim and all this wouldn’t have happened’’ he said between sobs, his hands forming fists on the table in which you had to quickly pull your hand away but instead rested it on top.

He has found himself comfortable in your relationship to tell you about his upbringing, the betrayal, the lies, Odin, all of it. but he’s always spoke out of hatred.. this was the firs time he’s actually shown sorrow upon the subject. It broke your heart seeing him like this, and you knew you were important to him in your life where he’ll need you more than ever in these moments. You will not abandon him.

You slowly rose from your chair and went to his own, bringing his head to your chest as you wrapped your arms around him, his face turning slightly to continue to cry into your chest while you stroked his silky hair.

‘’Loki.. I can’t tell you how much it pains me and angers me of what has happened to you, you deserved none of it and you did everything to the best of your abilities to make things right with the best intentions. Not everyone will be able to see the reason, it doesn’t mean what you did was wrong..’’ you kept the part of murder out, figuring it wasn’t the best time to revisit that topic as you spoke slowly and in a hushed tone as his sobs began to quiet.

‘’if people fail to see your good intentions and continue to be selfish, hypocritical and blind to their own actions, then- blood or not- are they really worth having in your life..’’

‘’I don’t.. want to be alone..’’ he whispered as his arms hold you closer to him, almost making you fall into his lap as you hold him tighter.

‘’you’re never alone Loki, I’m here and I’ll never leave you.’’ you whisper and pull away a little to be able to cup his cheeks and have him look at you, your thumbs wiping away his tears as your expression becomes serious.

Memories of two weeks ago poked at your mind, how you almost lost him once if you hadn’t gotten to him in time. the fear always hits your heart whenever you saw him like this, afraid he may do it again. It just meant he needs you more than ever and with the right guidance. It just takes time.

‘’sometimes what you’re thinking..’’ you didn’t have the heart to say it as tears pricked your eyes but you took a deep breath. ‘’sometimes that seems like it’s the easiest answer.. but it’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem.’’ You whisper, bending down a little to kiss him, his lips kissing you back with almost a desperate, eagerness.. as if he hasn’t seen you in ages.

You shared this moment, stroking his hair and back before pulling away, seeing how his tears had subsided though he still looked drained. Sitting in his lap now, you picked up his fork and brought it to his lips.

‘’how about.. if you could finish just a few bites, we could go to bed and just hold each other?’’

Loki’s eyes slowly looked at the food, showing no interest in it but looked back into your eyes at what he could have if he did. A small smile- a mischievous one just barely tugged at his lips as he sighed. ‘’just hold each other?’’

You couldn’t help but smile, a bit of his old self peaking out of his depressed state. It’s a start. ‘’we’ll see.’’ You tease and brought the fork forward.

And by the gods, he ate. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [2]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A massive thank you to the amazing @midgardian-witch for being the best and proofreading this nonsense and another huge thank you to the wonderful @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, choking, biting, hand job, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is getting his ass handed to him), swearing, Blue crying, p in v sex (Blue fucks another dancer at the beginning), please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer.

Word Count: 2679

Rouged Lips in the Gaslight

Trixie was bent over the arm of the velvet sofa in Blue’s office, sharing its colour with the name of its owner. 

He hadn’t even bothered to fully undress himself or her. Just hiking up her short skirt (the same one she had been wearing for her routine half an hour ago) and pushing her underwear to the side while he unzipped his fly. 

She felt good, she always did. Warm, tight, and the sounds she was making alone, enough to make a porn star blush, should have been doing it for Blue. 

But they weren’t. And it was the fucking seventh time in barely two days. 

Every time he tried to get off it just didn’t work. He’d tried all the classics, combinations of his personal favourites, different dancers, different positions, different times of day, anything he could think of. 

He got hard, sure. Hell, that was the problem to begin with, he was horny. Fucking desperate to come. It just never happened. 

“Blue, fuck, please!” Trixie’s moans increased, getting louder as she neared her high. 

He picked up his pace, thrusting harder, tightening his grip on her hips and slamming her back to meet his; trying to satisfy that itch that just would not be scratched. 

He snarled, closed his eyes, and -  you with one hand on his throat and the other wrapped around his dick squeezing as you bit his lip until it bled. His blood on your mouth as you kissed him possessively, laying claim to him as he came; ruining him for anyone else. 

Trixie screams as she comes, snapping Blue annoyingly back to reality. 

It feels good, the way her cunt squeezes and flutters. Usually, that would be more than enough to bring him to his peak, to make him pump her pretty pussy full of him. He just can’t get there. 

He sighs in frustration, sweat on his forehead as he pulls out and quickly stuffs his painfully hard cock back into his trousers. 

Trixie breathes hard, a little dazed and shaky as she stands. There’s a little frown of confusion on her face, any hope that she hadn’t noticed Blue’s lack of orgasm quickly dissolving. 

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. But it does. 

“Get the fuck out.” 

His voice is hard and cold and Trixie doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He sits on his desk when the door closes and runs his hands over his face. This was getting fucking ridiculous. He was Blue fucking Jones for god’s sake. He couldn’t let anyone, especially you, one of his dancers, his property, do this to him. 

He breathed out roughly and stood again, his mind made up. It was just a little blip, nothing more than that. He just needed to show you who was boss, bend you over and fuck you until you begged him to stop. That would fix all of this. 

.

You sigh loudly as you finally find the correct gloves. They’re a deep scarlet, the only remaining matching pair that goes with the outfits of the seven other backup dancers. When Gorski told you they were in the tiny storage closet on the upper levels you had to bite your tongue to stop the groan that had threatened to escape. 

The storage closet was a mess to put it politely, random junk just dumped in there when there was nowhere else to put it. It was only because Blue had wanted Song Bird to have eight backup dancers for the routine, when for the past three weeks it had been seven. 

The gloves are a little battered, but nothing that would be noticeable to the patrons of the club, not when you were up on the stage anyway. 

You catch your reflection in the full length mirror that is jammed a little haphazardly in the corner. For a second the gloves in your hand look like blood. 

You put away the things you pulled out as best you can, not such an easy task in the mayhem mess, and turn to the door. 

Your hand barely grazes the cool metal of the handle before it’s wrenched out of your grasp as it’s flung open. 

Panic grips your heart and you visibly jump back just about managing to keep the little yelp of surprise that wants to escape quiet. 

And when your eyes land on the figure in the doorway, you’re more than glad you did. 

Blue glares at you, his eyes dark and shining in the dim light. He has a small, tight smile on his face. One of those practised expressions he wears at the club when he’s charming customers. 

He closes the door behind him, not taking his eyes off you and stalks forward, expecting you to back away. 

You hold your ground, annoyance fizzling in your blood at the gall he has to try to intimidate you and for a second you forget yourself. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

He pauses mid-step, blinking before he tries to pull that mask of superiority back on. “That’s not a very nice way to greet me now, is it?” He spits. 

“What are you doing here?” You repeat, your tone firm and fierce, unimpressed by how he bristles and tries to square up to you. 

“I own this place, and everything and one in it.” He leans close, his hot breath hitting your face. “I can go wherever I like.” 

You hold his gaze for one long moment before you swallow and step ceremoniously to the side, planning to walk past him. 

Blue matches your step, blocking your path. “What are you doing in here?” 

You hold up the gloves. “For Song Bird’s routine.” 

He stares at your hands for a moment, picturing you in the backup dancers' outfits. His throat bobs as he swallows before he grits his jaw. He had to focus. Had to get you out of his system. 

“What do you want, Blue?” Your voice is firm and sure, covering up the spike of uncertainty that has settled in your chest. 

He pauses, finally glancing up from the gloves to your face. Though now that he is looking directly at you it feels worse, blistering to be under the intensity of his gaze. He licks his lips. “You.”  

You stay quiet. 

“Just you.” He repeats, taking a step forward and placing a hand firmly on your shoulder. He pushes you back into the row of hanging clothing forcefully and leans close as the gloves slip from your hand. “You know, I thought you were just a scared little Bunny I could have some fun with, but you’re not.” He growls.

You swallow, fear swimming in your stomach, mixing with a dizzying haze of emotion. 

“You’re… dangerous. A Lion in rabbit’s clothing.” He mutters, tracing his fingers lightly along your jawline. 

Instinctively you smack his hand away. 

He grins at your gall. “You know… I’ve hurt people a lot more important than you for less.” He whispers. 

“Then why don’t you?” 

Blue pauses, his expression frozen on his face like a tableau, a tiny spark of uncertainty flickers into life behind his eyes. “I don’t… want to right now.”

“Liar.” 

He scowls. “Listen-”

“No, you listen.” You grab a hold of him, placing your hand firmly over his mouth and pinching his cheeks. 

His eyes widen, darken as arousal burns along his veins. 

You have no idea what’s gotten into you, why you’re doing this again. He could kill you on a whim, a snap of his fingers and a flick of his head would be all it took for his goons to empty their clips into your chest. 

Still, it seems like you’re in too deep now to change directions. 

You push him back a little, giving yourself some breathing space. “You don’t want to hurt me because you want me to hurt you.” 

He swallows, his throat bobbing. His hands still at his sides, making no effort to even wriggle out of your hold. 

You lean a little closer, echoing his teasing tone from before. “You like it.” 

There is the tiniest hitch of his breath and it’s all the reassurance you need. 

When he doesn’t respond quickly enough for your liking you squeeze a little tighter, feeling the imprint of his molars through his cheeks as you nod his head up and down. 

“There we go, did no one teach you it was rude not to answer a question?” You loosen your hold on him, revelling in the red impressions left on his skin. It shouldn’t thrill you, shouldn’t excite you. 

You trail your fingers along his jaw, running your thumb over his plump bottom lip and he shudders, closing his eyes for a second as he fights the urge to grab your arm and pull you closer. 

Instead he darts out his tongue, swiping it lightly over the tip of your thumb and groaning. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

The snarl in your voice makes his eyes snap open, makes him open his mouth for a frantic apology. 

The second his lips part you push your thumb inside, pressing down on his warm tongue to silence him. 

He startles, eyes going wide for a second as he grabs hold of your wrist instinctively. But the second his mind catches up with your actions he doesn’t pull back, only presses closer. 

He groans around your thumb, running his tongue along the length as he pushes his body flush against yours, grinding his aching cock against your leg. 

He’s so hard, throbbing as he rubs against you. A small whimper echos from his throat. 

You bite your lip, a wave of arousal washing over you at the sight. “You’re so pathetic, you know that?” 

He moans louder, frantically nodding his head as he thrusts his hips, sucking on your thumb for all he was worth. He squeezes your wrist, wrapping his other arm around you to hold you in place. 

You pull your thumb from his mouth suddenly, smearing his salvia on his chin and grabbing hold of his throat as you push him back away from you. 

Blue whines, his forehead pinched in distress and hips bucking aimlessly, trying to seek out that delicious friction again. 

“Can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you?” You growl, loosening his tie and roughly pulling it free as you undo the top three of his shirt buttons. “Fucking pitiful.” 

“S-sorry.” He mumbles, biting his lip as he gazes at you. 

You smack his cheek lightly and he groans, the sensation striking down to his cock like lightning. He’s dazed for a second as you manhandle him, too wrapped up in the feel of your fingers digging into his skin to even have one coherent thought. 

You twist his tie around his wrists, binding them harshly before you gather the last of the material and wrap it around your right palm. 

He gasps as you step behind him, your chest pressed against his back, and grab hold of his neck, pulling his wrists up in the process. The material digs in, makes his skin sing and fingers throb. It’s like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Blue bites his lip again, trying to keep some of the obscene sounds to a minimum. He feels dizzy, lightheaded as you squeeze his neck and use your free hand to slide down his chest to his trousers. 

The amount of times he’d tied up others, whipped and beaten until they’d crying and begging and pleading. It had felt so good, so right. But this… god it was nothing compared to this. 

You sink your teeth into the side of his neck and he keens, his back bending. He gasps, shivers and tries to breathe deeply through the wonderful pain, but your grip on his neck tightens, pulls him back further under your control. And he nearly comes on the spot. 

You bite harder. Niping and sucking at his skin, only soothing with your tongue for the briefest moment. 

He squirms under your hold, pressing up against your mouth and whimpering nonsense. 

He cries out when you unbuckle his belt, unbutton his trousers and unzip his fly. His heart thuds under your hand as you let his trousers fall to the floor and push his boxers down his thighs. 

“Please, oh god,” he whines when you squeeze especially hard on his neck and then gasps when you wrap your hand around his leaking cock. “Lion,” he stretches the word, rolls it around in his mouth desperately as you jerk your hand, your pace hard and brutal. He follows with his hips as much as you let him, tightening around his neck and pulling him back against you if he moves too much. 

“Lion, please!” He sobs. 

You break your mouth away from his bruised skin to hiss in his ear. “Look at yourself, look at how pathetic you are.” You tug his neck, forcing him to look at himself in the floor-length mirror. He lets out a sob as his own reflection stares back. How flushed his skin is, how desperate his eyes look. The way he barely struggles. How hard he is, leaking and throbbing under your hand. 

“Lion,” tears build at the corner of his eyes, “please.” 

“You’re wretched, despicable, barely worth the energy it takes me to make you come.” You sneer. 

And Blue screams. 

The knot in his stomach twists, liquid fire running along his spine as your words push him violently over the edge. He comes hard, spurting all over the floor. The force of it even hitting the edge of the mirror as he jerks and bucks and cries under your hold. 

For a moment it’s like he’s floating, light and far away from himself. Warm and safe under your touch. 

You loosen your grip around him instantly, worried for a second that he’s passed out and then silently hating yourself for enjoying that idea so much. 

He stumbles a little without your firm hold, but you guide him back to sit on the edge of a large box. 

He breathes deeply, spaced out as you slowly unwrap his tie from around his hands. His wrists are red, fingers off colour. He shivers slightly, his trousers still around his ankles. You pause, questioning if you’d be able to get him standing to do them back up without Blue falling over. 

Instead you turn to pull out a long, fluffy coat that had been used in a dance months ago to drape around him. 

He softly grabs your forearm as you turn, the touch a stark difference from earlier. 

“Please,” he looked up at you, his eyes hard and voice weak. “Don’t go.” 

The silence seems to hang for a long second. 

You swallow and take the coat off the hanger before wrapping him up. You squeeze his hand and move closer to him, intending to just stay a moment, but he grabs hold of your arms, pulls you closer still and buries his face into your stomach. 

He stays still for a moment, his fists tight as he hangs onto your shirt. 

You don’t know what to do, your hands hover in mid-air and… then his shoulders start to shake as he cries. 

“Hey, hey,” you lightly touch his head, running your hand through his short hair. “Hey,” you soothe and he looks up at you weakly. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles between sobs. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you squat down to his level and stroke his cheeks. There’s a whirlwind of emotions fighting in your chest. 

He shakes his head. “Did I… Did I make you angry?” 

“No, no.”

“Did I disappoint you?” His voice breaks at the last word, fresh tears streaming over his skin. 

You lean forward, kissing his lips gently, then his cheeks. 

He swallows, hiccuping from the sobs he’s trying to fight back. He kisses you back softly, reverently, his hands warm and gentle on your arms and back as he holds you close. 

What the fuck had you got yourself into? 

Thank you for reading!

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[abby118]

what’s your favorite and least favorite 2011-2013 loki outfits?

which of loki’s outfits would you most like to wear?

I don't think I could possibly pick a least favourite, but I will talk about the details in his costume design I love the most.

And before I get to the tangential rant, to answer your question- I think my favourite is the TDW one and I'd wear his prison outfit (it looks so comfortable!).

Now, let's talk about the details:

I think one of my most favourite is the overall symbolism we see in his outfits.

-I'm sure you already know about this one, but the inspiration behind the shape of his collar being the faux calla lily is a great example. (X) (concept art by Charlie Wen)

-the triquetras! There are so many triquetras seen on Asgard and Loki's got them too. (X)

-the helmet: Apart from the fact Loki and Thor's helmet designs, when combined, make up Odin's helmet design (X), I love the difference between the horns in Thor 1 and The Avengers and how well it goes with the theme of the story.

-then there's the Jörmungandr & Fenrir symbolism in his armour seen in The Avengers (and the overall complexity of it!)

-I really like the layers / the "serpentine like design":

-I find the colour scheme of his costume very fitting (and they're my favourite colours)

-the golden piece on his chestplate is just such a good recurring motif

-(X)

-and what I find interesting is the amount of gold we see in each movie and its meaning:

His Thor 1 armour is very sleek and elegant. Almost appearing untouched.

In The Avengers, it's much darker and worn. The gold we do see is mostly an illusion.

And in TDW, the gold is the most damaged. He still looks just as powerful, but you can tell he's been through something.

-I haven't even touched on the Midgardian outfits yet, but I think they reflect his elegance really well (tumblr only allows 30 images per post sooo X, X).

-about Loki's prison outfit: I would say, this is him at his most vulnerable and the choice of clothing does convey that. I also really like the reference of his sleeve design. (X)