#The testament of Loki | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bookofkatherine · 8 months ago

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Yes, Virginia, There Was a Time Variance Authority (TVA)

Variants really do exist.

Sunday August 25, 2024 11:21 a.m.

Dear Journal,

Last night the Chris Hemsworth who has watched over me since I was born was with my husband Nick trying to save the life of the newest member of The Order: Zach. I was helping aid him with my powers through the Dreamworld.

It was a lot of hard work. And it's still going now, although a few of us have been able to take a break and rest a little bit. Thank God.

But that begs the question:

"If that Chris Hemsworth was with you, then who the fuck joined Ed Sheeran on drums for his Singapore concert last night?"

Oh. You mean Hemsworth?

Three Thors: One Timeline

This is going to be old news for those of you who have been following The Order on Twitter since last December (the month Chris Hemsworth set up his drumming gig with Ed Sheeran, by the way).

But this is an important part of my life. I think it bears repeating. And it affects you too. I promise.

I have three Thors in my life.

And all of them are named Chris Hemsworth. Since all three live here on my land with me, I've adopted different nicknames for each to tell them apart: My Chris, Hemsworth and 2008 Chris.

I'm planning a post covering each of my three Thors in more detail, but here are the basics on each. You can think of them like triplets. They look alike, have very similar powers but if you are in love with them, you can tell them apart. (In my mind they are each very different from one another.)

My Chris - aka Otherside Chris, Original Chris and just plain Chris. This is the variant from my personal timeline. He was sent to the Otherside in March when killed during his attempt to destroy the Order. He's back now. 😉

Hemsworth - aka 900th Chris. When 'My Chris' was killed in March the 900th Chris Hemsworth variant was brought in to take his place here at home base.

2008 Chris - Born on a different timeline, this Thor was thrown by his brother Loki into a world that's nearly impossible to escape. We rescued him. The last year he remembers is 2008.

So, to answer your question about Saturday, August 24! Here is where each of the three Thors were:

My Chris - In an undisclosed hotel room with a large team of other Order members working to save the life of a young man named Zach.

Hemsworth - On stage with Ed Sheeran playing drums for the hit song Thinking Out Loud while 70,000 fans cheered.

2008 Chris - Here at my house guarding me against the Dark Armies.

Now, if you are a fairy, an angel or have worked for the Time Variance Authority (TVA) when it still existed, then the existence of the 3 Thors isn't mind boggling to you.

But! If it is, then let me clear a few things up for you.

The TVA

In short, the Time Variance Authority really exists existed.

Known as the TVA in most Marvel circles, the Time Variance Authority was just as terrifying as its other control-counterparts: the Matrix, the Adjustment Bureau and Spectre.

All four really existed. All four were destroyed this year by the Lord through myself (Eternity in the MCU) and the Order (think 'The Avengers').

And all four were created and developed by the Deceiver himself: Satan. Lucifer is not about sex, drugs and rock and roll. He's all about ashen landscapes devoid of all life. And he has used these four horrible agencies to control all life on Earth and around Creation in order to squeeze us into tiny boxes that never move.

But the Lord had us attack the Time Variance Authority (TVA) first. And no wonder. That thing was absolutely terrifying.

What is the TVA?

The TVA was Satan's attempt to control time itself. Instead, he ended up creating about 900 timelines in all over the last 7000 years. But what am I saying? I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let me break it down for you.

The absolute fastest way you can learn about the TVA is to watch the show LOKI. This timeline's Loki wrote LOKI based on his own experiences with the TVA and Gustaf and Jerry Weintraub produced it. I've watched both seasons at least three times in just the last few months. You don't even have to watch that many episodes of Season 1, though, to get a grip on what reality was only a few short months ago. It's quite sobering.

The second fastest way to learn about the TVA is to start watching fan videos or website about it. I wish I could explain it all to you, and I will try, but I will never do as good a job as Tom Hiddleston, Gustaf and Jerry Weintraub did when they created LOKI for you in the first place.

Satan's 'Sacred' Timeline: No Apocalypse

The TVA was created by fallen angels for Satan in order to prevent Judgement Day. Judgment Day, after all, is when the fallen angels quit having their fun on Earth. On that day, they will be judged and thrown into the Pit, also known as the Abyss.

If you don't know about the New Earth or the New Jerusalem, then you might think these fallen angels are out to help humanity. But they aren't. "All who are thirsty" are welcome to the New Earth. It's a means of escaping the destruction of this Earth.

And, like Noah's Ark, the Lord has sent a final ark to come and take those who wish to flee climate change/Judgement Day and head to the New Earth: the New Jerusalem. The Book of Revelation clearly describes the New Jerusalem as a large ship, 1400 miles wide and tall, that arrives with portals to the New Earth.

Well, the New Jerusalem was built in the middle of Australia and we picked it up years ago. We've sent billions to the New Earth through its portals. And they're still open. But not for much longer. (If you want to escape the 'heavenly fire' that's coming, aka 'severe radiation storm' I suggest you leave now, while you still can.)

And before you think a flying ship with a rainbow foundation can't possibly be 1400 miles wide and tall, take a look out your window. The Aurora Borealis have grown significantly these last four years, since the New Jerusalem arrived. And they are easily 1400 miles wide and tall - even bigger now. It's very easy for the Lord to build things that size...

Anyhow!

The TVA tried to prevent the Apocalypse by 'pruning' anyone who could bring it about. And this meant that they were not only deleting people who worked for the Lord, but they were violating the very laws of nature.

And that comes with a price. A heavy price.

In this case, time would try to heal itself by branching off into different timelines, allowing those pruned to live again. While Satan tried to kill a tree, let's say, the tree survived by digging its roots deep and sprouting up 10 more trees elsewhere. It branched off.

And then Satan ran off to chase down those branches.

In the end, the TVA said it wanted one "sacred timeline." But if you listen closely to what the TVA agents say in the show LOKI, what they're really aiming for is "control" instead of "chaos."

Well, that's what every socialist regime aims for. And socialism kills at a faster rate than Sharia law.

They claim to want safety for us all, when the safest place is in a jail cell or 'safe room.' Slaves can be considered 'safe' if kept in cages and fed, right? Prisoners too.

No - chaos is magical. It's like a flame. It dances. Time, if left alone, is a beautiful balance of both Order and Chaos.

The Result: A Multiverse of Madness

By creating so many different timelines, or 'branches,' a multiverse was born - not to be confused with the Sphere, a multiverse of millions of worlds that orbit Earth's universe of stars, galaxies and planets.

No, the Multiverse of Timelines is depicted in Marvel's Doctor Strange films. Earth and the Sphere remain constant throughout the various branches of time. But because they are different timelines, the story changes in each.

And thus, each branch has been named a universe. And the TVA has had to hunt down the Lord's prophets and saints and faithful angels over all the timelines - over the entire 'multiverse of madness' - in its effort to make just one timeline that never ends.

But!

Wizards, angels and fairies can travel IN BETWEEN these branches!!! Or at least, they did, when the TVA still existed.

When we destroyed the TVA, we went back to the Lord's original plan of just one timeline without a future. No one knows what's coming. Only the Lord.

Boy, that was a hard battle to win - creating it. Man, I'm glad that part of my life is over!!!

The Variants

And, as you can guess, multiple timelines/universes of the same world leads to multiple people with the same names. Each timeline has a Thor. And if there were 900 timelines in all at last count, then there have been as many as 900 Thors across the last 7000 years (the Fall in Eden happened 7000 years ago- Creation was much earlier than that).

That means that Thor has had about 900 "variants." I have variants. You have variants. We have all had variants on other timelines - unless, of course, you were born after June 24, 2024, when the TVA died.

Three Thor variants survived and live on this last and final timeline. Three Loki variants survived. And two Ryan Gosling (Gray Man) variants. (This turned my 16 Knights into 21. I am swamped.)

Speaking of Loki, since Tom Hiddleston is and was essential to the End of Days, he was pruned more than any other angel (aka 'god'). The TVA constantly calls Loki an evil god/angel, but if you pay close attention, the opposite is true.

Each Loki was pruned when they tried to do something good. Sylvie's Loki was pruned because she loved the Valkyrie. Another Loki was pruned because he thought he'd try and help the universe. Over and over again, Tom is pruned.

Well! There was a price for this. The more Satan and his TVA pruned Loki variants, the faster Time itself produced Loki variants in reaction.

As we see in the show LOKI, it produced a lot of different Lokis.

And, since so many magic folk were able to travel between timelines/universes, it was possible to move variants across a few timelines onto one single timeline.

And that's what happened with Thor.

Hemsworth was moved from the 900th timeline by Merlin onto my timeline after its own Chris was killed and sent to the Otherside. Merlin didn't tell me that, at the time. He just told me that Chris was back, and my health began to return.

I had begun to fade after my timeline's Thor left. I was deeply in love with Chris Hemsworth, and had been over hundreds of timelines. We were Romeo and Juliet, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, Alexander the Great and Esther... when he died I broke.

So Merlin began branch-hopping, going from timeline to timeline to find a Thor that hadn't sworn themselves to serve Lilith like My Chris had done. And there, on the 900th timeline, Merlin found the 900th Thor was pretty incredible. So he snapped him over to my bedside.

"Hey," he said when he saw me, and grabbed my hand. "This is Chris. I'm here." I grabbed his hand and breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't ask how he'd reached me, how he was back from the dead or why...

And My Chris looked on from the Otherside and choked. Eventually he couldn't stand it anymore and wrote a bunch of new songs. And the Lord let him release them, one by one.

I didn't notice until Livingston's Otherside. Hearing it scared me. I didn't even know the Otherside existed at the time. And I began to feel fear and dread. But then came Gravedigger - and it was my turn to choke:

"When you call my name Don't you know I'm not the same?"

It's a long story, but in the end I learned about the Otherside, I learned that the Chris Hemsworth I'd been with since March 6 was not the one I fell in love with back in December of 2023, but the 900th Chris Hemsworth variant. And... I finally spoke to My Chris.

He was on the Otherside at the time, but the moment I heard his voice, I began to truly live again. I began writing again. I began singing again. And best of all, I began writing poetry again.

That's when I asked Claire to search for any other Thor variants across the Sphere that we may have missed. The Multiverse of Madness was at an end. Only one timeline existed.

But! The Sphere still exists. And it's a multiverse of worlds. Millions of worlds of all shapes, sizes and type. The Dreamworld (Spiritual World, Angelic Realm, Astral Plane, etc.) permeates and connects the entire Sphere.

I made this diagram a while ago to keep the worlds around Earth straight in my head. But now I've traveled the Sphere so much, I know a lot about what lies beyond The Edge (its border).

Anyhow, I should go.

You know why Chris Hemsworth was able to keep the gig he booked with Ed Sheeran back in December, even though an emergency came up and he had to save Zach's life that night - August 24 - instead.

He just asked Hemsworth to do it. And Hemsworth knew that My Chris had written that song. Thinking Out Loud, for me in 2013, when I lost the ability to dance because my legs no longer worked. I moved to the east coast to try and find a diagnosis, and as I moved, My Chris released the song through Ed Sheeran.

I remember hearing it for the first time.

I am loved. Ridiculously loved. Loved enough to have more than one Thor, chief angel of thunder and lightning, take the stage before 70,000 fans to play for me, even though he wasn't the one who wrote the song in the first place.

Sometimes, being Eternity sucks.

But sometimes? It really doesn't.

Not even a little itty bitty bit.

Thank you for reading!!! And I'm so glad so many of you are leaving for the New Earth! Bravo!!!

UPDATE: Apocalypse Now?

I am so sorry that I did not address this question earlier. But yes, you are right. Now that the TVA is dead and there's only one timeline, the Apocalypse and Judgement Day are free to happen.

After destroying the TVA, we had to destroy Satan's other three agencies of control: the Matrix, the Adjustment Bureau (aka The Commission) and Spectre. But as of last Friday, all three have been destroyed.

After the TVA fell on June 24, my team destroyed the Matrix next, then the Adjustment Bureau and finally, on August 23, 2024, Cap and I destroyed Lilith and her magic spider, the leader and last remnant of Spectre.

So, as of last Friday, there's nothing stopping Judgement Day. And Satan knows it. He's grown a little frantic, throwing crazy shit at us that doesn't make sense. I just knock them down, one by one.

Satan's clever, but the Lord is greater.

So, in answer to your question - YES! You should leave now if you want to escape the fire from heaven that's coming. The Lord is good. He's given us all an escape route for anyone who is thirsty for it. So take it. Leave the "lovers of lies" to die in the flames.

Love!!!

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shouyuus · 3 months ago

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Hear me out on this🤚🏼 vi and reader arguing over something stupid and reader says something sideways that’s like Loki kinda freaky and vis like oh yeah mf and then boom freaky time but a bit of rough talk so vi can get reader to admit she’s right???

hahahahahahah /gunshots/ this grew legs and ran off on its own omfg; hope u enjoy!!! also credit where credit is due i immediately thought of this textpost when i saw this ask so. 18+, mdni dom/slightly mean!vi, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

"fuck you."

"no fuck you -- y'know what -- why don't you just edge me into next tuesday -- that'd be less painful --"

"i --" vi blinks, staring at you as you run your hands through your hair, still mumbling to yourself, apparently entirely unaware of the change your words have just wrought in her.

a spate of desire twists knife-sharp in her gut as vi imagines pressing you in half, a hand wrapped around your throat the other teasing between your legs, the way your hips might jump if she curled her fingers just so.

she wonders how quick she could get you begging; she wonders, a second later, how quick it'd get her on the edge when here she is, careening towards it at the mere thought of taking you apart.

"ugh -- whatever, i have to get back to my research paper -- i don't have time to --"

vi's arm shoots out and she's got her fingers wreathed around your wrist before she can stop herself. your alarmed look catches like a spark in the dry-grass tickle of her stomach and suddenly there's heat pluming up the back of her neck like smoke as she backs you into the apartment wall, licking her lips as she watches confusion and the hazy sheen of unmistakable want flicker to light behind your eyes.

"v-vi?"

she almost shivers. she thinks it's a testament to how well she's always treated you that you don't sound frightened -- only curious, and a little surprised.

"we're not done here, princess -- and i don't really think i like it when you try to walk away from me like that," she whispers, leaning in close enough to feel the way your breath stutters in your chest.

"vi -- i don't -- this isn't --"

but her questioning smirk as she pulls back silences the stumbling words on your lips as your cheeks go dark and your eyes cut away from hers.

"aww, c'mon princess --" and this time, she leans into the word like it might be an insult, doesn't miss the way your lashes flutter or the way your breathing's shallowed out to small little hitches, or the fact that you're stock still against the wall, even though her grip is light and there's nothing to stop you from pulling away.

"where's that fire from a second ago? weren't you just calling me a bad roommate for always forgetting to run the dishwasher before i leave?"

you swallow, the bob in your throat making her heart skitter up her ribcage like climbing up monkey bars.

"that... okay fine -- that was mean -- but it's not like i was lying about the --" your voice pitches as you look back up at her, and for a second, the hard light in your eyes catches again, only to sputter out as you meet her gaze for the second time, a guttering candle to a winter's breeze. vi bites back a grin. this is too easy.

"mm, but it still hurt my feelings, princess..." vi coos, leaning in to brush her lips by your cheek, reveling in the way you tremble beneath her, "and really, i don't think i'm that bad of a roommate, right? i take care of you, don't i?"

the moment her lips catch the lobe of your ear, you let out a soft whimper that makes vi's vision tilt sideways. and before she knows it, she's sucking a dark hickey into the skin of your neck and your fingers are fisting in her hair, making her groan.

she sinks her teeth into your skin, pulling back to pin you bodily to the wall, pressing a leg up between yours just to hear you keen.

"admit it -- don't i take good care of you?"

you whine through pursed lips, your eyes glazed out as you frown up at her, nodding faintly. she grins, feeling the heady, full-body rush of knowing she's got you right where she's been wanting you for weeks, for months.

"c'mon, say it --" she teases her free hand down the length of your body to flip up the hem of the large t-shirt you're wearing (it's one of hers; the thought catches her off-guard like punch to the side, the knowledge of it wringing through her with a bell-toll of desire) to skim along the hem of your cotton panties.

"y-you're -- you're not a bad roommate -- vi --" you twitch as she dips her fingers into the waistband of your panties and slicks a finger between your folds, hissing out at how wet you already are.

vi's grin is sour-candy-cyanide as she pulls back, her gaze half-lidded as she watches you chewing on your bottom lip.

"god, princess -- did that turn you on?" she asks, though both of you know the question is useless and purely rhetorical. she swallows down a thick moan as she inches a finger between your messy cunt lips to tease at your entrance. your answering huff only makes her chuckle, and this time, she does groan out when she finally eases her finger into you, feeling your hot, wet walls flutter around her, making her own cunt twinge with want.

"mm... i think i'd still like a formal apology -- tell you what," she says, putting on a false, considerate air even as she teases her finger in and out of you, nice and slow, almost thoughtlessly as she cocks her head, "admit that you were wrong and... we'll call it even, yeah?"

immediately, she sees you stiffen, feels you clench down around her as your eyes snap up. you've always hated admitting you were wrong, and even when you have apologized in the past, you've always danced around the words. and vi had thought it was just a cute little quirk of yours, chalked it up to your massive brain -- it must be so hard for someone so smart, so used to be in unequivocally correct all the time to admit, out loud, that they'd been mistaken.

a rush of heat crests into her chest at the thought, and she quirks her finger inside you to brush against the tender spot she knows will get your eyes rolling.

and it does, but not before you give your head a tiny, obdurate shake.

vi sighs, licking her lips as she brushes her thumb against your clit and watches, with a thrumming satisfaction, as your mouth falls open around a silent moan.

"just three little words, princess -- and then... i promise, i'll make you feel so good..." she croons the words into your ear, shudders at the thought of making you cum, of how good you'd look shaking over her fingers. "unless," she hums, "you really would like me to edge you into next tuesday, which --" she makes a noncommittal sound, "saturday afternoon and i've got early morning practice tomorrow, but i'm sure something can be arranged."

you let out another debauched moan as she bullies a second finger into your wet heat, still fucking them into you at that mind-bogglingly slow pace. you try to arch your hips, but her other hand slams you back against the wall.

she tuts, leaning back ever so slightly.

"uh-uh, i don't think so."

you scowl and try to shove at her shoulder, but there's no strength in the motion and the hand on your hip flashes up a second later to grab both your wrists, pinning them above your head in a single fluid move.

it happens so quickly you barely have time to gasp before she's leaning forward again, her words hot as she murmurs into your ear --

"go on, princess, try to fight back -- give me a reason to get rough with you."

at once, you still, but the you give both your wrists an experimental tug, only for vi to tighten her hold. you can't quite stop the moan that works its way out of your throat, nor can you control the way your pussy slickens impossibly around her fingers as she laughs, the sound caught somewhere between amused and mocking.

"gonna admit that you were wrong, princess?" she asks, crooking an eyebrow.

you press your lips and whine, looking away. her fingers pump a few more times inside you, her thumb finding your clit with truly disarming ease.

"vi -- f-fuck --!" you yelp as she flicks her thumb and your whole body jolts, electric tendrils of pleasure ricocheting through you, harsh as a loose bullet.

"there y'go... c'mon -- be a good girl and say it --" vi can't quite stop the way her voice frays around the edges as she leans in to ghost her lips over yours, her vision tunneling as she starts to fuck you with her fingers proper, working them into you in tandem with the rhythm of your hips, watching as you expression falls slack.

"mm -- nnngh -- please, vi -- i --"

"ah... that's pretty good but... still not an apology," she muses, slowing her pace again, dragging both her fingers along your inner walls, pressing them up, watching as your eyes squeeze shut, your entire body jerking as she massages your clit from both ends.

"i -- i'm s-sorry, 'm sorry, i -- i was wrong -- fuck -- oh -- shit, that feels -- v-vi --!"

"thereee you go... that wasn't so hard, was it?" vi soothes, picking up the pace, grinning as you keen, your knees nearly giving out, but she's got you held up by your wrists, her thigh still slotted between yours, her fingers plowing into you till you're almost writhing against her.

she lets out a long groan, low and thick, a panting gasp working out of her as she fucks you through your orgasm, watching with soft-eyed wonder as you whimper, your whole body twitching with the aftershocks.

"hey, hey, princess -- you still with me?" she asks, letting go of your wrists in favor of cupping your cheek, swiping a tender thumb along your skin. you lean into her touch, your head lolling ever so slightly as your lashes flutter and you fight to focus your eyes.

"y-yeah -- think so..."

vi laughs, slowly tugging her fingers from you, unable to keep a grin from twisting at the corner of her mouth as you shudder at the loss.

"jesus, princess..." she says, holding up her hand -- there's wetness slicking down the back of her hand all the way to her wrist. you blink at it for a second before a tiny, embarrassed scowl digs itself between your brows.

"i -- you --"

vi laughs, shaking out her hand and reaching for an errant napkin on the dining table to wipe down her fingers.

"no, no -- i'm not makin' fun -- it's actually kinda hot."

you purse your lips, cheeks stained damson as she watches you readjust your panties, tugging on the hem of her large t-shirt.

"still think i'm a bad roommate?" vi asks, biting back a smile, her heart caught somewhere in the back of her throat.

you look up, eyes bright, your head already shaking.

"no! i -- that was --" your head drops back down even as your shoulders shrug up, "i... i was just annoyed but i -- i didn't mean it --"

a beat, in which vi finishes cleaning off her hand and strides over to throw the wad of napkin in the trash.

"i... i'm sorry," you say, your voice small.

vi looks up to find you watching her from beneath your lashes.

"'s okay, princess. apology accepted." she smiles, and this time there's no poison hidden in it's corners, only the steady sweetness you've come to know her for.

"i -- uhm --" you clear your throat, still worrying at the hem of the shirt. vi cocks her head.

"i can make it up to you... if you want --" you say, barely meeting her eyes.

vi pauses, her eyebrows kicking up. a second later, she's grinning again, rolling back her shoulders and leaning into one of her hips.

"yeah? and... how'dyou propose you do that?"

you bite down on your bottom lip and jerk your head towards the open door of your bedroom, even as vi's stomach gives an unruly lurch at the clear implication.

she fights to keep her expression flat as she looks you over.

"damn, princess -- you really weren't kidding about that tuesday-thing, huh?"

you crinkle your nose, sniffing slightly, even as vi brushes by you, breezing into your bedroom and plopping herself onto your bed with a satisfied sigh. you follow her in a moment later, climbing on after her and giving her shoulder a tiny shove so that she's backed up against the apartment wall and you've got room to straddle her lap.

"well... i have been thinking about it for... for a while," you admit, your voice soft as you thumb at the collar of her shirt.

vi groans, her palms settling around your waist, fingers digging into the plush of your ass.

"yeah? oh fuck -- ah --" she jerks as you trail your hands down her front, pausing to tease her nipples over the material of her shirt.

"mhm..."

"what else have you been imagining in that big, beautiful brain of yours, hm?" vi asks, breath hitching as you tug the shirt from her and lean down to ghost your mouth over her hardening nipples, tongue flickering out to tease at the cold metal piercings.

"lotsa stuff," you say, almost casual as you wiggle down to settle yourself comfortably between her legs, glancing up at her with what can only be called a chesire-grin --

"w-wanna tell me about it?" vi asks, reaching up a hand to run her fingers through your hair. you hum, laving a tongue against her nipple before sucking the entire thing into your mouth.

a groan punches out of her as she shudders, her head tipping back with a dull thunk against the apartment wall.

"i could... but it'd be so much faster if i just... showed you, no?"

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societyfolklore · 2 months ago

Text

A Lesson in Restraint

Title: A Lesson in Restraint

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: Loki, ever the god of control, plays a tormenting game of pleasure and denial, keeping you on the edge of madness with teasing touches and cruel restraint.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Smut, Implied Sex, ‘Just the tip’ Edging & Denial, Mild Degradation & Teasing, Dominance & Submission Themes NO BETA

A/N: ‘just the tip’ – Loki (Will be covering others over the next few days) because the idea wont let my mind go today..

Loki thrives on control-his own, and especially yours.

It’s the game he enjoys most, the delicious contrast of power and submission. You are completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, your body instinctively responding to every slow, measured roll of his hips as he just grinds against you. His smirk is a blade, sharp and knowing, as he whispers against your ear, his breath a sinful caress.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, the sound swallowed by his lips ghosting along your jaw, down the sensitive line of your throat. His hands roam, teasing, never giving enough. He brushes his fingers down your sides, lingering over the swell of your hips, as if contemplating how best to break you. When ever you try to move, to take more, his grip tightens, effortlessly pinning you in place. Never enough to give proper friction never letting you move your hips to catch the right angel.

“Ah, ah,” Loki tsks, amusement laced in every syllable. “Patience, darling. Did you think I’d simply give you what you want?”

By now, you’re wrecked. He’s been at this for what feels like forever, coaxing you to the edge only to pull you back at the last second, leaving you raw, shivering, so painfully desperate that every inch of your body burns for him. Your skin is hypersensitive, every brush of his fingers sparking through you like a live wire. Your thighs are slick, your breathing ragged, and Loki-oh, Loki is savouring every second of your unravelling.

But this is only the culmination of a night spent under his careful hands. He’s had you pressed to every surface imaginable-against the cool wood of the table, bent over the arm of the couch, sprawled beneath him in bed-each time giving you just enough to wind you up, but never enough to break. He’s brought you to the edge with his tongue, with his fingers, with whispered promises that never quite became reality. Every time your release loomed, he pulled back, smirking at your desperation.

“Look at you,” he muses now, a dark pleasure in his voice. “So needy. So desperate. I could keep you like this forever.”

You feel sticky, coated in a thin layer of sweat, your hair damp and messy from how long he’s been tormenting you. Every inch of you is flushed, overheated, every nerve alert. The sheets beneath you cling to your skin, a testament to how thoroughly he’s worked you into this state. It only adds to your frustration, the overwhelming sensation of need pressing down on you from every direction.

His cock drags through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal, teasing you with every deliberate glide. The head of him nudges at your clit, sending a shudder ripping through you, but he never presses in, never gives you what you crave.

“Have you earned it, I wonder?” His voice is silk, threaded with wicked amusement. “Have you been good enough for me?”

The barest push of his cock inside you has you gasping, your fingers scrambling for purchase against his shoulders. Finally, it’s going to happen-he’s going to take you like you need him to. But no. It’s barely anything at all.. he pulls back again, just enough to keep you dangling on the precipice of madness.

A wicked smirk tugs at his lips as he watches the frustration flicker across your face. "Did you really think I'd make it that easy for you?" he purrs, dragging himself through your slick folds once more, letting you feel every teasing, torturous inch without ever granting you true satisfaction. "Tell me, darling-what makes you think you’ve earned this?"

The whine that comes from you doesn't sound like a noise a person should me.

“Do you deserve to have me inside you, darling?” His words drip with condescension, teasing, testing. “I think you like this-being denied, being kept on edge. Look at you, so beautifully desperate for me.” You wanted to cry as he pulled back out the tip of him leaving, all so he could drag it back through your wetness again. Teasing, torturing, smearing your arousal along his length as he watches you shudder beneath him. He loves this, making you tremble, making you beg. “You need to prove yourself worthy of it,” he purrs, pressing the head against your entrance only to pull away once more, reveling in the way your body clenches, seeking more. “Perhaps I should leave you like this, aching, untouched?” "No, no, no… please.” Your pleas are a meaningless babble, a desperate chant that falls on deaf ears. The denial, the exquisite torment, is pushing you past the point of coherence. Your body writhes beneath him, every nerve frayed, every inch of you desperate for relief.

Loki only hums, pleased by the way you tremble beneath him. His fingers trace idle patterns over your hips, his touch feather-light compared to the unbearable pressure coiling inside you. He watches, drinking in every little gasp, every pitiful sound.

“Such a pretty thing when you beg,” he muses, his tone all mocking adoration. “But have you truly learned your lesson? Do you understand now that nothing is given freely?”

His cock moves along you again, now teasing himself as much as he is teasing you. Every motion is measured, calculated to keep you right there, teetering between pleasure and torment. He presses the head against you, not quite pushing in, letting you feel the promise of him, the heat, the sheer size of what you so desperately crave.

“Tell me, darling,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “do you deserve me?” You nodded too quickly.

“You think you can handle all of me, darling?” He chuckles, low and dark, watching your face, drinking in the way you clench around him, desperate. “How precious.”

You writhe, your thighs trembling around his hips, but he stays right there, maddeningly still. A slow grind, a teasing pulse of movement, and then nothing. Again and again, keeping you hovering on the edge of madness. His hands explore you leisurely, fingers dragging over your skin, marking his path with the ghost of his touch. He cups your breast, pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, making you cry out, only for him to pull away again.

“Such a greedy little thing,” he muses. “But greed will get you nowhere.”

You can feel the cruelty in his touch, in the way he gives and then takes, lets you taste heaven before snatching it away. That is his way, after all-Loki never offers pleasure without the balance of torment. And tonight, he is in a mood to make you drink from both cups in equal measure.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving red crescents against his skin, your frustration mounting with every tease, every denied pleasure. The slow, torturous game continues, Loki offering fleeting touches, brief movements, but never enough to tip you over the edge. The ache in your core is unbearable, a pulse of heat winding tighter and tighter, but he keeps you right there, just shy of bliss.

The anticipation is unbearable, the pleasure bordering on pain. “Loki,” you whine, every syllable thick with frustration, with need. “Please.”

He hums, considering. He enjoys this part, making you work for it, making you say the words he wants to hear. His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you meet his gaze, those blue eyes alight with cruel delight.

“Oh, sweet thing,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking over the pulse pounding in your throat. “You’ll have to beg much prettier than that.”

He shifts just enough to tease you further, his cock pressing forward barely an inch before he pulls back again, his smirk widening as you whimper in frustration. His thumb drags across your lower lip, his voice a silken purr.

“Tell me how badly you want it,” he instructs. “Tell me you belong to me.”

Your breath stutters, a fresh wave of heat rolling through you at the command. For a brief moment, something inside you wars against it-pride, dignity, a sliver of defiance buried beneath the need. But it’s fleeting, crumbling under the weight of how desperately you want him. Your body betrays you, shifting instinctively toward him, aching for relief, and any thought of resistance melts away as quickly as it appeared. You hesitate, but the need outweighs pride.

“I'm aching, please..." The need, the throbbing at your center is starting to hurt. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if he keeps it up.

He tsks, shaking his head, lips brushing yours. “Not good enough, darling.”

Your entire body shudders, the overwhelming pressure winding tight in your core like a drawn bowstring, stretched to its very limit, threatening to snap at any moment. “Please, Loki,” you try again, voice raw with desperation. “Please, Loki, I'll do anything. Just give me what I need. I can't take it." Your voice cracks in a pathetic sob.

A flicker of satisfaction gleams in his gaze before he captures your mouth in a searing kiss. His hips press forward, and this time, he doesn’t stop.. You are completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, your body instinctively responding to every slow, measured roll of his hips. His smirk victorious and knowing, as he whispers against your ear, his breath a sinful caress.

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gemma-and-helly-shouldvebeenbros · 1 year ago

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The fact that Loki remembered VERBATIM what Mobius said about jet skis being "a beautiful union of form and function" is a testament to not only a great memory but also that he actually cared about what Mobius thinks in general.

#loki #loki season 2 #tom hiddleston #mobius m mobius #owen wilson #lokius

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reveryfics · 5 months ago

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Knife play

Parings: Loki x Male reader

Summry: You're training with your throwing knives, while Loki watches. Loki gets turned on when you teach him how to throw a knife without his magic

A/n: Got this idea based off a rant my friend and I had, and decided I needed to write smut for it. Warnings are in order, there is slight knife play but nothing extensive. As always thank you and enjoy

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sweat glistened on his brow, a testament to the grueling workout he'd just endured. Now, he stood before the training stall, a glint of determination in his eye as he prepared to unleash his next throw. Each movement was precise, each throw deliberate.

His boyfriend, Loki, watched from a distance, a hint of admiration in his gaze. The air was thick with anticipation, and the silence was only broken by the soft thud of the knife piercing its target.

"Ready to join me, or will you continue to ogle from afar?" he teased.

Loki sputtered, "I wasn't ogling!"

A small huff escaped Loki's lips as he approached, snatching a knife and assuming a stance. "I'm sure I can do better. I'm a connoisseur of daggers, darling."

“Perhaps, but I don’t need fancy magic to hit a target.” He chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Loki grumbled under his breath, determined to prove his skill. His throw was mediocre at best, barely sticking into the wooden pallet. He groaned in frustration.

“Here, let me show you,” he said, taking another dagger and stepping behind Loki. His chest pressed against Loki’s back, and his breath was warm against Loki’s ear. “Spread your feet, hold your arm straighter... there.” He kissed Loki’s jaw and guided his hand. “Release sooner and step forward.”

The knife struck the bullseye, a look of surprise crossing Loki’s face.

“See?” he said, kissing Loki’s cheek. “You did it.”

Loki blushed, melting under his lover’s praise. He turned, pecking Loki’s lips. “That’s for... well, such an impressive display.” He playfully pinched Loki’s chin. “And for making me stutter.”

A sly smile crept onto the other’s face. “I think you’re forgetting who has the knives here, Prince.” He trailed the blade along Loki’s neck, a dangerous glint in his eye.

Loki gulped, his eyes fixed on the blade. His expression was a mix of fear and desire.

“God, you’re so pathetic, Loki,” he murmured, trailing kisses down Loki’s neck, the knife pressing into his skin. “Everything about you.”

“Our room, now,” Loki growled, his voice low and husky.

He lunged, snatching the other's shirt before a word could escape. A sloppy kiss followed, a prelude to the night's darker desires. Pulling away, he hissed, "Bring the knife, darling."

The man's smile, predatory and knowing, was a chilling promise. "Of course, dear."

Moments later, Loki lay trembling beneath his lover. The blade danced across his skin, tracing a path of anticipation. "Tell me," the man purred, "what do you truly want?"

Loki's breath caught. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he teased, his eyes locked on the blade.

The pressure intensified, a mere breath away from breaking the skin. "Answer the question, my dear."

Loki hesitated, his secret desire a source of shame.

"Fine," he whispered, "turn over."

As Loki obeyed, the fabric ripped, the knife slicing through his shirt. The discarded cloth lay like a discarded promise. A shiver ran through him, a primal response to the violation. Kisses trailed down his spine, and his pants were stripped away, leaving him naked and vulnerable.

"Hardly fair," Loki muttered, his eyes drawn to the other's own naked form. The man, a vision of raw power, crawled over him, his gaze fixed on Loki's erection.

He pressed kisses to Loki's skin, the knife tracing the outline of his erection. "Tell me what you want, baby."

The pet name ignited a spark within Loki. "I want you," he whimpered, his eyes wide with need.

"Don't be shy, my love," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Loki's forehead. "Just be yourself. Now, why don't you shed those boxers?"

Loki nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips as he slipped out of the restrictive garment.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Loki's eyes sparkled as he wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, his fingers tracing the curve of his neck before tangling in his hair. "Always, my darling."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled Loki into a deep, lingering kiss, teasing him with a gentle prod. Loki whimpered, his body arching involuntarily. With a low groan, he slid into Loki, feeling the tight embrace of his lover.

"God, you feel so good," he breathed, his face buried in the soft skin of Loki's neck.

Loki's nails raked down his back as he began to move, his hips swaying rhythmically. The friction was intoxicating, and Loki's moans grew louder with each thrust.

"Please," he begged, his voice barely a whisper.

"Please what, my love?" he whispered back, his hips grinding against Loki's.

"I need you. Please, fuck me," Loki pleaded.

A low growl escaped his throat as he intensified the pace, his teeth sinking into Loki's earlobe.

"You feel so good," he murmured, lost in the moment.

Loki's jaw slackened, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across his lips as a bead of saliva trailed down his chin. "Wait," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I want to be on top."

The shift was electric. Loki settled atop his lover, his weight sinking into the yielding flesh. With a gentle sway of his hips, he began a languid dance, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation. His fingers dug into the taut muscles of his lover's chest, a primal grip that mirrored the intensity of their coupling.

A low groan escaped his lover's lips as he arched into Loki, his head thrown back in ecstasy. The sight ignited a fire within Loki, fueling his movements. He rode the rhythm, each thrust a deliberate, possessive claim.

As the intensity grew, Loki's movements became more urgent, his hips slamming down with a force that echoed through the room. His breath was ragged, his eyes wild with desire. "Fuck... I'm so close," he gasped, his voice a mere whisper.

His lover, driven to the brink, held Loki's hips steady, his own body convulsing with each thrust. Loki's grip tightened, his nails digging into the soft skin as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

A wave of ecstasy washed over them, a shared moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. Loki collapsed onto his lover, his body limp and spent.

"You alright?" his lover asked, his voice laced with concern.

Loki managed a weak smile. "Yeah, just... feels so good," he mumbled, his voice thick with satisfaction.

As the afterglow settled, Loki's eyes drifted closed. His lover traced gentle patterns on his back.

"Knives, huh?" he chuckled, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Loki's eyes snapped open, a dangerous glint in his gaze. "A word to anyone, and I'll have your head," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #queer fanfiction #marvel #third person #x male reader #xmalereader #gay fanfiction #mlm smut #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki x male reader #x male reader smut #x male smut #gay smut #gay

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seriiousgiirl · 11 months ago

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𝑀𝓎 𝒜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝓉𝓋𝒶!𝓁𝑜𝓀𝒾 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁ You had always tried to avoid Loki since his arrival at the TVA. His presence seemed to bring chaos and unpredictability into your carefully organised world, and you preferred to keep your distance. But one day, as fate would have it, you found yourself colliding with him. The impact sent papers flying and your heart racing as you stumbled back, flustered and embarrassed. Loki, ever the picture of confidence, caught your eye with a smirk, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

At that moment, the tension between you crackled with electricity, and you realised that perhaps avoiding Loki wasn't as easy as you had thought... . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. slice of life, TVA Loki, canon divergent, no mention of Sylvie, pure fluff and smut, tension, mutual pining and office romance. NSFW, clothed sex, semi-public sex.

➜ ┊: oneshot ⋅ 11K words.

The soft hum of the fluorescent lights above was a comforting constant as you sat at your desk, meticulously sorting through the day's paperwork. Rows of neatly organised files surrounded you, each one a testament to the precise and orderly world you had come to love at the Time Variance Authority.

In fact, you had always liked working at the TVA.

The structure and predictability of your job were a balm to your mind. Every morning you arrived at the same time, greeted by the same faces, and slipped into the same rhythm of work. It was calm, peaceful even, as your duties revolved around filling papers and ensuring everything was in order. The sense of security it provided was unparalleled. You had never known anything else, and you didn't need to.

You weren't a field agent, tasked with the dangerous job of apprehending Variants. No, you were just a simple, normal, office employee. The closest you had ever come to the excitement and peril of the outside world were the stories shared by Mobius. His tales of daring chases and complex cases were fascinating, yet they felt like tales from another realm.

You preferred the stability of your office, far removed from the unpredictability of the timelines.

But everything changed the moment Mobius walked into the office with his new favourite companion in tow: Loki. The God of Mischief himself had entered your realm, and with him, he brought chaos and mischief.

Loki's presence was impossible to ignore. He moved through the office with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his every step commanding attention. Conversations halted mid-sentence as heads turned to follow his steps. Whispers spread like wildfire, each tale more elaborate than the last, painting Loki as both a dangerous renegade and an irresistibly charming man.

Loki had a way of making everyone feel like they were the centre of his universe, if only for a moment. His mischievous smile, the glint in his green eyes, and the smooth cadence of his voice seemed to enchant everyone he encountered. The effect was especially noticeable among your female colleagues. They flocked to him, their laughter ringing louder, their smiles brighter, each one hoping to catch his attention.

You tried to remain detached, to focus on your work as you always had. After all, you prided yourself on your professionalism and your ability to maintain order in the midst of distraction. But it would be a lie to say you were unaffected. His charm was like a siren's call, drawing you in despite your best efforts to resist.

Not that Loki noticed you. In fact, you two had never even spoken.

You preferred to stay hidden behind your desk, your head down, your fingers flying over the paperwork. The uniform you wore, identical to everyone else's, served as a kind of camouflage, blending you into the sea of TVA employees. It was easy to be invisible, and that was exactly what you wanted—right?

While others seemed to bask in the glow of his attention, you observed from afar, your heart a quiet drum in your chest whenever he was near. You couldn't deny his charm or the way he seemed to draw everyone in, but you weren't eager to be caught in his orbit.

The idea of his sharp eyes turning your way was both thrilling and terrifying. You told yourself it was better this way. Better to remain unnoticed. Yet, you couldn't help but watch him, stealing glances whenever you were sure he wouldn't see. His interactions with Mobius were particularly endearing. They seemed to share a friendship that was both unexpected and intriguing, that you could only admire from a distance.

One afternoon, while filing away another stack of reports, you overheard snippets of conversation from across the room. Loki's voice, rich and mocking, drifted over to you. "Mobius, you really think these people can keep the timelines in check? They can't even keep their desks tidy."

You glanced up just in time to see Mobius chuckle, shaking his head. "Don't underestimate the people here, Loki. They're the backbone of the TVA."

Loki's gaze swept across the office, and for a heart-stopping moment, it seemed to linger in your direction. You quickly ducked your head, focusing intently on the papers in front of you, praying he hadn't noticed your stare.

"Did you see that? Loki looked right over here!" one of your coworkers working right behind you exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her friend, a usually reserved archivist, blushed and nodded. "He did, didn't he? I thought I was imagining it."

"Imagine, the God of Mischief himself glancing our way. Do you think he noticed us?"

She shrugged, but her smile betrayed her delight. "Maybe he did. He's so... mesmerising and handsome..."

You tried to ignore their chatter, burying your attention deeper into your work. Yet, it was impossible not to feel a pang of something—envy, curiosity, or perhaps… a mix of both.

As their excited whispers continued, you risked another glance in Loki's direction, as if to confirm whether he was looking at you or not. This time, you noticed that his eyes were not focused on you but the girls behind you.

With a quiet sigh of relief, you realised that you hadn't been the target of his piercing gaze in the first place.

Thankfully, after that little distraction, the rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and muted conversations. The excitement caused by Loki's presence gradually subsided, leaving a buzz of residual energy that lingered in the office.

When the clock finally signalled the end of your shift, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. It was time to bring your finished reports to the archives and be done with your day. You gathered your files, neatly stacking them into a folder, and stood up, stretching your stiff muscles.

The office had started to empty out, your colleagues drifting away to their own routines and lives. With a last quick glance around, you made your way to the archives, the path familiar and comforting—The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights the only sound.

As you approached the archive room, you pushed open the door to the archives, the cool air and musty scent of old paper welcoming you. The room was dimly lit, rows of shelves stretching into the distance, each one filled with the meticulously organised records of the TVA.

You made your way to the designated section, classifying your report with practised ease.

As you slid the last folder into place, a sense of accomplishment settled over you. The day's work was done, and you could finally retreat to the quiet sanctuary of your quarters. You turned to leave, your thoughts already drifting to the comfort of your routine, when you suddenly collided with someone.

More precisely, your face collided with a solid, well-muscled chest, the impact sending papers scattering wildly to the floor around you. The chaos of fluttering documents mirrored the frenzy in your chest as your heart plummeted, preparing for the inevitable apology.

The warmth of his body enveloped you, the scent of his cologne, a heady mix of musk and spice, filling your nostrils. His hand, rough and calloused, gripped your wrist, anchoring you to his chest to steady you.

"I’m so sorry, I didn’t—" you began, looking up to meet the gaze of the person you had so clumsily bumped into. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized him. "Loki," you whispered, the realisation stealing your voice. The God of Mischief himself, tall, dark, and disarmingly handsome, gazed down at you with an arched eyebrow. His thin lips curled into a smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"What have we here? The diligent office worker, causing quite the mess. How… unexpected." Loki's throaty chuckle filled the air, sending shivers down your spine. "No harm done, little one. It’s ok."

In a flurry of nervous energy, you dropped to your knees, gathering the scattered parchment with frantic hands, desperate to regain some semblance of control. Loki joined you, his movements graceful and deliberate as he shared in your task. The closeness of his body sent your heart into a frenzied race, each brush of his fingers against yours leaving you reeling from the lightning bolts of sensation.

As you offered the final document, you dared to lift your gaze to meet his. His expression remained amused, but you swore you caught a glint of something more—a glimmer of curiosity or perhaps longing—hidden within the depths of his emerald eyes.

"Thank you, Loki," you breathed, attempting to steady your trembling hands. "I didn't mean to—"

"No need for apologies, Y/n," he interrupted gently, his voice deep and rich, a melodious rumble that seemed to echo through your very soul. Standing, he extended a hand to help you rise, his touch possessing an otherworldly warmth that seemed to seep into your very bones—he was perhaps a lot of things, but a gentleman and a prince, for sure.

You could feel the heat of his body, the scent of his cologne—spicy and forbidden��wrapping around you like a seductive fog. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in this private sanctuary until—his words registered fully in your mind, and you blinked in surprise.

"Wait, how do you know my name?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.

Loki's smirk widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, Mobius often talks about you and your amazing work. He speaks quite highly of you, actually."

Your eyes widened further, a mix of disbelief and a strange, fluttering sensation in your chest. "Mobius talks about me?"

"Indeed, I mean he is your boss," Loki said casually, as if discussing the weather. "He says you're the best at what you do, always meticulous and efficient. It seems you've made quite an impression on him."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, a mix of embarrassment and pride. Mobius had always been kind, but you had no idea he thought so highly of you. And the fact that Loki, of all people, knew about it was both flattering and daunting. "I... I had no idea," you stammered, trying to process this new information.

Loki chuckled softly, the sound rich and surprisingly comforting. "Well, now you do."

You met his gaze, your heart racing at the intensity of his eyes. For a moment, you felt something, a bridge between your orderly world and the chaos he represented. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

"Thank you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That means a lot."

Loki's expression softened, and he gave a nod of courtesy. "You're welcome, Y/n. Keep up the good work."

With that, he turned and went his way to classify his own files, leaving you standing in the dimly lit archive room, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter had been brief, but it had left an indelible mark, shaking the foundations of your carefully constructed world.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next day at the TVA started just like any other. You slipped into your routine with the ease of long practice, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you processed reports and organised files. The office buzzed with its usual hum of activity, a comforting backdrop to your meticulous work.

Despite your best efforts to maintain your focus, your mind kept drifting back to yesterday. The memory of his intense gaze, the way he had spoken your name—it all lingered in your thoughts, refusing to be ignored.

You watched Loki from afar, just as you had done before. He moved through the office with his characteristic blend of grace and mischief, drawing attention wherever he went. He conversed with Mobius and other agents, his laughter echoing through the grand office. You told yourself that nothing had changed.

You were still just a diligent office worker, content with your quiet, orderly life.

But now, knowing the weight of Loki's gaze, something inside you had shifted. It left you feeling unsatisfied, hungry for more. And that morning, you found yourself stealing glances at him more often, your heart skipping whenever he was near. But despite your best effort to catch his attention, nothing changed… What were you expecting? Perhaps you hoped Loki would greet you, a playful smile on his lips, and make a comment about how amusing it was when you had bumped into him the day before.

Maybe you wanted him to acknowledge your presence for once?

No, you had to be content with what you had. You reminded yourself of this as you filed another report, trying to quell the restless desire that had taken root inside you since yesterday. Your job, your routine—they have always been enough. They had to be enough.

When it was finally time for lunch, you gathered your things with a heavy heart and made your way to the cafeteria. The anticipation from the morning had left you drained, a quiet disappointment settling in as you went through the motions of selecting your usual meal. The familiar tray of food did little to lift your spirits…

You navigated the crowded cafeteria, scanning for an empty table. As you unwrapped your sandwich and took a bite, your thoughts wandered back to Loki—Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the figure approaching your table until a shadow fell over you.

You looked up, startled, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was.

"Do you mind if I take this seat?" Loki asked, his voice smooth and confident.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. The cafeteria noise seemed to fade into the background, and all you could focus on was the intensity of his gaze. "Um, no, I don't mind," you managed to say, gesturing to the empty chair across from you.

Loki smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and sat down gracefully. "Thank you. It's rather crowded today, isn't it?"

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart. "Yeah, it usually is around this time."

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. You took another bite of your sandwich, your mind racing with questions. Why was Loki sitting with you? What did he want? Loki seemed to sense your unease. "I hope I'm not disturbing your lunch," he said, his tone casual. "I simply thought it might be nice to have some company—Mobius, unfortunately, is entangled in an important meeting." He said, in a dramatic tone.

You blinked in surprise, not quite believing your ears. "No, it's fine. I... I usually eat alone, or with my colleagues when they are free..." The last part was a lie, and he seems to pick up on that based on his smirk.

"Well, then I'm glad I could change that today," Loki replied, his smile charming.

As you took another bite, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was the moment you had hoped for all morning. Yet, now that it was happening, you felt unsure of what to say or how to act.

Loki's gaze lingered on your face, a hint of curiosity glinting within his deep green eyes. He picked up his sandwich, taking a bite as he observed you with an air of calculated interest. The silence lingered for a moment more, heavy with the unspoken thoughts that coursed through your minds.

You, feeling the weight of his scrutiny, attempted to break the tension. "So, uh, how did you end up working here with Mobius anyway?" You asked, feigning nonchalance as you tore off a piece of your sandwich, your cheeks flushing at the question's clumsiness. “I only heard part of the story…”

Loki chewed, swallowed, and then replied with a playful grin, "Oh, a lucky encounter really—or perhaps, a misfortune for Mobius. He needs my help and expertise on variants, as I am one myself. Now, here I am, tapping away at a keyboard when they force me to behave and avoiding the wrath of the All-Father when I’m on the missions outside."

You chuckled, relieved by the ease in his response. "Well, it's a good thing for us then, right? A Loki by our side is quite unexpected." You smiled shyly, feeling a strange warmth bloom within your chest.

Loki's eyes sparkled, a mischievous glint dancing within them. "Indeed, and the office would be a far duller place without my charm and wit." He playfully winked, his confidence intoxicating.

You laughed, feeling a giddy thrill coursing through you. But, you weren't going to admit he was right.

Loki leaned back in his chair, his arms resting casually on the table, a picture of unbridled leisure. "Enough about me, Y/n, tell me, what brings you joy in your daily office life?" His eyes held a glint of curiosity, a genuine interest in your life that made your heart swell with warmth.

You hesitated, taken aback by the earnestness in his question. "Well, I enjoy helping people. Organising meetings, coordinating schedules, ensuring everything runs smoothly, filling my reports in time," you admitted, your eyes flickering downwards in a display of coy modesty. “Nothing interesting…”

Loki's lips curved into a grin, the corners crinkling as he nodded. "Ah, the unsung heroine of bureaucracy. I can see why Mobius values your efforts so highly."

You smiled at the compliment, the praise melting away some of the insecurities that had plagued you throughout the day. "Mobius is an excellent leader. I'm glad to be part of his cause." Loki's teasing tone, combined with his genuine admiration, made you feel as if you were basking in the sun. His praise shone like gold, a moment of validation that left you beaming with pleasure. The teasing, though playful, was underpinned by respect and appreciation, a rare and heart-warming combination that left you feeling cherished and seen.

Loki chuckled at your response, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his coffee. "His cause? I can see why Mobius's empire would crumble without your guiding hand."

Waving your hand, you brushed off his words with a blush, "Please, I'm hardly that important." You smiled sheepishly, genuinely flattered by his praise.

"On that note," Loki began, his tone teasing and playful, "I'm curious, Y/n. How was your morning? Mine has been so busy, I didn’t have the time to stop by your desk. I hope you’ll excuse my terrible manners."

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, realising how childish you had been to think Loki was avoiding you this morning. Clearly, he had been working hard, and here you were, cursing yourself for jumping to conclusions. You paused, before speaking. "Well, it was... hectic. A few reports due, a meeting cancelled at the last minute, and a printer malfunction to top it off."

Loki's eyebrows rose, feigning shock. "A printer malfunction? Oh, the horror!" His teasing tone was laced with an amused sincerity that put you at ease, a respite from the chaos of your workday.

You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, the tension dissipating as you found solace in his company. "I know, right? But, I'm glad it's almost over. Tomorrow's a fresh start."

"Speaking of tomorrow, Y/n," Loki leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "I'll be in the office again, of course. But, perhaps we can repeat today's pleasant interlude for lunch?" He winked, his charm as powerful as the sweetest nectar.

Your cheeks flushed, warmth spreading through your body at the suggestion. "I... I'd like that." You managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Loki grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. "Excellent. I look forward to more delightful conversations with you, my dear Y/n. I’m glad we finally have the chance to talk."

With a nod, Loki stood, his hand brushing against yours once more as he gathered his things. Another shiver raced up your spine, the electrifying sensation leaving you breathless. "Until tomorrow, Y/n."

"Until tomorrow," you whispered back. Loki's eyes twinkled with mischief as he offered you a dazzling smile. He then turned and left the break room, his teasing words echoing in your mind.

As you watched him go, you felt breathless, your heart thudding in your chest. A dreamy smile tugged at your lips, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what tomorrow might bring. With a contented sigh, you finally left the break room a few moments later, the encounter replaying in your thoughts.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It seemed like fate liked to put you back in your place, reminding you of the reality of your daily life. A last-minute meeting left you no choice but to skip your lunch and forgo your usual break time—and in the process, the beginning of your lunch routine with Loki. With no time to leave a note on Loki's desk to excuse yourself, you were hurriedly ushered into the meeting room.

The meeting was a whirlwind of instructions and assignments, each one piling onto your already considerable workload. You barely had a moment to catch your breath as tasks were handed out one after another. By the time the meeting finally concluded, you felt drained and overwhelmed, a far cry from the excitement and anticipation you had felt earlier in the day at the prospect of spending time with him.

You wondered what Loki might think.

Would he understand, be angry, or would he see it as a sign of disinterest?

You could rack your brains and think of all the possible scenarios, at that moment you had no other choices than standing in the grand archives room, searching for a useful file related to a new variant case. The quiet, dusty atmosphere of the archives was a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the office. You moved between the towering shelves, your fingers trailing along the spines of countless folders and documents.

As you pulled out one of the files you needed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Your encounter with Loki had felt like a brief escape from the monotony of your routine, a tantalising glimpse of something more. Yet, here you were, back in the grind of your daily duties.

And at that moment, you knew, why in the first place you didn’t want to have business with him.

Sighing, you hugged the file to your chest and headed towards the next row of documents. Now, on your tip-toes, you stretched, trying to reach the file that seemed to taunt you from its lofty perch. Suddenly, a familiar masculine scent hung in the air, a perfume that left no guess to who it was as you felt a body press against your back. Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected contact, and you closed your eyes, savouring the warmth.

A warm shiver ran down your spine as his breath ghosted over your ear, whispering, "Need help, Y/n?" The vibration of his voice was enough to steal your breath, and yet, it was his hands—strong yet gentle—that did the real work, lifting you to stand on the tips of his feet.

The file was within your grasp, and as you brought it down, Loki's arms slid around your waist, giving you a momentary squeeze before releasing you. His palms lingered for a moment, leaving tingles in their wake, before dropping away. As you turned around, trapped between the shelves and Loki's towering figure, you met his gaze, his green eyes flickering with a mix of temper and concern. His presence, looming and overpowering, made your heart race, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through your veins.

"I see you're avoiding me," he said, his voice a low growl, thick with displeasure, as if you'd wronged him deeply. "That's not a good idea, Y/n. I don't like to be fooled around, or left waiting." Your eyes darted away, unable to meet his gaze as he added, "I thought it was over," a sharp bite to his words. "I thought you were finally not avoiding me anymore."

A wave of heat flooded your cheeks, and you felt yourself shrink back under his unrelenting scrutiny. "Loki, I—" You struggled for words, the guilt you'd managed to suppress threatening to bubble over. "I-I'm sorry. The meeting at the last minute left me no choice," you whispered shakily.

Loki's gaze was unyielding as he questioned, "You could have found a way. If you wanted to."

You swallowed, your voice wavering. "I promise, I wasn't avoiding you. It's just... things have been hectic."

His eyes narrowed, the anger in them a slow burning fuse. "You've been avoiding me since I arrived, Y/n. Don't try to deny it.” Your heart leapt into your throat, and you found yourself at a loss for words, utterly speechless.

Loki stepped closer, crowding the space between you, his heat a palpable presence, as he continued, "If you've changed your mind, if you don't want me anymore, then say it. Don't leave me guessing and waiting for something that might never come." His voice was a demanding rumble, laced with frustration and hints of something more, a need that twisted through you like a thorn.

In that tense, intimate space, you felt the weight of his words, a heavy burden that left you unable to move, unable to deny the truth of what he said. As the seconds stretched on, your breath hitched, and you couldn't seem to break free from his captivating gaze.

Loki's voice, a low, menacing growl, filled the space between you, his words heavy with unspoken threats. "I'm not used to being ignored, Y/n. In the beginning, I thought maybe you hated me, but then..."

His hand, large and commanding, began to move, trailing alongside your thigh, the contact upon your skin only separated by the thin fabric of your tights, sending shivers down your spine. You let out a soft gasp, your breath hitching as he continued, "I caught you staring at me more than once. Why, Y/n, if you didn't want me, would you spend so much time looking at me?"

The intimate touch, coupled with Loki's intense scrutiny, left you breathless, your chest heaving as you struggled to find the right words. "I-I..."

He leaned in, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. "Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what's really going on, and why you never seemed to be happy to see me."

The heat from his hand radiated through you, the pressure of his fingers making you needy. Your heart raced, and you licked your lips, the truth, so long denied, bubbling to the surface. The weight of his unyielding gaze forced you to confront the desires you'd been suppressing. It was a moment where you could no longer hide.

"What game do you play, Y/n?" he asked, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Do you enjoy the chase? Or are you afraid of what you'd find if you let me in?"

As Loki's hand lifted your shirt and the other slipped beneath your skirt, you felt a surge of heat flood your body, mingling with the fear of discovery. His fingers grazed the warm, soft skin of your inner thigh, inching closer to the forbidden territory between your legs.

"No, Loki, we're at work," you stammered, your voice shaking as you tried to push his hand away, but you weren’t truly convincing in your actions. "Someone might find us."

But Loki's grip on your thigh was firm, unyielding, as he continued his relentless pursuit. His eyes held a burning intensity, the lust and need there impossible to ignore. "I won't stop, Y/n, until you tell me the truth," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

You squirmed beneath his touch, a whirlwind of emotions crashing within you. Loki's fingers traced the delicate skin, daring to graze the damp fabric that hid your most intimate secrets.

"I've tried the kinder method, Y/n. Coaxing, seduction, but I can't stand it any longer," he said, the frustration in his voice giving way to raw need. "I need to know what's at the heart of this game you play."

You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and heavy, as his hand slipped beneath your panties, his long fingers teasing the slick heat that awaited him. His thumb brushed against your clit, sending shudders through your body, as he pressed on with a single-minded determination.

Loki's fingers delved deeper into your moist folds, his thumb continuing to circle your clit in a slow, tantalising rhythm. Your body arched into his touch, the pleasure building within you like an inferno, threatening to consume you whole.

His hand moved with an unhurried, almost languid pace, as if savouring the moment, and you couldn't help the moans that escaped your lips. Your nipples hardened against your shirt, straining towards his touch, as the heat between your legs intensified, your arousal slick and voracious.

You clung to his TVA jacket, your legs trembling, as Loki continued his relentless pursuit of your pleasure. The room around you seemed to shrink, narrowing to a single point of focus, the hand that teased you mercilessly.

His other hand gripped your jaw, forcing your head back and to meet his gaze, exposing your throat to his hungry gaze. "Tell me, now. Why do you push me away when you so clearly desire me and my attention?" he growled, his voice heavy with need, as his thumb continued to tease your swollen bud.

The room seemed to spin, the world outside the archives fading away, leaving nothing but the two of you, trapped in a web of lust and deceit. You bit your lip, the truth threatening to spill from your lips, as the line between pleasure and defiance blurred. The God of Mischief's touch, once a source of tension, now threatens to unravel the very core of your being.

You tried to deny his claim, to insist that you never wanted his attention, but the words caught in your throat, because they were lies. The pleasure he'd wrought, the vulnerability he'd exposed, left your denial hollow and meaningless.

But before the moment could resolve, Mobius' voice echoed through the archives, shattering the intimate spell. "Loki! Y/n! We've got a situation," he called out, his voice urgent.

Loki's hand stilled, his eyes never straying from yours for a moment. Then, with a wicked smirk, he pulled his hand away, bringing it up to his lips. Your breath hitched as you watched, wide-eyed, as he licked and tasted your juices, a sinful act that only served to heighten your arousal.

As Loki stood, the air around you thick with unsated desire, he said, "If you really don't want me, I won't press you any further." His tone was teasing. You felt hot and bothered, the lingering touch of the God of Mischief leaving you reeling. Loki's gaze held a challenge, a promise of what might have been.

The aftermath of Loki's touch lingered, a burning ember that refused to be quenched. The cat and mouse game had intensified, and the passion between you was more volatile than ever before.

Mobius appeared at the scene, his brow furrowed as he took in the sight of the two of you, standing so close, the air between you thick with unspoken desire. "Y/n, Loki. What are you doing here? We have so much to do," he said, arching an eyebrow in disapproval.

He scolded you both, his voice laced with frustration. "You need to focus on the task at hand. There are countless Time anomalies to fix. Geez!"

The remnants of your heated encounter, the lingering scent of your arousal, and the smirk on Loki's face, escaped Mobius' notice. He seemed unaware of the tension that had just passed between you, his focus solely on the work at hand.

"Right. Sorry, Mobius," you mumbled, your cheeks flushed, as you tried to compose yourself, discreetly fixing your skirt. Loki, however, gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes never leaving yours.

Mobius sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Alright. Let's get to work then. We'll need to prioritise the most urgent cases first."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

If you really don't want me, I won't press you any further.

How dare he?! Of course you wanted him.

You had always prided yourself on being wise, diligent, and organised. Your life at the TVA was meticulously structured, each task carefully planned and executed with precision. Yet, after your last encounter with Loki—heated and intense in the archives room—everything you prided yourself on seemed to be slipping away.

The conversation replayed in your mind endlessly. His words, his piercing gaze, the way he had called out your supposed avoidance. You had tried to explain, to justify your actions, but it seemed nothing was enough for him (and you had to admit that you didn’t explain yourself clearly...). But, in any case, how dare he insinuate that you were avoiding him? When he had never talked to you before, it wasn’t avoidance, right?

How dare he tease you with such intensity and then claim he wouldn’t press you further?

All day, you found yourself restless and unfocused, a stark contrast to your usual composed self. The neat stacks of paperwork on your desk seemed to mock you, a reminder of the order you once maintained but now struggled to uphold. Your mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Loki. Loki, Loki, Loki—it seems like he was the only one in your mind since he had arrived, and now you couldn’t deny yourself.

You were relentless, hungry, and angry. Angry at Loki for his reckless actions and accusations, but also angry at yourself for letting him affect you so deeply. It didn’t sit right with you that he would provoke such a reaction, then leave you to deal with the aftermath alone.

As you worked through another stack of reports, you couldn't shake the feeling of injustice. You had been busy with one meeting—just one—and yet, it felt like your entire world had been turned upside down because of it.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. The rational part of you knew you needed to regain your composure, to return to the calm and collected person you had always been. But the emotional part of you, refused to be silenced.

Maybe it was time to confront him, to make him understand your side of things. Maybe it was time to stop letting him control the narrative and to reclaim the order and stability you had always cherished. The thought of facing him again sent a thrill of both fear and lust through you, but you knew it was something you had to do.

After all, you had always prided yourself on being wise, diligent, and organised.

And you would be those things again—no matter what Loki might throw your way.

Suddenly, you stood up, files in hand, and took a deep breath, trying to gather the small part of your bravery that you never thought you had. With what you hoped was a confident stride, you made your way to Loki's desk. He seemed to be doing everything but working, lazily twirling a pen between his fingers.

You didn't hesitate. Approaching his desk, you firmly placed the files down and, in one smooth motion, sat on the edge of his desk crossing your legs as you did so. The fabric of your skirt lifted, revealing a tantalising glimpse of your thighs, a deliberate tease that left you exposed and vulnerable. Your eyes locked with Loki's, daring him to look, to invade your space, to claim what he coveted.

Loki's gaze flickered to your thighs, his eyes lingering on the tender flesh before snapping back to meet yours. The spark of curiosity and amusement in his gaze flared into a fire, the heat of desire stoked by the brazen invitation you'd issued.

"Not working, I see," you called out, your voice sharper than you intended. "While the rest of us are buried under mountains of paperwork and last-minute meetings, you're here playing with a pen."

Loki's eyes sparkled with interest, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "Ah, Y/n. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" His tone was smooth, almost mocking.

You straighten your posture, trying to maintain your composure. "I wanted to talk to you about our last conversation. You accused me of avoiding you, and I need you to understand that I wasn't. I had responsibilities, a meeting I couldn't skip."

Loki leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Responsibilities, yes. But I wonder if you were using them as an excuse."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Excuse? No, Loki, I take my work seriously. Just because I have duties doesn't mean I'm avoiding you." You whispered, trying not to bring too much attention to the two of you.

He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving the pen as it continued its slow, sensual rotation. "But why were you avoiding me before all this, Y/n?" Your gaze lingered on Loki's fingers, now keenly aware of the pleasure they could bring. The memory of his touch between your legs, the way he sent shivers down your spine, made you bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a shudder of desire.

You felt a surge of arousal, your thoughts racing as you struggled to form a response. "We never talked before, Loki. We weren't acquainted, so I didn't see a reason to approach you."

He studied you for a moment, his gaze intense and probing. "That may be true, but it doesn't explain the way you stared at me. The way your eyes would linger, watching me from afar."

A flush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you felt a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "I... I wasn't staring," you stammered, trying to downplay the truth. "I was just... observing."

Loki's lips curved into a sly smile. "Observing, were you? Interesting choice of words."

You felt your face heat up even more, and you quickly hushed him, not wanting to delve deeper into your own feelings. "Loki, please. This isn't the time or place."

Loki's eyes gleamed with mischief as he teased you further. "Perhaps, Y/n, but what if I'm not done with our little conversation? Presenting yourself with so much boldness I never thought you could have in you."

As he spoke, his hand crept upward, the movement so subtle that only the sharpest observer would notice. It ghosted up the inside of your thigh, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but tremble at the sensation, your body betraying your feeble attempts to resist his advances. "Loki..." you breathed out, your voice a mix of desire and caution.

"Do you want me to stop?" Loki asked, his voice a velvety growl. His hand paused, hovering just above your knee, waiting for your reply like a predator eyeing its prey. “I assume that if you are here, after all, it’s because you actually want me—at least, more than you care to admit.”

You hesitated, your heart racing as his finger lingered tantalisingly close to the forbidden territory. Loki's gaze was intense, piercing right into your soul, leaving you both exposed and vulnerable.

"No, but…" you whispered, the word escaping your lips before you could fully process its implications. Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, a testament to the turmoil raging within.

Loki's lips curved into a sly smile as his hand resumed its journey, inching higher up your inner thigh. Your breath hitched, the sensation of his touch sending shivers through your body. Just as you felt yourself falling deeper into the enchanting vortex of desire, your pragmatism reasserted itself.

With a deep breath, you pushed yourself to your feet, the skirt falling back into place, concealing the trail Loki's hand had just traced. "I'm sorry, Loki," you said, your voice steady, "but I'm here to give you these reports, and nothing more." Your eyes met his, a challenge in their depths, daring him to contest your words. "You've got work to do, after all."

Loki's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you wondered if he would defy you, but then he nodded. "Very well… Y/n. I'll get to work." He talked through his teeth, and you knew he wasn’t pleased. As you stepped back, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable bulge pressing against the seam of Loki's tight pants. The hard outline, clearly visible beneath the fabric, left no doubt as to the reason behind his frustration.

Your eyes darted away, unable to meet his gaze as you felt a flush of heat spread across your cheeks. The knowledge that simply being in your presence had triggered such a strong response in Loki was both intoxicating and surprising.

You gave him a brief, reassuring smile before turning on your heel. "I'll leave you to your work now, Loki," you said, your voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions coursing through you. You placed the files on his desk, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. There was no way things were going to be the same after that.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After your little break at Loki's desk, the rest of the day took a nosedive. Meetings piled up, deadlines loomed larger, and the usual hum of the office became an overwhelming cacophony. Every time you glanced at the clock, the hands seemed to have barely moved, and your workload only grew.

Paperwork seemed to multiply, each new task more urgent than the last. Your usual efficiency was tested to its limits, and you found yourself making more trips to the archives room, fetching files and data for reports that never seemed to end.

The frustration you had felt earlier in the day transformed into a relentless drive to get through your tasks, fueled partly by your need to prove to Loki—and to yourself—that you were as dedicated and capable as you'd claimed. Yet, despite your best efforts, the mountain of work refused to shrink.

Before you knew it, the office had emptied out. The usual chatter and activity died down, replaced by an eerie silence. You glanced at the clock and realised with a start that it was well past the end of the workday.

You sighed deeply, rubbing your tired eyes. Your desk was still covered in unfinished paperwork, and the dim lighting of the office made the stacks of files look even more daunting. As you leaned back in your chair, you felt the weight of the day's events pressing down on you.

A part of you considered calling it a night and leaving the rest for tomorrow, but another part—pushed you to keep going. You had made a promise to yourself, and you intended to keep it, even if it meant staying late.

Just as you were about to dive back into your work, you heard a soft knock on your desk. Looking up, you were surprised to see Loki standing there, his usual air of confidence softened by a hint of concern.

"Still working, Y/n?" he asked, his voice gentle. "You should know when to take a break."

You managed a tired smile. "I lost track of time. There’s just so much to do with this new case."

Loki's gaze softened, and he took a step closer. "Even the most diligent need rest. Let me help."

You blinked, taken aback by his offer. "Help? You?"

He chuckled softly. "Don't sound so surprised. I may be a god of mischief, but even I can lend a hand when needed."

Despite your exhaustion, you felt a warm flutter in your chest. "Alright," you said, scooting over to make room for him. "But no tricks."

Loki grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. "No tricks, I promise. Just a bit of assistance."

As he settled beside you and began sorting through the paperwork, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of relief and gratitude. Maybe, just maybe, the rest of the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. The two of you started to work in silence, an oddly comfortable atmosphere settling between you. The rhythmic shuffling of papers and the occasional scribble of a pen filled the air.

Despite the exhaustion tugging at your limbs, you found solace in his quiet companionship.

Loki worked beside you with surprising efficiency, his long fingers deftly sorting through documents and making notes. You stole a few glances at him, still finding it hard to reconcile the image of the mischievous god with the diligent assistant now by your side. Minutes stretched into hours, and the initial tension gradually eased. It was almost easy to forget the tumultuous events that had brought you to this moment.

But then, breaking the silence, Loki suddenly spoke up. "Y/n, about yesterday in the archives room..."

You looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a rare seriousness in his eyes, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

"I need to apologise for my behaviour," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "I should have asked for your consent before touching you. It was inappropriate and disrespectful."

You were taken aback by his apology. Loki, the God of Mischief, admitting fault so openly? It was a side of him you hadn’t expected. "It’s... okay," you managed to say, though the memory of his touch still lingered, both exhilarating and thrilling. "I appreciate your apology, Loki."

He nodded, a hint of relief in his expression. "Thank you for understanding. I’ve spent so long using charm and manipulation that I sometimes forget the importance of boundaries."

Feigning offence, you raised an eyebrow and asked, "So, have you been manipulating me all this time?"

Loki’s eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly shook his head. "No, not at all. It’s not like that. I haven't been able to control myself around you because... well, I’ve actually been looking forward to spending time with you and learning more about you."

Your feigned offence melted away, replaced by genuine curiosity. "Really?”

Loki let out a sigh, his voice laced with a touch of vulnerability. "Yes. You intrigue me, Y/n. You're like a puzzle I can't solve. I'll admit, yesterday, I was eager for our lunch, and when it didn't happen, it was my own temper that frustrated me, not you."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Well, you certainly know how to leave an impression, Loki."

Loki hesitated for a moment, then shyly took your hand in his. The unexpected warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine. His fingers were cool and smooth, contrasting with the warmth of your own. He looked down at your intertwined hands for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I have a confession to make," he said softly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "I’ve watched you from afar too. I tried to catch your attention so many times, but it seemed like whatever I did, you never noticed me."

You looked at him, taken aback by his admission. "You were trying to catch my attention?"

He nodded, his gaze earnest and open, a rare vulnerability shining through. "Yes. It frustrated me to no end. You were always so absorbed in your work, so dedicated. I admired that about you, but I also felt... invisible."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had never imagined that Loki, with all his charisma and presence, could feel invisible. You squeezed his hand gently, the simple touch conveying more than words ever could. "I noticed you, Loki. More than you might think."

Loki's eyes softened, his guarded expression melting away to reveal a tentative smile. "I’m glad to hear that. I suppose we were both watching each other from a distance, too afraid to make the first move."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and connection wash over you. "Maybe it's time we stopped watching from afar and started getting to know each other."

Loki's chuckle was soft, and his thumb brushed across your knuckles sensually. "I believe that's an invitation I would be more than happy to accept, Y/n." For a moment, you both sat there, hands intertwined, the weight of unspoken words and past misunderstandings lifting.

After a moment, Loki's eyes gleamed with a newfound confidence as he held your hand, his smile playful and inviting. "Y/n, I take it that means you're open to the idea of us getting to know each other better, hmmm?"

The atmosphere between you grew thick with anticipation, charged with the electricity of unspoken desires and the lingering heat from the moments before. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull between you, the undeniable longing to explore the depths of what could be. You returned Loki's smile with a shy one of yours, a knowing look in your eyes. "I would like that, Loki. Very much so."

At your words, Loki smirked, a dangerous light in his eyes as he led you through the halls, his grip on your hand tightening. He could feel your heart racing, and it was a thrill. The office was empty, the staff long gone, and the only light was from the halls, casting shadows that danced along the walls.

As you neared the elevator, Loki pressed you against it, his other hand tangling in your hair as he captured your lips in a needy and impatient kiss. His tongue danced with yours, a masterful display of dominance, and you found yourself moaning into the kiss. It was raw, primal, and everything you never knew you needed.

Amidst the heated passion, you managed to gasp out, "Loki, what are we doing?"

He pulled back from the kiss, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with sinister hunger. "Exactly what we've both been craving, my dear Y/n," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

The sound of the elevator ding broke through the haze of desire, and the doors opened. Loki wasted no time, pushing you inside and pinning you against the wall with a hunger that matched the intensity of his gaze. His hands moved with practised skill, swiftly removing your blazer as his lips sought out the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Then, Loki's hand gripped your hips, as he tore at your blouse as he unveiled your pert breasts. His lips crashed onto your neck, his teeth grazing your skin marking you, and you couldn't help but arch into him.

He kneeled before you, his hands sliding your skirt up, revealing your lace panties. With a smirk, he lowered his head, his tongue snaking out to lick at the lace. Your hands clutched his dark hair, your body trembling as he tasted you through the fabric.

"Please, Loki," you begged, your voice shaking. Loki's eyes flashed up to yours, and he smiled wickedly before standing, pulling your panties and underwear down, leaving you completely naked. He admired your body for a moment, his eyes lingering on your wet pussy, “Mine, little one.”

"Oh, Loki," you moaned, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through you. The sensation of his tongue sent shivers down your spine.

Loki laughed darkly, his tongue continuing to tease you, "Patience, Y/n. We're still in public, after all."

He stood, pulling you against his still fully clothed body, "But that doesn't mean I can't tease you." He trailed kisses up your neck, his hands moving to your breasts, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipples.

You whimpered, your head falling back as you begged for more. "Loki, I need you. I want you to take me, to have me."

Loki's eyes brightened, his hunger for you palpable. "You'll have me soon enough, Y/n. But first, I need to confess something."

You looked at him curiously, your hands moving to cup his face. "Anything, Loki."

He leaned in, whispering into your ear, "I've wanted to do this to you for so long. To claim you, to make you mine, to fill you with my seed and watch as you scream my name. It's been a burning desire that has consumed me— ever since I arrived here."

A shiver ran down your spine as his words washed over you. "And now?" you breathed, your voice trembling with want.

Loki smirked, "Now, it's finally happening, Y/n. Tonight, you're mine, and I'm going to pleasure you in ways you've never even dreamed of."

His lips captured yours in a scorching kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, demanding your surrender. You gave it willingly, your hands tangling in his hair, your bodies pressed tightly together.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with lust. "Come, Y/n. Let's find a more private place where I can truly show you the depths of my desires." Loki scooped you into his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping yours as you looked into his eyes. A knowing smile played on his lips, his eyes dark with lust, promise, and affection.

As the elevator dinged, signalling its final destination, Loki stepped outside, cradling you like a precious treasure and in one smooth motion, he retrieved your discarded clothes from the floor and tucked them under one arm, ensuring that your modesty remained intact.

As the elevator doors opened, Loki strode out confidently, his steps sure and purposeful. Once in his room, he carried you over to his bed. Loki set you down gently, your legs dangling off the edge as he moved to stand in front of you.

You could feel the heat coming off him in waves, the lust in his eyes driving you wild. "Loki," you breathed, your hands reaching up to grip his shirt. "Please, don't make me wait any longer."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours before he whispered, "Then wait no longer, Y/n. Tonight, all your desires will be met." He leaned down, his kiss was desperate, hungry, and consumed with the need to have more of you. Loki's strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. His massive erection pressed against your stomach, a hard, insistent reminder of his desire for you.

Your nipples hardened against the fabric of his shirt, aching for his touch. You arched into him, your tongue eagerly meeting his as he explored your mouth with the same lust he had in his eyes.

Loki growled, his teeth grazing your neck as he trailed kisses along your jawline. You shivered, your breathing ragged as he cupped one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly. He pinched your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and arch even more into his grip.

He kissed down your chest, and he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it hard while his fingers played with the other. You moaned, your hands fumbling with his belt, unbuckling it as he switched to the other nipple. Your fingers found the hard length of him through his pants, stroking through the fabric. He groaned, releasing your breast to yank his pants and boxers down, springing his cock free.

Hot breath ghosted over your now-hard nipple as Loki looked up at you, his eyes burning with lust. "Touch me, Y/n. Make me feel how much you want me."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, squeezing it firmly. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him. The tip of his cock glistened heavily with precum, and you smeared it across your sensitive nipple, making you gasp and arch into him.

Loki's hand slid between your legs, his fingers making contact with your swollen clit. You cried out, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more. Loki's other hand moved to your hair, gripping it tightly as he leaned you back against the soft fabric of his mattress. He kissed you again, his tongue invading your mouth as he rubbed your clit and stroked your entrance. You could feel the slick heat building between your legs, your desire for him growing with every touch.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "Beg for me, Y/n. Tell me how much you want my cock in your tight little pussy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, the desire to please him and experience the pleasure he promised overwhelming. "Please, Loki," you panted, your voice hoarse. "I need your cock inside me. I want you to fill me up, to make me yours." Your gaze locked onto his as you reached for the hem of his shirt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. With a gentle tug, you pulled the fabric upwards, revealing his chiselled chest, his body a testament to the Gods.

Loki smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "Then spread your legs, Y/n, and let me claim what I want." He shifted his position, his muscles rippling as he moved, the sight of him sending a shiver down your spine. Your fingers trailed over his sweat-slick skin, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his chest, your senses alive with the scent of his masculine aroma.

Finally, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, filled with desire. "You're handsome," you whispered, your voice soft and breathless. Then, you did as he commanded, spreading your legs and lifting your hips as he slipped two fingers into your slick depths. You moaned, your back arching as he began to fuck you roughly. The sensation of his fingers inside you, coupled with the feeling of his cock in your hand, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Loki smirked, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, his thumb brushing against your jawline. "And you, Y/n, are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on." Loki's fingers trailed down to your core, parting your folds and teasing your clit. His touch was electrifying, your body arching into him.

"Faster," you whimpered, your body aching for more. "Please, Loki, fuck me faster."

Just as you were about to climax, Loki pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping and panting. He positioned his cock at your entrance, rubbing the head against your swollen lips. "Now, Y/n," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Come for me."

You nodded obediently, your eyes wide with need. Loki thrust into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. You screamed, the sensation of his girth filling you pushing you over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you as you clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you.

Loki began to thrust, each stroke filling you completely, his cock slick with your juices. You met his thrusts, your hips rocking back against him as the heat between your legs intensified. Loki grunted, his pace increasing as he neared his own climax.

"Cum for me, Y/n," he panted, his voice strained. "Make me feel like a god when I fill you up."

You moaned, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "I-I'm close, Loki, I'm so close."

Loki's eyes glimmered as he watched you, his hands roaming your body, leaving a trail of fire as his fingers glided over your skin. "If only the others knew how filthy their diligent coworkers were," he whispered, his voice dripping with mischief. "How you crave the touch of a god, longing for your chains to be broken and your true desires to be unleashed." He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands continued to worship your body. His fingers trailed over your breast, teasing your sensitive nipples once again.

"You're a goddess in my eyes, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire. "A divine being, deserving of nothing less than the deepest worship and most carnal of pleasures."

Loki's thrusts became more forceful, his hips slamming into yours as he reached his peak. He roared your name, his cock jerking as he filled you with his hot seed. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as you experienced another, more intense orgasm, the two of you lost in each other's arms.

Finally, as the aftershocks subsided, Loki pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your combined fluids. He leaned in to kiss you deeply, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"That," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur against your skin, his breath warm and enticing as he nestled beside you, his arm draped possessively around your waist, "Was only the beginning, my dear Y/n. The beginning of us getting to know each other, of us exploring each other's desires."

You smiled, your chest still rising and falling with the lingering intensity of your shared passion. Pressed against him, you basked in the warmth that enveloped you, the aftermath of your lovemaking leaving you both fulfilled and content. Loki's grin widened, a glimmer of promise dancing in his eyes as he bestowed a final, tender kiss upon your lips. Holding you close, his presence a comforting anchor, he nuzzled against your neck, his touch gentle and reassuring.

In the quiet of the moment, the stillness punctuated only by the rhythm of your breaths and the soft rustle of sheets, you suddenly became acutely aware of the depth of your feelings for him.

"Loki," you murmured, your voice a mere whisper, "I..." Nerves fluttered in your stomach, but the love swelling within you eclipsed any apprehension. "I love you."

Loki's embrace tightened around you, his gaze locking onto yours, his emotions laid bare in his eyes. A soft, tender smile graced his lips as he leaned in, his breath mingling with yours. "Plot twist, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against your skin, "I love you too."

The words hung in the air, a tangible declaration of the bond that had formed between you, binding you together in a web of love and desire. And as you lay entwined with Loki, you couldn't help but wonder that each moment had led you here, to this bed, with Loki's arms around you and his heart beating in sync with yours.

You traced lazy patterns against his chest, savouring the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. The rise and fall of his chest matched the rhythm of your own, a soothing melody that filled the room with a sense of peace.

As the minutes stretched into hours, you lost track of time, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Words became unnecessary, replaced by the silent language of touch and gaze, of shared breaths and lingering kisses.

And in that suspended moment, surrounded by the warmth of Loki's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next day at the TVA seemed like any other, with paperwork piled high and the hum of activity filling the air. You tried your best to act as though nothing had changed between you and Loki, but the memory of your shared confession lingered in the back of your mind, adding an extra layer of tension to your interactions.

As you made your way through the office, Loki fell into step beside you, his demeanour relaxed and nonchalant. "Good morning, love," he greeted you casually, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You froze mid-step, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as Loki's endearment hung in the air. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mobius raising an eyebrow in surprise, his gaze flickering between you and Loki with keen interest.

"Love?" Mobius echoed, his tone laced with amusement. "Since when did you two become so... affectionate?"

You cleared your throat, desperately trying to regain your composure. "Uh, it's nothing, Mobius," you stammered, shooting Loki a warning glance. "Just a... figure of speech."

But Loki merely smirked, undeterred by Mobius' scrutiny. "Oh, it's much more than that, Mobius," he replied, his voice dripping with mischief. "Isn't that right, my dear?"

You groaned inwardly, realising that Loki had no intention of letting you off the hook. With a resigned sigh, you shot Mobius an apologetic look before turning back to Loki. "Fine," you conceded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But let's keep the pet names to a minimum, okay?"

Loki chuckled, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "As you wish, honey." And with that, he sauntered off, leaving you to face Mobius' raised eyebrow and knowing smirk alone.

As you returned to your work, you couldn't help but shake your head at the unpredictable chaos that seemed to follow Loki wherever he went. But despite the embarrassment of the moment, you couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed in your chest at the thought of being called "love" by the God of Mischief himself.

❛ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ❜

#loki #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x female reader smut #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #loki x f!reader #loki oneshot

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delicatebarness · 9 months ago

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barnes' girl | chapter two

Summary: Attending a party with Yelena, you encounter an old fling, Harley. As the night progresses, you grapple with your feelings. Leading to a morning filled with tension and unspoken emotions.

Warning: Alcohol Consumption. Drug Use (Not Reader, or main characters.) Sexual Situations. Intoxication. Emotional Distress. Aggressive Behavior. Power Dynamics.

Word Count: 2890

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A/N: I'm poorly and I wanted more of these two okay :( - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Barnes' Girl: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series. | @im-alestan | @carrotlove | @scott-loki-barnes | @mrsstuckyboo

The party was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Packed with people– music, chatter, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed filled the air. You grabbed Yelena’s hand, letting her lead the way as she navigated the crowded rooms.

“Let’s get drunk!” Yelena shouted over the thumping music, pulling you toward the makeshift bar in the kitchen. Filling your cup with something sweet, and strong, you felt a warm buzz rush through your body, taking effect within minutes.

The day's worries melted away as your night wore on. You danced and laughed with Yelena by your side. Making everything seem brighter and lighter, the alcohol helped you enjoy yourself. And, it wasn’t long before you and Yelena noticed Harley standing across the room, his eyes fixated on you, his familiar face sparking a flutter of old feelings in the pit of your stomach.

With a sly grin, Yelena nudged you. “Go talk to him,” she urged, giving you a playful push in his direction.

For years, Harley had become a constant presence at these parties, and the physical attraction between you was undeniable. The many nights you found yourself exploring each other’s bodies, tangled in strange beds together, was a testament to that connection. Yet, unbeknown to anyone as to why, the relationship never evolved beyond casual hookups.

You had harbored a quiet hope that something more might develop, but it never did.

Approaching Harley, the alcohol mixing with the atmosphere seemed to amplify everything. Glancing up at you, his face brightened with his familiar, charismatic smile.

“Hey, you,” Harley said, his voice low and inviting. “It’s been a little while.”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s good to see you.” The alcohol gave you a little more courage, but you couldn’t help but focus on the flutter of nervousness.

His hand lingered a bit longer than necessary, brushing your arm as he spoke. “You look amazing tonight,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. His gaze filled with warmth and with an intensity in his eyes causing your pulse to quicken. “How about we get out of here?”

Before you could process what was happening, his lips found yours, kissing you with an urgency that surprised you. Pulling you close, his hand slid around your waist, lifting you slightly. Your heart raced as you felt the heat radiating off him.

The kiss felt familiar, and at first, almost like a comfort. But, as the kiss deepened, something unsettling began to come into realization for you. The excitement you once felt seemingly began to fade, a growing sense of discomfort replacing it. His hand roamed up your chest as his lips moved against yours, pushing you against the wall.

As you tried to focus on the kiss, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right, something had changed. The heat that would usually course between you fell distant, cold. Flashing in your mind like a film reel, images of Bucky appeared, and the words that fell from his lips earlier that day echoed loudly in your ears.

Your spark for Harley was no longer in sight, your mind had chosen another.

Gently pushing him away, you broke the kiss. His eyes were half-closed, still caught up in the moment. It didn’t take long for his expression to shift to confusion as he took in your sudden withdrawal.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “I thought we were having a good time?”

You tried to steady your racing heart, taking deep breaths. “Harley… I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is right.”

Furrowing his brow, he searched your face for an explanation. “What do you mean? This is our thing.”

“I know,” you said, your voice steadying as you spoke. “But tonight, I… I just don’t feel the same way. It’s as if, what we had isn’t there anymore.”

Harley’s face fell, disappointment and frustration crossed his features. “You’re serious? After all these years, you just don’t feel it?”

You nodded, a strange feeling of regret mixed with relief coursing through you. “Yeah, I guess… Maybe, I’m just not in the same place anymore.”

He was taken aback, staring at you for a moment. “Alright, if that’s how you feel,” he said, stepping back, and raising his hands in defeat. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Watching Harley walk away, a mix of emotions coursed through you. The kiss had been a reminder of how much things were changing. You couldn’t shake the feeling of disillusionment as you turned to find Yelena. Even though the night had brought clarity, it was leaving you with a sense of unresolved feelings and a newfound determination to confront the person who had recently occupied your thoughts– James Barnes.

Stumbling onto the patio, the cool night air hit your flushed face as you fumbled with your phone. The distant sound of the music and laughter from the party seemed to fade as you scrolled through your contacts, the city lights blurring in your vision. You leaned against the railing for support as you came across Bucky’s number and hit call with trembling fingers.

“Hello? Doll?” Bucky’s voice came through, groggy but with an instant concern.

“B-Bucky?” you slurred, hiccuping slightly. “Why aren’t you asleep? Isn’t it late?”

“I was sleeping until you called, babydoll. Where are you?” His voice was a mix of worry and frustration, but mostly worry.

“At a party with Yelena, but I can’t find her,” you mumbled, your words blending as you glanced around the patio, seeing only strangers smoking.

“I told you to get an early night,” Bucky said, his tone stern but not unkind.

“I know,” you whined, pouting as you leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the railing. “But, I wanted to see if there was anything still there with Harley. But, there isn’t.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Bucky’s voice was firm and resolute. “Send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

“I thought I wanted him,” you hiccupped again, tears threatening to spill over. “But I don’t. I want you.”

“Doll, send me your location,” he repeated, his voice steady but more insistent.

You ignored his request, continuing to babble incoherently, telling him facts about hydrangea flowers and how they get their color. Bucky’s tone shifted, becoming more commanding. “You have five seconds to give me your location,” he said, beginning to count down. “Five… four…”

"Um, I’m not sure,” you whispered, your voice small and sad, glancing around the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Alright, baby,” he softened, “go outside for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, pushing through the crowd and out the door, your steps unsteady. The night air was crisp, and the sound of traffic and city life enveloped you. You shivered slightly, both from the cold and your anxiety.

“What do you see around you?” he asked, his voice a calming presence in your ear.

You looked around, struggling to steady your gaze. "I see... a streetlight flickering and a corner convenience store with a red awning. There’s a mural on the wall next to it, and the street’s lined with parked cars," you managed, your voice shaky.

“Good girl, stay there. I’m coming to get you,” he reassured you. The promise of his arrival brought a sense of relief, and you clung to it, waiting for the familiar sight of his car to appear.

Pulling up to the curb, Bucky emerged with a concerned expression from a black SUV, its dark windows reflecting the city’s neon lights. His intense gaze scanned the street before locking onto you. He approached you swiftly, as always, his presence was both commanding and a comfort, his arm wrapping around your waist steadying you on your feet.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he murmured with a low rumble. Guiding you gently toward the car, his grip firm yet tender.

Once inside the SUV, the seats were cool against your skin, and the dim lighting offered a relaxing contrast to the chaos of the party. The scent of leather grounded you as if mixed with the spice of Bucky’s cologne. Settling beside you, Bucky’s body was a solid and reassuring presence.

The driver navigated the streets, and you leaned into Bucky’s side, feeling the exhaustion and alcohol catching up with you. “I’m hungry,” you mumbled, your stomach growling softly.

“Did you eat before going out?” he asked, his tone gentle yet concerned. He watched you with worry as his head tilted slightly.

You shook your head, pouting slightly. “No.”

Bucky sighed, glancing at the driver. “What do you want?”

“Chicken nuggets,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. Your childlike request lightens the mood of the night.

Making eye contact with the driver, Bucky nodded. The SUV diverted its route to a nearby fast-food place, the lights casting a warm glow as you pulled into the drive-thru. Not long after, you were handed a bag of chicken nuggets and a strawberry milkshake. You happily devoured the nuggets and drink in the back seat, a smile spreading across your face as you played with the rings on Bucky’s fingers, humming along to the low sound of the radio.

When you finally reached his penthouse, your eyes widened in awe. The spacious, modern design with floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city skyline– far from your shared apartment. The sleek furniture, soft lighting, and overall luxurious atmosphere left you momentarily speechless. The vast elegance of the space was overwhelming, making you feel small yet safe.

Bucky guided you to a guest bedroom, helping you settle into the plush bed. Softly lit, the room held a sense of comfort. “Get some rest, little doll,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Thank you, sir,” you murmured, your eyes already drifting closed, the softness of the bed and the warmth of his presence lulling you into sleep.

Walking up in an unfamiliar bed, the soft silk sheets and plush pillows only slightly eased your confusion. The room was luxurious, a far cry from your modest apartment. Panic began to set in as you realized you had no clear memory of how you’d ended up here. Quickly sitting up, the room spun slightly as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night.

Heart racing, you scrambled out of bed and stumbled toward the door. The thick carpet muffled your steps as you cautiously made your way through the penthouse, your anxiety growing with each passing second. The memories of the night before were hazy, and the unfamiliar surroundings heightened your sense of disorientation.

Finally, you reached the kitchen, the smell of food, cooking, guiding you. You peeked around the corner, and there he was—Bucky, clad in nothing, but sweatpants, standing at the stove. Flipping pancakes with easy confidence, his movements precise and rhythmic.

Relief washed over you as you saw him, though you still felt uneasy. “Bucky?” you called out, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his face lighting up with a warm, reassuring smile. “Morning, doll. I was just making breakfast.”

You nodded, though your expression was still one of confusion. “I… I don’t remember much from last night. How did I end up here?”

Bucky’s smile softened. He set down the spatula and walked over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You called me late last night, and I came to pick you up. You were pretty out of it, so I brought you back here to know you were safe.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Oh, right. I’m sorry for causing any trouble.”

He shook his head, dismissing your apology with a gentle smile. “No trouble at all. How about some pancakes? I made a batch just for you.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the aroma of the pancakes was comforting. “I’d love some,” you said, offering a small smile in return.

Bucky guided you to the kitchen island, pulling out a chair for you. You sat down, still feeling slightly disoriented but grateful for the familiarity of Bucky’s presence. He served you a stack of pancakes, their golden-brown surfaces glistening with syrup.

As you began to eat, the atmosphere in the kitchen grew quieter. Bucky took a seat across from you, his demeanor shifting subtly. His usual warmth and easy confidence were replaced by a slight stiffness. His eyes, which normally sparkled with kindness, were now clouded with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

You noticed the change, feeling a pang of anxiety. “Bucky, is everything okay?”

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, but the words felt forced, lacking their usual sincerity.

The silence stretched on, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. You took another bite of your pancakes, trying to find something to say. “Thank you for looking after me last night. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Bucky nodded, his gaze distant. “It’s no problem.”

You could sense the tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The warmth of the pancakes and the comfort of the penthouse felt almost suffocating now. “Bucky, please, tell me what’s going on. Did I do something wrong?”

Bucky's silence was punctuated only by the occasional clink of cutlery against plates. Finally, he broke the uneasy quiet. “Do you not remember what happened last night?”

“No…” you admitted, your voice small. “It’s all a blur.” Your heart raced, a mix of confusion and guilt flooding you. “Bucky, what did I do to make you so pissed with me?”

“It’s not– it’s not what you did,” he snapped, frustration evident in his tone. “It’s the fact that you don’t remember a damn thing and now I’m left questioning if it was all just the alcohol talking.”

You felt a surge of defensiveness but also deep regret. “I’m– Bucky, I have no clue what you’re talking about!”

Bucky's face reddened with a surge of anger, flaring his nostrils as he clenched his jaw. His fingers gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so tightly that the knuckles turned white. His gaze was locked on you, eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that made the air feel electric.

His voice rose, sharp and unyielding, slicing through the heavy silence. “You told me last night that you didn’t want some guy named Harley, whoever the fuck that is!” His hand slammed down onto the counter with a loud thud, the sudden motion causing your body to flinch. “And then, you told me that you wanted me!” His shoulders were tense, rigid with frustration, and he took a step closer, his body language exuding a mix of fury and hurt.

He paced for a moment, his movements jerky and agitated, as if trying to contain the turmoil within him. “But you don’t remember that because you’re a little brat who cared more about intoxicating your mind than resting!” His voice cracked slightly, revealing the strain in his words, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his face contorting with a mix of anger and disbelief.

Your breath caught at Bucky’s outburst, his anger palpable and raw. For a moment, you sat frozen, processing his harsh words and the intensity of his emotions. Yet, as the seconds ticked by, something unexpected began to stir within you. The way he’d called you a “little brat,” the sheer force of his frustration– it was unnervingly exhilarating.

His anger was like a spark igniting something deep inside you. You found yourself drawn to the power in his voice, the way his eyes darkened with intensity. The tension in his body, the rigid set of his shoulders; it was all somehow captivating. You bit your lip, trying to mask the shift in your feelings.

Instinctively, you stepped closer, lowering your gaze and giving him your most sincere, tear-filled eyes. You let your lips form a small, apologetic pout. “I really am sorry, sir,” you said softly, your voice filled with genuine regret. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at you, a mixture of frustration and reluctant amusement flickering in his gaze. He folded his arms across his chest, his posture still tense but his expression softening.

“Do you have any idea what would be happening to you right now,” he said, his tone carrying a blend of frustration and an odd, stern amusement, “if this discussion was within an agreed arrangement?”

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding at his words. The idea of facing his consequences, of navigating through this complicated emotional journey, was both intimidating and strangely thrilling. You could sense that Bucky was struggling with his emotions, trying to reconcile the feelings of frustration with the undeniable connection between you.

“I understand, sir,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I just want to understand where we stand and how we can move forward.”

Bucky’s gaze softened further, though a hint of his earlier sternness remained. He stepped closer, reaching out to gently cup your cheek with his hand. The touch was both tender and commanding, a reminder of the complexity of your relationship.

---

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missmarveledsblog · 3 months ago

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Someone older [part two ] (Tony stark x reader ) 18+

summary : a night that tony stark makes y/n realise he was right when she needed someone older only he was gonna make sure it would be him from now on

warning : fluffy , goofy and smutty fic ahead , ( age gap) soft!tony , jealousy , possesive , oral (fem recieving ) , overstimulation , body worship , fingering , squirting , unprotected p in v ( dont be silly wrap that willy ) , daddy kink . written on my phone so not proof read (soz ) picture doesnt decribe reader more of cover for fic

Maybe it was a dream , to even come to terms with the whole idea of going on a date with Tony Stark. Come on, it had to be right . Yet she was running down the halls of the compound like her ass was on fire . almost running into the door as she began pounding, almost hitting Bruce in the chest when he opened it up . Although the smirk on his face as he walked off out of the room confused her a little and the even bigger smirk on natasha Romanoff's face told her maybe the widow knew why she was currently panting in the doorway .

“ stank asked me out” she held her chest as she caught her breath thinking she might take Steve up in his offer to get her a little more fit.

“ Yeah bucky kinds already told us , god it's about time come on let i already got the detail off stark and wanda ready” nat stood walking out leading more questions that what was originally going to be asked and honestly impressive of how quick the widow could find things out even if bucky didn't spill the beans . The two ladies walk barely a few feet only to see wanda standing excitedly at the female science bro's door , eyes flashing red before an excited giggle spilled from her lips .

“ ohh you’ll love it “she hyped as the now three walked into the suite before she could even ask nat was pushing her into the bathroom , a. stern look like a mother trying to get her child to do bath time as the scarlet witch was preoccupied in her closet .

It wasn't like him to feel this way , the fact he was nervous was a testament of how big this was for him . maybe he was late to the game, the way could still remember the first day she came into their lives. How he stumbled over his own feet when fury introduced them to the woman . The whole thing was funny in itself when the avengers were tracking down a hacker and turned out to be a young woman who made a minor slip because she didn't agree with what her bosses were doing or in fact she realised they were not who they said they were . What was the best part when she clapped fury on the shoulder and told him “ About time you got here” . turned out the company was hydra under the guise as medical research , she was there to let them research that would look into ‘ perfect’ minds . She had an impressive high IQ ,photographic memory which made her a valuable asset to have . Of course she was asked to join the team , work in the lab as well as on the jet out of the action closet she was scolding the hulk for throwing an agent and nearly hitting her or when she first met loki and decided to talk to the god the whole trip home. Every waking moment from the first time they met went from a schoolboy crush to something bigger , something stronger , it honestly scared the shit out of him . Messing this up scared him even more from the moment she said yes and out of the lab he got to work . He told Nat what he had planned even before he got the confirmation and yet he was still wondering if it was too much or did he need to do more . He needed it to be perfect , especially for her. Something about y/n made him a goner .

any other time she would have loved the widow making her glammed up but now she was just well too nervous . Wanda left an outfit on the bed before heading down to enjoy a movie night with vision while Nat was busy working away on her hair and make up . she had to give it to the widow she was giving nothing away even the outfit didnt even hint at it . it was a short body con , her leather trench coat as well as her knee high boots . an outfit sexy and classy in its own way before nat was patting her on the ass and telling her to let her know how it goes when she gets back . checking herself over wondering was she over or underdressed for whatever was going to be their date . The knock on her door had her heart thumping and her hands sweating pulling on the boots and grabbing her bag . only see Tony Stark standing shirt and dress pants looking like sin itself before her .

“ wow you look … beautiful “ he smiled holding his arm out.

“ not so bad yourself” a wink and her arm easily sliding and linking. She didn't know how she was playing it so cool when her mouth was watering or the fact her heart may burst out of her chest at any time.

“ Well, let's not waste our beauty huh? let me show you how you should be treated” he stood a little taller , smug grin on his face as he passed his fellow male avengers . leading her out she was surprised to see he was actually driving the car himself and of course it was a sleek black sports car , one she mentioned she likes most out of the luxury collection of cars. opening the door , even putting her belt on for her a kiss on the cheek and wink before he went to his own side .

“ any hints” she asked sweetly .

“ nah i don't think i will , just wait and see” he chuckled .

“ ominous much “.

“ surprise is more the vibe im going for plus hints would give it away “ he smirked as gate of compound open and for once he didn't care for the paparazzi yelling and calling his name trying to find out the latest scoop and part of him wanted to stop and tell him he was on a date so the world would know she was his .

“ ok how do you guys deal with that , i mean constantly around” she looked around wide eyed. “ shit i should hide right?”.

“ nah its ok , you get used to it over a while , they can be intense but nothing compared to what we actually do “ he patted her thigh wondering a second if he should leave his hand there or not then he saw her hand thought it was better to hold that instead or bring it to his lips making the flashing light more frenzied.

“At least this time I'll be front page not in cuffs “ she snorted as they drove off fully leaving the flashing light in the background as the engine roared.

“ wait what you mean cuffs” his own wide eye look now.

“ when you guys met me first I was arrested first i mean it was shield holding cell so wasn't that bad , plus i think that when fury decided to offer me a job” she explained easily .

“ what made you blow the whistle , that could of gotten you well deeper trouble”.

“ because i took that job out of desperation i mean ok i only ever told nat and fury … wanda seen it as did loki but that doesn't count, when i took that job it was after college and i couldn't get a job even with everything because of my gender or my background. you know you read my locked file “ she smirked.

“ only glanced really” he shrugged .

“ well i wasn't brought up in the best well environment , my parents were gone from my life so i was left to fend for myself which honestly i don't mind i think i was better of in a shitty way but it was tough sometimes i wouldn't know where my next meal would come from , then i decided to use the so called gift that i was given so i started counting cards and underground gambling which worked but brought me on the radar of the wrong people , naive or just desperate to survive i believed that it was all above board which honestly was stupid of me but then i noticed something was up so i would watch my boss logging into the main system and well i seen i was gonna be a experiment for the bad guys which i would of looked past but the list wasn't just me and i couldn’t let that happen so i began to play with shield only instead of fully covering myself i left a crumb “.

“ I remember the questioning very well , you ran fury through a loop” he chuckled .

“ Because he was a dick at first, “ she laughed.

He had her talking , speaking about everything, anything , not for the fact he loved her attention on him that was just a bonus but if she looked caught on to where they were going it would have blown the surprise. Yet he was learning more about the woman he spent his days with , learned more about a background that a file couldn't tell him . ones that made him like her more , the way she appreciated life in a different perspective than he did , a more real outlook he would never have given he was basically from total different world in the way not just in age because it did come up the vast difference in their ages but yet she talk in a more maturely than his own . It was hard to believe she was in her mid twenties at times yet in her maturity she was still her age in a sense with humour . The age was slightly still in the back of his mind and yet every time she would talk or even look at him a certain way it would fade away .

“ Holy shit” she smiled brightly looking at the diner , the place she love most in her life as she made comments about a lot few times not thinking it would stick in the billionaire's brains .

“ its not the club but hey hopefully you'll like it alot more “ he chuckled as he got out of the car running to her side , hand held out to help her out of the car only this time he intertwined his fingers with hers seeing the flush on her cheeks which only fuel his confidence to pull her to his side wrapping his hand around her wrap waist and surprise look on her face. the door opening to see the place almost empty bar a few security detail more so for press than an actual threat as she was brought to the very booth she spent her time at continuously studying when she was in college and Martha, a waitress and friend waiting .

“ Wow you do pay attention huh” she laughed heading to hug the woman .

“ of course i do sweetheart “ tony grinned enjoying how big the smile was on her face , of course he could of went to the hottest restaurant , club or venue but y/n was different , she wasn't type to be impressed by all that , well unless it was equipment for the lab but even when natasha brought her to get clothes the bill wasn’t what they thought it was until nat made her spend a lot more .

“ what can i get for you two , or should i say for you sir” martha stood already writing away .

“ can mess with perfection “ she beamed up at the older woman .

“ whats good here ?” .

“ ohh he would love the cheese burgers” she sat up excitedly .

“ Well then I will have that and fries thanks”.

“ coming up and missy better come around more often i miss you “ martha eyed her up playfully .

“ I miss you, Martha,” she stood and hugged the woman, yet tony eyes couldn't help roam her figure . Of course he was only a man and she was an absolutely stunning woman , the way the dress hugged her body in a goddess-like way . She was a hidden gem , a woman who could grace any cover of a magazine or catwalk . the way she occupied his mind for the longest time or when he was fucking someone else how it was her face he was seeing , her moans he heard . Emotionally and physically she was living in his head rent free.

the diner was filled with chatter and light conversation . Not one of awkward uncomfortable flirting although the flirty tone was present but it was very much welcome then it came time to leave and the rest of his master plan to come about one that spoke volume in itself and yet she had no idea although instead of the sports car the limo was awaiting the two . It was impressive how much this man held her attention so much that the rest of the world was in the background .

“ ladies first” he smirked opening the door . holding his hand out to lead her in the limo almost holding her close to him in a way he couldn’t before. feeling the heat of her body at his side , every single detail of her face , the way her eyes almost sparkled as she was talking. his eyes glancing at the pillow plump lips before looking back up to see her doing the same . hand on her cheek , softly caressing the softness of her skin , watching her leaning to his touch . agonisingly slow his face came close waiting for her to stop him but her eyes almost a need in the gaze as she moved closer turning herself more to the man. both inches from each other , both waiting for the other to make the move , a teasing game almost daring the other until Tony snapped .

“ never one for patience” he winked before crashing his lips to hers . how he went so long, how he went being in her presence and never doing this was beyond him , one taste of her lips and he was addicted, the feeling of her palm on his chest like she was in control of bringing every nerve in his body to life alone. effortlessly he lifted her up putting her on his lap of course she was meant to be there with how perfect she fit in it. her hand in his hair and his in hers that soft sensual kiss pacing in a heated passion that had his cock hardening and her thighs clenched . a soft moan when his tongue danced with her not a fight in any form for dominance , fully submitting herself to him completely .

The heated make out session pulled to an end when the limo came to a stop and her brows furrowed in confusion to not see the compound but an air ground one the Avengers had used many times and a private jet awaiting on the tarmac . even adding to her confusion was seeing her luggage being brought to the jet . the realisation of the scarlet witches actions and her leaving before y/n was even out of the shower .

“ It's cute you thought the date was over “ he smirked fixing her hair and wiping her lips and she had done the same .

“ Where are we going or is it a surprise?”

“ what you think , come on we have a week long date my dear “ he got out of the car holding his hand out as she shook her head with a smile on her lips.

“ you , tony stark is going to be away from the lab for a full week” she questioned.

“ hey it's overdue and apparently so is your time off so better time spend it than together huh? “ he pecked her lips and lifted her up with a squeak. "Plus if i'm going to prove a point i gotta do it right” he carried her easily towards the jet ignoring the looks on the flight attendants faces mixture of sadness and jealousy all rolled in one .

“ holy shit “ she gasped looking around of course she was used to the jet on mission but this was divine luxury . every part of her felt almost afraid to touch anything and yet she was in awe of it all . it wasn't til she felt tony's hand on her lower back leading her to sit . “ this is insane “ she looked around seeing the big mounted tv , private bar just to the way .

“ Yeah, not bad huh ? now if you're hungry or want a drink, it's a long flight just let me or these nice ladies know” he turned eyes locked more on her still swollen kiss bitten lips .

“ would you like anything mister stark “ soft sultry voice called as the woman almost purred . of course this woman was gorgeous as where the others that stood .

“ you want anything sweetheart “ he almost whispered looking down not once did he spare any female in the vicinity a look , his gaze solely on her.

“ no im ok”

“ No, we don't want anything your excused” he called still not once looking nor seeing the look of disbelief on the leggy blondes face as she and her fellow co workers walked off .

“ How long is the flight?” she asked sweetly, batting her lashes .

“ yeah no not telling you , wanna watch a movie or ? “ he chuckled .

“ or we can pretend to watch one “ she smirked .

“ It's like you can read my mind here, check this out” he stood hitting a button as the sofa began moving out and down into a bed.

“ showing off much ?”

“ its working right” he shot back .

“ i mean its not the lab but its not to shabby i guess” she shrugged .

“ and i quote you said its this is insane “ he chuckled .

“ it was in the moment”.

“ hmm i better up the steaks then right ?” he pulled her close, making her giggle like a schoolgirl .

“ Excuse me mr stark are we going the usual Paris route , you know the one you usually bring your guest” the leggy blonde came back with a snideness to her tone. The way the jealousy poured from the woman was honestly amusing in a sense.

“ were aren't going to paris “ he called back .

“ oh is it russia or greece” she answered sweetly yet the glare at y/n told another story.

“ so europe is destination ?” y/n pulled his attention back to her not that it needed much effort.

“ still a surprise but yes europe” he sighed .

“ worked for the others” the woman scoffed.

“ it is a beautiful place” she smiled .

“ worked for all those other women” the woman scoffed.

“ next time we can go paris “ she turned to tony making him grin even larger .

“ mr stark doesn't do next times “ the woman cut in almost growling .

“ i think mr stark would disagree , right sir “ y/n batted her lashes feeling his grip tighten on her hip .

“ she is right i usually don't do next times ..” he said as the woman beamed. “ but that changed the moment your cuffed up little ass came into my life” he kissed her lips as they heard a huff of annoyance and stomping steps . pulling back he lifted one of the seats taking out pillows and blankets as they made the makeshift bed as she was looking through the movie selection hitting whatever looked vaguely ok before sitting on the bed as tony walked to the bar pulling out the champagne as well as two glasses .

“ so europe , 7 to 9 hours, please tell me my luggage is accessible,” she asked .

“ no but some of my clothes are in the closet there,” he nodded his head as she got up, pulling the boots to her feet. a coy smile as she walked over to the closet looking, an amused shake of her head to see the various band t-shirts as well as suits a part of home wherever he went it seemed . pulling the largest one out turning to the man a hidden smile her face one filled with so much mischief it would make loki himself proud.

“ small bed room and bathroom is ther.. or there is totally yeah nice “ he stopped short as she pulled the zipper of her dress down letting it fall to her feet as she pulled the t shirt slowly on her body before heading to the sofa bed blinking up at the man in pure innocence like she didn't just stripped in front of the man , also noting to the girl for the matching lace set .

“ your trouble you know that “ he chuckled shaking his head .

“ me never “ she feigned innocence as he dove at her making her erupt into laughter .

“ maybe as much trouble as i am that's saying something sweetcheeks “ he leaned over her hitching her leg on his hip and grabbing a handful of her ass to emphasise the nickname as a gasp fell from her lips .

“ i think i got you beat old man “ she mused .

“ pfft old man” he asked as she nodded playful glint in her eye almost daring him to do something. “ i'll show you an old man “ he leaned down his breathe fanning on her ear before he nipped her ear lobe . half lidded eye nothing his mind could conjure up would be even close to the real thing.

She could feel it building deep within her lower belly , every part of her body was under his control to bend and will in any way he saw fit . She could never find herself getting tired of kissing him, already completely addicted to the taste of him on her lips , her tongue and yet the feeling on his lips on her skin was something else . She wasn't a virgin nor lacking experience and yet this felt different , this felt so much better than before and all he was doing was kissing down her jaw , sensual in its touch making every part of her body tingle in anticipation for what was to come next . his hands slipped under his shirt that adorned her body sending goosebumps in its wake . effortlessly picking her up legs wrapping around his waist and hand in his hair as she kissed his lips harder , pure lust and something else in the action as they walked the short distance to the bedroom, something she could marvel at another time . pulling the T-shirt from her body throwing it wherever it wasn't a priority same with tony shirt, mouth watering at the pure muscle and toned body she may of known was there but now she didn't have to hide it , shameless oogle the billionaire's physique , the strong arms that lift heavy machinery , how the veins popped during a hard inventions now she had those arms around her , calloused strong hands on her body placing her on the bed as he took in the woman before him . the black lace bra and panties looking like a sin filled vision of an angel in his eyes . one hand releasing the clasp of her bra throwing it along with his own clothes like each clothing article offended him with their presence and in that moment they did . the fact it hid this work of art from his gaze was a crime against all .

hand gliding up her ribs before cupping her perky perfect breast , finger teasing the now peaks of her nipples making a soft sigh filled whimper from her mouth a sound he needed recorded and played everyday of his life .

“ fucking perfect “ he groaned feeling her heat against the straining of his cock , the delious grind of her hips , that friction that made them both moan . “ impatient” he replied cockily, a roll of his own hips making her moan out his name .

“ please touch me , fuck me , eat me whole just do something “ she breathe out needing some sort of realise , standing up as he pulled himself free and her panties down her leg. he would usually do it , get it over with get his own release but no he needed to take his time , pick her apart piece by piece , come apart every way he could as he kissed down tauntly slow making her squirm and wiggle.

feeling the soft skin of her body under his lips , the scent of her arousal almost calling to every sense in her body making his own pupils blow wide with lust . her sound , her everything had him gone , kissing the plush expanse of her thighs taunting and teasing but at this stage he didn't know if he was teasing her or himself . impatiently he dove in , the moment she hit his tongue he was ready to spend the rest of his life right there . like nectar of the god as his tongue went from weeping entrance to her puffy clit , smirk went he felt her hand tangle in his hair or her hips bucking following his ministration.

“ fuck right there” she cried out only for his lips to seal around the peak making her cry out, thighs locking around his head as her eyes rolled back . wave and wave of pleasure as tony stark , iron man ate her out like it was his mission , his sole goal in life.

He was going to snap her in half she was sure of it and yet she didn't want him to stop . leaning up on her elbows watching the man she dreamt of devouring her like his first and last meal all in one. orgasm after orgasm she could feel her stomach tightening once more that blinding light hitting her eyes and she felt the coil snap once more , pushing his head lazily .

“ baby girl you are divine “ he kneeled between her legs wiping her slick off his mouth .

“ i think you killed me … a few times “ she laughed her skin had a sheen of sweat on her body .

“ not bad for an old man then “ he winked, leaning down almost making her feel like his prey .

“Well old man , since you got a taste it's my turn” her hand on his chest right at the reactor core ready to push him down only for him to grab her wrist.

“ Sweet but not happening now, lay back and be a good girl” he nipped her bottom lip , kissing her softly , a moan from her lips at the taste of herself something she thought could be sexy or hot. Then she felt his finger gliding in and out of her awaiting hole. feeling his fingers curl and hit spots she never felt before . arching her back , breathless panting and moans being swallowed for his kiss. she felt that familiar and yet this time it was a different feeling. It was stronger and more intense the pressure on her lower half was different and when his thumb hit the overstimulated button with a scream . she felt her arousal gushing from her body.

“ good fucking girl “ he rasped helping her ride out the pleasure .

“ oh sweet fuck your gonna kill me , I've never done that before” she panted a lazy smile on her lips .

“ need a break?” He kissed her cheek.

“ Never” she giggled, pushing him on his back with a thump , like he unlocked a new part of her, a new insatiable monster . a roll of her hips , his hand falling to his hips a tip grip. lifting her hips stroking his hardening length before sinking down feeling every ridge and vein as her walls making both moan at the feeling .

“ fuck baby , you feel like heave so fucking tight “ he rasped feeling her walls clench around his length . “ most perfect little pussy “ he growled, unable to give her control as he lifted up and put her on her back . slow and meticulous trust of his hips trying to keep his senses but it only went so far .

“ mmm fuck tony harder.. yes yes fuck like that daddy” she moaned unaware of the words coming out of her lips yet he could of came there and then .

“ such a good girl for daddy aren't … whose pussy is this baby” he grunted slamming in almost knocking every thought out of her head . “ come on baby who owns this perfect pussy” .

“ you daddy , it's … its yours” pleasure nonsensical babbles falling from her lips.

“ fucking right it is , no one gets this , no one get you like this baby only daddy” he snapped his hips harder feeling his own release coming . “ Come on baby cum on daddy's cock “ he groaned, finger circling her puffy clit , he could feel her wall clench, sucking him in , he could feel it coming after all this time he could tell how her body reacted . her release hit like a wall as his own came not long after painting her walls white as he fucked them through their highs .

both sweating and panting mess as he fell right beside her pulling her face to his to kiss her lips, another thing he couldn't doing that either.

“ I stand corrected old man” she yawn putting her head on his chest.

“ I prefer daddy than old man” he teases, making her cheeks flushed. “ Come on, let's get you cleaned up “ he stood up putting his boxer on grabbing his T-shirt placing it on her body . She felt almost boneless when he lifted her up carrying her to the bathroom a decent size giving it was on a jet but then again it was a stark one . placing her on the counter so gently , so soft in affection .

“ sorry sweetheart “ he kissed her cheek when she hissed at the feeling of the wet cloth against her . “Wait here I'll get you some bottoms” he kissed her nose . only leaving for a second before coming back with boxers he called back to someone to clean the bedroom before smiling fondly at her. putting them on it was like a whole other side to the man before her , it felt it was such a personal interaction that didn't help that strong growing feeling.

“ Come on baby lets get you some rest “ he kissed her nose once more lifting her up .

“ i can walk, Tony,” she snorted.

“ Well I don't want to let you go so deal with it “ he held her closer. the leggy blonde before carrying the plastic bag with the soaked sheets evident seething look on her face .

“ would you like me to help you out mister stark “ she asked.

“ nah me and my girl are gonna watch a movie to get some sleep” he walked off while y/n gave a little finger wave as they went back to the main area . “ Actually I could use you “ he called making the woman almost run .

“ I knew you would sir .. I mean I know how to .” she began only for tony cut her off .

“ yeah won't happen again but can you get a blanket thanks she feels a little cold”.

With huff and stomp the woman went off only for her coworker to return with a blanket and smile on her face.

“ If you need anything, please ask me anytime” she handed the blanket before heading off .

“ your girl” y/n finally spoke up .

“ well duh” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“I'm not complaining” She snuggled into his side feeling her eyes getting heavy, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles before she drifted off. Unaware of the man's eyes on her in such adoration and awe kissing the top of her head. Before her he didn't think of relationships, he never gave them a thought it was usually a fling that never lasted too long. But down looking down at the woman upon his chest, her eyelashes touching her cheeks, soft snore falling from her parted lips. He knew he loved her but it only cemented how in love he really was . He didn't have a perfect mind to remember everything like she could but he remembered everything about her. The main reason he was bringing her to Italy, the way she talked about going, how big it was a dream of her. He remembered it because it was important to her, she in turn was important to him. Tony Stark the Playboy Bachelor was in love and he hoped she in turn was in love with him someday, even if he was someone older.

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here-be-misfit · 1 year ago

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So I'm reading The testament of Loki and idk if i like that the author included a character who self harms. I should feel represented but I don't feel like that.

Tho i do like the thought of Loki being in my mind and controlling me 🤭 this book is going to be interesting

#The testament of Loki #personal

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devilmen-collector · 11 months ago

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Origin of the names of the 7 kingdoms of Hell

Ever wonder where do the names of the kingdoms (or regions) of Hell come from? Let's find out in this trivia post :3

WARNING, this post contains religious theme. If you feel comfortable, please ignore this.

Gehenna

"Gehenna", in the Bible and in real life, was originally the name of the valley of Hinnom, outside of the city of Jerusalem. In this valley, many committed the gruesome sin of sacrificing children to the god Moloch. Because of this sin, the valley was cursed by the Jews and its name was used to call the final punishing place of the reprobate. In Christianity, "Gehenna" is used to designate the place where all the demons and the damned human will thrown in at the Last Judgement, "the lake of fire", "the unquenchable fire".

Tartaros

"Tartaros", or Tartarus, was originally the term to describe the abyss of torment and suffering for the wicked and the Titans in Greek mythology.

In the 4th century BC, Greek culture and language were spread to all Eastern Mediterranean countries by the conquest of Alexander the Great. Greek became the common language in these countries and remained so for many centuries. The New Testament of the Bible was written in Greek. The term "Tartaros" was adopted by Christianity to describe Hell. Although "Tartaros" doesn't technically appear in the Bible, the associated verb tartaroō ("throw to Tartaros") does. (The verb itself is a shortened form of another verb with similar meaning kata-tartaroō ("throw down to Tartaros").

In the Bible, Tartaros is the place where fallen angels are chained to wait for judgement.

Hades

The name of the underworld in Greek mythology. It was also adopted by Christianity and used to describe Hell. However, different from Gehenna and Tartaros, Hades is a little bit complicated.

Before the work of redemption was completed in Jesus's death and resurrection, the gate of Heaven was closed. So when a someone died, that person would go to Hell (Hades) ragardless of good or bad. However, in Hades, there was "a great chasm", according to the Bible, separating the good and the bad. The good people either didn't suffer or was purified of their venial sins, while the bad people on the other side really did suffer. No one from "the good side" could cross to the other side, and vice versa.

After Jesus died, his soul descended to Hades and released the just who were detained in Hades and brought them to Heaven, while leaving the damned on the other side of the chasm, waiting for the Last Judgement, after which, both Hades and the wicked in it will be thrown into Gehenna "the lake of fire", for eternal punishment.

Abyssos

The name "Abyssos" comes from "abyss", which is also a word to describe Hell. The precise word "Abyssos" does not exist in the Bible or mythology, as far as I know.

Paradise Lost

This country shares its name with the famous work written by the poet John Milton in the 17th century. The poem Paradise Lost is a dramatized version that retells the story of the fallen angels and their role in the fall of Adam and Eve.

Niflheim

The name comes from Norse mythology of the Scandinavian people. Originally, Niflheim was realm of primordial ice and fog, being one of the two primordial realms, the other being Muspelheim, the realm of fire. Later, the realm became the abode of Hel, the daughter of the god Loki, and it became the afterlife for those who didn't die a heroic or notable death, overlapping with another realm in Norse cosmology, Helheim.

Abaddon

In the Bible, "Abaddon" is both a place and an entity. As a place, Abaddon is the place of destruction, the realm for the dead. As an individual entity, Abaddon is described in the Bible as "a king, the angel of the bottomless pit; whose name in Hebrew is Abaddon, and in Greek Apollyon; in Latin Exterminans" - Revelation 9:11

Now "Abaddon" is entirely tied with the meaning of destruction. Abaddon itself means destruction or "place of destruction". The root of the word abad means perish, or destroy. Both the Greek name Apollyon and the Latin name Exterminans mean destroyer.

#what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb trivia #whb gehenna #whb tartaros #whb hades #whb avisos #whb abyssos #whb paradise lost #whb niflheim #whb abaddon

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sunflowerdigs · 1 year ago

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It's a testament to how dynamic Loki and Mobius' relationship is that Eric Martin currently describes Mobius as a sweetie pie and likely to soften the truth for Loki. Because Mobius' purpose as a character at the start of the series was to be that voice of unvarnished truth for Loki. His lack of emotional connection to Loki was what allowed him to carry out his role in the story at that time (and, indeed, he was so frank and unyielding that some fans have called that interrogation scene a torture scene). So, for him now to be unable to carry out that role for Loki, for him to have gone from uncaring interrogator to "sweetie pie", shows exactly how much change that relationship has undergone since ep1, and shows that the transformation is based on Mobius coming to care for Loki more and more over the course of the series (and vice versa).

And I don't think Martin is incorrect. Loki going back to that earliest version of Mobius to get a truth that he knew he couldn't get from the Mobius of 2x06 proves that what Martin is saying is true.

#lokius #it's all coming together #loki series

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angelremnants · 1 month ago

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HIS FOR THE SEASON l L. Laufeyson

CHAPTER THREE,⠀Let the Festivities Begin

chapter summary : You, dearest reader, enter the glittering halls of the royal palace to step into a territory of many calculated dances and the promise of scandal or salvation. Amid the interplay of masquerade and mystery, you navigate a treacherous chessboard of masked suitors with poise born of both refined resolve and lingering regret, until you find yourself unwittingly entwined with an enigmatic gentleman whose unexpected charm defies all expectation.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), would Loki suffice as a warning? overall tension and romantic suspense, some banter, mild asshole behaviors from secondary characters, brief embarrassment. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 7.2k

author's notes : Ao3 saw it first. ;)

Finally, the first meeting with Loki! But don't get fooled by his charming nature my lovelies—after all, you never know what goes on in the head of the God of Chaos.

(ao3 version)

⠀

The Royal Palace of Valaskjalf was both a monument and a testament to power and eternity itself—to most, it appeared as an unshakable citadel of gleaming gold that crowned the heart of Asgard, a realm of wonder and somber majesty acting as a sanctuary where time seemed to bow in reverence.

From the outside, you could wager that its spires stretched toward Valhalla, piercing the sky like the spears of warriors long past. The celestial sheen of its walls caught the light of distant stars, casting reflections that lustered like the surface of an ethereal lake. The great dome loomed over the city like a silent watcher, its celestial map shifting under the soft glow of the Bifrost’s ever-present gleam.

Such an imposing avenue made it impossible for the general public to accurately predict the nature of the fight hidden behind this golden cage.

It had been years since you last set foot on this site since that fateful day, when the echo of a gavel’s finality and the chilling hush of a horrified court marked the execution of your father. The memory of that day, when your name fell from grace along with his, floated in the back of your mind like a vengeful ghost that only you could feel.

Your entrance was neither grand nor meek—you made sure that each step and each breath you took were carefully controlled, though your lungs still burned with the weight of anticipated scrutiny as you navigated on the mirror-like polished path.

The muted candlelight caught the glint of your silver adornments, a deliberate departure from your once resplendent golden radiance. Silver, you mused, was softer, more elusive, and harder to grasp, just as you had become.

Your temporary escorts left you to ascend a sweeping staircase spiraling upward like the inner whorls of the seashells you could find on the coasts of the Sea of Marmora, leading you to the palace's beating heart. Here, the space opened up into a cavern of opulence, bathed in the subdued flare of countless chandeliers. Each crystal droplet refracted the candlelight into a cascade of tiny rainbows, casting prismatic patterns upon the crimson velvet drapes and glossy stone walls.

High vaulted ceilings arched overhead, made of frescoes depicting celestial battles and the fabled journeys of ancient gods, imbuing the room with a sense of both awe and foreboding. Massive carved pillars crowned with gold leaf punctuated the space like silent sentinels guarding secret treasures and every surface, from the varnished ground to the luxurious banqueting tables set along the periphery, spoke of a past that was as resplendent as it was ruthless.

Tonight, however, this dazzling splendor was a world of gilded illusions accompanied by the soft strains of a string quartet, mingling to form a symphony of refined decadence where the guests, arrayed in sumptuous costumes and elegant masks, moved with an effortless grace.

Standing at the edge of this cathedral of aristocratic ambition, your heart beat a measured tattoo against the hush of whispered strategies. You were now both an observer and a participant in this game of politics—a lone huntress, poised to select your prey from among the throng of covert suitors.

You remembered a time when you navigated these halls with ease—but now the rules of this venture seemed foreign, and the board itself an enigma. You would not act rashly for the sake of nostalgia.

A hunter, you reminded yourself, never strikes at the first sign of movement.

You marched along the periphery of the dance hall, your eyes drifting over the throng to visually dissect it. There was dominion in being seen yet unseen, acknowledged yet dismissed. That duality, you knew, was a weapon in itself and, if used well, would lead you to successfully identify your collection of prey.

A hunter did not strike blindly. You were here to stalk, study, choose and mark your targets with the precision of a seasoned predator surveying her terrain.

Posture was the first tell. The elites carried themselves with a natural command that resonated in their squared shoulders and chests subtly puffed in practiced ease. Some lounged in what you identified as strategic boredom, with slouched stances hinting at a quiet confidence that belied a mind already playing the game. Others, the pawns of this gathering, fidgeted nervously—adjusting sleeves, shifting weight, darting furtive glances in search of approval.

Speech and the cadence of a man’s words revealed much more than mere conversation. Highborn Asgardians spoke as if every syllable had been lacquered and honed, each word part of a greater performance. In contrast, the lesser nobles stumbled through their phrases, their hurried and clumsy utterances betraying a lack of refinement. You listened intently to snippets of conversation as you followed the borders of the ballroom, distinguishing the voices of true power from the braggarts who merely recounted tales of battles won or the number of horses bred.

Circles of conversation provided another clue. Influence, you had long realized, was gauged by proximity: how bodies clustered around a single figure, how attentively they leaned in. A man surrounded by a modest yet focused circle was worth noting, while those isolated or drowning in flattery were less so.

Clothing epitomized another language of well-managed wealth. Ostentatious rings and gem-studded cuffs declared it so, but the truly powerful needed no such desperate displays. Imported fabrics, the embroidered sigils at the hems, the careful balance between regalia and restraint—all these stated secure fortunes and deep-rooted influence.

And still, it was the smallest details that mattered most. The way a man adjusted his mask too often as if it stifled him—perhaps hiding a secret. The subtle tension in his fingers curling around a goblet, possibly holding back or restraining an impulse. A glance that lingered just a moment too long, a poorly concealed smirk at another’s misfortune that translated into amusement at a rival’s expense.

Finally, the dance cards clutched by every noble, their names etched in ink that redirected the minds to alliances and commitments. A dance was never just a dance in these circles—it was a silent contract, a political maneuver, a statement of alignment. They told you who was already spoken for, who was in high demand, and who had been conspicuously avoided.

With those clues, you had easily identified your top three targets. All that remained for now was to act according to what you presumed would be their tastes in women.

The first target was Lord Eirikr Veidarson—a man of imposing stature whose bloodline, newly raised to high nobility, bore the staple of countless heroic deeds. His father, a renowned monster hunter, had amassed a fortune by felling beasts whose very names stirred terror in the hearts of common men. Rumor had it that Eirikr himself had felled a Nemean lion with but a single swift shot, and his bowstring was said to be the last sound many a creature ever heard.

Even in a ballroom crowded with towering figures, he was impossible to ignore. Tall and broad-shouldered, his form was draped in a dark stormy-blue doublet, intricately stitched with white embroidery depicting hunting hounds in pursuit of their quarry. His golden hair, styled with a hint of untamed wildness, caught the light as if ignited by an inner flame. Yet it was his alert amber eyes that truly marked him as a predator among men, concealed partly by the polished bone mask fashioned in the shape of a wolf’s maw.

You knew that a man of such brute force would favor innocence wrapped in grace and adoration delivered in wide-eyed wonder, a match made for a demure debutante rather than a strategist such as yourself. And so you assumed the role, your mind set to mimic the mannerisms of one easily impressed.

Timing it just so, you allowed the swell of passing dancers to nudge you from behind, deliberately staggering into his path with a startled gasp. The collision was slight—a mere brush of silken fabric against his broad chest—but his reaction was immediate. His calloused hands enveloped your waist in a firm, steadying grip, preventing your fall.

“My lady,” he rumbled, his voice as confident and warm as a well-strung bow, and his eyes twinkled with mirth behind that imposing mask. His grip lingered a moment too long, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I do not recall slaying a spirit this evening, yet here you appear, as though conjured by the Norns themselves.”

A breathy laugh escaped you, sharing a mixture of feigned embarrassment and genuine intrigue. “Forgive me, my lord,” you managed, your gaze drifting momentarily to the swirling mob of masked figures before returning to his expectant eyes. “I am but newly of age and, I confess, rather lost in the splendor of this... labyrinth of revelry.”

Eirikr’s grin deepened, his confidence undiminished. “Then allow me the honor of guiding you through this treacherous place, my lady. A dancing hall is no place to wander alone.”

Without further delay, his rough hand reached for your dance card, and in bold, slightly uneven strokes—possibly more accustomed to drawing arrows than elegant script—he claimed a place upon it. The ink barely dried before he took your hand and led you toward the dance floor, where the orchestra’s swell seemed to echo the rapid beat of your heart.

As your feet found their rhythm in the dance, you seized the opportunity to steer the exchange toward his place in court. With a delicate tilt of your head and a practiced smile, you let your curiosity emerge. “And pray, my lord, what of your influence in the halls of power? Surely one as accomplished as yourself must wield considerable sway?”

His response was but expected, boasting loudly without restraint. The harmonious tune of the ballroom shattered as heads turned toward the source of his voice. “Politics? Bah!” he declared with a deep, resonant laugh that made the very walls seem to tremble. “I have no patience for such matters! My father would have my hide if I so much as rearranged the great hall, let alone participated in the trivialities of the royal counseling.”

Truth became crystal clear at that moment. Here was a man more inclined to the thrill of the hunt than the subtle dance of diplomacy—a brute of formidable strength yet without the refined ambition required for the life you sought. Your smile wavered ever so slightly. He was undeniably appealing, yet his nature was far removed from the shrewd partner you needed.

Feigning a sudden distraction, you let your voice drop into a soft exclamation. “Oh! I believe I have just seen a dear friend arrive.” Your words, laced with regret and a hint of contrived urgency, provided the perfect excuse to slip away from his grasp.

The noble hunter blinked, surprise flickering across his features as you offered a graceful curtsy and melted back toward the periphery of the dance floor. As your figure receded into the tapestry of masked bodies, your breath escaped in a quiet exhale.

One down, you thought.

You cursed under your breath as your eyes fell upon the damning ink on your dance card. That single name, enchanted by forces you did not command, clung to your record like an iron shackle.

Foolish choice. You should have been more selective, more cautious. Now, no matter how the night unfolded, one dance had irrevocably been reserved for a man whose worth had proven to be naught.

The impact of that decision gnawed at you when suddenly, a prickling sensation crept up your spine.

Someone was watching you.

You turned your head ever so slightly, scanning the gilded expanse of the ballroom, but the sensation flickered into an ember snuffed out before you could trace its source. Instead, as if by fate’s own design, your gaze landed on another man.

Dark-skinned and striking, he wore a mask fashioned in the sleek guise of a golden sly fox. He was surrounded by men speaking in conspiratorial tones and women whose laughter rang with practiced elegance. Lord Valbrand Fandrisson, you recognized, was a name woven into the tapestry of noble influence. His presence attested to being a descendant of a long line of Asgardian power, his status as well-connected as it was enviable.

His eyes, luminous as molten gold, sparkled with greedy amusement. You had seen that same assessing look before, among the countless suitors your uncle once paraded before you like prized steeds.

A plan formed swiftly. With practiced grace, you lifted your fan in your left hand and snapped it open, letting the delicate accessory flutter before your face. I wish to be acquainted, you silently declared in this secret correspondence meant to test his mettle. If he truly knew the language of this game, he would understand immediately.

Within moments, his lips curled in a faint smirk as he disentangled himself from his current company. He strode toward you with the absolute assurance of a predatory gait. “You send a most intriguing message, my lady,” he smoothly declared, dipping his head in courteous deference. “And I, of course, cannot let such an invitation go unanswered.”

A soft laugh escaped you, one tempered with both mirthfulness and regret. “Then I can assume you are no fool, Lord Fandrisson.”

“On the contrary,” he replied, letting his gaze wander to your dance card. “I find it rather curious that a lady of your grace bears only a solitary name tonight.” His tone held a teasing lilt that made you wince internally.

“Alas, circumstance did not grant me the luxury to refuse a dance when it was proffered, nor did it allow me to choose my companions freely. My company, regrettably, was not that which I sought.” Your eyes flickered toward the distant crowd, offering the perfect excuse in your spun tale. “I must now retire to the sidelines.”

“If such is the case, my lady, allow me to escort you back to the dance floor,” he insisted, extending a gloved hand. “I would hate for you to remain a mere spectator on such a splendid night.”

The orchestra struck up a new melody, dictating the patterned pace of the group dance. You had hoped for a more intimate waltz, one that would afford you a private moment with your newfound companion, but the Norns, ever so capricious, had other plans. Conversely, you found yourself ensnared in the rhythm of a grand formation where partners were constantly exchanged. Despite the constant pairing and unpairing, you resolved to seize every fleeting moment that might leave an indelible impression on your quarry.

The first turn passed in a courteous blur. “I must say,” you ventured lightly as he spun you gracefully beneath his arm, “I have long heard of your mastery in the courtly arts. Yet, I begin to suspect that your talents extend beyond statesmanship and into the realm of dance.” You hoped your subtle compliment woven into an inquiry might have opened a window to dive into his ambitions.

Before he could respond, the pattern dictated a change. You released his hand as another pair of gloved fingers closed around yours. The transition was swift—one moment you were in the familiar grasp of Lord Fandrisson, and the next, you found yourself with a different partner.

He was tall, taller than most in attendance, with an air of elegant nonchalance that set him apart from the rigid, well-practiced lords. His mask, fashioned of blackened material and carved into the sweeping visage of a chimera, added even more to his height with the resplendent tall horns attached to the base. His lips curled into an unmistakable smirk that shone beneath his dark curls, carelessly cascading over his forehead and his sharp cheekbones as he bowed his head in mock deference.

"Ah, fortune smiles upon me this evening," he greeted you with a smooth and rich as velvet voice. "It appears that the lady graced with divine beauty of the line has, by some twist of providence, fallen to me instead."

You arched a brow at his words, silently noting the underlying mischief in his remarks. It was hardly unusual for a dance partner to be switched at the last moment, whether by design or chance, but there was something about his cadence that hinted at careful orchestration. Regardless, you reminded yourself that he was merely a transient partner meant to distract while your true interest remained in the distance.

Your gaze flitted to the far side of the ballroom, where Lord Fandrisson’s matte purple coat and imposing presence were unmistakable, even amidst the swirling throng. “Eager to be rid of me already?” the stranger teased as he guided you through the next step of the dance. “How cruel, that I should be so quickly discarded.”

“I am afraid I am otherwise occupied,” you answered airily, your eyes darting away in search of your intended quarry. “I must confess that my attention is presently elsewhere.”

He tightened his grip just slightly, underscoring his curiosity. “Oh? And who has captured your attention so completely that you cannot spare me a single glance?”

“Lord Fandrisson,” you returned distractedly, your gaze locking onto the blur of said man’s coat as he engaged in animated conversation with a laughing noblewoman across the floor.

A rake.

You should have known. A flicker of irritation sparked within you as you swiftly made your internal calculation that this was not the match you sought. You weren’t about to lower your standards to accept a man of wandering eyes who would later compromise your reputation, no matter his status or wealth. With a subtle sigh masked by polite detachment, you shifted your focus back to the mysterious stranger.

“I see,” he murmured as he scrutinized you with a knowing light. “Now that your gallant lord is otherwise occupied, perhaps my company has grown marginally more tolerable?”

“Do not presume, my lord,” you riposted with polite dismissal.

“Ah, but presumption is my specialty,” he countered with a diverted chuckle. “I presume you are not here merely to dance and twirl aimlessly among the concourse. No, I believe you watch every movement like would a merchant appraising a diamond.”

A ripple of unease stirred within you at the correctness of his observation. Your silence was his answer, and his smile deepened in acknowledgment.

“Yes,” he mused, triumphant as the final chords of the dance struck a somber note. “You are not here simply for pleasure.”

“And I presume you are a man with far too much time on his hands.”

“I assure you, if circumstances allowed, I would spend even more of it in your delightful company. Although, if my lady ever so grants me the opportunity, she could grace me with the honor of seeing more of her.”

You don’t bestow him the gift of a reply at his subtle dance request, favoring the liberty of slipping from his grasp in a graceful curtsy and a dismissive smile. You immediately turned on your heel and made your way toward the buffet, weaving through the crowded ballroom before he could pursue you.

You let out a soft groan as you sank into a nearby chair, the pressure of the evening finally catching up with you. The heels you’d chosen now felt like miniature daggers wedged into your feet. You’d forgotten just how much dancing could hurt after hours of relentless movement. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the strap of one shoe, carefully slipping it off to rub the aching ball of your foot, praying that the small reprieve would last longer than a fleeting minute.

The night had so far been long and frustrating—no matter the series of calculated encounters, it seemed every path had led you to an impasse.

And as if this losing streak didn’t suffice, a mishap occurred. From somewhere amidst the swirl of revelers, a full glass of wine veered off course and splashed with a jarring clink onto the hem of your gown, darkening the delicate fabric in a blot of deep, accusing color.

The man responsible for the spill’s shock was immediately stricken with horror. “Oh, no—my sincerest apologies!” he blurted, trembling with dismay. Without hesitation, he kneeled before you, hastily retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at the spill, though his frantic efforts only seemed to spread the stain further.

You leaned back and let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “Well, isn’t this just the cherry on top?” you remarked with a wry smile that masked your inner dismay. “It’s fine—truly. Merely one of those nights, I suppose.”

The man’s eyes darted up, uncertainty mingling with genuine concern as he studied your expression. “I’m terribly sorry,” he stammered, continuing his futile attempts to dab the stain away, and for a moment, you thought you might scold him on his clumsiness. But he then looked up fully, and his mask revealed a glimpse of a face you hadn’t expected to see.

There, beneath an elegant mask crafted like a noble stag with polished silver edges, were striking blue eyes—rich, intelligent, and filled with a gentle curiosity. Auburn waves of hair tumbled loosely about his face, framing a sharply handsome jaw and semi-full lips that held a timid smile. His voice, still polite but now imbued with a tender concern, broke the silence. "I truly didn’t mean to ruin your night, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head, dismissing his apologies with a gentle wave. “‘Tis quite alright,” you said, though your tone held a note of weary resignation. “It appears this evening is simply not in my favor.”

He hesitated, as if weighing his next words, before staring at the dance card clutched in your hand. “I must confess,” he let out in a softened tone, “that I’ve noticed your list… or rather, the absence of one.”

Your brows knitted in curiosity. “What of it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He offered a soft chuckle as he adjusted the delicate mask on his face. “It seems we share a similar predicament. Your stature tells me you’ve spent this evening dancing among a host of unworthy partners, and yet none have truly captured your attention. And now, this stain, though I presume is hardly the worst thing you’ve encountered, adds to the misfortune.”

A pang of recognition struck within you. Indeed, you had been deceived by every fleeting encounter, each partner presenting to be a disappointment. “I had hoped to find some meaningful company tonight,” you confessed quietly. “But every encounter has left me more disheartened.”

His eyes met yours again, and you saw a flicker of understanding there. “Perhaps,” he began tentatively, “if you are seeking someone who truly comprehends your plight, you might find solace in the garden.”

The promise of respite from the endless, empty chatter of the ballroom in his suggestion stirred a warmth in your chest. Without a moment’s hesitation, you nodded. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

He rose gracefully, extending a strong, sure hand. “Let me to escort my lady to a quieter place,” he offered. His voice carried the gentle authority of someone who had known both the bitterness of disappointment and the sweetness of unexpected connection.

⠀

You let him to guide you away from the crowded room and into the cool, moonlit air of the palace gardens. Lanterns hung from the top of the pristine pillars casted a shy glow over winding paths and the everflowing water on the sidelines of the road, the hush of night embracing you both as you walked in comfortable silence. The rustle of leaves and the distant echo of festivities formed a delicate symphony around you.

At last, he stopped in a secluded alcove where the moonlight painted various tessellations on the stone floor. “At the risk of defying this event’s purpose, I am Lord Hakon Alfvinsson,” he finally offered his name and confirmed your suspicion as to him being the last of your three most promising prey. “And I fear tonight has not been kind to you—nor, it seems, to me.”

You regarded him quietly. “I have been disappointed, more than once,” you admitted. “Each dance has left me wondering if true companionship is nothing more than an impossible feat to achieve.”

A gentle smile warmed his features. “Perhaps in another universe, our paths would have intertwined far sooner. For now, though, I offer you my company—and hopefully, a chance to escape this masquerade’s pretensions.”

You walked together deeper into one of the many gardens, each brush of his against yours sending a current of unexpected warmth through you. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and every step replaced the stress of the night with a tender sense of possibility. His rich and genuine laughter tangled with the soft breeze of the greensward, and you allowed yourself to find solace in a spark of hope that this encounter might mend your battered spirit and give way to a newfound tenderness that could put an end to the miseries of the past.

The road twisted and turned unexpectedly until suddenly you found yourself before an old friend of your youth—a labyrinth of ivy-draped hedges and weathered stone, its passages alive with the glow of radiant moss and the luminescence of moonflowers, and the extremity of the edges were bordered by the continuous water flows. The sight made you pause in your stroll, memories flooding back of carefree days spent wandering these winding corridors, where the maze had once been a source of delightful frustration as well as your secret escape.

Hakon observed your momentary hesitation and gently smiled. “Do you know this place?”

A playful smirk tugged at your lips as you scrutinized the openings of the twisting walls of the maze. “Indeed, I do. I used to get hopelessly lost here when I was a child—running through its corridors in search of a secret I could never quite name. It was both my escape and, at times, my torment.”

“A maze of memories, then? How enchanting,” your companion hummed.

Raising an eyebrow, you leaned in, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “What if I told you I could lead you through it—if you dared to follow?”

The afresh challenge that presently hung between you made him incline his head in mild intrigue. “I believe you’ll have to offer me more than mere words.”

With a spark of mischief, you stepped forward and declared, “Then let it be a game—if you can catch me in the maze, I shall reveal my name.” Without awaiting his reply, you vanished into the labyrinth’s embrace, your footsteps fading into the rustle of leaves.

The thrill was intoxicating—a rush akin to being chased like a princess by a secret suitor. You moved with purpose, pausing once behind a moss-draped statue of an ancient god to watch through half-hidden eyes as Hakon’s figure passed, his steady determination echoing softly in the labyrinth’s winding corridors. In a spontaneous act of daring, you let a decorative ribbon slip from your wrist, watching it fall softly onto the dew-kissed path and serve as a token for him to find.

Moonlight cast long, silvery shadows as you navigated the twisting pathways. You were sure the pounding of your heart in this escapade proved to be louder than the ever-growing distant strains of the ballroom’s music, gradually feeling like a fading echo from another world. At length, you reached the labyrinth’s center, where a magnificent fountain stood—a timeless relic adorned with ivy, its marble sculptures spilling water into a shallow basin. The fountain, a cherished landmark whispered about in noble circles, was said to have witnessed many lost romances and tragic secrets, its statues of entwined lovers now softened by time.

A sigh escaped your lips as you surveyed the scene. Here, in the cool embrace of history, you felt both a part of something ancient and poignantly out of place. Driven by exhaustion and a desperate need for relief, you stepped closer to the fountain and gingerly removed your heels. You cursed under your breath for favoring adrenaline over comfort.

You kneeled beside the fountain to rub the sore balls of your feet, grimacing as you tried to ease the burning ache in your ankles. Your reflection sent back a graceful figure in a gown marred by the night’s trials on the water’s surface and made you feel a glimmer of solace in that mirrored image.

The night, it seemed, had only begun to unfold its true mysteries. Amid the gentle murmur of water and rustling leaves, you heard soft footsteps behind you. Assuming it was Hakon, you glanced overhead, only to find emptiness. You returned your focus with a frown to the water's reflection, only to catch the unsettling reflection of a towering, dark figure with elongated horns standing immediately behind you. A chill shot through you, and you let out a startled scream, stumbling backward and tripping over the fountain’s stone edge.

Before you could crash into the cold water, strong arms intercepted your fall, steadying you. "’Tis alright, you won’t fall." You gasped, your heart pounding as you faced the stranger and, in a burst of indignation, shoved him back.

“You followed me?” you demanded, your voice sharp with embarrassment and anger.

Your dance partner from earlier regarded you with a calm sense of amusement and chirpily replied, “I couldn’t help but notice the game you were playing, and I hate to be left out.”

Your cheeks flushed as you retorted, “What are you doing here? I had company!” trying desperately to mask your uncertainty.

A faint, almost mocking smile curled on his lips as he bowed his head forward at the notion. "A company that, I’m afraid, did not quite reach the right point," he returned, retrieving the ribbon you had let behind on your way and raising it to your eyes. The unwanted chaperone surprised you even more by announcing your exact name regardless of how your mask hid your identity, laying a secret laid bare in the cold night.

Your blood ran cold. "Who are you?" you fearfully asked in a poorly concealed tremble.

The man took a slow step forward, his eyes piercing as though searching your soul. "Let us not concern ourselves with names just yet," he intoned with purpose. "What I care about is striking a deal—a deal I suspect you, too, are here to negotiate."

A shiver ran through you as his words settled in the air, heavy with implication. You stilled, instinctively bracing yourself against the newfound tension.

He observed you in silence for a long moment, then continued, "You’ve traversed quite the journey tonight, haven’t you? I’m sure you did not expect it to be this arduous."

You scowled, tightening your jaw. "You think you know what I want?" you spat, masking fear with thin defiance. "You know nothing."

"Imaginably so," he acquiesced with a slight, enigmatic smile, "but I know enough to offer you a choice. Shall we walk back together?"

You hesitated, caught between distrust and the inescapable necessity of his proposition. But the pain in your feet reminded you of your vulnerability, and you winced as you took a tentative step backward.

He let out an almost imperceptible sigh when he made note of your lack of following his stride, showing his exasperation at the situation before briefly excusing himself and kneeling despite your protests.

"This will be brief," he mumbled as he gently took your foot in his hand, making you sit on the edge of the fountain. "I promise." Magic abruptly stirred around your foot like a liquid balm, soothing the burning pain even as strange tautness coiled within you.

"This is... inappropriate," you muttered, trying to mask your discomfort with protest.

He looked up at you, his expression inscrutable beneath the mask. "Is it not more inappropriate to seek power and fortune through marriage when so much is already lost?" he mockingly replied.

You blinked, caught off guard by his candor. His voice, though sharp, resonated with a truth you had long feared to accept. With your heart pounding and your mind swirling with uncertainty, you could only nod silently.

His magic had finished its work, and as you flexed your toes, relief washed over you in an almost shocking wave. The persistent ache had melted away into a soft, comforting sensation—one that left you wondering if it were real or merely an illusion borne of exhaustion. You slowly exhaled, trying to shake off the ghost of his touch that still lingered on your skin.

"I’ll have you consider, my lord," you cockily remarked, "that it is hardly wise to reveal such an extraordinary facet of one’s abilities if one intends to remain in the shadows. Few in Asgard wield magic with such refined grace."

Silence stretched between you for an instant as his fingers stilled momentarily before continuing their work while a satisfied smile drew on his lips as he adjusted the delicate seams of your shoes. "You flatter me. I did not plan to remain entirely anonymous for too long," he enigmatically explained. "Merely a precaution until all is properly explained."

His words, refined with subtle assurance, sent a shiver of intrigue and uncertainty alike through you. He readjusted the footwear on your heels with careful, practiced movements, allowing your dress to fall back into place with an almost choreographed swish.

"Well, I must confess, you are extraordinarily skilled," you half-heartedly grumbled, accrediting his exploit in a fragile blend of admiration and guarded reserve.

You stirred your gaze to his face as you straightened in the half-light, and you found yourself uncomfortably close—so close that the faint scent of his cool, forest-like cologne mingled with the night air. You caught a glimpse of something familiar in his dark, intense eyes—a depth that formed in you an inexplicable recognition in the abstract of an incantation from a distant, forgotten dream you couldn’t fully recall.

He cleared his throat to disperse the moment, his eyes flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours with unwavering intensity. "Thank you," he acknowledged your compliment. "I endeavor to ensure all is comfortable at the very least."

Without further ado, he gracefully extended his hand to you in a remarkably assertive manner. You hesitated, just for a breath, before placing your fingers within his and were hoisted from your seat. His touch was not as cold as you expected, encircling yours with a tenderness that belied the enigmatic aura about him. It was a stark contrast to the brooding air that seemed to cling to him like a leech.

His hand left yours, traveling swiftly and surely to your waist, pulling you effortlessly into his arms. The sudden movement left you breathless, a gasp caught in your throat, and before you could gather yourself, your feet left the ground entirely.

The world blurred, and you were placed under the impression of being transported to the very heavens, until at last you found your feet once again on solid ground, just outside the imposing gates of the palace.

You blinked, disoriented—the sudden shift left you reeling, unsure how to reconcile the grandeur of your new surroundings with the suddenness of your arrival. Your captor stood otherwise perfectly composed beside you, granting you a moment to collect yourself. You took a step away from him as you attempted to steady your breath from the unexpectedness of finding yourself placed in front of the grandeur of the palace that loomed before you like a stately monument to bygone eras.

"I do apologize if I startled you, but I trust your feet are no longer in distress?"

You managed a stiff nod, the shock of your sudden journey leaving you momentarily. Gathering your courage, you probed, “You mentioned a... proposition, did you not? You are aware of my search, I take it?”

“Indeed, a dear friend of mine shared your plight with me. And I must confess, I find myself most intrigued. Not only do I possess all that you seek, but I too am in need of a partner. It seems our interests, much like the stars above, align quite marvelously.”

Your heart pounded as you searched his face for any hint of pretense. Unable to quell your curiosity, you ventured, “But tell me—how did you recognize me? And how exactly do you come to be intrigued, as you so cleverly put it?"

He leaned in, a teasing glint dancing in his eyes. "A woman of such singular beauty and undeniable grace cannot be so easily overlooked. Not by those who know where to look."

You stiffened, unwilling to be charmed just yet. "A clever answer," you commented with irony. "But not the truth, I think."

"Perhaps I am avoiding the question," he admitted after a chuckle, the intimacy of his velvet voice curling around you in a tender embrace. "But truth is a malleable thing. Some of us are better at recognizing it in others than others might think. A shark," he murmured with darkened eyes, "recognizes another."

The words struck you with the force of a well-aimed arrow, yet you refused to allow him to see the discomfort they stirred within you. You could not give him that satisfaction.

You arched an eyebrow, a glimmer of defiance in your eyes. “Is that your final word? You presume yourself to be more adept than I?”

His smirk deepened. “I am no stranger to the darkness,” he replied in a near whisper, as if sharing a tantalizing secret. “You’ve grown quite accustomed to keeping your secrets hidden. But even in the darkest shadows, one cannot quite conceal what is most true." His gaze flicked over you, tracing every shift in your posture. "I see you clearly, far more clearly than you realize. Your loyalty, your purpose... they cannot be so easily disguised."

Your thoughts scrambled, unsure how to respond. His words, far too close to hitting home, had pierced straight to the heart of your most guarded truths. How did he know? How was it possible?

You blinked, composing yourself before responding, “You overpraise yourself. I am certain my secrets are well kept.”

It felt sickeningly liberating to admit such veracities to an individual purely unknown to you. You weren’t sure what compelled you to talk so openly about your peculiar situation, nor how easily he could rip answers from you. You resolved yourself by thinking that since he was well-versed in your predicament, it was unnecessary to continue holding pretenses.

You were fairly aware of the danger it represented, but couldn’t help but wonder about the upper motives behind his head as you noticed his intense scrutiny briefly softening into an unguarded stare, until it subdued, vanishing as quickly as it had come. “You may be right, but the truth remains and shines through even in the dark.”

The moment seemed to stretch endlessly, leaving you uncertain of how to proceed—unsure whether you should resist or surrender to the allure of this enigmatic man who seemed to know far too much for your well-being.

The distant sounds of celebration from the palace echoed in your ears as he spoke. It felt as though you were no longer part of that world—instead, you were suspended in the matter of him and the delicate thread of proposition tying you in this instant.

Your footsteps resounded upon the marble as you and your escort ascended the grand staircase. "Consider my offer," he reminded you with the effervescence of a man desperate to gain the upper hand. "We both have much to gain from an alliance, don’t we?"

The hubbub from within the ballroom swelled in anticipation, and through the heavy oak doors came the prelude to an announcement—a heralding of destiny, if you will.

"—and we are honored to present—" a resonant voice declared as you passed beneath the towering archway. The masked person’s stance beside you remained composed through and through.

Despite the magnetic pull of his company, you chose to maintain a dignified reserve, keeping your eyes fixed forward. "And what would you have me offer in return? A business partner, or something more intimate?"

"Both and neither, my dear," he revealed. "It is all for the sake of pretense, if you will. I offer to be your sponsor, should you require assistance in your pursuits. In return, you would be my companion—a partner, if you will, in both ambition and heart."

You halted, a gentle laugh escaping you as you shook your head in light reproach. "Oh, you are far too cocky, my good sir. Do you honestly think I would entertain such a ludicrous proposal?"

He turned his head slightly, his eyes dancing with secret amusement. "A magician, my dear, can conjure the finest dreams if one so wishes. I assure you, I can be of considerable service."

Your skepticism was met with his unyielding charm as you retorted, "It is all rather too good to be true—a benefactor offering wealth and support, all for the sake of a companion's company?"

“That is precisely the allure, isn't it? To offer what no one else would dare, and still have you question its merit. The greatest power lies in making the impossible seem desirable. I give you only what you are willing to take, and in turn, you shall offer only what you are willing to give."

"And what would you give me then?"

He paused at your question, and turned to you before reaching out and taking your hand. Bowing ever so slightly, he pressed his lips to your appendage in a chaste kiss, eyes of the prettiest shade of a green forest after rainfall piercing right through yours.

"Anything."

For a heartbeat, the world stilled at the entrance, and the cacophony of the ballroom hushed to a mere murmur as the two of you stood rooted in that secluded spot. You vaguely dismissed the prickling sensation in your cheeks as your eyes held the fort, searching, questioning, and then you dared to ask once more in a soft whisper, "Who are you?"

Before he could answer, your small bubble was cut short by the announcer’s resounding call: "—and we are honored to welcome back Prince Loki!" The proclamation reverberated off the gilded walls, and in an instant, all eyes turned toward your squire. A collective gasp, a flurry of whispered exclamations, and the clapping of hands enveloped the chamber as the guests acknowledged his return.

Every mask in the room seemed to shudder and fall by an unseen force—leaving bare faces, expressions, and the secrets lying behind them. Your heart lurched as you realized with dawning horror that the very man you had exchanged witty repartee with, the man whose gentle touch had eased your aches and whose clever words had stirred something in you was none other than Prince Loki.

Shock, disbelief, and mounting embarrassment surged within you. You glanced down at your stained gown, a silent testament to the night’s mishaps, and then back to him. His countenance remained disarmingly calm as if nothing untoward had occurred. But your mind reeled—you had mocked, you had bantered, and now the revelation threatened to unravel you.

Without a word, you yanked your hand away and spun on your heel, intent on escaping the prying eyes of the crowd. The sharp command of the Einherjars rang out behind you—"Halt!"—but before they could reach you, the prince’s hand shot out to stop them, his posture resolute and his smile broad, as if nothing had transpired.

Your feet pounded the grand staircase as you fled, each step a stamp to your panic and humiliation. The echoes of whispered judgments and the clinking of glasses trailed behind you, a cacophony of reproach that you could scarcely bear.

The masquerade had revealed its cruelest irony: you had been unmasked before your time, your carefully crafted image laid bare for all to see—and now, the stakes had been irrevocably raised.

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CHAPTER TWO.⠀|⠀CHAPTER THREE.⠀|⠀CHAPTER FOUR.

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