#c: thor odinson

[manafonts]

[howtheavengerswould]

how would the avengers react when avenger! reader is able to lift thor’s hammer?

requests open!

how the avengers would react...

𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙃𝘼𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍? (IM TRYING TO INSERT PICTURES BUT IT WONT WORK)

Thor was most likely the most confused. What started with training ended in deafened silence as you had simply caught his hammer from midair. He would try to call the hammer back, but it simply stayed in your grip, your own shocked eyes meeting his. He would laugh, clapping his hands together and staring pointedly at your grip on the hammer, before striding up to you and plucking it from your hands. His ego was definitely bruised, not that he'd let anyone know.

Steve always knew you had the capacity to do it, you simply never tried. It was something he was curious of--who exactly would be deemed as worthy, but he had a guess, that if anyone was, it'd be you. You were definitely the nicest of the group, and he wasn't very shocked when you had lifted it from the table at one of Tony's parties. He noticed, however, how you'd stared at your hands like you'd just made a miracle, and patted you on the back, letting you know that it wasn't that surprising, and that you were indeed worthy of holding the legendary hammer.

Tony had been there when Steve had seen you lift the hammer, and his first instinct was to play a prank on the rest of the team. He'd drunkenly invite you over to his side of the couch, brazenly whispering in your ear his idea: "You should put the hammer on top of..." he'd cut himself off with laughter, but would finish his sentence, nearly doubled over, "their stuff." It would take a hot second for you to figure out quite what he meant, but when you realised, it was enough to send the two of you into a fit of giggles.

Natasha was the first victim of you and Tony's antics. The spy always woke up earlier than anyone else for training, and walking into the training room the next morning, she'd find her catsuit stuck under the hammer. Of course, no one was awake to hear the frustrated pleas of the Black Widow--other than you and Tony, of course, hiding away in his workshop, and watching from a camera. Natasha, ever the attentive woman, would spot the new camera, and march herself down into Tony's workshop... and kindly 'ask' for you to move it. She half expected Thor to be with Tony, but when she'd seen you, she managed to put two and two together. She was proud of you, of course... after the frustration and mild silent treatment ended.

Clint was next, and shortly following Natasha, he would find his bow trapped under the hilt of Mjolnir. He nearly had a fit, stomping with mild annoyance towards an innocent Thor's room, who had been so preoccupied with his findings of 'video games' that he hadn't even noticed his hammer's dissapearance. Thor, now the victim of Clint's morning annoyance, would try to eagerly rope the archer into playing with him. The pair would only be found later that night, passed out over chips and a few broken controllers. (...when Clint did find out who exactly had trapped his bow, he would laugh outwardly, and then whisper a good-natured warning in your ear, "Don't do it again, or I'm putting you in one of those holding cells until the next person finds you.")

Bruce was, of course, the unfortunate last member of Tony's incredible prank ideas. He would find the door to his lab jammed shut by Mjolnir, but of course, the culprit hadn't exactly left the scene of the crime. You'd been setting it up when he had stumbled upon you, five minutes earlier to his usual arrival time, and simply stared in shock at the sight of you holding the hammer. "So... have you been able to do that the whole time, or is that new?" You'd laugh it off together, and the hammer would definitely be used as a party trick in the future.

[thorsource]

There is a lesson here, brother, and it's not to skip the squat thrusts when pursuing those mighty muscles!

IMMORTAL THOR #7

[musclesandhammering]

There’s zero chance Loki and Hela having so many similarities is just a coincidence. And even though we’re most definitely never getting a full explanation for it, I’m so curious as to what you guys believe the reason is. Do you think:

a.) Loki’s a shapeshifter who can see people’s memories when he touches them. So when Odin picked him up as a baby, he saw Hela in Odin’s mind and shifted himself to resemble her.

b.) Loki and Hela have the same biological mother.

c.) Hela is Loki’s biological mother.

d.) Odin changed Loki to look like Hela when he first held him, because he missed her.

e.) Hela’s biological mother is jotun, and she and Loki both have black hair/pale skin/green aesthetic/etc because that’s just what frost giants look like when they take an asgardian form.

f.) Hela and Loki are both adopted, both children of Laufey. Odin took Hela centuries earlier, then when he realised Laufey’d had another child, he took Loki too.

**I’ve listed these in order from the ones I find most likely to least likely, if you’re curious. Tell me which headcanon you prefer, I wanna see.

[jiyascepter]

˗ˏˋ➳ Loki In Thor (2011) | icons

Do not repost

Reblog if you save | give credits

open the picture then download for better quality

finally posting these icons & headers that have been sitting in my drafts since forever, more coming!

-> more from this movie

[maniacace]

chris hemsworth's stunt double posted a picture yesterday in a tva set for doomsday... is the sun shining

[squids-comics]

For once, Spidey saw a villain and didn't immediately go chase him. He realized he was in a Thor comic and said:

From: Mighty Thor #141

[crying-in-the-stars]

Loki/Mobius slow burn, anyone?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64371988/chapters/165257026

New project! hope you check it out 🥰

[lokiadmirer]

Some stuff I found around a comic book store while on my vacation in Seattle!

Would've loved to grab these but first of all, expensive, second of all, would not fit in my luggage to go back home lmao 😅

[eva-knits12]

Valentine's Day With Steve

Trigger warning: labor, emergency c-section, childbirth, Steve Rogers, fluff in the end

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and you and Steve welcome James into the world.

The nursery is set up. The crib is built, the changing table is built. The dresser is full of onesies, booties, and various other baby clothes. You're napping in bed, while Steve is giving you a foot rub.

You feel a sharp pain. At first, you think it's Braxton Hicks, so Steve fetches you a glass of water. You drink the water.

"Thanks, Steve," you say, and drink the water.

"Shh, doll. James will be here soon," says Steve.

"Steve, can you help me up? Our son is sitting on my bladder again," you say.

It seems that just when you would get comfortable again as best as you can, James would sit on your bladder. Steve helps you up, and helps you to the bathroom, because you need to pee for the 200th time this morning.

Steve looks at the sketchbook. Today's sketch was with you, naked, and you have a bright red heart and nice, white heart with lace trim on your belly. The little chalkboard that had that day's stats were in the drawing, and each stat is of the chalkboard that is drawn up close. It's dated February 14th.

A little while later, you feel another pain, this one sharper and more painful than the last.

"STEVE!", you scream.

Steve comes rushing and sees you doubled over.

"Oh, Doll," coos Steve.

"I'll call the doctor," says Steve

"AHHHHHHHH, the baby's coming Steve!", you scream.

Steve is calling the doctor, and you feel dizzy and lightheaded. You faint, and Steve immediately calls 911. Something is definitely wrong!

Steve is on the phone with the operator, and is trying to bring you back around. The ambulance arrives, and the paramedics are busy taking your vitals and setting you up on a fetal monitor. The fetal monitor indicates that the baby's heartbeat is going down rapidly, which is affecting you. You're also bleeding uncontrollably, which is another reason why you passed out. The paramedics are trying to control your bleeding, and they realize that you now have a placental abruption.

Steve is sitting in the ambulance, worried sick. The paramedics are busy working on you, and are keeping in touch with the hospital. The hospital immediately sets up an OR, and your ob/gyn is there, wanting to keep an eye on the baby.

When the paramedics arrive at the hospital, you've finally come around. You still have an oxygen mask on, and you're still bleeding. The doctor and nurses rush you to the OR, and get ready for an emergency c-section. It was the only way that James could be delivered safely. Steve is in there, and his nerves are frazzled. He's trying to keep it together for you, but he is worried sick.

The doctor immediately puts you on IV drip with anesthetic coming in your spine locally. They don't put you to sleep during a c-section, and you're still breathing through the oxygen mask. You came to when you arrived at the hospital.

"Shh, James will be here soon, doll. Just hang on," says Steve, who has grabbed your hand, and kisses your hand.

You nod with the oxygen mask on. The IV drip is providing the anesthetic, and the doctor has now cut you open. James is immediately removed, and it was discovered that the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He was losing oxygen rapidly, which was caused you to faint. The cord being wrapped around James' neck was what caused the placental abruption, so it was basically the lack of oxygen that James was getting that was causing the placental abruption.

James Joseph Rogers is born on February 14 at 1:15 p.m. via an emergency c-section.

The ob/gyn, and the nurses are now trying to bring James around. The doctor had managed to get the cord unwrapped, but it took a while for James to start breathing. When you and Steve hear James cry, you both breathe a sigh of relief.

An incubator in the NICU is ready, and James is placed in the incubator. The incubator will not only keep James alive, it will help him start to breathe regularly, have a regular heartbeat and it will help him recover. The doctors give you and James and excellent prognosis. James may not have to be in the incubator for long, and you have an excellent chance at recovery, since Steve had enough sense to call an ambulance the second you fainted. James is set up on a machine that is keeping an eye on his vitals.

You just wanted to hold James after he was born. You're devasted, and Steve is sitting next to James in the incubator. He's stroking James' head, and telling him that he's amazingly strong, just like his mama. You sleep after a while. A few hours later, the nurse takes you to the NICU so that you can feed James. The nurse asked if you planned on breastfeeding, bottle feeding, or pumping. You were going to breast feed James for the first year of his life.

"James, this is not how we wanted you to start life. Originally, your mom and I were planning on home birthing you," says Steve.

The home birthing part is true. You had no intention of wanting to give birth in a hospital. You were low risk, everything was normal, and you had the doctor, a nurse, and a midwife at the ready. You had everything ready for the home birth. In fact, you felt it would be more natural to have a home birth. Steve felt the same way. Steve would be behind you, saying soothing things, while you were in labor. You would eventually be naked, giving birth to James. You would be squatting and pushing James out. You felt that a home birth would be the one of the most beautiful and natural things that you and Steve would experience as a couple. Valentine's day would be even more meaningful since James would be born, and it would be the best Valentine's day ever!

James had other ideas. He was born via an emergency c-section.

The nurse helps you pull down your gown, and you release your breast. The nurse carefully removes James from the incubator, and hands you James. You hold your breast to James and he takes it.

James and you are bonding in the most beautiful and natural way possible. Steve is smiling at the wholesome site. Steve is sitting in the corner, drawing a picture of breast feeding James.

You finish feeding James, and Steve gives you a loving kiss to your forehead.

"Get some sleep, doll," says Steve. You were tired. You looked tired. The nurse takes you back to your hospital room, and Steve is right next to you. You both fall asleep in the hospital bed, exhaustion taking over the both of you.

"Good morning, doll," says Steve. Steve and you wake up in the hospital.

"Good morning, Steve," you say.

The next morning, you see a hospital crib in your room. You think you're seeing things, and you call the nurse. It takes you a while to realize that it's your baby, and that James must be doing a lot better.

"James made a full recovery," explains the nurse.

"He's breathing normally, he has a normal heart rate, he's a strong, healthy baby boy," says the nurse.

"How did he recover so quickly?" you ask.

Dr. Banner walks in, and says his congratulations. He explains that Steve's altered DNA and Steve's serum made James be stronger than most. He explained that it was the altered DNA that helped speed up James' recovery. Bruce even packed a hospital bag for you that contained all the basic needs. His girlfriend helped him. What happened was so fast that Steve didn't have any time to pack, let alone think. He was concerned with you.

It turned out the reason why Bruce was here was that he was dating one of the nurses. He heard about what happened, and that she had to be in the OR. Being a nurse had it's advantages, and Bruce was the only person that she could think of to call. Luckily, Bruce told Tony and everyone. Bruce was a gossip, and he was the one that blurted out that you were pregnant well after you had hyperemesis gravidarum. You and Steve wanted to announce it when you both had the cookout at the house you both bought.

'Thanks, Bruce," you say, tiredness in your voice. Steve hugs Bruce.

Later on, the rest of the Avengers arrive to see you and James. Tony says that James should have been named after him.

"Tony! This is our baby," you say.

"We chose to name him after Bucky and after my father," says Steve.

"Anthony Rogers has a MUCH better ring to it," says Tony.

"I wanted to name our son after Steve's best friend and his father," you say.

Bucky and Natasha come in and congratulate you and Steve. Bucky found another teddy for James that looks like Bucky that's dressed as the Winter Soldier.

Thor sees James, and comments to Steve that James was already a figher.

"Thanks, Thor," says Steve.

Clint comments how much James is like Steve, even down to Steve's features. You thank Clint.

A few days later, you and Steve are ready to take James home. Bucky arrives in the car you and Steve picked out. The car seat was already loaded in, your hospital bag was already packed. You had already applied the antibiotic ointment. Steve pulls the car around, and Bucky wheels you down. Bucky drives you and Steve back home, with you and Steve sitting in the back.

Bucky parks in the driveway, and Steve gets out and opens the door. You and James are sleeping in the backseat, so Steve carries you into the house, bridal style, and Bucky carries James in, and places James in his crib.

Steve falls asleep next to you. Bucky decides to stay for a while in case you and Steve need anything. Natasha comes over, and helps the both of you.

After a while, James cries, and he needs to be fed. You breast feed him, and this feels amazing. You and Steve are tired, you had an unplanned c-section, you feel sort of frumpy, but Steve tells you every hour how beautiful you are.

"Shh, James. I know you and mama went through a lot," says Steve. Steve places a Captain America pacifier in James mouth. James falls asleep again.

"You are so beautiful and so strong, doll," says Steve.

"You are the most beautiful new mother ever," says Steve.

You cry at this because Steve is so right. You feel ugly at times, but Steve makes you feel less insecure and more beautiful. Your body housed your and Steve's baby for nine whole months.

Steve and you slow dance to "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and then to " Perfect" by Ed Sheeran.

"Steve, I love you so much. You are the best husband a woman can ask for, and more. You even made me feel safe after I had James via a c-section," you say.

"Shh, I love you, too, doll. I love you so much. You went through a lot to bring James into the world. You made my dream of marriage and fatherhood come true. I love you so much because you are so strong, even after you escaped your last relationship. I knew you were going to be my wife the second we bumped into each other," says Steve.

"Yeah, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I was too busy making sure the papers that Tony gave me were in order," you say.

"Being the gentlemen you were, you stopped to help me pick them up and you looked like a little lost puppy trying to navigate a new world in a new place," you say.

"You were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," you say.

You and Steve kiss each other lovingly. This feels amazing because Steve is doing his best to make you feel beautiful again, even though you're tired, you feel frumpy, and you can't even remember when was the last time you showered or even brushed your teeth.

You and Steve continue like this for a while. Bucky and Natasha order Chinese for everyone. You all eat your dinner, and Bucky and Natasha stay the night in case you both need anything.

You and Steve fall asleep in each other's arms. After a while, James cries, needing a feeding, then cries again an hour later, needing a change. You feed James, and Steve changes his diaper.

The love between you and Steve was special and beautiful. James even added more love between the both of you and he added even more love to the Rogers household.

It was the best Valentine's day ever! Next year, you and Steve would be celebrating James' first birthday.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Successional Pleasure: The Rite (II)

A Masterlist for The Rite is here A link to my regular Masterlist is here Summary: (2) Loki arranges a meeting, and you're offered the opportunity of a lifetime (w/c 4.8k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Thirsting for unattainable royals. Language. Heavy petting. Ridiculous Asgardian HC lore. Smuttish.

This morning the palace criers announced mandatory palace court attendance for all of Asgard.

Word travels fast, you muse as another person shoves into your shoulder; especially when the Odinsons will be in full ceremonial dress.

A swell ripples through the crowd, pulsing forward. Only one row of people stand in front of you, and the guards lining the jostling mass are becoming impatient.

You always make an effort for these events; everyone does. However bland and self-aggrandising the subject matter (and with the Allfather, when is it not?) – one never knows who’ll attention you’ll draw. But this time, it’s different.

This time, as you fixed your hair and let your solitary maid tighten the laces of your dress – there was only one person you wanted to impress. Him. Because this time, for the first time, he may actually notice you.

But that’s madness, you think as you try and focus. His lovers are legendary. He has his pick of…anyone. Literal deities.

But then, the memory of Prince Loki’s glistening chest emerging from the palace baths with wet hair plastered over his brow as he grunted through his orgasm erupts in your mind. That’s a memory not easily forgotten. In fact, it’s very easily encouraged. And each time you think of it, more layers appear.

In the extended, delusional version, he crosses the pool, the lapping water licking around his proud cock snug to his stomach as he wages a path to cage you by the stone edge and—

Trumpets blare. “They’re here,” a woman beside you squeals. Her hand flies to yours, clawing with unhinged excitement. The guards straighten, spears thudding against marble in ceremonial greeting.

He probably does that shit all the time; wanking in the palace baths with people he doesn’t know. He won’t see you amongst thousands of faces. That’s madness. But when it came to Loki Odinson, didn’t that make it more likely? Nerves tighten your stomach. The glint of their ostentatious headwear is the first sign of approach; two small figures against the expanse of the ancient doors floor to ceiling of the hall. Cheers thunders like a burst dam through a canyon as they move in sync down the wide aisle, each set of guards they pass thunking their staff in salute. Each thud made your pussy clench. And finally, you catch sight of his face.

It's the picture of haughty expectation at the wild crowds losing their minds as he passes. Every slice and draw of his bone structure is set like marble. He’s above it all; stunning decorative armour that would be absolutely no use in battle accenting broad shoulders at sharp angles. Impeccable posture, as ever. Today, the prince wears full leathers beneath – ridiculously fitted trousers which melded seamlessly to a forest green tunic stitched in golden trim.

To complete the act of war that’s his outfit, a stiff collar cut to the curve of his jawline sweeps up to his earlobes; a solitary curl of ebony hair lying against the leather, freed from his helmet. Thor wears the same red and garish gold he always does, beaming greedily at the crowds.

Your eyes roam over Loki’s sweeping entrance and you smile to yourself that the last time you’d seen him – he’d been naked. The woman beside you begins to breathe heavily as they draw closer. You have no idea, you smirk.

Loki’s cape billows with theatrical elegance down the open aisle, and you wonder briefly if his magic has something to do with it. Thor’s certainly doesn’t flutter around his ankles with the same effortless gravitas. Thor’s doesn’t undulate with every stride, timed with the military precision of its master’s thighs.

The guard in front of you lifts his spear, ready to thrust it to the marble floor. You hold your breath, biting your lip, their glory radiating with each falling step. And then, time seems to stop. Because then, Loki, Prince of Asgard, looks at you. His eyes flicker to the side, narrowing softly in your direction. A low dimple in his cheek flashes, only for a moment. And then - -thunk

The metal clang makes you jump out your skin, and by the time you get your bearings, the princes have moved on. They each face the platform, sinking on one knee with bowed heads while Odin pats down the cheers. He begins to rumble on, something about war, or tradition or blah blah.

The dark prince’s jawline is a work of art as he kneels in performatively rapt attention. With each swallow, his cheekbones flash. The golden helmet highlights the harsh lines of his face, lids dropping every few minutes as he struggles not to roll his eyes. You smile.

“Oh that’s good,” the woman beside you hums. You frown at her, concentration broken. It was her turn to frown. She shakes her head, gazing back to Odin. “Thor reached a treaty with Muspelheim.”

The next hour passes slowly, and for once, you’re grateful. When Odin stops, it’s the Crown Prince’s turn to regale the audience of thousands with his diplomatic success. Only half-listening, you use the time to your advantage, perving on Loki kneeling on the polished floor with those long, pale fingers clasped around one knee. When the dark prince stands, the rest of the high-nobles do the same. He whips his cape back, allowing the crowd a gratuitous view of his muscular ass and thighs flexing beneath tight leather while he unfurls. Loki’s imperious eyes scan the heaving crowd with an air of disdain. The look rolls like a sea wind, cold and unforgiving until you feel its weight land on you.

You’re pinned by that stare as plainly as though it’s his hands; his body. Goosebumps ripple beneath your dress. I see you, he mouths silently, subtly, before his gaze falls on his brother once more.

The royal family wave a final time before slipping to the doors at the back of the Great Hall. Loki’s attention hadn’t fallen upon you again, but the waiting. The anticipation; it was exhausting.

Around you, the bustle of a thousand conversations grows to a roar. The front rows of the crowd begin to file out and follow the same path the royal family had taken through the golden doors. High-court, only. Friends and family, that sort of thing. A huge curtain hangs behind the throne, buffeting gently from some unseen breeze. It’s a rich amber with threads of green and red and blue, shimmering patterns that no mortal fingers could accomplish woven over centuries, millennia even.

Gods, noted warriors and chancellors all dutifully bow to the empty throne before circling around the platform and disappearing behind the curtain. On their way to a feast, no doubt.

A set of bird-like fingers wrap around your wrist. With a yank you pull it away, whipping round to see the expectant face of a young boy.

“Get out of here,” you snarl. Pickpockets are rife at these sorts of things. The boy stares. Puberty hadn’t darkened a shadow on his skin, and despite his age, he was un-phased by the abruptness.

“You are requested,” he says, bored eyes searching your face. People jostle by your shoulders in annoyance. “By who?” you scoff. They’d try anything these days.

The boy tugs your hand. “Requested,” he says again as though it explains everything, turning and pulling you earnestly towards the line of guards. With a single glance at an insignia on his tunic, they part for him.

You traipse behind him at pace, clutching long skirts in one fist while eyes in the crowd follow you down the marble aisle against the sea of people and behind the mysterious curtain. “Name?” a voice grunts.

You look from the back of the boy’s head to the bulky figure in front of you. He’s dressed in robes of scarlet, the hint of a dagger’s hilt beneath a thick belt. A wiry red beard hangs down his chest, resting on a buckle of black steel. “I know you not…” he sneers slowly. “No names,” the boy snaps. He barely came up to the gatekeeper’s stomach. “She’s been requested.” The gatekeeper’s face crumples and his eyes dart to the emblem on the boy’s chest before standing aside, holding his tongue.

The youth gestures with his head to follow him, and you do…. down a short corridor flooded with buttery light. Delicate jangling of lutes and laughter ring to ornate cloisters, a glittering view of Asgard below the balcony-walkway taking your breath away. “Hurry,” the boy snips without a backwards look. “Master is not a patient man.”

He claps his small hands three times and a set of golden doors at the end of the cloister swing open. Thor comes into view mid-conversation, still wearing his ceremonial armour, a goblet spilling over the sides clutched in one hand as he gesticulates wildly. There’s a rumble of polite laughter. Your hand shoots out, grabbing the boy’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you mutter. He shoots a scathing glance over his shoulder, casting a salty look down to your feet and back again. “You have been—”

“—requested,” you finish petulantly. “Yeah, I know.”

Your ribs thrum as you walk through the doors, pulled by invisible hands. There can only be one person who harbours the desire to have you at this exclusive gathering. And even that’s beyond insanity. Has he mistaken you for someone else? The boy, that is. He’s a barely more than a child. You were about to ask where you should go, when you realise he’s gone. Casting a frantic look around the room it’s evident that familiar groups have already formed, jokes cracking in waves; picking at piles of nuts and fruit and meats. Frigga herself stands by an ornate silver trolley, ladling wine into a goblet while Lofn whispers in her ear. Your knees buckle slightly. There he is.

A small figure works through folds of silk and armoured angles to the back of the room. You follow him, before halting abruptly, steadying yourself against a table. The boy’s come to a stop in front of a shadowed figure, exchanging a conspiratorial nod. Loki Odinson claps him on the back, raising a goblet to his lips. He rests against a pillar, choosing to stay apart from the revels. Watching. Waiting. His eyes meet yours as he sips; dark and dangerous over a rim of gold. One brow twitches upwards in, you presume, greeting. Sweaty palms run slip the front of your dress and you fight the sudden urge to run. It’s pale blue, the finest you own. Which isn’t saying much. The same colour as his eyes, you realise.

The Prince lowers the goblet, cocking his head. He’s still adorned with the ensemble his part in the day’s festivities required save one, the helmet. Dark curls spill freely over the shoulders of the cape fastened to guards beneath, intricate folds of fabric worked to perfection.

He raises a hand, forefinger beckoning twice in subtle succession before lowering it again. Just like the baths, you think with a shameful thrill. Your gaze darts to faces you’ve only seen in paintings around the court as you glide over, trying to look like you belong - but no one bats an eye. Loki unhooks one foot from behind the other, nudging himself off the column. Leather boots gape teasingly around his calves. You wonder, if you beg like a common trollop, if he would fuck you wearing those boots. Only those boots—

“You’re not wearing green,” the Prince drawls. You open your mouth and close it again, irritatingly mute while his blue irises smoulder. “Usually they wear green.” You press your lips together, collecting yourself. “Who?” “Those trying to bed me,” Loki says.

“I’m not trying to—” The prince waves a dismissive hand. “—Catch my attention, then.”

You feel your cheeks heat under scrutiny, a very obvious swallow working its way down your throat. “I don’t know what you mean your Highness,” you say. “You summoned me.”

“Indeed, I did. So I imagine I must have a very good reason,” the Prince murmurs. He brings the pad of a fingertip to his lower lip, brushing it across the skin as you stand in silent bemusement. “Loki! Did you send for a jester? What fun!” You inhale sharply as Fandral slides into view beside your shoulder. His hair is on point this evening, a lush wave cresting over his forehead and swept to the side as his eyes trail to your feet and back to your face. “Oh, my mistake. Just someone getting a little a carried away with the rouge, it seems.” Your stomach tightens. “I’m leaving, your Highness,” you say with a lacklustre bow and a bitter taste in your mouth. “But you do not have my permission,” Loki growls quietly. His feet come into view on the floor and you raise your head, inhaling the sweet breath from his lungs clouding your lips. “More wine, Loki?” Fandral asks brightly, already pouring into Loki’s goblet. The prince’s eyes don’t leave yours, but his mouth hardens.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” he asks through gritted teeth. Fandral looks at you with mock-surprise. “Oh yes, most recent conquest is it? Come for a peek behind the gilded curtain before you’re sent back to the depths of banality? I thought he’d run out of new faces.” He winks; it makes your stomach churn.   “She’s not a conquest,” Loki says, hovering the goblet by his lips. “Not one of mine, anyway.”

Your eyes dart to his and catch them narrow slightly. Fandral looks genuinely confused. “Well, what then? Why is she here? Who is she?”

Suddenly there’s a loud crash to the side. Thor stumbles against the table laden with wine-soaked pears and pastries and mounds of tartlets, knocking a pile of cold meats to the ground. He wobbles after them, kneeling on the floor and beginning to pick them off the stones as if they were jewels. “Oh for heaven’s sake,” Loki mutters, and you feel the gentle pressure of a hand on your waist. “Walk with me,” he urges in your ear and a shudder rolls down your spine.

“Loki?” Fandral calls as the figures around you start to blur and the Prince manoeuvres you through the crowd like a feather. “Loki, I must speak to you about the…matter, I’ll…later. Yes, later. Quite.” A wall of fresh air skates over your skin. You hadn’t realised how warm it was inside. The two of you come to a stop at the wall of the balcony, nails skimming against polished marble. Loki clears his throat.

“I apologise for Fandral he’s…” Loki looks up from beneath his lashes, a performative sheepishness softening his face, “well, himself.” You stifle a laugh, focusing on the edge of the moonlit waterfalls in the distance. Silence hangs between you, made louder by the jumbled festivities inside. “Why am I here, Prince Loki?” you whisper, not daring to look at him. “If it’s about what happened in the baths, I won’t tell a soul I swear—” “—It’s not.” Irritation begins to brew in your stomach. “Well then Fandral has a point. Why am I here? I’m no one.” “Exactly.” A prickle of heat rises up your neck, stinging your ears. “Am I a joke to you, your Highness?”

Loki’s eyes flashing in moonlight, but he says nothing. It stings.

“You bring me here to make a fool out of me in front of your friends? In front of Frigga? Frigga.” “I needed to see if any of them knew you.” Loki’s voice is eerily calm, his gaze as unflinching as a cliff jutting into night. “And clearly, they do not. Fandral would recognise you if they did; that little fishwife knows absolutely everything.” “Why would they know me? And what does it matter?” “It matters a great deal. To me, at least. And to you, perhaps.” You push a strand of hair back from your forehead, hating that its damp. The skin feels hot. Hot and flustered and clammy with embarrassment and…shit, arousal. Can he tell?

Black strings of lax curl blow gently around Loki’s jawline, pale lips stained with wine. “Tell me, my Lady…have you heard of the Rite of Successional Pleasure?” he asks, and suddenly all other noise vanishes from your ears save the hum of his voice.

Loki’s eyes run down the blue chiffon of your robe, wondering if he could peel it off and cast it skating across the stone with a solitary swipe of his hand. Allowing you a moment to collect yourself, he decides that yes, he could. “Surely just a legend, my Prince…” you answer demurely, busying your hands and staring off into the distance as an unmistakable waft of heat courses from your bare neckline. He licks his lips, feeling a smirk curl the corners.

“Aren’t we all?” he purrs. Their eyes meet. “I assure you it is very real. A relic, to be sure. But real enough. And I require a partner to enact this Rite, else my succession to Asgard’s throne will not be entrenched in law. I have waited too long as it is, as I keep being reminded.”

“That’s very…interesting,” you say.

Loki straightens. He hadn’t taken you for a dullard, but he does appreciate the delayed gratification of enthusiasm at the proposal. Loki can hear your heart thud faster; he wonders how much of that blood is flushing to your sex beneath the gown billowing about your ankles. You glance at him and quickly look away. It makes Loki’s stomach twist. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps events in the bath-house were simply…opportunity. Or worse, fear. You clear your throat. “What is it, exactly? The Rite of Successional…” “—Pleasure,” Loki finishes abruptly. He rolls his shoulders back, steadying the flurry of unwelcome nerves in his chest.

“One of my family’s farcical traditions. When Asgard’s twin moons are in perfect equilibrium within the heavens, once every half millennia – eligible members of the royal family suitable for rule must, in order to be considered for finite succession, perform the Rite.” “Which is?”

Loki’s eyes fall down the curve of your neck, hovering on your moist lips. He’d thought of nothing else in the days since the bath-house; those lips sucked between his teeth, stretching around his cock; swollen and wet and…

“Pleasure.” It comes out sterner than intended. “To be given, only. A king must not just be skilled in diplomacy, in combat, in war and sacrifice, but in giving pleasure,” he says, imitating the cadence of his father’s voice with a caricatural wave of his hand. “How else can Asgard’s citizens know we are to be trusted, to be benevolent, if is not documented in the annals?”

“You can’t be serious,” you say. “I thought it was a joke, like the other things.” “Contrary to belief, I can be very serious indeed, little owl,” Loki replies with a smile. It fades. The weight of the pet name plucked from nowhere hangs in the air like smoke as you fidget with a fold of your dress. Gods, how he hates that it’s blue. “I still don’t see what it has to do with me,” you posture meekly. Loki tenses, words hissing between his teeth. “Bifrost’s blood, woman. I’m asking you to be my partner for the Rite. Must I carve it in stone?”

The widen of your eyes makes his stomach flutter and you attempt a clumsy curtsey which makes Thor’s staggered collapse among the strewn meats look elegant. “I…I don’t know what to…I—” Suddenly, you look up. “Is it witnessed?” “Of course.” Horror blossoms in your eyes. “Oh…it’s very tasteful,” Loki says, inspecting his nails. “Much more so than the Ceremony of the Sacred Seed, I assure you. It relies more on…aural methods. For the most part.”

“I’ve never been invited to that,” you reply absently, and Loki notes that your fingers have curled around his wrist armour, steadying yourself. “When is the…the moon thing?” “Five nights from now,” he says, and your jaw drops. “I understand I’ve left it rather late, but I really am in rather a bind.” The irony of him practically begging this unknown woman of the court to bring her the greatest ecstasy she’s ever know wasn’t lost on Loki, but for the moment at least…he decides to restrain his natural urge to remind her of that fact.

“Your reputation will only be enhanced, I assure you,” he adds. “It’s a great honour. And I am, if I may say, quite renowned for my skill in that department.” “Why me?” she asked. And there it was. He grimaced. “Don’t lie to me,” she added bravely, and his grimace deepened. “The Rite will only be valid if the recipient has never known the touch of a god. Or, more specifically their…essence. Our essences must never have touched each other. The punishment is severe; there are tomes and everything; rules…how I loathe them,” he says, offering a weak smile. Realisation blossoms in your eyes. “And…I’m afraid my roster has been rather full these past centuries.” A small laugh erupts from your throat that makes it incredibly difficult not to shut you up with his mouth. “Surely you can’t have fucked everyone in the high-court?”

Loki bit back a laugh of his own. “Rather brazen, aren’t you?” he says, narrowing his eyes. “Regrettably, my options in that circle are limited to Fandral. And I’m afraid I cannot bring myself to give him the satisfaction he most desperately desires; it’s far too much fun tormenting him.” You raise an eyebrow and Loki scoffs, smoothing a curl back. “Oh, don’t act so surprised. I know what they must say about me.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, your Highness,” you say with a conspiratorial smile.

“Liar,” Loki replies softly. The sparkle of your mischief fades, and he finds he immediately misses it. “So, I’m…a last resort, then?” “Somewhat, yes.” You bristle, goosebumps rising along your bare arms in the evening chill. Loki watches them flare, fighting the urge to soothe them with his fingertips. Another eruption of his brother’s drunken laughter bounces from the archways.

“What happened in the baths,” she says, eyeing him warily. “Wouldn’t that count? Wouldn’t your…uh, essence have…travelled?”

A small noise scratches from Loki’s throat. “Far too diluted. Fortunately…we were rather far apart.” She moves a step closer, looking up at him beneath her lashes. Her scent makes his mouth water. “And besides, if memory serves you made rather a hasty exit.” “If I agree to this, what’s in it for me?” you ask with a coolness he isn’t expecting. He frowns. “Aside from the obvious?” You shoot him a scathing glare. “You’ll be an honoured guest of Asgard’s highest echelons until the ceremony; luxurious quarters, the finest garments…yours to keep, naturally. A feast in your honour, the honour of my escort, a place in Asgard’s history, and of course…my eternal thanks.” He waits until you turn fractionally towards him before deploying a calculated wink. Your expression is stamped with suspicion, and yet he sees the intrigue nestled beneath the veneer of resistance. He’s not surprised when you shuffle closer, glancing over your shoulder. “Is there um…practice, involved?” Loki feels his brows shoot up. “Practice? Norns haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said? Our…”

He whips his cape as he spins, eyeing over his shoulder, catching the glint of Fandral’s flaxen hair hovering by the feasting table. “Our evidence of arousal cannot be in contact before the Rite…not a single drop, lest the entire ceremony be declared null and my honour as a successor questioned.” “Right,” you say stiffly. “Of course.” He can feel the heat of embarrassment radiating from your skin.

You need her, fool. Loki clears his throat with a dry rattle. “But we may…get to know each other. That is expected, at least. If you agree, of course.” You turn to him, eyes shimmering in moonlight. Loki wonders again how he could possibly have missed such a rare jewel in the drab sameness of Asgard’s court. He straightens as your finger runs over the metal at his wrist, trailing up the hem of his cape. “Are you allowed to kiss me?” you ask. A thick swallow works down his throat, his trousers tightening as you add, “What do the rules say about that?” Suddenly it feels as though he could be three-hundred again, unfamiliar nerves sizzling in his belly like fire. “I…there is no impediment to that particular act, no.” “Don’t you think it would be wise to…make sure we’re compatible before you make such a momentous decision?” A flush creeps up Loki’s neck above the high collar of his tunic as the clink of goblets and laughter continue inside the archway and he’s thankful for darkness. A muscle in his jawline twitches, fingers clenching and unclenching by his sides. There it was again, that audacity. So wilful, and yet…

In a flash his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you back with him into shadow. He slips a hand around your back, cushioning your spine as you meet rough stone with a gasp. Your sultry eyes look up at him with manufactured innocence.

“Let’s spare ourselves the virginal theatrics,” he hums, drawing his nose up the line of your cheekbone. The shiver that racks your body makes the toes in his boots curl. “You will be my partner for this sacred Rite?” You catch his lips with the brush of an autumn breeze, grazing against the words. The scent of you overwhelms him; a deep forest tang with overtures of a fragrant sweetness he can’t place.

He groans into the kiss, hungrier with every work of his mouth against the reach of your tongue. Loki’s hands slide up the swell of your breasts, each moan shivering from your throat into his making him want to explode.

As your fingers card through his hair, he realises the other hand is working down the harsh wall of tunic, sliding down his abdomen, hungry for the engorged lust strapped to his hip. There is a barrier, he thinks wildly, tempering his fear. There is a barrier. You squeeze. “Norns, woman…” he growls between gritted teeth, steadying a forearm against the wall behind your head as his gnawing kisses work down your neck. Stone veins spread in crunching crackles under the pressure. “Loki,” you gasp beneath him, bucking into the press of his armour into your endless curves. The realisation he can’t sate it hits with sudden, unwelcome clarity.

“Far too familiar,” he chides against your ear with a feigned derision that makes another moan snake from your throat. Loki’s cock throbs harder. “I remain your Prince, and you will address me as such.” You crush his lips with a kiss full of such desire Loki thinks he might shatter. His cock rubs against your stomach, harsh friction sending jolts of pleasure lancing through his body and suddenly, you break from him with a pant. “Do you want to know my name now, my Prince?”

His saliva rings your mouth; lips swollen and puffed. He nods twice, keeping his chin low on the second as his eyes flutter closed as you lean to his ear, whispering the word. Now that he knows it, he can’t imagine it being anything else.

“…and I’m no one’s last resort, not even a god,” you say, meeting his eyes. Loki steps back, jaw hardening as you smooth down the front of your dress. “I didn’t mean to imply—” “—Well, you did. So, if this still seems like a good idea in the morning, I expect to see you again under less…crowded circumstances.” Loki bit back the urge to protest, but as much as he was loathe to admit it…she had a point. Preparations for the Rite were usually conducted over months, and as he widened his stance, clasping his hands behind his back, a familiar coiffured sheaf of golden hair glinted and disappeared with suspicious urgency. “Unless you’d rather partake with Fandral?”

Loki’s stomach flips but he swallows down the urge to answer. “You’re familiar with my apprentice?” he asks. You nod. “He shall come for you at noon tomorrow.” A small smile flickers at your glistening lips. “Very well, your Highness,” you say, sinking into a curtsey that makes Loki’s cock ache before rising and gliding towards the open archway. He rolls his lips together, fighting the urge to follow you – but he’s already shown his hand too heavily tonight.

As you pass through the arch, Thor wobbles in the other direction, casting a quizzical glance backwards. “There you are, brother,” he slurs, slumping onto the balcony. His arm makes a heavy gesture towards the party, swinging wildly. “She is the one?” Loki bristles. “Yes, brother.”

“Finally. Norns preserve us, I thought you’d never make it. You know she is not suitable for the ceremony if she has been...sampled, already?” he asks as both eyebrows rise. Loki scoffs and throws his brother an incredulous stare. “I know that,” he snarls. “What do you take me for, some kind of rube?” Thor sighs, picking a slice of cured boar from his breastplate and dangling into his mouth. “Let’s hope you can satisfy her, then – in every way. For all our sakes.” Loki’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “If you can scrape past the requirements, we both know I shall have no issue.” “Mmm,” his brother hums. “If it wasn’t for the other matter her response will be measured on.”

“It’s all in hand, brother,” he lies, ignoring the thump of his heart, watching the bob of your head as you wind between intoxicated council members towards the door. “Five moons is more than enough time for that.” And beside him, Thor snorts.

Chapter Three: Measurement The Masterlist for the Rite is here Tags in comments (≧ヮ≦) 💕

[howtheavengerswould]

how the avengers + peter would react...

𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝘼𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉.

Peter always wanted to go an a real, official mission. He doesn't even care if you've failed, he looks up to you anyways. Screw everyone else if they think differently; you're cool for having gone on one in the first place!

Tony would have been dissapointed, but maybe it's just the way he saw how dissapointed you already were in yourself. Instead, he has you sitting beside him in his workshop, letting you watch him design some fancy new technology he's had in the works ...(it's really just a new suit, but Pepper would kill him if anyone found out.) Building stuff is his way of forgetting his problems, and some part of his mind thinks that letting you watch him will let you forget the dissapointment of today.

If Steve was dissapointed, he certainly didn't say it. Instead, he does his best to cheer you up--he had been in your place many years ago, after all. He knows what it's like to fail, and how it can crush a person. His first thought was to offer you ice cream... he's not really sure what the 'kids' like these days. You seem to like the ice cream, so he considers it a job well done.

Natasha was dissapointed, to say the least. Good thing she has a soft spot for you, or you'd be running laps for the mistake you'd made. Most agents usually get that treatment with her, but seeing the pure dissapointment on your face made her change tactics. Natasha isn't one to sugarcoat, and of course, she tells you all of the ways you could have done better, but above all, she tells you everything you'd done well. Constructive criticism is necessary for success, after all. (Afterwards, Natasha totally accompanies you on another mission and does everything in her power to help you complete it... without doing it herself, of course.)

Clint had been on backup when he'd seen you mess up, and was quick to save you from the tough spot you'd put yourself in. He was quick to reassure you that the mission could always be redone another time, and he was glad you were safe and unharmed. He was stressed, of course, but having you safe was his priority.

Bruce was the fastest of all the Avengers to get to you once you'd gotten home. He was quick, checking you over for injuries and shushing you as you tried to provide excuses for what you'd done. He is the first to tell you not to worry, and that everyone screws up. To his embarrassment, he decides to tell you a story about himself, a few years after the Avengers' formation.

Thor laughed it off when you told him you had failed. He, of course, started laughing boisterously. He might've thought you were being sarcastic, but when he realised that you were serious, he was quick to jump to condolences...and the offering of mead, of course. Because alcohol makes everything better. Sort of. The rest of the Avengers would find the two of you slumped over a couch, giggling incoherently.

requests open.

[thorsource]

"The stars are in the same places I left them. For all the time spent in your wilderness, no time here has passed. Yet all the same, I slept the All-Sleep... I return renewed... And that is all that is keeping thine head upon thy shoulders! What meant you by this game, Loki?"

IMMORTAL THOR #3

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2025-01-05

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Loki Odinson stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

A/N: I was running out of room on my original. I Like to keep authors together so I transfer the more current authors (ones whom are consistently updating) here!

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ By Hook or By Crook by give-me-a-moose • 18+ • 〔E᜶F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You have spent your entire life scheming for Loki’s affections. Loki has spent his entire life protecting you from his darkest desires. In the game of love, who will win?"

➔ Princess and the Prince, the by agentofkrypton • 18+ • 〔E᜶F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

Synopsis: Loki Odinson was the darker prince, the one who caused mischief... You are innocent and sweet, while Loki is rough and mean. Yet you still fall in love with him, and for you, he melts.

✑ 50 Shades of Green by fictive-sl0th • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: After the team mistakes you for Thor's girlfriend, Loki reminds you who your husband is...

✑ A Fine Silken Robe by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Summary: "Loki has a luxurious w*nk [while thinking about] you."

✑ A Strange Little World by ijuststareatstuffhereok89 •

✑ All I Could Give You by muddyorbsblr • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "It seems that nearly the entirety of Asgard had forgotten that today was supposed to be a day of celebration. Everyone but you, at least."

✑ Chambermaid, the by wheredafandomat • 18+ • 〔M᜶E〕 •

✑ Chosen by lillianofliterature • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Synopsis: After Thor asks to court you, Loki's livid, believing he has once again lost to his 'perfect' brother, little does he know he's the one that hold your heart.

✑ Coronation by sserpente • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: Imagine being Thor's and Loki's childhood friend. While Loki and you secretly begin developing romantic feelings for one another, it is Thor who unexpectedly asks to court you on the day of his coronation…

✑ Handmaiden, the by rosaline-black • 〔F〕 •

Summary: You are but a simple handmaiden, daughter of the cook, but Loki is enchanted by you.

✑ Heirs￨Prt. II by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki starts your marriage by breaking tradition. Naturally."

✑ I Feel Like I'm Drowning by mischiefmaker615 • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: Enough is enough.. no more excuses, no more hints..

➔ Ice and Fire by loving-barnes • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Synopsis: Loki's jealousy makes him do more than just fight the girl he secretly loves.

✑ In Defence of a Prince by tricksterlokilaufeyson • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: After stepping up to defend him during a night out, Loki rewards you for your loyalty.

✑ In the Quiet of the Morning by sarahscribbles • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Soft morning sex with Loki.

✑ Intertwined Hearts by holdmytesseract • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After a conversation with his mother, Loki makes a big decision —and surprises you."

✑ King of Asgard by smolvenger • 18+ • 〔F᜶E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: As the wife of Prince Loki of Asgard, you suddenly discover that Odin and Thor are gone. You are made queen and your dear husband is king. But a king needs an heir...

✑ Little Valkyrie by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♡ •

Summary: "Imagine Loki sneaking you into the Avengers Tower for a night full of passionate love-making. Getting caught by the Avengers, however, was not part of the plan..."

✑ Love is Mischief by holymultiplefandomsbatman • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "...A prank leads you to come to terms with your feelings, but does Loki feel the same way?"

✑ My Darling Dove by clandestineloki • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Prompt(s): "You're so innocent, yet your curiosity wanders far beyond anything pure. Shall I be your guide to the most sinful, ravishing, and utterly glorious pleasures of all?"

✑ Needle in a Haystack by wherethefandomat • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Today's the day Loki returns from Midgard with Thor and you can't wait to have your prince back in your arms or between your legs.

✑ Never Enough by liminalpebble • 〔M᜶C〕 •

Summary: "It's not a easy life in Asgard's palace as Frigga's witchling apprentice and a victim of relentless teasing thanks to Thor and his warrior posse. You feel like a failure and a misfit, until the patron god of failures and misfits decides to comfort you."

➔ Never Let Go || Prt. 02 by ladylovesloki • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Synopsis: You and Loki have been courting for long time, you're both ready to take the next step in your relationship. However, there is someone determined to make sure you never walk down the aisle.

➔ Observing, Learning, Fantasizing by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Synopsis: Loki's just been made King of Asgard and he needs to make sure that he tells you vital piece of information about him before you hear it from gossip mongerers among the realm.

✑ Prince is Dead, the￨Prt. II by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "Shaken by Loki's death on Svartálfheim, you confront the one you blame the most. Odin."

✑ Princess & the Stable Boy, the by ijuststareatstuffhereok89 •

✑ Sober Thoughts by certifiedskywalker • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Odin's sons know how to party and they love to try to drag you along with them. Even when you decide to spend the night in, Thor and Loki have a habit of bringing the party to you."

✑ Spring Heat by joyful-enchantress • 18+ • 〔E᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: You help your husband through his yearly heat, which is part of the Jotun mating cycle. He's afraid he might hurt you, but you are determined to stay...

✑ Sworn Fidelity by muddyorbsblr • 16+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •

Summary: When the others conspired to bring Thor home, you attempted to stop them fearing Loki's wrath. When they inevitably subdue you and your fellow soldiers, you're the one tasked to relay to him the unfortunate turn of events.

✑ Take All of Me by five-miles-over • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki takes great delight in 'ruining' his innocent, shy girlfriend for the first time"

✑ That Black Suit by idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "[You've feelings for] Loki and can't keep it a secret after seeing Loki in the black suit."

✑ Thin Ice by mischiefmaker615 •

Summary: You make the discovery that Loki is a Frost Giant

✑ Welcome Him Home by sarahscribbles • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki has only one wish when he arrives home from a [six-week-long] battle."

✑ Who Could Ever Compare to You? by trashywormeateroffics • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You have a conversation with Loki after he does some dumb things because of jealousy."

✑ A Bargain by tricksterlokilaufeyson • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

➔ A Not So Funny Joke by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ A Quiet Celebration by sarahscribbles • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Being Followed by divine-knight-hand •

✑ Courage to Make Love Known by idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 • 〔F〕 •

✑ Enough by tricksterlokilaufeyson • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

➔ Flowers by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Flustered by Asgard's Prince by idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

✑ Heaven Help the Fool… by five-miles-over • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

➔ His Fair Lady by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ I'm Right Here, Love by tricksterlokilaufeyson • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

➔ Jealous? by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

➔ Jealousy by idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Light to His Dark, the by dilemmaontwolegs • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

➔ Little God by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

➔ Little Moments by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ My Innocent Princess by clandestineloki •

✑ My Mistakes by theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction •

✑ My Queen by sserpente • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Pet by mostly-marvel-musings • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Pledge Allegiance by wherethefandomat • 16+ • 〔E〕 •

✑ Purple and Red by sarahscribbles • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Safe and Sound by sserpente • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Seamstress, the by yetanotherhiddlestoner • 〔F〕 •

✑ Secret by agentofkrypton • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sleepy Prince by agentofkrypton • 〔F〕 •

✑ Stay Here with Me by asgardwinter • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ To War by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔E᜶M〕 •

✑ Wound by baseballbitch116 • 〔F᜶E〕 •

✑ You're Alive by idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 • 〔M〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ You Tell Her, or I Will by lokidokieokie • 〔F᜶M〕 •

➔ Betrothed to Thor, but Falling for Loki… by agentofkrypton • 〔F᜶M〕 •

✑ Waking Loki Up with Sweet Kisses by multific • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Loki Odinson Master Index

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[ninus9607]

Could you write a nsfw a-z for thor please❤️❤️❤️

❝𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬❞

NSFW Alphabet - Thor Odinson

Pairing(s): Thor Odinson x Female! reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warning: little bit of smut - minors DNI

tags: l content: Praise Kink, Edging, Spanking Kink, DomSub Dynamics, Roleplay Kink, Possessive Lover, Powerplay, Size Kink, Overstimulation, God Complex, SoftDomThor, NSFWHeadcanons

Hey ANON! Hope you liked it! And of course I'm sorry for any mistake!

xx

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Thor is the softest man after sex. He may be a literal god of thunder, but when it comes to you, he expresses love, empathy, and care. No matter how harsh or intense things became, he's immediately checking in on you when it's over, making sure you're okay, wiping your hair back from your face, and saying, "Did I hurt you, my love?" even if you're smiling like the most delighted person alive.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Thor's favorite part of himself? Definitely his arms. The guy knows he's powerful; he's swung Mjölnir, fought gods and demons, and lifted things no human could imagine. But he really enjoys seeing how you respond when he wraps those strong, muscled arms around you. Whether he's lifting you easily or trapping you under him, the look of delight in your eyes is his favorite reward.

How about you? Thor is in love with your thighs. He believes they're perfect, no matter how they look. He enjoys grabbing them, keeping you open with his hands firmly planted, and resting his head on them after a hard day. Bonus: he's just the kind who says, "I could die a happy man between these thighs."

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Thor is a lot in every manner. That includes this. He's not arrogant about it, either; he enjoys cumming within you. Something about the closeness, the rawness of it, brings out his primordial impulses. It's territorial, messy, and his. He'll squeeze his body close to your neck, muttering your name as he fills you, gripping you tight as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

He also enjoys the sight of it dripping off you afterward; it triggers something deep and old in him. If you're too tired to move, that's fine, he'll just smile, say a few compliments, and take care of everything while you rest.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

What's his dirtiest fantasy? You're on your knees, eyes wide with shock, lips murmuring "my god" in reverence. Not for his abilities, but for how amazing he makes you feel. And he wants to repay that energy tenfold, to show you what it is to be loved by a god, to be destroyed and adored in equal measure.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Oh, Thor certainly knows what he is doing. He's had centuries - literally centuries. To enjoy the pleasures of the skin, both his own and others. From crazy evenings in Asgardian feasting halls to hot moments under cosmic stars, he's witnessed and experienced more than most people can imagine.

F = Favourite Position

But don't be fooled: he likes any position that keeps you near. Spooning is a gentle favorite, especially when he wants to go slow and deep, with his arms wrapped tightly around you as if you were about to slide away. And when he feels really dominant? Bending over anything in the room will be enough.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Thor? Oh, he's completely goofy, especially when the mood suits him. He's the sort to throw a joke just before things become heated, hoping to make you laugh before making you moan. He's energetic, pleasant, and somewhat overconfident. Expect clever remarks like:

"Is that a thunderclap or just me rocking your world?"

He's also not afraid to be ridiculous, he'll fake-flex in the mirror, give theatrical grunts as if he's in an epic war, or dramatically toss his hair and wink at you mid-thrust. It's all fun for him, and he enjoys making you giggle even when you're tangled in blankets.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

He doesn't stress with grooming—he's confident in each part of himself—but he does make sure everything is clean, soft, and welcoming. If you teased him about it, he'd probably smile and say:

"Wouldn't want to disappoint you, now would I?"

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

He'll draw you in, his forehead resting on yours, his hands slowly caressing your face as if he's memorizing every inch of you. He believes in the power of calm, meaningful moments, whispering lovely things between kisses, telling you how beautiful you are, and how much he loves you.

When things become heated, he's not afraid to show off his passion, yet there's still an emotional intensity.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Dominance - Thor has a natural, strong presence and likes taking charge of the bedroom. His confidence and power make him dominate, especially towards his lover. He enjoys being in command and seeing his partner surrender to him.

Roleplay - As a god of myth and legend, Thor likes playing many roles in the bedroom. He may portray a mighty monarch, a tough warrior, or even a lovely prince, bringing his fantasies to life via his charisma and strength.

Spanking - Thor has huge and powerful hands, and he likes playful discipline. He isn't hesitant to utilize his power to provide a solid slap, especially if it increases the pleasure and brings out his partner's submissive side.

Edging - Thor enjoys bringing his partner to the edge of pleasure and holding them there as they wait for the release. It's a test of patience, and he enjoys seeing their dissatisfaction and anticipation grow before giving them what they desire.

Praise Kink - Thor thrives on praise, both physically and emotionally. He adores receiving praise, especially when his spouse expresses appreciation, telling him how strong, powerful, and great he is.

L = Location (Favourite places to do they do)

He really enjoys doing it outside, whether it's below the stars in a lonely spot near the woods, where the world appears to be peaceful and just the two of you exist, or on a calm length of beach, with the sound of the ocean and the breeze around you. The excitement of being outside, knowing that you are alone together, makes it feel more intimate and brave.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Thor is motivated by several kinds of factors, but what genuinely drives him is your confidence and the way you look at him. When you take power, even with a teasing smile or a humorous quip, he feels something. He loves it when you take the lead, but especially when you show some vulnerability.

Also, whenever you're on your knees hahah...

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Finally, Thor is not into self-harm or any act that appears aggressive or extreme. While he may be tough when the mood strikes, he is always concerned about your well-being and would never pass a boundary that could cause you harm. The concept of making you feel uncomfortable or in pain (unless you openly request anything in that area and it is consensual) would absolutely turn him off.

O = Oral (Preference for giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Thor enjoys both giving and receiving, and he is really outstanding at it. He feels confident in his talents and appreciates the intimacy of performing oral sex. He enjoys both getting and giving attention. He doesn't simply lie there passively; he's vocal, directing you and telling you exactly what he wants. It's a power move for him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc)

Thor's speed is highly dependent on his mood and the situation. When he's feeling playful or really passionate, he might be quick and brutal, motivated solely by want. When he's in a more sensitive and romantic mood, he'll slow down the pace, focusing on every touch and kiss, making sure every movement is drawn out and seductive. He'll take his time, probing your body slowly.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not very into it...

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc?)

Thor is certainly willing to take chances, but not in the reckless way you might think. He's willing to try anything, whether it's a new position, a new setting, or exploring kinks, as long as it feels good for both of you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last...)

HE'S A GOD!

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Thor's connection with toys isn't something he wants or needs, but he's not afraid to use them when the situation calls for it. Thor's interest is piqued when you suggest using something, such as a vibrator, a blindfold, or even a plug. He discovers the notion of helping you explore your desires.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Thor isn't really into teasing, and when it comes to being unfair, it's just not his style.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Thor is surprisingly noisy in the bedroom, but just in the form of deep, rumbling grunts and moans, not anything overly exaggerated. His voice naturally carries, especially when he's absorbed in the moment, and you can sense his joy in every sound he makes.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He'll also surprise you with gifts that prove he's been paying attention to your needs or hobbies, such as a unique blend of tea from Midgard or a hand-carved wooden trinket from one of his many trips.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Thor's physique is nothing short of a masterpiece, combining raw force with heavenly elegance. Years of war and physical training have molded his muscles, with wide shoulders that taper down to a chiseled chest and tight abs.

12 inch...............

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Thor's sex drive is incredibly high!

Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Thor is a heavy sleeper who falls asleep practically quickly following sex. His body, used to battling and long days, tends to fail when he is not actively involved. After making love, he'll hug you close for a few seconds, enjoy the warmth and intimacy, but then his breathing deepens and he passes unconscious.

[plscallmeeren]

H E A D C A N O N S

Loki Laufeyson / Odinson x Reader

Request: no just feeling in love

Summary: completely mixed batch of romantic headcanons including fluff, smut and some toxic things that would probably come into play at some point

Warnings: some general sexual stuff but nothing rough lol; mentions of extreme jealousy etc

Word Count: about 1K

He loves recommending books to you and talking about them afterward. It used to be him accidentally gushing about a book (usually poetry or fairy tales) and at some point you just started reading them without him knowing. Eventually he gave up on keeping the titles secret.

At first he was put off when you weren't too submissive during sex, but he adopted the "treat her like a Queen" idea and now, without diminishing his own pride, he looks forward to worshipping you every day.

He loves dancing - spinning you around the room, slow steps, but very close - anything. If you are in a room filled with of people he can show you off, but alone it is just as intimate.

When he's insecure, he can revert to considering himself superior. You generally let him be aloof for a while before addressing the problem directly, but it's a struggle every time to make him admit why he has low self esteem.

He has a treasured copy of Nordic fairy tales with beautiful illustrations that he shows only you. He lets you tenderly flip the pages, in awe at wonders like forest fairies, nymphs, glamorous witches and hags alike. Not like Thor, that 'oaf'.

One night, you sat on the edge of the your shared bed, legs bare, teasing him for how desperately he wanted you. He knelt before you, whispering "please", kissing his way up from your ankle to your thigh on one leg.

Loki hates it when she is a woman and is handles awkwardly at first. You have a habit of immediately talking to her or circling an arm around her waist when she enters the room so that she can't worry to the point of turning back into a male body.

He loved hearing his name from your lips as he pleasures you: "Loki, Loki, Loki". It is only right for a god to be subject to whispered prayer.

He makes fun of/critiques Thor a lot, but in quieter moments he loves telling childhood stories and Thor's adventures. On darker days he will ask whether you're sure you wouldn't prefer Thor - after all, everyone else did.

He lives to kiss you. It sounds dopey, but anywhere, anytime, in front of everyone - kissing you on the lips, on your neck, hair, chest, arms, especially hands. Anything to taste you, to feel as close as possible.

She feels particularly sound in her own body when you fuck her as a woman. When she's spread out before you, bare, there's no hiding who she is, and you are more than happy to ravage her as much as their common body.

Loki doesn't need much sleep. At night, he sometimes feels lonely and yearns for the halls of Asgard. He cries quietly in bed, careful not to wake you. Some days, he retreats to the library and sobs, cries absorbed by surrounding stories.

Tea. Tea. Tea. Always. And every time he makes a cup for himself, you get one, too. He knows your favourites and which ones you like at what time of day.

He writes you letters. Love letters full of poems - some of his own hand and others quoted - and confessions. Every swooping letter is drawn with careful precision, every reference a new find from the library in honour of you. Such a hopeless romantic. When you write such letters back, leaving them with him before he wakes, he almost sheds tears of bliss.

If you have tattoos or scars or burns - anything of the like - he will trace them, stare at them as he comes, turned on endlessly by every unique mark on your body. All his. No one else knows every freckle like him.

He is possessive. He always has been, and as much as you try and calm him and prevent jealousy... sometimes he yells at you for talking to someone else too much. Sometimes he whispers that you have betrayed him like his father. Sometimes you find him searching through your things; what for, you will never know.

Loki loves your laugh, and he will do the most ridiculous things to earn it. Before knowing you, he would have considered every antic and joke beneath him and embarrassing, but he hardly cares anymore. That is, until Thor laughs so loud from beside you that he can't hear anything at all.

Stargazing. He points out every constellation, knows every myth - some are inspired by people he knows.

He reads to you. He takes you on surprise picnics and plans fancy evenings.

He loved how you see through his lies and tall tales, but take him seriously or laugh anyway. Every one of them has a grain of truth, after all, and it doesn't make him untrustworthy.

He doesn't really swear, but secretly likes it when you sound harsh talking to others.

Loki will talk about your future all the time, especially after making love, rambling on about your house, lifestyle, garden, parties.

You talk for hours at once, incorrigible.

No one can calm him down like you. The moment you touch his arm when he's yelling at Thor or anyone else, it ceases, but he sometimes pretends to be angry a bit longer, just enough to get to your room and keep his pride in front of the others.

Loki loves you. Selflessly. Eternally. Insatiably.