#loki and nora's infinity stone playlist

[nildespirandum]

In honor of the season, I have decided to bring back my best Christmas story. 

18+ absolutely!  Art by my dearest @caffiend-queen​

All Loki and I want for Christmas is reblogs.  

Loki and Nora normally get along beautifully but when trauma causes him to become to over-protective she decides to return to Chicago for the holidays without him.

Thor heard raised voices coming from Nora’s library almost as soon as he boarded his brother’s massive ship, despite the great distance between where the Bifrost had left him on the deck and the hold that had been lovingly made over for his sister-in-law’s comfort.

Needless to say Thor at first made the logical, experience-based assumption that Loki and his wife were making love.  At the top of their lungs. As always.

For a moment he planned to seek out Charles, his brother’s excellent demon valet, for cookies and ale for him to while away the next few hours until they were finished, yet as he walked towards the galley he noticed there was something in the pitch and speed of their voices to give him pause.  

Despite himself, Thor started moving towards the sounds, trying to make out their voices and what was being shouted, fully prepared to be traumatized if his new assumption was wrong and they were, in fact, making the beast with two backs.

Or, because of Loki’s ability to make clones, any number of backs.

Yet when he leaned casually toward the doors to listen, it was clearly an argument.

Then Thor stood straight up, hand covering his mouth, eyes so wide he could feel them bugging.

It was not an argument.  Or a disagreement. Or a debate.  

Loki and Nora were having a fight.  An ugly, screaming, profanity laden, honest to Bor fight!

There was no question that Thor envied Loki and Nora’s relationship.  

Not their love.  Thor had been in love so many, many times - Sif certainly, Jane utterly, Amora reluctantly, Brunnhilde athletically, Lorelai occasionally - but he’d never had what might be called an enduring relationship.  

Even allowing as much might be an impediment to such a relationship - the most being Thor’s having to be involved in stopping the destruction of all things time and again which was very time consuming - he still found himself sometimes brooding about his solitary life.

As time went by and he grew wiser and knew himself better he came to know the irony of it, having that painful envy over the one thing that Loki had that he had not.  

Once Thor was brave and for that matter drunk enough to mention it not to his brother but to Nora.

His kind hearted sister laughed in his face.  “Sorry, big guy,” she said, her head bent near to the mahogany bar top, her hand slapping it over and over, “but you know you sound like an asshole right now, right?”

“Er…”  Nora was normally the one who cosseted and found ways to ease the way between himself and Loki so her response was a bit of a shock.

“No,” she lifted her head, shaking a hand towards him, “No.  First off, you don’t get to EVER tell him that. I know you probably think it will make him feel better, but it won’t.  It won’t. It will make him suspicious and uncomfortable and no matter how many times either of us reassure him, himself is still going to think it means you want me.  

“He’ll never sleep again.”

Thor was offended for both of them, “Surely my brother will not-”

She waved her hand close in his face, making him start back.  Nora seemed to ever forget he was a god. Even a few of the Avengers treated him with more deference than she.  

Well, no they didn’t, but that was not the point.

“No!  He WILL know better, and it WON’T make any difference.  So shut it.” She put her fingers, smelling of hops and bacon, near his lips and pulled them away in a dramatic gesture.  

Truly, she was Loki’s wife.

“Second, second, second!”  She slapped the bar again, and the bartendress brought another round unbidden, but before she could respond Loki had returned and so whilst Nora slipped off to attend to personal business Thor turned to his brother, who was also drunk, and asked in a more general way how one might go about being in love with someone for rather a long time.

Loki leaned forward, placing his elbows on the bar, “I do not know, brother, and you know how I hate to admit such a thing.  Nora is … everyone likes Nora. It is astonishing the beings we have met who find all other creatures loathsome and yet still can find it them to appreciate my wife’s decency, her wit, her kindness.  I am one of those beings.  She is as loveable as sleep and good food and,” he took a drink and then poured himself another, “excellent wine.  

“Yet, I alone worship her, adore her, know that she is not merely a lovely, excellent human, but a goddess.  Not one of our Aesir goddesses, rather a true goddess. I am priest, acolyte, and supplicant all to her at once, and all that is beneficent in my life is at her hand.  As one who lived over a thousand years without truly falling in love it still shocks me to the core that I am so fortunate as to wake with a divinity in my bed.”

“Awww…. I like you, too,” Nora’s voice came from behind them.  Thor watched her coil her arms about his brother, resting her cheek on the top of his head, whilst Loki smiled into his cup, “But see, that’s it.  Lots of people worship this one.” She tugged on a black strand of hair. “They don’t like him but they worship or try to placate him. Worry about what he’s going to do.  And I do, too. God, do I fucking worry sometimes. But the thing is that I like him. I like you,” she said, pressing a kiss to the crown of Loki’s head. “I like you more than anyone or anything ever.  I wake up every morning wondering what trouble you’ve gotten into already, and also thinking that I get to spend another day with my favorite person.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Loki then reached around and pulled Nora onto his lap, where they settled into together with an ease and perfection of position that could only come from being together for so long.  Their very bones seemed to have curved towards accommodating the other.

Thor’s heart ached, with joy and pain, their comfort, and based on the look in their eyes, their ardor.  At what he lacked.

So hearing them fight so was, he surmised, like a small Midgardian child discovering there was no Santa Claus.  

At that moment, the massive doors of the storage bay that had been made over for Nora both burst open, slamming back on the walls with an ear-harming clang, so Thor knew before he saw him that Loki was exiting.  His brother’s sense of drama was one of his scant predictable behaviors.

Loki stalked out, fury in every line of his body, a snarl pulling back his upper lip, his hands tensing and squeezing into fists, his hair a wild cloud of fury trailing behind him.

“Thor,” he said with a slight, haughty nod as he swept past.

Classic Loki.  Thor had seen it thousands of times.  

But not lately.  Not since Nora.

Who followed, practically running, “Fine, then, I’ll see you in January!”  She shouted at his brother’s retreating back, then added, “Maybe!” Also noticing Thor, she too nodded, not haughty so much as distracted, “Big guy,” and then headed in the opposite direction.

Over his shoulder, Loki called out to his wife, “I hope you enjoy the shuttle trip all of the way back to Midgard, for I am locking the doorway.”

“If you aren’t with me it will be a pleasure,” she called back, her voice deceptively breezy.

Considering his two options, Thor decided it was better to find Charles.

“While I have lived among humans and creatures like humans for countless years I am afraid that some of their emotional responses are still a bit perplexing to me, sir,” Charles said as he poured Thor a tankard of glogg and offered him a plate of freshly cut gingerbread.  

It was at that moment that Thor noted that the Naglikjóll was bedecked with evergreen boughs and red ribbons, twinkling with magical lights of many colours and scenting the air like a pine forest on Midgard.  Norns! Was it Yule already again? He had been on his latest adventure in Helheim for longer than he’d thought, but had that much time truly passed?

Knowing that they were close to Christmas helped Thor have some understanding about the rancor between Loki and Nora.  “Ah, so they are fighting over where to spend the holiday? Nora wishes to go home and Loki prefers to pretend that it is not happening.”

Charles refilled his tankard.  “That may be the inflexion point, Master Thor, but I fear this has been stewing for some time.  Since Sakaar, or more precisely, those events that led to Master Loki’s transformation and slavery.”

“Ah, Nora’s more or less dying,” Thor said with a nod.

It had been some few years since Thor and his companions had accompanied Nora on her rescue mission to save his brother from the Grandmaster’s gladiatorial games, as well as to restore his memories, lost due to the trauma of thinking his beloved wife was rather horribly dead.  

Whilst Loki could normally devour the type of trauma that would make most beings collapse in a pile of shuddering darkness for breakfast, the idea that Nora could come to harm under his watch had proved debilitating to him.  Even though he seemed to improve for a time, clearly he was more affected than he would confess to, certainly not to his brother, and apparently not even to his wife.

Over the months since those events Loki retreated more and more, spending little time anywhere but within the safety of his ship, which he kept on the farthest edges of the Nine, rarely even allowing Nora to visit her beloved home.  

In Thor’s mind he pictured Loki as the Jólakötturinn, massive, dark, and furious, crouched in a den, wrapped about Nora, lashing out with a gigantic paw with claws like scimitars whenever anyone dared approach her.

Now, Nora certainly wanted to return to Chicago for the yuletide and Loki objected, causing, predictably to even Thor, her to decide to return without him.  There was some comfort in the fact that Loki was seemingly not making an effort to restrain her, as that was one area in which Nora had no tolerance for her husband’s trickster ways and regal neurosis.  Should he chose not to respect her autonomy the consequences for their marriage would be dire indeed.

“Charles, when you are finished seeing to the needs of my uninvited guest, I need these items from the larder.  Please bring them to my working chamber,” Loki said, his tone bored. He lounged in the doorway, a piece of parchment dangling from his fingers as he offered it to Nora’s valet.  

He was trying damned hard to look casual and was failing badly.  The periodic twitch of his shoulder and the shiftiness of his eyes were telling, though Loki had always been a bit shifty.  

“Of course, sir.”

“Feel free to eat me out of ship and home and then leave, Thor.  It is not a good time for a family reunion,” Loki said before adding, “Not all of the gingerbread, though,” and then slipping away.

Thor idly looked at the list whilst Charles went to the galley for more glogg.

Nine types of rope - from roughest twine to silken ribbons, all black.

A jar that has never been used.

Two cups of water than have never run through metal.

Wormwood, heather, and calamus.

A few other things, all of which tickled the part of Thor’s brain where his mother’s old attempts to teach him at least a little seidr or protective witchcraft were stored.

Normally a magic user of Loki’s power and skill would not need such simple ingredients, saving he should not want his signature to be on the spell he was -

Thor thought about nine kinds of string.

Damn.

Loki was the most intelligent person Thor had ever known, meaning that when he chose to be stupid it was inevitably an act of monstrous idiocy, such as the one he was clearly preparing for.

Sighing, Thor drained his mug, allowing Charles to refill it, “I would recommend delaying the gathering of my brother’s items for the nonce, good servant, if your honor allows you to do so.”

Charles nodded, “Madam Nora asked me to help her fetch her bags from storage, and Master Loki always insists her needs take precedence.”  

Thor girded his loins, knowing two things.  One, his conversation with Loki was going to go poorly, as was their wont.  

And after all of this was over, he really wanted to find and fight the Jólakötturinn.

    *****************************************************************

“And that is why you cannot bind your wife.”  Thor finished.

Or Loki assumed he was finished.  He had stopped listening to his brother about the time he had shown himself in Loki’s workroom with two mugs of glogg and a rather self-righteous air.  

Loki had accepted the first and was so used to the second he barely noticed it any longer.

A small, shouting corner of his mind recognized that this was one of those rare, gem-like moments when Thor was correct and he should listen, but the larger portion of his brain was screaming much louder that it was the worst form of irresponsible madness to let Nora go, dancing blindly on the precipice of disaster and death out in the wild universe, and that if she were to come to hate him, well, that was as would be.

Loki was very comfortable with being hated, much more so than he was Nora being dead.

Gently placing his favorite image of Nora - she was laying naked on her stomach on one of the reading couches in her library, looking at him from over the top of her book, her ankles daintily crossed and her hair a mess - in the middle of his work table he mentally sketched out the nine knots he would use with the nine pieces of cord to bind the jar in which he would place the picture, submerged in water and herbs.  Should he do it perfectly she would have no idea what he had done.  

If only she were not so familiar with the tang and taste of his natural seidr it would be so much easier.

Oh, Thor was still talking.  

Loki shook his head.  He could ignore his brother all day.  

There was the smallest shudder in his ship.  He might not have even noticed, save that there he could see the glogg in his cup slosh just a bit.

“What was that?” he asked his Naglikjóll.

Her husky, Asgardian purr responded, “The Bifrost, my king….”

Loki frowned.  Only Thor - sometimes accompanied by Sif and the Groupies Three - ever came to the ship from Asgard, which was why he had allowed the Bifrost access.  “Who has arrived?”

“No one, Sire.  Your wife has departed.”

Fury burned through him like acid, “THOR!”

His brother gave a sheepish shrug, “You weren’t listening, or you would have -”

“NOOOOORRRRAAAA!!!!!!!”  Loki’s fury broke every bit of glass in his workroom.  

Which meant they had to flee before the miasma of odors and the rage of O-verk, the tiny, penis shrinking dragon that lived in a terrarium on a high shelf and was very glad to be free.

     ******************************************************************************

The first thing Nora did was use a little safety spell that Loki had given her in case something dangerous should happen to his sanity or, remembering Thanos, mental autonomy, and sealed the 999 building against him.  Not just their penthouse but the whole thing.

Then she built a fire, because it was almost Christmas.

She ordered a tree and decorations, and a lot of food.

She let her friends know she was home, though it being Christmas Eve she knew she wouldn’t be seeing any of them for a few days.

Then she sat on her couch, put on a precious, rare pressing of Dean Martin’s Christmas Blues and played it twenty times, singing along louder and louder with each play as she drank most of a bottle of gluhwein.

When her voice was hoarse, and her stomach bothering her, since after hitting fifty she couldn’t drink like she used to, she plopped onto one of the wing-backed chairs near the fire and glared at the black velvet couch that was the site of many of her favorite adventures with Loki.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” she said to no one.

   ********************************************************************************

When Loki had finally calmed down - after wreaking a great deal of havoc on his own belongings, after several fires and the destruction of some irreplaceable garments, their gifted creators having long since died or lost their ‘edge’, after a punching match with Thor that left them both bruised and annoyed since one of the protective spells on the ship made violence over a certain level impossible and therefore disappointed their mutual desire to pound each other into unrecognizable parts, and after finally going into Nora’s library alone and bursting into enough furious tears and bellowing to leave himself worn out - he realised he was an ass.

“Fine,” he said, snapping into a pfeffernüsse from a plate that Charles had placed on the floor and shoved into the room. “I shall simply have to be an adult about this and go and apologize.”

Which was when he found that door between his ship and Nora’s building was sealed against him.

The second round of his rage was rather shorter, but involved enough ice that even Thor had to put on a sweater.

Sulking in the library again, this time with pizelles and thumbprint cookies, he schemed.  He plotted. He connived. He tapped his fingertips together and let a wide, rather sinister smile grow across his thin lips in a fashion very much like that other villainous yet misunderstood aficionado of the color green - The Grinch.

“Very well.  I shall have to consult some Midgardian seasonal wisdom, for my treasure’s sake...”

   ****************************************************************************

On Christmas morning Nora woke up alone, except for a large fruit tree that had grown overnight in her bedroom, with a partridge teetaring at the top of its lungs.

From one limb hung an especially succulent looking pear, with a dark pink flush over its delicate flesh, she could smell it across the room.

What he wanted her to do couldn’t be more obvious.  

She held out until bedtime, and then she took a perfect, juicy bite.

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[sharris8]

@lokisgoodgirl​  Wait wait wait though!! 😂 So, there’s this story by misreall called Loki and Nora’s Infinity Stone Playlist. Loki has been bespelled and punished to take the appearance of a unfortunate looking human man name Eddie Rasmussen 😭 Eddie is balding, chunky, short, sweaty and hairy (except for his head) and now I can’t help but see Eddie as this disguise Loki choose for this assignment 😂😭

Highland Fling [Avenger!/Kilted! Loki x Fem. Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (7) An insufferably smug Kilted! Loki has a convenient history with the mission location, a scottish castle. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smuttish. "Friends" w/ benefits. Kilted! Loki. Jealousy. Humour. (w/c 3.6k)

How you had let yourself go along with this idiotic plan was beyond you. A scouting mission to a wedding in the highlands of Scotland with only Loki Laufeyson for company. But Rogers had been insistent. The last hour had passed quietly as you prepped in one of the castle bedooms, changing into a simple swing dress that was definitely not red.

Rolling mountains were visible outside a small window cut into original brick, fog wafting over the rusted mossy landscape. “You have other lovers, Agent... or only me?” Loki drawled smugly while straightening his cravat, spoken as casually as asking you to pass the salt.

Steam from the curling iron stung your eyes as you tried not to let your expression change in the mirror, eyes flickering to him stalking over from the four poster bed. Loki’s reflection took up top to toe of the ornate mirror, a tweed waistcoat and jacket snug to his torso. Muted green, of course. A kilt hung perfectly from his natural waist, the thick apron at the front making a flat expanse over his thighs. The pleated sides swung beautifully as he paced towards you, heavy wool held in place by leather straps and buckles tight to his hips. He adjusted a black sporran hanging over his crotch, the leather detail catching your eye. Intricate metal ornaments set against the black rabbit fur clunked as he spread his legs, the dark green and grey tartan looking unreasonably delicious falling over his thighs. Loki’s lashes fanned against his skin as he lowered his chin, smoothing the rough waves of his hair behind his ears. The wedding party was of an old scots clan, so only a traditionally extravagant show of their heritage would do. Every man would be wearing full kilt regalia. But none, you suspected, would look as incredibly panty-wetting as Loki. “Yes, actually.” you lied, running your eyes casually over his muscular frame, wrapped in woven wool. His carved knees were visible at the hem of the kilt. Just the sight of them made you want to sink to your own. “Just, one...you know other...um-” “Lover.” he purred seductively, enjoying the brief furrow of your brow. You released the curl you’d been holding, shaking it out and setting the iron down. “Yeah...lover, yeah. He’s good. He’s uh...nice.” You could feel your heart beat faster as Loki’s chest pressed against your shoulder-blades, the scratch of tweed nipping your bare back. “How tiresome, I’m am sorry.” he murmured condescendingly, twisting your fresh curl around one long finger. You swatted the hand away with a tsk, rummaging in the small make-up bag sitting on the bed-side table. Your mouth felt dry, the deception making your cheeks heat. You swallowed, turning back to the mirror non-nonchalantly. “What about you?” Why did you ask him that, you fucking buffoon? It’s Loki. He’s got a fucking waiting list.

A sly smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “What do you think?” he said, the implication unmistakably clear.

You let your eyes fall back to your own reflection, inspecting your make-up. “Oh I’m sorry, I thought we were having an actual conversation for once.” you said, tilting your chin as you pressed your eyelashes back. “We have conversations all the time Agent, ‘tis hardly my fault they irritate you so.” You sighed, realising victory was a lost cause. There was a churning in your stomach. “I have a bad feeling about this, Loki.” you murmured, scanning your reflection. He chuckled softly. You could hear his dexterous fingers toying with the buckles at his hips. His warm breath ghosted the bare skin of your shoulders. “All we need to do is assess whether the best man is still in league with Hydra. The signs will be obvious.” Loki took a step back, a flash of green in his raised hand drawing your attention.

A buttonhole appeared, a simple thistle with a ribbon of green and gold wrapped intricately around the stem. He continued to speak as he fastened it to his breast, the tilt of his jawline and the concentration on his face making gratuitous wetness gather in your underwear. “If he is, we can use his connection to our advantage. You are a family friend of the wedding party, a normal and understandable guest. And I…” he stepped backwards, the buttonhole in place, drawing his hands upward from his groin to his chest. “Am your delightfully plain yet devoted boyfriend, Edgar.” “Edgar? Christ.” you murmured dryly before you turned towards him, narrowing your eyes. “You look the same.” How is it possible, you thought as a shiver of desire rolled up your spine, that he is more attractive than his own reflection. Now that you were facing him, the scent of his cologne wafted in tendrils up your nostrils, memories of him fucking you slowly over an earth-shattering orgasm filling your head. That cologne. I didn’t change my sheets for days, you remembered; stomach flipping. “Ah...yes.” he purred slowly, amusement sparking as he registered the glaze in your eyes. “Well everyone else shall see my illusion, but I thought I would leave my true form on display for your eyes only. I know you love to stare when you think I’m not looking so at least this way, our ruse that you are attracted to Edgar will have some semblance of realism.” The spell was broken. Your mouth fell ajar, speechless at his audacity. He was right. But that wasn’t the point. You frowned, concern growing as Loki began to smirk. “Why would I not be attracted to Edgar?” His gaze crawled down your body and back to your piercing stare. “Poor Edgar is rather punching above his weight class, Agent.” You whined in frustration, harshly tugging the lapel of his jacket. “Make him hot, Loki please...come on. Don’t be a dick this one time.This isn’t funny, people I haven’t seen in years are at this wedding.”

“I cannot I’m afraid.” Loki sighed, creases at the corner of his eyes betraying his mirth. ‘Bland and inconspicuous’ were Rogers exact words. And darling, nothing is more inconspicuous than a paunch and a bald spot.”

“A bald…” you trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut with a sharp intake of breath. He was trying to get a rise out of you, and you wouldn’t let him. “I hate you.” you scoffed flippantly, twirling the lipstick between your fingers as you turned toward the mirror. You leant forward, feeling his eyes burning into your reflection. Pressing your newly coated lips together, your gaze flickered up where Loki stood in his signature power stance. His arms were crossed, chin tucked to the cravat rising from his waistcoat as he observed you flip the lid back on the golden tube with a click. “Let’s try that again. Once more with feeling, Agent.” he murmured, swiping a strand of hair back from your collarbone. “Make me believe it.” Loki’s fingertips trailed the delicate skin, lingering a moment too long to be anything less than an act of war. Reluctantly, you turned your eyes up to meet his smoulder in the reflection, resisting the urge push your ass back onto the sporran. “I hate you.” you said, red lipstick punching every syllable. “That’s better.” he smirked. “Now let’s go and pretend to be in love...shall we?”

It felt odd, having Loki – or Edgar -be nice to you. Affectionate, even. Without a hint of innuendo or snideness. Edgar followed you diligently around the room as you greeted old friends, and you surmised pretty quickly that Loki had undersold just how far Edgar was punching above his weight. During one conversation, Loki’s large palm had slid unexpectedly up your cheek and coaxed you into a soft kiss. His tongue had played at the parting of your lips, pressure building and ebbing as he massaged them with his own. “I’ll be right back...darling.” he whispered softly.

He was gone before you realised your eyes were still closed. “He seems...sweet.” an old acquaintance cooed as your pretend boyfriend skulked to fetch another round of free wine. “He is.” you lied, still processing the kiss as you noted the bemusement in her eyes. She looked from you to Edgar, bumbling around the drinks table. “What does he do again?” she asked politely, draining her glass. “Oh, erm...he’s an accountant.” you replied, noting her eyes glaze over. If she knew that he’s actually the fittest man she’d ever see in her life who happens to be a sex god...and an actual god, she’d cream herself with jealousy; you thought wistfully. Your stare was drawn irrevocably back to Loki, holding up each pre-poured glass to inspect it in the light. His long arms bulged beneath the restraint of the tweed jacket, his perfectly fitted kilt swaying with classical eroticism. The line of his calves tightened beneath thick knee-high socks, traditional laces winding up his muscles. Suddenly Loki knelt down on one knee, brushing the kilt up. His thumb and forefinger gripped the muscle, the taut skin of his thigh coming into view before he readjusted the laces at his ankle.For the first time, you noticed a ceremonial sgian-dubh dagger tucked in those stupid socks. Maybe I’ll let him use it on me later, you thought; remembering with a snap that you were in company. Or maybe he won’t ask first.

Loki’s chin tilted towards you, fluttering his eyes upwards to meet yours. He winked.

You felt saliva pool beneath your tongue before you swallowed, turning back to the woman with a manufactured smile. “I think it’s great you’re so into him. He must be a really nice guy.” the woman said, her saccharine lilt making you wince. It was going to be a long night.

Hours later, after the speeches and the meal; you conceded that Loki had officially run out of ways to irritate the everloving fuck out of you. He had spent the entire dinner turning every conversation at the table toward the nuances of asset depreciation and the politics of taxable turnover. Now that they were no longer obligated to stay, everyone at your table of ten had left. “It’s just my personality, darling.” Loki said knowingly under his breath, as you watched the last person splutter their excuses and make a beeline for the bar. “Mischievous?” you huffed through a fake smile, giving the deserter an apologetic wave goodbye. “I find it hard to believe you’re naturally this much of an asshole.” “But you seem to like it so much, Agent.” he grinned, fiddling with a crumpled napkin on the table as his eyes fell briefly to your cleavage. You pursed your lips, scanning the room. “This is a total bust, there’s no hint of Hydra security anywhere. Best man is a dead end.” you murmured, landing back on Loki. “Well, it was a longshot.” he whispered seductively, his fingers dancing over the table to where yours sat. They clasped around your hand, toying affectionately with your rings before raising them to his lips. Turns out, he was actually pretty good at this whole acting thing; but then, you shouldn’t have been surprised. “Perhaps Rogers was misinformed on the lead.” he murmured against your skin.

You let out a staggered breath as memories of the earlier kiss blossomed in your mind. He’s not going to kiss you, no one’s watching, you thought as his blue eyes sparked into yours, the gold specks decorating his irises flickering in the candlelight. You shook your head. “-...like that little quip about charity.” you sniped, yanking your hand away. “No-one’s naturally that much of a dick.” “Are we still talking about that? Agent, that was weeks ago.” he huffed, reaching for the untouched wine in front of him. Silence reigned between you as he drummed his fingers on the table, looking towards the dancefloor before his gaze swung back. “And why did it bother you so much?” “Are you…” you lowered your voice to a hiss, placing a finger on your temple as you leant toward him on the table. “Are you serious? You pretty much said I’m a pity fuck. That’s low, even for you.” There was silence as you both stared ahead. You looked at Loki from the corner of your eye, feeling a wave of renewed anger as a tepid smirk tugged at his lips. “If I was Nat I’d have smashed a bottle over your head.” Loki’s eyes flashed as he turned; smelling prey. “You are every bit as ferocious as Ms Romanoff, Agent...so why didn’t you?” Your stare hardened further. “Because firstly, I don’t want my boss to know who I’m fucking and secondly, I don’t want him to know I’m fucking you.” “Ah.” Loki hummed thoughtfully, biting away a grin. “And there we have it. You’re ashamed of your growing feelings for me. Reason, at last.” “Oh my god, you are fucking unbel-”

“Darling...eh-he-he...oh, delightful...delightful joke…” Loki patted your leg, letting out a chiming laugh while several guests passed behind your seats. He leant forward, tightening his grip on your thigh. You clenched, his firm squeeze filling your head with filth. Loki’s hand slid upward, the rustling of your dress giving way to his touch making you breathe faster. His nose grazed your ear. “You’re forgetting yourself, Agent." he chided. "Concentrate.” The god’s lips brushed your cheek as he released an innocent breath that sounded almost like a moan before returning upright in his chair. He was smirking, naturally. “Edgar could be an asshole, they don’t know” you shrugged, crossing your legs. You could feel the arousal you had been fighting sliding between your thighs as you reached for your drink, before slumping back in the chair. “I think Edgar and I will be calling it quits, actually.” “Edgar is not an arsehole, darling. He is a fine, if rather...unfortunate looking, fellow. And you’re lucky to have him.” Loki said calmly, enjoying the view of your glare from his peripheral vision as he sipped his wine. He set it down with a theatrical sigh. “Besides, this might be a perfect opportunity for you to confront your prejudice toward me.” Your eyes widened. “Excuse me?” “Charity.” he said, as if it explained everything. Your felt your heart beat faster, stirrings of a memory you couldn’t yet place. Your brows knitted together. “Yes? And?” The blue of his eyes darkened in the low light from the antique candle centrepieces as he leant closer, his eyelids cast down before they fluttered innocently upward. “Does the mortal child looking for a marrow donor not ring a bell in that pretty head of yours?” Your stomach dropped, suddenly remembering how he had stepped in at the eleventh hour to help with the nationwide campaign to find a donor at your reluctant request. Apparently, he was a big draw for female demographics aged 18-45. ‘Could you be her hero? Remember, not all heroes...wear leather’. Fuck, you’d hated that line. You felt your core flutter at the memory of watching him make love to the camera, his chiselled face set in a rare, wide-eyed sincerity as he wrapped in one take. “I thought not. How quick you humans are to seek the conclusion you wish to find.” Loki’s smug glee was palpable. You spluttered, your mind whirring. “But...the way you said it.” “With my voice?” he intonated, laden with sarcasm. “The assumption that I was referencing our trysts? That was created...here.” he tapped your forehead lightly with one long finger. You scoffed, grabbing your clutch. “Your witchy mindfucks won’t work on me, Laufeyson.” you hissed, pushing up from the chair. “Is that right?” he said, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “Yes.” you spat, taking a step towards the door before Loki grabbed your wrist. “Let me escort you, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves with a scene.” He scanned the room. People were making their way to the dancefloor as the party began, shards of mirrorball light bouncing against the chunky ancient stone brickwork. With a grimace, you conceded he was probably right.

You tugged your arm from his grip. “Fine.” you said, waiting for him to stand. God, I’d forgotten about the kilt, you thought; as it swung into view. The flat apron of tartan at the front creased, the unstoppable bulge of his cock flashing momentarily against the thick fabric. That wool has like...layers, you thought, bamboozled by the ridiculousness of his anatomy. “Come.” he muttered, jutting his arm. You slid your own around it, making your way together to the heavy doors. The music grew fainter as Loki walked purposefully through a series of winding corridors, medieval style torches hanging from the brickwork flooding the small spaces with an orange glow. “Where are we going? I don’t think we’re supposed to be here...” you murmured, your head swirling with sensory overload in the flickering gloom as Loki squeezed your fingers around his bicep. “I want to show you something…” he whispered, as a dripping sounded from the stretching darkness beyond. You were acutely aware of every click of your heels underfoot breaking the silence. He led you deeper away from the modernised area of the castle, the stone wall beneath your fingertips feeling moist as you trailed along it. You and Loki side-by-side took up the entire passage, a sliver of ebbing light appearing from around an upcoming turn. “Is your cock pierced again- is that why you’re making such a fuss?” you blurted with a need to fill the intimate, crushing silence. Loki’s low chuckle echoed. “You liked that, didn't you Agent? I could tell.”

You were suddenly glad for the darkness, feeling your cheeks flush. Turning the corner, you gasped as an old chapel room came into view, a window cut into the high wall sending a single beam of dust-filled light across the floor. Stern arches raised on either side of the walls, a stale musk of history heavy in the air. As you stared up at the vaulted ceiling, you felt Loki’s arms slide around your waist from behind. “I was almost wed in this chapel once.” he murmured coyly, releasing a groan into your ear on the exhale. He rubbed his cheekbone possessively against your temple, his voice deepening. “What are the chances?” “Wed? Wha-” “Hush, Agent.” he purred, spinning you to face him. You stared up at his insufferably perfect face, the sharp features carved like marble; set for a scene which had clearly already been decided. You shivered, rough brickwork scratching your skin as he nudged you backward. “You already know that I have enjoyed occasional Midgardian dalliances, throughout my lifetime” he hummed, trailing his knuckles down your neck. “Sex and violence are so much more potent, within this realm. So...raw.” “And motorcross…” you gasped, shrugging his tweed jacket over his biceps and casting it to the ground. You popped the buttons of his waistcoat, as he chuckled; letting it slide away. “Indeed” he purred, pushing you back against the wall before untying the cravat from his neck and tossing it aside. Loki un-tucked his shirt from the kilt waistband, before gracefully fingering the buttons and letting it join the pile of discarded clothing on the bricks below. Only the kilt remained. He placed a palm flat against the wall behind you, inhaling dramatically against the skin of your neck. A whimper snuck past your lips as you felt the lustful god buck against you, his chiselled torso flat against your fragile body.

“I spent some time here in the mid-1700s. There was mischief afoot amongst the Scots which I felt obliged to...encourage.” he hummed, playing with the shoulder of your dress. You frowned. “Are you talking about the Jacobites?” Loki chuckled, placing a sucking bite against your skin before answering. “Indeed. Norns, I haven’t heard that stupid name in a long time.” His forefinger caressed the hollow of your neck, making you tilt your chin upward with a moan. “Loki…we shouldn't-” you whispered, as your fingers combed his hair back, tugging gently. “-It’s all a bit dull, really.” he continued, as your palms slid down his shoulders and over his chest. “I was caught ravishing the clan leader’s daughter. Against this very wall, in fact." He bit his lip, running his eyes ravenously down your keening body. "She was howling my name with such enthusiasm the entire warrior guard kicked down that door ready for slaughter, axes in hand. Naturally, her father tried to marry us on the spot.”

Your mind spasmed, thinking of Loki rutting into another woman as she came against this stone three hundred years ago. “Needless to say...events did not fall in their favour.” Loki hummed, his knuckles trailing appraisingly over the dent of your cheekbone. He really is a timeless wanker, you thought; realising your hand had begun to palm his engorged cock beneath the kilt.

The god’s fingers curled around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Does it arouse you, thinking of me with another?” he groaned, rocking against your hand. “She’s dead.” you gasped, feeling him grow thicker beneath your touch. “Mmm...it’s still possible to be jealous of a dead lover, Agent. Would you like the chance to best her? She was rather memorable.” You gathered a clutch of thick wool containing his throbbing girth in a tight fist, squeezing harder than you ever had in your life. "I can't stand you Loki, I don't care who you fuck now...never mind hundreds of years ago." Loki hissed above you, shoulders rolling back, his mouth falling open. “Ahhhh” he gasped, eyelids fluttering shut as you doubled down. “If you are trying to make me suffer, Agent...I must confess, that is not the way to do it.” “So you’re a true Scotsman tonight, huh?” you goaded, raising an eyebrow as you tugged the rough wool covering his cock. “At least...in one respect. If lacking in others. I guess that’s something.” Snideness coloured your words, enjoying the twisting of his eyebrows as he searched for the insult beneath his pleasure. There was no hint of underwear beneath the garment as Loki flinched, his knees beginning to buckle as you roughly jacked him against the fabric. “Oh, Agent” he hummed, fingernails scraping against the wall behind you as his eyes rolled back. Loki let out a single animalistic grunt, before swatting your wrist away from its grip. He had found the insult.

His fingers wrapped around your forearm, suddenly pulling you across the chapel floor towards an imposing stone staircase in the corner. A thin rope stretched across the opening, a worn sign hanging lamely in the middle before he tore it aside. Battlements, it read. You gasped as the world upended. Loki had thrown you over his shoulder. With arms hanging by his ass, you watched the kilt swing methodically as your half-hearted cries of protestation choked the air, blood thundering in your ears. You felt rough layers of clothing manifest over his bare torso as you squirmed, the tartan changing in waves beneath your palms as he bounded up the rough-cut stairs two at a time.

“Tonight you’ll see just how much of a true Scotsman I can be.” he muttered darkly, before kicking the heavy door at the top of the staircase wide to the night air with a shuddering thud.

Continued in Highland Fling - The Battlements Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags

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[bradypnoea]

Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist | nildespirandum | 31 Works - 327k | Ongoing - Apr ‘21

The ongoing story of a customer service manager. And Loki.

Note: (The Great Wait ends tonight! The reports from the creative team seem very promising; fingers crossed that MCU overlords allow this story the autonomy it deserves. I'm sure the reaction to every episode will be absolutely bonkers and especially so for the premiere, so I hope everyone stays safe in their corner of the web. The block button is your friend!) 'Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist' began in June 2016 with a bit of romantic comedy in 'Hel Is Being Other People' and has since expanded into nearly every scenario you might expect Loki to fall in. Nildespirandum (a.k.a. Misreall on AO3) once again creates an expansive and comprehensive universe that visits both familiar and unfamiliar locations, and has populated it with a range of vibrant characters. Expect adventure, deception, sex, magic, violence, heartbreak, indignation, and love that spans galaxies.

- Masterlist on Author's Tumblr | @nildespirandum | Series on AO3 -

The Old King looked smaller to the guard.

Not small, but smaller. As if he were if not a man, but a great monument to a man that had lost some of its finer details. Not worn down by time, but broken off by, say, toppling over after losing the thing that had propped it up.

Or maybe it was he did just look like a man for the first time, not a monument at all.

A man sitting in a ruined, cold hall, on a broken throne, with no one around.

The guard gave a low bow, and reported to the King. His elder son was still at large, but his younger son’s body had been found on the dead planet of their enemy. His icy corpse had been frozen to the ground and they had not been able to bring him home for burial. Yet. After their enemies were vanquished there would be time to-

The King silenced him with a small gesture. A flick of his fingers from the hand that covered his red, raw eyes from the sight of his inferiors. From everyone.

The guard bowed again and turned to leave his lord to his private (and surprising) new grief.

He had almost made it to the great iron doors of the throne room when his father’s voice, a whisper that could be heard in the vaults of heaven, said, “Loki.”

He stopped and turned back, “Loki is gone, All-Father.”

Odin may have been diminished and even broken. But a broken sword is just as dangerous as a whole one, if thrust hard enough. In a few steps he was nose to nose with the man dressed as a royal guard. “Even if you think me weak, even if you think I do not love you well enough to know you anywhere my child, do you really think I am so blind as to not know that imperious stride of yours anywhere? My son?”

Continue reading on AO3...

[lilhawkeye3]

I want to spread some positivity and support for my fellow fanfic writers!

If you comment or send me an ask with an author’s @ or one of their specific stories, I’ll go read and reblog it! No limit on content or fandom (if it is nsfw I’ll reblog it on @lilhawkeyeiii but still list the authors below)

But yeah! Let me know some of your favorite authors and fics and I’ll start my binge reading session🥰💕

I’ll list all recs below the cut!

STAR WARS - Sunburst Squadron, Boba Fett, & Ezra content by @jangofctts

STAR WARS - “When We Were Young” by @tired-tatum at https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829340/chapters/65455402

STAR WARS - Commander Bacara: “Invideo” by @chewychewyque

STAR WARS - Darth Maul x OC content by @spookiifi

STAR WARS - Obi-Wan x Padmé: “Come What May” by @labyrinth-runner

STAR WARS - Anakin & Ahsoka: “Coruscanti Regency” by @djemsowhat

KNIVES OUT - Ransom Drysdale: “The Highest Bidder” by @pagesoflauren

MCU - Loki and Nora: “Infinity Stone Playlist” by @nildespirandum

MCU - Steve Rogers: “The One Thing You Can’t See” by @myoxisbroken

MULTI-FANDOM - MCU, Doctor Who, and Pedro Pascal fics by @myoxisbroken

MULTI-FANDOM - Henry Cavill, Pedro Pascal, & Tom Hiddleston fics by @yespolkadotkitty

MULTI-FANDOM - Animorphs and the Magnus Archives: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derin/works

NIGHT MANAGER - Jonathan Pine: “Everyone Has a Vice, Pine. What is Yours?” by @caffiend-queen

TOM HIDDLESTON - fics by @winterisakillerwrites

[nildespirandum]

Friends to lovers who work together.

Huh.

tag your results!

[joyfullymassivewhispers]

@nildespirandum I have successfully avoid all sort of miserable chores and reality in general as I reread Loki and Nora’s Infinity Stone Playlist. It is one of my comfort reads - I do adore your Loki. I had to stop and post because I forgot that Odin rolled his eyes at Loki, Loki feigns offense and Odin grumbles that Loki could make a painting roll it’s eyes, brilliant! I laughed like an idiot and think that line alone sums up why I love your Loki, besides him being oh so beautiful. Thank you for a very wonderful afternoon!! You are simply the best!

If you are a Loki fan and you haven’t read this you must!

https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/series/520786

[just-the-hiddles]

Writer’s Spotlight | Nildespirandum

This week I am spotlighting one of my favorite writers, @nildespirandum​!  She is the Adam writer that made me both scared and brave enough to write Adam myself.  She is the weaver of worlds, the creator of characters so real you think they are sitting next to you.  Smart, funny, and an amazing writer!

Catch all of Nildespirandum’s stories here.

What other names do you want people to call you?

I use Misreall on AO3.

How long have you been writing fic?

I am on this current round for about four years, but I did write before though that was a decade ago.

What fandoms and/or ships do you write?

Tom Hiddleston characters, though not RPF.  Primarily Loki, but I have written for Thomas Sharpe, Adam from Only Lovers Left Alive, and Conrad from Kong: Skull Island.  For all of them I have written OFCs.

How did you get started writing fic?

I had ideas for a fics for a while, but it wasn't until I started commenting and then talking to @caffiend-queen that I decided it was time to do something about it.

Story Recommendations

Which of your stories are your favorite?

I hate this question, but if I had to pick it would be the cycle of stories called Loki and Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist, both because it is my first, and because I think the relationship between the characters - not just Loki and Nora, but the cast that has build up around them - allows me to tell so many tales.

Which story are you most proud of?

Either Perfection - my Crimson Peak AU, or Reigning in Hel - A JotunLoki series.

Which of your stories do you think is the most underrated?

Probably At Hel's Edge, which is a historical mash-up of MCU Loki, with MythLoki.  The people who read it loved, it but it never found much of an audience.  Possibly because of the style I wrote it in, or maybe because the MCULoki character was a bit abstract from his origin.  But I am very, very lucky that it is getting a second life as a Webtoon drawn by @rauko-art, who is incredibly gifted and has worked so hard to make something really beautiful.

Someone is new to reading your stories, which story/stories should they read first?

For Loki, the Infinity Stone Playlist.  Otherwise, maybe Perfection.

Which story did you do the most research for?

Perfection.  I can tell you how much a yard of silk cost in 1910, both in England and the US.  

Which story was the easiest to write?

Probably my Incubus Loki first series.  It was so over the top and goofy that it was effortless.  Rapacity - my vampire Loki story - is also quite easy.  There may be a trend here.

The Writing Process

What is your favorite part of writing?

To quote Dorothy Parker, "I hate writing, but I love having written."  With that said, I love the moment when I am lost in the process, and the characters are narrating and I am taking dictation.  

What is your least favorite part?

Editing, which is probably why I hardly ever do it.  That said, I am fine editing other people's work.  

Describe your style in 1 to 2 sentences.

Breezily conversational when it isn't breaking your heart.

Who are some of your writing idols and/or influences?

I don't have time, and you certainly wouldn't have the patience, for my full list but a few key choices are Jane Austen, Anthony Bourdain, Ian Shoales, Alexander Dumas, the Brothers Grimm, Neil Gaiman, Louisa May Alcott, Balzac, Mary Roach, Bebe Moore Campbell, Douglas Adams.  But all of that said it was probably Howard Pyle, the D'aulaires, Zilpha Keatley Snyder, Winifred Madison, and Ruth Chew whose books I read over and over to the point of them falling apart are probably the writers who made me, not only on the page, but in life.

What programs do you use to write and/or edit?

I do all of my writing and editing in Google docs.   I'm a Luddite at heart.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A pantser.  I might have some of a story in mind when I start, but usually I start with an image and let fly.  The entirety of my Bottom of the Hourglass story came from my seeing a folded bookcase leaning against a basement door.

Do you write RPF or not?

Years ago I wrote an RPF as a gift for a friend. For the future, I never say never.

Who is your favorite character to write and why?

Loki.  Loki is the gift that keeps on giving.  While I could flippantly say that all of that emotional and mental trauma is fic writer catnip - and I wouldn't be lying - there is so much more.  He is a character of such wit and imagination, powerful, funny, wise, and a complete idiot.  The Trickster is such brilliant architype, playing both sides of the fence, fooling and being fooled, capable of great good and true evil.  He is vastly entertaining, and achingly sympathetic.  I can go on, but I will spare you.

What do you think are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, for one.  I am proud that if you read the dialogue alone from my stories you can tell who each character is, that they all have a distinct voice.

What do you struggle with?

Plot.  I get so very bored with plot.  

Favorite Trope?

That's like being asked to pick a favorite anything, I can't do it.  Ok, fine, enemies to lovers.

Favorite word to use?

Delightful.  Or Really.

What is the best piece of writing advice you have heard?

Make time for your writing.  Even when you think you can't.

What would you say to a new fanfic writer starting out?

Don't be afraid, don't shrink and hide and diminish yourself, you have to be your own first, best audience.  Also, always remember, art doesn't apologize and neither should you, as long as you feel you have given the best you can at any given time - which will not always be the same, EVERYONE has off days - then be proud of having written, of having added to the world.

What is a random bit of research you have not managed to work into a fic yet?

I did so much research on boats and ship to ship combat for my pirate story that I will never use all of it.  Generally I am pretty efficient with my research, mostly because I already have a brainful of useless knowledge that I am still trying to make pay off.

What is your favorite random detail from one of your stories?

I love that in the later Infinity Stone Playlist stories Loki's various lounging robes have magical pockets that always produce cookies.  

Any goals or WIPs you want to share?

I am determined to finish both The Frost Queen and The Tales of the Golden Horn this spring, and I have decided I am going to commit to the sequel to Perfection about Thomas and Alice's grandson that I have had in mind since I finished their story.

This or That

Fluff AND Angst

Smut AND Fluff

Reader or OC

One shot or Series

Canon Divergent AND AU

Coffee or Tea

Sweet or Savory

Anything else you want to say or share? 

There is a tendency in fandom these days to see things that do not have a moral dimension as being good or bad, to only look at the most extreme edges of things and pass judgement on the whole.  Life is hard enough, let people enjoy things.  

Until next week!

[nildespirandum]

Loki does not believe in subtlety.  Or know what it is, for that matter.

18+ for certain.  

Chapter 2: Five Golden Rings, Four Calling Birds, A French Hen with Two Roosters, Two Turtle Doves, A Partridge in a Pear Tree, a Jotun with Horns, and a Really Big Snake.

The garden was beautiful, like a grove, thick with flowering fruit and spice trees, making each warm breeze rich, nearly intoxicating with scents in addition to certain, familiar glowing blue flowers from Vanaheim and abundant, fragrant rose bushes.  Here and their arbors were twined with jasmine, honeysuckle, and hops that made Nora feel gently sleepy even within the dream. Under her feet greenery was soft and thick like cushions and the sky that could be seen between boughs and leaves was in a sky that seemed locked in the softly ambient light of false dawn.

She stretched upwards and plucked a flower, tucking it behind her ear.  Her body felt good. Really good for the first time in a while, because nothing hurt.  Nothing was stiff. No nagging, weird thing with her back that made her hobble around some mornings, no clicking sound in her knee from that time they’d had to run from that flock of icefire-breathing chickens on Iyo and she’d stepped wrong.  Even Loki’s magic hadn’t been able to help with that. Feeling no pain where pain normally was, was so damned good. Not even the nagging ache in her breastbone that she never, EVER mentioned.  

So was being outside - or inside, but an outside kind of inside - naked. Feeling fresh, soft air everywhere.  Who could remember the last time they’d been off of Loki’s damned boat? She looked down at her body, which looked like it did when she first met Loki, not as it did at her current age.  It looked like it always looked in her head.

After walking for a bit, enjoying the pleasure of nothing hurting, Nora noticed that she was actually on a kind of path, a subtle indent in the ground that her feet noticed but was invisible to her eye.  It formed a lazy kind of spiral, slowly making its way to the center of the garden.

There, in a small clearing, a massive, ancient pear tree took pride of place, heavy with fruit, with a familiar bird gently teetering, much more pleasantly than it had in her bedroom.

Also, coiled around the truck and then hanging in loops from one of the heavier branches, was a serpent with the markings of a black and green mamba but the size of an especially large python.  

Nora snorted to herself softly.  Mambas never grew much over eight feet, and certainly never close to twenty.  

She had learned rather a lot about snakes over the last twenty years.

It raised its head and blinked lazily at her, “Welcome, treasure,” it hissed out in Loki’s dark, provocative voice.

Nora stepped closer, now plucking another pear.  Unlike the one in the big pot by her bed, this one was deep red, in fact nearly purple, and rather large.  “You’ve never been very good at dreamwalking. Or so you’ve told me. I guess all you needed was the inspiration of getting around those wards and getting to me anyway, hmm?” she asked, raising the fruit to her nose.  

It smelled wonderful.  

Ignoring her question, Loki moved the length of his serpent's body slowly downward, “Did you know that there are scholars who contend that the forbidden fruit of Eden was a pear, not an apple?”  His immense form gilded and slithered and glissaded down the rough trunk and through the undergrowth towards her, his great weight crushing it and sending up a heady scent of greenery and herbs. Before her he rose up, green slit eyes meeting hers, long fangs glittering with venom, his form undulating hypnotically.

“I thought that was figs?” she answered and took a bite, knowing what was coming and still being shocked.  The arousal coiled and slithered through her blood, slow and crushing any resistance.

She was so sick of fighting with him, of fighting his fears and his need to protect her from … everything.  She needed a break from it and to come home and now that he’d still found a way to get to her she was letting him have his way again.

The nectar trickled sweetly down her throat and stickily down her chin and neck and down her chest.  She took another bite. It had the perfect contrast of firm, resistant skin and then the reward of soft, yielding flesh beneath.

While she ate he coiled his body around and about her.  Thick scales rasped up her legs and around her torso, teasing and tickling her places where it was not normal to enjoy having a snake, even if married to a shapechanger.  As it was it felt good, to be scratched and then soothed by the smooth texture of the scales in moving in either direction.  

A breathy noise and a small moan encouraged him and he tightened and slithered and just as slowly transformed and soon Nora was laying in a bower of flowers, tightly wrapped in Loki’s long arms and legs, warm, her nipples gently being lapped clean by a still forked tongue as he worked his way downwards.  Barely managing to lift her head, Nora watched him settle between her legs, “This has never been the problem. Your seducing me, no matter how elaborate the setup … uhhh…” she moaned as he dragged his still snake-like fangs tenderly down her belly, “but … BUT it doesn’t change anything.”

He smiled, “Go to sleep, my love.…”

“I’m already asleep.”

“Not enough.”  His fangs slowly sank into the inside of her right thigh, and because it was a dream it felt so good, the heat of his venom making her muscles go soft and her eyes close, so she drifted off.

   ************************************************************************

Stretching, Nora woke up in one of the most comfortable beds she’d ever been in.  Which was high praise. Rolling over, she realized two things.

She was very high up in that enormous pear tree.

In a nest.

Granted, it was a nest that was lined and pillowed with scraps of silk and velvet, woven of vines, satiny wood, and bits of downy feathers.  The kind of nest that the king of birds would weave for his queen.  

Speaking of which, she felt Loki wrap an arm around her hips, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades.  “Comfortable?”

Not rolling over, Nora lifted his wrist between two fingers, pushing his arm away.  He laughed and she could feel him shift onto his back. “Comfortable? You’re asking if I’m comfortable?  You high-jack my dreams - yeah, I ate the stupid pear so what was I supposed to expect? But still, and after a little serpent foreplay you are going to fuck me in the treetops and think that because of that I’ll forgive you and come back to the ship.”

“Not at all.  I want you to let me come home,” he said, his voice very soft.  “Nor did I plan to make love to you here. I have missed laying a-bed with you, simply talking.”

Now she rolled over, leaning over him, “Whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” he said, with no embellishments.

   ***********************************************************************

Immediately after Sakaar Loki had been fine.  The business on Asgard, then the work on his show, had been enough to keep him from thinking and thinking and then overthinking.  But it had come. Once things settled in and they had returned to Chicago, for he knew Nora would want to be there for a time, he had simply not slept.  His hypervigilant brain and abused nervous system had left him feeling as if even trying to sleep was worse than a night on the rack.

Something might happen, and he could sleep through it.

Eventually, Nora and her pet enchanted chain had taken care of that and Loki had slept for days, healing his worn body but giving his mind - which was still capable of scheming and plotting even whilst unconscious - a long opportunity to work out the problem.  

The problem being in Chicago, or anywhere else on one of the Realms, they were sitting ducks for his enemies.  Not that this was new information for him, of course, and not that his enemies had sought them out when Nora had been stabbed through her -

Enough!

Loki carefully flipped Nora onto her back, running a hand between her breasts, his fingertips tracing over the long, thin scar, which he then kissed reverently.  “Talk to me, wife. Tell me all of those things that I have not heard for the last months.”

“Years.”

“What?”

“It’s been more than months.  It’s been almost three years since Sakaar.  We haven’t been home for Christmas in -”

Loki stopped hearing her.  That could not be true. Three years in Nora’s meager mortal life was an endless time.  He knew his own sense of how the hours passed was different from hers but still -

She had to be mistaken, exaggerating.  To have kept her on the Naglikjóll for so long, for her to have allowed it, would be a terrible thing.

“- and I thought that eventually, you would be well enough to get past it, which was a mistake on my part.  Even you can only take so much-”

He couldn’t hear it.  He bent his head to touch his lips to hers, and with true love’s kiss put his princess back to sleep.

  ***************************************************************************

Nora was walking through a garden in the winter.  

Stalks of flowers, bushes, and the leafless branches of trees were black against the pale violet sky of a winter twilight and were festooned with icicles, soft snow, and frost.  Here and there shining green and red holly and vines of creamy white mistletoe added bits of color. Though her breath was slightly visible, she wasn’t cold, not even her bare cleavage and arms.

On her feet, delicate, embroidered shoes with tiny, curved heels moved easily over the crunching grass, and the panniers of her green velvet gown that dripped with silver lace, swayed effortlessly as if she had worn 18th-century ball gowns all of her life.  Even the wig, with one dark brown curl hanging down the front into her elegant decolletage, was perfectly comfortable.

Ahead of her, golden light glowed and she could hear music and voices, punctuated by an occasional laugh.

There was a clearing beside a brook that had frozen fast in mid-burble so the water looked like glass.  The ground was a thick sheet of ice, and on a dozen or more couples danced something like a minuet but also a waltz - all dressed for Versailles and gliding with effortless elegance rather than slipping and falling.

At the far end of the clearing a quartet made up of human-sized ravens played a harpsichord, a violin, a viola, and a flute played, quite beautifully and without the benefit of hands or lips.

Even though it was far from her type of music, Nora swayed in place, smiling.

“Were you aware that colly birds was the 18th-century term for blackbirds, mon petit poule?” Loki whispered from behind her.  His long fingers rested on her bare collarbone and then walked down to carefully lift the curl that rested on the small swell of her breast, which he kissed and then gently replaced.

He was speaking French and she understood it perfectly.  Her husband loved the details.

His black velvet brocade coat was knee length and trimmed with silver and matching buttons, with a matching long vest, and a fall of black satin at his throat, even the wide ribbon that held his hair in a long queue was black.  The heels of his shoes meant he was not merely much taller than she was, he positively loomed.

“Of course, everyone knows that,” she answered, turning towards him, raising one hand to take his so he could lead her onto the ice.

No one danced so gracefully on the ice as a Frost Giant.  They turned effortlessly in neat circles that grew wider, Loki not pulling her tight against him but rather keeping some space between them so her skirts could swish and dance as well. It was like flight without fear of falling and Nora laughed.  

From time to time he would spin her, holding her hand above her head so she moved in a pirouette, but at the end of the piece of music, he pulled her close and then thrust away so she spun away from his hand, still laughing, the crowd parting for her until she found herself effortlessly caught again by cold blue hands, stopping her just before she collided with a broad chest draped in black velvet with golden trim.

If Loki loomed, Sl��gt positively towered, and that was without his great, curved horns that glinted even in the pale light.  

Dressed exactly as Loki, save for the color of his trim and his hair - a curling mane that hung like a peruke down his long back - he took her now very small looking hand in his and led her into the next dance.  “Princess,” he rumbled down at her. “It’s been a while.”

It had been since Sakaar, where Loki had fully found his Jotunn side, and had run to embrace it and hide within in it so he need not face losing her.

After a few turns around the floor, where they were admired and gossiped about by the other dances, he moved so they were in the farthest corner, “Look up, girlie,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath a thrill of ice against her ear.

The tree that bowed over them - an icebound willow - was positively festooned with mistletoe.

“It’s a law,” he murmured.  

“And we know that you are all about following laws and rules and norms an-”

He cut her off with a kiss, gathering her into his arms, pulling her to his chest, his fists in the sackback of her gown, his hair brushing her skin like feathers.  Nora moaned into his mouth, her heat warming him, his coldness easing the burn left in her from the venom that seemed to still be raging.

When she reached up to tentatively stroke one of his horns he shuddered and held her tighter until her stays creaked, and she gasped for breath and fainted away in his arms, like a princess in a fairytale might.

  ***********************************************************************

The greenhouse within the garden was, of course, warm and beautiful and blah blah blah.  

All Nora could see was the bed in the middle of it, with iron posts on the four corners anchoring it to the ground so it wouldn’t move, and plain pine green silk sheets and cashmere blankets to show Loki’s skin to its best advantage.  Every inch of it was perfectly on display was he lay there, his eyes closed but clearly awake, his hair flowing like spilled paint across the pillows, arms twined above his head so hands rested limply about the bars of the headboard.

His cock bedecked for the holiday.  

Along its length were five golden cock rings.  Or rather, rings around his cock, since none of them were being used for the traditional keeping the dick hard purpose.  Loki’s divine trickster junk needed no help there. Rather, as Nora approached, climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him, she saw each one was shaped differently, with patterns and textures and some provocative bulges and recesses.

Across the length of his body their eyes met.  The poison green of his iris was nearly invisible, so vast and black was his pupil.  He started to speak, but then gave her a snake-like smile, closed his eyes, and let her worship him for a bit.  A treat she rarely was allowed, and even less rarely of late. For months and longer their love-life had felt to her like he was as much taking inventory as making love to her.

Two arms, two legs, two tits, all of the other parts, and still breathing.  Assuring himself that she was there rather than being with her.

They still needed to talk, but not just then.

Placing her fingers on the inside of his ankle, Nora cupped the bone there and then ran her hand up his calf, stopping to nuzzle and kiss where she touched, her cheek stroking the silken hair, her mouth sucking on the inside of his knee.

There was a metallic groan.  She grinned against his skin, her teeth skinning the flesh.  Loki was squeezing those bars for dear life. Her mouth continued up his thigh, while her hand lightly scratched its twin.

By the time she was caressing his balls with her lips, her hands tight on his hips, he was shaking from the effort he was clearly exerting.  Probably trying not to flip her over, to change places. “My poor prince … my poor little god…” she licked at him, just a few small laps with the very tip of her tongue, tasting the muskiness and salt of him, then teasing upwards, stroking now around the very base of his thick, painfully hard cock, where the first gold ring was cool and irregularly shaped.  

She had to carefully lift it a bit from where it rested against his torso, pausing for a moment to nose the line of hair from his navel on down.  It was one of her favorite things and often they would lay in bed together talking, her head on his chest, hearing that deafening, Jotunn heartbeat and petting him there.

He lifted his head again and watched as she straddled his thighs and explored each ring, seeing where they would touch inside of her, before lifting herself and then slowly lowering herself along them.

Used to Loki’s already large, wide girth Nora felt stretched and filled and for a few moments actually uncomfortable.  Putting his hands on her hips, he stroked the skin there and crooned, “Give yourself a minute, my love,” even as she felt his cock insistently throbbing within her, having other ideas that the being it was attached to.

With a determined noise, Nora began to rock back and forth.

Almost immediately the rings started to find the places within her that they were meant to tease and rub.  Already wet, the extra sensation made her a positive mess, her body quivering and flushed, and she started to move with no rhythm.  Everything felt good.  

Everything.

Juddering moans fell from her lips and Loki gave her that knowing snake smile that she usually wanted to punch off of his face, but she was too distracted, “Good?” he asked.

“Don’t,” she managed to say before the first orgasm shook free.

In the midst of the wave, he rolled her over, so he leaned up one arm, one of her legs slung over his shoulder so he could kiss the marks his fangs had left before, “No mockery, my treasure, my love, my only darling beloved…” his words turned into a chant as he started mumbling nonsense to her, overwhelmed as well.

Her second orgasm was sharp and made her back arch.

Her third was almost a surprise and made her spurt and flood the bed.

Her fourth was exhausting and left her little more than a thing Loki was fucking himself with.

Her fifth had her begging for mercy that he would not give as he came himself with a shout that only did not shatter the glass of the greenhouse because it was a dream.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  ***********************************************************************

Nora woke up alone, being squawked at by some very irritable geese.

Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist!

@caffiend-queen @myoxisbroken @joyfullymassivewhispers @dianamolloy @dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids @someillplanetreigns @piggledy-higgledy @catsladen @lokislastlove @yespolkadotkitty @is-it-madness  @ransoms-sweater-holes @mischiefmaker76 @evieplease @clove-pinks @nerdygirl203 @perksofeatingbacon @ladyacrasia @hopelessromanticspoonie @death-unbecomes-you @latent-thoughts @redfoxwritesstuff @emeraldrosequartz @servent-alearika @mariwild @alexakeyloveloki @rauko-art @reileth @lokiestorch @wrathkitty @lokiperfection @mfluderesq @wolfsmom1 @incurablyromanticsblog @pigilene @mdemontespan1667 @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @oddlymurderousplant @huntress-artemiss​ @arch-venus25​ @i-stand-with-loki​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @kikster606​ @gigglingtigger​ @indelen​ @mischief2sarawr​ @sylviefromneptune​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @sallymagnoliaposts​ @simone818283​ 

[nildespirandum]

I love this question. Loki has the most complicated orders possible, but he tips like a god and Nora is so friendly that the waitstaff wherever they go is fine with it. He also always know what Nora is going to order before she does.

OTP Question

Which one has the more complicated order at restaurants? Which one has the other’s order memorized?

[ao3feed-lokiangst]

Genius Loki

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35H1Qy3

by misreall

With his brother in need of a break from the throne of Asgard, Loki takes Thor to one of his former hiding locations, a bleak, isolated part of a forgotten planet that remembers Loki and wants something from him. It's up to his wife and brother to save him both this dying world and himself.

Words: 2827, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 32 of Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist

Fandoms: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Loki (TV 2021)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Nora

Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Sex, Oral Sex, Kissing, all sorts of kissing, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Penis In Vagina Sex, Incorporeal Sex, Animalistic, Magical Pregnancy, magical offspring, Identity confusion, Magic, Sex Magic, Light Bondage, general naughtiness, Camping, Fishing, Brotherly Bonding, Married Couple

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35H1Qy3

[ofstarsandvibranium]

I haven't seen a writer recognition post yet for @nildespirandum, so please forgive me if this is a repeat. I get excited whenever I see that she's updated a story or started a new one because I know it's going to be amazing! She brings a wicked sense of humor, gorgeous love scenes (and sometimes delectably filthy smut), twisty plots, and such creativity! Recommendations would be literally anything from her Loki and Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist or her Thomas Sharpe story Perfection.

Give a round of applause to @nildespirandum !

[emeraldrosequartz]

Boxed Wine - a new one-shot by EmeraldRosequartz

Inspired by “The Reluctant Bride” by @caffiend-queen and “Loki and Nora’s Infinity Stone Playlist” by @nildespirandum.

I am SO EXCITED about this new work! I’ve had crazy writer’s block for the last month, but knocking out this cute little tableau has really helped me move forward. And I get to honor/embarrass/prove my love to two of my favorite authors, @caffiend-queen and @nildespirandum. Enjoy!

Click here to read it, because you know you want to.

Here’s a little excerpt to tease you:

Thomas reached for the wine glass as it passed by on the waiter's tray. He was distracted...there were too many variables, too many openings. He continued to keep the conversation going with the men around him, smiling in that way that didn't reach his eyes. Cordial, perfectly charming...but beneath the mask of calm his mind was racing.

Where had Lauren gone? They'd entered together, but she got pulled away so quickly and unexpectedly...he should have known, should have prepared for that. Never mind that now - he hazarded a glance behind him, and caught just the flick of a green dress that appeared to be exactly the color of the one Lauren wore today. Grabbing the glass from the tray, he politely excused himself from the group and quickly beelined in pursuit.

Slowly rounding the corner, his cerulean eyes flashed across the room, barely seeing the glimmer of the emerald hem before she escaped through a doorway. Thomas pushed his way through the crowd and managed to get into the room - it was dark other than the light coming from the door. He felt around the wall, and quickly found the light switch. But when he turned the light on…

The gun was pointed straight between his eyes, and the woman at the other end was smirking at him. "Get in here, close the door." Her voice was soft and deep, but the edge of menace could not be missed.

Thomas steadily held the glass of wine as he kept his eyes locked on hers and complied with her request. "Are you Thomas Pine?" she asked, almost smugly. Before he answered, he looked her over - the dress was the same color, but not the same dress. The woman had long dark hair, almost black, but hints of brown could be seen in the light. And her vibrant blue eyes bored back into him.

"Yes," answered Thomas.

"Do you know what is in your hand?"

Thomas was...genuinely confused. That was not where he expected this line of questioning to go. He turned slightly to look at the glass of wine. "This? It's wine, I got it at the party."

"Do you KNOW what is in your HAND?" the woman growled again. Thomas remained silent. It was very possible the person he was dealing with was not of sound mind.

She huffed. "THAT is...BOXED WINE!"

Thomas' eyes went wide with dread. Boxed wine?! Here?! He immediately dropped the glass and jumped away, as though he had just been holding acid and didn't want it to get on his Manolo Blahniks. This was the Lanesborough...how on EARTH had he been served boxed wine?! If he had missed that...Lauren might be in more danger than he imagined. He looked up at the woman again, eyebrows peaked in anxiety for the briefest of moments, then back to the mess on the floor. Slowly, he forced himself to control his breathing and addressed the woman before he gaze traveled up her body. "Who are you?"

"I'm Rose," she said, winking and holstering the gun to her thigh. "And now that I hope you can trust me, we need to go get your wife."

@devilish--doll @wrathkitty @archy3001 @lovely----------------notlovely @ohhhmyloki @gingerwritess @dangertoozmanykids101 @myoxisbroken @moonfaery

[dangertoozmanykids101]

As @nildespirandum tagged this

"#loki and nora's infinity stone playlist"

EXACTLY!!!

yes, babe, you’re sick and twisted, will you come back to bed- what? yes, of course you’re evil and irredeemable. now can you please cuddle with me

[timetravellingshinigami]

Fanfic Recommendation!!

I reading a new Loki fic after a long time and This Loki x OFC story by Misreall is so freaking hilarious!!!! I put it in my list of 'fanfics that should be TV series.'

The above fic is part of 'Loki and Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist' and I am only on chapter 7 of the fic but I'm absolutely loving it. The main and side characters are so well written, The dialogues are epic and The writing!!! Uff perfection!!!

This particular line is hilarious-

.

Eddie here is also Loki btw. You NEED to read the fic 👌👌👌👌😃😃😃

[dangertoozmanykids101]

Look, it's Eddie.

I'm so easily entertained tonight. Found this guy thrown high up on a shelf.

If y'all haven't read Loki & Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist by Misreall over on AO3, y'all are missing out.

@nildespirandum @hurricanerin @dianamolloy @alexakeyloveloki @devikafernando @redfoxwritesstuff @nuggsmum @hallotom @haute-macabre

[dangertoozmanykids101]

I loved it! I totally agree!

Loki is still Loki no matter WHAT he's wearing!!!

Or not wearing.

And the tie!!! Look at it swing!

I adored Office!Loki. There are soooo many Loki stories to tell. Tom and his team just told THEIR Loki story.

@nildespirandum told an awesome Office!Loki story. See blue link below to Misreall on AO3. Welcome to the beginning of Loki and Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist. Yes. Surprise! It started in an office!!! Omg. This is one of the first fanfictions I read, and I was immediately hooked! I'm here today because of this fiction!! It's FUCKING BRILLIANT!!!

Hel Is Being Other People,

by Misreall on AO3, aka @nildespirandum on Tumblr

The power team of @latent-thoughts and @emeraldrosequartz have recently brought to us another twist on Office!Loki. This is a WIP that is still going strong. See blue link below for fic on AO3.

The Pursuit Of A Simple Life

i kind of love loki staying in the tva clothes the whole season because he starts out in this clean suit with his hair neatly combed back and as the season goes on he loses the jacket and gets more scrapes and dirt and bloodstains on the shirt and his hair gets messier it's just a really good visual reminder of what he's been through