#loki fanfic series

[smolvenger]

@evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @huntress-artemiss

[softiedingo]

ao3 as always saving lives 🤌🏻

[aritks]

I bet he was crying inside of happiness.

[theretr0skeleton]

Haven't uploaded here for a while whoops aha

[lokisgoodgirl]

Awful Things [TVA!Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Fresh off the interrogation, Loki is emboldened to make a move. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Heavy smut. Dom! Loki.Bondage, impact play. (w/c 2.8k)

You register your door pad beep through the clink of plates as you slide them into the sink. Strange, you think briefly. I didn’t think anyone else had the code.

Turning, you immediately collide with something hard and flat. But there was no mistaking the scent of him. “Loki!?” was all you could muster in shock, gripping the lip of your tiny kitchenette. “I brought you some pie,” he growls, punctuating the statement by tossing it to the counter beside you.

His bicep presses against your own, hard as rock through the thick jacket hanging open at his torso. Those eyes that you’d studied so often were darker now. Deeper, somehow.

Dangerous.

“Everything okay?” you squeak.

There’s an energy radiating from him, a heat that seems to charge the air. It hums like static. The intoxicating scent of him wafts from the open top of his shirt, tie askew like he’d yanked it loose on his way here.

You clench. “I just had a very...interesting experience” he rumbles, leaning towards you. His lips are an inch away from yours, tilting his chin upwards as he looms appraisingly. You realise you haven’t been breathing. “O...Oh?” you gasp, as he presses his body closer.

His chin lies nestled to his collarbone, the popped collar of his jacket framing hollowed cheekbones that flex as he breathes in and out through his nose. His trunk is so solid and flat you’d swear it was marble if you couldn’t feel the beat of his heart through his shirt.

“You don’t seem...yourself” you say cautiously, watching the ring of his pupils explode outward. You’re suddenly reminded of a wolf, stepping on a rabbit before it tears its neck out. “I’m feeling more myself than I have in a...long time,” he purrs darkly.

Loki trails a long finger down your cheek, curling at the angle of your jaw and tipping your chin up to face him. There is a calculated pause.

“And do you know what I want to do?” You shake your head, eyes wide like a virgin. Loki smirks, and it makes your pussy melt into your underwear. He leans closer, inhaling against your hairline. His crotch rubs against you, a low rasping sigh escaping his lips as the weight of his cock drags against the bare skin between your standard issue loungewear set.

“I’ll give you a clue,” he rasps lower and dirtier than you thought possible. “It’s not eating that pie.” His eyes narrow, and stay like that.

A curl has fallen down his forehead, black and slick and every bit as out of place as he is in your apartment. And yet – it belongs there.

The counter-top digs into your spine, Loki’s body crushing into your own with the mass of his towering form. You bring a hand to his chest, pressing lightly against the hot flesh you’ve longed for.

“What happened out there-?” you start, feeling desire slide between your thighs as he shakes his head with a chuckle. “Someone reminded me of past transgressions,” he mutters, fingers toying with the sides of your top.

They slide beneath it, his large hands making quick work of cupping your breasts. The rough wool of his jacket grazes your nipples, hard and ripe for his attentions. His eyelids flutter as the flesh moulds to his touch, heavy cock pulsing.

“They reminded me of some terrible...awful things I’d done,” he enunciates slowly. His eyes are alight with mischief, with seduction. Pure godhood is leaking from him like a vapour, saturating the air around you grown heavy with the humidity of sex.

“And it reminded me, of the terrible...awful things I wish to do to you.”

Your legs feel weak. And Loki can feel it too.

His hands slide quickly down your waist, casting the loose sweatpants you wear to the floor. You gasp, gripping the sides of his face and pulling him to you.

Whatever the reason, if this is your chance – you’re taking it.

In moments, his tongue jams into your mouth. It’s wild, unhinged- and for now, the notorious Loki Laufeyson is all you can feel. All you can breathe and taste – every sense alive with his urgency.

He seems to have known the curves of your body for a lifetime, dexterous fingers curling into the perfect dents as he hoists you into the air. Immediately your legs lock around his hips, the flat of his cock pressed against your eager, soaking cunt. “Want me to go easy on you, little thing?” he groans as he spins you round. “Now is your chance.” You decline between grunts as you force his face to yours, tugging at his slut-mussed curls. His chuckle vibrates against your teeth. “Good,” he utters quietly into your open mouth.

Suddenly a cool, flat surface presses against your back. You cast a glance to the side, checking that you are still in fact in your sparse TVA studio. A flicker of green licks the floor beneath Loki’s feet, magic recoiling to its master now that its work is done. A shudder runs down your spine, hips bucking into the thick of his cock still tight beneath the pants.

“A little...theatre, for your initiation.” he purrs smugly as he raises a hand above your head and smacks the newly placed wooden beam twice.

It runs from the ceiling to the floor at the end of your bed. Before you have a chance to process, Loki tosses you to the mattress.

“On your knees, face me.” You comply. The wetness between your thighs is unbearable now, every involuntary clench of your pussy sending pathetic shock-waves of desire rippling across your skin. “Take it off,” he rumbles as he lowers his chin again with a devastating glint. It flickers to the t-shirt.

You pull it over your head, casting it to the floor. Satisfied, Loki raises a hand, curling his fingers. You can feel invisible binds licking around your wrists, winding and whispering against the skin. He pulls the fist towards him with a flourish – and by doing so, you. Yanked forwards, your hands fly to either side of the beam. They meet in the middle, a low hum of magic sizzling as Loki watches on. He widens his legs, the fabric of his trousers creasing and straining beneath the mass of muscle beneath. The triangular stance makes a whine snake from your throat, and a small smile twitches the corner of his mouth.

“Right where I’ve wanted you, all this time,” he hums while his fingers work his belt-buckle with aching slowness.

“Fuck me, Loki” you gasp desperately, clenching around air. It’s all you’ve wanted since the first time you laid eyes on him, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine this. Loki chuckles mirthlessly, biting his lip. “Oh sweet one,” he coos darkly, “you know not what you ask.”

The leather slides from its holster with a rough hiss as you groan, resting your head against the beam. Anything. You would do anything.

Butterflies soar in your belly as the god loops the belt around one palm. With the other, he pops the button of his trousers, releasing his cock. The obscene bulge you had only fantasised of as you writhed beneath your bedsheets under the cover of darkness lies tantalisingly in the grasp of his hand, pumping slowly back and forth as his head tilts.

Your tongue flattens, already imagining choking on it as he takes his pleasure; saliva dripping in whoreish swathes down your jaw.

“How like you this?” he growls while clasping his hands behind his back with a ceremonial stiffen. He shifts his feet on the floor while you squirm against the post. It's too much to take in. A garbled moan is all you can manage as magic melts the thick jacket from his body, and then his shirt...and then his pants.

But the belt? That stays wound around one hand, the veins taut and thick and pulsing.

A thrill drops your stomach. You realise that before now, you had only ever met the shadow of Loki Laufeyson which stalked the halls of the TVA. A mirage, dulled by the weight of what he tried to suppress.

Now, somehow, he was free.

But there would be time for understanding later. Loki paced naked around the beam, unwinding the belt from his palm. The muscles in his ass tighten and relax with ever careful pace, cock bobbing with every measured step, muscles in his thighs clenching as he inspects his meal. He’s hungry, it seems. Thick valleys dip in the side of his waist, the ripple of thick shoulder muscle making your thighs tremble as you hold position. “I want to make love to you,” Loki pondered as if to himself. “I want to pleasure you beyond an inch of your sanity, until you are breathless putty begging for release from your amorous torment.” He spins pointedly to face you, gaze afire with an aura you’ve only seen in the archives. “But not tonight,” he says.

Your cheek presses against the beam with a whimper, pussy throbbing. Anything. He shakes the belt out with a dramatic flourish, looking at it and then to you with a jovial air of expectation. An eyebrow cocks. “Just one. For me” he purrs sweetly, undertones of velvet obsidian spicing the air between you. “Two,” you gasp as you squirm. Loki throws his head back in laughter, wild curls tickling down his shoulder-blades. He snaps back up, and with a single graceful bound he positions himself behind you on the bed. Large hands roam your body, biting kisses marking down your neck, your shoulders. There will be marks, you think. It is not a supposition, but a certainty.

He is everywhere at once, fingers trailing through your dripping sex while he utters the filthiest praises the timeline has ever known. The fact he desires you, is touching you – that simple act alone is almost too much to bear.

“I knew this day would come,” he whispers deviously as his lips and teeth make their procession down your spine, your hips, your ass. “An inevitability...perhaps” he groans before sucking the plump round of your ass with an obscene moan. A whizz cuts the air as the belt lays claim to the soft curve with no warning, impact sending your hips flush to the beam with a snap.

You cry out his name, the biting pain followed by the moist slather of his tongue against the tender skin. He bites down, catching only a sliver between his teeth. Groaning against his prize, Loki slips his digits through your sopping folds. “Good fucking girl,” he rasps wetly, thrumming your clit. Bucking against him, you try to slow time as his fingers go about their light work. It’s gentle. Too gentle.

“I knew we’d get along.” he smarms. You can feel his gluttonous smirk thick in the air.

He pulls away, the second smack of the belt coming down in the same precise location as the first.

You yelp, bracing against the beam while Loki moans behind you. He runs his palm across the skin, breathing heavily.

The god’s body presses against your own, flattening you against the pillar while you grunt his name into the wood. Condensation is forming on the grain, the heat making your eyes sting as keenly as your ass. Loki chuckles darkly. A menacing thud sounds to your right as the belt is thrown to the floor, immediately followed by the curl of his fingers around your hips. A sharp inhale sears the back of your throat, realising what is to come.

Your only regret, is that you can’t see his face as he squeezes his huge cock inside your heat with a guttural gasp of air. Another time, you think optimistically; all other thoughts leaving your body as Loki releases a ragged, choking splutter.

He’s settled on his knees, guiding your pussy down his iron manhood with devastating slowness. Your ass meets the expanse of his thighs, the softness of your curves against his animalism making you feel like you might break. And perhaps you would. He thrusts up with the precision of an executioner. Never in your most unhinged fantasies did you think being full of Loki's cock would feel this good. Make you feel this free. The fingers of one hand twist in your hair, tugging it back. If you crane far enough, you can just see the bow of his jawline flex, his chin pointed to the ceiling. The veins in his neck strain, Adam’s apple tight and static with the clench of his teeth. Every filthy, whoreish grunt from his throat is heaven.

The stick of your arousal coats him, every squelch as he fucks into you making your eyes roll back. Your arms ache, but the thrill rising in your blood as orgasm bubbles makes it peel into oblivion. “Who am I?” he growls, the tone seeping into the depth of your soul.

Words have left you, rattling around in a haze of pleasure and utter bemusement. Short gasps are all that come out, but Loki’s showmanship will not be thwarted. “Who am I?” he repeats ceremonially, bottoming out with a punishing thrust.

You yank against the invisible binds, clenching around the root of his cock as he drags it out with a thundering groan. Every vein, every ridge of his manhood makes your soul ignite. “Loki-” you pant, muffled by the squash of your cheek against the wooden beam. Another punishing thrust. If his fingertips weren’t digging so much into the dip of your hips, you were sure you’d hit the ceiling. “Who?” he spits.

You feel a spray of venom hit between your shoulder blades, the violent smoulder of his eyes piecing the top of your spine as he rails you like a bitch in heat. His fingers curl around the nape of your neck, massaging gently as the fire between your legs reaches critical levels. It’s not a threat, it’s incentive. Your lips part, climax threatening to undo you from the inside out. And somehow, you know what he wants.

“God of Mis-mischief – urgh-ah, Loki...Laufeyson, God of..fuck, Mischief”

You and he moan in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folds flush against your back.

The force of his primal need settles on your neck from his breath, twitching cock tugging inside your desperate pussy with shallow thrusts as he comes undone with a thunder of your name. The force of his seed hits like a flood, spurting against your fluttering walls as you clamp around his girth. A mess of shuddering, juddering, raw flesh. He settles back on his calves, rocking you gently as he milks himself to completion.

All you can feel is the haze of his attention in your orgasm-addled state, hands massaging the spill of your sweat-damp breasts while blood thunders in your ears. You’re vaguely aware of him speaking. “Sorry can you repeat that?” you murmur, tilting you chin. He’s right there, soft lips capturing yours in a messy kiss. It hurts your neck, but fuck...is it worth it. “I said, I have to follow up on something,” he whispers conspiratorially.

His hand travels downwards, tucking between your legs before taking hold of the root of his cock still buried deep inside. You can feel it slide side-to-side, his fingers playing in the swell of hot cum from gathered there.

He brings the hand slowly upwards, scissoring his fingers. Strings of arousal glint in the low light as he hovers it in front of your mouth. Instinctually, you point out your tongue, leaning forwards to meet his fingers.

“Ah,” Loki breaths as you take both fingers between your lips, sucking gently; deep to the second knuckle. His hips pump up gently, hot breath misting your ear as he buries his face in your neck. “F-fuck, little thing…” he rasps, “-you’re even more than I thought you’d be.” Sliding his fingers from your mouth, he picks up the wisp of his train of thought. “This was more of a...flying visit.” he says. Your brow knits, trying in vain to tug your hands from the beam. “But I shan’t be long. Believe me, I would rather be here. But what can I say, I am much in demand.” The mattress shifts as Loki swings his legs over the bed, standing with a stretch. You watch the muscles in his back flex, every inch carved by the gods themselves. Naturally, you muse with a thrill as his freed cum drips lazily down your inner thighs. “Forgetting something?” you purr, enjoying the slant of Loki’s brows as he turns. Your smile fades as that look crawls over his face again. “Who am I?” he quips with a smirk. Magic rolls over his body. The trousers unfurl, followed by his shirt and tie – as fresh as ever. There is a rustle of leather as his belt rears from the floor, and with a decadent click of his fingers, it slithers around his waist; cinching in. The brown jacket appears folded over his forearm.

Your brow furrows, yanking at the invisible binds. “Loki-” you say. It’s a warning, not a statement.

“Who am I?” he repeats, arching a brow.

You roll your eyes, teeth gritting. “Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief.” Loki smiles. The type of smile you’ve seen in the corridors many times. The type of smile that usually precedes something which increases your workload. His gaze flickers from your face to the beam, hands still bound as he begins to pace backwards towards the door. He raises his palms in a gesture of feigned sympathy, a devious tug at one corner of his mouth betraying him.

“Always have been,” he smoulders, a wolfish grin spreading.

“Always will be.”

Tags (cont in comments) @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @buttercupcookies-blog @mrs-illyrian-baby @ohboyanotherlokiblog

[cleo-fox]

Daylight

Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.

The sunlight wakes you the next morning.

It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.

Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.

That seems more likely.

You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 

The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.

But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.

You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.

Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”

“Really? That was rude of him.”

“Very.”

He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”

Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.

7:38 am.

“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”

Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”

“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”

You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”

“I’d never,” he says.

“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”

You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”

You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.

“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”

You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.

You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.

You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.

“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.

“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.

“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”

He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”

“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”

His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.

“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit

You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.

“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”

“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”

You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”

Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.

Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”

Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”

He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.

You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.

“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.

It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.

The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 

You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.

“All right?” he asks softly.

You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.

It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.

“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.

Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.

But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.

It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.

The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.

Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).

But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.

“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.

“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.

“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”

You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.

“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”

You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.

“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”

You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.

You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.

His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.

It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.

“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.

He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”

You grin. “Not even a little?”

He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”

His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”

“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.

The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.

“You are way too good at this,” you say.

“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”

“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”

He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”

“We’ll see.”

The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.

His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 

“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.

“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.

“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.

“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”

“We are already running late—”

“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”

“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”

“I’ve waited so long, darling.”

“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.

“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.

You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.

Fuck. 

You are definitely going to have sex again.

His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.

“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”

And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.

It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.

Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.

He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”

You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”

He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”

“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.

Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”

“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”

“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”

“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.

“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”

“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.

Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”

Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.

“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”

“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”

“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”

You blink at him. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.

“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 

“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”

“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.

“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”

Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”

Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”

“You’re taking his side?”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”

It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.

“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.

You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”

“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”

“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”

“To sleep?” you tease. 

“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”

The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.

You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”

[fuglypickles]

Mentally I’m still here 😀😀

[percheduphere]

You know what I would find really hilarious?

CONSIDER:

The Avengers meet God of Stories Loki and Mobius. Mobius is very charming, very folksy. He pours everyone coffee. Makes sure the thermostat in the conference room is at a comfortable temperature. Offers croissants. All the markers of a good host.

The Avengers all like him right away but are wary of Loki. After a comedic abridged version of a TVA infodump, in which Loki and Mobius ping-pong little details and show their whole squabble and tease dynamic, one of Kang's underlings is captured.

MOBIUS: Okay. Think I got a read on this guy. You wanna take a swing at him for intel or should I?

LOKI: I think you should. Y'know, trying out the whole 'good guy' bit.

MOBIUS: Sounds good. Gentlemen's competition. Time me?

LOKI: Of course.

And the Avengers watch as this cozy little human goes in and just EVISCERATES the underling. No weapons. No superpowers. Just WORDS.

The underling is on the floor, in a fetal position, sobbing and begging no more. He spills all the critical information they need. Mobius steps out.

The Avengers are in SHOCK.

BUCKY: (mumuring) ... Jesus Christ ...

HAWKEYE: (whispering) Holy shit, he's scarier than Nat.

MOBIUS: (to Loki) How'd I do?

LOKI: 2 minutes and 43 seconds. Not bad.

MOBIUS: Eh, still haven't beat your record.

LOKI: Well, I do have the advantage of magic. Should I take a handicap?

MOBIUS: Don't insult me.

[lovely-pixie]

crawling on the ceiling gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure

"because he cares about Mobius more than anyone he's ever cared about," Executive Producer Kevin Wright.

[talesofesther]

make it taste like love

Loki x Reader

Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.

A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.

Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.

A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.

King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.

─── ·❆· ──��

This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.

You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.

"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.

"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.

With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.

Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."

"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.

"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."

"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.

Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"

You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.

Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.

No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.

Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.

You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.

See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.

But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.

And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?

You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.

You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.

Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.

There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.

Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.

You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.

─── ·❆· ───

The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.

It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.

In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.

You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.

Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.

But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.

The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.

It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.

"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"

Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?

His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."

You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."

The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.

The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.

"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.

"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.

"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."

Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.

Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"

You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."

Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.

"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.

You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.

When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.

─── ·❆· ───

You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.

Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.

When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.

So far, it hasn't happened yet.

The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.

And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.

With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.

The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.

Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.

You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.

It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.

Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."

"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"

"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.

Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."

You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"

For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.

Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."

You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."

There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.

"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"

The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.

─── ·❆· ───

After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.

"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.

"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.

"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.

Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.

Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"

You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.

"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.

As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.

Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.

You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.

Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.

You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.

"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.

"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.

"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.

Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.

It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.

Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.

─── ·❆· ───

The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.

You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.

The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.

"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.

"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.

You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.

Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.

You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.

You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.

You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.

Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.

The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.

"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.

He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.

You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."

A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."

"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.

Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"

He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?

"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."

Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.

It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.

"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."

The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.

"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."

Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.

"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.

"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."

There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.

Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."

You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.

Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.

He melted into you.

Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.

The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.

You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.

His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"

You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."

Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Loki using his Shadows on you after your behaviour at a party

TW: Slight Voeyerism, sex with shadows, hints to somnophilia.

Odin had held a grand festival. It had beautiful nymphs and goddesses from different worlds. You had dressed in a beautiful black top with a matching skirt. The shirt cut off before your navel and the skirt cut off before your thighs.

Wrapped in a beautiful glittery veil, and a golden headband. You were stunning, in Loki's eyes you shined brighter than all the stars above, glittering on the ceiling.

Grünle a jöttenhimer had asked you to dance and you agreed to one just to indulge him. Suprisingly akward was far from it. He was a gentleman through and through. With slight jokes and remarks. You enjoyed his company yes. Buqt you wished to be in the arms of a god a few yards away.

Although those yards felt like seas. You knew this wasn't one sided as you felt his gaze on you, and you only the entire time. Grünle brought you close for the last time and gave you a polite hug.

Kissing you cheek, he smiled and told you to enjoy yourself. You simply smiled and said you would.

You allowed the music and the wine to guide you, mingling with he crowd. You didn't feel his gaze anymore. You started to turn but was caught when yoy fwlt something trace your waist.

Or rather.

Someone.

"You of all people should know that i get jealous very easily, especially with people i care about," he whispered gently into your neck.

He moved you to he music and you began to dance. You didn't need to look behind you, or at the long veiny hands infront of you.

And he was jealous.

He slowly twirled you and you glimpsed his face.

He was jealous.

The dance between you was filled with tension, he held you closer at parts, his hand going higher towards your neck as though to collar you.

You smiled to yourself, if he ever wished to do that, boy would you let him. He kissed your cheek at the end of the dance. Before stealing one from you lips. It was a quick one.

You only bit your lip and curtsied and after your dance gave your hand out to another, and another, and another. Till you swore you shoes had worn out. With every dance, they would swoop in a kiss your cheek.

You could basically feel his jealousy rising with each peck. You had gone out to the adjoining balcony for air. You tried to gather your thoughts. You had teased the god of mischief. Surely some form of punishment should be on its way.

As you stood pondering what you had done. You realised you weren't alone. You felt them.

His shadows.

You felt them slip under your dress, fondling and groping you. One even slipped into your hand and took your drink. Sliding it onto the balcony table.

The slowly relieved you of you dress sliding it off your shoulders. Soon you were on your back, softly moaning at the invisible person on you. You felt everything, from your breasts to your nethers.

It's not like you've never been touched there before, it's just that you've never been touched by his shadows.

The moved in sync guiding you to your orgasm, one went over your mouth to stop anyone from getting to hear you.

Loki was the type to either fuck you infront of everyone, or the keep your moans and pleasures to himself.

It stopped at your breasts for a minute giving it a light squeeze before heading up your face to your ear.

Over and over, these shadows were relentless. Guiding you to every orgasm. You were a sweating heaving mess. You turned to try and crawl away but they wouldn't let go.

Finally they released you. Cleaning you up aswell. Your mind was hazy and in a mess. Slowly one slid up your body again.

"The things I wish to do to you lovely, but alas my shadows will have to suffice for now, do not wait up for me love, i shall come for you, then, I shall have you, awake or not."

lo elysium.

You felt the floor open at your feet and off you went. You hoped loki would join you soon.

A/N: curtsied

Idk how to spell it and I'm too lazy for da shit

Also if y'all cannot picture the outfit, I got reference from. The Dragon King's bride on WEBTOON , CHAPTER 16

Also reader is either black or like dark skinned, am I projecting? 🤔 maybe🤷🏾‍♀️

[4ever-feral]

Oh he def talks you thru it & praises you 😮‍💨😏

[lokis-coconut28]

A Green & Gold Sundae

A/N : Hello! Thank you so much for your patience on this one! Life got wild. Thinking about a Part 2?

I appreciate the love and support you all gave on Sports Bra! I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

Warnings: Food play, Smutttt, 18+ ONLY Minors DNI

Summary: (Y/N x Loki) Insomnia leads to late night dessert with the God of Mischief. WC 2.3k

Masterlist Here

Toss, turn, repeat. Insomnia washed over you like a tidal wave dragging your mind into the sleepless abyss. You focused on the alarm clock atop the desk inquisitively - 12:18am, Sunday morning. With a discontented sigh you emerged out of bed in hopes of quelling your restless night. 

Meandering into the kitchen, you glanced over at the common room. Loki was nestled comfortably in the corner chaise, studying a leather bound tome reservedly in the soft light. Thor clad with headset shouted an incoherent threat at the television to a “NoobMaster69”. You quietly opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for a midnight snack, unaware of the eyes that were lingering on your form.

You heard commotion, rolling your eyes as you witnessed Thor throwing his headset on the ground. He tromped your direction, countenance mellowing as he spotted you rummaging in the ice box. 

“Y/N!” Thor beamed. “You cannot sleep? Up for playing a game with me?” 

You shook your head, declining, while grabbing a can of whipped cream from the door. You took the cap off and sprayed it directly into your mouth. 

“Nohhh fank youh.” You slurred, mouth full of froth. 

Thor chortled and snagged the can from you, dispersing a mighty tower of cream into his mouth. You jovially bantered, laughing whilst requesting, “Another!” 

“Of course!” 

You leant back, Thor squirting more cream into your mouth. Loki's eyes widened, subcontiously clenching the book in his lap. His focus sharpened in surveillance of his brother in such close proximity to you. He felt- no he couldn’t. He certainly did not feel jealous. 

“Loki? Want some?” You jocundly inquired from across the space, fracturing Loki from his envious thoughts. 

“Only idiots and fools play these witless games, mortal.” Loki venomously spat at you. He slammed his book shut, abandoning it on the chair, strutting with haste out of range down the hall. 

The joy you had exuded moments prior shriveled inside your heart like a dying flower. Loki had never spoken to you so harshly. 

Thor noticed your discomfort at Loki's insult. He leaned down and whispered, “He is adopted,” into your ear. You stifled a half-chuckle and smacked his large bicep. 

“Be nice!” You scolded lightheartedly, beginning to head toward your own room. 

There was a soft knock on your door, barely audible. You glimpsed at the clock and grumbled. 3:30am. Tony. Stark was notorious for recruiting you to work in the early hours. While you were grateful to be part of this team, briefing documents were the last thing you felt like reading in your insomniatic state. 

Moseying over to the sound, you swung the door open in exasperation, bracing yourself for Tony’s middle of the night assignment. You froze ice cold when you saw Loki before you instead.

“What brings you to my room, Laufeyson?” 

Loki winced internally at the tone of your words. You never called him that. 

“An apology. May I come in?” He said with an air of sincerity that riddled you with regret. 

Silently stepping aside, you observed Loki as he cautiously entered your room. His hands dwelled behind his back, arms tight to his sides. He loomed with the utmost formal, stiff posture. Your interest was piqued at his bravery not only to come to your room, but to also offer an apology. Core tightening at the sudden realization you were alone with Loki in the middle of the night, you listened to him intently as he began to speak. 

“Y/N… I owe you an apology for what I said tonight. How I spoke to you - it was harsh…” he shifted uncomfortably on his heels. “It’s just- it is not proper for royalty where I come from to do - well… fun things… Midgardian things.” Loki confessed in the tenebrosity of your bedroom. “And with Thor there… Well… He would tell The Warriors Three. I would never hear the end of it Y/N. Gossip spreads like wildfire in Asgard...” 

You could tell Loki was being vulnerable, something that did not come first nature to him. 

“...I find it difficult to let go of those customs. I am trying... So - if you would still have it… If the offer still stands…” he continued, revealing the can of whipped cream from behind his back with pleading eyes. 

You raised your eyebrows at him with a playful grin. “Really?” 

Apprehensively, he bowed his head in permission, handing over the canister. 

“Come here.” You giggled, seizing the can. You crawled onto your bed, scooching to one side. You tapped the mattress beside you twice, beckoning the God of Mischief to come join you. 

Following your lead, Loki tried to ignore the flutters in his stomach. Sitting next to you, he was painfully poised. Yet even in the late of night, he looked as collected and composed as he ever did, stature dripping with elegance. 

“Lean against my leg.” You hushedly instructed. 

Loki shimmied down low on the bed, resting his head carefully against your slightly bent knee. He looked straight up at you, seeking guidance. Allowing someone to have control of himself was new. Steadily, he rested his body perpendicular to yours. 

“Tilt your head back.”

You cradled his scalp and gently tugged his hair, encouraging access to his mouth. All traces of awkwardness melted away as he arched slowly into your palm. You admired Loki’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the new angle exposing his alabastrine flesh. Your eyes lingered, watching the heartbeat quicken in his strong neck, deep veins coursing like a sapphire river. You shifted your left leg slightly, arousal starting to stir from forbidden thoughts of your colleague.  

“Good.” You praised, loosening the grip on his obsidian curls. A small smirk formed on your lips. “Open up, please.” 

His breath hitched as he willed the tension in his jaw to release, slightly parting his mouth. He wet his lips with his tongue, allowing access for your dessert. Gently, you pressed the nozzle downward, forcing sweet cream to squirt from the star-shaped tip. Loki flinched, startled from the sound of the pressure that was built up in the can. You smiled reassuringly, sliding your hand down to support the nape of his neck. 

“It’s okay. Relax your body. It’s good right?” You soothed.

“Mmm-mmhmm. Another,” he hissed, mimicking your words to Thor earlier. A familiar burning swept over your stomach at his new inflection, laced with lust and possession.

Loki’s hands fidgeted near his groin, attempting to hide his arousal as you pressed down again. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, appreciating the feeling of you. The way you were cradling him felt so intimate. Your delicate hand holding him sent him to a state of tranquility he hadn’t felt in eternities… 

You made a large swirl in his mouth. Not nearly enough to make him choke, but certainly more than filling it. Loki’s eyes snapped open and glared at you in artificial anger. 

“I’m sorry… I had to do it.” You feigned your most innocent and apologetic look. 

Loki deftly dipped his pointer finger through the peak of cream in his mouth before consuming the rest. He tilted his head toward you, observing your expression. You were at ease with him. Peaceful and serene… Not afraid. 

Loki raised his finger to your mouth. He hoped this was not too forward of him, he hoped not to scare you away. 

Loki’s outstretched arm revealed the erection straining against his pants. His dormant hand began clenching his thigh as you bewitchingly leaned forward and sucked his finger clean of the foam, eyeing his visible arousal. Setting the can down and mindlessly draping your free hand on his abdomen, you felt his diaphragm rise and fall under your fingertips. A blush crept across your face at his hungry eyes taking you in. 

“Satisfied?” You questioned.  

Loki leaned in close to you, gently sitting up in one fluid movement. 

“It was quite good… However…” He tenderly rested his palm on your cheek, demanding eye contact.  “I crave something sweeter.” 

Loki ran seductive circles on your cheekbone, exalting the features of your profile, hesitating only for a moment's time. Forthwith, he captured your lips in a sultry embrace, comfortably fitting them between his own. You hummed in approval as you allowed him access to glide against your tongue. You both gave in to a sacred dance, tongues entwining in a passionate display of affection. Tasting each other, a heated frenzy between yourselves was created. 

Loki pulled away searchingly. He studied your face for any trace of protest. 

Coyly you lifted your lashes up at him, admiring the beauty in his irises. Being this close to him was enchanting. 

“Yes?” You chuckled. 

“I just - I want to be sure that was okay. I do not want to betray your trust, Y/N.” He whispered bashfully.

You pressed an affirming kiss on his lips, running your hand down his side. You spoke as you began to swap spots. 

“Lay on your back, Prince.”

Loki leaned backward as you knelt between his spread thighs. Slight panic was evident on his face as your new positions did not allow for him to hide the bulge in his trousers. 

And Gods. You were kneeling. His swollen cock throbbed at just the sight. 

“Spray it for me now… Your Highness. Spray where you want me to taste.” You mewled sweetly, looking for approval as you slid his sweater up. 

You drew a line with your finger on his exposed skin, bobbing your head once encouraging him to follow. Loki understood the instruction and sprayed a lawless line from his belly button to his sternum. 

You hovered over his sculpted belly, stalking the cream line. You slid your tongue over the messy map he had drawn for you, licking it from the top of his navel up to his chest. You planted a kiss on his jawline. Out of your peripherals there was a flash of green resulting in the disappearance of Loki’s pullover. 

“No cheating!” You playfully tugged his head back, massaging his scalp while he sprayed another line up his collarbone. You followed with a trail of kisses and sucks against his throat. He eased his eyes closed once more, letting his mouth drop open at your heated, sticky laps against the nerves in his neck.

“So- Sorry.. Y/N. No more cheating-”. You cut him off with a suction that was sure to leave a mark.

Cautiously, Loki drew a line down his happy trail. You locked eyes, licking the line up to his belly button whilst simultaneously pulling his bottoms down. He moaned in bliss as you placed a small peck above his pubic hair, continuing to tug the trousers down at a sinfully slow pace. His penis sprung free, dripping with pre-cum. You watched him pulsate as he gracefully drizzled a crown of whipped cream on his tip. His pupils dilated, dark in anticipation. 

You thumbed Loki’s hip bone, drawing an invisible heart shape on his sensitive skin. His stomach flexed involuntarily at the contact. The corners of his mouth curved upward, noting the shape you had chosen. 

“Command me, Loki.” You instructed him, sensually. “What do you want, Prince?” 

“Suck, Pet.” He demanded, firm, yet lovingly. Obediently you leaned down and sucked the mix of whip and precum from his cock. Pleasure surged from his base to his tip as your cheeks hollowed. 

“Another?” You sexily teased.

Loki let out a grunt of ecstasy and relief. He had been jealous of that word only hours ago, but now, how you said it to him, it was utterly intoxicating. 

Tasting his silky knob, your saliva ran down Loki’s length. You pumped your hand, gliding up and down with a rhythm so divine not even magic could mimic the sensation. Loki looked down at you, working sweetly between his legs. You were absolutely delicious. His cock trembled, threatening release as your mouth and grip repetitively jerked his most private anatomy. 

One hand stroking in pattern on his shaft, you allowed the other to gently fondle his testicles. He jolted forward into your mouth, relishing at the contact,  feverishly humping upward.

“Y/N…” Loki panted. You tugged his scrotum, massaging each nut gently. Your eyes flicked up to the Prince’s hand clasping your duvet. You could tell he was dangerously close to the edge. Watching his chest rise and fall at a rapid pace, you hummed at the taste of his precum, taking him further to hit the back of your throat. 

“Gods - Y/N…” he mewled . “Fuck! I’m - I’m going to cum Y/N…” 

You winked at him as you rolled your tongue sweetly over the hole that was begging for relief. Relentlessly, you pumped and sucked Loki off, taking delight in his sugary taste. His body began to quiver, commencing his inevitable orgasm. 

Loki’s hips lifted off the mattress, eyes squeezing shut tightly as his body bucked and vibrated. The intensity of pleasure washing over him as he expelled his seed into your mouth caused him to exhale a libertine moan. You supported his raised back with your hand, rubbing in encouragement as he let go, messily suctioning along with every shake and spurt of release. Tears of euphoria pooled in his eyes as he allowed you every last drop of his ejaculate. Once you were sure his release was complete, you swallowed Loki’s load. Sliding up next to him on the bed, you gently curled to his side, listening to his respiration. 

“How does Midgardian dessert compare to Asgard’s?” You perked your eyebrow at him. 

“Well, I have only had one Midgardian dessert.” He breathlessly purred against your ear. “And I think it may have caused me to develop a sweet-tooth.”

A long morning of dessert education was paved before you both, with Loki accepting your offer of a cherry on top, next.  This was your favorite Sundae.

Thinking about a part 2 to this...

[kaynothanks]

THE BARGAIN STORE

Pairing: Loki x goddess!reader

Summary: You, a goddess hiding on Earth, encounter Loki, who eons ago vowed to kill you. Loki never was one to keep his word.

Warnings: (18+ mdni) loki, what else? the smut just happened, i don’t even know how (yes, I do), oral (f receiving), loki has ulterior motives, mention of blood (lip), unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering

Word-Count: 6.5 k

Nobody suspected anything. Never had. For the past few decades, you had been the owner of your little shop, after spending many centuries on the run.

Throughout centuries, there had been wars and revolutions, plagues and remedies. You had stood witness to them all. Watched from the distance as civilizations went into ruin and new ones emerged. You had made sure not to get too involved. It wasn’t your place; not your planet and not your people. Still, you had been on earth for a big part of your lifespan. In your world, you weren’t anything special, a sheep in a broad herd. And you had had enough of it. So, you had left. Ran from your responsibilities, bid no goodbyes and settled for something less.

Centuries had woven themselves into the very fabric of your being, each era a thread in the intricate tapestry of your existence. You had been many things: a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the twilight, a force as ancient and unyielding as the stars themselves. Yet, for the last few decades, you had chosen a far simpler, more unassuming role—a shopkeeper, tending to a quaint little establishment nestled on a serene street, far removed from the cacophony of the bustling city that surrounded it.

Your shop was a sanctuary, not just for you, but for all who sought refuge within its walls. From the outside, it appeared no different from any other boutique that dealt in herbs, teas, and the occasional curious trinket. However, its essence was imbued with something far more ancient, a magic that hummed quietly beneath the surface, perceptible only to those who truly believed or those who, like you, were of another world entirely.

This little shop was your haven, a place where you could be both less and more than what you were. Here, you were not the goddess who had danced among the stars, who had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, who had fled from a war that threatened to consume her very soul. Here, you were simply the keeper of secrets, of remedies both mundane and magical, offering solace to the weary and the lost.

Your reasons for choosing this existence were manifold, but at their core lay a desire for peace, for a semblance of normalcy in a life that had been anything but. You had grown weary of the endless conflicts that had defined your existence, of the power struggles that had torn apart realms and ravaged worlds. Earth, with all its simplicity and complexity, offered a respite, a place where you could hide in plain sight among its inhabitants, who remained blissfully unaware of the greater cosmos that swirled around them.

The shop became a reflection of your desire for tranquility. Its walls were lined with shelves laden with jars and bottles, each containing herbs and potions that held whispers of your old world. You delighted in the mundane tasks of tending to your plants, mixing herbs, and brewing teas, finding a sense of purpose in the healing and comfort your creations provided. Your customers, none the wiser to the true nature of your being, were drawn to your shop by an inexplicable pull, leaving with remedies for their ailments and, sometimes, a lighter heart.

For years, this life had been enough. You had convinced yourself that you could forget, that you could move beyond the past and forge a new existence among the humans you had come to cherish. But the past, as it often does, refused to remain buried. It came for you on an unremarkable day, shattering the peace you had so carefully built with the ringing of the shop's bell and the entrance of a figure from a life you had tried to leave behind.

Loki's arrival was a storm on the horizon, a harbinger of chaos that threatened to upend the world you had created. The God of Mischief, with his piercing gaze and sly grin, embodied everything you had fled from: the power, the destruction, the endless machinations of gods and men. His presence in your shop, a place that had been untouched by the affairs of gods for so long, was a stark reminder that one could never truly escape their nature or their past.

The last time you had seen Loki, it was on the battlefield. You had been on opposing sides, and his last words to you were a vow of death. Yet, here he stood, looking around your shop with a curious gleam in his eyes, not having recognized you yet. Or had he? With Loki, one could never be too sure. You steadied yourself, the mask of the shopkeeper sliding effortlessly into place. "Can I help you find anything?" Your voice was calm, betraying none of the turmoil inside.

Loki turned his attention to you, his green eyes piercing. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "I'm looking for something unique," he declared, the silk of his voice wrapping around you like a familiar shroud. His steps were measured as he approached, the predator within barely leashed. "A gift for someone who values... rare items."

You couldn't help but wonder who Loki would consider worthy of a gift. Your curiosity, however, was a dangerous thing, especially around him. "I have a few rare herbs and special tea blends. If you're looking for something more unique, perhaps a potion or two? Depending on what you wish to achieve." You kept your tone neutral, professional.

It was a game of cat and mouse, and you both knew it. Loki's lips twitched into a smile, and he moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "And what would you recommend for someone seeking... forgiveness?"

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, the mask slipped. Loki was asking for forgiveness? From whom? The thought that it might be you crossed your mind, but you dismissed it just as quickly. "Forgiveness is not easily obtained by potions alone. It requires sincerity and action. But," you paused, turning to fetch a small, unassuming bottle from a shelf behind you, "this may aid in opening the heart to forgiveness, making it more receptive."

He took the bottle, examining it with a thoughtful expression. "And what do you seek, shopkeeper? What would you have me pay for this aid?"

"Peace," the word slipped out before you could stop it. It was the truth, however. Peace was all you had sought by coming to Earth, peace from your past, from the endless battles and politics of gods.

"A tall order," Loki mused, placing the bottle down and stepping closer, invading your personal space. "But perhaps not impossible."

The tension between you was palpable, a dance of curiosity, old grudges, and unspoken questions. "Why are you here, Loki?" you dared to ask, needing to know his purpose. Your heart raced, not just from surprise but from a resurgence of a darker thrill you thought you had buried deep within. The life you had led before, filled with power plays and destruction, beckoned with a seductive finger through Loki's emerald gaze. As Loki dared to step closer, crossing the invisible boundary you had mentally drawn around yourself, a surge of defiance ignited within you. Your heart raced, not solely with fear but with the resurgence of a power you had long kept dormant. With a thought as sharp as a whispered incantation, you summoned a dagger into existence. It materialized in your hand, its golden blade gleaming with a light that spoke of ancient magics and forgotten realms. This was no mere weapon but a relic of your divine heritage, a testament to the might you once wielded freely.

You didn't hesitate. The years had taught you caution, yes, but they had also honed your instincts, sharpened them into lethal points. As Loki advanced, a smile playing on his lips as if he were merely a predator toying with his prey, you struck. The movement was fluid, a dance you had performed countless times across the battlegrounds of the stars. The blade sliced through the air, aimed with deadly precision at the figure before you.

But the strike met no resistance. Instead, the dagger sliced through the illusion, the projection of Loki dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind only the faintest traces of his magic in the air. It was a trick, a mere sleight of hand from the God of Mischief, and you had fallen for it. A cold realization washed over you, a reminder of Loki's cunning, of the depths of his power which, it seemed, had only grown over the years.

Before you could recover, before you could even curse your own folly, arms enveloped you from behind. It was an embrace as familiar as it was unexpected, one that spoke of countless lifetimes and entwined destinies. His hand snaked around your waist, securing you against him with an intimacy that belied the years of separation and the shadow of past betrayals. The other hand, firm and unyielding, gripped hold of your wrist, effortlessly disarming you of the dagger you had conjured. Its golden light flickered and died, leaving you exposed, vulnerable in a way that went beyond the physical.

Loki's breath was warm against your neck, his presence a cloak of inevitability you found yourself powerless to resist. "How I have missed you, darling," he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin, a mix of threat and endearment. In that moment, with Loki's arms around you and his voice weaving spells of its own, you were transported back across the aeons, to a time when love and war were intermingled, and your fate was inseparably tied to the whims of gods.

The realization that the figure you had attacked was but a projection, a mere echo of Loki's true self, sank in with a weight that was almost suffocating. It was a reminder of his mastery over illusions, over the realities he could weave with a mere thought. Yet, the arms that held you, the breath that teased the hairs at the nape of your neck, they were undeniably real. This was no illusion but the god himself, in flesh and blood, as tangible as the tumultuous history you shared.

The conflict within you, a storm of emotions and memories, raged with renewed intensity. Loki's proximity, his touch, it reignited flames you thought had long since turned to ash. But this was not the time for reminiscences, for getting lost in what had been. The immediate truth was that Loki, the very being who had once vowed your destruction, now held you within his grasp, not as an enemy, but with a possessiveness that spoke of deeper, more complex intentions.

As his hand released your wrist, letting the vanished dagger be forgotten, you were left to grapple with the reality of his return. His words, laden with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher, echoed in the silence that followed. Was it a declaration, a manipulation, or something in between? With Loki, the lines were always blurred, the truth as shifting as the sands of time. The shop around you, once a sanctuary of peace, now felt like a stage set for a confrontation centuries in the making. The tranquility you had so carefully cultivated was shattered, replaced by the crackling energy of a storm about to break. Loki's presence, both familiar and foreboding, promised nothing and everything, a paradox that was his very essence.

Still ensnared in Loki's unexpected embrace, his words lingering in the air between you, a whirlwind of emotions battled within you. Anger, betrayal, and a flicker of something dangerously akin to longing. His presence, his closeness, was overwhelming, yet you found the clarity to make a choice. You would play his game, match his deceit with your own cunning, even as thoughts of vengeance danced just beneath the surface of your composed exterior.

Turning your head to face him, you allowed the moment to stretch, to teeter on the edge of something neither of you could fully grasp. Your lips hovered so close to his, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, a tantalizing promise of what could be. "Have you now, my love?" The words slipped from your lips, laced with a venom sweetened by the honeyed guise of affection. It was a challenge, a provocation, delivered with the precision of one who knew just how to stir the god of mischief.

Loki responded not with words, but with action. He hummed, a sound that vibrated with a multitude of unspoken thoughts and desires, before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It was a bold move, one that sought to bridge centuries of separation and silence with the intimacy of a moment. The kiss was a fusion of past and present, a clash of wills and desires, as complex and enigmatic as Loki himself.

Yet, as his lips moved against yours, a part of you recoiled, a reminder of the chasm that lay between what was and what could never be. With a resolve as cold and sharp as a blade, your hand found its way into the silk of his dark locks. You allowed yourself a brief second, a heartbeat, to feel the warmth of him, to breathe in the scent that was undeniably Loki, before your fingers curled into a fist, gripping tightly.

With a swift, decisive motion, you pulled him away, breaking the kiss, severing the illusion of reconciliation and intimacy. "I don't believe you for a second," you hissed, the words dark and laden with all the unspoken truths and lies that had accumulated over the years. It was a declaration of war as much as it was a rejection, a line drawn in the sand that marked the boundary between past affections and present distrust.

Loki, taken aback by the suddenness of your rejection, the intensity of your grip, could only stare, the mask of charm and seduction slipping to reveal a glimpse of the genuine surprise and, perhaps, a flicker of a bruised ego beneath his mask. The god of mischief, so accustomed to being the orchestrator of deceit, found himself momentarily at a loss, caught in the web of his own making. The air between you crackled with tension, charged with the electricity of a storm on the horizon. In that moment, with the remnants of the kiss still lingering like a phantom touch upon your lips, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare. It was a tapestry woven with threads of love and hatred, betrayal and longing, each stitch a testament to the turbulent history you shared.

Your defiance, your refusal to succumb to the seduction of a momentary weakness, set the stage for what was to come. It was a declaration that you were no longer the deity who had fled, who had sought refuge in the shadows of anonymity. You were a force to be reckoned with, a player in the game of gods, and Loki would do well to remember that.

Loki's response to your defiance was as swift as it was unpredictable. His initial surprise at your resistance melted away into that all-too-familiar grin, a mischievous curve of his lips that had always heralded trouble. The atmosphere shifted palpably, charged with a tension that was as much about power as it was about the unresolved history simmering between you. He advanced, the godly aura that clung to him making the air around you thrum with energy. His approach was deliberate, each step calculated to intimidate and enthrall in equal measure. You found yourself retreating until the solid form of the front desk halted your escape, the mundane reality of your shop a stark contrast to the unfolding drama.

Loki's fingers, cool and assertive, found the hem of your clothes, tugging with a playful yet disapproving frown. "I must confess, I find myself at odds with your choice of attire," he remarked, his voice a low purr that vibrated with an undercurrent of something darker. "These... mundane garments do not suit you. I miss the dresses of old, the ones that whispered secrets against your skin, the ones I could remove with but a thought." His words were a deliberate provocation, designed to unnerve and reminisce a past intimacy that had once been.

Before you could muster a retort or push him away, he lifted you with an ease that spoke of his godly strength, sitting you atop the counter with a possessive certainty. The action was bold, an invasion of personal space that he seemed to relish, watching for your reaction, gauging how far he could push before you snapped. His behavior, this blend of familiarity and threat, placed you at a crossroads. Part of you, the part hardened by centuries of hiding and surviving, screamed for caution, for you to summon your powers and push him away, to reinforce the boundaries he so blatantly disregarded. Yet, another part, perhaps the part that had once known him more intimately, that remembered the complexity of his character, urged you to wait, to use this proximity to your advantage.

The realization dawned on you then, amid the tension and the charged air, that Loki's tactics had shifted because he needed something from you. His words, his actions, were part of a larger game, one that involved merely his goal, and by extension, you. It was a game of manipulation, of old affections twisted into new strategies, but it was also a game you could play.

"So, you miss the past," you found yourself saying, voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. Your eyes locked with his, a challenge laid bare. "But the past is a realm even you cannot return to, Loki. We are not who we once were, and desires... desires can be as fleeting as they are dangerous." It was a gamble, invoking both your shared history and the undeniable tension of the present. You sought to remind him that you were not the same deity he had once known, that you had grown and changed, just as he had. In this dance of words and wills, you were not just the prey he might have assumed you to be; you were a player in your own right, with your own cards yet to be revealed.

The next move was his, and the air between you crackled with the anticipation of it.

Loki's gaze, a maelstrom of green, held yours with an intensity that bordered on the palpable, each flicker of emotion a testament to the centuries that had shaped him. His response, when it came, was threaded with the weight of ages and the depth of a god's desires.

"My yearning for you," he began, his voice a low thrum that seemed to echo with the gravitas of eons passed, "has never been of the fleeting kind. It is as enduring as the stars that light our skies, as unyielding as the fabric of reality itself. To suggest otherwise is to misunderstand the very nature of my being."

With these words, he sank to his knees before you, an act so filled with symbolic surrender and yet charged with an undercurrent of strategy. In this position, Loki, the god of mischief, the architect of chaos, positioned himself in a posture of fealty—or so it seemed. Yet, you knew better than to take the gesture at face value. Loki was many things, but straightforward was not one of them. Every action, every word, was laced with layers of meaning, designed to manipulate and coax the desired response from those he engaged with.

His move was bold, a calculated risk meant to disarm and perhaps to remind you of the dynamics that had once defined your interactions. It was an acknowledgment of your power, your importance in this intricate game he was playing. Yet, it was also unmistakably a ploy, a way to close the distance between you, to weave a narrative of shared history and unresolved tension.

The air around you seemed charged, thick with the history and the palpable tension of the moment. Loki, on his knees, looking up at you with an intensity that spoke of genuine desire mixed with the ever-present calculation, presented a picture of vulnerability. Yet, you were not so easily swayed. You knew the depths of his cunning, the lengths he would go to achieve his ends. His admission, cloaked in the grandiosity of his age and station, left you with a choice. To engage, to allow yourself to be drawn back into the orbit of his world, his plans, or to hold firm, to remember the reasons for your distance, for the life you had chosen away from the machinations of gods and their games.

The moment stretched, a tableau of tension and possibility, as you weighed your response, acutely aware of the stakes, of the game that was afoot, and of Loki, who knelt before you, a god cloaked in the guise of a supplicant, yet undeniably dangerous, undeniably compelling.

As Loki knelt before you, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken words, you made a decision. Lifting your leg, the black of your heeled shoes catching the light and glinting ominously, you pushed against his shoulder. It was a gesture meant to distance, to assert your autonomy against his sudden show of vulnerability or manipulation—whichever it truly was. Your voice, when it came, was laced with a mixture of resolve and undeniable truth, a reflection of the complex dance that had always defined your interactions.

"Your desire for me," you began, your words deliberate, "could never hope to keep pace with your lust for your myriad schemes and machinations, my love." The term of endearment, spoken so, carried a weight of irony, a nod to the past entanglements and the understanding that, for Loki, the pursuit of his goals often overshadowed everything else.

Yet, instead of acquiescing to the push, of allowing himself to be dismissed so easily, Loki's reaction was to tighten his grasp on the situation—quite literally. His hands, those instruments of mischief and manipulation, found your leg, his touch bold as he held you in place. Then, with an audacity that was quintessentially Loki, he pressed his lips against your calf in a kiss that was as shocking as it was calculated. It was an act of defiance, a refusal to be pushed away, and a statement of his intent all at once.

This gesture, so intimate and yet so brazen, served multiple purposes. It was a challenge to your autonomy, a test of your boundaries, and an undeniable declaration of his continued interest. Yet, it was also unmistakably Loki—crossing lines, blurring boundaries, and always, always pushing for more than what was offered. The action left you momentarily stunned, grappling with the rush of emotions it elicited. Anger, irritation, an unwelcome surge of something more confusing, all mingled together. It was a reminder of the power he wielded, not just through his magic, but through his very presence, his ability to unnerve and to provoke.

In that moment, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare once more. It was a tangled web of attraction and repulsion, of history and the potential for future conflicts. His refusal to be dismissed, to be pushed aside, was both infuriating and intriguing. It was Loki in all his complexity, challenging you to respond, to engage, to once again become entangled in the endless cycle of push and pull that had always defined you.

The next move was yours to make, and the shop, once a place of mundane tranquility, had become a battleground of wills, a stage upon which the next act of your shared story would unfold. With a flick of your fingers, reality within the confines of your shop twisted and shifted, unfurling like the petals of a flower under the first light of dawn. The mundane guise that had cloaked the truth from prying eyes dissolved, revealing the hidden splendor that no ordinary human could perceive. The illusion you had meticulously maintained for years now peeled away, and the floor beneath your feet transformed, paths of gold unfurling like rivers through the space. Artifacts, their origins as ancient and varied as the stars themselves, now adorned the walls—each piece a testament to histories untold and powers unimaginable.

But the transformation did not stop with the shop. It enveloped you as well, the very essence of your being responding to the unspoken command. The simple, mundane dress that had draped your form vanished, replaced by attire that echoed Loki's wistful remembrance. What materialized was reminiscent of your homeland's attire, designed for the relentless heat and the unyielding brightness of your realm. It was barely more than a tunic, the silk woven in patterns that spoke of ancient craftsmanship and royal decree, clinging to your form in a way that left little to the imagination. The hem flirted with the very brink of decency, the rump of your body barely shielded by the delicate fabric, a bold declaration of your heritage and status.

In this transformation, you reclaimed a fragment of your past self, the visage you had donned before you sought refuge and anonymity amongst the mortals of Earth. The change was not merely physical but symbolic, a shedding of the facade you had adopted to navigate the complexities of a world not your own. Standing there, in the true appearance of your being, you confronted Loki not as the unassuming shopkeeper he had encountered moments before, but as the goddess you truly were—powerful, formidable, and undeniably yourself. You stood before him not as an adversary to be underestimated, but as an equal, a being of immense power and depth, whose true nature was as complex and as potent as his own.

The shop, now a reflection of truths long concealed, served as the perfect backdrop for the unfolding confrontation. The artifacts that lined the walls, each bearing witness to the ages and the stories they contained, stood as silent sentinels to the encounter between two beings who transcended the mundane, whose histories were intertwined with the very fabric of the cosmos.

In this moment, the illusion shattered, the truth laid bare, you awaited Loki's response, the air thick with anticipation and the weight of unspoken challenges. The game, it seemed, had shifted, and the rules were being rewritten with each passing second. As the golden light settled and the true form of your shop shimmered into existence around you, Loki's initial reaction was a momentary flicker of surprise that quickly morphed into an appreciative smirk. His gaze swept over the transformed space, taking in the ancient artifacts and the streams of gold that ran like rivers across the floor. But it was the change in you that held his attention captive. The way the silk of your tunic clung to your form, the bold declaration of your divine heritage—it was as if he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

Loki breathed, his voice a blend of admiration and something darker, more primal. "This," Loki's voice wove through the air with an echo of ancient power, "is the true essence of you that lingers in my memory.” His eyes, alight with a mischievous and predatory gleam, never left your form as he slowly circled you, taking in every detail. "Hiding in plain sight, were we?" he mused, his tone teasing yet laced with an edge that hinted at the complexity of your shared past.

Despite the tension crackling in the air between you, you stood your ground, your posture radiating confidence and power. "And what of it, Loki?" you countered, your voice steady and imbued with strength. "Did you expect to find me cowering? Diminished?"

Loki's circling came to a halt, and he faced you, the distance between you charged with an electric anticipation. "On the contrary," he replied, his voice soft yet carrying an undeniable weight, as his fingers went forward, pulling at one of the strings keeping your body hidden from his gaze. "I've always known your strength, your... resilience. It's what makes this game so exhilarating."

The word 'game' hung between you, a reminder of the countless layers and facades both of you had navigated over the eons. This moment, however, stripped away those layers, revealing the raw essence beneath. It was a confrontation, yes, but also a recognition of the profound connection that had always existed between you—a connection fraught with complexity and contradictions.

"Are you certain you wish to engage in another game, Loki?" Your voice, steady and imbued with a quiet power, cut through the charged silence, even as you felt him unbuckle your shoes, his fingers deftly and slowly slipping them from your feet. "I seem to recall your rather... unfortunate defeat last time." The words hung in the air, a challenge and a reminder of past encounters where the balance of power had shifted, leaving Loki on the losing end.

Loki's hands stilled momentarily as he lifted his gaze to yours, a cunning glint sparkling within those deep green eyes. "Ah, but my dear, to dwell on a solitary defeat is to overlook the endless expanse of the game," he mused with a sly, almost serpentine smile. "The allure for me lies not in the victory or the loss, but in the exquisite complexity of the play itself. The interplay of strategy, the artful dance of minds. And," his voice dropped, a velvet caress against the tension hanging in the air, "the delicious possibility of reversing fortunes, which, I assure you, is a prospect I find most... exhilarating."

As he spoke, his fingers slid underneath your heel, leading your leg to rest over his shoulder with a care and precision that contradicted the levity in his voice. Loki laid another feathery touch to your thighs, gripping them tighter as he wedged his face between them, while you held fast to the edge of the counter. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your core.

There was no need to harbor affection for the man to appreciate the artistry his mouth provided. His tongue grazed the surface of your clit and you felt a tremor coursing through your very bones. He delved deeper, his taste encompassing the entirety of your core. As he did, your legs seemed to tighten inadvertently around him, though it posed no barrier to his indulgence. Your cunt clenched and you were swept away as his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pulling you closer onto his awaiting tongue. The surge of familiar emotions within you was overpowering, far too intense for your unprepared body. Your head fell back with a moan as you gave yourself to him in your entirety and Loki groaned, his tongue honing in on your bud as he chased your orgasm. He refused to relent until the heat had filled you whole, filled your soul. You writhed underneath him, hips helplessly buckling. Loki chuckled, a melodic blend of amusement and triumph, resonating with an undercurrent of sly cunning.

“That’s it, darling,” he coaxed as a surge of desire blossomed within you, enough to part your lips into a broken cry. His dark hair peeked between your fingers and his tongue snuck out to lick his lips while his gaze was set on you above him. His hand wandered to your tunic and yanked it away. His thumb grazed your nipple when he returned his mouth to your center, two of his fingers slowly dipping into your glistening heat.

“Loki,” you whimpered, tightening the hold on his hair—he matched your movements, arm securing you to him so forcefully no might on Earth and beyond could have parted you from his lips. He curled his fingers, rubbing that special spot inside of you and your stomach twitched. You felt him grin against your heat, teeth gracing over your sensitive bud, as a tremor ran through your body.

“My tempest darling,” he sighed when he finally pulled his fingers from you, leaving behind such an agonizing feeling of emptiness. You were about to retaliate, when he stood, bringing your body this his, hand running along the length of your thigh before he hoisted it against his hip. “Even if doubt shadows your heart, my dear, believe me, the absence of your taste on my tongue has been an ache most persistent,” Loki declared, his voice weaving together assurance and playful sincerity. One of his hands made quick work of undoing the dress pants of the black suit he was clad in, the other clutching your thigh close—so terribly tight you were certain even the skin of gods could be bruised by his hungry fingers. His lips found yours, softly at first, though through the looming desire burning within, Loki’s control appeared to stray when you bit into his lip, drawing blood. A groan tore from his throat, eyes darkening as he looked down at you, refusing to part from your gaze even as he entered you. Your mouth fell open against his, a silent moan slipping from your lips, his forehead dropping onto yours. He moved then, pulling out barely before he pushed back in so deeply it shook you. Loki had always been the embodiment of wickedness wrapped in the guise of charm; an enigma whose very presence stirred a vicious blend of temptation and sin, drawing all who encounter him into a dance with the devilishly divine.

“How I’ve missed you,” he whispered against the heated skin of your neck, traveling downward to softly kiss along your bared collarbones. His voice was a divinity, dark and rich and soaked with the sweetest of all sins. The emerald green within his eyes reflected the gold surrounding you. One of your hands cradled the back of his neck, fingers catching loose strands of raven hair that had grown so long in the centuries you hadn’t laid your sights on him. Loki held your thigh in a fierce grip, fingers digging further into your flesh with every stroke of his throbbing cock with your heat.

“You swore to kill me, my love,” you gasped as he delivered another harsh thrust, your head fell forward against his shoulder a searing pleasure built within you.

As his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your neck, savoring the salty essence of your being, Loki’s hand traveled from the curve of your thigh, securing you firmly against him at your waist, moving you against him in a refined rhythm. Against the warmth of your skin, he murmured, “To kill you, my little deity, would be akin to consigning a part of my own soul into the abyss.”

A gasp caught in your throat as he thrust into you deeper than before and you collapsed against him, coming with a cry of relief. He continued thrusting into you, arm keeping you secured against him as though you were about to vanish as you had done all those years ago. He lifted your chin, his mouth capturing yours when you felt him jerk inside of you. You felt his warmth spilling into you, his shameless groans filling your ears as he emptied himself within you. Breath mixing with his, you stayed there for a moment—in which the world seemed to narrow down to the space between the two of you, to the silent conversation spoken through glances and the slight tremors in your lungs.

Loki stole another kiss, then, as if breaking from a spell, his expression shifted, his early devotion to you giving way to a more serious, contemplative mien. “Business with you, my tempest darling, had always been a delight most exquisite,” Loki said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on violence. “I trust you’re familiar with the tales of the Celestial Compass, aren’t you?”  he continued, referring to an artifact of immense power and ancient origin, rumored to guide its holder to whatever they sought most in the universe. It was an object that you had kept hidden away, its location known only to you.

The mention of the compass sliced through the tension, a stark reminder of the stakes at play. Loki's presence in your shop, the transformation of your surroundings, the exchange of words—all were mere preludes to this moment.

"Why, Loki?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and defiance as you fixed the tunic he had so carelessly pulled aside. "Why seek the compass now? What is it you desire so fervently to find?"

Loki's smile then was enigmatic, a mask that offered no clear answers. "Ah, but revealing one's desires so openly is a dangerous game, my dear. Let's just say... I seek something that has long eluded me." The ambiguity of his response left you wary, aware that Loki's desires were seldom straightforward and often entwined with greater schemes and hidden agendas. Yet, the acknowledgment of this quest, of his need for the compass, revealed a vulnerability in Loki—a crack in the armor he so carefully maintained.

As Loki awaited your response, the weight of centuries and the anticipation of what was to come hung heavily in the air. The next move was yours to make, in a game that was as much about uncovering truths as it was about concealing them. In response to his inquiry, your reply came not in words, but in the form of a serene smile, a silent echo of your shared past. With a casual flick of your fingers, you vanished into the ether, just as you had done countless centuries before, leaving Loki alone in the confines of what now appeared to be a decrepit shop. Its once vibrant essence faded, reflecting the sudden void your departure had created.

Loki, momentarily taken aback, quickly regained his composure. A laugh, rich with both amusement and a tinge of admiration, escaped him as he reached out to snatch a golden letter materializing out of thin air. The letter, simple yet profound in its message. The words, though brief, carried the weight of eons, a testament to the enduring dance between you two. Loki's gaze lingered on the golden script, a smirk playing on his lips, already plotting his next move in the timeless game between you.

“Farewell, my love.”

[frostdayz]

Bed

Loki x reader

genre: Fluff

summary: You and loki tangled in each others arms and words while laying in bed.

note: Such a shit summary but this is just something small and loki themed because I recently read a long ass fic on ao3 that was a 10/10

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I blinked my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the brightness. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then I felt it—the warmth, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath my cheek. I was curled up against Loki, our legs tangled together under the blankets.

I smiled to myself, savoring the rare moment of peace. Loki wasn’t exactly a morning person, and I had a feeling he was still asleep. Gently, I lifted my head to get a better look at him. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and his face was relaxed, almost boyish in its softness. It was a side of him that few ever got to see.

Unable to resist, I reached up and brushed the stray hair away from his face. My fingers lingered, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He stirred slightly, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Mm, what are you doing?” His voice was thick with sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it sounded.

“Just admiring the view,” I teased, resting my hand on his chest.

He opened one eye, peering at me with a mixture of amusement and mock annoyance. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he remarked, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Maybe it’s because I woke up next to you,” I replied, unable to keep the affection out of my voice.

Loki’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I let out a contented sigh, snuggling against him. “We should do this more often. Just…stay in bed, with no worries, no responsibilities. Just us.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on my back. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But you know as well as I do that our lives are rarely that simple.”

I pouted, though I knew he was right. “Can’t we pretend, just for a little while?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “For you, my love, I’ll pretend all day if you wish.”

I grinned, my heart swelling with warmth at his words. “Then let’s stay here forever,” I declared, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

Loki tightened his hold on me, resting his chin on top of my head. “As you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside our little cocoon of warmth and love feeling miles away. It was a rare and precious moment, one that I wanted to hold onto for as long as I could. In Loki’s arms, everything felt right. The worries and challenges of the world could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just him and me, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet beauty of the morning.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words flowing from my heart without hesitation.

He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice soft but unwavering.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things words could never fully express—a promise, a reassurance, a shared truth. When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” I murmured.

“Forever,” he agreed.

[mazikeenofthelilim]

loki's kinks & headcanons !

tags: 18+ readers only, mentions of slight smut.

orgasm denial : now lets face it, loki will absolutely deny you of any orgasms until he sees that youre an absolute mess for your prince.

"does my little whore need to cum ?" loki mocks with a slight tsk, his fingers pushing slowly into your dripping hole. "i havent even given you my cock yet so not yet, dear." his fingers delayed their motions, pulling themselves out of you and leaving you to clench around air— your hips moving to try and chase his fingers desperately.

overstimulation : now on the other hand, sometimes he has to give his good girl a prize.

"my prince.. i-i cant, no more." you stuttered, your walls clenching around his thick cock as he pushed himself into you roughly.

loki shook his head, his hand grabbing your jaw roughly and turning your head so that you looked him in the eye. "you can and you will. good girls get what they want and this one, had previously stated that she wanted the most so unless the safe word is slipping from those innocent lips, dont tell me no more again."

dirty talk : loki loves to hear himself talk, i guess its a good thing that you love it too.

"so fucking tight." loki muttered, thrusting his hips at a face and punishing pace. "you were born to take this cock. born for the prince to fill you up and fuck you all night long."

public sex : his favorite place that you both have done it is definitely on odins throne.

"loki !" you squealed, the man in questions hands were pining you down on the hard concrete. "what- what if odin walks in." you moaned out, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.

"its all apart of the thrill sweetheart. i can tell by the way youre gushing around your princes cock that you love the thought of odin finding you with your messy hair getting fucked by his supposed son on his thorne." loki never gave up on his pace.

breeding : it goes without question.

"want me to fuck an heir into your belly, sweetheart. get you swollen and round with my child." loki bit at your neck, his balls tightening as he felt his orgasm approaching.

"please ! yes, yes, yes !" you chanted, your orgasm close to its peak as well.

loki smirked devilishly, "so fucking take it."

.