#loki makes me so unwell

[seasicksilver]

mischievous barbie

[mercuryislove]

I've been playing persona with my bestie almost every single night since p3r came out and we just finished p5r last night and now I'm like. what's going to fill this arcana-based void in my heart. what else could possibly be the means by which all is revealed

[toestalucia]

good morning i thought about the latest story update a second too long again

[gloriousburden]

Spiraling at the fact that Loki is so tall. Like yeah, obviously he is… but I’m thinking so hard about it and it’s driving me insane… grrrrrrrrr I need him

The way he makes everyone look tiny.. I am unwell

He is so long

[athena-xiii]

Joe Locke was right, this is the best episode.

The costumes, the TIME SLIPPING, RIO, Lilia’s “miraculous transformation.” This episode made me warm up to Jen, seeing her with Lilia in the tunnels. Lilia’s end was as beautiful and graceful as she was. Like I’m devastated we lost her, but if she had to go, I’m glad it was with acceptance and peace.

As a Wanda lover, seeing Billy’s identity crisis hurt me. Also Agatha wdym MAYBE??? I want her back so bad T^T But Agatha almost calling herself Wanda’s ex? Blatantly saying she’s not straight? Love it

But seriously, seeing all of the “gaps” make sense was so satisfying. And having recently gotten around to watching Loki season 2, I am like 90% certain that the Queen was properly time slipping. You’re so right Lilia, the passage of time is an illusion.

Anyway I am mentally unwell about this show

[homesickn]

Darling.

Loki x reader — sick!fic, established relantionship.

No warnings, just fluff and comfort.

Loki takes care of you when you're sick and makes sure you feel better. He's really soft.

“I feel disgusting,” you say. The words coming out slurred as you struggled to breathe with your congested nose.

“Darling?” Loki asks, concerned. “Can I do anything to help?”

You don't want him to see you like this, in fact, you've been trying to ignore your sickness for a long time. 

You feel useless, you don't want to exist, the only acceptable thing to your mind is the thought of going to sleep, the aching pressure around your eyes begs to be closed. You're almost crying from shame.

“Darling,” Loki reaches around you, embracing his arms around your figure, even as you protest, he lifts you up in his arms. “You can't work like this. I know you're sick.” He watches your puffy face, all due to your crying and sneezing.

“No, I'm not, I'm okay,” your voice rough as you lie, fighting not to cough with your pained throat. “I'm not sick, I can do things just fine.” 

He still keeps you there, now making sure your face rests against his shoulder as he takes you to the kitchen, already preparing some tea for you two.

“Have you taken some medicine?” He asks and you keep your face hidden, ignoring the question. “You didn't?

“Don't be mad…” You begin.

“Why would I be mad, darling? Why would you not take your meds?”

“I don't wanna be sick, and I didn't know which ones to take, I took a pill but it didn't have any effect so I thought I'd just wait some more.” You're scared you'll sound pathetic to that, but Loki only rubs your back gently. 

Loki could sense the effort it took for you to talk, he keeps a concerned look on you as you only rest further to his chest. 

This is better, he thinks. She's accepting my help. My love.

Loki had a secret under his sleeve that could work, he could apply his healing magic to your tea — the magic his mother would give to both him and Thor when they got sick, on their younger days, the spell she taught him.

He remembers those days with nostalgic care, he keeps them in the depths of his heart for when his mind needs some kind memories, these parts are specially occupied with you, now. He misses his mother, but he can express the love he received in a new way.

You're shivering under his hands, so he conjures your fluffy, heavy blanket for you, covering you till your neck. 

He makes a mental reminder to prepare a warm bath as it's early in the evening, it'd help you feel better, and then he'd make sure you wear some warm clothes so you don't get any fevers.

“Love?” He asks you, your eyes are fighting to stay open but they're moist with tears from the cold. 

“Can't breathe,” you whine a bit in pain, closing your eyes and trying to rest but feeling the strong pang in your head.

“I'll make it feel better, love. I'm here,” He tells you, giving you a kiss. He was glad your temperature was normal as he felt it against his skin.

You cringe as his lips touch yours. “Don't kiss me… I'm gross,” your voice goes whinier than you wish for again, which he finds adorable.

“You can't pass me anything, my love. I'm a frost giant, I wouldn't get sick with mortal germs.” He gives you a kiss again.

“But I'm still gross though.”

“I could never find you anything close to gross, when I see you like this, I only wish to nurture you back to health, and make sure you're safe and loved, just as you deserve.” You try to hide your smile against his chest now, he can feel it, and it makes him beam with pride at making you feel a little better. “I hate to see you unwell.”

The tea is ready, he turns your body a little in his arms so you're facing the teapot as he makes two cups for both of you.

He makes sure you see the green sparkles leaving his hands as he puts your tea.

“I hope I'm making this right,” he blushes. “It's the spell our mother would pour on our teas when we were children, Thor thought it was disgusting.”

“Very good, really,” you joke around, smiling at him. “One of the few opinions I have, and little Thor thought it was disgusting.”

Loki gives you a tight lipped smile, but still smiles with his eyes too. He shakes his head.

“I think the magic is flavorless, the problem was just that Thor never really liked tea, and we just discovered a long time after,” he smiles at you. “So, my love, as I know you like this tea, I make sure everything is safe and good to your tastes.” He chuckles and you feel his chest move with the sound.

So you stay there, in his arms, watching his magic with a certain wonder, you'd never tire from this, he always loves the way you look at his magic, the way you look at him. It was never about the magic powers he carries, but the way you're the only person to look at him while he does it and appreciate him, just him, you like it when he does anything, you're the only one to look at him with this clear admiration your eyes always hold for him.

He quietly begins to hum a song for your ears, carrying you to the couch.

You move to take the tea and drink it. 

Loki touches your temple, he makes his fingers blue and —consequently, a little colder, just enough for your body to accept, reaching your forehead and keeping it there as you sip your tea.

He notices you're going quieter, just appreciating his acts, not really forcing yourself to speak anymore. He's glad, it makes him happy to see your body sliding slightly closer to him with each sip, probably almost too sleepy to notice. 

He conjures you the correct medicine, and you take it. With him kissing your forehead as you do so, like a little reward.

“I'd never shame you for being sick, you know,” He says, breaking the silence of the room. “I never want to see you feeling like you can't tell me again, even as your body starts to feel weak, even if the symptoms are just starting, tell me.”

“I will. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not mad,” he reinforces, quickly booping your nose, gently smiling at you. You stay quiet, he accepts that.

“How about a bath now?” The tea was warm like a balm to your throat.

You don't respond but complain with sounds of disapproval at having to move from the comfort of the couch, from under the cozy blanket.

“You'll feel better,” he comforts you, caressing your skin as he speaks in a low tone so as not to hurt your head. “I promise, just trust me.” 

He wraps his strong arms around your legs to push your entire body close to his, gluing you to him as he calmly princess-carries you to the bathroom. Patiently taking the time to hold you as he magically —to be quicker— makes the water warm enough for you and your tired body.

He helps you through the bath, bringing some things to make the bath time more relaxing like different soaps and a pink bath bomb.

“Bath bomb?” You laugh a little, glad the stinging in your head stopped a bit. You point to the product he held.

“It's fun, and I'm not used to these midgardian bath entertainments.” He gives you a kind smile and allows the comfort to surround you two as you take the bath together. 

He carefully washes your hair for you, massaging your scalp, hoping to show all his love through his fingertips and gentle caresses.

He moves down to your shoulders, your neck, pressing a bit harder in certain spots, then he slides down to your back with tender care. You hold your breath, and leave some moans of delight as your aching body feels the blessed touch.

“Are you feeling better, love?” He asks, you hum to agree, not wanting to ruin the moment. He muffles a laugh and keeps his loving touches.

Loki runs his hands across the other parts of your body with extra patience and passion, ignoring how sexual it could seem, he knows you're not wishing for it now. He still keeps a longer time washing you, and pressing his hands on your breasts, your chest, your stomach. Brushing among your thighs, anywhere he could show his love and feel your skin close to his.

He kisses your jawline, and moves your head a little to kiss you. The whole time was filled with loving little kisses, some all across your face, some on your lips as he couldn't have enough of your mouth, or enough of you.

The bath makes you feel clean and relaxed, you're allowing yourself to finally succumb to the peaceful affection he's showing you. It's almost overwhelming, you never thought you could have something like this, neither did he.

When the bath's over, Loki exits first to grab a fluffy, dry towel to wrap your body on. You got up and he immediately wrapped you in so you wouldn't face the brutal chilly air of getting out of the bath.

He takes you to the bedroom, your clothes are already on the bed. You tremble to think of removing the towel and facing the cold, but Loki makes sure that doesn't happen.

He puts you on a cozy green sweater, kissing your clothed chest as he's finished. Matching the sweater, he puts on you some warm pajama pants, then proceeds to kiss your stomach. 

He puts your socks on you, and gives a kiss to each of your ankles, almost reverently. Looking up at you with wonder, rubbing your legs. You almost weep at the sight, feeling overly emotional. 

After he's sure you're warm, he lets you decide on what to do next. You just want to sleep.

He turns off the lights of the house, and dims the one by the bedside table. He reaches for his book, this is one he's been reading without you, he thinks it's a bit too uninteresting to be shared, but now it might fit perfectly for the purpose of getting you to sleep.

You two created a habit of sharing your stories together, you love to sit around while he just reads for you. And whenever you read a story you really like, you get extra giddy to tell him every single detail about it, he loves it when you do so.

He knows how much you love his voice, and in moments like this, in which you need less loud noises, you can't help but pay even more attention to how soft his voice is as he speaks. You could listen to it for days, and thankfully, you can really listen to it all day, for days, he's yours.

He cozies you two under the sheets, the only light being the one by his side, so he can read to you, he makes sure it doesn't bother your eyes.

He holds your body on top of his, keeping a light hold not to pressure your skin, allowing you to rest your head on his neck, unbothered by the little sniffles of the remains of your sickness. He'll make sure to check some more spells later —unharming to humans, to be certain you get even better health soon after you drift off to sleep.

“I love you,” you say. He stiffens a little because it comes unexpectedly, then he relaxes. After all this time, Loki's still unused to these words.

He still gets surprised.

His expression softens and he can only hope you feel all the love radiating off of him.

“I love you, darling. Now rest, you'll feel better as soon as you wake up.” 

He begins reading to you from where he stopped, taking pauses a few times to explain some details to you, quietly. You pay attention to the sound of his voice, and his chest moving under you with each word he speaks, until you drift off to a comfortable night of sleep.

This is my apology for not having posted anything this week because I, once again, got sick, so I wrote this! Oh to have a Loki taking care of me.

I hope it can bring some comfort to you all!

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 (I don't know if it's ok to tag in a sick!fic but it's ok if you don't feel comfortable with it ♡)

[clusterpuppy]

I almost forgot to add Thor’s facepaint to this art (Thor’s design for this au belongs to @kipcobblestone )

I’m not super proud of this, cause I drew it rn while feeling unwell but it’s Norse so please take it. Loki is the most annoying, but most cunty wine aunt that the nine realms have ever seen

Promise when I get the motivation I’ll make a bigger post about my au 😭😭 please believe me

[asgardwinter]

one hug, just one hug

summary | How do you ask for one hug, just one hug from a loved one without sounding pathetic?

warnings | sadness? idk, crying, just sad feelings, i wrote this just because i sort of needed it

word count | 696

author’s note | yeah, I’m still alive and all… hope you like this little surprise and quite comforting blurb (yeah, i’m not in a good mental place right now, but it is what it is). i still don’t know if i’ll be back for good but i really missed y’all and writing for this past time, hope you still like this. also, my English got a lot worse because of my lack of writing. anyway, uni is killing me but i graduate in december so we’re going to the end.

There’s always those days when you wished someone would just guess the turmoil that was taking place inside your head. The random wishes to just break down and cry into someone's shoulder, but not really having to ask for that. The need of support, of someone being there, but being too afraid of going after that.

Or maybe you were just too shy, too afraid of being perceived as a human with that need.

With the need to take up some space from other people’s lives.

There was no saving people that day, no troublesome missions and grenades exploding, weird guns almost taking you to another place if that existed. But you were just so fucking exhausted ir was like you took down the whole HYDRA scheme just by yourself.

You closed the door carefully to prevent anyone from thinking you were unwell. Fuck, that was another problem: how would they guess you were unwell if you did everything to cover up?

Walking towards your bed you just sat down for a second, only a brief second before the tears started coming non stop, dripping down your cheeks and creating a pool on your pants. You’ll need to drink water after that. A soft knock took you slightly out of the sadness haze. Just slightly, now that the tears started to drop they wouldn’t stop really soon.

“Hey! Love?” That voice you loved so much but didn’t really want to see you like that asked for you. “Is everything all right?”

The problem with Loki was that as soon as the words left your mouth he’d know something was weird, no matter how much effort you put into making it sound like the normal you.

You breathed. More than five times and still couldn’t feel like it would break in the very beginning of the sentence.

“I’m…” You breathed again. And just one more time to be sure (you weren’t sure). “I’m good. Just tired.”

You didn’t know if it was the little keen tone in the end of the phrase or the way you paused almost dramatically, but he knew. And you knew he was aware of your situation. You just could hope you had locked the door…

He opened it. Yeah, it wasn’t locked at all.

“What happened?” His worried green eyes just kept searching for injuries and anything that he could see that was causing you pain. Unfortunately your mind wasn't detachable yet, but you could work with Banner to figure something out.

“I…” There were no words to explain it besides the loud sob and the tears that continued their waterfall.

And then he just… did it.

Hugged you closely, tightly and everything you could ask for. His hands ran through your head and you felt quite supported. The weight of his arms closing around you was what you needed at the moment. ANd, you had no idea if after minutes or hours, the tears stopped coming, the salty water dried in your cheeks and your heart stopped beating like if you ran a marathon.

Loki waited for you to pull away and eventually you did, avoiding his eyes because you were sure you looked a mess.

“You look pretty even when you cry.” He said out of the blue making a small incredulous smile appear on your face. “Yes, but I still prefer this one.” His hands caressed your cheeks softly.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “You have no idea how I needed this.”

“I believe I have.” The hurt in his eyes was something you knew quite well. “I just wish I didn’t have to guess and almost invade your room to help you.”

“I can’t ask for that, for the support.”

“But with me, you must ask for it if needed. I’m not always the most present one for you.”

“You’re perfect, not in the non flawed way but in the we make a good team way.” You said with your hands resting on his lap. “You do way better than you imagine.”

“I hope so.” Loki leaned in for a light kiss, just to make your heart full with love this time. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[punch-love]

2, 7, 10, 15, 16

greedily takes up five of the options

I'm actually going to answer these for both lokius and spideypool to be fair to what fandom you read for and also to what I'm reading for right now.

2. 🔁 A fic you’ve re-read several times

There's a clear theme in these.

i could show you by jilliancares

I think this was the first real gender-affirming trans porn I had ever read and kept on re-reading. It's so good. It's very hot and I love everything about the smut and the dynamics but it's also just - a trans guy talking about oral sex and his disappointing experiences with it and there's a lot of intimacy in the way that's handled. It's just very real so the fantasy of it is even realer. I have read this one many, many times.

Turnabout loop - Mirilya

The Mobius coochie fic. It's great. I could say that I love the idea of Loki using his magic for shapeshifting his partner in bed and the genderbending of it, which I do. It's also just hot. Objectively. I think there needs to be more fics with this exact thesis of Mobius getting eaten out. I support it.

7. 💯A fic that makes you think #writergoals

morning in the burned house by antivenom

Just a really stunning character study and piece of prose. It's such a complicated, nuanced approach to Wade Wilson as a character and his relationship with Spider-Man. It has my favorite approach to a backstory I've seen for in the fandom. This just really sits with him as a character and explores the side roads and back alleys of his brain and the reason he is who he is. It's beautiful. I think anything that sits with you afterward is something I am inspired by, and this sits with me.

The Shapeshifter's Guide to Butt Stuff by comrade_bucket

I just recommended the first part of this series (and the whole series is #writergoals) but this one is so conceptual, so out there, so fucking weird and strange and beautiful that every time I read it I'm struck at what a piece of art it is. The way this work addresses genderfludity, god-hood, the human experience, love, gender conformity, and compromise is just so wonderful. I would love to write something as strange and shocking and daring as this! Again, both installments of this series including The-Infinity-Year-Old Virgin are both something I love to re-read and also get inspired by every time. The endings on both of these are something I've taken notes on.

10. 👽 A fic that isn’t prose (poetry, text fic, etc.)

I got really into the Wickerman tag the other day and this AMV is one of my favorite things I've ever seen.

Lovely Day (Good as Hell) [Favid] periru3, Tafadhali

hare toss, check my nails, baby how you feeling? feeling good as hell!

15. 📚 A fic you wish you could display on your bookshelf

They're both by the same author, surprise. (I think it's funny that @primewritessmut wrote two masterpieces in my favorite genres.) I also have told them before that I would book bind them both, and I am extra serious about doing it for the second one.

Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse by zerospoons_onlyknives

I love zombies. They're my favorite horror genre and I have read and watched as much of it as possible but it's so rare to find the good stuff because no one goes far enough. (Prime goes farther.) It's dark, demented, violent, gloriously unwell and erotic. It's not a love story, it's something so much more interesting, and each chapter I got to read in advanced had more and more tangled in it. The ending is unbelievably glorious. It was one of those things that I was like "this feels written for me" and it wasn't (and it kind of was) but I enjoyed it so much. It deserves to be bound in a book that looks suspiciously like human skin.

Midori Sour - oprime

This is the hallmark rom-com bait and switch psychological thriller family drama slice of life romance of all time. It's so good. It really has no business being as good as it is. The idea is so fun and the dynamics are great and the setting and side-characters are so lived in but the underlayers of this. I want this book bound so I can just re-read sections and underline the lines that stick through onto the other side. I love this thing so much. It's so human and compelling and deliciously deep. The depth that Prime goes in on with this one is just unbelievable. I love it very much. I would bind it in green leather and put a little fruity drink in the middle of it and highlight the whole thing in a green neon with red on the cherries.

16. 💞 A fic that led to you making friends with the author

I think it's funny that these are both series.

Bad Things - wanderingflame

I was so, so obsessed with this when I first read it. I remember sitting in a car outside a thrift store just binging through it (and then I re-read it at least two times.) I also think @in-my-loki-feels is the first person I have ever asked to write inspired work for (and also, found out we both share the same feelings on inspired work lmao) because I was just so enchanted by this story. It's so fresh, thoughtful, compelling, and just the right hint of dark. Their passion for these characters and the nuanced groves of their natures is just - god, it's so good. We have a very "writers who like each other's work" friendship in a way I really appreciate.

gunpowder triology - periodicallypuzzled

It's rare for me to find a writer with such a personality through their work. I couldn't get enough of this series when I first read it - the humor, the personality, the characterization, the heart juxtaposition with the grit. I don't often say "I really want to know the person who wrote this" but I remember thinking that after reading that. @periodically-puzzled read something of mine and offered to exchange discord handles and after that we became friends. I should also re-read this, now that I'm thinking about it again.

[snakesandstone]

Anyways I think the thing that makes loki and sigyn hit different to other tragic love stories for me is that they know this is a tragedy. Like, Ragnarök seems to be pretty common knowledge, sigyn knows how this ends, she knows exactly what will happen. And she still stays. And the whole snake torture cave is an indicator of just how loyal she is, sure, but so is everything else before that because she's not mentioned in the prophecy, she could just walk away and she'd be fine but she doesn't, she won't, she can't. And in other tragedies I've seen the main characters at least have the hope that it will all be fine, even if the audience knows better, that they'll make it through together and walk off into the sunset but loki and sigyn don't even have that. All they have is each other and all they can hope for is just one more day. I amn. Unwell

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 28 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 29

Summary : Loki knows how to get rid of Atrishia, you receive a call from Captain.

Warning: 18+, no Smut in this chapter, HUGE Canon divergence(Just me making shit up),sex, mention of stalking, mention of psychological torture, mention of physical and sexual assault, angst, insecurities, ptsd, self deprecating behaviour, panic attack, soft precious bean loki, polite bean Loki

When Loki returned to you he found you pacing in the room, you looked unwell to him as if you were suffering from a mortal illness of some sort.

"What is it, what is happening to me Loki..can you make me get in touch with Atrishia please? I need to see her or I'll go crazy" he sighed you blabbed without pausing for a breath.

"Sit down on the bed y/n" you stomped your feet on the ground like a petulant child and crossed your arms as you glared at him,

"You don't want me to see her do you? You are just jealous of how gorgeous she is" you let out a laughter to mock him so he sighed, your antics were kind of adorable though.

"I should film this..norns I don't have a phone" you continued to glare at him so he walked towards you and placed his hand on your shoulder to push you towards the edge of the bed, once he made you sit down on the bed, he placed his finger on your chin and made you look at him.

"Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me now?" He asked you sternly so you gave him a glare again.

"No..why should I ? I hate you so much Loki, I won't listen to the man that I hate" he sighed as you said that. That was the thing with this particular love potion, not only did it made one obsess over the person who had used the potion but also made them feel complete contempt and hatred for the person they were in love with previously. Her plan must have been to cause the reaction in him so he'd leave you and go to her, thankfully it didn't work on him.

"You don't hate me sweetheart, I love you, you are my best friend, I am yours, remember?" He cooed gently and your eyes teared up, you were trying to fight the potion mentally and you were doing so good because even the strongest of the gods could not survive the effects of it. Thor was the perfect example.

"Then why do I hate you now Loki, why do I hate my best friend?" You sobbed a little so he cupped your cheeks and leaned down to kiss your forehead, your arms wrapped around his neck and as soon as his scent reached your senses you took a deep breath and all of a sudden you didn't feel so bad again, the closer he was to you the better you felt.

"What is happening to me lo, why am I hurting you like this?" He looked at you shocked as he noticed the tenderness in your voice, when he looked in your eyes he saw the same love and adoration he was used to seeing in you.

"You really do love me princess, you love me selflessly and wholeheartedly, this is sort of a miracle, no men or gods have ever been able to snap out of the effects of the potion without the antidote, but you can do it, how are you doing it?" He asked softly as he wiped your tears.

"It's just when you are close to me I don't feel so bad about you" he kissed you on the lips for a fleeting moment before he pulled away from you. The look was gone and replaced with extreme hatred towards him all over again, he waved his fingers and there was a vial in his hand filled with a greenish liquid.

"You are going to poison me aren't you? You just love killing people don't you" his eyes teared up as you said that, he knew you didn't mean any of it but it still hurt to hear you speak to him that way.

He grabbed your chin and made you drink half of the liquid and a few moments later the fog cleared and you looked around as everything got back to normal.

"Loki?" You looked at him so he smiled and his fingers brushed against your cheeks in a caressing manner "What the hell happened?"

"Love potion, the mead she brought with her was laced with the potion, she attempted to make me fall in love with her but sadly Thor and as well as you consumed the mead"

"Thor is in love with her as well?"

"For now yes, I need to go make him drink this before he does something really childish"

"Okay" he noticed the sullen look on your face and his heart clenched, he knew you'd feel horrible and slightly embarrassed about it now.

"I will be back soon, are you feeling alright?" You nodded as he questioned you. Once he left you stormed straight towards the bathroom and leaned over the toilet as you felt nauseous, once you were done hurling you brushed your teeth, took a shower and came back to the bed to lie down.

Love potions existed in other realms? How and why? How many people like Atrishia were misusing it? Your eyes welled up again as you thought about the things you had said to him while you were strung on the potion, how could you just hate him like that, how could you feel anything but love for that precious man?

You sobbed into your pillow until you fell asleep, the next time you woke you had his arm wrapped around you while he cuddled you, his eyes opened as he felt you moving, sitting up you moved away from him so he sat as well.

"Is Thor okay?"

"He is now, gave him the antidote. For a god he sure is lightweight darling" you smiled as he said that but he noticed the sadness on your face, you weren't even looking at him.

"Talk to me princess.. I'm right here" he whispered softly as one of his hands curled around your neck and he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek.

"How could I…just hate you like that lo?" You sobbed like a child and his eyes welled up at the sight but there was a small comforting smile on his face.

"You didn't, you did your best my sweetheart, you listened to me even when you felt such contempt for me, you came back to me even without use of the antidote. You, a powerless mortal, fought it better than the God of thunder could, you should have seen him, he was losing it completely" you chuckled as he said that but you still felt awful about it.

"I didn't mean anything i said lo..i didn't want to hurt you..you know that right baby" a small sob escaped your lips again.

"I know I know that okay? Come here" he pulled you on his lap and held you tightly in his embrace to calm your broken sobs, he despised seeing you this way. His hands caressed your back gently and he rocked you back and forth until the sobbing had faded.

"Why didn't it work on you lo? You drank the mead and how did you know what it was?" you asked him as you pulled away to look at him, you kissed his forehead and then his pretty nose before you pecked his lips, you just wanted to love him now after being so awful to him, you were immensely grateful the potion didn't work on him but you still wanted to know why.

"Well when I was learning about the different forms of potions and its effects from mother, it came up once and i remembered it, someone once had tried to use it on mother and she always warned me to look for the signs, she's the one who taught me to make the antidote"

"That is some witch shit" he chuckled as you said that

"It is a bit more complex than that, the realm of Vanaheim is known for dark magic and as soon as I saw the effect the mead had on you and Thor i just knew something wasn't right" he said.

"Why didn't it work on you?"

"I don't know but I guess my mind is too strong to be fazed so easily, why do you think it took Thanos a year to break me?" You placed your hand on his cheeks as you kissed him softly, a year of pain and torture, since the conversation he had with Atrishia and him telling you that he didn't remember the last two months made you wonder what kind of monstrosity they had inflicted upon him during that period, he didn't deserve any of it.

"Well I'm glad it didn't work on you lo, I can't imagine you feeling that way about me"

"Never have to worry about it darling" he smiled and it made you smile as well but your face fell again as you thought about the situation.

"I don't want her to stay here anymore Loki, I don't know what else she is going to do to you and I don't want her to hurt you in anyway "

"She can't hurt me darling but she did harm you and I won't let it go, nobody gets to hurt my princess like that" you let out a moan as he whispered in your ear then he pressed his lips on the side of your neck, sucking ever so gently. As much as you loved the sight of him being so riled up for you, you didn't want him to hurt her, you sort of understood what she was going through.

"Loki?"

"Mmm"

"I just want her to leave, nothing else, I do feel bad about her situation and I sort of feel responsible"

"You're not responsible for this darling"

"I know..I just feel awful..i have been in that situation and it's heartbreaking" his brows furrowed as you said that.

"Tell me about it so i would understand because right now I only feel this extreme anger towards her"

"You'd have to become my best friend and forget that you're my boyfriend for me to tell you this okay?" He raised his brow and sighed before he reluctantly agreed.

"Should you be sitting on my lap for that? Friends on midgard indulge in such a manner?"

"I'll pretend you're a girl, you're the prettiest thing to exist so that is not very far fetched " he rolled his eyes playfully as you said that,

"Fine..tell me the story"

"Well I'm not saying it's the same thing but when I was in the first year of college..there was a teacher of mine .."

"A teacher?"

"Mmhhm ..well it's not that I was completely obsessed with him..at first i didn't even notice him like I never noticed any other men out there" he chuckled as you said that

"What changed your mind about him?"

"Well I had a sexy dream about him, you know how dreams are sometimes right?" He nodded as you said that even though the thought of you having a sex dream about another man bothered him deeply, he kept it to himself, he was just your friend in the moment.

"I get that"

" After that dream I developed a tiny school girl crush on him, he was really soft spoken but he looked the opposite, very manly and rugged, he was a war veteran so he had that oomph factor going on for him where if you looked at him when he wasn't teaching or doing something else he'd just seem very tortured and brooding, staring into the distance"

"Did you always have a thing for the tortured ones?"

"Mmmhm maybe..okay stop interrupting me" you playfully slapped on his cheek and he gasped but didn't say anything "Good boy, okay so he obviously looked very sexy.."

"I don't like this story–" you pressed your finger on his lips as he spoke,

"Shhhh .. everytiime he looked my way i felt squeamish and nervous but also good in a way and i built this whole fantasy about him in my head"

"Still don't like it"

"Then I found out that he was married "

"That makes me feel better " you smiled as he said that.

"Everytime his wife would come around I just felt worse than before you know, I mean I had no right to feel that way but I still did.. it wasn't the fact that the man I fancied wasn't available, it bothered me of course but what irked me more was that some other woman was getting to live the fantasy I wanted to live"

"What is it that you're trying to say here?"

"I'm trying to say that you were engaged to this woman, she may have thought of you as her future husband, and I'm pretty sure she fantasized about you two ..you know..doing it..i mean look at you, you ooze sex from every pore of your skin" he shook his head slightly before he spoke

"Agreed but please do not put such images about her in my head"

"All I'm saying is, she may not have been in love with you but your death must have been heartbreaking for her and then seeing that you were alive and well must have brought that hope back and she came all this way only for you to tell her that you were in love with another woman must have been soul crushing for her, the life that she fantasized about was taken out of her hands by some woman she didn't even know existed"

He looked at you dumbfounded as you said that, he never thought about it so deeply, he didn't think Atrishia ever felt that way about him, the engagement was a political arrangement between the families but maybe you were right about all of this and he didn't want to be harsh to her, breaking her heart was the harshest thing he had ever done and that was saying something because he had done a lot of awful things in this long life.

"Can I be your lover again?" He asked you so you nodded and he immediately kissed you deeply and passionately, he did feel bad about her situation but it was the right thing to do, he knew he wouldn't have been happy with her, the only reason he agreed for the marriage was to gain the approval of his father, he was fortunate that fate drove him to you and he wasn't going to hurt you or allow her to do the same to you ever again, sure she meant no harm to you this time, the mead was solely for him to consume, but he knew very well that she won't hesitate to do so if she finds out that you were the one who had taken his heart.

She wasn't as kind as you were.

"You have the kindest soul of all, you know that?" He mumbled in your mouth and it made you smile.

"You deserve the best lo, i just want to be the best for you"

Loki knew he had to confront Atrishia so he went to her room and gave it two knocks, her chambermaid opened the door and bowed down at him which immediately made him feel off because she was just a mortal like you and Atrishia must have taught them to do it like this. As he went inside he found her sitting on the Ottoman in the balcony, she had a night gown on and was reading her book, as soon as she felt his presence she turned towards him,

"Prince Loki, what brought you to me?" He walked around the Ottoman that was set in the middle of the balcony, grabbed her book and sat down facing her, she had a smirk on her face, she knew what she had done and she was assured it had worked on him.

"What is your play here Atrishia?" She looked at him a bit shocked and confused as he said that. She was scorned by the rejection, he understood that but she had no right to do this, the love he didn't feel for her couldn't have been forced, not even through external forces.

"What are you accusing me of?"

"You know well what I am referring to, do you not?" She let out a small yelp in frustration.

"How could it not work? It worked on your brother"

"And what was your plan here? You wished to make us both fall for you and then what?"

"I only wished for you to fall for me Loki, you have no understanding of my plight here and how much it pains me to know that you aren't mine anymore" she huffed as she said that

"I may not understand that but you need to accept that i was never yours to begin with and I sure do know that a woman like you shouldn't be stooping to such levels. You are a princess and a reputed one at that, princes from other realms would get on their knees for you once they find out you're not bethroted to anyone" he stood up as he was starting to get frustrated by her childish play here.

"But I want you Prince Loki" she grabbed his hand and looked right into his eyes. She looked like a spoiled princess that has never been refused for anything in her life which might have been true in her case.

"Why? Where did this love come from all of a sudden? I remember our engagement very well, this is the longest we have even conversed with each other" he raised his voice and her eyes welled up even more.

"It was me, I pleaded with father for the compromise" He looked at her shocked as she said that "I saw you Prince Loki, on the battlefield, in Vanaheim, my sister couldn't take her eyes off Thor but I? I had my eyes on you since that very moment, I went to father and pleaded with him to ask for your hand in marriage because the moment I saw you I knew I'd always be in love with you Prince Loki" his eyes widened a little at the response, her voice sounded sincere and he wondered what would have happened if she had revealed this before, he was starving for love and appreciation and probably would have jumped on the chance to be fed with it.

"Why didn't you tell me then?"

"Because I wanted you to fall for me as well and I had hoped it would happen after the wedding but everything changed so suddenly and all of it was taken away from me" she started sobbing and he didn't know what to do to console her, a part of him didn't want to believe that she was truly in love with him but her emotions seemed genuine.

"I am not an Asgardian you must have heard" he told her stoically so she looked up at him.

"I did, I heard of your heritage"

"I know lady Atrishia that you are under the assumption that you are truly in love with me but it's mere infatuation, we have not spent enough time with each other to fall so deeply in love, what you experienced that day was perhaps lust, those feelings you had when you saw me were nothing but carnal, if you were to see my natural appearance i promise you wouldn't want me so desperately any longer" his eyes teared up as he said that, before he met you he never listened to his heart this way, was never in tune with his inner self but somehow you had evoked such senses in him, he just knew Atrishia wasn't in love with him, she was in love with his appearance, the appearance that wasn't his to begin with and was given to him to hide his true horrifying features.

"Show me then, show me your jotun side and see for yourself that my love will not waiver for you" she said proudly so he took a deep breath.

"I need you to leave Atrishia, right now, I need you to go and never think of me again" he unhooked his arm from her grip and started to walk away but she got up and followed him.

"What does this woman have that I don't, what other qualities does she possess that I do not Prince Loki?" She raised her voice so he looked at the two other women in the room and hinted at them to leave. When they left he turned to look at her and slowly morphed into his giant form.

Her face went pale and eyes widened in shock as he turned a foot taller, his skin went from the smooth blemish free texture to rough steel blue in color, his nose had become sharper and the burning ruby eyes made her take a step back, she placed a hand on her mouth as his flowing long hair disappeared and his bald skull protruded.

The tunic he had on was ripped to shreds, the pants barely hanging on his giant body. His skin was covered in elongated scales from head to toe and as he took a step towards her she took five steps behind until she was pressed against the glass door of the balcony. The fear was evident in her eyes and it made him chuckle.

"Are you not going to say anything now?" Even when he spoke his voice had gotten deeper and rougher than his usual soft tone.

"Prince Loki?" She mumbled in her mouth as if she couldn't believe it was him, as if he was merely Playing a cruel joke on her.

"I am here..this must remind you of the monster your mother warned you of since you were a child?" She started to weep again as he said that.

"You don't have to be this way, you don't have to look like this if you don't want to Prince Loki" she said in a comforting tone but it felt as if a hot sharp knife was plunged into his heart.

"I wish I wasn't like this but I am, this is who I am and I can not change that"

A few hours has passed since Loki has left to go see Atrishia, in the evening as you stepped out in the living room you saw the commotion there, every Avenger was there as they wanted to see off Lady Atrishia, you couldn't believe she was leaving. Thor was there too and he seemed sick but he didn't appear to be lovesick anymore.

You quietly walked towards Loki, he had an Asgardian tunic on which was different from the one he had on before.

"What happened? Why is she leaving? What did you say to her?" You whispered to him so he looked at you and smiled, you could see how upset Dalia seemed by the development, she was probably already on her next plan to introduce Loki as an Avenger to the public.

"Showed her my true self, scared her off quite a bit, she tried to convince me that I didn't have to look that way if I didn't want to but I shut her down"

You looked at him shocked as he said that, there was a small smile on his face but you could tell he was sad about it. He had a hard time accepting his heritage, he didn't need other people to affirm those insecurities too. Loki told you that the reason she didn't visit him when he had learned of his heritage was because she was afraid he would turn into a frost giant, later she had heard from the locals that Prince Loki looked nothing like the Frost giants on Jotunheim, he still had his long hair and his appearance was pretty much the same, he just seemed blue, when she proudly declared that she'd love him no matter what she wasn't really expecting him to turn into an actual giant.

She was leaving because he showed her how his real self looked? At Least you were right about her not actually being in love with him. You looked at him again and you knew you'd have to show him how much you adored his big blue side sooner or later, you knew you had to do something to take his mind off it and make him accept that he was beautiful no matter what, he was pretty because he had a beautiful soul in there that would never change, no matter how many shapes he change into, his soul would stay the same and you were in love with who he was and not what he was.

Before you could say anything to him or comfort him, you saw a man approach you with a phone in his hand so you grabbed it,

"Y/n? It's Steve" you cleared your throat as you heard Captain's voice.

"Hello Captain.. What can I do for you?"

"You have done enough y/n" you squeezed your eyes as he said that he must not have found Bucky, you were going to be in a lot of trouble.

"Found him..found Bucky, bringing him back to the tower"

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Note : Atrishia is gone atleast, sometimes people fall for the outer appearance and think they are actually in love. Smh . I mean i don't blame her for lusting after this

Taglist

@annoyingsweetsstranger  @mcufan72  @nixymarvelkins  @stupidthoughtsinwriting  @fictive-sl0th  @eleniblue  @violethaze  @anukulee  @ladymischief11  @12-pm-510  @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute  @pics-and-fanfics  @daddylokisqueen  @olivertwistrabbit  @blog-the-lilly  @prettylittlepluviophile  @vanilla-daydreaming  @somewiseguy  @yaaamadaa-blog  @dragonmurray  @elthreetimes  @gruftiela  @thenotoriouserg  @greep215  @yallgotkik  @tactac286  @janineb86  @sflame15-blog  @nyxlaufeyson  @lokidokieokie  @purplekitten30  @sunnixart  @nikkig496-blog  @frozenhuntress67  @qardasngan  @rosecentury  @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen  @hrefna-the-raven  @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee

[sparkling-ariaria]

Eddie Munson fics I read and want to keep...no°4

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics*Updated: 12.11.2023

Lose yourself a little by majestyeverlasting - gf!Reader Prompt: Tugging a flower onto the side of their head and, oh god, are they pretty.

Insecure blurb by bettysupremacy - gf!Reader Eddie feels insecure about the fact that Steve buys you a lot of things, because he can't afford to do the same for you.

Making paper rings for him by kaylawritesfics

Making flower crowns for him by kaylawritesfics

Pride and Plushies by kaylawritesfics There are two things Eddie treasures most in this world: his girlfriend and their crotchet dog.

Lovesick drabble by ddejavvu - gf!Reader He has talked Waynes ear off about you so much the man already starts saving for a wedding.

Hold me close by eddiebaghetti - gf!Reader Eddie letting you wear his accessories during very soft love making.

Late night stove light softness by myosotisa - gf!Reader

Him and a stuffed animal collecting girlfriend by eiightysixbaby

Watch and learn by magicchai - gf!Reader He holds his Hellfire Club meeting at your apartment.

Smitten by magicchai He returns to his trailer to find you playing his guitar.

Sweetheart by mellifluousart The only thing Eddie would be calling his sweetheart is his guitar that he doesn't let anyone near. Yet he teaches you how to play on it.

Who could be a more doting boyfriend? by bettysupremacy 10 times he showed just how down bad he was.

Hallways by springautumn Eddie was expecting the usual scorn from Hawkins High but he was not expecting his very own guardian angel.

Taking care of him drabble by luveline - gf!Reader He feels suddenly unwell after a long day with little to eat. You step in when he almost faints to take diligent care of him.

Laughter is the best medicine by thepastdied Eddie cheers you up after a panic attack.

Is it cool if I hold your hand? by luveline Eddie asks you out on your very first date, indulging you in huge philly cheesesteaks, a vanilla milkshake (with two straws), a largely neglected bucket of popcorn, and a sugary first kiss.

Separation anxiety by corroded-hellfire Clingy bf!Eddie blurb.

Kitten licks + Search for Ember by corroded-hellfire Eddie goes to feed the stray cats in the trailer park, but when he gets there, he finds a girl he’s never met before.

He brings you flowers by cinemabean - best friend!Reader Your best friend surprises you with flowers when you're feeling down.

Eddie's little somethings extra blurb by upsidedownmvnson - gf!Reader His reaction when he finds out that you keep all the things he's gifted you.

You hear a rumor that Eddie likes you blurb by familyvideostevie

He tries to distract you from homework blurb by familyvideostevie - gf!Reader

He catches you staring at him blurb by lilacletter

In the still of the night by carolmunson - gf!Reader Taking care of depressed Eddie.

Pretty girl and her hoodie guy by lokis-army-77 - gf!Reader It was supposed to be a sunny day until it wasn't, but that's okay because maybe love is right around the corner... or the bus stop.

Birthday gift by forever-rogue - gf!Reader It's your birthday and Eddie gifts you a mix tape of all your favorite songs. But it's not the original artist’s versions.

A helping hand by upsidedownwithsteve Just some friends pining over each other at a diner.

Pumpkin muffins by eds6ngel- gf!Reader To celebrate the new season, you and Eddie decide to tackle baking some pumpkin mufffins!

Birthday Gifts by jamdoughnutmagician - gf!Reader A cute drabble about how Eddie would spend your birthday with you.

[lailyn]

Going Under

Summary: If there was one good thing about the TVA, it was Mobius.

Set in the middle of S2E3

"Hey, B-15's called us for a briefing." Mobius poked his head into the darkened room. "Thought you and I could grab something to eat before she chewed us out, you think you're up for it?"

"You go right ahead," a weak voice answered from somewhere underneath the blanket. "I'm feeling a bit unwell."

"What's wrong? You seemed fine an hour ago."

"Well, they don't call me the Amazing Loki for nothing," the lump on the bed mumbled. "I am, after all, the Master of Illusions."

Mobius took in the dimmed light, the curtains drawn, and made an educated guess. "Is it your head?"

A shock of unruly dark hair abutting the top half of a high forehead appeared. "To start with, yeah."

Mobius sighed. "I'm not surprised. You took quite the fall in front the whole of Chicago. I'd be too embarrassed to get out of bed too."

He sat down gently on the bed. "Can I get you anything? Tylenol, aspirin, something stronger?"

More of Loki's face emerged, and Mobius found himself wincing; the god was so pale Mobius could see the veins pulsating at his temples.

"I've taken the liberty of plundering your medicine cabinet. If I were any more medicated, I would be radioactive," Loki muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Mobius clicked his tongue in sympathy, for he knew just how high Loki's pain threshold was.

"That bad, huh." After an awkward pause, "She looks tiny but I guess her blows packed quite a punch."

Loki groaned. "Enough rubbing my nose in it, Mobius."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Mobius said quietly.

"Feels like you were."

"You were trying not to hurt her. I get it now."

Loki gave a little scoff. "A lot of good that did all of us. Victor still got away."

"Hey, we found him once, we can find him again."

"And Renslayer." Loki peered at his friend blearily. "You seem to be handling it well, seeing her again."

"You know me. Diplomacy first and foremost. Failing that, guilt-tripping."

"There isn't a shred of guilt to be found in that woman. You had every authority to take her in by force."

Mobius shrugged. "Sometimes holding back is a sign of strength. I learned that from you."

Loki rolled his eyes and immediately regretted it as pain exploded behind his temples. "Yeah, tell that to Sylvie. I tried your cerebral approach, and all I got to show for it is a concussion."

Mobius' eyes were deep wells of sympathy. "You'll live."

"I'll live," Loki agreed wearily. "I always do."

"Attaboy." Mobius slapped Loki's blanket-clad thigh lightly. "Rest up. When you feel like eating, let me know. I brought us back a little treat from the fair."

Loki made a face. "Not Cracker Jack again."

"Are you kidding? Who goes to the same concession stand twice?" Mobius asked incredulously. "Wait till you try it. No one does beef like Chicago. No one did better beef than Chicago 1893."

"You sure it's fit for consumption?" Loki eyed his partner warily. "It's nineteenth century meat."

"You had no problem eating Kablooie," Mobius pointed out. "That was sixteenth century, at least."

"That was candy. Candy's different."

Mobius snorted lightly. "Of course it is."

They shared a chuckle before it was abruptly cut short by Loki's little gasp of pain. He reached for his head, only to find that Mobius had beat him to it.

"You don't have to - " he started, but Mobius shushed him.

"Shh." Gentle fingers massaged his temples in slow, circular motion. "Just close your eyes, and try to relax."

"I need to get through to her, Mobius," Loki mumbled. "I just don't know how."

"We'll work it out," Mobius said soothingly. "Together."

"I'm so tired," Loki whispered. "But I can't afford to be, can I?"

Mobius did not answer for a long time. "This is not on you, Loki."

This is on you, Sylvie had said, when Victor Timely made his escape, and fools of them all.

Who should I believe, then? Loki asked silently. You or Sylvie?

"Stop it," Mobius admonished. "Stop thinking."

"I'd sooner stop breathing. My mind is all I have."

"You Lokis are so damn stubborn," Mobius muttered under his breath. "Not to mention reckless. How y'all managed to live this long I'll never know."

"The Norns have a twisted sense of humour," Loki said bitterly. "Just read my file. It's not for the lack of trying that I'm still living."

"Stop." Mobius' voice was harder now. "Enough with this, Loki. Have some goddamn sense of self-preservation. You're alive for a reason. Find it."

Loki opened his eyes slowly. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise to me," Mobius grumbled. "I'm not the one doubting myself."

Loki drew in a deep, shuddery breath. "I'll try harder. I promise."

"Yeah, that can wait," Mobius said kindly. "When you're feeling better."

He stood to leave, but when Loki tried to do the same, his eyes narrowed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"The briefing - "

"I said," Mobius articulated each word so there was no mistaking his meaning, "- the briefing can wait."

"But we have to - hey!" Loki's protests fell on deaf ears; despite being the smaller of the two, Mobius somehow managed to manhandle Loki back into bed.

"I've got it, Loki," Mobius said firmly. "I work here. You don't."

Loki swallowed hard to quell his nausea and frustration both. "Mobius…"

"I've got you."

Be it from the weight of Mobius' hand on his chest or the sudden cold compress on his head, Loki felt instantly comforted. Despite his disequilibrium, a calmness befell him, and with it, a stark realisation that throughout his long life, there had not been many he could trust, but this man right here, with his sad eyes and kind smile?

Loki trusted this man with his life.

"Okay, Mobius," he conceded with a sigh. "Okay."

"Attaboy."

[sophierequests]

Okay I lied. Here's one more because I can't help myself with these wonderful asks for this event. Bear with me please. <3

🌷 not a ghost but with a little twist

I don't know if this is allowed (but since you said I'm loki in your cym ask, I might as well act like it👀) - I don't write fics but I do give reviews, so I was thinking to link my favourite Sirius Black fic written by a really good friend here. It's worth it I promise.

@bookshelf-dust is worth the hype and I want to talk to you about Sirius Black of course

A masterpiece - here you go

If you're okay with this if course<33

reading + reacting to other writers' fics // love and mandrakes - sirius black

a little twist 👀 i like that

honestly, i don't care whether it's your own fic or not, because just reading other people's work makes me happy <3

live reaction:

i’m already a sucker for a fic that happens during herbology class, you you got me there

i love professor sprout omg

i would be so sad if i killed a plant in her class istg

there he is!! my boy!! always with the theatrical entrance, as he should!! i love him too!!

i would kill to be in professor sprout’s class

i see what you’re trying to do mr. black

now i can’t get the picture of remus piercing a shitfaced siruis in the middle of break while regulus stands there and watches

i’m imagining remus tossing sanitizing cloths at sirius whenever it is time to clean the piercing

wow, you just summarized my entire time at high school when it came to group projects

i love sirius

did i already mention that?

he’s just great

and an ass, but in a good way

teamwork makes the dream work ohooo

simp sirius is the best sirius

queen mention queen mention queen mention-

OMG A LITTLE SHOP OF HORROS REFERENCE IM STFFGHGSDSHJ GOING FERAL

sirius would fucking love a little shop of horrors

(also, the big brain move of using a musical that features

teasing = flirting

CO-PARENTING A MANDRAKE OMFG I AM UNWELL

GENIUS

the mandrake is a child of divorce send tweet

forest green is my favourite colour omg 

REMUS MY FAVOURITE BOY THERE YOU ARE

oh i can already tell everything that relates to remus is going to be my favourite part

early retirement i am crying

remus being overdramatic

he’s just like me fr

we love to see it

bisexual sirius confirmed 

remus is so done with them hjgsdlzg

i love him

help their banter makes my day

wolfstar besties, my heart <3

“look at this fucker” SIRIUS THAT’S YOUR CHILD

friend ;))))

simp sirius part i lost count

remussssss <333

now both are just simping huh

being reading besties with remus is all i want in life

reading with sirius would be so chaotic oh god

attention starved is sirius’ only mood

AHHHHH PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR I AM SGKSGTSSGSLU

oh god i loved it!!

my favourite lines:

She’s been briefed on what his home life is like, too, and who he has to put up with. And since she was a young girl, Pomona has been determined to give everyone a fair chance.

→ i teared up a bit

“I was prohibited,” he says, pressing a scandalized hand to his chest. “Remus did it for me over break, while my brother played nurse.”

“And for the record,” he adds, “Remus was very strict with my cleaning regimen, so I did not get any infections if that’s what you’ve been contemplating.”

→ this is canon

"Feed her, Seymour," you say, and Sirius whips his head towards you.

→ the impact this line had on me is astronomical

“I’ve realized we’re co-parenting a Mandrake,” he starts, “and I feel as though I should at least know a little something about the mother of my child.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “You know, to ensure that they don’t grow up lacking proper guardianship.”

“First, you don’t want to be friends, and now, you want our child to be one of divorce.”

“Sirius, we haven’t even been married.”

He presses his forehead against the stone next to you, and you turn to look at him. “I’m pretty sure there are a good bit of people who’ve been married and know less about each other than we do,” he says. 

→ this whole part had me screaming

“I don’t come to class one day, and you’ve made a new friend? Why couldn’t you have made a new one any other day? I think I need some time off. Maybe even early retirement.” 

“It’s rude to abuse the wounded.” 

→ remus is my baby, i love him

“You say that as if I won’t do it.”

James sits up, but only enough so that he may rearrange himself into a poorly structured child’s pose. “Stop being such fucking tease and do it then, babe.”

→ is this queerness i smell

“See? Look at this fucker. My child.” Sirius gestures dramatically at the potted plant. Remus leans up against one of the tables, only slightly amused, much more out of breath. 

→ a plus parenting sirius

“You whined about me making new friends,” Sirius says, “so that I’d leave you alone, and now you’ve taken it upon yourself to steal said friend from me?” 

→ dkjsksgl

“I want you to play with my hair,” Sirius says.  

→ deceased, dead, i died

final review:

this was so so good omg!! the pining, the flirting, the co-parenting??? i loved everything about this you have no idea. i may not be the biggest marauders stan to ever exist and i’m more of a moony type of person, but i love pads so much <333 he is baby <333 i also have to say that this did not read like a 5k fic, i was genuinely surprised how quickly this was over.

→ to my event post!

[ninazadzia]

When you’re ~35k* words deep into writing a Fanfiction for the first time in a decade

In FIVE WEEKS, MIND YOU

^literal footage of me from these last ~5 weeks

Also, not for nothing, 35k is a very conservative estimate - true estimate is I’m closer to 38,000-39,000 words, because I edit the chapters in separate word docs before posting them on AO3 - ANYWHO ~

I have fallen down the rabbit hole. I have this fic outlined from start to finish, in an attempt to reel it in, and have for weeks - it’s still got SO MUCH GOING ON. What started as a self-contained Stockholm Syndrome/trapped-on-a-beach-together fic between Bucky and Yelena has spiraled into a full-blown Multiverse of Madness-esque epic involving multiple variants of every fucking character, and I somehow am NOT DONE INTRODUCING CHARACTERS YET.

We have the X-Men. The Avengers. Variant Wanda. Evil Steve Rogers, Evil Natasha Romanoff, Kang, the TVA, fucking LOKI.

I am unwell.

Either this is the most brilliant thing I have ever written OR the plot of this fic literally makes zero coherent sense, there is no in between. 

If you need me, don’t, I will be locked in my cave from now until I finish writing this plot bunny that has taken over my life.

signed,

~ someone who should really be working on her grad school homework instead of writing Avengers fanfiction, whoops #send #help

[fandxmslxt69]

hello,,,,,,,,, hi,,,,,,,,, i have heard,,,, many wonderous things abt your writing ma'am and and..........nothing brings it to justice HOLY FUCKING SHIT?????????????????????

ok good morning everyone UMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

woah. wow. yeah. yeah yeah im nodding along yeah. yeah.

i have no words

THE WAY HE SAID "Claim your throne" I AM BARKINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

SHAKING IN MY BED. UNWELL!!!!!!! what am i meant to do with my life now.

its the way....the way you make it sooo hot and sexy but such a slowburn but SO SOFT TOO

Loki's "Will you have me?" okay just SHOOT ME IN THE HEART THEN WHY DON"T YOU?????

this girl is too strong bc if it had been me I would have probably folded by week 2. Week 3 MAX.

He....he....HE"S SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the slight slowburn at the start the hot desperate need THE UIHSYDBFJASDYFUGVHSDF OF IT ALL YEAH YAH YEAH YEAH

wow

i need a minute to recover

and a really cold shower.

Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

*

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

*

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

*

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

*

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.