#loki one-shots

[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do. 

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me. 

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it���s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with. 

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

[mobius-m-mobius]

Loki + searching for Mobius moments after disaster

[storiesforallfandoms]

kneel ~ loki laufeyson;mcu

word count: 3541

request?: no

description: after finally being fed up with loki’s pranks, she finds out something about her friend’s little brother, something that intrigues her greatly

pairing: loki laufeyson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (masturbation, oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I had known Thor since we were both kids, and that meant I had known Loki just as long. Loki was always Thor’s annoying little brother who lived up to his “God of Mischief” title a little too much. He had always loved to pull pranks on Thor and his friends, and he was the only one who enjoyed any of those pranks.

They started when we were kids - small, innocent pranks that were annoying, but not terrible. It was when they continued into our teenage and young adult years that they became a problem.

It was no use talking to Thor about it. He loved his little brother too much, even if he didn’t like the pranks either. He’d always just say, “He is the God of Mischief. It is just within his nature.”

I was pushed to the edge one day when I returned to my quarters to find a surprise waiting for me in my bed. Everyone knew of my fear of snakes. This information had unfortunately reached Loki as well. I had been waiting for him to use that information against me, but eventually I managed to forget he even knew. Until I got back to my quarters, kicked off my boots, and pulled back the covers to flop onto my bed, only to find it was full of snakes.

I shrieked and fell flat onto my ass. My heart was pounding as one of the snakes stretched its body out to put its face in mine. My fear was quickly replaced by anger as I realized exactly who put them there. I got to my feet and stormed out the door.

Loki was in the palace garden by himself. He was lucky I didn’t have any of my weapons, even though I could do just as much damage without them. I stormed up to him and, when he turned to face me, I swung. My fist connected with his cheek, knocking him to the ground. He had the audacity to look up at me in shock as he cupped his cheek.

“I have had enough of your bullshit, Loki!” I sneered. “Your tricks are going too far. Now you will pay!”

He tried to stutter something out, but I cut him off with a kick to the gut. I heard him wheeze as he fell onto his back, clutching his stomach. I knew I’d be in huge trouble if anyone were to catch us. Whether I was Thor’s friend or not didn’t matter when I was beating the shit out of the Asgardian prince. But I was far from caring at that point.

I drew back my leg and kicked him again, sending him rolling across the ground again. He quickly scrambled to his knees, holding his hands up to stop my assaults.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “I’m sorry. The snakes were too far, you’re right.”

“Why should I accept your apology?” I asked. “Nothing has ever stopped you before. Why should I believe you won’t put more snakes in my quarters once I’ve forgotten about this?”

“Please, I promise you I will never pull any pranks on you ever again. I have learned my lesson. You have my word on that.”

His word often meant nothing. He was the trickster god after all. I wouldn’t trust his word as far as I could throw him.

But there was something about the way he looked right now; on his knees, looking up at me with his big, blue eyes, his chest rising and falling with every panted breath as he tried to recover from my attack. His words were lost as I just looked at him. The thoughts that started to fill my mind were not ones I would’ve ever thought I could have about Loki.

When I realized what I was thinking, I quickly snapped out of my trance wans said, “I believe you” before turning to rush back to my quarters.

I closed my door and leaned back against it. I had completely forgotten about the creatures Loki had left in my bed, but now they were gone. I guess he had used his magic to get rid of them sometime between my attack and hasty departure. I tried to channel that anger back as I was reminded of what sent me to Loki to begin with, but my mind was now clouded with the image of Loki on his knees.

I decided to get a quick, cold shower to try and cool myself down, but it only made things worse. As the cold water cascaded over my body, I found myself envisioning that I wasn’t alone. As my hands moved over my body, I found myself imagining they were Loki’s hands. Soapy hands running over my arms, my shoulders, cupping my breasts. I let out a moan as I squeezed them, imagining Loki stood behind me, his lips on my neck as his hands toyed with me.

I gasped as I came to my sense. What is wrong with me?!

The minute the water shut off, my body felt hot to the touch again. The thought alone of having to put clothes back on made me feel claustrophobic, so I decided just to slip under the covers. my mind was still playing images I desperately wished would stop. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Loki. It’s not like I hadn’t noticed Loki like that before. When the two of us were going through puberty and starting to “notice” the opposite sex more, I saw how handsome he had become. But even then I never thought of him like this.

There was a dull ache between my legs that was starting to become too much to ignore. Maybe...maybe I just take care of it and these thoughts will finally go away.

I let one hand move down my body again, skimming over my breasts and stomach until I reached the heat between my legs. I gasped as I applied light pressure to my clit. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to picture Loki. I imagined him on his knees again, his blue eyes watching me as I stand over him. I pictured him pulling me closer and his lips teasing the host skin of my lower stomach. I whimpered as I applied more pressure to the circles I was rubbing on my clit. In my imagination, Loki was lifting my leg over his shoulder to get better access to my dripping pussy.

Before I could stop myself, Loki’s name slipped from my lips followed by a string of moans. Despite the fact that my brain was too lust clouded to really think about it, I knew I had no reason to stop myself from saying his name while I pleasured myself. The walls were essentially soundproof, so no one was going to hear who I was fantasizing about.

Or so I thought anyways.

Because as I came closer and closer to the edge, I heard a noise in my room. When I opened my eyes, I saw that I was not alone.

Loki was stood there, looking at me with wide eyes and pink tinted cheeks.

I screamed and sat up. The blanket fell to my lap, so I collected it again and used it to cover my bare body.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” I snapped. “How did you get in?!”

“I-I came in while you were in the shower,” he responded. “I...I was trying to scare you as payback for what happened in the garden, but when you came out naked and didn’t get dressed...”

He trailed off, his face growing redder by the second. I wondered at first how much he had seen, but if he was saying he had been here since I was in the shower, that meant he had seen everything. He had seen me naked, seen me touching myself, heard me moaning his name.

It was my turn for my face to burn with embarrassment. I turned away quickly so he couldn’t see my expression.

“Do you often think of me when you’re in here at night getting yourself off?”

I tried to scowl at him for even asking such a stupid question, but when my eyes met his I saw that he was no longer embarrassed. Instead, there seemed to be a hint of mischief in those blue eyes. And not the kind where he was about to cause some sort of annoying trouble. No, this was lust.

“No,” I told him. “I’ve never thought of you like this. It’s just...for some reason...after seeing you on yours knees in the garden...”

He chuckled. “Oh, you want to see me on my knees then, is that it?”

I could feel the heat growing between my legs again. Loki approached me, pausing a moment to see if I was going to tell him to leave. I knew I should’ve, but I really did not want to. I was curious to see where he was going with this, and if it meant he was going to give me the release I dearly needed...well, there was no harm in that, was there?

When I didn’t give any indication that I wanted him to leave, he extended a hand to me. I took it and he gently pulled me from my bed so I was standing in front of him. He was always taller than me, but I never truly noticed it until this moment, looking up at him and waiting for him to make some sort of move. He held eye contact with me as he slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of me.

“What was it I was doing in your fantasy?” he asked.

“Y-You were using your m-mouth on me,” I stuttered out.

“Like this?” he asked before leaning forward to press a kiss to my stomach - just like in my fantasy.

“Y-Yes,” I said. “But also...lower.”

“How much lower?”

“I think you know.”

He chuckled again. “I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

“You were kissing me on my pussy before you so rudely interrupted my fantasy.”

I gasped as he lightly bit at the soft skin on my stomach. “So naughty, even when you have me on my knees wanting to give you exactly what you were thinking about. Although, I suppose I did so rudely interrupt you while you were trying to get yourself off. I should try to make that up to you.”

He took my leg and lifted it over his shoulder. I reached behind me and used the nearest object - my nightstand - to steady myself as Loki immediately dove his tongue into my folds. I gasped, which turned into a moan. It felt even better than I ever could’ve imagined. Actually, I don’t think anything I could’ve imagined would ever live up to this. I had never had anyone go down on me, although I had done the same to plenty of my partners in the past. The feeling made me so lightheaded so quickly that I felt like I was floating.

While keeping one hand on my nightstand (because I was sure if I stopped holding it I would’ve toppled over), I ran my other through Loki’s long hair. Growing up, I had often teased him about wanting to keep his hair long because I told him it would just get in the way during battle. But now, I was glad he had never taken any of my words to heart. His long, black locks were the perfect thing to grab hold of and use to direct him as he devoured me. At one point, as his tongue ran from the tip of my clit all the way down to my pussy, I involuntarily pulled on his hair a little harder than I meant to. His response was to moan, not taking his mouth from me, sending a shiver all throughout my body.

He was watching me. Never once did his eyes leave me as he made me come undone just with his tongue. I tried to keep eye contact, but my eyes kept closing or my head would lull back in pleasure. I wanted this to last as long as possible, but I found myself nearing the edge quickly. I tried to pull Loki away, but he attached himself to me.

“Wait,” I breathed. “I-I’m gonna...”

“Cum in my mouth,” he told me before placing his mouth around my clit again and running his tongue over it.

It was enough to finally push me over the edge. I cried out in pleasure as I felt his tongue run down to my pussy to collect the juices running from it. My legs began to tremble and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand up for much longer. As if reading my mind, Loki’s hands raised up to hold onto my hips as he had a few last laps. When he finally managed to pull himself from me, I could see that his lips were glistening from me. It was enough to almost turn me on again.

He got to his feet again and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips. He slowly backed me up until I was falling back onto my bed. He followed me down, crawling on top of me so that his legs were straddling my hips. His mouth was on mine again, still hungry as if he hadn’t just eaten me like a man who hadn’t had food in years.

I reached between us to try and undo his pants, but he quickly moved his hand to capture my wrist. I jumped at the sudden contact.

“Do you not want to go further?” I asked. “I’ll respect your wishes if not, but you’re giving me very mixed signals if that’s the case.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to go further. You have no idea how badly I need to be inside of you right now. It’s just...”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for me to understand what he meant.

“There’s a lady in town who gives out contraceptives to the maidens in town,” I told him. “She said that on Midgard they call it ‘birth control’, but other realms are starting to take note of it to try and control their populations.”

“So...if we were to go through with this, there’s no risk of us producing an offspring?”

For some reason, the way he phrased it made me giggle as I shook my head. “No. There will be no little Lokis running around the castle.”

In a flash, his lips were on mine again. He didn’t stop me when I reached between us this time. I unbuttoned his pants and tried to pull them down without breaking the kiss. Unfortunately, it was not as easy as I would have wanted it to be and we eventually had to break away so Loki could undress himself. I watched, impatiently, as he pulled his shirt over his head first, then agonizingly slowly removed his pants and boxers. I couldn’t help but stare as his cock sprang free from their confinements. I had never really thought about the size of Loki’s dick, but I was pleasantly surprised to see what he was packing.

He climbed over me again, kissing me deeply as he lined himself up with entrance. I was still wet enough from my first orgasm that he was able to run the head of his dick through my folds and collect enough wetness that he could push himself into me with ease. He filled me slowly, letting me adjust to every inch of his length until he was buried to the hilt inside of me. I felt so full that I almost never wanted him to pull out of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “If anything hurts I’ll stop.”

“You are hardly the first lover I’ve had, Loki,” I told him. “I’ve done this before, you aren’t going to hurt me.”

He grinned down at me. “My, my, Thor’s virtuous best friend allowing herself to be defiled?”

“I’m hardly virtuous. Even Thor knows that. He just never wants to heard of my escapades.”

“I don’t think I want to hear of them either.” Before I could respond, he pulled out until it was just the head of his dick inside of me, before thrusting all the way in again. The words fizzled in my throat and became moans instead. “I don’t want to think of anyone else defiling you. Not in the past, and not in the future. If we are crossing this boundary tonight, then I want you to be mine. No other person in all of Asgard or any other realm can have you, do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Gods, Loki, I’m yours! I promise, I will not let anyone else have me. I’m yours and yours alone, I swear.”

I could feel his smirk against my neck as he began to kiss me. “Say it one more time. I like hearing it.”

“I’m yours, Loki. All of me is yours.”

With every thrust inwards he was hitting spots that I didn’t even know could exist within me. He kissed wherever his lips could reach, and what they couldn’t reach he touched with his hands instead. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into my ear as he fucked me like it was his life’s purpose. I wasn’t sure if he actually meant that he wanted me to be his or if it was just the lust of the moment taking over, but I was starting to hope he really meant it. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else after this. He was ruining me with every thrust, every caress, every kiss.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I’m getting close.”

“Please cum in me,” I said. If I was in my right mind I might’ve been embarrassed to beg, but there was one thing I wanted right now and I wasn’t afraid to voice that.

“Is that what you want, pet?” he asked. “Do you want me to fill you up? To really claim you as mine?”

I nodded quickly, unable to form any other words. I wrapped my legs around his waist, which caused him to chuckle. “Alright, I’ll give you exactly what you want then.”

I could feel him twitching inside of me, and within a matter of seconds he was spilling into me. He buried his head into my shoulder, his groans muffled against my skin. My hands were gripping at his back so hard that I was sure there were going to be imprints of my nails left in his skin. I looked up at the ceiling of my quarters, but all I could see were stars.

We laid together for what felt like hours. I didn’t want this to end, but I feared that once Loki had come down from his high that he would regret everything he had said. I knew I probably was supposed to feel the same way, he was Thor’s little brother after all. I shouldn’t think of him as a partner or a lover. And yet, I was dreading the moment he pulled out of me and looked at me with regret. Or worse yet, that he would leave without even so much as a glance in my direction and forget this ever happened.

To my surprise, when Loki finally did pull himself from me, he held me with one arm and moved the blankets back so we could both slip under them. He pulled me to him, resting my head on his chest, and reached over to turn off the light on my nightstand.

“You’re staying, then?” I asked. It came out soft and hopeful.

“Did you want me to leave?” he asked.

“No,” I said quickly.

“Then I’ll stay.”

“You don’t...regret what just happened?”

“Do you?”

“Do you always have to answer a question with a question?”

His chest vibrated beneath my cheek as he laughed. “Well, considering the questions you’re asking, I feel the need to make sure that isn’t how you’re feeling.”

“It’s not,” I confirmed. “I want you to stay, and I don’t regret what just happened. If anything, I’m very glad it happened. I don’t think I’ve felt that good during sex in a long time.”

“Then you were having sex with the wrong people.”

“Evidently so.”

He squeezed me gently and kissed my forehead. I felt the touch run through my entire body, from the place he kissed on my head all the way down to my toes.

“I meant what I said. About you being mine,” he said. “I’m not one to engage in meaningless sex. If that’s all you wanted, then I would leave and forget it ever happened. But, I don’t intend to let you go that easily.”

“I don’t intend to be let go.”

“Good.” He kissed me again. I couldn’t fight back the smile that tugged at my lips. “Go to sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning.”

I nodded and settled against his chest. “Goodnight Loki.”

“Goodnight, love.”

[dilfmobius]

LOKI 2x05 | "Science/Fiction"

With science, it’s all about what and how. But with fiction, it’s why. So... why do you need to do this?

[lostalioth]

𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲

→ premise: loki may seem like a cruel prince to others, strict and ruthless. expect in the privacy of your shared chambers he’s your loving master who fills you up just like you need.

→ pairing: loki laufeyson x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, creampie, master kink, unprotected sex, nicknames [master, angel, darling], small praise kink, small amount of begging, reader grabs onto lokis helmet horns, this is very short

→ a/n: kinktober 05

To the other asgardians Loki seemed a ruthless man, a cruel prince who nobody understands. Though to you, he was your loving devoted boyfriend, one who spoils you in more ways than one.

“Loki- please let me cum” you whine as your hips attempt to push against his hold on them to ride him. His long thick cock was throbbing inside you, he was currently buried to the base with you sat in his lap. He was making you sit still to stop you short from cumming. He was just as close as you were and even the little clenches of your cunt were soon gonna be enough to push him over that edge.

“Eh- what's my name darling?” He tilted his head, his voice having its usual cocky edge. The shorter version of his signature horned helmet, sat on his head still. He grabs ahold of your chin, forcing your glazed over about to start watering eyes to look at him when you don’t respond right away.

“Master!~” the proper name he wanted you to say slips out in a wanton moan when his hips thrust up hard inside you to get your attention. “Master, please let me cum, pleasssee” you drag out the last word in a whine as you beg.

A satisfied smirk grows on his face as you continue to plead and beg. “You can cum angel, you have permission for being such a good girl” he chuckled lightly and using his hold on your hips, thrusts up into your leaking cunt.

”Fuck!” You scream out as your hands scramble to hold onto something, you try grabbing ahold of his shoulders but eventually your hands settle on grabbing onto the horns of his helmet.

He quirked an eyebrow at you in interest at your choice but loses his focus when your pussy squeezes his cock. “Mhmm~ shit darling im gonna cum, wanna cum with you angel” he growls and speeds his thrusts up, his tip hitting the glorious spot inside you and abuses it.

“Master, im cumming~” you whine out as your head falls back, your eyes screwed shut. Loki takes in the beautiful sight of your body as your climax washes over you, your thighs shaking as they laid each side of him.

“Thats a good fucking girl- god angel” he grunts out as his own head lulls back in bliss when his climax hits him, hot spurts of cum slowly filling up your used and still throbbing cunt.

in the midst of coming down from your highs, Loki softly kisses along your exposed shoulder and up the side of your neck. Exhaustion and soreness quickly hits your body as it grows limp in his arms.

“I love you darling” he whispers against your neck as you begin drifting off to sleep. “Mmm, love you too master” you mumble out almost inaudibly, his softening cock still buried in you and keeping his seed inside.

→ a/n: this is short as i rushed to write it, it late by a day, i meant to post this yesterday but had a horrible headache so I couldnt even write it. I didnt proofread so sorry for any mistakes

[simplyholl]

Loki Oneshots

18+ Only. Minors DNI.

Snowed In

A Christmas Wish

Feast

Titles and Temptations

New Year’s Eve

A Moonlit Picnic

The Sex Tape

The Birthday Gift ft Bucky

All Eyes On Me

Traitor

A Big Tip

Be A Good Girl For Daddy

Bad Idea, Right?

The President’s Pet

Frozen Stiff

Birthday Girl

A Gift For A God

Exposure

Three’s Company ft Bucky

Truly Desperate

Buckle Up

Punished

Happily Never After Pt 1

The Bet

Fireworks

[punch-love]

one of the things I like about the TVA is that it's essentially a story about the angels in heaven finding out god isn't real and that none of them were actually angels

[lokisgoodgirl]

Delayed Gratification [Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot/companion to Don't be Shy] A timid Loki breaks his s*x drought, with your encouragement. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Sub!Loki. Language. Dirty Talk. (w/c 2.3k)

You pressed a thumb against the pad on your door. It beeped, making Loki flinch behind you.

“Gosh, you really are nervous.” you mumbled with a smile, hearing the rustle of Loki’s crisp shirt as he straightened.

Pouring two glasses of water, you set them the side-table next to the sofa. Loki had made himself comfortable, removing his waistcoat and sitting poised with his legs crossed.

“So how long is a long time, exactly?” you probed, sliding a hand up one muscular thigh as you settled beside him. Loki's eyes darted towards you, adjusting his hips.

“Since Asgard.” he murmured tentatively, voice catching as your fingers danced up his in-seam.

“Oh…that is a dry spell.” you cooed, an amused smile curling at your lips. How is it possible this perfect specimen hasn't been ridden in years, you thought; scepticism creeping in. It's not possible.

Loki hissed as your fingers brushed his hardening cock, feeling the trapped monster grow thick beneath your gentle touch. His knuckles whitened under the crushing grip on the armrest.

Or maybe it is, you pondered with a smile.

“If you don't mind me asking...why is that?” you said, gaze crawling over his twitching brow. "I find it hard to believe you don't have a lot of opportunity-"

“Hardly-” he gasped, ass clenching before he bit his lip. Even with this achingly light level of touch, it was almost too much for him to bear. That was plain to see.

“I just...have a h-hard time letting loo-se, you see.” he stammered, his grip making the armrest creak in protest.

You squeezed again, making Loki’s eyelids flutter shut.

He whimpered, a series of shallow pants wisping from his throat. “I can stop?” you whispered, trailing your free hand over your cleavage. His eyes shot open, afire with sudden fear. “-No.” he choked, looking longingly to the fingers grazing the curve of your breasts. “For the love of the Nine...don’t stop.”

A secret smile pressed against your cheeks as you stood and intertwined your fingers with his. “Come with me.” you said firmly, nerves sizzling as Loki let out a long exhale before unfurling himself to his full height. You walked slowly ahead of him to the bedroom, circling behind and pushing the shy god gently to the mattress.

He began to yank at his windsor knot, before pausing. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.”

The words were accompanied by a penitent flutter of his lashes. You chuckled. “Loki, you’re sitting on my bed. If you had any idea how wet I am right now…” you groaned, straddling him and sliding your hands firmly over his shoulders.

Loki’s legs widened as the soaking gusset of your panties grazed the hard shaft pressed against his thigh. He swallowed thickly as you began to place messy sucks on his exposed neck, whipping the tie from his collar.

“S-slow...slower.” he panted, breaths quick. Surfacing from stiff cotton, you rose on your knees; tugging his hair back as you descended with a licentious kiss. You could feel his chest heaving beneath your own, the tell-tale thrust of his hips against your core sloppy and needy and desperate.

Loki broke for air, his eyes wild. Your lips curled in a coquettish smile. “Maybe we should start gently, hmm?” you said, seeing Loki nod. “I think that’s...wise.” he muttered, a thin sheen of moisture forming on his brow. Your knees shuffled backwards, lowering yourself to the carpet between his legs and pulling your dress over your head.

“Do you mind taking these off?” you asked gently, pulling at the fabric tight against his thigh. Loki’s gaze refocused from the lingerie cupping your curves, his mouth forming a soft O.

“Of- of...of course. Apologies.” he fumbled, before a shimmer of his magic dissolved the luxurious suit trousers from his body. And his underwear, too. “You don’t have to...do...that, you know.” he mumbled.

You didn’t need to look at him to know the pink tinge in his cheeks was back with renewed force.

Loki’s cock rose between his spread thighs. It was long, pale and utterly perfect. Just as you knew it would be. You curled your fingers lightly around the thick base, making Loki’s hips jolt. Your thumb didn’t reach around the circumference.

“Just breathe…” you murmured, hearing his frantic breaths slow at the command. Your finger caressed up the length, making tingles soar on the surface of his neglected velvet skin. “This should be worshipped, Loki.” you muttered absent-mindedly as you inspected it with awe, hearing him chuckle before you lifted your gaze seductively to meet his. “So let’s make a start on that, shall we?”

His palms rested on your duvet, fingers spread. You could see him slide them into a tight grip, neat fingernails scratching against the fabric as he inhaled sharply, bracing himself. You leant forward, extending your tongue so that only the lightest of licks trailed from the base of his shaft to the tip.

Loki’s moan was raw dynamite, a long ragged sigh that made your thighs squeeze together. He tasted like freshly washed linen, the scent of clean cotton lingering in your nostrils. Unspoilt. Virginal.

You parted your lips, tongue sliding in messy kisses against the meat of his cock. The base of your palm held his length steady, perfectly vertical as his hips rocked upwards.

“F-ffuck..det er f-for godt-” he moaned under his breath, sliding a hand against the back of your head before retracting. Seizing his moment of resistance, you lapped tortuously slowly over the leaking tip. Loki shuddered as he watched the glistening bead of pre-cum that had been trembling there disappear beneath you eager attentions.

“M-more...please.” he stammered, forearms quivering as he braced against the bed. You tilted your chin up to face him, nestled between his thick thighs. “Are you sure?” you said coyly. Loki nodded, shallow breaths making his chest strain against the buttons of his shirt. You pressed your lips together, arching a brow before you descended and swallowed the tip of his cock.

A strangled whine rumbled from the god as you sucked gently, the fingers curled around his base pulsing with each smooth lap of your tongue. You could feel Loki brace against the bed, his fingertips digging into the mattress as his thighs began to shake. And you were barely touching him.

“Det føles for godt…” he groaned, toes curling against the carpet. “F-fuck...im nær...im n-nær-” he growled through gasping breaths. “S-stop.”

You released him, a strand of saliva hanging in a teasing curve between his foreskin and your lips. Loki’s addled stare rolled blissfully along the spittal’s route, landing on your glistening mouth.

“Fuck.” he murmured reluctantly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to the side. “I should not have led you on. This is...not my usual- not my typical performance I-”

You pressed a finger to his lips. “I think it’s hot.” you purred, making his eyebrows slant with surprise. “Really hot.”

Rising to your feet, you tugged down your panties before sliding onto Loki’s lap once more. The thump of arousal between your legs was untenable, the messy slick of your sex crying for relief against his naked thighs. “Just go with it.” you keened in his ear, rolling your hips against the base of the cock sandwiched between you. His breath hitched, fingertips sinking into the curve of your waist. “We can make it a little game.”

“A game?” Loki chirped, interest piqued. “I like games.”

“I know you do.” you hummed encouragingly, sucking his earlobe between your teeth. Loki hissed, a growl building in his chest as you began to unbutton his shirt. “Is this what you thought of as you fucked yourself thinking of me?” you said, feeling his stomach clench beneath your searching hands.

He cleared his throat, back straightening.

“I must confess I was rather more...dominant.” he admitted sheepishly, avoiding your seductive stare. He observed as your fingers made quick work of the buttons, ebony hair falling sluttishly around his jaw. “Dominant?” you teased approvingly. “Why do I get the feeling you made me call you Daddy?”

“Oh, I insist on it.” he joked, before you stripped back the shirt from his shoulders.

The god’s jaw clenched as you pushed the cuffs from his wrists; coaxing him backwards. “Norns…” he gasped, muscular back hitting the mattress with a soft thump. You took a moment to savour the god stretched like an shy whore on your king bed, his soft eyes wide with nervous anticipation. You smiled, crawling slowly up his long body.

“Trust me, Loki…” you said softly, the lust in your voice simmering as the thick veins in his throat hardened. “We’ll ease you back in, don’t worry.”

He opened his mouth to speak, before his eyes fluttered shut. Loki’s back arched as you ground your bare pussy against his length. You slid easily back and forth, dragging through your slick folds. The soft mewls of grateful submission from his lips made your nipples harden.

“You should be fucked every day, Loki Laufeyson.” you slurred, feeling his cock twitch against your cunt. “Every. Fucking. Day.”

Loki huffed in frustration, bucking upwards. The scent of you. The promise of your wetness. It must be driving him crazy.

“Ride me. Please-fuck me, I can’t take it anymore.” he growled, tilting his chin against his chest as your cleavage hung tantalisingly in front of him. His nose slotted between your mounds, a shuddering sigh shaking his body as he lost himself.

"Patience, Laufeyson...” you giggled, hearing a muffled whine against your skin. “A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone. Much less a god...”

You reached between his legs, hovering above his hips as you lined him up. The wide tip of his cock nudged against your slit, his forehead creasing as he tried to restrain himself with a quaking sigh. Loki’s lips formed a stoic line, eyebrows knitting slowly together as you squeezed the thick head inside your cunt.

With every inch you sank, his lips parted further; the skin sticking as he exhaled a ragged, primal gasp of relief.

“I...I...uhh-hh-gods.” he rasped, fingertips sinking into the soft thighs spread against him. You stilled, the head of his cock buried to the hilt. You squeezed.

Loki jolted on the bed, hair fanning in wild tendrils as he clenched his jaw to the ceiling. “I had forgotten.” he moaned through gritted teeth, grunting as you began to roll your hips in miniscule waves. “I had f-forgotten...faen.”

Your clit tugged against his public mound as you rocked slowly to and fro, minimising your movements.

Loki whimpered, brows twitching as he watched you relax into bliss above him; his thick girth stretching your walls as you gyrated. “This feels so good, Loki…” you groaned, letting your head fall back as his legs tensed beneath. The god's feet slid up the bed behind you - knees parking bent at your sides. Tears had begun to form in his eyes.

“Norns.” he gasped quietly, resting his hands on your hips and guiding you carefully back and forth. Like you might break. The needy touch was the final spark, lighting the trail of gasoline to climax like a match.

Your swollen clit pulsed with every slow tug against his neat pubic hair, the solid mass of his cock making you whimper. “I’m going to cum, baby…” you mewled, making Loki’s fingers dig deeper. A solitary tear of desperation rolled down his cheekbone, disappearing to the curve.

He thrust upwards once. A broken cry of pleasure from his throat sent shivers down your spine. It sounded like pain. But it wasn't pain. Far from it.

Your palms pressed against his shoulders, limiting his movement. “Not yet.” you choked, increasing the pace of your rolling hips against his base.

“You’re so...fucking...tight.” Loki breathed, ragged pants filling the air as you rocked into him, orgasm blossoming like a wall of fire. His voice was thick, wet with pure lust. “You feel s-so-uhhh, so divi-divine I-” he stammered, choking as he felt your fingernails dig deep into the ropes of shoulder muscle.

“Now, Loki.” you whined, releasing your hands from his biceps and gripping the brass railings above his head. You slid up his cock, squeezing at the tip before sinking into the god’s sloppy thrust. His eyes were suddenly wild, torn between savouring every inch of your sex-drunk body and becoming lost in his own pleasure beneath the veil of his eyelids. An animal released from the cage.

He tugged your hips towards him, beginning to bounce you on his slippery cock. Nordic curses dripped from his lips like battle cries, a vein by his temple thick to bursting against the furious weight of his basest needs. Every slap of his skin against your fizzing clit sent jolts through your body, the power of raw animalism coursing from his sex to yours.

“Let it go-” you gasped, throwing your head back as you felt an explosion of pleasure surge in your belly. “Don’t be s-shy oh my god, - oh my, uhhh...f-fuck...scream for me, -L-Loki.”

Loki slammed your pussy a final time to the hilt, before a roar of utter devastation exploded from his throat.

Tendrils of damp hair cascaded over his brow as his back arched, errant strands across his lips blown by a feral moan of your name. You could feel the force of hot cum hit your cervix, leaking into every crevice of your stuffed slit as his messy thrusts slowed.

Loki’s eyes had squeezed shut, deep lines ironed into his forehead as he murmured panting praises you didn’t understand.

He lay there silently, breaths slowing. “Was that OK?” you whispered, flickers of sudden insecurity rearing in your mind. There was no answer. "Loki?" You leant forwards, clenching around his cock as you rested against his chest. Loki nodded, humming blissfully with his eyes still closed.

“Truly... I am lost for words.” he slurred, running a large palm down your spine and planting a light, congratulatory smack on your ass.

You felt a wave of pride rise in your belly. “There’s a first time for everything.” you teased, making Loki open one eye with difficulty. “How dare you.” he growled.

In a second, he had flipped you over; pinning you to the bed with his fingers curled around your wrists. “Not so shy anymore, then?” you giggled, feigning a feeble attempt to escape from his grasp.

“Thanks to you, it seems my drought is over-” he purred, spreading your legs with a nudge of his knees.

“And darling?” he smouldered, damp curls clinging to his cheekbones as his eyes darkened. “Daddy’s very thirsty.”

Det er for godt – it’s too good. Det føles for godt – it feels too good im nær – I’m close

Tags

@gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @glitchquake @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf @kats72

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Professional Indiscretion

Inspired by this post

Warnings: non/dubcon, degradation, demeaning behaviour, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki Laufeyson

Summary: a colleague returns from a recent vacation but is less than relaxed.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’ve honed the skill of indifference long ago. The voices that carry from down the hall meld together in a dull buzz as you push them to the back of your mind. You’re less concerned with the latest water cooler gossip as your deadline bears down on you. 

You hate when a project comes down to the line. It couldn’t be helped. What should have been a two-person assignment was dropped solely in your lap. It isn’t the first time and won’t be the last. Your colleagues are less than reliable. 

As their voices glaze over each other, you shrug of your resent. They all have their obligations; golf rounds or the windfall of courtside tickets. You’ve never been afforded the luxury of a half-day to go play. You are the dependable one; as far as your coworkers are concerned, you have nothing going on besides picking up their slack. 

Work is work. You don’t linger on it; you just get it done. A peel of laughter jars you from your focus. You should close your door but that’s just an invitation. The last time, they simply moved in front of your door and spoke even louder. It’s like a game to them. 

Caroline’s bubbly laughter trills down the hall. She’s joined the rabble. One of the young temps the men love to flirt with. ‘Oh it makes me feel young again.’ Ugh, you couldn’t imagine turning the clock back twenty years. You’re happy that era of your life is over. 

You squint at the monitor and review your work. There’s a subtle tap on your doorframe. Your flicks up and back down. Loki. 

“Yes, how can I help you?” You ask as your fingers flutter over the keyboard. 

“Good afternoon to you too,” he drawls as he breaks the threshold. 

“Afternoon,” you continue to type. You try not to think of how this was meant to be his project. 

“I’m only doing my rounds. As you know, I was recently abroad and I brought back some sweets,” he crosses your office and sets a blurry object down in your peripheral. 

“That’s generous, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” You say. 

“You’re welcome,” he overrides your protest. 

You sniff, “thanks.” 

He’s quiet as he stands across from you. His gaze hangs over you like a dark cloud. You check the auto-save and retract your hands. You push your shoulders back and look at him. 

“You were the only who didn’t come out to congratulate me,” he muses. 

You sit straight. You are not unkind or inconsiderate. You just don’t come to work to socialize. You signed the card they sent with the flowers. 

“Congratulations on your wedding. It seems it was a success,” you say. 

He doesn’t react right away. He just stares at you. His green eyes are sharp and his lips a thin line. It isn’t the ego stroking he was looking for. You’re not quite sure what more to say. You’re not very familiar. 

He scoffs, “I see.” 

You blink, confused by the derision in his tone. You look at him past your monitor as he slowly pivots on his heel. It scuffs loudly and he marches to the door. He stops right before it then delicate grabs the handle and draws it shut. 

You tilt your head curiously, “I’m just finishing up a project, so I don’t have very much time--” 

“You’ve always been a dry old spinster, haven’t you?” He slithers as he faces you again. 

“Pardon?” You’re genuinely stunned by his accusation. It’s not the first time you’ve met with that sort of spite. There is a contempt reserved only for older women. 

“Yes, you strut around here as if you are a queen. Above us all, and I come to you with a token of good will, a souvenir from my honeymoon, and it only reminds you of how utterly pathetically alone you truly are,” he sneers. “So you offer me that trite look and your empty tiding.” 

You scrunch your lips in surprise and cup your hand in confusion, “nothing of the like. I’m sorry, I am rather busy with my work--” 

“Oh but this isn’t just today. It’s how it’s always been. You cannot be happy for anyone for your own misery,” he tuts. 

“If that’s what you think,” you sit back calmly. “I think you should go.” 

He lingers on the other side of your desk, “it’s because she’s young, I know it.” 

“What?” 

“My new wife. I see how it makes you bristle to know a man of your peerage couldn’t be bothered with you. You see, women age differently. They become bitter.” He snarls. 

“I hardly see how this is appropriate. I am asking you to go--” 

He sets his stance and lowers himself into the chair across from you. He smirks and pushes back his dark curls. Your spine locks up. That look in his eye, you’ve seen that in men before. 

“I know what the matter is,” he pushes his feet wide and grips his thighs. He postures so his shoulders are wide and high. “How long has it been?” 

You refuse to acknowledge his jeer. You shift to your monitor and go back to your editing. He clucks. 

“Months, years?” He suggests. 

“I’m busy,” you insist, keeping your eyes averted. 

“What the wife doesn’t know...” he growls. 

You flinch, appalled by his suggestion. 

“Leave,” you say. 

He snickers. “Are you so resigned to your feeble existence? Those lonely nights? In your condo, drinking your chardonnay, reclining on your chaise and reading the latest lascivious rag written for pruny old divorcees?” 

You freeze then slowly look at him. It could be a cruel assumption, though it isn’t untrue. In fact, it is far too accurate to be a coincidence. Down to the chaise and the chardonnay. 

“And that toy you keep in your jewelry box,” he curls a finger to mimic the curved shape. “Do you even feel it anymore?” 

“Get out,” you hiss. 

He smirks and arches a brow, “come.” 

He beckons with two fingers. You clutch the armrests of your chair and your nose flairs. You glare back at him, horrified. A newly married man and he’s here propositioning you. What’s more, he’s been watching you. 

“You’re disgusting--” 

“Get up,” he rubs his thigh. “And come here.” 

“HR--” 

“Oh, I know Bradon well. I will be happy enough to explain how you’ve grown so jealous of my young wife. You’re overworked so of course you couldn’t control yourself--” 

“He wouldn’t believe you--” 

“Wouldn’t he? We play squash on Sundays. He knows my character well. An upstanding member of the country club--” 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want me to say? Hm? Congratulations on your pretty young wife. Now, you should go home to her,” you snip. 

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he taunts as his eyes narrow snakishly. “I want you to come sit in my lap so I can show you how useless that toy truly is.” 

“You are--” 

“I am your villain,” he undercuts you. “And you have two choices. You can finish that project and submit it and have it tossed out for your indiscretions or you can do what I tell you and still have a job to support you wined-up erotica sessions.” 

You curl your lip, repulsed. There’s no point in asking why. Men do not operate on logic. 

“What’s it going to be?” 

You grit your teeth and take a deep breath. You push yourself to your feet and steady yourself. You move stiffly around the desk, eyes on the wall as you near him. As you get close, he grabs your hip and turn you. He forces you down so roughly that your ankles bend. 

You catch yourself on him, grabbing his hands as he grips you tight, and you writhe against his obvious arousal. A man like him can only get off on his own ego. You shudder and grasp his wrists. 

He pulls you back against his and rests his chin on your shoulder. You squirm as he untangles his arm from your hold. He hooks his arm around your stomach as his other tugs at your skirt. You huff and claw at his sleeves. 

“Alright, that’s enough, you’ve made your point--” 

He shoves his hand against your panties, pushing the satin between your folds. You gasp and twitch. You push your thighs together and crush his fingers. It only adds pressure. 

“You remember the day I started,” he turns to nuzzle your neck as he speaks, “and you had to make it known that you weren’t an assistant advisor, you were a senior.” He moves his fingers between the clutch of your tensed thighs. “That you were above me?” 

“No, I--” you gulp slap at his wrist. 

“Oh, and look at you now. Still above me, eh? Right there... on top of me,” he buries his hand against you and nips at your neck meanly. “You will be on your knees soon enough,” he flicks his fingers harshly and you spasm. “Right where you belong.” 

[bruciewayne]

in another universe, do we still have dinner together?

[amethystarachnid]

FORBIDDEN

⤷ LOKI LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst and maybe a tiny bit of fluff at the end

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.8k (damn)

ᯓ★ TW(s): so much angst that it needs a tw, arranged marriages, Loki vs Tv remote (remote won), Loki vs Spaghetti (Spaghetti won)

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the movies

ᯓ★ Request: Hi! I love the idea for this challenge, so I'd love to request a Forbidden relationship with Loki if that's okay. If you prefer not to write about him, I'm happy to see it with Tony instead! 🤍 ( @nicoline1998enilocin) [we love Loki in this blog <3 ]

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air is thick with tension as you stand in the shadows of the grand hall, your heart racing in your chest. From where you are, you can see him—Loki, the God of Mischief, prince of Asgard, and the one person you’re not supposed to love. He sits at the long, golden table, laughing lightly at something his brother Thor says, though his eyes betray the storm of emotions swirling within him. Your chest tightens at the sight, the distance between you feeling more like a chasm than a few short steps.

You shouldn’t be here. You know that. Servants are not meant to linger, to watch, to hope. You belong in the shadows, the corners, where no one sees you. Especially not him. Especially not a prince.

But he sees you. He always does.

A fleeting glance. That’s all he allows himself. The briefest flicker of emerald eyes in your direction, so quick that no one else could ever notice. But you feel it as if his gaze had touched your skin. The heat, the longing, the unspoken words that scream louder than anything ever could.

Loving him is a curse—a dangerous, beautiful curse.

It’s forbidden. He’s the prince, and you… you are nothing more than a servant in the royal palace, an invisible figure in his world of gods and thrones. And yet, despite the danger, despite the constant threat that hangs over both your heads, you can’t stop. You can’t stay away from him, and he can’t seem to let you go.

You remember the last time you were alone together. The secrecy, the stolen moments, the way he kissed you as if he’d been starving for you his whole life. It was desperate. It always is. Each time, you know it could be the last, and it’s killing you.

Tonight, in this crowded room filled with the finest nobles and warriors of Asgard, you stand on the opposite side of the world from him. But you can still feel his presence, a pull stronger than anything else. He looks so calm, so composed, the picture of a perfect prince. But you know better. You know the battle that rages inside him, just as it does inside you.

The door behind you creaks open, and your heart leaps into your throat as a guard walks past, his eyes barely glancing your way. A close call. Too close. You lower your head, reminding yourself of the rules, the risks. If anyone found out…

But then you hear it—your name, spoken in that smooth, dark voice that always manages to send shivers down your spine. You don’t even need to turn to know it’s him.

“Meet me,” Loki murmurs, his words barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmurs of the court. “Tonight. You know where.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. But he doesn’t need you to. You know he’ll be waiting, just as you will be. And when the night falls, and the palace sleeps, you will find each other again. You always do.

But with every meeting, every kiss, every whispered promise in the dead of night, you feel the noose tightening around both your necks. One day, someone will find out. And when they do, your world will come crashing down.

The weight of that knowledge crushes you every second, but none so heavily as when you catch his eye again from across the room. There's so much distance between you—physical, social, cosmic. A prince and a servant. The most forbidden of loves.

But gods help you, you love him anyway. And that may be the most dangerous thing of all.

The night is silent, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the palace gardens and the distant murmur of the wind through the tall, stone walls. You move quietly, your heart pounding in your chest with every step you take toward the secret passage. The same passage you’ve slipped through countless times before.

Your hands shake as you push open the heavy door that leads to the darkened corridor. This is madness. Every fiber of your being screams at you to turn back, to run and never look back. But the pull toward him is stronger, more insistent. It’s like a fire in your veins, a need so deep it terrifies you.

When you finally reach the small alcove where he waits, you stop just before stepping into the moonlight. You know he’s there, hidden in the shadows, but you hesitate. For a brief moment, the weight of what you’re doing—what you’ve been doing—crashes down on you.

You’re risking everything. He is too.

Then you hear the faint sound of his breath, a sharp intake as if he senses your presence, and you step forward. The pale light from the moon bathes the stone floor in silver, and you see him, standing there, tall and cloaked in darkness, his sharp features softened by the night.

"Loki," you whisper, your voice trembling, though you wish it weren’t.

In an instant, he’s in front of you, closing the distance between you with a grace that never fails to steal your breath. His hands reach for you, cold and firm, and when they touch your skin, it feels like an anchor pulling you out of the storm. You melt into his embrace, the tension in your body dissolving as you feel the warmth of him against you.

“You came,” he breathes, his voice low and filled with a relief that mirrors your own. His arms tighten around you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“I always do,” you whisper back, resting your forehead against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart beneath his clothes.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The world outside is distant, and here, in this stolen moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in existence. But it never lasts, and the reality of what you are doing creeps back in like a cold gust of wind.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you murmur, your words barely audible, though you feel him stiffen at your confession.

“I know,” he replies, his voice strained, his breath brushing the top of your head. His fingers run through your hair, gentle but desperate. “But how can I stop? How can I stay away from you when every moment without you feels like I’m being torn apart?”

Your eyes sting as his words sink in, but you force yourself to pull back, just enough to look up at him. His expression is tormented, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely allows anyone to see. But you know. You know him better than anyone else ever could.

“Loki, if they find out—”

“They won’t.” His voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a blade. “I won’t let them. Not Thor, not my father, not anyone.”

There’s a fire in his eyes, a fierce determination, but you shake your head, your heart aching. “You can’t protect me from this. From us. You’re a prince, and I… I’m just—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his hand moving to cradle your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don’t say that. You are everything to me.”

Tears burn your eyes as you search his face, desperate to find some solution, some way for this to work, but it feels like the walls are closing in on you both. There’s no way out. You’ve always known that. But you’ve let yourselves fall too far, too deeply.

“I don’t care what I am or what you are,” Loki continues, his voice rough with emotion. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. Do you understand?”

His words wrap around your heart like a vise, both a comfort and a curse. You want to believe him, to pretend that love could be enough to keep you safe. But it’s not. It never has been.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you choke out, your voice breaking, the fear and the love warring inside you.

“You won’t,” he promises, his lips brushing your forehead, soft and reverent. “I’ll tear down the heavens themselves before I let that happen.”

His arms pull you back into him, and you cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. In his embrace, you feel both safe and utterly doomed. You’re trapped between two worlds—the love you feel for him, and the reality of what you are to each other.

For now, in the quiet of the night, you let yourself forget. Forget the palace walls, the crown that weighs heavy on his head, the consequences that lurk around every corner.

In this moment, all that matters is him. The way he holds you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, the way his lips press against yours, slow and full of a need that never seems to fade.

But in the back of your mind, you know this will end. It has to. And when it does, it will shatter you both.

The moment you pull away from Loki’s kiss, reality crashes back with a force that steals your breath. His arms still hold you, but the cold bite of the night air seeps in, reminding you of the walls you’re trapped between. You bury your face in his chest, hoping to hide from the truth, but it’s already too late.

A sudden, echoing sound breaks through the quiet—footsteps, distant but approaching. Too close.

Loki stiffens instantly, his body tense and alert. His hand grips your arm as he pulls you further into the shadows, his expression sharp and calculating. Your heart leaps into your throat as panic grips you. Someone’s coming. Someone knows.

“Stay here,” he whispers urgently, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low but firm. “Don’t move.”

“Loki—”

Before you can protest, he slips into the darkness, silent as a shadow. You press yourself against the cold stone wall, your mind racing, every second dragging on as fear gnaws at you. If you’re found here, like this, with him, it will be the end of everything. There’s no escaping the consequences this time.

The footsteps grow louder, and you can’t breathe, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. Then, from the shadows, you hear voices—deep and commanding.

Odin.

You nearly sink to the floor in horror, every muscle in your body seizing as the realization crashes over you. Loki’s father, the Allfather himself, is here. And if he’s here…

“Loki,” Odin’s voice booms, sharp and filled with authority, cutting through the night like ice. “Step forward.”

There’s a pause, a silence so thick it’s suffocating. You can barely make out Loki’s form as he steps forward into the light of the courtyard, facing his father. The tension between them is palpable, thick like smoke.

“I wondered where you had slipped away to,” Odin continues, his voice cold, though laced with something dangerous. “Is there a reason you’re skulking about in the shadows like a common thief, my son?”

Loki stands tall, but you can see the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands are clenched at his sides. You know he’s holding back, trying to mask the fury and fear beneath the surface. “I needed air, Father,” he replies smoothly, though the edge in his voice betrays him. “I find the court’s company rather… tedious.”

Odin’s gaze sharpens, as if he sees right through the lie. “Air, indeed.” His voice lowers, his next words heavy with unspoken meaning. “You’ve been distracted lately. More than usual.”

Your blood runs cold. He knows. He has to know.

“I expect your full attention on the matter at hand,” Odin continues, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your betrothal must be finalized soon.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Betrothal.

You feel the world tilt beneath your feet, nausea churning in your stomach. Betrothal? What is he talking about?

Loki doesn’t react at first, but you can see the slight twitch in his brow, the flicker of anger that darkens his features.

“There will be no betrothal,” Loki says through clenched teeth, his voice dangerously low.

Odin’s eyes narrow, and for the first time, you hear the warning in his tone. “You have no choice, Loki. As a prince of Asgard, you are bound to your duty. We have an alliance to secure. You will marry Lady Sigyn, and the arrangements will proceed as planned.”

Lady Sigyn. The name rings in your ears like a death knell.

Loki’s jaw tightens, fury flashing across his face. “I won’t be a pawn in your games, Father.”

“You will do what is required of you,” Odin thunders, his voice leaving no room for defiance. “This is not a debate.”

Your legs threaten to give out beneath you, but you force yourself to stay hidden, clutching at the stone wall to keep yourself upright. He’s going to marry someone else. It feels like your heart is being ripped from your chest, the agony too much to bear.

“I don’t care about your alliances or your politics,” Loki spits, his control slipping as the rage breaks through. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand more than you think,” Odin snaps, stepping forward, towering over Loki. “You’re blinded by foolishness, by her.”

Her. The word hangs in the air, sharp and cruel.

You.

The blood drains from your face, your heart seizing in panic. Odin knows. He’s known all along.

“This servant girl has no place in your life,” Odin declares, his voice filled with disdain. “She is beneath you, beneath the throne. I will not allow you to throw away your future for something so meaningless.”

Loki’s entire body tenses, fury radiating off him in waves. “She is not meaningless,” he growls, his voice venomous, his control slipping further. “You don’t know anything about what she means to me.”

“And you will forget her,” Odin commands, his tone final and merciless. “If you refuse to do your duty, then she will be sent away, far from Asgard, where you will never see her again.”

A sob catches in your throat, but you swallow it down, your vision blurring with unshed tears. He would banish you. Rip you away from Loki, from everything. The love you’ve kept secret, the love that burns so brightly it hurts—destroyed.

“No,” Loki’s voice is a low, dangerous growl, but there’s an edge of desperation to it. “You can’t take her from me.”

Odin’s eyes blaze with cold fire. “I can. And I will.”

The silence that follows is deafening. You don’t move, don’t breathe, waiting for the moment to shatter. But Loki—Loki steps closer to his father, his eyes burning with defiance.

“If you take her from me,” Loki says quietly, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage, “you’ll lose me too.”

The words hang in the air like a threat, the tension between them palpable, and for a moment, the night itself seems to hold its breath.

But Odin’s face hardens. “You would forsake your family, your throne, for her?”

Loki doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched, his breath shallow. Finally, he speaks, his voice low but firm. “I already have.”

Odin stares at him, disbelief flickering across his face, before his expression turns cold, harder than ever. “Then you are no son of mine.”

The words cut deeper than any sword, and you feel the sharp sting of tears spill over as the weight of them sinks in. Loki stands there, frozen for a moment, his face betraying the pain he feels, even if he tries to hide it. Then, without another word, Odin turns and strides away, his footsteps echoing through the night, leaving you and Loki alone in the suffocating silence.

Loki stands there for a long moment, staring at where his father had been, his chest rising and falling with the effort to keep his emotions in check. Then, slowly, he turns to you, his face pale, his eyes dark with anguish.

“I’ve lost him,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of his choice is only now sinking in.

You step toward him, your heart breaking for him, for both of you, but the words won’t come. All you can do is reach for him, pulling him into your arms, holding him as tightly as you can, as if you could somehow shield him from the world crashing down around you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

Loki’s arms wrap around you, and for a moment, it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the universe, clinging to each other amidst the wreckage. But you know—deep down—you can’t escape the truth forever.

You’ve both lost too much.

And the worst is yet to come.

The decision gnaws at you for days, eating away at your soul like a poison you can’t expel. Each moment you spend with Loki after that night feels like borrowed time, a dream on the verge of ending. You know what you have to do, but the thought of it turns your stomach, fills you with a dread so deep it feels as if it’s suffocating you.

But you also know why you have to do it.

Loki would never leave you. He would burn the Nine Realms down before he let anyone take you from him. But that’s precisely why you must be the one to leave.

Loki needs his father’s approval more than he’ll ever admit, more than he even realizes. Beneath the layers of defiance, anger, and rebellion, there is still a part of him—perhaps the most fragile part—that craves Odin’s acceptance, his love. You’ve seen the way Loki’s face tightens every time Odin’s words cut too deep, the way his heart breaks a little more with every dismissal. He hides it well from the world, but not from you. Never from you.

And now, because of you, that fragile part of him has been shattered.

The memory of Odin’s voice still echoes in your mind, cold and merciless: “Then you are no son of mine.” You remember the way Loki’s breath caught, the brief flicker of pain that crossed his face before he masked it with anger. But you saw it. You felt it.

This is not what you wanted for him. Not this rift, not this war between him and his father. He’s lost too much already, and you can’t be the reason he loses more. You can’t be the reason he’s torn apart, trying to balance his love for you and his duty to his family.

You make your decision, the weight of it crashing down on you with a finality that leaves you breathless.

You’ll leave. You’ll exile yourself to Midgard—Earth—where no one will find you. Where no one will look. You’ll disappear from his life, make it seem like you were taken, lost, or gone by choice. If he believes you’ve left, if he thinks you’ve moved on, then maybe—just maybe—he’ll do what he must. He’ll marry Lady Sigyn, secure his place as prince, and perhaps… perhaps he’ll finally earn the approval he’s always longed for.

It will destroy you. You know this. But if it saves him, it will be worth it.

That night, you leave without a word.

You wait until the palace is asleep, the halls quiet, only the distant sound of guards patrolling. You know this place too well by now, know the hidden corridors, the back passageways where no one will notice you slipping away. Your heart hammers in your chest, every step feeling heavier than the last, but you push through the pain.

The small bag you carry feels like a weight tethering you to the ground. Inside are only the essentials—things you will need to survive on Earth. It feels wrong, surreal, to leave behind everything you’ve ever known, but it’s a small price to pay for Loki’s future.

As you pass through the courtyard, the moon hangs low in the sky, casting a pale, silver light over Asgard. It feels like the last time you’ll ever see it—your home, the place where you fell in love with a prince you never should have touched. Your throat tightens, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

The Bifrost glows in the distance, a beacon of escape, and your steps quicken, though every part of you screams to turn back. You’ll leave through the Bifrost, beg Heimdall to send you to Midgard. You pray he will understand, that he’ll let you go without question.

But as you near the Rainbow Bridge, something stops you in your tracks.

A figure stands in your path, his golden eyes glowing beneath his helm. Heimdall.

You knew he would be here, guarding the way to the other realms, but the intensity of his gaze as it falls upon you makes you falter. He sees everything, knows what you intend before you even speak.

“Heimdall, I—” Your voice trembles, but you force yourself to stand tall, to speak with conviction. “I need you to send me to Midgard. Please.”

Heimdall says nothing at first, his gaze piercing through you, as if reading every secret, every hidden intention behind your eyes. The weight of his silence is crushing.

“Do you truly believe leaving will solve anything?” he asks, his voice low, but full of knowing. “Do you think disappearing will bring him peace?”

Tears sting your eyes, but you shake your head, biting down the sob that claws its way up your throat. “He can’t lose everything because of me. He needs to stay here. He needs to—”

“To marry another woman and live in misery?” Heimdall’s gaze softens, just barely. “Loki would never forgive himself. Or you.”

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, trying to keep your voice steady. “He will. In time. He will forget me, and he’ll be what his father wants him to be.”

Heimdall’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a heaviness to his words when he speaks again. “Loki loves you more than you know. His path may be fraught with darkness, but losing you will plunge him deeper into it than you realize.”

You freeze at his words, the full weight of them sinking into your chest. A part of you knows he’s right. Loki’s love for you is boundless, a consuming fire that would burn anything in its path to keep you safe. But that’s why you have to leave. It’s the only way to keep him from losing more than he already has.

“He’ll survive,” you whisper, the words almost breaking you. “He’ll find a way to live without me.”

Heimdall’s gaze holds yours for a long, agonizing moment. “Perhaps. But will you survive without him?”

The question feels like a blow to your chest, and for a moment, the resolve you’ve built crumbles. You can’t imagine a world without Loki. Can’t imagine a life where you don’t feel his hands pulling you close in the dead of night, his voice whispering your name like a sacred thing.

But that’s why you have to do this.

“I have to try,” you choke out, your tears finally falling freely. “He needs his family. He needs his father. He needs to be what Asgard wants him to be.”

Heimdall watches you for a moment longer, his eyes filled with something that looks almost like sorrow. But then, slowly, he steps aside, clearing your path to the Bifrost.

“If this is your choice,” he says quietly, “I will not stop you.”

You stare at the shimmering path before you, the way to Midgard open, the escape you so desperately sought now within reach. But now that you’re standing on the brink of it, your heart feels like it’s being torn in two.

Without another word, you take a step forward, and then another. Each step feels heavier than the last, like your heart is shattering with every inch you put between yourself and Asgard—between yourself and him.

Just as you reach the edge of the Bifrost, you stop, one final thought seizing you.

Loki will wake, and he’ll look for you. He’ll search every corner of the realm, desperate to find you, to pull you back into his arms. But you won’t be there.

You press a hand to your chest, willing the pain to subside, but it only deepens. And then, before you can second-guess yourself, you step into the beam of light and let it take you.

As you’re pulled toward Midgard, the last image that flashes in your mind is Loki’s face—his eyes, his smile, the way he said your name like a promise.

And then it’s gone, along with everything you ever knew.

The moment Loki wakes, something feels wrong. The cold weight of the bed beside him, where you should be, is empty. His hand moves to the space where you usually lie, expecting to find the warmth of your body, but there’s nothing. The absence hits him like a sudden plunge into icy water, and panic claws at his chest.

“Y/N?”

His voice echoes in the room, but only silence answers.

He sits up quickly, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes scan the dimly lit chamber, searching for any sign of you—your cloak tossed on a chair, your hairpin on the table, anything. But the room is empty. Too empty. His gut twists as dread coils within him.

You’ve vanished.

He throws on his cloak and storms out of the room, a desperate, wild energy propelling him forward. His mind races, a hundred possibilities flashing through his head, each worse than the last. Where could you have gone? You wouldn’t leave him without saying anything. You wouldn’t.

He searches the palace, every hallway, every hidden alcove where you might have retreated. Each passing minute tightens the vice around his heart, and a dark, sickening fear begins to take root.

It’s only when he reaches the gardens that he spots Heimdall, standing still, his gaze fixed far beyond the realm of Asgard.

“Where is she?” Loki demands, his voice sharp, though beneath it, there’s a tremor of fear. “Heimdall, where is she?”

The gatekeeper’s golden eyes shift toward him, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of sympathy, a look that confirms Loki’s worst suspicions.

“She’s gone,” Heimdall says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of sorrow.

Loki’s heart plummets, the ground seeming to tilt beneath him. “Gone?” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Where?”

Heimdall doesn’t answer immediately, but the silence speaks volumes. Loki’s eyes narrow, anger flashing in them like a storm. “Where?”

“Midgard,” Heimdall finally says, the word falling between them like a death sentence. “She left… to spare you.”

The words don’t register at first. Loki stares at Heimdall, his mind struggling to make sense of it. You… left? To spare him? It feels impossible, unreal, like some cruel trick the Norns themselves had spun just to watch him unravel.

“She left because she believed it would save you,” Heimdall continues, his voice gentle but firm. “To make you fulfill your duty. To win back your father’s approval.”

Loki’s body goes rigid, his chest tightening painfully as the full weight of it hits him. You’d left him. You’d sacrificed yourself, your happiness, to give him something he never even wanted—a hollow peace with his father, a loveless marriage that would tie him to a woman he didn’t care for.

“No…” The word tumbles from his lips, broken, as if by saying it, he could undo the truth. “No, she wouldn’t… she couldn’t…” But even as he says it, he knows it’s exactly what you would do. You would throw yourself into the abyss if it meant saving him, even if it destroyed you in the process.

The pain is unbearable. The thought of you, alone on Midgard, thinking that leaving was the only way to save him—it rips through him like a blade. His vision blurs, the edges of his world collapsing in on itself. He turns on his heel, moving before he even knows what he’s doing.

He’ll find you. He’ll bring you back. Nothing will stop him. Not his father, not this cursed marriage, not the Nine Realms themselves.

But just as he storms toward the Bifrost, the familiar voice of his mother stops him in his tracks.

“Loki.”

Frigga’s voice is soft but firm, and when he turns to face her, her expression is filled with concern, with sadness. “I know what you’re thinking, but you cannot go after her.”

“Why not?” Loki snaps, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. “Why should I stay here and let her go? I won’t.”

Frigga steps closer, her eyes searching his face. “Because your father has commanded it. And because you must meet Lady Sigyn today. The arrangements have already been made.”

Loki’s blood runs cold. Sigyn. His betrothed. The woman he’s being forced to marry.

His fists clench at his sides, his mind screaming at him to refuse, to defy his father’s every order, but the weight of his mother’s words, of Odin’s power over him, crashes down like a hammer. For a moment, he’s paralyzed—trapped between the burning desire to chase after you and the crushing reality of his duty.

“I can’t,” he breathes, shaking his head. “I can’t marry her, Mother. Not when—”

Frigga’s hand rests gently on his arm, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I know, my son. But for now, you must.”

The meeting with Lady Sigyn is nothing short of torturous.

The grand hall where the introductions take place feels stifling, every gilded surface mocking him, every face around the table a reminder of the farce he’s being forced to play. Lady Sigyn stands before him, dressed in the finest Asgardian silks, her long blonde hair flowing like a waterfall down her back. She is every inch the perfect noblewoman, her posture elegant, her beauty undeniable.

But Loki can’t see her. Not really.

Every time his eyes fall on her, all he sees is you. Your laugh, your touch, your smile when you tease him in private moments. Every word Sigyn speaks fades into background noise, drowned out by the memories of your voice, the softness of it when you whispered his name in the dark.

“I hope this union will bring peace to our realms,” Sigyn says, her voice calm, rehearsed, a woman born to play this role. She speaks of duty and honor, of the alliance their marriage will secure.

Loki nods, his jaw tight, but his mind is a thousand miles away.

He remembers how you would laugh at the absurdity of formalities, how you would roll your eyes at the very thought of grand speeches like this. You were never afraid to speak your mind to him, never afraid to push him, to make him feel real. Sigyn’s words, though perfectly crafted, feel like ash in his mouth, a hollow echo of something he cannot connect to.

When she reaches for his hand, Loki almost recoils, the touch foreign, unwelcome. He lets her take it, but it’s wrong. Her fingers feel cold, delicate but empty. They’re not your hands, not the hands he’s craved, not the touch he would burn worlds for.

The more Sigyn speaks, the more unbearable it becomes. Her beauty, her grace, her calm demeanor—it’s everything Asgard expects of its princess. But Loki doesn’t want perfection. He doesn’t want her. He wants the fire, the passion, the laughter that only you could bring him.

He wants you.

As the meeting drags on, Loki’s mind spirals, twisting in on itself. How could he be standing here, listening to the woman he’s supposed to marry, when the only woman who truly owns his heart is gone? He doesn’t care about alliances, about politics, about securing his place in Asgard. All of it is meaningless without you.

The pain of your absence is suffocating, a wound that will never heal. You, who sacrificed everything for him, who left so that he might live the life Odin had planned for him. And now he’s here, going through the motions, trapped in a future that feels like a prison.

Sigyn’s voice fades again, and all Loki can think of is finding you, holding you in his arms, telling you that he doesn’t care about his father’s approval. That he would give up his throne, his title, everything — if only you would come back to him.

Because without you, none of it means anything at all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It’s strange, this new life you’ve carved out for yourself on Midgard.

At first, it was jarring—too quiet, too mundane, and too empty. The absence of Asgard's grand halls, the shimmering skies, the bustling sounds of a realm so unlike this one… and the absence of him. The silence was the worst part. You had grown so used to Loki’s presence—his wry comments, his wit, the way his voice could fill any room, soft yet commanding. The nights felt impossibly long without his warmth beside you.

But eventually, you adapted. You had to.

Days turned into weeks, and then into months, and you forced yourself to settle into this new reality. You found a job—something simple, something that kept your mind busy and your hands occupied, so you wouldn’t think too much about what you left behind. The people here were kind, in a way that felt foreign but comforting. They didn’t ask questions about who you were or where you came from, and for that, you were grateful.

But no matter how much time passed, there was always a hollow space inside you, a part of you that felt incomplete. You could pretend, most days, that you were fine—that you had made peace with your decision. But every now and then, when you walked home alone, when you lay in your bed at night staring at the ceiling, the ache in your chest would return, sharp and unforgiving.

You still thought of him. You wondered how he was, whether he’d married Sigyn, whether he had found some semblance of happiness without you. Whether he had moved on.

Whether he missed you as much as you missed him.

It’s been a long day at work, and your legs ache as you make your way up the stairs to your small apartment. The autumn air is crisp, the streets of Midgard quiet and peaceful as you climb the last few steps, your breath coming out in small clouds. You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, mind drifting to the usual thoughts of dinner and maybe a long bath.

You push the door open, kicking it shut behind you with a sigh of relief, and set your bag down. The apartment is dark, just as you left it this morning. You reach for the light switch, but before your fingers even touch it, you feel it.

The presence.

A chill runs down your spine. You know this feeling—the prickle of awareness, the way the air seems to shift around you. It’s the feeling of someone powerful, someone familiar, watching you. Your heart races as you turn slowly, your breath catching in your throat.

He’s there.

Loki stands in the corner of your apartment, bathed in shadows, but there’s no mistaking him. His tall, lean frame, his raven hair falling just past his shoulders, and those piercing green eyes that seem to see straight through you. For a moment, you can’t breathe. You can’t think.

It’s like he’s stepped out of a dream—one you’ve had so many times it hurts. But this… this is no dream.

“Loki…” His name slips from your lips, a whisper, a question, a prayer all at once.

He doesn’t move at first, just watches you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. There’s something unreadable in his gaze—something darker, more raw than you’ve ever seen before.

“You left,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. There’s no anger in it, no accusation, but the pain beneath the words is unmistakable. “You left without telling me.”

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest. There’s so much you want to say, so much you need to explain, but the words stick in your throat. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. All the reasons, all the justifications you told yourself back then seem to crumble in the face of his presence.

“I…” You force the words out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I had to.”

Loki steps forward, and in the dim light, you can see the shadows under his eyes, the way his face is drawn, as though he hasn’t slept in days—weeks, maybe. There’s a desperation in his movements, a restrained storm beneath his calm exterior.

“Had to?” His voice is sharper now, the hurt lacing every syllable. “You had to disappear? You had to leave me without a word, without a trace, as if we meant nothing to each other?”

You flinch at the raw pain in his words, and your heart aches with the weight of it. You take a step toward him, shaking your head. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to. Loki, you have to understand—I thought I was doing what was best for you. Your father, the marriage… I couldn’t stand in the way of your future. I couldn’t be the reason you lost everything.”

Loki’s eyes flash with something fierce, something bordering on rage. “My future?” He laughs, but it’s a bitter, hollow sound. “You think any of that matters to me without you? You think I would trade you for a throne I never wanted? For a father’s approval that means nothing to me?”

You stare at him, frozen, your mind reeling. “But… I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” he cuts in, his voice hard, but his eyes soften as they lock onto yours. “I didn’t want any of it. Not the marriage, not Asgard’s politics, not my father’s favor. All I ever wanted was you.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. The words you longed to hear, the ones you feared you never would—they hang in the air between you, heavy with truth and regret.

“Loki…” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I… I left so you could be free.”

“Free?” His eyes darken, and he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that the familiar scent of him—magic, leather, and something inherently Loki—wraps around you like a fog. “I’ve never been more imprisoned than in the moment you were gone.”

You blink back tears, your vision blurring as his words sink in. The months of separation, of silence, of convincing yourself you were doing the right thing—it all unravels in a single moment.

“I thought I was saving you,” you confess, your voice cracking. “I thought I was doing what was right.”

Loki’s hands reach out, and before you can even process it, his fingers are gently cupping your face, his touch so familiar, so warm. “You were always what was right,” he murmurs, his voice breaking with emotion. “I didn’t want their approval. I didn’t want their expectations. All I wanted was you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, and before you know it, you’re collapsing into his arms, the months of pain and loneliness crashing down all at once. He pulls you close, his grip tight, as if afraid you’ll vanish again if he lets go. His lips press against your hair, your temple, every touch a reassurance that he’s here—that this is real.

“I searched everywhere for you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I tore through realms to find you. And now that I have, I’m not letting you go again. Not ever.”

You cling to him, your face buried in his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The weight of your decision, the months of agony, seem to melt away in his embrace, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to breathe.

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Loki,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, brushing a tear from your cheek with a tenderness that undoes you. “You don’t need to be. We’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

And as his lips meet yours in a kiss that is both desperate and gentle, filled with all the words that were left unsaid, you know he’s right.

The decision isn’t made lightly, but once Loki has you back in his arms, there’s no going back. Not to Asgard’s grand halls, not to the suffocating weight of duty, and certainly not to the life his father had tried to carve out for him. He’s already wasted too much time, bound by the expectations of others.

So he stays. On Midgard. With you.

It’s a wild, audacious choice—and exactly the kind of thing Loki would do.

The transition, however, is a bit… rocky.

A few days after he’s settled into your apartment, you come home from work to find him sitting on the couch, staring at the TV remote like it’s some kind of strange artifact. He holds it up the moment you walk in.

“What is this infernal device?” he asks, his voice laced with frustration, as if the small piece of plastic has personally wronged him. “I’ve been trying to command this ‘box of illusions’ to show me something worth watching for hours!”

You stifle a laugh, biting your lip as you take off your coat. “That’s… a TV remote, Loki. You’re supposed to press the buttons, not talk to it.”

His brow furrows, clearly unimpressed. “Ridiculous,” he mutters, tossing the remote aside with a look of disdain. “Why should I be at the mercy of these buttons when I have the power to bend reality?”

“Because,” you say, walking over to him and taking a seat on the couch, “here on Midgard, we use buttons. And reality-bending might raise some eyebrows with the neighbors.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue, though you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Midgardians and their absurd contraptions…” he mutters under his breath, but then he turns to you, his expression softening as he reaches for your hand. “At least you’re worth all of this.”

You can’t help but smile, leaning into him as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I’m glad you think so.”

The adjustment to Midgardian life isn’t just about TV remotes, though. Loki, for all his godlike powers and silver-tongued brilliance, is… well, a little out of his element in this new world.

For instance, grocery shopping.

The first time you take him to a supermarket, he stands in the produce aisle, staring at the variety of fruits and vegetables as if they’ve personally offended him.

“Why are there so many kinds of apples?” he demands, picking up a Granny Smith and inspecting it with suspicion. “What is the difference between this and the others?”

“They’re just different types, Loki,” you explain, grabbing a couple of apples and putting them in your basket. “You’ll get used to it.”

He narrows his eyes, still unconvinced, before tossing the apple back into the pile. “Midgard is an odd place.”

But despite his grumbling, you can tell he’s slowly warming up to it. There’s a lightness to him now that you haven’t seen in so long. A freedom. Without Asgard’s heavy expectations looming over him, Loki is… different. Lighter. Happier.

Of course, he still has his dramatic moments.

One evening, you come home to find Loki pacing the living room with a determined look on his face, wearing your floral apron—the one with little daisies on it—while holding a spatula like it’s a weapon of great importance.

“Darling,” he declares the moment you walk through the door, “I have decided to master the art of Midgardian cuisine.”

You blink at him, trying very hard not to laugh at the sight of Loki, Prince of Asgard, dressed in a flowery apron and looking deadly serious. “Is that so?”

He nods gravely. “Indeed. You deserve the finest of meals, prepared by the finest of hands.” He pauses, glancing toward the kitchen with a frown. “However, these ‘instructions’ you provided me with are… unnecessarily complicated.”

You peer into the kitchen, where you spot an open cookbook lying on the counter, pages spattered with flour and other mysterious substances. Loki has clearly attempted something—whether it’s edible or not is another question.

“Okay,” you say, stepping closer to inspect the chaos. “What exactly were you trying to make?”

“Something called… spaghetti?” He says the word like it’s in another language, which, technically, it is. “It seemed simple enough, but this… pasta refused to cooperate.”

You stifle a laugh, eyeing the pot of overcooked noodles sitting in the sink. “I think you might’ve boiled it a little too long.”

“Too long?” Loki frowns, clearly offended by the suggestion. “It was behaving most stubbornly. I merely asserted my dominance.”

“That’s… not how cooking works, Loki.”

He huffs, folding his arms. “Midgardian food is clearly inferior. I’ll never understand why you enjoy it so much.”

You chuckle, reaching up to wipe a streak of flour from his cheek. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

He leans into your touch, his frustration melting away as he pulls you into his arms. “For you, I would do far worse than battle rebellious pasta.”

“I know,” you say softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But maybe we should just order pizza.”

He sighs dramatically, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “If we must.”

Despite the quirks and the occasional mishap, there’s something incredibly sweet about watching Loki navigate this new life. He’s traded his princely titles and royal duties for quiet evenings with you, for late-night walks through the city, for the simple joy of waking up next to you without the weight of Asgard on his shoulders.

And it’s not just about what he’s given up—it’s about what he’s gained. Here, with you, he’s free to be himself, without the judgment of his father or the expectations of the court. He’s no longer Loki, the Trickster Prince. He’s just… Loki.

And as the two of you sit together on the couch, sharing a pizza (which Loki begrudgingly admits is quite good), he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice warm and low, “I never thought I could be happy like this. But you… you make everything worth it.”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “I feel the same way.”

There’s a moment of quiet, the two of you just enjoying each other’s presence. And then Loki, ever the trickster, grins down at you.

“But I am going to master that television contraption,” he says, his tone utterly serious. “It will not defeat me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Whatever you say, Loki.”

And as the night stretches on, with him beside you, you realize that this—this simple, beautiful life—is more than you ever dreamed of. It’s not the palace of Asgard or the grandeur of the realms, but it’s yours. And that’s all that matters.

Because as long as you’re with Loki, wherever you are, it will always feel like home.

[davidlcki]

Blood Bond

Summary: after bob taylor’s death, you and your police partner loki have to work through the trauma together.

Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGERS IN THIS!!! suicide, lots of blood, cursing, drinking. this whole thing is just sad lol

words: 3,380

There was something beautiful about the bond formed within a traumatic event. Somehow, even in your state, you thought about this. You could feel the shift between you and Loki as he placed his hands on your cheeks, shaking you lightly as a desperate pleas spill from his lips, an attempt to will you back to reality.

His palms slid against your cheeks that were slick with blood. The feeling made you sick. It wasn’t your own blood, of course. But Bob Taylor’s. The man that had been questioned relentlessly by your police force- well- mostly Loki. Loki could only keep his cool for so long. You tried to take over the interrogation, but he was too stubborn to ever let that happen. One thing led to another, and in a blink of an eye Bob had his hands on Lokis gun. You tried. You tried with every fiber of your being to get him to drop it. Whilst the rest of the officers in the room pointed their guns and screamed with rage, you never touched yours.

“Bob… look at me. You don’t wanna do this, okay?” you were close. Almost in arms reach of him. He was listening to you, even through the shouting, he heard you. You continued to inch forwards. “All you have to do, is answer our questions. It’s no trouble. Please, just put the gun down.” you stop, mere inches from being able to grab the gun, but you were too late. Bob looked you dead in the eyes as he brought the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger.

You don’t remember falling to the ground, but you do remember the ringing in your ears and the oddly warm feeling of his blood trickling down your face. Loki hooked his arms under yours and dragged you backwards before kneeling down in front of you, blocking the sight of Bobs body. It took a second for his words to reach your ears.

“Y/N! god… jesus…” he didn’t know what to say. You noticed how badly his hands were shaking as he grabbed your face. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, you could only look at him. You noticed how blue his eyes were as you stared into them in a trance that you didn’t know how to get out of. Finally, he lifted you to your feet by your arms, basically dragging you out of the interrogation room. You followed on numb legs as he pulled you all the way to the bathrooms, pushing you down to a sitting position on a bench by the sinks. The dim blue fluorescent lights flickered unpredictably above you.

“Y/N, honey, are you hurt?” his voice was soft and brought you back to reality a little. You had the mind to shake your head no, though if you were you were sure you wouldn’t have felt it. You looked down at your hands in your lap as loki wet a rag in the sink. Your hands, shirt, hair, face, pants, they were speckled with blood. You looked like a sick art project. You decide shut your eyes for a while, allowing Loki to wipe your face down gently. After a while, he speaks.

“Hey, I need you to say something.”

You look at him. Even though you felt numb, there were tears falling down your cheeks, and when you finally opened your mouth to speak, you felt it. A sharp, stabbing, murderous pain.

“I…i’m, I don’t,” your words quickly deteriorated to sobs that violently took over your body. Loki pulled you by your shoulder into him, allowing you to cry into the crook of his neck.

You had only been lokis partner for a month or two, and were very new to the police force. You had never witnessed a murder before, and especially not a suicide by gunshot a foot away from you.

“I’m gonna take you home, alright? Can you get up?” You nod against him as loki ran a hand up and down your back gently as he spoke softly into the silence of the bathroom. You notice the blood that you left seeping into his light blue button up shirt. You wondered if he’d be upset at this.

When you exited the bathroom, you passed by the interrogation room again. Bobs body was gone, but his crimson blood remained. On the walls, on the floor. There was a large smear where you had fell and Loki dragged you backwards. You were dully aware of the way loki brushed off every officer that tried to talk to him. You were sure youd have to fill out some kind of paperwork and have a stern talking to by o’malley, but the sight of you was enough for everyone to back off for now.

The ride home in his car was dead silent. You didn’t dare move. You were afraid that if you did, you’d crumble into a million pieces. Instead, you started down at your lap, counting the flecks of now dried blood that you’d never get out of these clothes.

“You have a very nice place.” Lokis words shot through you like lightning. You didn’t know why. You were too in your head, you guessed. You hardly remembered the walk from the car into your home.

“Thank you.” you look over at him slowly, noticing the look of deep guilt on his features. You’d never seen him show so much emotion before in the short time that you had known him. He stood awkwardly near the island in your kitchen, not sure what to do next.

“Do you… need help, with anything right now? First things first you should probably take a bath.” he looked at you like a lost puppy as he waited for you to say something. You could tell he wasn’t good at this comforting thing, so you figured it best to be blunt.

“I don’t think I Can bathe myself right now.” in reality you knew that was a weird thing to say to your police partner of 3 months, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care right now. You needed someone there otherwise you were afraid you might drown in the tub, or get in and never have the will to get back out. Loki dosent hesitate with his answer.

“Yeah… yeah, I can help.” he slips his jacket off and places it over the back of one of your dining room chairs. You avoided looking at the blood stains on his light blue shirt. You show him to the bathroom, watching as he starts a bath. You stood with your arms and legs apart ever so slightly so they wouldn’t touch your sides or each other. You felt disgusting. You refused to move unless you had to. The feeling of the dried blood cracking with each movement on your skin made you want to faint.

Within the blink of an eye, the bath was full, and clouds of white bubbles floated upon the top of the water, calling you to step in. Loki looked up at you from his crouched position in front of the tub. He opened his mouth to say something, you assumed along the lines of ‘the baths ready’ but you didn’t let him continue. Your movements were swift as you pulled your shirt above your head and slipped out of your pants. You didn’t realize how eager you were to get them off of you. You tossed them into the trashcan that sat beside the toilet. Loki, flustered, turned his head away from you. When you were fully stripped, you turn to take a look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. There was smeared blood across your face where Loki had previously tried to clean you off. It was in your hair, and down your neck, cascading between your breasts and stopping at where your bra previously sat against your skin. You couldn’t look anymore. Slowly, you turned towards the tub and stepped in. Once you had settled, Loki finally pulled his head up to look at you. His brows had been furrowed in this expression of worry and guilt for the past however long it had been since the incident, and somehow you were just now taking note of it. You looked at each other for a long while, but nothing was said. Finally, Loki broke eye contact, grabbed a rag, and dipped it beneath the bath water. He gently took your chin in his free hand, turning your face towards him so he could gingerly wipe your face clean. He dragged the cloth down your neck, and inbetween your breasts, until all the blood was tinting the water instead of your skin. Nothing was said. The two of you seemed to be deep in thought. On a normal day, this interaction would have made you faint. But this wasn’t a normal day. Loki ran soap and water through your hair a few times until the water stopped coming out red, before draining all the water. You watched in a trance as the water and bubbles swirled out of sight. You hardly noticed the fact that Loki had pulled you from the tub and wrapped a towel around your naked shivering frame.

“Hey” Lokis voice was stern this time. You shifted your eyes to look at him. “I need you to look at me. Really, look at me. I can see you replaying what happened over and over. I know, it’s happened to me. It’s easy to get stuck. I want you to get dressed for me, alright? I’ll stay overnight with you.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk for this long unprompted. You were seeing a new side of him.

“Okay. thank you, David.” you give him a firm look before stepping past him and into your room. You knew he was shocked at the use of his first name, But you thought it appropriate for the situation.

Being clean made you feel a lot better. You shook the sight of Bob from your thoughts for the 100th time and quickly threw on the first clothes you grabbed in your pajama drawer, which happened to be a pair of shorts and a police force shirt that was given to you way too many sizes too big. When you walked into the kitchen, things seemed more awkward now. Or maybe you were just more aware. Loki was sitting at your kitchen table, fiddling with one of his rings. He looks up at the sound of your footsteps, a light smile crosses his features. You look away out of embarrassment, remembering he’d seen you completely naked a mere 10 minutes ago.

“You… you really don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” you busy yourself with walking to the cabinets of your kitchen to grab two glasses.

“No, it’s okay. You shouldn’t be alone after going through something like this.” Loki watches as you nod and head over to grab water, though stopping at the small collection of liquor sitting on your counter.

“Water or whiskey?” you ask him, forcing a light smile onto your face at your weak attempt at a joke.

“Guess” is all he said. You poured two glasses of whiskey and sat across from him at the table.

“I would say try to completely forget about it, but when you go back you’re going to be bombarded with questions. If someone dosent show up to your doorstep, that is.”

“Well…” you pause for a while, swirling the liquid and taking a sip before continuing. “I don’t know if im ever going back. I’ll sign whatever papers they need and make a statement but…” you let out a large sigh, not having much else to say.

At this, Lokis head shot up to meet his eyes with yours. They were widened with surprise.

“Are… are you sure?” He was looking at you intently, and this shocked you. He seemed afraid.

“No, i’m not sure. But today was a lot. I need to think for a while. Plus, i don’t think anyone really likes me there anyways” You let out a dry laugh. It was true. Most of the officers there gave you snarky looks, and within the short span youve been there you’ve just about heard it all. The entire department thinks your every move was to impress Loki. You knew they were jealous you got to be his partner considering the rep he has, but it still hurt. Especially since you did find Loki crazily attractive, you tried your best to make it look like you didn’t, but your co workers don’t see it that way. Loki nods, his head dipping back down to stare at the little bit of whiskey left in his glass.

“If it gives you any reconciliation, I enjoy having you as my partner.” You meet eyes again, and you cursed yourself as you felt that agonizing pain of butterflies in your stomach. You give a shy smile to match his and you eye his movements as he downs the rest of his drink. You watch his adams apple bob as he swallows, and immediately force yourself to look anywhere else but at him. You decide to change the subject.

“Sorry I don’t have a guest bedroom, but the couch is very comfortable” you gesture over to the couch that sat in front of a tv that was playing whatever was going on in the news. You knew sooner or later Bob Taylor would show up as one of their stories.

Loki shrugs and gets up to put his glass in the sink. “I’d sleep on the floor if I had to.” he smiles softly at you and kicks his shoes off by the door. You rise to your feet and place your glass in the sink as well, making a mental note to wash them out in the morning if you found the energy to. You grab a blanket and comfortable pillow from the chest in your room and bring them back down to Loki.

“Thank you again for staying.” you look up at him for a few beats, before turning on your heel to head to your room. Loki watched you walk off until you were out of sight.

~

Sleep that night was not so forgiving to you. Though you usually had nightmares, the ones you had tonight were plagued with Bob Taylor. The scene played out in a million different ways. In each one, you tried to save him, but it always ended the same. The sound of his blood splattering against the wall was sickening and bounced around your nightmares seemingly endlessly. What you didn’t know, was that as you dreamt in your bed, you were also screaming.

When you opened your eyes, Lokis face was probably a mere 5 inches from yours. He was half on top of you, shaking your shoulders and holding your arms by your sides to stop your thrashing. You woke up with a half yell half sob as the dream continued to replay in your head.

“Hey, hey!” Lokis harsh tone snapped you out of your trance. “Look at me Y/N” his voice was stern and he kept his firm grasp on your wrists, grounding you and keeping you from reeling back into your thoughts. You were near hyperventilating as you looked up at him helplessly. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, leaving wet spots on the pillow on each side of your head.

“I could have fucking stopped it. I could have been quicker I- I-” another sob chokes the rest of your sentence away. Loki begins to loosen his grip on your wrist, moving his right hand to interlock with yours. He gave you a few firn squeezes, assuring you he was right there for you. You squeeze back as an unspoken ‘thank you’. You sit up to face him in the darkness of your bedroom.

“It was my fault. mine. You didn’t do this, You didn’t cause this. It’s not your fault. say that.” he looks at you for a long while, waiting for you to respond. You could see the hurt in his eyes as he spoke, you could see how much the suicide hurt him just as much as it did you.

“I need you to say that Y/N. It’s not your fault.”

Your lip quivers as you speak.

“It’s not my fault”

Loki nods, and you can’t tell if it’s for you or himself. You were both sitting up on the bed, holding hands ahd whispering to each other in the darkness of the room. You could barely make out his face as the moonlight gently seeped through your curtains, but you could tell he was close. Loki closes his eyes, and presses his forehead against yours. This, somehow, was more intimate than any kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed soon after. For a while, neither of you said anything. It was comfortable silence as you reveled in the feeling of his hand interlocked with yours, your breathing in sync as you rested your forehead against his.

The sounds of your sniffling broke the silence. Loki stared into your eyes for a while, unsure of what else he could possibly say to you.

“I don’t think I would have made it through today without you here.” your voice was so quiet that Loki nearly struggled to hear even with your closeness. He found that good reason to tilt his face even closer, causing your noses to touch ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry” he spoke, and this is when you noticed just how close your lips were.

“You couldn’t have known…” you respond. It’s all your mind could come up with. You didn’t know what else you could say, you knew all too well now how hard it is to truly make someone feel better in a situation like this. Either way, your thoughts became clouded as your lips ever so slightly brushed against his as you spoke.

That seemed to be Lokis breaking point. The next thing you knew you were propping yourself up at the force at which he kissed you. It wasn’t soft or gentle, it was rough, raw. You were sure you tasted blood after your teeth clashed together, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was what you needed after the day you both had. His hands were quickly on your body, toned arms pulling you flush against him as he devoured you.

This kiss was different than any you’d had before. You could nearly physically feel the emotion radiating between the two of you. You hardly noticed when Loki pushed you down to your back, head resting on the pillow that was still wet with your tears. He rested inbetween your legs, his hands not roaming but simply pulling you as close as possible to him. You couldn’t gauge how much time had passed, but eventually, the hunger within his kiss seemed to come to a halt. Slowly, your eyes fluttered opened as Loki pulled away. He was still holding you close, but he seemed to have frozen. Your brows furrowed. Did you do something wrong?

“Loki?” your eyes were struggling to make out his facial expression in the dark, but your mind seemed to go over every possibility. Was he mad? Did he change his mind about you?

Suddenly, something dropped onto your cheek. That’s when you realized. He was crying. A small sob, barely audible, escaped his lips as he began to crumble before you. You ran a hand through his hair gently, your heart somehow shattering more than you thought possible as he rested his forehead against your chest, his weight collapsing on top of you.

“Hey. You’re okay, loki. You’re okay.” your voice was merely a whisper as you held his shaking frame.

“What if I can’t find them?” his voice was small and muffled as he spoke into your shirt. Your mind instantly went to the two missing girls that the entire town of Conyers seemed to be relying on your department to find. You felt hopeless. With Your only lead being dead, you were stuck.

“You will. We will. We’ll find them.” you didn’t know if this was more for Loki or yourself.

[fanficshiddles]

New Companion, One Shot

Thank you for the prompt. crimson25: So here's my prompt: Loki has just taken Stark towers and is starting his attack when he notices something. Y/N, she's stark towers mail girl and she's just absent-mindedly doing her job. She has headphones on but had them so loud she can't hear what's happening around her. Well Loki follows her around for a bit. when she finally notices him he decides to play a little game of cat and mouse until he catches her and decides to celebrate his takeover and keep her afterwards

WARNINGS: Rape/non-con

-

Loki grinned wickedly as his plan was unfolding perfectly. The Chitauri did their job of attacking the city and causing enough of a distraction for Loki to take over.

Stark found him in the tower and tried to take him out, but Loki was two steps ahead of him and managed to take him down. His plan of breaking the Avengers up and killing them off had worked, with a little help from the Chitauri.

Now, he had nothing to fear. No one to stop his plan of taking over Earth. One city at a time. He’d have them all on their knees before him, it was just a matter of time…

Loki was pulled from his thoughts when he heard footsteps and someone singing along to a song quietly. Raising an eyebrow, Loki turned on his heels and slowly walked towards the noise.

He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or confused upon seeing a young woman with large headphones on, seemingly delivering mail within the tower. She was completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

She hadn’t noticed that everyone in the building had fled, or that there was a couple of bodies scattered around the floor she was currently on. And she certainly didn’t notice the terrifying Asgardian that was watching her with amusement.

Loki slowly stalked around the room, keeping behind her while she absentmindedly placed mail onto various people’s desks, she still never clicked that there was no one actually at their desks for a change… So oblivious in her own little world of music.

She made her way over towards the lift once she was finished on that floor. Loki kept a distance, but continued to follow her. She was still unaware as she pushed the button for the lower floor and waited for the lift to arrive, still humming along to her music.

When the lift opened, she stepped in and turned around to press the button for the floor she needed. Just as she did so, she looked out onto the floor she had just been on and that’s when she finally noticed Loki.

Her heart stopped and she felt her stomach drop as she took in the room around Loki, too. Noticing a few of the casualties and the destruction. Her eyes widened as the doors closed, Loki smirked widely and gave her a sinister looking wave just as the doors closed.

In a blind panic, she tore off her headphones and began pressing for the ground floor repeatedly.

‘Shit, shit, shit.’ She chanted as the lift felt like it was taking forever to descend.

Her mind was racing, what was he doing here? She had a feeling that was Loki, Thor’s brother. She’d heard Tony and Thor talking about him before, and Thor had mentioned about wearing green and having horns.

She watched with baited breath as the numbers above the door decreased, though then to her horror, the lift groaned to a halt and a big error came up. She pushed heaps of buttons in a panic, the doors tried to open though the lift was groaning and creaking, clearly struggling as the doors only parted a little way.

Using every ounce of strength she had in her, she managed to grab one of the doors and pull it open enough to slide out of. Thankfully it had stopped on a floor, though she had to bend down and slide out as it wasn’t properly lined up, but at least she was out safely.

She made a beeline for the stairs, as she opened the door into the stairwell, she skidded to a halt as Loki was blocking the way.

Loki chuckled in amusement and took a step towards her, his arms outstretched. ‘Where do you think you’re going, hmm? Why don’t you hang around to play for a while?’

The girl backed up and ran in the other direction back onto the floor. She knew the tower like the back of her hand, she’d been working there for the last four years delivering mail daily. So, she was sure she could outsmart Loki and get out. Surely, he wouldn’t know all the different passageways like she did.

Oh, how little did she know.

She had barely made it across the building to the other side, where there was another stairwell, when Loki leapt out from behind a corner at her. Making her jump out of her skin and scream.

Loki laughed wickedly as he rapidly approached her.

‘Please… Let me go… Please don’t kill me.’ She whimpered as she backed away quickly, but she tripped and fell onto her ass. She continued to scramble backwards away from him but he was rapidly gaining on her.

‘What makes you think I’m going to kill you?’ Loki asked curiously as he raised an eyebrow at her.

She managed to scramble round onto her front, to push herself up and she made another run for it, hearing Loki’s laughter echoing around the building.

Heading back towards the first stairwell, she hesitated on opening the door. Looking over her shoulder, she saw no sign of Loki. She slowly opened the door and peeked in, there was no sign of him in there either. So taking a chance, she ran through and began going downstairs.

That didn’t last long, Loki was stood waiting on the lower floor at the bottom of the set of stairs, arms folded over his chest.

‘Do you really think you can outrun me?’ He grinned.

Screeching in fear, she turned and sprinted back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Her legs began to ache from all the running around, but she kept pushing, she had to get away from him.

Emerging back onto the floor, she looked around and decided that since running away wasn’t working, perhaps she should try hiding. Surely, he would leave her alone and give up.

She ran over to the sofa that was in the middle of the hang out room and lay down to crawl underneath it. It was just off the floor enough for her to squeeze underneath.

For a while, there was no sign or sound of Loki. She began to wonder if he had given up, maybe he’d gone back to doing whatever it was he was doing before he spotted her.

Her racing heart slowly went back to normal and she stopped shaking so much. She wasn’t sure how long to wait there for, when would she know it was safe?

Just as she was starting to think it was safe, she heard heavy footsteps that began to get louder and louder. Then she saw his black leather boots come into view. She held her breath to keep quiet as she watched him cross the room to look out of the large floor to ceiling window.

Loki stood there for a moment, then he walked over towards the sofa. She thought she was busted, he must know she was under there… Though he surprised her by sitting down on it instead with a sigh, crossing a leg up over his knee.

His boot was right there on front of her face. She knew if she made a single sound, she’d be caught. She had no idea what he was even doing, was he just taking a break? Was he reading something?

She closed her eyes and tried to space out, to imagine being anywhere else but here.

After what felt like hours, but was actually forty minutes…

‘How long are you going to hide under there for, hmm? Until you get hungry? Need to relieve yourself? Get cramp? What will it be, little mouse?’

His voice sent shivers down her spine. How did he know she was under there? He must’ve been watching her the whole time, somehow. He’d just sat there for this long, just to toy with her. She wanted to scream and cry.

She was frozen to the spot, too scared to move. Though she knew she had no other option. It was either wait here until he had enough and came for her, or until one of what he suggested happened…

‘I have all the time in the world to wait for you, now that I’ve got this city under control… It’ll be easy to work my way around this puny planet. Though finding you, I must say, wasn’t part of my plan. However, it’s been a long time since I’ve had fun with a woman… and I think I deserve a reward, to treat myself for my successful take over.’

She could tell he was grinning, she could hear it in his voice. What he said made her stomach drop, now she knew what his intentions were.

‘I can wait as long as it takes.’

It was another ten minutes that passed before she decided that she couldn’t stay under the sofa forever. Loki clearly had a lot of patience, and she knew that no matter what she did now, she was done for…

She quickly turned herself around and started scrambling out from under the sofa at the back, as soon as she was out, she got up to her knees and was about to get up… but she felt a breeze against her face and suddenly Loki’s boots were in her view, right on front of her.

Slowly she looked up the length of Loki’s ridiculously tall body, his face was plastered with enjoyment.

‘Ah look at you, little mouse. Already on your knees before me, in your rightful place.’ He grinned and put his arms out to the side for dramatic flair.

She scrambled to quickly get up to her feet, before she could take a step to run, Loki reached out and grabbed hold of her upper arm. He hauled her into his firm body, she gasped as he held her tightly to him.

He dipped his head down and ran his nose through her hair, one of his hands slid down her body and he squeezed her ass.

‘Mmm, yes. Now, let’s see all you have to offer.’ He let go of her, though she found she couldn’t move. Her feet were literally frozen to the spot.

She looked down and saw a shimmer of green around her feet. She realised he was using his magic… Her hands were then slowly pulled backwards, until they were restrained behind her back. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t move them.

She looked at Loki with wide eyes just as he swished his hand on front of her and she felt a coolness all over her body. She was butt naked.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the situation as Loki began to stalk around her, eyeing her up and down like a piece of meat.

‘Such perfection… What a pretty little thing you are. And all for me.’ He purred seductively.

His words stunned her for a moment. While this wasn’t a good situation to be in, earning such praise like that from a literal God, did stroke her ego. Loki noticed her slight change in demeanour, too. Even though it was just a split second.

Loki moved in behind her, making her nervous as she couldn’t see him. He slid his hands up and down her sides, caressing her. Then he slid them round and he began playing with her breasts, tweaking her nipples at the same time, sending pleasurable sensations straight through her body.

‘I guess when I take over, I will be in need of a permanent companion… I’m not one to sleep around with multiple people… Would much rather have one dedicated woman to tend to my needs. Perhaps I’ll keep you.’ He whispered into her ear and kissed her shoulder.

He put a hand at the back of her neck and walked her over to the large window, overlooking the burning city. There was still Chitauri soldiers flying around the sky, whizzing right past the window.

Loki pressed her against the glass, so her breasts were squashed and she turned her head so her cheek was pressed up on the glass, too. She felt so embarrassed as some of the alien soldiers turned their heads as they flew by, some did multiple trips to take a look at her.

‘Let them look at you. Let everyone see my new pet. They’ll all know not to dare touch you, because you’re mine now.’ Loki growled and slid a hand down between her thighs.

She tried to keep them closed, but he pinched her inner thighs and then kicked her feet apart, keeping them spread open in place with his seidr.

‘Please… let me go.’ She whined in desperation.

Loki ignored her continued begging for release, and started playing with her clit, her pleas began to fall short, turning into little whines and whimpers instead.

‘That’s it, pet. Let me hear those wonderful noises… They sound as beautiful as you look.’ He hummed into her ear.

Her entire body shivered as he stroked over her clit, her body was becoming more and more aroused with every second that passed. She soon didn’t care about the Chitauri that had began to hover outside, enjoying the show.

Loki sucked and nibbled along her shoulder, to her neck and when he found the right spot, she started to melt. The last of her resolve went flying out the window.

Heck, the world was fucked now anyway. If she wasn’t here being assaulted by the God, she’d likely be one of the dead bodies on the street… Would it really be so bad being Loki’s pet? She certainly didn’t mind what he was doing to her body right now, and at least she would be safe.

‘I can sense your mind racing, pet. Just let yourself go, don’t think anymore. Be mine.’ Loki’s voice was seductively swimming around her mind, and like he was going through her veins…

Her arousal was starting to drip down her thighs, it became more evident when Loki slowly inserted two fingers up into her. He began finger fucking her on front of the Chitauri. She didn’t even care about the cold glass being pressed so harshly against her breasts anymore, it was actually a nice feeling instead of the rest of her body that was hot and sweaty.

Loki grinned ferally from behind her as he watched the army outside gather, more and more of the ugly beasts appeared to watch.

‘She’s mine!’ Loki barked loud enough for them to hear, as he removed his fingers from her and replaced them with his cock.

The Chitauri began to look uneasy, they realised Loki was serious and claiming her. They all reluctantly dispersed, at Loki’s manic laughing.

She started moaning louder and louder as Loki fucked her hard against the window, feeling his harsh leather and metal armour digging into her skin. He made her cum by playing with her clit again, feeling her cum on his cock was the end for him. He finally claimed her fully, spilling into her with a groan of his own.

She didn’t know what to think, or do. She had just been fucked by a God, on front of his evil army… and it seemed like he was intent on keeping her. Her body wasn’t complaining, it was cheering in absolute delight. Though her mind still wasn’t able to get fully on board. She knew how wrong this all was…

‘Good girl… I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you at my feet.’ Loki chuckled, his breath warm against her ear.

Her mind completely shut down as he pulled out of her and scooped her up into his arms as he wrapped his cape around her.

‘My good little pet.’ He whispered to her as made his way out of the tower with her, into a jet that was waiting at the helipad.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Surprise Visit Pt 2 (Thor X Son!Reader)

Characters: Thor Odinson X Son!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: None

Pt 1

Request: Hi, I'm just finish Poco's udon world, and right of the batch I thought what if Poco is Thor's son, Poco has some of his feature too and I remember your fic Surprise Visit. Can you please do a Part 2 of it?🥺 reader is like Thor but he quite shy and always bring with books that his mother read before bed they bonding by activities together Thor bring him to Asgard to meet his grandparents Loki read them books, tell them stories, show and teach them magic (Harry Potter) with Freyaa and all fluff❤

The first few days after finally meeting your dad had been awkward to say the least. You were spending almost every waking moment either with him, or your uncle. You had expected that Loki would be a lot more awkward with you- or straight up wouldn’t like you from the get go, but it ended up being kind of the opposite. Thor had been a bit too eager from the get go to play the fatherly role, and you found it unnerving, and when Thor realised that (with help from Clint and Steve pointing it out for him) he backed up and started to just try and get to know you, your interests, your dislikes, and take things a little slower. Loki, on the other hand, was nowhere near as pushy, gave you space, and didn’t force conversation on to you. Eventually though, you ended up finding something to bond with Loki over; Books. 

You had been interested in the books he read, even if you couldn’t read the language, and worked up the courage to ask him about it, and after an explanation, he asked what kind of books you liked, and it was a start of an actual long and meaningful conversation. Loki took that, and hinted that Thor should look into those books. The next day, Thor showed up to your room with a pile of books in his arms and a grin on his face. 

Things since then had got a lot better between you and your dad. Instead of forcing it, or acting the part for the sake of it, Thor had naturally fallen into the father role that made it a comfortable change for you. Thor had little interest in books, but you had the ritual with him now of him buying a book for you, you read it, and after every chapter, you give him a rundown of what happened in detail, and you’d discuss it. You’d opened up a bit with him over the weeks, about what your life was like growing up with mum, holidays, key memories for you, and the rituals you two had- including reading books before bed together, which was where your love for books came from. Thor soon got you some of the books you mentioned, so you could do it with him. You got into a nice rhythm of living with and being around your dad and uncle, to the point where you were expecting it when an advancement was suggested. 

“How do you feel about going to Asgard with Loki and I, tomorrow?” Thor asked, as you were tidying up after another late night discussion about a book you had been reading- this one actually a recommendation from your Uncle Loki. You stopped what you were doing, and looked over at Thor, who waited patiently. 

“Uh… sure. Okay.” You agreed hesitantly, and immediately his face lit up. You had long guessed this conversation would happen, so you had time to prepare for it, though you knew that was actually impossible. What could prepare you for going to the land of gods- where you know you didn’t belong, even if Thor was your father? “Do… Do they know about me?” You asked cautiously. 

“Of course!” He immediately answered. “As soon as I returned to Agard after we met, I told mother and father about you, and my friends! I wanted to tell the entire kingdom, but mother- your grandmother, insisted we wait till you met them all first before telling the rest of Asgard. Freya, your grandmother, is the most eager to meet you.” He gushed to you. You’d heard a lot about your grandparents through both Thor and Loki. Admittedly, Thor was the only one who talked about Odin, and while Loki didn’t talk much about them, when he did, it was always about Freya, about how she was also a bit of a bookworm, and how she taught him magic.

You got up early the next morning, mostly due to struggling to sleep from the anticipation, and you didn’t have to wait for either your dad or uncle to be ready either, though you couldn’t tell if it was due to excitement or nerves, or maybe they were both feeling those things- your dad the excitement, and Loki the nerves. It didn’t help that your dad was a raving optimist, and your uncle was a pessimist, so you couldn’t tell who was feeling the right way, so you just adopted a bit of each of their emotions. Cautiously excited.

You honestly wasn’t sure what to expect when you actually got there, or even the process of getting there in the first place, but as soon as you left the Bifrost, you were in awe. Sure, they had told you all about Asguard- the rainbow path that led to it, the great kingdom, the beauty of it all, but none of that was in comparison to what you were actually seeing. You remained in stunned silence the entire walk up the bridge, actually entering into Asguard, past the several hundred people who came to welcome them back and ask about you, up until your father actually called for you, after seeing you distracted by something else further away. You turned, seeing several people stood with your father and uncle, looking at you smiling. “Y/N, these are my friends, Fandrall, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif.” Your father introduced you.

“So this is the little prince?” Sif questioned with a smile. 

“Little? Thor, you said he was a boy! Give it a few years and he’ll be ready to be king!” Volstagg laughed, though the mention of such a role made you look at Loki quickly, and then your dad. 

“He is a boy! The very idea of being king is still a long way away- you make it sound like he’ll outlive me.” Thor defended. 

“Speaking of Kings.” Loki spoke up, placing  hand on Thor’s shoulder. 

“Right! Haven’t had the chance to introduce him to the rest of his family. We’ll pick this up later, promise.” Thor told them motioning you over, and guiding you deeper into the kingdom, down several expansive corridors, before you turned a corner, and spotted a group of women talking in the hallway ahead, and your father and uncle stopped. “Loki, stay here with Y/N.” Thor requested, before going towards the group, and you looked up at Loki confused, who patted you on the shoulder. You watched as your father approached the group, made some small talk, before all the women except one left down another hallway, and Thor stepped to the side, motioning the woman towards you and Loki, and you realised who she must be. Freya. Your grandmother. 

As soon as she saw you properly, she smiled warmly, hands clasped and pressed against her chest with excitement, and any fear you had- fear of not being liked, or not meeting their standards, of being a disappointment, being looked down on for being half human- it all faded. You could feel the love and acceptance radiating off the woman as she reached out her hands, and took your own. “Y/N, words cannot describe the absolute joy I feel to finally be in your presence finally after all of Thor’s descriptions.” Freya told you, gently squeezing your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile too. 

“I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you too from dad and uncle Loki.” You told her, and her smile grew, before she pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you. 

“Thor- Loki, go tell your father that you’re here with Y/N- I’ll give Y/N a tour of the palace- we’ll be in the library when you’re done. We have a lot to talk about.” Freya decided, already walking away with you, and you didn’t fight it, leaving with her. 

Thor and Loki did as ordered, finding their father, letting them know they’d also brought you, and after a bit of back and forth questioning where exactly you were, and Loki explaining their mother had already stolen you away herself, and Odin simply sighed, and got up to follow his sons to head to the Library. 

By the time they met back up with you and Freya, you and her were already getting along like a house on fire- she’d asked about your mother, her health, your childhood, her own expieriences that related when raising Thor and Loki, and when she heard about your little tradition with Thor with books, she picked out a book for you to take home to read, and to keep. You felt comfortable enough with her to ask about Loki and Odin’s relationship, the comment Thor’s friends made about being King one day and how you weren’t big on the idea, and also how according to how your dad and Loki talked about Odin, you were much more worried about meeting him than her. Freya had answers your questions, reassured you of your worries, and promised Odin would be on his best behaviour, and she helped your first meeting with Odin a lot from the get go. 

As soon as Freya saw her husband, she stood first, smiling. “Odin, thank you for joining us. I was just about to ask Y/N if they’d like a private family dinner. What do you think?” Freya asked him, wrapping an arm around you again, and you smiled nervously at your grandfather, who was a lot more intimidating than you had anticipated. Odin didn’t talk at first, stepping a little closer, and you panicked internally, not knowing what to do, if you were supposed to do something- but Freya had kept her arm around you, gently rubbing your arm in reassurance. 

“That can certainly be arranged. It’ll let us get to know our grandson. Thor, will you come with me to make the arrangements?” He asked, of his oldest, who nodded. “See you at dinner, Y/N.” He told you, before making his leave, Thor smiling at you, before following after him. 

“In the meantime.” Freya spoke up once the two were quite a distance away. “Y/N, want to learn some magic?” She asked. 

“Mother, I don’t know about that…” Loki fussed. 

“Just beginning spells, nothing serious… we’ll save that for later. Maybe you could mentor Y/N as well when back on Midgard.” She suggested, and you realised that maybe, just maybe… Loki got some of his mischief from his mother. 

“Am I able to do magic? Since I’m half human?” You questioned. 

“I believe so, it’s worth a try. You coming Loki?” Freya questioned her son, who simply sighed, and followed after, deciding to be apart of his mother’s antics, knowing that Thor might lose his mind when he finds out about this. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my Gif

TAGS: @insanityismysanity12345 @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[chocolatechipkiki]

Say My Name

Loki x Fem!Reader

W/C: 3,113

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 (𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲), 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐕 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, "𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐦��𝐠𝐢𝐜" (𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨, 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧𝙨…

Soapy water splashes across your hands as you swirl the blue sponge around the dirty plate. Your hips sway to the beat of the song playing in your headphones, and you sing along to the lyrics quietly as you continue washing the last of the dishes. Surprisingly enough, chore time is one of your favorite parts of the day, because you get to dance around and sing and get into such a groove that you forget that you're even doing chores. 

Once you place the last dish into the dishwasher, you start it up and bring the damp sponge around your countertops, scraping away any remaining crumbs from making your dinner earlier. You continue jamming out to your music as you grab the broom and pretend to use it as a microphone, swinging your head from side to side and acting as if you're performing in front of an audience.

You giggle to yourself as you sweep your kitchen, finally finishing the last of your cleaning routine. Your heart beats a little faster as you realize what that means - bedtime! Your favorite part of your day.

Your friends would poke fun at how much you enjoyed going to bed. They would tease the idea of why you enjoyed it so much with big imaginations, which would always succeed in bringing a blush to your cheeks. They may have been joking but they were always spot on as to why you wanted to go to bed.

It meant personal time. You time. 

You first noticed how much you needed release at the end of your days when you were still younger and curious. Then, you were still ashamed of yourself for wanting it, but now you embraced it. Your fantasies ranged from lighthearted, vanilla reveries with random people you found attractive throughout your day to sultry, erotic daydreams with people you shouldn't think of like that. 

But recently you had come across an idea from a book you were reading in your free time. It spoke of rituals performed by ancient civilizations to enhance sex. Your interest piqued and you had taken to the internet to learn more. Much to your surprise, the world had a lot to offer you in the knowledge of sex magic - and you had become particularly fond of one god in particular to pray to during your little sessions. 

The first time you whispered his name while your hands roamed your body, you hadn't felt much different. Nothing seemed to change, and your release was more or less the same. The second time revealed the same outcome. So had the third.

But it was the fourth time, when your hands trailed down to your core slowly, leaving goosebumps in their wake, that you had whispered his name and felt a rush of excitement flow through you that you'd never felt before. It was like your senses had been dialed past sensitive, and every single thing you felt became more noticeable - the bedsheets beneath you, the cool air surrounding you, the change in your breath as your fingers finally grazed your folds. You had also sworn you felt something brush your ear that night while you moaned his name out to your ceiling, but you didn't know if it was just your heightened senses making your hair more noticeable or if something - or someone - was there. But when you had opened your eyes to investigate, your room was exactly how it was when you had started - empty.

Now, you try to calm your excitement as you wander to your bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth so you can go straight to sleep once you finish. You close your bedroom door behind you afterwards, and begin to strip your clothes, barely able to conceal your excitement anymore. You light one of your candlesticks and then use it to light the others around your room. Then you slide onto your bed and focus your breathing down to a slow, rhythmic pace. 

You imagine the god you were praying to for the past few nights in your head. His tall, chiseled body towering over you. His strong hands caressing your soft skin. His blue eyes staring down into yours with lustful mischief. Once you have a strong vision, you begin your prayer.

"Loki..." you whisper, sliding your hands up your thighs slowly, imagining them being his own. "Please, bless me with your presence tonight..." Your hands reach your stomach, twisting and continuing up to your breasts, flicking your nipples with slight urgency as your excitement builds. "I beg you, Loki, make me feel... amazing..." 

For a moment, nothing happens, and you wonder if maybe your last night was nothing more than a fluke. You could have just been on the right day of your cycle, or eaten something in particular that heightened your arousal. 

Disheartened, you huff. Surely you could still find release without the same feelings as the night before? It wouldn't exactly be hard, you've been doing this for years. You decide to revel in the fantasy of Loki being here anyways, and after a few moments, your fingers are swirling perfect circles around your clit with urgency. You know how to get yourself there - you learned very quickly what did and didn't feel great. You say his name, calling out to your ceiling in the dim lighting. But for some reason, you can't. Quite. Get. There.

After your third time of getting oh so close but losing the building feeling quickly, something like a desperate whine leaves your lips. 

"Oh, it burns you, does it not?" a deep voice asks from your bedside. Your hands flinch up from your needy core and your eyes shoot open, landing on a tall, shadowed man standing beside your bed with a smirk upon his lips.

You should be screaming. Slipping out of your bed and making a run for your phone that you stupidly left in the bathroom in your eagerness. Asking him who he was. How he got in your apartment. Anything. But for some reason, you feel absolutely frozen, staring up into blue eyes that seem almost... familiar.

"L-Loki?" you whisper, and the shadow lets out a low chuckle. 

"So she speaks," he says. He stalks around your bed now with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes roaming your still-naked body out and on display in the candlelight. You self consciously press your thighs together, which brings another chuckle from Loki, now on the opposite side of your bed. "Nervous, are we?" he asks, reaching out and brushing a strand of your hair from your face. You flinch at the contact - not because of fear, but because it almost felt like lightning shot through your skin where he touched you. 

"W-Wha-" you begin, wanting to ask what he could possibly be doing in your room, of all places. You hadn't even known he was real, let alone that he could hear prayers. But he cuts you off by pressing his finger to your lips and shushing you gently.

"Oh, starlight, you've got so many questions running through that pretty little head of yours," he says. "Need not worry yourself with those now. We both know it doesn't matter."

Your brows furrow together at his comment, causing him to straighten his back, retreating from you and narrowing his eyes. "Oh, so you choose to feign innocence in the wake of my presence?" he asks. Your unwavering expression of confusion makes him smirk again. He walks away from your bed and to one of your bookshelves. He pulls out a particularly pretty-covered one, tracing the title slowly with his long index finger. "You've been wanting me to show up, darling. That's why you pray to me, each night when you plunge your fingers into that tight little cunt of yours." He places the book back into its place and turns back to face you. "You can claim innocence, you're nothing but a filthy little whore, aren't you?" 

Heat rises to your cheeks suddenly as you struggle to process his words. The past few nights that you had been praying to Loki, lust-filled voice calling up to your ceiling and hands pleasuring where you wanted it most, he had been listening, watching even. He knew you were praying to him. He responded to you last night, when everything felt different. That was him. He made you sensitive to every little thing going on. He had brushed your ear, probably doing exactly what he had just done now - tucking a strand of your hair away from your face.

Your eyes finally refocus on his blue ones, trying to find the words to defend yourself. But before you can manage even a single syllable, he disappears and reappears on top of your body, forcing his leg between your thighs and pinning each of your wrists beside your head. "You're clearly inexperienced in the art of sex magic. So I'll let you in on a little rule that you broke, sweetling."

His breath is hot against your skin as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "You're not supposed to come until the deity you're praying to allows you to do so. And how many times have you come undone at the thought of me, hm?" A shiver runs right down your spine and decides to settle in your stomach as your heart thrums rapidly in your chest. How many times had it been? Easily a couple dozen, and mostly from just the prior night, as your heightened senses had made it easier to go for another round nearly immediately after a climax. Loki snickers in your ear, almost as if he heard your thoughts.

"Oh, how most certainly unfortunate this will be for you, my sweet," he says, leaning back up to look into your eyes with lust. "I guess you'll have to make it up to me." 

Without giving you a moment to process your thoughts about the matter, Loki presses his lips to yours, kissing you with an urgency you didn't know a god could possess. He forces his tongue inside your mouth and explores with curiosity, pressing his body to yours. 

You're completely pinned to the bed underneath him, unable to move. His leg presses into your cunt, causing friction on your swollen nub. You find your eyes fluttering shut and your mouth kissing him back, and before you know it, a deep moan rumbles in your chest. How long has it been since a kiss felt this good to you? How long has it been since you have messed around with someone else? Even with the heightened senses of last night clear in your memory, it still hadn't felt this good. You could come alone from the friction and the heat of this kiss if it wasn't for the fact that he pulls away to look into your eyes once more.

A shy whine sounds from your throat, and Loki's kiss-swollen lips quirk up into the same smirk as before. "I was right, you are a little slut for me," he says, sitting up and pulling his dark green tunic up and over his head. Your eyes wander over his bare upper half with lustful eyes. You spent the past week imagining this body, but none of your wildest fantasies even compare to the masterpiece before you now. You reach out and trace a finger down his torso, much to his surprise. His head falls back as a groan rumbles in his chest. You continue to trail your finger down, down, until you reach the waistband of his pants, and he quickly snatches your wrist up in his hand. "Patience, sweet thing," he growls, pushing you back to the bed and crawling backwards on the bed until his head is level with your thighs.

You watch on with eagerness, forgetting completely about his words from before. His blue eyes look almost predatory as he stares at your body, leaning down and nipping at your thigh. You suck in a breath through your teeth, and your hips buck forward slightly. He places a hand firmly on your abdomen, warning you with his eyes to keep still. You try to (you really do), but every time his teeth catch the skin of your thighs, you jolt. You're sensitivity is going to get you in trouble.

But right when you think you can't take it anymore, he slides his index finger gently up your folds, making you shiver and squeak in delight. "You're already so wet, and I've barely done a thing," he says, bringing the finger to his mouth and licking your slick from it. The lasciviousness of the sight makes you throw your head back onto the pillow. He just looks so... divine. The picture of sexual nature. The perfect being of desire alone. He makes a sound very similar to when someone takes the first sip of hot chocolate on a cold day. It makes your cheeks heat up.

"Staring is rude," Loki says, smirking at you and now undoing his pants. He shifts on the bed again and your heart drums excitedly in your chest despite his comment. You're overcome with the desire to have him fill you completely, and as if sensing your sudden eagerness for him, he slows his movements to a teasing pace. His eyes stare at your body hungrily as he waves his hand. You watch in awe as a shimmer of green flows from his fingertips.

But when you go to shift and get a better look, you realize that you can't move. Your arms are restrained by some invisible force above your head. Loki snickers as he watches the confusion on your face. "Oh dearest pet, your innocence in the matter of magic is quite entertaining," he says. In one quick movement, he spreads your legs and aligns his cock with your dripping core. "But if you don't mind, I would much rather be making you scream my name." And with that, he shoves his entire length into you, making you throw your head back and let out a slightly pained sound. But the jolt of pain is quickly replaced by the feeling of pleasure, and your breath heaves in time with his. Your walls stretch to accommodate his rather sizeable member, and he seems to be relishing in the feeling of simply being inside you.

You desire to touch him - to run your fingers through his dark strands and dig your nails into his back. But with the restraints holding your arms up above you, all you can do is stare and admire the feeling of him. He feels your eyes on him and looks up finally to meet them. Something absolutely primal fills his expanded pupils, and your body seems to react by mirroring it.

Every little twitch of his still cock inside your walls sends a flurry of butterfly-like pleasure through your body. You can smell your arousal, his thin layer of sweat, the candles you lit. Every single thread of the silk bedsheets beneath your skin is giving you goosebumps, and you can hear Loki's shuddery breath perfectly. 

He did it again. He heightened your senses.

"Listen, pet," Loki starts, and his voice sends another shiver down your spine. "Do not come until I tell you to, or I promise, you won't like the consequences that follow." 

He pulls away from you just enough that the red tip of his cock rests just inside you, and then without warning, he begins a dreadfully leisurely pace of fucking you. You moan out despite the slow thrusts, but feel panic in your chest as you realize that you're already so close. "L-Loki-" you whine, not really knowing what else to do.

"Ah, ah, my sweet. I told you that you would be making it up to me. But maybe if you're a good little fucktoy for me, I'll let you come eventually," he says, picking up his pace. You bite the inside of your cheek and pull against the restraints desperately. You don't know how you'll be able to keep yourself from climaxing when this just feels so good.

Loki lifts one of your legs up and onto his shoulder, positioning himself to hit your g-spot, and you swear you're seeing stars at the intensity of the feeling. He moans out now with you, planting feverish kisses to your thigh as he continues to quicken his pace.

"That's it, slut. Take my cock. Revel in the feeling of nothing else but me. Fill your senses with me. Say my name," Loki says between shuddery breaths. You barely hear him over the sounds of your moans and the provocative slaps of skin on skin.

"Lokiii," you moan, and he seems dissatisfied.

"I said, say my name," he repeats.

"L-Loki!" you say louder. He groans and throws his head back.

"Say my name!" he growls as he chases his climax.

"LOKI!" you practically scream as he pounds into you. You feel your vision going blurry with the effort you're putting in to not come undone. Loki's raven hair is falling from it's neat slick backed place and his thrusts get sloppy.

"Go ahead, precious. Come for me," he says. He barely finishes the words before you scream out, your eyes seemingly blacking out as your climax crashes over you with such ferocity that you can barely breathe. His own quickly follows, pounding into you relentlessly and whispering praises the entire time as he fills you with his hot seed.

You don't regain your sight until he pulls his softening cock from you, chest still heaving from the intensity of his undoing. He brings the back of his hand to his face, wiping the sweat from his forehead and flashing you a cocky grin. He climbs back over you, his eyes still filled with desire. Genuine fear makes your blood run cold. 

How could he possibly still be aroused after that?

"You did so well for me," he says, placing a finger beneath your chin. He caresses your cheek with his thumb, studying your exhausted face with curiosity. Suddenly, he grabs your chin assertively. "You're mine now, pet. Do you understand?" You nod to the best of your ability. "Words, darling."

"I-I understand," you stutter out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name minutes before.

"Good. Now flip over and put your pretty little ass in the air for me. I'm not done with you yet."

[honeyhhearted]

Sweet Dreams

Read on AO3

Warnings: Health Anxiety, Depression, Mentions of Illness (No one is sick, reader just suffers from severe anxiety)

Relationship: Loki/Reader

Summary:

You can't sleep (again). 

You're afraid of burdening Loki, so you try to face it alone, when he catches you on one of your sleepless nights.

A/N:

Another fluff short for you <3

I personally really struggle with health anxiety/mild hypochondria, so this one is partially for me too.

You couldn’t sleep again.

When you got out of bed, eyes stinging, neck aching, you sighed to yourself. You hadn’t been able to get any sleep for the last few weeks. Nights spent staring into your phone until 3AM, watching the sun rise and dragging yourself out of bed every day were starting to wear you down. You were sluggish, shoulders drooping, dark circles beneath your eyes.

The sounds of the night kept you company. 

You padded quietly down the hallway, doing your best not to wake Loki. You didn’t want to worry him. Part of you knew that you should tell him. He could probably help you, you thought. But something in you tightened at the thought of inconveniencing him. He had a difficult enough time sleeping as it is, without you waking him in the dead of night. You didn’t want to become a burden more than you already were.

Night time was when anxiety plagued you the worst. Its spindly tendrils wrapped themselves around your chest, squeezing every time you dared to close your eyes. What if someone broke in, and you couldn’t stop them? What if they hurt you? What if they hurt him?

Every ache and pain in your body scared you. Sometimes it felt like you were afraid of yourself. You couldn’t let yourself sleep out of fear that you just…wouldn’t wake up. You couldn’t sleep beside Loki without worrying that the usually comforting sound of his even breaths would stop in the middle of the night.

During the day, he would catch you staring too long at a bruise, a scratch. Logically you knew where it would come from. You were incredibly clumsy, prone to bumping into things constantly. But when you could see it, when you stared at the lumps and bumps on your body long enough, you could convince yourself otherwise. Those were the moments he would comfort you, waving a hand over you before telling you, for the eighth time that day, that you were fine. 

“Sweetling,” He would say, gently every time, “I promise that you are in good health. What is worrying you so much?”

You always felt a rush of shame. He was so patient, so kind to you, even on the days where he’d have to tell you ten, twelve, times, and his brow would furrow and lips would purse at your fear.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

So, you stayed awake. Tossing and turning in bed until he drifted off to sleep beside you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling until your eyes burned and your battery drained. Then you’d get up at 3AM, like clockwork. You’d walk through your home, listening to the soft sounds of crickets outside. You’d sit in the kitchen, coffee prepared in the fridge in advance so the sounds of you rustling around wouldn’t wake Loki. 

You sighed. Your head throbbed constantly from exhaustion, and your hands shook. As you sat, sipping your coffee, you felt your eyes begin to water. You were so tired. 

It was beginning to take a mental toll on you, the lack of sleep. You were more irritable, snapping at Loki over what you used to laugh about. You knew he deserved better, and you hated yourself when you saw the confusion in his eyes at your poor moods. You just felt so terrible, all the time, and you didn’t know what to do anymore. 

Some days, you considered just leaving. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, and you didn’t want to keep dragging him down with you. But the thought of doing so made your stomach clench. So, selfishly, you stayed. 

Thor had recommended you see someone. You knew you should. But you just…couldn’t. He approached you hesitantly, some weeks ago, the way someone would a feral animal. He looked so uncomfortable it almost made you laugh to think about, as it was such an out of place look on him.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said, awkwardly, “But, sister, are you well? You have been looking…I apologize for my bluntness, overtired. You do not seem physically ill. Has something happened?”

You smiled at him, heart warming at his care for you. The two of you had always been close, but had grown even closer when you started dating his brother. He treated you like a sister, protective and sweet. Your smile faded quickly, though, at his question. You didn’t want to get into it, not when you knew he’d likely tell Loki. You didn’t want to make either of them worry about you - at least not more than they clearly already were.

“I’m okay, Thor, it’s just…I’m just in my own head, I think. That’s all.” Was what you came up with.

He didn’t seem to believe you, but didn’t push it. You were thankful for that. “If you say so. Might I recommend those Midgardian mind healers? Jane regularly attends one.” He looked sheepish. “Don’t tell her I told you. But, I believe it is for moments when you are ‘in your own head’, as you put it.”

You sighed. “I know. I’ll think about it.”

That was weeks ago. You had a tab open to Google, the search “therapists near me” opened on it. It taunted you, most nights. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Darling?” A raspy, sleep-filled voice came from behind you. You whipped around, trying to blink away your tears. Loki stood in the entryway to the kitchen, eyes bleary as he looked at you. He was paler than normal, a frown firmly pasted on his face. Your heart thumped. Even half awake, you still found him so beautiful.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked, making your way over to him.

He wrapped his arms around you, breathing you in. You felt your shoulders relax. He always made you feel better, the familiar scent of spice and pine surrounding you as you listened to the strong sound of his heart.

“I woke, and you were not there.” He said. “I dreamt you were gone, and when I woke, you were.”

Guilt squeezed your stomach. Loki’s nightmares were not frequent, but when he had them they would typically revolve around you. You hurt, missing, dead…those nights were the ones he woke, a horrified noise ripping its way out of his throat, his hands shaking, skin pale. He always reached for you, hugging you to him like a lifeline. You felt terrible that you were not there for him.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” You said, your voice muffled into his chest.

“Why are you out here? It is late.” He pressed a kiss to your head before leaning back to look at you.

You hesitated. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I…didn’t want to bother you.” You bit your lip, looking down.

“My love.” His voice was stern, yet gentle. “You are never bothering me. Do you hear me? If you need me, I am here. Always.” He paused, taking in your haggard appearance. “How long has this been happening?”

Tears welled in your eyes. Guilt and shame stabbed through your throat as a sob burst out of you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You sobbed, fisting his shirt in your hands. “I didn’t want to worry you, or burden you, or make you take care of me-” You inhaled sharply, the pain in your head worsening as you cried. “I just don’t feel good and I’m scared, please don’t be mad at me I’m sorry I didn’t mean to lie to you -” Loki shushed you, cradling your head to his chest as your whole body quivered. 

“My love, my love,” He said to you, rocking slightly. “I am so sorry you have dealt with this alone. I am sorry I did not notice sooner. I am not mad, I could never be mad at you for doing what you thought was a good thing. You are not a burden, darling, you never have been a burden. It is an honor and a privilege to take care of you every day. Every day I spend making you happy is the greatest thing I can do.”

You sobbed harder, squeezing him. “I just - I didn’t want to become a chore, I didn’t want you to resent me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just so tired.”

He shushed you again, softly, before lifting you in his arms. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked you both back to your bedroom.

He laid you in bed gently before summoning a glass of water for you, placing it on your bedside table, and crawling under the covers. He held you as you calmed yourself, pressing kisses all over your face and whispering gentle affirmations to you. He wiped your tears with a sweet softness, massaged your scalp in a way you’d always found comforting, kissed your fingertips. When you caught your breath, you looked up at him through wet eyelashes.

“I think I need to talk to someone.” You said.

He smiled sadly at you. “Thor told me that he recommended a mind healer for you. They are called therapists on Midgard, yes?”

You nodded. “I was too scared to go.”

He kissed the tip of your nose. “I will be with you every step of the way, my sweet love. There is nothing to be afraid of, and if there is, I will be with you.”

You pressed yourself close to him, burying your head into his cool neck as his arms circled you.

“I love you, Loki,” you said quietly.

“And I love you, so much,” He replied.

He began to sing to you, an Asgardian lullaby you had heard many times, but never deciphered. The rhythmic motion of his hands running up and down your back soothed you, as your eyes drooped and you finally drifted off to sleep.

It was the sweetest sleep you’d had in weeks.