#loki x You

[hawthorne-bias]

fall into his orbit

Married to Loki, the god of mischief, Y/N is still in awe of her new life—as an Asgardian princess, a title she never dreamed would be hers. Her world, once confined and unremarkable, now sprawls out before her like an epic tale too vast for her to fully grasp. The splendour of it is intoxicating, each new discovery both a marvel and a mystery, and with every passing moment, she grows more eager to uncover the layers of a life she never imagined. But what of Loki? A riddle wrapped in shadows, whose every smile holds both a question and a command, whose every word is a carefully concealed truth. Y/N is left to navigate the labyrinth of him, drawn in yet uncertain, as though the man she married is a world unto himself—one she is not yet allowed to enter fully. With her quick wit and stubborn heart, however, she is ready for whatever challenges lie ahead—and maybe, just maybe, she will uncover the man behind the enigma… but only if he allows it, of course.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader Tags: Takes place before the movie 'Thor (2011)'; Arranged Marriage; Fluff; Some Humor; Slow Burn Romance; Developing Characters and Relationship; Awkward Tension; TW—sarcastic comment on death, hints of jealousy or insecurity, subtle power dynamics. Oneshot belonging to the series 'you were never a saint, and I’ve loved you all the same' // Read on AO3 // wc: 1674 A/N: I don't own MCU or its characters! The header is from Pinterest whilst the dividers are from @/adornedwithlight. :) Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

The soft light of dawn spills across the golden spires and shimmering towers of Asgard, bathing the majestic city in warm, golden hues. Y/N stands at the balcony of the royal palace, leaning slightly over the edge, her eyes wandering over the sprawling vista below. The kingdom of Asgard stretches out before her, its shining white stone walls and towering structures bathed in early morning light. From here, she can see the vast expanse of the Bifrost Bridge, stretching far into the distance, the rainbow bridge gleaming like a thread of colour woven into the sky. The glittering rivers and pristine gardens of Asgard, flanked by golden statues, catch the light and shimmer like jewels scattered across the landscape.   

She has known this land all her life—walked its streets, trained in its courts, and now, here she is, in the heart of the royal palace, gazing down at it from a vantage she has never before had. 

She never thought she would see Asgard like this. From the high balcony of the palace, everything looks more magnificent than ever. The city, spread out beneath her, seems almost unreal—like a creation from the hands of gods themselves. I could stay here forever, she thinks, a fleeting thought that fills her with a quiet warmth.   

Asgard beneath her, still bathed in the soft, peaceful embrace of morning, seems almost otherworldly. The grand towers of the palace, the golden gleam of the Bifrost, and the distant mountain peaks all merge into one perfect scene. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this view, she muses, a warmth blooming in her chest as she takes in the beauty.   

Her thoughts are so consumed by the scene that she doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching her from behind until a sharp voice splits the stillness.   

“ How wonderful it must be, ” the voice drawls, laced with sarcasm, “ to find one’s wife plummeting to her death first thing in the morning, hm? ”   

Y/N’s foot catches on the edge of the balcony as she spins around, startled by the sudden intrusion. Her balance falters, and before she can catch herself, her body tips backward. A startled yelp escapes her lips as her arms flail, desperately trying to find some purchase.   

She falls heavily to the marble floor, landing with a soft thud , her legs awkwardly entangled beneath her. Staring up at the sky in stunned silence, she can hardly believe the absurdity of the situation. Well, that was unexpected, she thinks, half-amused despite herself.   

For a moment, she remains there, dazed, simply gazing up at the pale sky as she tries to collect herself. It’s not so bad, she reassures herself. Nothing broken—only my pride. But then, as the seconds stretch on, the reality of what has just happened begins to settle in, and she realizes—   

Loki is already fully dressed in his royal finery, looking every bit the part of a prince, while she—still in her nightgown—lies sprawled awkwardly on the floor.  

He stands above her, his eyes flickering between glaring at her and looking away as if some deep discomfort has overtaken him.  

It is far too early for court matters to be stirring, yet here he is, impeccably groomed, which only adds to the strange urgency of the situation.

Y/N blinks, her mouth dry from the shock of the fall, but she quickly regains her composure, forcing a soft, sheepish smile. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she says, her voice breathless but light. Though I cannot imagine how this is a ‘good’ morning for either of us...    

Loki is silent for a moment, his eyes sweeping over her with that sharp, calculating gaze of his. He seems caught between irritation and some form of awkwardness. The corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly before he speaks, his tone curt. “Need assistance?”   

Y/N blinks in surprise. Is he offering to help? Or is this merely another sarcastic remark? She quickly scrambles to sit up, the fabric of her nightgown shifting around her, and with a nervous laugh, she brushes herself off. “No, no, Your Highness. I’m quite fine, thank you,” she says hastily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.   

She rises quickly to her feet, smoothing her nightgown as best as she can, and makes her way inside to grab her cloak. She can’t stand there before him, looking like a complete fool. I must have looked utterly ridiculous, she thinks with a quiet groan.   

Once she has draped the cloak around her shoulders and regained her posture, she turns back toward him. “But, if I may ask,” she says, trying to sound as composed as possible despite the lingering embarrassment, “why are you here so early?” It certainly isn’t the usual time for any formal court duties, and her curiosity gets the better of her.   

Loki’s gaze softens ever so briefly, though the change is fleeting. “Can’t a man visit his wife?” His voice is laced with an undercurrent of something Y/N cannot quite place—a tightness perhaps, one that seems almost out of character.   

Y/N’s thoughts flicker back to their wedding night, remembering how clearly Loki had made it known that their marriage was a mere formality, nothing more. The sharpness of his words had lingered in the air, and she has long since come to terms with that. Still, a small part of her wonders, Could it ever be different? But she quickly shakes that thought away, dismissing it as foolishness.   

A small smile plays at the edges of her lips. “Of course, Your Highness. It’s simply... unexpected. I wasn’t anticipating a visit so early, that’s all.”   

Loki lets out a dry, almost humourless laugh, his eyes briefly flashing with something unreadable. “I must be troubling you,” he mutters, his gaze drifting away, as though lost in his own thoughts. It is unclear whether his words are directed at her or himself.   

Y/N quickly shakes her head, her voice gentle. “Not at all, Your Highness. Please, do not worry.” She pauses, then adds, with a slight change in tone, “Have you had breakfast yet?”   

Loki raises an eyebrow at the question, clearly taken aback. “Isn’t it too early for breakfast?” His tone is incredulous, yet there is something else—an exhaustion she had not noticed before.   

Y/N offers a soft grin, her tone light. “Isn’t it also too early for court affairs?” she teases, unable to resist.   

Loki’s eyes narrow slightly, though his lips quirk upward for just a moment, a hint of amusement breaking through his usual reserve. “I’m not attending court,” he replies with a touch less sharpness. “I’m heading to my office. Thor’s coronation is only a year away, and there’s an endless list of things to do—guest lists, invitations, processions, security... I can hardly keep up with it all.”   

Y/N falls silent, observing him. There is something in his voice, a strain she hadn’t expected. It isn’t just the work; there is an undercurrent of something deeper. Perhaps frustration? Or even jealousy? She has heard the whispers around the palace regarding the upcoming coronation of Loki’s older brother, and it seems that burden is now weighing on him. Poor thing, she thinks. He may never be the one in the spotlight.    

After a moment, she speaks softly, trying to ease the tension that hangs in the air. “But a year is still quite some time. Surely there’s no need to rush.”   

Loki’s lips press into a thin line as he stares out over the horizon, his posture stiffening. “A year may seem like a long time,” he says, though the words sound almost forced, as if he is trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “But it’s not. There’s always more to be done. And then, of course, there’s Thor.”   

Y/N’s heart softens as she notices the faint bitterness in his voice. So, it is jealousy, she realizes. He feels overshadowed. She doesn’t say anything about it, though. He isn’t looking for sympathy—she can see that much.   

Instead, she smiles kindly. “I’m sure you will manage, Your Highness. You’re doing your best, and that is all anyone can ask.”   

For a brief moment, their eyes meet, and the usual hardness in his gaze softens just slightly. “Perhaps,” he mutters under his breath.   

Y/N seizes the moment to offer help. “Would you like me to assist with any of the preparations?” she asks, her eagerness slipping through her words. “I may not be able to do much, but if there’s anything I can—”   

Loki raises an eyebrow, scepticism written all over his face. “And how, precisely, do you propose to assist?”   

Y/N smiles gently, though her eyes sparkle with a playful glint. “Well, you won’t know unless you let me try,” she replies. “Give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I’ll be of use in whatever way I can.”   

He sighs, though his eyes soften ever so slightly. It is almost as if he is truly considering her offer. “I never agreed to this,” he mutters.   

“You did,” Y/N says teasingly, her eyes warm. “When you married me and promised to share all your joys and sorrows. The workload is a part of that, is it not?”   

Loki sighs again, but this time, there is the faintest crack in his usual composure. “Do as you please, Princess,” he says, his voice still curt but with less of the usual edge. “What’s the point of asking when you’ve already made up your mind?”   

Y/N grins, her heart lighter than it’s been all morning.   

“I’ll see you in ten minutes, then!” she says, the promise clear in her voice.   

With that, she hurries off, her footsteps echoing softly through the quiet palace halls. She can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, things might not be as distant between her and Loki as they once seemed. And with that thought, she smiles to herself, feeling a small sense of accomplishment that lingers longer than she expects. 

[late-to-the-party-81]

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Chapter 23 - The Old Gods and The New

A Firefight or A Viper's Nest | Loki x Reader

Loki misses us and more threats descend on Tønsberg.

Warnings: continued angst from Loki, threats to the village and references to battles and war.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

It took a long while for the shock of Jane’s revelation to set in, the small court just stared at her for a while, a strange breeze that came from nowhere seemed to drift through her hair so that it floated around her face in artistic waves. 

“Well.” Brunnhilde said, shocked, “that’s quite the party trick, Jane.” Her lip quirked up into a smile as she looked her friend up and down before turning to Thor. “And you were going to share this information, when? I assume you must know?” 

Thor opened and then closed his mouth, at a loss. 

“Thor, she has your hammer.” Korg looked more confused than anyone. “I thought that was your magical hammer?”

“It is,” Thor grunted, looking more than a little betrayed. I still have Stormbreaker though, I am still as mighty and powerful as ever, do not worry about me.” He attempted a casual laugh but it came out as a weak cough. 

“I’m sure that’ll come in very useful,” Brunnhilde didn’t move her gaze from Jane until she’d put the hammer down, the armour, hair and magical wind vanishing as quickly as it’d appeared. 

“All this to say, Estrid, I’d be happy to come with you to save Loki. He saved my life, once, I thought he’d sacrificed his own life for mine and Thor’s. I feel like I owe him, even if he is still alive.” 

You’d yet to hear this story, but you were even more determined to hear it with Loki present. There was still so much you didn’t know about each other, and the loss of him was still so keen, so painful. You needed him back, so you could discover everything there was to know and relish in everything you already knew him to be. 

“Thank you, Jane, you’re a good friend.” 

Jane reached out and squeezed your hand. “I suppose we have a rescue mission to plan then.” And you smiled for the first time since Loki had been taken because, for the first time, you thought there might actually be some hope of seeing him again. 

Brunnhilde called a recess on your, admittedly, very casual court and strode into her back office, slamming the door. You weren’t sure if it was Jane’s admission that she too held powers similar to Thors, or that Carol wouldn’t be joining Asgard any time soon, that had led to her unusually emotional outburst. You’d known Brunnhilde only a short time, but she was always collected, snarky almost, releasing her emotions carefully out of sight of her court and her people. 

You took a step, aiming to follow her. It must be very, very, lonely to have to keep a brave face all the time. Your own had been woefully unsuccessful, but you could at least offer her your support. 

Thor touched your shoulder, tightening his fingers and drawing you back with his gentle strength. 

“Leave her, Trouble, she just needs some time to - process.” He looked sad, tired, and for the first time you thought about what a toll this must be taking on everyone. 

Korg slid a pint sized mug towards you, liquid sloshing over the sides, “it helps.” He offered. 

You took the mug gratefully, lifting it to your lips and sipping expecting tea or coffee - spluttering you sat the mug down and looked at the smiling Kronan. 

“This is mead,” you coughed. 

“Yes, it helps.” And you allowed a rare smile to creep to sneak onto your face. 

Loki had been alone before. He had fallen through space, probably time as well if he really thought about it, he had been cast aside by his family, made poor choices and been equally as punished by his father as he had Thanos. He had been alone and rebuilt his life on Sakar. But he had never felt the crushing weight of this loneliness as he did now, staring at his own gaunt reflection in the reinforced glass of his prison. 

He had never before remembered your touch, his home had never had another dwelling in it that he felt such an affinity for and he hoped that you were still there, still safe. 

Loki’s thoughts drifted constantly, even when he was with strangers at least he could talk to them. He had created quite the social circle alongside Thanos and in Sakar, though he did rather regret aligning himself with both rulers. Here no one spoke to him, no one even looked at him. 

He remembered being alone on Asgard as a young boy, how thrilled he’d been when his mother had told him that her friend was bringing her own child. Someone of a similar age and disposition, who liked to read, who was learning magic, who enjoyed games. Loki had imagined someone like himself, a tall boy who he could hunt and fight with. He had been shocked when a girl had peaked around her mother’s skirts at him. 

“Estrid, you  very welcome here in Asgard. May I present my son, Loki. He has similar talents. Perhaps he could show you the palace.” 

He had peaked between his mother’s skirts to look at you, hidden inside your own mother’s cloak. Loki had bowed, just as he’d been taught and looked back at Frigga for confirmation that he’d done so correctly. In return you’d stepped forwards, holding your dress and curtseying. 

He had missed you dearly for many years and not even known that the ache in his chest was you. How had he let you out of his sight for even a moment. 

You, who had brought him everything he’d been looking for, a go-between to soften the often difficult relationship with his older brother, a playmate that was on his side and, eventually, someone who saw him as he truly was. Loki closed his eyes, unable to look at his own sullen face a moment longer, and reached out to you again. 

I miss you, my darling, and, though I would hate to ever be the cause of your distress, I hope that you miss me too. 

Watching the waves in the harbour you felt a surge of magic, as if it had wound about your heart and tugged you. Looking back at your door the lantern light that, since Loki had vanished, you couldn’t bare to turn off, flickered and danced. The artificial light stayed where it was, but something more flared and jumped, slithering towards you. The fiery snake moved swiftly and your own calf appeared from behind you defensively. But you knew it wouldn’t harm you. With a smile you waved the calf to the side and allowed the snake to coil around your ankle and slink its way up your leg. Reaching down it coiled into your cupped hands and you held it close, allowing its warmth to sink into your chest. 

“I miss you too, Loki.” You whispered to the waves, hoping they’d take your message back to him somehow. 

The council didn’t pick up again when you returned to the Long Hall the next day. A walk along the wharf had cleared your head and a glimpse of Loki, even just his sedir, had given you the courage you needed to keep going instead of just staying at home and crying as you wanted to. 

He was right, you were a Goddess, a Princess and you would act like one. Wiping a few tears from your cheeks you stepped back into the hall to be met with a familiar face. 

The man was sat with Brunnhilde, the King in her throne, a worried look on her face. The older women were cooing and fussing, filling a trestle table with tea, mead, beer, biscuits, half a fruit cake, anything they could get their hands on. His blonde curls formed a halo around him, even in the harsh fluorescent light. His spear was propped against the table casually and, hanging up your own coat, you noticed his green cape on a hook. 

Lugh. 

He had found you then and, after all you’d heard about his friendship with your mother, you were unsure how to proceed. Embarrassed that you had argued with him so fiercely when he had cared so deeply for your family. 

“Estrid.” Brunnhilde looked up, beckoning you closer, “I think it’s time we all talked.” 

Lugh stood, offering you his chair, which you cautiously accepted. 

“Thank you for not running, Princess, I believe you listened to the prophecy?” 

Lugh took a chair opposite you, folding one leg neatly over the other and lacing his fingers together. 

“Yes,” you said, warily. This was the first time you’d met without the panicking variables of your previous encounters. There were no Avengers or Gods to distract you. This was the Long Hall, Brunnhilde had been talking to him just moments before, and yet you couldn’t let yourself settle. 

“So you see how this simple prophecy, possibly even just a dream, has caused so much…chaos.” He smiled slightly on the last word, taking a sip from his cup.

“You think it’s about me?” 

“I know other people think it’s about you.”

Lugh’s casual demeanour was making your blood boil, fire danced between your fingers and your calf was back, nuzzling into your leg. 

“And I also know what I believe, knowing your family and your history. I saw your raw talents as a mere babe.” 

You stared at him, everyone did, waiting for him to go on. But he remained silent, waiting for your request. When you said nothing he raised a single eyebrow and sipped from his cup again. With a sigh, you gave in. 

“Please, tell me.” Your teeth were gritted, fingernails digging into your palms. The last time Lugh had been given free reign to talk to you, it had ended with you storming off and, this time, there was no Loki around to cool your fire. You could still feel his cold touch in your memories, the way he surrounded you and doused you. 

“Your gift,” Lugh pointed at the flames that sat above your skin, “you have been able to do that since I first saw you, swaddled as you were in your mother’s arms. It never burnt you, or her, but it kept others away.” 

“Bres?” 

Lugh nodded, “yes, Bres was already jealous, knowing you were not his, but he is not entirely cruel and had wanted to try for your mother’s sake. No one could get close until Brigid and Frigga tamed the flames. Bres believed you to be a Goddess of Fire,” at this Lugh rolled his eyes, “he always was so literal, such a bore. But the idea stuck, not just for him but with the Vanir as well. They wanted you to bring fire and chaos and Ragnarok so that they could seize power. So, naturally, Bres made a deal.” 

“The betrothal.” 

“Exactly.” 

“But, when he came for me, he said I would be the Goddess of Lust.” Your brow furrowed, “there’s nothing in the prophecy about that.” 

“You are correct, that was his intention. But he did not know you well, he believes he can control these things simply by being a King, forgetting that the universe has its own path, that gods forge their own way. Bres believed you to be a goddess of Lust because he wanted you to be, and then you seduced Loki -” 

“I didn’t seduce him I -” 

Lugh held up his hand, “child, do not fret on these details. You were but youths, you cared for one another.” 

You mused on this idea for a while and Lugh allowed you the quiet of your own thoughts. 

“If I’m not the Goddess of Lust, then what am I?”

“I can only answer for myself, child, for you have yet to ascend and truly come into your powers. But I believe you are the Spring, the way you forge through the darkness and bring new hope and life to those around you. It can be nothing else.”

Spring? You settled into the thought, it was kinder than Lust, yet, there was something wrong, something missing. It didn’t spark your magic the way Loki described enjoying mischief, it left you feeling hollow and empty. For a moment you considered arguing with Lugh, but he’d been so patient and kind it didn’t seem fair to push him away again. 

“And now, child, we must think about the future and not the past. Bres resides on the cliffs of your home, on the very limit of Asgardian territory, and one of your court is missing. I must request that you come with me for protection while the warriors deal with this threat.” Lugh said, matter of fact, standing and brushing the tiny wrinkles from his fine clothes. 

“Absolutely not.” You ground out, your blood cold at the thought of running again. 

As if from a shadow Thor approached again, having left the two of you to talk privately. “Trouble, I really think it would be best if -” 

“Thor, don’t, I know you just want to keep me safe -” 

“We all want to keep you safe, Estrid. Come with me and we can wait for this to be over.” 

“I won’t leave my people, I won’t leave my court, I am a sworn warrior of the Asgardian court and my place is here.” 

“There will be no court if Bres unleashes hell upon you!” Lugh shouted, it was the first time he’d truly raised his voice in anger towards you and it made you shrink back, fire tingling at your fingertips. 

“If you really don’t want me here, let me leave to rescue Loki. If you really want me safe, help me.” 

Lugh cast a withering glance back at Thor, who shrugged his shoulders and looked over at you with a half amused, half indulgent, look on his face. 

“Ah Trouble, you always know just how to twist things.” Thor reached over as if to pinch your cheek, but you batted his hand away, holding it out for Lugh instead, “do we have a deal?” 

Lugh sighed heavily, “is this the only way you will leave? To go from one firefight straight to a viper’s nest?” 

“It is, either stay here and fight Bres with me, or go with me to rescue Loki.” 

“Then I shall accompany you to rescue the mischief maker,” he agreed, holding his hand out, “after all, this village will need all the heroes it can find.” 

You had barely made contact with Lugh’s palm before an enormous bang rocked you from your feet, Thor caught you quickly, righting you as his armour manifested. With a half a thought, yours did too, the velvet and metal a reassuring squeeze against the echoing screams of the people outside. 

Brunnhilde ran in from the kitchen followed by Jane, both in their armour, swords drawn, Mjolnir and Stormbreaker hovering near. 

“What on Earth was that?” Jane shouted over the continuing rumble of noise. Clouds of brick dust billowed from under the doors and misted the windows. 

The largest windows faced out onto the harbour and village square, where snow sludged over the edges of the quay into the freezing waves beneath. Now sepia toned from the stone dust the harbour was at least intact. Brunnhilde marched into the back kitchen where high thin windows looked into the alleyway behind but, with the right angle, she tilted her head up and peered at the cliff above the village. 

“Fucking Bres.” She growled, storming from the kitchen, across the hall and out into the melee. 

Thor was close behind with Jane on his heels, Mjolnir in hand. 

The village was in disarray, rocks and mud sliding down the cliff edge had settled on the rooftops, an entire house had crumbled, its occupants thankfully free of the debris but sobbing in front of the ruins of their home and, from every corner, shadows and soldiers swarmed. 

The cliff seemed to be covered in them, all carrying Bres’ or the Vanir banner, headed by Bres himself, flanked by a cruel looking man at his side, his eyes narrowed and a smirk curling the corners of his lips. 

“I warned you,” Bres sneered, “I told you to come with me, welp, or you would suffer the consequences, I told you to know your place, or I would put you back there.” 

“My place is here,” you shouted back over the chaos unfolding around you, “this is where I belong, these are my people and you will leave them.” 

“Or what?” The Vanir beside him laughed, “I shall enjoy breaking you.” He leered, unsheathing his sword, and lept from the jutting rocks to the fallen debris below, getting closer and closer with each lurching stride. 

You wanted to fall back, wanted your stomach to stop churning, but you held your ground, spear aloft and bursting with flames as he charged. 

On signal from Bres the soldiers gathered closer and closer, the villagers backing up into the square where Thor and Jane corralled them into a circle behind them. 

He was getting closer, so close, and you missed Loki so much, missed his reassuring touch, missed the feel of him beside you, ready to face any challenge, missed knowing he believed in you…but that belief, that knowledge, it didn’t reside with him. Your left hand unfurled, fire whipping from your fingers and curling at your feet, a wall of heat rising before you. He had told you enough times that you believed him, whether he was with you or not. 

“Or, you disgusting pig, I’ll show you your place.” With a speed you didn’t realise you had, your left hand moved forward sending the flame snapping towards him like a bull whip. It cracked on the ground, cutting into the front of his leather boots. 

“You little bitch,” he parried forwards again, pushing through the shield of heated air you’d created, his skin crackling and his sword clashing with your spear. 

“Your argument is with me, leave the people alone.” You snarled, using your spear to push his sword back towards him.

From across the square you could hear Bres cackling maniacally, his own magic flashing as reflections in the windows, you could hear Mjolnir zipping past you and Brunnhilde’s battle cry as she pushed the soldiers back, towards the cliffs. Time seemed to slow, the sun hot on the back of your neck despite the grey clouds and biting wind. 

He stepped closer, pushing through the shield despite the pain until he was nose to nose, flecks of spittle settling on his chin in his fury. 

“I was promised a beautiful, lustful, bride and I have had to chase you across the universe and through the centuries just to discover that you are a wilful, disrespectful harlot.” 

“So fuck off.” Your jaw hurt from gritting your teeth, but you refused to back down, stepping toe to toe. 

“Like I said, I endured all that, and now I get to break you down too and I will savour every -” he pushed you backwards, “single -” his sword raised again, - “moment-” 

Everything went black, the dull roar of fighting in your ears and the startled whites of his eyes as the darkness took over and then blinding light. 

He had fallen back onto cobblestones, but there was no longer a Long Hall behind him, just more empty space, fields and trees, stones and even alpine flowers forcing their heads through the depth of the fresh snow fall. 

“Where the fuck have you taken me?” He jumped back to his feet, sword out. Behind you Thor and Jane backed the last of the soldiers over the harbour wall with a splash before turning to see the empty countryside. 

Beside you, Lugh placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “you did it,”  He smiled softly, “you summoned her cloak.” 

The Vanir fled towards Bres, vanishing with a crack. 

Loki felt a tremor deep inside, a stirring of a preternatural sense, something deep seated and startling. He had felt it only once before, although it had been very recent, when Hela had brought down the palace of Asgard and he had helped the people flee onto a rescue ship bound for gods know where. 

It made him sick, roiled in his stomach and he marched for the windows, banging with all his strength. 

“You must release me, Asgard requires my help. Release me! I must go and protect my people! Let me lose!” 

There was no answer, only the subtle dimming of the lights and the echo of his own pleas. 

<<Chapter 22

Chapter 24>>

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

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

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

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

*

The next several hours are a blur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Or that was your plan, anyway.

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

The room is much colder at night.

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

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

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

But you also have to pee.

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

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

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

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

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

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

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

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

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

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

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

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

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

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

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not yet. Not yet.

*

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

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

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

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

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

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

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

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

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

“Please,” you breathe.

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

“Don’t stop,” you say.

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

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

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

You whimper, your hips rocking.

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

“I need to come,” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it working?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

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

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

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

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mochie85]

Blue Christmas

One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist

Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)

You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.

Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.

It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.

“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.

“Loki- what?”

“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.

“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.

“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”

“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.

“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.

That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.

Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.

The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.

He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.

“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.

“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.

There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”

“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.

“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”

“Why would the season be an issue?”

“Contingency.”

“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.

“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.

As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.

As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.

“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.

“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”

You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger.  “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.

“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”

Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.

You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.

You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.

That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.

Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.

Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.

“…Loki…”

“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.

In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him.

“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.

Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.

“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.

“S’cold,” you gritted.

“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.

“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.

Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.

His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.

You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.

You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”

Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.

He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him.  Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…”  he whined.

You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”

“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.

You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.

You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.

“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.

He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.

“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.

God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.

He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises.  “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.

“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.

“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”

“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.

Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish ++

[lokisgoodgirl]

Delicate [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: As Loki recovers from injury - he needs the sweetest balm to heal him: you (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Fluff. Avenger! Loki x Female Reader. Description of injury (no blood) In my feelings.

Your fingers trail down the centre of Loki’s sternum: tender, purple splotches soaked into his skin like dye. They've barely faded in the month that’s passed. His trademark ivory skin is like a storm cloud and, if you watch for long enough, you’d swear it ripples. He holds his breath, face set in stoicism, lips pressed together in a thin white line.

He forces a pained smile against his cheeks. “Good as new,” he lies.

“Bullshit,” you reply.

Loki releases the breath, head falling back against the pillows.

“I hate this,” he mutters. A month ago, almost to the day, his torso was nearly decimated when he jumped on a huge explosive meant to kill the entire team.

Not just the team, you remember. The city.

He’s lucky, they say. But it’s more than that. His magic was strong — it was strong enough — but only just. There isn’t an inch of him that hasn’t been healing these past weeks: no inch un-hurt.

Well, that’s not true…there was an inch that escaped unscathed. Nine, actually.

His powers re-generate the damage with every hour that goes by — but Loki’s never been one for patience. “I feel useless,” he snaps. “What good am I to you like this?” You stroke hair back from his face, and his blue eyes slide to meet yours. “You deserve better, darling,” he says seriously. “You have needs — I insist you take your pleasure elsewhere. Lang, Barton, Rogers, even..."

His gaze drops, and he looks up under a fringe of ebony lashes. "But someone inferior to me, that is all I ask.”

You almost shove his shoulder in reprimand before stopping yourself. He sighs again. “We can’t go on like this: you fellating me with dutiful care, and me unable to reciprocate.”

He glances at you with such weighty desolation that you almost burst out laughing as he says, “I feel like my brother — it’s terrible.”

And that does it. Your vision blurs as you pick up a pillow and bury your face in it: cackling. “What?!” he sniffs, affronted. “I have been incapacitated of my greatest boon.”

You surface from the pillow, tears of laughter smeared down your cheeks. “Greatest boon?!?” He gestures to the hard-on pitching the covers with a wilting sigh.

You trail a finger down his bicep on the side nearest you: the side that’s almost healed, but you don’t think he’s noticed. His skin is pure, pale velvet from his shoulder to his hipbone like a tan-mark.

“It doesn’t look incapacitated to me,” you say, eyeing his crotch, knowing what will happen. But you can’t resist. There’s something undeniably erotic about having him like this: needy, frustrated, a little insecure. A short puff erupts from his nostrils. “You can’t go on top: too painful. I can’t go on top: too painful. On my knees? Reverse —?” You place a gentle kiss on the side of his mouth. “I love you, Loki,” you whisper, feeling the skin shiver beneath your touch. “I don’t want anyone else- sex or no sex. I’d wait forever if it meant you healed, but…I think I know something that might work.” Loki’s face immediately tilts to you and his features flinch with the sudden movement. “But!” you say, pressing a finger to his lips. “You need to do exactly as I say, and if it hurts…we stop. Agreed?” With your finger pressed to his mouth, Loki rolls his eyes, and you smile. “Good.”

A slow, twitching, hope crawls up Loki’s expression as you move your hand and slide down the bedsheets. You lie on your back, lifting your hips and shuffling the shorts down. Loki says nothing, but his erection strains against the covers and his eyes dart from your eyes to your hips as the panties make a slow descent down your thighs. “Gods, I feel like a virgin again,” he murmurs, and his fingernails scrape against the bedsheets. He can’t quite make a fist — not yet — but if he could, he’d be doing that sexy clenching/unclenching thing where the veins in his hand stand out. Arousal slides between your legs and you make a show of drawing a finger through it. It’s a risk, you think as you raise it in front of you and rub the finger against your thumb. But you know every part of Loki, and he needs this. And now, if you’re careful, he can. Your finger, slick with your arousal, hovers close to Loki’s mouth and he opens, letting you dab it on his tongue. A dirty moan rumbles from his chest, and his eyes roll back like he’s tasted heaven. And maybe, for him, he has.

He's begged you over the past few weeks since he woke to let him touch you, to sit on his face; but he's been too delicate for that. Turning him down has been unbearable. He has a tough time controlling himself once the two of you start, and you couldn't live with yourself if you made it worse — but the lightened skin on his side is new. And it's good. “Roll on your side,” you whisper, grazing the finger down his shoulder. You press gently into the meat of his bicep. “See? It’s not bad, right?” His eyes light up. “Shhh,” you soothe, guiding the god to face you. His face contorts, a grunt slipping through his teeth. “Don’t even think about it,” he growls before the words 'maybe we should wait,' can even shape your tongue.

Loki positions himself on his side. His cock is straining against his stomach: flawless and pale against the backdrop of indigo abdominal muscle.

You kiss him a final time before curling against him, facing the wall. His cock slots perfectly between your ass-cheeks. Loki’s breath shakes against your neck: hot, quick. You hope he has his eyes closed; you hope he’s savouring every second of this as much as you are. As much as you relished the swell of his cum inside your gentle mouth over the past week since he’d recovered enough for you to show him how much you love him — this is different.

And fuck, you’ve missed him. You need this, both of you do. “Nothing fancy,” you whisper as you reach between your legs and cup the thick of his girth. Traces of pre-cum web against your fingers.  

“I don’t know what you mean, darling,” Loki croons. But beneath the bravado, his voice wavers.

The tip of his cock slides against your cunt. “We’ll need to be slow. I won’t be used to you after a month.” Loki’s chest shakes against your back with silent laughter. That must hurt, you think, but he presses a kiss into the curve of your neck. “Slow…I can do,” he says, before sucking a tender bite into the skin. Loki edges his hips forward, the crown of his cock nudging at the rim of your slit. You circle your hips, capturing it, pushing back just enough for your body to welcome him with a short pang of delicious pain. There’s an audible slurp as you take him deeper. You’d almost forgotten how good he feels inside you — almost.

“My love,” he croaks into your hair. You slide halfway down his length, and still. Loki pants gently, and you turn your face to his. “I fucking love you, Loki,” you breathe, “more than anything,” and his eyes grow wider. Those peaked brows sharpen as you sink to the base of his cock: ass meeting the flat of his toned stomach. He flinches. “I’m sorry.” You reach back and cup his jaw. Loki nuzzles into the touch. “Don’t be,” he says, tilting his hips back before burying inside you again with a whisper of, "I've missed you." Pleasure spreads beneath your skin like liquid silk. It’s everything: being in his arms; Loki buried in the deepest parts of you as his heart beats between your shoulder-blades. The ridges of his cock tug your neglected walls, an itch only he can scratch, and your fingers tighten against the bedsheets while his pretty gasps of praise caress your ear. The heat of his skin against your spine is electric. Loki’s hand slips over your waist, cupping your breast, brushing your nipple. “Be careful,” you whisper. But Loki’s kisses work down the curve of your shoulder, lingering on the angle of the blade.

His forehead presses against your skin: moist, warm, alive. Tears prick your eyes at the sudden, unwelcome, memory of when you thought you’d lost him forever. “I love you,” you moan again, and again, and again as he sinks in and retracts with each slow chant of the words.   Soon, you cum. And then, he follows. And Loki heals with each breath which makes your chest rise and fall while you slip beneath sleep: safe in his arms.

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A link to my Masterlist is here

[simplyholl]

Happily Never After Pt. 1

Summary: A marriage proposal from Prince Loki is every princess's dream come true, except for yours.

Pairing: Asgard Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Loss of Virginity.

W/C: 3.4K

A/N: This will be two parts!

See My Masterlist Here

"Married to Prince Loki?!" You shriek. It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard. "Stop being dramatic, dear. You two are very close. Since Prince Thor is already promised, this is the best match we could secure. Your father and I thought you would be happy considering he is your friend, and not a stranger."

"We used to be close! That was ages ago! I loathe him, mother. This is unfair. I would rather marry a stranger." You protest, wiping your sweaty palms on your long gown as you pace the room. "Why do you hate him? We just visited them last week." She tries to reason with you.

"You said yourself he was your best friend. Do you not recall the tears you shed when your father forbid you from spending time with him unchaperoned?" She pours herself more tea, waiting for your reply. "Yes, well he was my best friend. He's a different person now. I barely know him." You look out of your window, the palace in clear view of your own estate.

Your father was king of a neighboring realm, when the ogres attacked, forcing your family to seek safety in Asgard. You were welcomed with open arms. Frigga and your mother became fast friends. Odin relied on your father's knowledge of the other realms' customs, so he became valuable to him. Frigga invited your mother for tea every day. She insisted your mother bring you along since she had two boys close to your age you could play with.

Thor was older, more focused on playing rough with the other boys. He never paid attention to you. Loki was only a year older than you. You often found him reading under a tree instead of playing. He didn't notice you at first until you insisted the older boys let you play. Volstagg accidentally knocked you to the ground.

When Loki heard you crying, he stood up for you even though Volstagg towered over all of you. He was an unusually large child. Loki brought you to his favorite hiding place. Deep in the woods behind the palace there was a treehouse. He explained that he often came there for solace. It was built for Odin thousands of years ago when he was a child.

Thor didn't like to play there because it was too far from the palace. He thought he would get in trouble. One evening, Loki lost track of time and fell asleep in the treehouse. When he was finally found, Frigga had the place cleaned up, so it wouldn't be dangerous. Ever since that day, you and Loki were inseparable. You used the treehouse as a secret lair for you two to spend time alone.

The other children didn't play with you. They only played with Loki because they were scared of Odin. You understood each other completely. You would make up stories and put on one person plays to share your creativity. You grew up together. It went from playing as children, to hiding out in the tree house after mandatory appearances at balls. You despised when your father wanted you to meet other royals. He would force you to dance with their sons. After two dances, you and Loki would slip away to your private place.

You would laugh about the cheesy things they said to impress you. You would never forget the first time your heart skipped a beat. You were laughing about the visiting prince who told you your gown was lovely. It was the most hideous shade of lime green the seamstress could find. You had requested it that way, so you could hide your beauty. You wiped tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes as you told Loki your reasoning for the unpleasing color.

"You should have known you couldn't hide beauty like yours even in that atrocious gown." His sentiment made you blush, your heart stopped beating as he held your gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds too long. You were sure he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes in anticipation, feeling his face draw closer to yours. Then you were interrupted by Thor bellowing down below. Your father was looking for you.

You wouldn't be allowed out of his sight if he caught you out there. When you got home, you wrote everything down in your diary. How Loki had made you feel beautiful for the first time in your life, how you wished Thor and your father would have waited moments longer. The next day your father called you into his study, your diary in hand. Oh, how you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

"I forbid you to see him ever again." Your father's stern words instantly made you cry. Loki was everything to you. You couldn't lose him. You told him it was just a silly crush. That what you had written was just a fantasy you made up. He finally believed your lies, but now you couldn't be with him unless you were chaperoned.

Hundreds of years went by, you were as close as ever. You still found your way around the chaperones. You would sneak out at night meeting at the treehouse. You would stay up half the night together laughing as you did when you were children. He would have you back in your bed before sunrise. You always thought it was unfair that you had to be chaperoned, but Loki could do as he pleased.

Then came your first heartbreak. A visiting prince had met you at one of Frigga's balls. He immediately asked your father to court you. You were devastated. You didn't want to be courted. You were happy with your life. But your father couldn't wait to marry you off. But the more time you spent with the prince, the more you liked him. He had dark hair and blue eyes, sometimes you pretended he was Loki.

But he wasn't and there was your whole problem. No one would compare to Loki. But if you had to marry someone, at least the prince was nice. The prince would often find you with Loki going on strolls through the gardens, eating, and reading in silence. One evening, he visited your estate. He said he wanted to end this courtship. You couldn't think of anything you did wrong. He explained that he was certain your affection lied elsewhere, and he wanted to be the only man in his future bride's life. You didn't understand what he had meant, but you thanked him. You were free once again.

Then the latest scandal sheet was delivered by your maid. It mentioned how you and the prince were getting close. You rolled your eyes, thankful that was over. But when you reached the last paragraph, your whole world shattered. Prince Loki had been seen at the brothel three times this week. Not only that, but he had been caught with an unnamed maid in his mother's garden.

It wasn't uncommon for royalty to fuck around like whores, but this truly wounded you. You cried for a week after it came out. Your mother thought you were upset over the prince ending your courtship, so she explained there would be other princes. You didn't visit Loki for three months after the scandal sheet came out.

Another one hundred years passed, and you had grown used to Loki's womanizing. You were at the market, Loki carrying your basket filled with trinkets, winking at the unsuspecting maidens. He made note of the ones he wanted to bed later. You rolled your eyes, as you handed your coins to the shopkeeper, peeling the orange you just purchased.

"Really Loki, can you go one minute without finding four new lovers?" You joked. "Jealous?" He smirked. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous." "The only reason you are not overcome with jealousy is because you do not know what I am capable of carnally." The bite of orange you had just taken lodged down your throat causing you to choke. Loki smiled, pleased with himself.

"Of course, I wouldn't know that, or care to find out. You shouldn't speak of such things so loudly. What if someone heard you?" You looked around, your maid, Greta had her eyes on the ground pretending she wasn't listening. Loki walked over to her, dropping a few coins into her hand, and whispering to her. You watch as she goes to the next vender looking at the silks.

Loki grabs your arm, leading you behind a tent. "Aren't you curious? Your parents keep you in the dark, only for the bumbling fool you end up marrying to spill his seed in a matter of minutes." You would be like the other princesses, not knowing what to expect on your wedding night, if it wasn't for Loki. He had told you all about the act some hundred years ago, so you would know what to expect. You were thankful for that, at least.

But now, when he was looking at you like that, and speaking of such things, you wished you didn't know. "You won't experience pleasure with them. They just want to produce an heir, and once that's taken care of, he will get a mistress. I don't want that for you. I hope that you find a love match, but that is highly unlikely considering your father allows anyone with a title to court you."

You consider Loki's words as he leans in, his breath tickling your ear. "Let me show you what you are missing. I'll make it good for you. You deserve to experience mind blowing sex at least once in your life." He was the devil himself; you were sure of it. He was so tempting. You knew he was experienced, and women threw themselves all over him everywhere you went. He had to be good at it.

"I - I'm not sure. I would be ruined if anyone found out. My father would kill you.” You whisper, just in case someone was listening. "That's not a problem, I would just marry you before your reputation took a hit." He smiles as if what he said wasn't crazy. "Loki, I couldn't ask you to do that. To be honest, I am frightened. Not of you, but of the act itself. It doesn't sound like it would be pleasurable. Oh, but it must be if every eligible maiden in the kingdom lets you have your way with them."

You continue your ranting until Loki grabs your hand. "I would be gentle with you. We could start slowly. We would only do what you are comfortable with." You agreed to meet him at the treehouse that night. When you're back in your chambers you call Greta in to question her.

"Greta, have you had sex before?" She gasps, looking everywhere but at you. "My lady, that is not appropriate." You sit on your bed, gesturing for her to sit beside you. "Oh, spare me, we have known each other since we were girls. So out with it." You fold your arms across your chest waiting for her to answer.

"Yes, there was one man." She answers, her cheeks turning red. "Greta! Who was it?" She smiles, "Bart, the baker's son. We had a lovely couple of months together, but then he married the butcher's daughter. You see, men are fickle creatures. They use you until they find someone else. So be warned, my lady, keep your heart out of it. Men can have sex without emotions, and us women, well we often times end up heartbroken."

Greta's words repeated in your head all afternoon. You had known Loki for centuries, so you didn't think he would hurt you. But you were tempted to turn around, go back to your chambers and pretend like none of this ever happened. Luckily, he was in the treehouse waiting for you, so you couldn't leave now.

"It has been brought to my attention that men will do this with anyone, so I know it will mean nothing to you. And apparently, it will mean everything to me. I just don't want to regret this." You confide in Loki. "My darling girl, this will mean everything to me too. You are far too precious to me for it to mean nothing. We don't have to do anything if that is what you wish."

"I think you are right. I deserve to feel pleasure, and I trust you. I'm just nervous." Loki cups your face in his hands, bringing himself closer to you. It was so similar to that night when you were teenagers, your stomach erupts in butterflies. You never imagined the cute, gangly boy you knew so long ago would grow into the devilishly handsome man before you.

He kisses you, and it is exactly how you had always imagined. It was as if no time had passed between the moment when he almost kissed you centuries ago and now. You felt exactly the same. When he finally breaks the kiss, you look at him with wide eyes. If just his kiss could make you feel like this, you were in trouble.

Loki sat you down on the old mat you used to read on as children. It had fresh linen on it. Loki must have put it on before your arrival. He pressed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your exposed skin. He had you sit up so he could undo your dress, nimble fingers working quickly on your corset until all your clothing was sat aside. You were bare for the first time in front of a man, but you were not ashamed. You should have attempted to cover yourself, but when Loki looked at you like you were a priceless painting, you felt no need to.

Loki took his time kissing every part of you. He toyed with your nipples, and you felt yourself growing wet. When he lowered his head to take one between his lips, you finally understood why all those maidens would jump at his beck and call. He kissed his way down your stomach, nipping your upper thigh. He spread your legs apart, pleased with your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"May I?" He asks, pink tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. You aren't sure what he is asking, but he knows what he is doing, so you give your consent. His tongue envelops you, sliding from your slit to your most sensitive part. "Loki!" You shout, as he continues exploring you. His tongue flicks your clit as your hands weave through his messy locks.

You never imagined it would be like this. And you suppose if it wasn't for Loki, you would never know. He slips a long finger inside you as he continues licking you, He stretches you, placing another finger inside. You jolt at the intrusion, his fingers curling to caress your walls. You feel like you are about to explode.

"Loki, I feel so wonderful." You tell him. His lips suction around your clit, tugging while his fingers work their magic. Stars explode behind your eyes as your first orgasm rips through you. Loki waits until you finish writhing on his face before coming up for air. He wipes your arousal off his face with the back of his hand.

You think that has to be the most attractive thing you have ever seen. But you are proven wrong when Loki undresses. He has filled out since the last time you saw him shirtless, when you were swimming as teenagers. He drops his trousers, hard cock springing free. You gasp when you see the size of him. You were beyond thankful he told you about the differences between men and women so long ago. What a surprise this would be if he hadn't.

"You still have time to change your mind, love. Just say the word and I will stop." He stalks toward you, lowering himself to the mat. "Please do not stop." You say breathlessly. Loki chuckles, settling between your thighs. "This will hurt, but only for a moment. Tell me when you are ready for me to move."

Loki sinks into you, pressure and pain causing you to cry out. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it. It will feel better soon, I promise." You grit your teeth as Loki bottoms out. He stills inside you, waiting for you to give him permission to move. You take a minute, adjusting to his size, before you tell him you are alright.

Loki slowly removes himself before filling you completely again. After a few thrusts, it starts to feel good. "Faster, Loki, please." You beg, clawing at his back as he ravishes you. His hand comes down between your joined bodies, skilled fingers swirling against your clit. The feeling you had earlier comes back full force, another orgasm sending you soaring. Loki pulls out, finishing on the fresh linen on the mat. You lay there, breathing heavily, looking at Loki. He truly is beautiful. "Shall we go again?" He asks, his signature smirk returning.

Loki laid with you three more times before the sun rose. He walked you back to your estate, making sure you made it inside safely before walking back to the palace. The next day, you were excited to see Loki. You secretly hoped you would spend the day in the treehouse.

"Mary was looking for you." Fandral tells Loki, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, you can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." They laugh in unison, walking away as you round the corner. "Has someone finally caught your eye?" Fandral smiles. "Actually, I plan on asking the princess to marry me." Loki shocks Fandral who places a hand over his heart.

"Did you hear that, Greta?" You ask your maid, unwanted tears filling your eyes. "Yes, my lady." She answers. "Repeat what you heard please."

"Prince Loki said "You can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." She looks at you with pity. "That's what I heard too. Oh, Greta." You collapse into her arms, sobbing. "Let's go home, my lady. We mustn't let the prince see that he has hurt you."

From that moment on, things were very different between you and Loki. He demanded to know why you avoided him now and why you never had a kind word for him. You never answered because he knew what he had done. He just didn't know you heard him talking about you. That was five months ago. Now, Odin was ordering him to marry and they had chosen you of all people.

If this happened before you would be ecstatic. Now, it makes you sick thinking about being alone with him. You had no choice. Your father had been trying to marry you off for centuries, and you always got out of your courtships somehow. You suspected Loki had a hand in it. But now that he wanted to marry you, there was no getting out of it.

You were expected at the palace by noon tomorrow. You paced the floor so many times, your footprints were probably embedded into the floor. Then you had the perfect idea. You would run away.

The next day everyone awaited your arrival. Your mother and father sat with Frigga and Odin having tea while they waited. Thor patted Loki on the back. "Finally, brother. Everyone saw this coming. I am very happy for you." Loki brought his cup to his lips, when a timid knock on the door interrupted them. He jumps up, rushing to let you inside. Instead of you, he is greeted by Greta. "Forgive the intrusion, your highness. It's the princess she ran away." Greta hands Loki the letter you left.

She sniffles, worried about you. While he reads the note, your father and Odin start planning on sending knights to find you. Frigga comforts your mother. "What does it say?" Thor asks, peeking over Loki's shoulder.

Greta, I cannot marry that pompous ass. I would rather live amongst the pigs. Do not bother looking for me, because you will never find me. Tell mother and father I love them dearly. Thank you Greta, for everything. I wish I could have taken you with me. All my love.

"No need to create a search team, father. I will find her myself." Loki states, leaving the room.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter

[oswildin]

y/n: I’m sorry your honour but his blue eyes and obvious struggles with depression have bewitched and ensnared me—

loki: what?

fury: y/n you don’t have to call me ‘your honour’, I’m not a judge—

y/n: your honour, please, he made one mistake

loki: hold on, I’ve ‘bewitched’ you? and I’m not depressed—

y/n: shhh, I’m handling it

fury: you are, in fact, not handling it

loki: can we just… back up a moment?

y/n: honey, I’m busy right now—

loki: honey???

fury: these motherfuckers are gonna be the death of me

y/n: now as I was saying, your honour—

(inspired by @textsfromthetva)

[ghostly-lee]

Hear me out I was falling asleep and suddenly thought about this - Completely unrelated with anything/anyone. It is just like that, ok. So I just drew it 😂

[bebx]

“I don’t need therapy because my comfort characters are my therapy” and it turns out the comfort characters in question are the ones who need therapy the most

[holdmytesseract]

Loki: *paces slowly and intimidately up and down the room, almost like a predetor*

Loki: As a prince of Asgard and heir to the throne, I've been taught how to fight. I fought a lot of wars in the name of my home; saturated sacred grounds with my blood and that of my enemies. Nowadays, it's my duty and privilege as an Avenger to do the same for your home. For Midgard. Just like my brother, I swore to protect this realm - and I will.

Loki: *stops and turns, then crosses his hands behind his back and takes in an elegant, godlike posture*

Loki: I won't hesitate. I won't yield. I am a prince - a god. Nothing fears me. Nothing in this world will be able to bewitch me and cause the loss of focus and the needed coldheartedness. Nothing-

Little Ella, suddenly barging through the ajar door and interrupting her father: Daddy!

Loki: *starts to smile and completely loses his stoic, threatening and serious demeanor* Hi, baby girl!

Loki: *crouches down to catch her and pick her up* What do you got here, princess?

Ella: Daisy tain! *proudly holds up the daisy chain she made with you*

Loki, smiling even brighter: For me?

Ella, nodding: Uh.Huh.

Loki: *helps Ella's small hands to put it on his head*

Loki: Thank you, princess. *presses kisses against her chubby cheek*

Ella: *wiggles and giggles excitedly in Loki's arms*

Loki: *lets her down on the floor again* Go and make one for uncle Thor as well.

Ella: *nods eagerly and storms out of the room again*

Loki: *clears throat and turns back to the huge monitor inside the conference room; putting back on his stoic, threatening and serious demeanor* Apologies, gentlemen... Where was I?

Some of the most important politicians: *blinking and just staring at Loki*

a/n: This lil' blurb came kinda out of nowhere - and ahhh, I absolutely love it, hehe. 🤭🥰

•☆° Baby Fever Masterlist °☆•

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @smolvenger @lou12346789 @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 @loki-laufeyson223 @vbecker10 @lulubelle814 @foxherder

[vbecker10]

As Long as You Love Me

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You've been Loki's only friend since he joined the Avengers and you are trying to hide your growing crush on him since you doubt he feels the same. One night, Loki accidentally catches you singing in the kitchen when you think you are alone and you let it slip that the song reminds you of him.

Warnings: Trying to go for fluff only but there is a little bit of Loki feeling like no one will love him after what happened with Odin, Laufey and Thanos

A/N: Do not judge me for this song choice... because I don't care lol. Every once in a while I still listen to the Backstreet Boys even though in my mid-30s. I thought the song just fit really well with Loki so here we are. Also, I needed something short and fluffy to get me out of my writing slump. Hope you all enjoy this 💚

Thanks @animnerd for letting my bounce this is off of you 💚

"Popcorn time," you say to yourself as you close the microwave in the common kitchen and push the popcorn button. The bag starts to rotate and you move to lean your back against the island as you take your phone out of your pocket.

"Nope, nope, nope..." you hit skip on the next three songs that shuffle through your Playlist unaware that you are no longer alone in the kitchen.

Loki walks into the room, a smile quickly spreads across his face when he sees you. "Hello Y/N," he says from a few feet behind you. His smile fades slightly when you don't respond but then he notices you're wearing your earbuds.

You hum, putting your phone down on the counter next to you as the next song starts, still not realizing that Loki is watching you. Raising the volume slightly louder, you drown out the sound of your midnight snack popping. You begin to lip sync, bopping your head with the rhythm of the song. As the song continues, you start to sing out loud without meaning to.

Every little thing that you have said and done

Feels like it's deep within me

Doesn't really matter if you're on the run

It seems like we're meant to be

I don't care who you are

Where you're from

What you did

As long as you love me

Who you are

Where you're from

Don't care what you did

As long as you-

The microwave beeps and you stop signing as you open the door and grab the bag. You turn back around and nearly drop your snack with a surprised yelp as you spot Loki standing on the other side of the island.

You take off your headphones quickly and he laughs as he apologizes, "Sorry, I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me."

"You sure you weren't waiting there just to scare the crap out of me?" you joke and pause your music.

"If I was trying to scare you, you would know." He smirks, "Would you like me to show you?"

"Definitely not, I'm good, thanks," you laugh and shake your head, opening the bag.

"Stark is more fun to scare anyway," he says as he comes to stand next to you. "I had no idea you could sing," he adds.

You feel a bit confused then you realize you must have been singing outloud. "Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh. "I'm a horrible singer. I thought I was alone or I never would have subjected you to that."

"I liked it," Loki smiles genuinely.

"Liar," you taunt him and eat a few pieces of popcorn as you lean on the counter next to him.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "You know I never lie to you."

"So you're not a liar," you admit, knowing you are in fact the only person Loki never lies to. "But that just means we need to get your ears checked."

"I've never heard that song before," he changes the topic slightly.

"It's old-ish. I used to listen to it when I was a teenager," you tell him and he nods as he takes a handful of popcorn from the bag you're holding. "Do you mind?" you joke as you pull it away from him.

"No," he laughs, eatting the pieces he stole one at a time. "So why are you listening to it again?"

Without thinking, you answer, "It reminds me of you." You immediately look down at your feet as you shift awkwardly away from Loki.

"It does?" he asks and you can hear the surprise and confusion in his voice.

"Uh..." your brain tries to come up with a response but the only thing you can think of is the truth. "Yeah," is all you offer him as an explanation.

You can feel him shifting closer to but you don't look up at him, "Why is that?"

"Don't worry about it, it's just a stupid song," you try to end the conversation. "I've got to finish my laundry."

"If I'm not allowed to lie, neither are you," he reminds you and when you look up, you can tell you aren't escaping just yet.

You bite your lip and hope half of the truth will be enough to appease the God of Lies. "Okay... but just remember you asked," you sigh and he waits patiently for your answer. "Do you remember last month when we were talking about some of the stuff that happened before you joined the Avengers?"

He nods. It was a very long, difficult conversation that neither of you had planned on having. Loki had been acting more distant than usual all week and when you finally convinced him to talk to you, he opened up about how out of place and lonely he felt on Midgard. You tried your best to reassure him that the others on the team would become more welcoming to him once they got to know him better. He agreed half heartedly and followed up his comment by telling you that he barely deserved friends, let alone a partner after all he had done. You stayed with him most of the night, listening to all the things he blamed himself for and trying to remind him that none of what happened with Thanos was his fault.

"This song came on my Playlist randomly a few days later and I was thinking about the chours," you explain. "I don't care who you are, where you're from or what you did as long as you love me. It just kinda stuck with me that that's what you need. Someone who doesn't care that you're a Frost Giant from Jotunheim and knows that you didn't attack the city because you wanted to. Someone who accepts you for who you are."

"And where would I find someone like that?" he asks. His fingers gently stroke your cheek and you look up at him. He seems almost nervous as he smiles down at you.

You force a smile back through your nerves, "I've always accepted you Loki."

"I know you have darling," he says in a soft tone. The sudden use of the pet name makes you blush and when you try to look away, his fingers hook gently under your chin. Loki's eyes lock on yours as he says, "And I love you for it."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you try to process Loki's words. "You... what?" you ask, feeling shocked and confused and sure you misheard him.

He chuckles anxiously at your response, dropping his hand from your chin as you take a small step away from him, "I hadn't planned on you telling you this way..."

You stand in complete silence for a moment, trying to force yourself to admit to Loki that you've been in love with him for months. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out and Loki's smile fades completely.

"I understand that you don't feel the same, that's why I hadn't meant to tell you. Y/N, I don't want to lose your friendship, it means too much to me-" Loki's words are cut short when you put your hand on the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours.

In an instant, Loki kisses you back fiercely. His hands move to your lower back and he pulls your body flush to his as you drop the bag of popcorn but neither of you notice. After a few moments, you break from the kiss to catch your breath and let out a small giggle. "I love you too," you smile up at him, his hands still resting on your back.

"I was hoping that's what the kiss meant," he laughs then leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

You nod then rest your head on his shoulder, one of his hands moves to play with your hair gently. "That's my new favorite song," you say before placing a kiss on his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Mine too," Loki agrees with a light laugh.

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[spookyrea]

... Though I'm Not That Flexible

(part 2 following You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger)

You prepare to tell Loki you love him. Much to his embarrassment, Loki has to tell you something, too.

(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences) (and you're kinda into it) (oops)

Chapter 2 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here

Word count: ~9k

Warnings: 18+ !! fem reader; courtship/nesting behaviour, smut (and I mean... smut)

You watched Steve haul himself into the boxing ring, internally groaning at the thought of going toe-to-toe with the Man with a Plan himself. 

Loki hovered at your shoulder looking decidedly out of place in a button-down and trousers; he was off the training roster for the week after Bucky had benched him for his ‘poor attitude’. The only people currently brave (or stupid) enough to spar with him were Steve and Thor, the latter of whom was banned from sparring with Loki indoors because of, to quote Pepper, the 'Thor-And-Loki Event' in June.

Privately, you agreed with Bucky’s assessment – Loki had been acting strange lately. Clingy, extra affectionate but equally as moody. Any time you tried to pry you were met with the same response – that Loki was “fine” and “had complete control” over the situation.

Sometimes the best option with Loki was to let him come to you. His desire for absolute control was multi-faceted, but it usually worked out best if he could ask for help and feel like he had an explanation as to why. You knew from experience that hounding him could dig up raw insecurities about worth and ability. So - you made the most of it; if Loki was going to be clingy, he could at least be useful and clingy. 

“Hold these, please.” You pushed your towel and water bottle into his hand. Loki accepted them with only minor complaint, tucking them under his arm to make room for everything else you were sure to pile onto him.

Steve rattled the ropes fencing him inside the boxing ring. “Come on, soldier. Don’t keep an old man waiting.”

Loki stretched to hide his sparkling fingertips; you knew his seidr well enough by now to recognize how Steve’s shoelaces unraveled with a mind of their own.

With his arms raised like that, there was no denying Loki’s ‘growth-spurt’ – the buttons on his shirt strained to stay in their buttonholes, gaping a little across his chest. You fought back a grin, watching a young intern (definitely part of Tony’s university pipeline program) spill water down her front while admiring the pull of yet another too-small shirt. A few of her friends giggled, their faces downcast but their gazes teasing, peering up through their eyelashes every few seconds.

“What?” Loki glanced over his shoulder in the direction you were looking.

“Nothing. Some kids are staring at you, that’s all.” You honestly weren’t offended - you remembered what it was like to want Loki from afar, and you weren’t blind. You knew passersby were going to gawk and shoot him longing stares. Loki, however, seemed uncharacteristically upset. His eyes narrowed, upper lip curled slightly in dissatisfaction, and he turned back to you with his shoulders drawn taut. He hooked his fingers in the pocket of your hoodie – Loki’s hoodie, actually, since yours seemed to have mysteriously disappeared – and tugged you into his chest, pressing a firm, dry kiss to your mouth.

You blinked dazedly at him once he’d slunk back. “Is this one of those ‘obviously not interested’ moments?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”

“People stare all the time. It’s nothing new.”

“I know.” A pretty pink blush was creeping up his cheeks, warming his pale complexion. “I just thought it pertinent to make my intentions crystal clear.” Then, after a beat- “Do you think anyone would notice if I locked the changing room doors and had my way with you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course they would. Now– help me up. I have a senior citizen to cream.”

If anyone was getting creamed, it was you.

You circled the boxing ring on shaky feet, watching Steve round on you with that quiet cockiness of his. He flicked his stupidly perfect bangs out of his stupidly beautiful eyes and mimed a one-two punch combo while you considered giving into the universe and letting your limbs turn to oatmeal. Bucky sat in a folding chair on the sidelines, picking your scrimmage apart with his stupidly brilliant and equally beautiful eyes.

You hated them.

Bucky picked up on details you would never have noticed – your uneven stance, the angle of your elbow when you raised your fists – and, while helpful on paper, it only served to raise your blood pressure by a few degrees. Not helped by the fact that Bucky seemed to know what moves Steve was going to make before he did, so could comment on your form before you’d even finished a move.

PAL whistled encouragement when you just barely blocked a left hook. Tony had set him in Bucky’s lap so he could watch you and Steve train. (“He’s so little. He can’t see over anything.”) At least PAL liked you, even if he was out for blood.

“I agree with the pest, darling. You should wring his neck,” Loki offered from the sidelines. He leant his head on his forearms where they were draped over the ropes, his bored expression betrayed only by the way his brow furrowed whenever Steve got too close to landing a hit.

(You were admittedly not very good at hand-to-hand combat. As a telekinetic, your fists were usually a last resort in the field.)

“This would all be so much easier if you stopped - hey! - swinging so much.” You swept the back of your hand across your eyes, hoping to clear the sweat pouring into them. “Also, has your stuff been going missing lately?”

“Kind of defeats the whole purpose of combat training.” Steve frowned, then threw his body weight into a kick to your chest, which you only barely dodged. He stumbled but quickly corrected, spinning to catch your right hook effortlessly. “But no, nothing’s gone missing lately. Well, my veggie straws have been disappearing but I buy those because Bucky insists he doesn’t like them and then sneaks them from my cupboard. Has he been breaking into yours too?”

You squirmed, planting your feet and leveraging your upper body to try and pry out of his hold. Unfortunately for you, Steve was two hundred and seventy pounds of solid steel pretending to be flesh, so you might as well have been a leaf trapped under a fourteen-wheeler. “No. My pillows keep disappearing.”

Your feet briefly left the ground when Steve lifted you by the wrists. He dumped you unceremoniously on the padded floor of the boxing ring and proceeded to loom over you, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and fatherly rage. “Someone’s been perving on you?”

You pushed yourself upright, wincing when you felt your muscles protest the movement. “I don’t know!”

“Weird. Maybe you have a secret admirer. Loki!” Steve mimed an elbow drop but pulled his weight at the last second; he rolled to the side and sprawled out, all six-feet-four-inches of him laid out next to you without having broken a sweat. “Keep an eye on your girl, ya’ hear?”

Loki visibly preened at the idea of you being his girl. You felt a whisper of seidr across your cheek, a sparkling green kiss so fleeting it could have been a trick.

Steve squinted up at him from the floor of the boxing ring. “Are you bigger?”

“You’ve gotta start throwing punches, kid.” Bucky interrupted from the sidelines. PAL bobbed his head in agreement. “Look, I was just like you. A sharp shooter–”

“I’m telekinetic.”

“My point still stands. I did all my best work from a hundred yards away. But sometimes, in the field, you’re gonna have some guy get in your space and wail on you, and I need to know you won’t just fold like a deck of cards when that happens.”

“I’m sorry I’m not built like a tank, Bucky.” You swiped the edge of your shirt over your forehead, grimacing when the already-wet material slid over your damp brow. 

“I’m not saying you have to put on a hundred pounds of muscle. Just-” Bucky slipped under the rope and into your personal space, rounding on you from behind to wrap his flesh arm around your throat. His other hand shot out and circled your wrist, holding it at an awkward angle so that your muscles locked uncomfortably. “Just play dirty. If I get this close, I will kill you. So what are you going to do about it?”

You hissed, jerking under his metal hand. “Ow, Bucky, I get it–”

It took all three of you a moment to register that the noise rumbling through the air was coming from Loki. The fluorescents overhead flickered in waves, darkness ebbing and flowing from a point above Loki’s head. They buzzed and crackled unnaturally with displeasure. Bucky’s arms dropped away to put a bit of space between your bodies. Loki’s eyebrows drew tight in the middle, a scowl twisting his pretty face.

“Hey, My Chemical Mischief,” Tony yelled from across the gym. “Cool it with the dick measuring contest, will you? We get it, she’s a kept woman - I don’t think Barnes wants any of that.”

Thor laughed. Racking his barbells, he straddled his padded bench and flicked sparks of electricity from his fingertips, a strange side-effect that manifested whenever he strained himself. He taunted something to Loki in their mother tongue and the effect was instantaneous; Loki gaped at his brother, his growling cut short, and hurled something – an insult? – back. 

With a few words they reduced the other to adolescents. Though none of you mortals could even hope to dissect their twisting language, it was clear that the two of them were rehashing centuries of arguments all at once.

Loki reeled back when Thor, his nose tilted to the ceiling, punctuated a sentence with a nod in your direction. “You will do nothing of the sort,” Loki snapped in English.

“Loki.” Exasperation dripped from Thor’s tone, mingling with the kind of joy that came from lecturing a younger sibling. He folded his arms and shot Loki a smarmy do-as-I-say glare. ”This is only going to end in disaster.”

Loki’s jaw snapped shut with a click. His pinched expression seemed to push Thor to hysterics. Thor goaded him on, wagging a callused finger; Loki’s hand fisted at his side as he moved to strangle his brother.

They must have been terrible pests on Asgard.

In English, Thor continued: “I have never been happier that you were adopted. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You’re preening. ”

Loki crossed the gym in a few long strides, a veritable storm cloud brewing over his head. The air crackled, ozone heavy in the air; the difference in pressure caused the open changing room door to slam shut, as if a draft had kicked up. Tony hopped to his feet, pointing between the two brothers. “Nuh uh. You guys take it outside. I am filled with too much scrap metal for you two to be throwing thunderstorms around inside. Again. ”

Loki grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck. Thor stumbled, still laughing, and tucked his shoulder into Loki’s chest as if to throw him over it. Loki hissed something unintelligible - Tony hollered something unrepeatable - and then the two brothers blinked out of sight in a flash of bright green.

You ran into them in the lobby on your way back from the corner store that evening. Both of them were soaking wet, their plainclothes plastered to their skin. Loki brushed by you with a stormy expression, anger rolling off of him in palpable waves; Thor followed a few feet behind, decidedly more jovial. Loki called over his shoulder: “do not say anything, Thor. I’m handling this.”

They left a trail of rainwater in their wake, their shoes squeaking across the marble floor. Thor clapped you on the shoulder as you passed and, through the widest grin you’d ever seen, said: “my darling friend – make sure you use protection.”

A flash of green sizzled across Thor’s knuckles; he yanked his hand away with a shout, raising his hand to examine a line of fresh, pink welts. Loki hissed at him; Thor cast you a sideways look, then winked. To his brother, he called: “I am always right, am I not?”

Loki snapped his fingers, calling Thor to attention like a master might call their dog to heel. Except Thor was the oldest, and had a petty streak longer than the continental United States, and his younger brother’s displeasure clearly brought him unbridled joy, so Thor slung one arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze, rubbing his prickly cheek against yours for good measure.

You squirmed under his arm. “Is this another Asgardian thing?”

Thor answered “no” at the same time that Loki answered “yes”.

Loki stormed back to your side and wrenched his brother away, speaking in a low tone. Fixing his brother with a scathing stare, Loki rubbed his thumb over your jaw, then rode his hand down the curve of your neck to sit on your shoulder, as if to wipe the physical evidence of his brother’s touch from your skin. 

Thor sidled up behind Loki and scrubbed a hand over your cheek; Loki, hackles raised, elbowed his brother in the side, setting off a chain reaction of flying fists and snapping teeth. 

Your groceries were definitely melting. “I’m gonna go. Uh, Loki, you can… You can come upstairs when you’re… done…”

Loki, who was trapped in a headlock by his older brother, nodded jerkily to you. “Of course, dear– Thor. You foul–” 

You watched as your boyfriend transformed into a glossy black snake. He fell to the marble with a sad, wet slap and played dead, lolled tongue and all.

Luckily, your ice cream was mostly salvageable.

The shower was hot. Maybe a bit too hot. Steam cloyed, clouding your periphery and leaving you feeling flushed. You contemplated switching the tap a half an inch toward to the right, but then you risked overshooting and being too cold. 

“I’m being called away,” Loki said by way of greeting. He was still a bit damp; his hair had just begun to curl around the ends. The steam, its attention caught by the open door, billowed around him on its escape path. “I was going to tell you earlier, but my brother had other plans.”

“Oh, that’s not fair. Close the door, please?”

“Right. Sorry.” The door slipped shut with a click. Loki hoisted himself onto your bathroom counter, his hands clasped loosely between his knees while he watched you rinse the last suds from your legs. “Believe me, darling, I don’t want to leave you, but it seems that Fury wants my head on a stake.”

“Thor, too. What was that about?”

Loki waved a hand. “Brotherly taunts. Now would you hurry up? I want to ravish you before I’m a decrepit, thank you very much.”

“Give me a minute.” You turned your back to him for a better angle under the shower head. You heard the shower door slide open – you assumed so that Loki could ogle you properly – then startled when his shadow crossed over you.

“Loki!” You shrieked, cringing when wet cotton slid over your belly as he wound his arms around your waist. “You’re fully dressed! You can’t– bad! Naughty!”

“I was already wet. Now I’m warm and wet.” He tsked, rubbing his cheek against the curve of your shoulder with an arrogance only a prince could muster. “I just couldn’t resist.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“Truthfully, pet, I don’t think I’ve ever felt less remorse in my life.” His wet fingers fumbled with the top button on his shirt. The plastic was slippery and the buttons small, so it took more than a few tries to get the first one out; by the time he had wrenched the third free, he was cursing. “Ok,” he said around a laugh. “Maybe I’m a little remorseful. But this is your fault, let it be known.”

“My fault?”

“Yes.” Two more buttons down. Loki growled, then tore the rest of them out with a firm jerk of the button placket. They scattered, bouncing off the tile with tiny sounds, and Loki struggled to pull the sleeves off his skin. “You’re so beguiling. I’m– I can hardly tear myself away.” He threw the shirt through the open shower doors, then considered his trousers. “Oh, nevermind.” With a flick of his wrist, the last of his clothing melted away. “Why do I even bother, honestly?”

You tipped your head back against the shower wall and hummed, enjoying the simple pleasure of Loki’s nearness. He was a vision under the spray, dark hair plastered and curling over pale skin and pink lips parted, glossy with water. When his fingers crept over your hip to tease the skin under your ribs, your chest soared, the hollow space between your lungs aching ice cold. 

(You loved him). 

(You promised yourself you would tell him when he returned from whatever mission Fury had assigned, come hell or high water - and you almost believed it.)

When you opened your eyes, you found Loki to be looking at you with the most peculiar hunger. “What?”

“I can’t look at you?”

“I wouldn’t call that ‘looking’. I would say you’re eating me with your eyes.” You rolled your shoulders, then reached around him for the tap. “I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy. Let’s dry off and you can tell me all about why Fury is taking you away from me.”

“You mean you let me suffer through that whole ordeal for naught?”

“I didn’t ask you to climb in here fully clothed. Now– chop chop, loverboy. You’re closest to the towels.”

He left in the early morning. It seemed to take a great deal of physical effort for him to extricate himself from your bed, even greater than it did on Sunday. By the time he had slipped into his last piece of armour, his breath was short and tense, and his mouth turned down in a harsh curve.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You don’t seem yourself.”

“I’m fine. Just don’t… Just wait for me, okay?”

You were a couple seconds behind, your brain still heavy with the early hour. “What do you mean, honey?”

Loki shook his head. He leaned his weight on the edge of the bed and curled over you, pressing a dry kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry yourself. Go back to bed.”

“I can help–”

“I have it all under control. I’ll be back in a few days.” He said the last part like he was trying to convince himself more than he was you.

Only three days later and you were going a little stir-crazy. Maybe whatever clinginess-disease he had had rubbed off on you.

You couldn’t take it anymore – you missed your boyfriend. He had been scheduled to return that morning but another impromptu snowstorm had pushed his arrival back by a day, leaving you with an empty afternoon to putter. But once your laundry was done and your shower scrubbed, there wasn’t much left to do besides twiddle your thumbs and marathon episodes of Forensic Files. 

You took the elevator to his floor and let yourself in with a spare key. Your shoulders dropped, an unregistered tension draining as you breathed in the familiar smell of Loki’s cologne and lavender incense. There was a certain comfort in the menial reminders of him – his shoes by the door, his coat on the rack. You tossed your keys on the kitchen counter. “So much for man-eating wolves.”

You half expected his fridge to be barren, considering how much time he had spent over the last week in your apartment, but you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked – too well stocked. Whatever occasion he was preparing for was unknown to you, but he seemed to be anticipating an apocalypse or city-wide shortage of seasonal fruits and vegetables. You helped yourself to some from a pre-cut container and shuffled toward his bedroom to take a nap.

You stopped dead in your tracks under the threshold.

“You are the pillow thief.”

Fabric was draped languorously from every surface - a stack of quilts over his desk chair, pillowcases folded neatly on his dresser. The curtains were drawn tightly, two or three panels layered on top of each other to block out as much natural light as possible. He appeared to have gathered every pillow in his apartment - and a few of yours - and piled them in a semi-circle against the headboard. A few had fallen to the wayside, at the foot of the bed or scattered across the carpet, and a great spread of throw blankets was draped across the comforter. You could just make out the corner of one of your t-shirts peeking out from his pillows.

There was a decidedly two person-sized divot in the centre of it all, like you were meant to burrow in together.

“What have you been up to, my darling boy?”

You crawled across the covers and peeled them back, layer by layer. More of your shirts tumbled out, as well as a hoodie and a cashmere scarf. It was bewildering to say the least, but not entirely out of the norm for Loki. (He once spent two weeks meticulously replacing all of your cutlery with a mismatched charity shop set, so what was a little blanket theft, really?) You just couldn’t quite put your finger on why he had chosen this prank, nor why he would bother to build a veritable nest out of his spoils.

Tired and more than a little giggly, you tucked yourself between two comforters and curled up on your side. You’d have to ask him when he got home.

(In his defense, it was really comfy).

You blinked awake to the sound of your phone vibrating. It took you a moment to find it among the layers of blankets and pillows but eventually you wrenched it free and swiped accept. “Hello?”

Loki’s voice carried through the little speaker. “Where are you? You’re not in your apartment.”

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “That’s because I’m in yours.”

There was a long, drawn out silence. Then, “you’re what?”

“I’m in your apartment. Which– you have so much explaining to do.” You pushed yourself out of his bed. Through the phone, you heard FRIDAY greet him and a familiar jingle when Loki punched the button for his floor. 

“I… You weren’t supposed to see that.”

You laughed. You could hear him struggling to find his keys, his anxiety palpable even through the phone. “Loki, was this some sort of prank to keep me from refusing to sleep over?”

“No, it…” His keys ground in the lock. “It was…”

You pulled the door open for him. He blinked owlishly at you, his phone pinched between his shoulder and his cheek.

“Hi,” you said, and your voice echoed through his phone.

He ended the call. “Hi.”

The two of you walked together, Loki on tentative feet while you guided him, pulling on one of his harness straps until you were through the threshold. His bag slid from his shoulder with a thud; he was still wearing his armour, which you smoothed your fingers under and began to unclasp piece by piece, setting it on the table by the door.

“Loki,” you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you want to explain the nest in your bedroom?”

His shoulders tensed. “Thor, you bastard.”

You worked one of his leather straps free, tossing it aside. “What?”

“Just - ignore this,” he said. “Go back to your apartment. I have to go kill my brother, and then burn everything I own, and then maybe I’ll be able to scrounge up the dignity to see you before sunrise.”

He made an aborted movement to turn out from your arms, but you reached out with your mind and slid the deadbolt in place before he could slip through the door. “Nuh uh. What does Thor have to do with this? Is this about your fight? I haven’t spoken to him since I ran into you two in the hall.”

“Wait.” It was your turn to face Loki’s ire, it seemed, because he whirled on you, his finger raised accusingly. “How did you know about the nesting then?”

“I was joking.” You pulled the final knife sheath free, leaving him in his leather breastplate and heavy wool trousers. “I mean, you piled all of our collective pillows into a queen-sized bed. Do you mean to tell me you’re actually nesting? Is this another Asgardian courtship thing I should know about?”

“I-” Loki looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. A familiar curl of self-consciousness had begun to spoil his expression. He turned his cheek and spit out a curse. “Nevermind.”

“Loki, please.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you one in return.”

If there was one thing Loki loved more than self-pity, it was being let in on a secret. His eyes bolted up from glaring a hole into the hardwood to catch yours, assessing your deal. “Do not make bets you cannot pay, darling.” 

“I already have the perfect secret picked out. Explain.”

He watched you for a long time. Eventually, with a very careful, measured tone, he opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve never… Oh, this is humiliating.” Loki scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Asgardians know very little about Jotun customs. It’s… We didn’t have much need to study them, outside of battle. But it’s common knowledge that frost giants… mate for life. They pick someone to bond with and when they’re serious… In the spring… ”

 “Loki,” you cooed. “Humor me.”

He groaned and slunk to his knees before you. His forehead pressed against your hip while both his hands curled around your calves to steady himself. He mumbled something unintelligible against your leg.

You ran your fingers through his hair. “What was that?”

Loki sighed. “When they find a suitable mate they try... I’m… My biology is trying to entice you to tie yourself to me. Forever.”

“So the nesting thing? And the um… the clinginess?”

He toyed with the edge of your t-shirt. “Yes. I… I get quite upset when you don’t respond favorably to my… advances .”

“I picked up on that. Wait,” you pinched the meat of his bicep. “Is this why you’re getting bigger?”

“It appears that my glamours are failing, yes.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re growing in some new plumage to woo me with?” You trailed your finger along a featherlight path over his jaw. Lowering your voice, you couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Are you going to sing for me next?”

A scowl twisted his expression into something mean. “You forget who you’re speaking to, mortal.”

His tone did nothing to dissuade you. So rarely were you the one with the power to tease and you intended to take advantage. “Anything else I should know?”

“Well, if I’m already speaking candidly…” It came out bitingly, Loki’s voice laced with a burning mix of self-deprecation and frustration. “I can hardly think about anything else other than bending you over every available piece of furniture and fucking you until one of us passes out.”

“Loki,” you warned as his fingers wormed their way under the waistband of your pants. “We’re finishing this conversation.”

“Later, darling.” He pushed them down an inch and pressed his mouth to your hip. “Let us at least enjoy my biology for a little while.”

“Loki.” The air crackled, seidr whispering across your skin where the two of you connected as he considered testing your resolve. You felt the phantom impression of hands around your wrists, which you shook off with a glare. “Down.”

His lip curled in displeasure but he obeyed, sitting back on his heels. “It’s infuriating. Let’s just pretend it’s not happening.”

You joined him on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. “What does it mean to… ‘mate’?”

Loki’s shoulders rounded and bowed; he tilted his face away from you, hiding his expression behind a wall of thick, black hair. “You just… are. You’re partners for life. A family. I’m not sure there are words in any mortal language to explain the breadth of it.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It seems my biology has decided that you’re a good match for… that.”

“Loki…”

“I love you.” He said it so plainly, as if he was commenting on the weather. Your heartbeat turned hot and dizzy as you watched his long fingers trace the floorboard, his words rattling around in the space between your ears – I love you, I love you, I love– “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re wearing my ring, and my knives, and my clothes. You smell like me–”

“Wait–”

“I built you a nest. I’m not human. Your priorities are in desperate need of reassessment if that’s the part you’re uncomfortable with.” Loki rolled his eyes, that bit of familiar petulance peeking through his foul mood. “Anyway. It makes sense that my body would choose you. That I would… would want to convince you...”

“You know you don’t have to convince me.”

Loki picked at a knot in the wood, a loathsome smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Oh, but I do.”

You couldn’t bear the distance any longer; you crawled the last couple of feet to wrap your arms around his chest. He tipped into you, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. Yet, despite his pain, a part of you sang as you stroked a line down his cheek. You were loved and in love – what greater joy was there than that?

Not for the first time in your relationship, guilt welled up in your chest. Being in love with Loki felt a little like learning a new language; he was so capricious, so aloof, that you sometimes felt like you were left out of a joke when he teased you, or flirted, or sidled up to touch you. It often wasn’t until afterward that you became aware of the fact that he was being sincere, that his teasing was earnestness wrapped up in a barbed tongue. 

His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt. You might not have always understood his advances, but you would try to. For him, you would always try.

“Is there some sort of ritual involved? Do I have to cover myself in runes or something?”

He shook his head against your chest. “I think it just… happens. I’m not sure. There are very few intricacies about frost giant habits with which I’m familiar. But based on how my body is responding, I would assume it boils down to ravishing you on every surface available to me.”

You hummed. “And what will happen if we ignore it?”

Loki, turned mute by anxiety, drew a line down your arm with his knuckle. Finally, he mumbled, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be very… sad. For the next few days.”

“Sad?”

“I know logically that you’re not, but it feels… Like you’re rejecting me.” 

“And how do you want me to respond?”

He sneered again and ducked his head, dragging a hand over his face frustratedly. “I want you to bare your throat to me.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside of you. “What?”

The glare Loki shot you was bitterly cold. “Do not pretend that you misheard me.”

“No, no, Loki,” you reached out and twined your fingers together. “I mean, surely there’s more than that, right? You want me to do the same things for you? To- to nest? I’m not going to hunt a stag or something for you but I can definitely, like, go to the butcher and get you a prize cut.”

Loki shook his head. “I just want you to accept. To accept me .”

“And the throat…?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You ran your finger along the edge of your t-shirt, where it sat snugly against your collarbone, and watched his pupils dilate. Wordlessly you tugged on his hand, drawing it up to your neck, and placed it there loosely. “That’s it?”

His hand tightened, fingernails catching ever so gently against your skin. “You heard the part where I said that frost giants mate for life, yes?”

You nodded. “Mhmm.”

As if possessed, Loki leaned forward to nose at your pulse point. “So you understand that this… this is forever.”

“And ever and ever?”

“Brat.” His teeth scraped across your skin. “I’ve grown tired of this one-sided vulnerability. I believe you promised me a secret, pet.”

“I did.” You took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

His fingers stilled around your throat. He seemed to not even breathe as he considered your confession. With a calculated effort, Loki peeled his hands off your neck and his voice, deep and rumbling with restraint, cut through the silence. “You should run.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Unless you want me to fuck you here on this cold, hard floor, I suggest that you run back to that pretty little nest I made you.”

A hot flush washed over you, starting in your cheeks and pooling in the pit of your belly. Loki leaned forward and sweetly kissed your collarbone, then reached up and tore your t-shirt down the middle.

“Loki!”

He smiled against your cheek. “I wasn’t joking, my love.” He sat back on his haunches and folded his hands in his lap, his gaze simmering with something molten hot. Though he moved slowly, projecting a characteristic aloofness, you could see the tendons in his neck straining as he worked against instinct to hold still. He grinned, all teeth, and jerked his chin toward his bedroom. “Run.”

You scrambled to your feet. The hardwood was slippery under your socks. You took a couple tentative steps backwards, watching the way Loki’s eyes raked over you like a butcher pulled pork. Your skin buzzed under his gaze as if you were standing under a powerline, electrified by a well of energy crackling overhead. 

His control was crumbling by the second. The faucet was leaking– Tony had promised he’d have someone over within the week to fix it – and the water beading on its edge began to sizzle and pop, blinking out of existence in green bursts. The microwave display went black as Loki’s seidr overwhelmed the kitchen’s circuit breaker; the hum of the refrigerator died with it, plunging the room into an unnatural silence, so heavy that you could hear your own breath catching in your chest. Loki shifted his weight to his knees.

Your heart thrilled.

You broke in unison; you started to run at the same time that Loki sprang to his feet. A laugh bubbled up out of your chest; you reached out with your mind and swept the cushions off the couch, pelting Loki with them before he could reach you. He swore, and a tongue of emerald light crackled at your ankles, nearly tripping you. You stumbled but managed to make it over the threshold of his bedroom door. Something collided heavily with the wall behind you, followed by the sound of debris coming loose and littering the floor.

You landed with a bounce in the center of the bed, sending a cascade of pillows tumbling to the ground. Loki appeared moments later, breathing heavily and bracketing the door with his arms. He must have tripped during the chase; dust and bits of drywall covered his left arm. His irises had disappeared, carved to mere slivers by his blown pupils. Your breath caught in your chest when you noticed the line of his cock, hard and wanting, straining against his pants.

You shrugged out of your ruined shirt while Loki stalked across the small bedroom, still dressed for battle. He swatted a discarded pillow out of the air when you used your powers to raise it, then shredded another one in an eruption of light and feathers when you tried to catch him from behind. A low purr rumbled through him, melting into the hum of his seidr as it thrummed through the air.

Sensing he would tear through every scrap of fabric you managed to throw up between yourselves, you yielded slowly, tipping your chin back, drawing his attention to your throat.

Loki’s body hit the bed with a muffled thump. He crawled up the length of you on shaky limbs, pressing a grateful, sloppy kiss to your mouth before moving down to your pulse point. Burying his face there, Loki dropped his full weight on top of you. “You really should not indulge me. I might never let you leave.”

“I’ve always been terrible at saying no to you.”

He laved at a spot on your neck. His hips pinned yours against the mattress, shifting against you aimlessly as his arousal heightened. Experimentally, you pressed your leg into him; a groan tumbled from his mouth before he closed one hand around your thigh and rutted up a little more purposefully. “Love. My little love.”

Loki pushed up to his knees and pulled on the strap holding his breastplate in place. You sat up on one elbow and pinched your bra clasp with the other hand. It had only just come undone when Loki worked his hands under the band and tugged it off of you roughly. You tsked in retaliation, then pulled his armour over his head. Just as soon as it hit the floor, Loki was crawling backwards, sliding his hands down your thighs with a heavy reverence.

Your pyjama pants joined the scattered mix of armour and plainclothes on the floor. Now that you were completely bare, Loki slunk up to admire you, leaving a wet trail of kisses over your body until he reached the thin skin over your pulse. One of his hands pushed your knees apart to draw featherlight circles across your inner thighs. 

You tugged on his hair, trying to convince him to lean up and kiss you properly. Loki grumbled but did not concede; his left hand slipped from between your legs and took your wrist, jamming it against the headboard before returning to run circles around your clit. When you pulled, you found your arm immobilized; a tangle of green light pinned it in place above your head.

“Rude,” you gasped. Loki smiled against your neck, dragging his chin through a trail of his own spit.

“Evil,” he agreed.

“Can you at least- at least take your pants off?”

The air shifted; when you glanced down, you were pleased to find that Loki had magically done away with the rest of his clothing, giving you an unobstructed view of his lithe body. You hummed, satisfied, and slid your free hand down his back to palm his ass.

Loki lazily drew his middle two fingers up and down your slit, toying with you in a display of casual dominance. Occasionally he would dip into you, pressing only far enough to leave you wanting before retreating to trace an intricate pattern of knots between your thighs. Despite the hard weight of him, nestled in the cradle of your hips and burning hot with desire, he seemed determined to take his time tangling with you. You rocked your hips, seeking some sort of pressure or friction, and were met with a haughty grin against your breast instead.

You babbled. You begged. The fingers between your thighs patronized you, pressing but never breaching, circling but never stroking. 

Finally, though you suspected it was due to his own neediness and not the way you were pleading, he raised his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue, hot and possessive, over yours. Between the teasing pressure at your cunt and the burning weight of his cock against your hip, a desperation paced in the space between your ribs that left you aching, left you wanting. You tugged a little more firmly at your restraint. When that didn’t budge, you worked your free hand under him to run your fingers up and down the underside of his cock.

The bedside lamp buzzed and flared. Loki nipped at your bottom lip. “I’ll take away your other hand if I have to.”

And yet, despite his warning, Loki slid his fingers inside of you, a little deeper, curling slightly, and pressed at that soft spot you needed him to touch. A smug curl of delight rose in your belly, that you could make him so docile with a touch. You closed your hand around his cock and pumped him slowly, testing your sway. 

“Pet,” he pleaded. “Just let me take my time with you.”

You bit back a sigh when he sat up, blinking wide cow-eyes down at you with an expression bordering on insecurity. “Please, Loki. My love.”

He choked out a whine. His eyes shut tightly for a heartbeat, eyebrows creased deeply in the middle. Your hand slipped free from the headboard – victory – but before you could really enjoy your freedom, Loki flipped you over on all fours.

“If all it took to domesticate you was a four letter word, I would have said something sooner.” One of his hands came down in a warning tap against the side of your thigh. You gasped out a laugh, turning your cheek to catch a glimpse of him. His fingers were splayed over his eyes, partially obscured by his wild hair, and his mouth had turned up in a grin, his usual cool demeanour betrayed by a giddy kind of anticipation. You pressed back against him. “Is this the part where you fuck me?”

He tugged you upwards, manhandling you onto your knees in front of him. You felt his chest mould to your back as he shuffled closer to slot his cock between your thighs, tauntingly, sliding through slick, heated skin, his cockhead bumping against your clit with every pass when his hips met the plush of your ass. “Oh, I’m not going to fuck you, darling.” 

You reached between your legs to guide him inside you, but Loki snatched your hand by the wrist and held it there, so his cock glided just along your fingertips, occasionally catching at your entrance only to pull away at the last second.

“I’m going to lay claim to you. I’m going to breed you,” he panted against the shell of your ear. Your thighs clenched tight when Loki pressed the heel of your hand against the lip of your mound, applying pressure to your aching clit. “I’m going to ply you until you are limp and then I’m going to fill you until you are dripping, understand? I’m going to mark you so thoroughly that you will never be rid of me.”

He pressed even harder, rolling your hand by the wrist. His eyelashes brushed the heated skin of your cheek as he pressed his face to yours, drinking in the closeness of your body. “And when all is said and we’re sated, I’ll make love to you. And that’s a promise.”

Your eyes squeezed shut. You whimpered, your back arching into him while he worked you higher and higher. Loki murmured praise against your skin. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

He smiled against your shoulder. “Excellent.”

One of his arms hooked under your breasts, holding you up and flush against his chest. The other tilted your hips back, so you were nearly sat in his lap.

“Can you…” Loki huffed out a laugh against your skin. In a small voice he asked, “Tell me you love me again?”

There was no universe where you could deny him that. “I love you. Loki, I love you. Loki–”

Your eyes squeezed shut as he fed you his cock, inch by delicious inch, until you were fully seated against him. He swore, then growled out another stuttering laugh. A hot breath washed over the shell of your ear as he tucked his chin against your shoulder, and an experimental roll of his hips had you jolting in his arms, your toes curling when he slid over that spongy, sensitive spot inside of you.

“God,” you gasped.

He hummed in agreement, slipping his free hand between your legs to apply a firm pressure to your clit. His head rolled against your shoulder as he started a slow, teasing pace. “Pretty thing,” he cooed.

You felt his eyebrows furrow against your back. His mouth dropped open, panting hot air across your shoulder blades. Your hands shook, fisting in the bedsheets; you felt tears well behind your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you, a bit of pleasure and a bit of pain. You choked out a moan, a gasp, his name cut short.

“Loki. Please. I can’t.”

“You can,” he said against your shoulder. The hand between your legs grew a little desperate, sliding in tight circles while the rest of him worked you at his mercy up and down his cock. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? My pretty little mate,” he continued. “You are, I know you are. You’re going to come for me, and then you’re going to take what I have to give you. You’re going to let your mate fill that little cunt of yours and you’re going to be grateful, hmm?”

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut. You were teetering on the edge of a knife, a knot in your belly drawn tight but threatening to unravel at any moment. A gasp tore from your chest when Loki changed angles, pulling you down with more force while leveraging his body weight to thrust into your harder. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder and you squealed, one hand flying behind you to anchor yourself against his hip.

“Yes,” Loki gasped. “Yes, that’s it darling.”

Relief washed over you for a heartbeat, a small coil shattered as Loki worked himself into you. You rocked back against him, writhing in his iron grip. The pressure on your clit eased away for a moment before doubling down, his middle two fingers burning molten pleasure in their wake as seidr sparked over your skin from his fingertips. Chasing relief in your body, he mouthed at your shoulder a little mindlessly. Your name tumbled from his lips, a plea, for what you weren’t sure.

Small sounds were punched out of your chest with every thrust, growing in volume as he went on and your body buzzed with overstimulation.

“Please,” you begged. One of your hands curled around his forearm, gripping him tightly, while the other fisted in one of the long-forgotten pillows. “Please. Please, Loki.”

Your legs clamped shut when your orgasm finally crested. Loki swore, tumbling, stuttering to his own edge before plummeting; he tugged you down and held you there, spilling inside you with a shaky groan.

Finally, he lifted you off his lap and slid out of you. You tried to turn over in his arms, but he tipped the two of you onto your sides and held you in an iron grip against his chest. He mumbled something foreign in your ear, intercut by the occasional sigh or a press of his mouth to your sweat-slick skin.

You tried again to turn around but Loki held you still. “Give me a minute,” he panted.

You squirmed. “But I want to kiss you.”

Loki leaned over your shoulder and kissed you, his eyes squeezed shut. Hardly satisfied, you tried to hold him in place, but your exhausted limbs were no match for him; he slunk back out of sight only a moment later.

“Loki,” you whined. His arms tightened.

“I’m not… myself right now.”

Slowly, you rolled over in his arms to face him and soothed your hands up his chest. An attractive flush coloured his pale skin, spreading from the top of his stomach to the highest points of his cheeks. You picked a flake of drywall out of his hair. 

His eyes were downcast, shuttered and turned away so you couldn’t see into them. “I don’t want to frighten you,” he mumbled.

You tilted his face up; his eyes had changed, the irises gone red. They weren’t quite gemstones, or cherries, or robins or cardinals. The same red as poppies, maybe. Startling against his pale skin, framed by thick, dark lashes, but so deeply endearing, swimming with emotion as they flickered back and forth over your face.

You must have been quiet too long; Loki huffed and buried his face in his pillow.

“No, wait,” you said. “Come back. Let me look at you.”

“No. I can’t bear it.”

“Stop being dramatic. Let me look at my pretty boyfriend.”

“Your pretty boyfriend is out of commission, I’m afraid.” His voice was muffled. He patted the bed until he found the comforter, which he then pulled over his head petulantly. “He can’t seem to control himself right now. He’ll come out later.”

You wormed your hands under the blanket and pulled it back from his face. Loki sighed and peered up at you from behind his pillow, his eyes barely open to slits to glare at you. You pushed a curl off his forehead, followed by a dry kiss to his cheek. “You know your eyes change colour all the time, right?”

“But the green is handsome. Intimidating,” he grumbled. “This is…”

“Gorgeous.”

“Horrifying,” he countered.

You pouted. “That’s my mate you’re talking about.”

That seemed to break the spell he’d fallen under. You felt the gentle brush of his fingers first, then the smooth slide of his hand down your side to hook around your hip. He drew you into his chest so he could press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “Hi.”

You returned his smile. “Hi.”

“You’re really not afraid?”

You pushed a stray pillow off the bed, trying and failing to extricate one of the blankets to drape over your bodies. Loki had been right about one thing - it was freakishly cold this week, and the chill was beginning to needle your sweat-damp skin unpleasantly. “Honestly, I’m more worried about the food in your freezer going bad. You blew a fuse in there.”

“Midgardians. You have no sense of self-preservation.” Loki reached out to help tuck you in. 

“Mhm… Coming from the guy whose favourite schtick is ‘pretend to grovel until you think up a better plan’.”

“That is, by definition, self-preserving.”

“Whatever. You blew a fuse. And maybe fixed the leak?”

“I also punched a hole through the wall.”

“Tony is gonna be so mad at you.” You scraped your fingernails across Loki’s scalp, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. “Ok, five more minutes and then we need to get cleaned up.”

“I think you’re mistaken, pet. We’re not leaving this bed for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not risking a UTI for that.”

Loki groaned. He pulled his mouth from your neck just long enough to kiss you. “Fine. Shower?”

“Yes, but we’re just showering. I don’t want to get waterboarded like last time.”

“Of course, darling. Not in the shower.” He kissed you again, slowly this time, coaxing your lips apart with a thumb on your jaw. When he finally pulled away it was with a hiss and a sticky, wet sound. “Although I do intend to bend you over the sink so you can watch yourself fall apart first.”

“Oh?”

His red eyes found yours. They narrowed, sparkling with mirth, as he gathered you up in his arms. “Tell me again,” he purred, “how much you love me. I might just have mercy.”

You did.

He didn’t.

Not that you minded.

[michelleleewise]

Can I have a story where reader has a huge crush on loki (reader won't admit they're inlove tho) and wants to be his in every aspect? She doesn't want to confess because she knows she'll get rejected and knows she's not his type. Though reader maybe sneaky, they forget that loki can sometimes read minds. They play this cat-and-mouse game it may or may not lead to smut 👀 I kind of had this idea by listening to "I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Thank you so much <3

Hiiiii!!! I'm sorry this took so long to get to!!!! But thank you so much for sending it to me!! I hope you like it!!! 💚💚💚

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Thinking of You

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: swearing, mild yelling, mind reading, self esteem issues, NSFW, masturbation, mildly rough sex (nothing graphic), if I missed anything let me know!! 💚

Summary: Everytime you see Loki your thoughts run wild....unbeknownst to you, he can hear them too...

A/n- sorry this took so long!!! It's probably terrible, I'm a bit rusty......sorry!!!!! 💚💚

"No the other way." You urged into the coms, swiping between screens on the computer screen like a maniac trying to guide the team to where they needed to be. "Y/n, where is it!?" Tony yelled into his earpiece making you wince "there is no need to yell Stark" You heard Loki's smooth voice sound in your ear making you sigh "that's easy for you to say Rudolph, you aren't surrounded by agents." Tony said when you heard an explosion echo into you ear. "Do stop complaining Stark." Loki said when you heard a grunt sound through Loki's coms "you are becoming rather insufferable." He continued making you giggle "I swear laufeyson, when we get back..." Tony started when you heard Thor's booming voice join the conversation "would you two please desist with this nonsense!" Thor yelled making you jump.

"Yes, please silence yourself stark....now darling which way do we go?" Loki asked into his earpiece, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine "i...I...let me see" you said searching the map again "take your...umph...time darling, no rush." Loki purred into your ear as you heard a thud on his end. "Ok, everyone needs to get to Loki's location, that's where the serum is." You said pulling up everyone's position, "aaah, Right again I see." Loki laughed into his earpiece "shut up Loki." Thor bellowed into his coms "come now, jealousy does not suit you brother." Loki mocked making you laugh "something funny agent?" You heard Tony snark into the coms "no sir, sorry." You said looking down at your hands.

You listened as the team completed the mission, bickering the entire time. If you were honest you weren't sure how they didn't kill eachother everytime they went on a mission. "Alright, back to the jet everyone." Tony said. "I thank you for your assistance lady y/n." Loki purred into the earpiece making your cheeks heat up "y...you welcome Loki "Alright romeo let's go...shutting down coms, see you back at the tower." Tony said as the line went silent. You took a deep breath pulling your earpiece out when Nat walked over leaning on your desk "quite the sweet talker isn't he?" She asked making you giggle "well they do call him silvertongue." You said trying to not look at her "yeah, makes you wonder what else he can do with his tongue." She said as you stood up "Natasha!" You whisper yelled making her laugh "oh come on, we all know how you feel about him." She said as you grabbed a stack of files quickly turning "I don't know what your talking about." You said making your way to the filing cabinets.

"Y/n, why don't you just talk to him?" She asked following you "I do talk to him." You snapped hoping she would let it go "you know what I mean y/n." She scolded crossing her arms "because..." you sighed setting the files down "because there will never be a universe where he feels the same." You said opening the filing cabinet "you don't know that, the way he talks to you..." She started when you slammed the drawer shut "I'm not stupid nat, he's just being polite...letting his princely charm ooze out of him. I've seen I him do it at parties." You said closing your eyes "I'm not special, he doesn't like me and he never will...why would he?" You asked walking back towards your desk "um, your funny, smart, witty.." nat said continuing to follow you "plain, ordinary...boring." you huffed grabbing your bag "y/n seriously..." you cut her off lifting your hand "no, he doesn't know...he'll never know." You said walking towards the door, stopping in the doorway "I...I don't think I could handle that rejection." You said before walking out heading towards your apartment

You spent the next few days chained to your desk, stacks of mission reports to go through and file from the last mission. Looking up rubbing your eyes seeing you had worked past your lunch "I need a break." You sighed closing the file you were working on as you stood up. Grabbing your coffee mug you made your way to the break room and the espresso machine Tony had recently installed. After choosing what you wanted you leaned your head against the cabinet waiting for the machine to do its thing, praying it would hurry when what nat said the other day ran through your mind does everyone really know....am I that obvious? You thought when the loud beep pulled you from your thoughts. "Thank god." You breathed bringing the cup to your lips taking a small sip you closed your eyes feeling the caffeine touch your soul "mmmhhh." You moaned with a sigh.

"Now that is a sound I could get used to." A deep voice behind you said, your eyes shooting open as you turned seeing Loki leaning against the doorway his arms crossed, the buttons of his white shirt straining against his chest "l...loki w...what are you doing here?" You asked setting the cup down "oh, some nonsense of starks." He said pushing off the doorframe sliding his hands in the pockets of his tight black jeans "something about not completing my reports." He shrugged taking a step into the room "o..oh, um he didn't say anything to me." You said fidgeting with your fingers "well let's be honest, when have you known stark to be organized?" He asked making you laugh "so, naturally I came to you to see if there were any...discrepancies." He purred coming to stand in front of you, his cologne wafting between you making you sigh god he smells good you thought hearing loki laugh "do you like the cologne? I just purchased it." He asked smiling "oh...yeah! Your...rrr I mean it...it's good." You stuttered watching his smile widen

"well darling, if you wouldn't mind may I....come with you?" He asked, the baritone in his voice stirring something inside you I'll be coming later you thought remembering all the nights you touched yourself at the thought of his large hands roaming your body, his deep voice whispering how much he wanted you in your ear. You bit your lip seeing him raise an eyebrow at you "er...um sorry...what were you saying?" You asked wringing yours hands "Darling, i was asking if I could come and look at the reports." He said smiling again "oh! Right...yes absolutely!" You said shaking the impure thoughts from your head as you stepped around him and headed back towards your desk. You sat down, digging through the stack of files until you saw "Laufeyson" pulling it out "ah, here it is." You said freezing feeling a hand on your back "you forgot your coffee my dear." He purred setting your cup on the desk "oh, thank you Loki." You said feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Now, let's see shall we?" He asked, taking the file from you He sat it down on the desk in front of you, his one hand sliding to the back of your chair as he leaned his large lithe frame over you, feeling the heat from his chest against your arm. "Hmm..." he hummed flipping through the file page by page, his scent ingulphing you as your mind raced at his proximity to you, the way his forearms flexed with each page turn, your eyes tracing the veins running down to his... "I do not see any issue, do you darling?" He asked when you tilted your head up towards him, your nose almost touching his as he leaned closer "i...um...." your mind going blank as your eyes met his, you couldn't help stare into them. They always reminded you of a forest after a storm, the deep green and blue swirling in a maelstrom as powerful as the man they belonged to but at this closeness you could see specs of gold shining in them.

"Loki..." you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his lips they look so soft you thought when you felt him lean closer "y/n." He breathed when you looked back into his eyes "i..." you trailed off, feeling like your heart was going to beat out of your chest "tell me darling." He whispered as he hovered over you his eyes never leaving yours "i..." you tried again, your mouth going dry feeling his finger tuck your hair behind your ear "hmm?" He hummed expectantly the tip of his nose touching yours "agent y/l/n." You heard from across the room making Loki shoot straight up as you jumped "a..agent hill, morning...er afternoon." You stuttered watching Maria walk in "and what do we owe the pleasure Loki?" She asked nearing your desk "oh, I was only ensuring my report was accurate, I would hate to make miss y/n's job harder then it is." He explained, freezing feeling his finger slowly trail up your arm. "Well im sure the agent has it under control Mr. Laufeyson." Hill said coming to stand on your other side "yes, she does. So I will take my leave...perhaps I will see you later agent." He purred as you looked up at him seeing him smile "o...ok, bye Loki." You smiled back as he bowed slightly before walking to the door.

You sat staring at the file Loki had been going through when you felt Hill nudge you "oh my God, what was that about?" She asked sitting on the edge of your desk, her stern demeanor vanishing "i...I don't know." You said looking up at her "well he looked like he was about to eat you." She laughed making you laugh with her "no, he just wanted to go through his report." You said setting it back on the pile "riiight, even though he's never had an issue with them before." She said crossing her arms. "I...well maybe he...umm." you stuttered trying to think of a reason "dude, just accept the man wanted to eat you like a cream filled donut." She said making you laugh "what!? No he doesn't!" You urged hearing her laugh "well apparently you didn't see the look on his face." She said hopping off the desk. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe he likes you too." She shrugged walking to the door "no he doesn't, he's just being nice." You said grabbing your cup "uh huh...whatever you say." She winked as she walked out.

You sat back sipping your coffee trying to process what had happened when you heard your name called, looking up seeing Tony "Hey kid, I just wanted to check and see how those are coming along." He said pointing at the reports "fury is down my throat about them." He laughed as you looked up at him "oh yeah, they're almost done." You said setting your cup down "oh, and Loki came by like you asked." You said grabbing his file "i didn't ask him to come by." Tony said crossing his arms "yes you did." You said looking back at him "no....I didn't." He argued making you sigh "you sent him down saying there was an issue with his reports." You argued back tossing the file down "I hate to break it to you, but I didn't send him down here, I haven't even talked to him in days." He said making your eyebrows furrow "just have them done by tonight ok?" Tony asked as you nodded looking back down at your desk. "If Tony didn't tell him to come down here.." your thoughts trailed off as you looked up at the clock seeing it was already almost three "shit.." you sighed pushing your thoughts aside grabbing the next file getting back to work.

It had been a couple weeks since your last interaction with Loki, but you couldn't get it out of your mind, it was beginning to drive you crazy. You were sat at your desk tapping your pen on a stack of files remembering the way his eyes stared into yours, how close he was to you, frowning remembering the lie he told you "Hey y/n, I need you to have Thor fix this." Maria said setting a piece of paper on your desk, seeing it was one of his mission reports "oh? What's wrong with it?" You asked picking it up "look at the description." She laughed as you looked down at that section seeing a simple "we won" written "I've told him that's not adequate but..." She sighed shaking her head. "Could you please have him actually write what happened?" She asked as you nodded "yeah, I just gotta find him." You said standing up "I believe he's in the training room, good luck." She smiled walking out. "Of course he is." You sighed walking towards the elevators.

You took a deep breath grabbing the handle of the door you pulled it open seeing Thor sparring with Steve as you walked in "Thor!" You yelled getting his attention seeing him smile at you as he walked over "Lady y/n, what can I do for you?" He asked setting his hammer down "you didn't fill out your report from the last mission." You said holding the paper out to him "you have to write a full description." You said holding your pen out to him "I do not see why, we won that's all that is important." He said grabbing the pen "just write something to make Hill happy." You laughed crossing your arms "very well, give me one moment." He said walking to the benches sitting down.

You looked out into the training room seeing Natasha on the treadmill, Steve had gone over to the punching bags, and then your eyes landed on Loki, dressed in black gym shorts that gave you full view of his muscular thighs, accompanied by a black tank top that was so tight you were surprised he could move, biting you lip watching as he sparred with Bucky. Your eyes traveled up seeing his long hair pulled back into a low bun, sweat making a few loose strands stick to his forehead as he pivoted and swayed, avoiding all of Bucky's attacks with the grace of a dancer. "Fuck...." you breathed, crossing your foot over the other clenching your thighs together trying to hide your arousal as bucky lunged at Loki when his large hand grabbed his throat, planting his foot behind bucky he threw him to the mat on his back kneeling next to him with his hand still on his throat god he could choke me anytime you thought biting your lip when Loki's eyes suddenly met yours making you jump.

His eyes didn't leave yours as he stood up, extending his hand to bucky pulling him up you watched his bicep flex, the veins in his arms bulging as Bucky got to his feet goood...I want trace them with my tongue you thought feeling your face heat up, arousal pooling in your stomach as your eyes met his again seeing a darkness in them you never had before "Lady y/n." Thor suddenly said next to you making you jump "apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." He said as you clutched your chest "no, it's ok." You said taking a deep breath "I have finished your report." He smiled holding out the paper "oh, thank you thor." You said quickly grabbing the paper "are you ok? You look a little flushed." He said as you ripped your pen out of his hand "yes! I'm fine." You said glancing over seeing Loki still watching you "i...I gotta go, see you later." You said quickly turning and walking towards the door, one last look back seeing Loki's eyes still on you making you shiver as you walked out.

You made your way back downstairs gripping the pen and paper in your hand, walking into Maria's office you slapped it on her desk "there." You said turning around "you ok? You seem...off." She said making you turn back to her "yeah! Totally fine!" You rushed out "I'm gonna call it a day, I'll see you tomorrow." You smiled before walking to your desk shutting everything off heading back upstairs to your apartment. Walking in you closed the door behind you leaning your back against it "Dammit Loki." You sighed closing your eyes, the friction of your clothing against your core making you moan "bath...a bath sounds good." You said rushing into the bathroom you turned the water on adding the bubbles as you pulled your clothes off before easing into the hot water.

You leaned back, closing your eyes you pictured the broody God, his eyes....his smile...."loki.." you whispered sliding your hand down your stomach, you gripped the side of the tub as your fingers slowly slid over your folds, biting your lip as you slowly moved your fingers down to your entrance dipping them inside you rocked your hand back and forth, imagining they were Loki's. "God...Loki..." you moaned moving your fingers faster, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach "mmm....haaaarder...." you breathed picturing Loki's eyes staring into yours, his hand wrapped around your throat "fuuuck..Loki." you cried out feeling orgasm wash over you, squeezing your thighs together you slowly slid your fingers out.

You took a deep breath still feeling unsatisfied "ugh, that usually works." You sighed sitting up rubbing your temples. You groaned, grabbing your body wash you cleaned yourself up before getting out of the tub, the ache still very present in your core. Looking up seeing it was almost ten "Maybe I'll make some tea." You said to yourself slipping on your sleep shorts and a bright green tank top pulling your hair back before opening your door and making your way down to the kitchen. You slowly walked in releasing a breath seeing it empty and dark "good, everyone must be busy." You said walking in grabbing the kettle filling it before setting it on the stove.

You opened the cabinet seeing all the coffee mugs on the top shelf "freaking giants" you mumbled lifting you knee onto the counter pulling yourself up freezing hearing someone clear their throat. You slowly leaned back, peeking out from behind the cabinet door seeing Loki standing next to the counter by the door, wearing the white shirt that would cause your death, his hand in his pocket as he tilted his head "h...hey Loki." You said smiling nervously "evening y/n, may I ask what it is your doing up there?" He asked when the kettle screamed. You cleared your throat watching him move it and turn the burner off. "Well, you see....I couldn't sleep so...tea." you laughed as he looked back over to you "and all the mugs are up there." You said pointing to the top of the cabinet "ah, I see." You heard him say as you reached up grabbing a cup.

You went to put your foot down on the floor when your other knee slipped causing you to drop the cup as you fell back off the counter when an arm wrapped around your middle pulling you backwards, you back hitting solid muscle looking to the side seeing Loki smiling down at you. "Your cup my lady." He said lifting his other hand you looked at it seeing your cup dangling from his finger "t..thank you." You stuttered lifting the cup from his finger. "You really must be more careful my dear." He purred when you felt his thumb sliding up and down by your rib, slowly moving up towards your breast "i...I should finish the tea." You said pulling away from him walking to the stove. Stop it y/n, he's just being nice you thought shaking your head when the cabinet door slammed making you jump, turning to see Loki's hand on it.

"Loki...are you ok?" You asked as he turned around "no y/n, I'm afraid I'm not." He said taking a step towards you. "I...I can get bruce...or thor?" You asked stepping back as he came closer "I'm afraid neither of them can assist me." He growled continuing his advance as you walked backwards through the kitchen, loki right on top of you "um..well I could.." you trailed as your back hit the table "these games have exhausted me y/n." He said coming to stand in front of you his chest inches from yours "I don't know..." you started when he leaned forward planting his palms on either side of you caging you in "do not lie to me y/n," He said sternly making you shiver "l..loki i..." you sighed looking down fidgeting with your hands when he leaned forward freezing feeling his breath on your ear.

"I love your eyes as well." He whispered making your head jerk back looking at him "i...you..." you stuttered as the realization hit you "yes dear, there are times i can read your thoughts." He said as your eyes widened "h...how much is sometimes?" You panicked seeing him smile "well, it comes and goes, but depending on how...hard your thinking they make it through." He purred as you looked down, embarrassment flooding through you "y/n look at me...please." He whispered as you took a deep breath "Loki i..." you were cut off by his lips gently touching yours before he quickly pulled back checking gauging your reaction as you stood speechless. You must have taken too long to respond as panic flashed in his eyes as he slowly stood up "i...I have over stepped, I apologize." He said taking a step back, the loss of contact kicking your brain into gear.

"Wait." You rushed out fisting the front of his shirt you pulled him back to you, rising up on your toes your lips crashed into his, your other hand sliding across his side to his back pulling him closer moaning feeling his tongue slide along your bottom lip, his hand cupping the back of your head as you parted your lips hearing him groan as his tongue slipped inside tangling with yours. God his lips are soft you thought when you felt his hands slide across your sides to your back moving down his palms cupping your ass squeezing making you moan into his mouth as he lifted you up setting you on the table. Stepping between your parted legs he pulled back slightly as he kissed along your jaw, tilting your head back feeling his lips wrap around your earlobe "l..loki..." you moaned when his hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you towards him groaning feeling his erection press against your thigh.

God, fuck me..please fuck me you thought screwing your eyes shut feeling his teeth nip at your pulse point "say it." He growled, the husky tone of his voice making you shiver "w..what." you breathed when he pulled back looking into you eyes, his hand gently gripping your chin "I want to hear you say it." He growled his jaw clenching as he watched you with an intensity that sent electricity up your spine "i..I want..." you stuttered seeing his eyes darken "yes..." he encouraged rubbing his thumb across your lips "i...want you Loki." You whispered seeing him smile as he leaned down to your ear "do you want me to fuck you y/n?" He breathed as you gripped the table screwing your eyes shut "y..yes...please." You said, opening your eyes meeting his "norns..." he whispered as he lunged forward his lips crashing onto to yours, his hand going to the back of your head as he guided you down onto your back.

Arching your back feeling the cold wood through your thin tank top "I need to feel you...now." loki growled against your lips as his other hand slid up your side to the bottom of your shirt "as much as I love seeing you in my colors..." he trailed off standing up his hand slipped out from under your head joining the other, hearing a loud rip you gasped feeling the cold air hit your bare skin, looking down seeing your shirt ripped in half "gorgeous." Loki purred placing a large hand on your stomach, his finger tips ghosting over your skin as he slowly slid it up to the valley of your breasts gently pushing you back down. "One more thing." He smiled when you heard another rip, feeling your shorts and panties pulled from you. "Norns....you truly are magnificent." He purred as he wrapped his hands around your thighs sliding you to the edge.

"Loki...." you moaned feeling his clothed cock press against your core "I know my dear, be patient for me." He groaned lifting his hand a green light swept down across him, shivering feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance "are you ready love?" He asked making you look up, his smile melting your insides as his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs "y..yes....please loki." You whined laying back stretching your arms above your head "mmm....we'll have to look into that." He growled as he leaned over, his large body hovering over yours as he pushed his hips forward, stretching you slowly as he entered you. "Gods your...mmm tight." He groaned, bucking his hips forward making you gasp as he bottomed out.

"Holy fuck." You cried out digging your nails into the table as he leaned further over you, his eyes meeting yours "are you ok dear? Do you wish to stop?" He asked, concern lacing his tone as you stared up at him "God no!" You rushed out wrapping your legs around his middle, a deep rumble coming from his chest as he laughed "loki?" You asked wrapping your fingers around the end of the table "move...now" you demanded shifting your hips "as you wish." He growled as he planted one large hand next to your head, the other gripping your hip as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip in before slowly pushing back in.

"H...holy...." you moaned as he set a steady pace, burying his cock further inside you then anyone ever had God, he's ruined me you thought when he suddenly snapped his hips hard against yours jolting you up the table "that was the idea my dear." He growled "my cock will be the only one that can satisfy you." He said gritting his teeth as he slammed into you "Loki!!" You cried out gripping the edge of the table "the only pleasure you will find is impaled upon me as I bury myself in your perfect cunt." He said, his fingers digging into your flesh as he set a brutal pace, the table shifting under his thrusts as he consumed you. "F...fuck! Loki...ahhh....i.....im...." you cried out as his tip hit that soft spot deep inside you "are you going to come my dear?" He groaned, sliding his hand under your shoulder pulling you to him as his pelvis hit yours "y...yes....God Loki!" You yelled feeling the familiar tingle in your abdomen.

"Come y/n...come on my cock." Loki gritted as he thrust hard into you as your orgasm slammed into you screaming his name as he continued his unforgiving pace "w..whose cunt is this?" He growled digging his fingers nails into your shoulder "y..yours..." you moaned feeling another building "who....n...norns...who do you belong to?" He moaned screwing his eyes shut as you squeezed your legs around him "y...you Loki...only you!" You cried out as he bottomed out, holding himself there you felt him release deep inside you triggering a second orgasm as he slumped on top of you laying his forehead on your shoulder, his warm breath fanning your skin as you let go of the table, a hand going to the back of his head running your fingers through his hair, freezing feeling him stiffen.

Why did i do that...I shouldn't have done that you thought as you pulled your hand away "y/n?" You heard Loki ask but your thoughts drowned him out i....I should go...this was probably a one time thing... "y/n look at me." Loki's voice rang out again as you tried to slip out from under him what am I going to cover up with....I need to get back to my.... "y/n!" Loki yelled making jump, your eyes shooting to his "apologies, I did not mean to yell but you were lost." He said as he grabbed your hand helping you sit up "now, let me make one thing perfectly clear." He said raising his hand again, the same green light traveling across your skin as your clothes reappeared "you...are mine now." He said leaning forward "you are not a one night stand, you never were...you deserve much more then that." He said as you looked down fidgeting with your fingers "you deserved to be treated as a queen, a goddess...my goddess." He said brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face

"so y/n, will you alow me to take you out?" He asked as you looked up at him "m...me? You want to date me?" You asked laughing but seeing Loki looking more serious then you ever had "I um...I'd like that Loki, very much." You said seeing him smile "how about we go to my chambers and you put on one of your midgaridian films and we can talk more hm?" He asked making you smile "that sounds nice." You said sliding off the table as he held his hand out, placing your hand in his He linked your fingers together as he guided you down the hallway to his room "loki, does that mean your my...boyfriend?" You asked as he smiled down at you opening his door "you may call me whatever you wish, as long as you are mine." He said as he waved you ahead of him "I'll always be yours....my king." You said walking through the doorway "mmm....now that will get you more then you bargained for." He growled following you "oh, I'm counting on it." You smiled closing the door behind him.

@mjsthrillernp @eleniblue @nina25sblog @lokiandbuckysdoll @muddyorbs @crimson25 @kkdvkyya @kaylalikescatsandstuff @chokeanddagger @chantsdemarins @ladymischief11 @jaidenhawke @high-functioning-lokipath @lokidbadguy @buttercupcookies-blog @crzyplantladyvibes @princessdragon23 @lelliefant @stupidthoughtsinwriting @sinsandguilt @emarich7 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kikster606 @edelweissbarnes @kateslife15 @holdmytesseract @pennyl4n3 @huntressandlioness1 @libbybeaz @lokidokieokie @irishhappiness @daggers-and-mischief @dukes2581 @peachyjinx @ladyofthestayingpower @mysticalmayhem1930 @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @janineb86 @anukulee @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @aniar4wniak @jotunqueenneith @yelkmelk @lokisgirl96 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @genderfluid-anime-goth

[cleo-fox]

Close Quarters

Part 2 of 2

(Part 1)

Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.

A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.

Mercifully, the hallway is empty.

You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.

It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.

“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.

“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”

“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.

“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”

He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”

You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.

Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.

“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”

Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”

“Good. Undress.”

He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”

You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.

He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.

You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.

You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.

You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.

You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.

When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.

Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.

In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.

You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.

And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.

You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.

The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.

“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.

“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.

“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.

“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.

“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”

Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.

The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.

“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”

You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”

His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”

You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.

“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.

His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”

Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”

You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.

The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”

You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.

His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 

“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”

“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”

Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.

“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.

“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.

“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”

There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”

He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.

And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.

“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”

You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.

“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.

“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.

“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.

“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”

“Good girl.”

His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.

You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.

He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.

“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”

Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.

“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.

“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”

The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.

He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”

You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.

He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”

Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.

He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”

This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”

You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.

“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”

This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.

“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”

Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.

“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”

Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.

Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.

You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.

His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”

You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.

“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”

You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”

You moan against his cock, sucking harder.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”

You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”

Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.

His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”

You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.

He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.

You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.

He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”

You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.

“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”

You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.

He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”

His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.

“I told you I need you,” you murmur.

He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”

He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.

“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.

You moan and nod.

He repeats the action. “And this?”

You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”

“Loki, please—”

“What is it darling?”

You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.

“Please don’t stop, please—”

“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”

“Loki, please—”

He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.

“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.

“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.

“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”

You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.

You nod, words somewhere beyond you.

“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”

You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.

“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”

You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.

“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”

You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.

From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”

You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.

“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.

Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.

“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.

“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”

You whimper. You are almost there.

“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”

It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.

“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.

You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.

It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.

You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.

“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”

If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.

“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[annmaximoff18]

Loki: I made us some friendship bracelets.

Y/N: Oh that was very ni-

Loki: *handcuffs himself to Y/N*

[lokisgoodgirl]

loki stuffing your panties into ur mouth to keep u quiet while fucking u in the empty throne room !!!

Don't mind if I do. 😎🩲 Ps. I HC that Asgardians don't really do underwear, so we have something else instead.🧤

Throne

Warnings: Smut/ Soft dom! King! Loki/ Gagging/ Breeding kink elements. I've been off work this afternoon so rattled this out, apols for any snaffoos - I'm in a bubbly mood today so fancied some filth. w/c 750 A link to my masterlist is here

Loki’s angular face is all sharpness and shadows in the gloom of a hundred torches lining the wall.

“Closer,” he orders, and you obey. Your eyes flicker penitently from the floor, pinning on his as you climb the steps. His leather-gloved fingers toy leisurely with the strap around his hips; the pop of metal buttons echoing. Everyone else is at the feast, and the throne room has never looked more beautiful: like a glittering, golden tomb. This isn’t what you expected when the king slipped you a note in the great hall – but now you’re here, you can’t imagine it being anything else.

“Closer,” he says again.

One corner of his mouth curls. You gasp as he reaches out, pulling you to his lap in one harsh movement and the iron meat of his bound cock slams against your clit. Loki’s hands run covetously up your thighs, pushing the chiffon dress around your hips. “Ore and blood,” he breathes, slipping a finger between your folds and thrumming against your clit. "I've wanted you all night. Hel's fire, you have no conception of how much." A strangled moan scrapes from your throat, and immediately the free hand not making lazy circles on your cunt is pressed to your mouth. “Quiet,” he warns gruffly. The god’s hair is glossy in torchlight; tangled with a sheen like magpie wings. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Use your hands. Quickly.” You grasp against his crotch, sliding a hand inside his leathers and curling around what lies within. Your eyes widen, and Loki’s amused expression twists to pleasure as your grip tightens. He's as hard as the marble pillars. “Gods, how I’ve wanted this,” he says breathlessly as you shift up and hover over the tip. “Say it?” you beg, brushing the head of his legendary cock against your slit. “Please…”

Pearls of sweat glisten on Loki’s forehead, and he looks up beneath those dark lashes, his bottom teeth jutting forward as he tries to restrain himself from thrusting into you like the sexual beast he is. “I command you to fuck the king, as you were born to do,” he drawls with all the regal arrogance you’d requested. Your slippery pussy edges down the god’s length, meeting the root with a filthy growl from his throat. Loki’s hands fly to the arms of the throne, and you’re sure his knuckles are whitening beneath those slutty leather gloves as you begin to rock against him. Your groans sound like music in the empty hall; bouncing between pillars of marble like mockingjay song. “Quiet,” he grits, brows peaking. “You’ll alert…a-alert the guards.” You tighten around his cock in response and give an insolent, echoing whine of pleasure. Without another word Loki brings his hands together and peels one tight, leather glove in front of your face. You follow his movements as he plucks the tips of his fingers: one, by one, by one. “Don’t…fucking…stop,” he enunciates slowly – and a thrill of dangerous desire swells in your lower belly. His face is clouded with manufactured disdain as you moan again, squeezing around the fat, sensitive tip before sinking to the base with a rattle of his name.

It’s interrupted by Loki’s fingers flying to your jaw; stuffing the leather glove inside your open mouth. You choke on nothing, eyes wide and cunt throbbing.

“There. The perfect angle for me to fuck you full of myself: here where you belong…me on my throne, and you on yours.” Loki’s eyes blaze as his grip moves to your ass, pulling you flush to his chest; buried against your cleavage and thrusting so deep you think you might shatter. “When the king tells you to keep your voice down, he means it,” Loki whispers hot in your ear. He releases a disgustingly gravelled rasp of pleasure as his one gloveless hand tangles in your hair. It pulls gently while the other guides your hips: leather sticking to the sweat misting your skin.

A muffled moan of understand is all you can muster as Loki’s cock stretches you; his pubic hair tugging your clit; an orgasm so powerful welling between your thighs you could swear the throne was trembling. The leather stuffed between your lips tastes warm; oak-birch undertones of his natural scent making you dizzy. Even if you both screamed your orgasms to the old gods, the guards won’t come, they know better than that. And he knows it, too.

“Where better for my glorious wife to conceive a future king than on my throne,” Loki growls, his voice beginning to break as it comes undone. His mind, too. And as he does, unhinged and bucking everything he has inside your heat – so do you.

The glove isn’t enough to stifle the cry of his name in your throat - it never is.

-----

👑❤️x Tags in comments as per.