#loki x female reader smut
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lokisgoodgirl · 11 months ago
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Like a Queen [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a dirty, praise-filled railing. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Mirrors. Language. Established relationship. Smut. (w/c 1.2k)
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"Urgh, gods..." Loki slurs as his head falls back.
A year. It's been a year. But every time you see that face lost in the pleasure only you can give it's like the first time. In the mirror at the foot of the bed, the hard angles of Loki's jawline set like an anvil. He tips his chin to the ceiling and sinks so deep, so slow, it's like he never wants it to end.
Your best lingerie clings to damp skin, the modest slit in your crotchless panties tugging against Loki's thick cock. Slow, liquid thrusts slip against your walls and slurp when he circles his hips; hands guiding your ass against him. He teases himself at the entrance while you moan his name before easing back in with a groan.
"What did I do..." he breathes as his sex-drunk face falls forward and he meets your eyes in the mirror. "What did I do to deserve this sweet, perfect cunt?"
You clench your fingers against the bedsheets, swaying on all-fours. Loki slips his cock from your pussy and slides it against your throbbing clit, still swollen and humming from the worship of his mouth.
He watches with dark fascination as you start to squirm at the halt of his movements, knuckles whitening. “Well?” he asks again with playful menace.
"I'm just made for you I guess," you sigh as his large palm skates down the ridges of your spine, settling at the base. There’s no getting any sense out of you at times like this; he should know that by now. And he does.
"You are,” he growls approvingly, rubbing the curve of your ass. “Made to take me like a Queen. Made to take my cock like a Queen; made to fuck me like a Queen.” Queen.
The word sends a thrill down your spine that blossoms new fire in your pussy and you clench tighter around the tip of his cock. Loki pushes back in just when you’re tightest. “Norns,” he gasps, half-lidded eyes smouldering down from his station.
There’s something about when he fucks you from behind that’s utterly primal. Like he’s mating you. Like you’re a bitch in heat and he’s powerless to resist the scent he craves; the urge beating through him like the drums of war.
He’s not a god in moments like this. He’s just a man that wants to shake you up and fuck you out and love you harder with every filthy, curse-laden groan from his throat. “Talk to me,” you plead as you sit back against him, inhaling the fresh sweat clinging to his hair, his cock never leaving the grip of your cunt. Where he belongs. Your fingers skate up his cheek. His heartbeat thumps between your shoulder-blades, the flat planes of his chest and stomach pressed tight to your back. Your thighs spread as he readjusts on the mattress, guiding you down to the root of him with a rumble of pleasure. Loki moves hair from one side of your neck, placing a messy kiss on the curve and pulling the flimsy strap of your lingerie between his teeth. It stings your heated skin with a tight thwack.
“You love when I talk,” he goads low and filthy in your ear. “You love when I talk, and you love when I fuck.” “Only me,” you whine. Loki chuckles darkly. “Only you, my Queen.” His thrusts make your body rise and you lose yourself in the fullness of your walls fluttering to the rhythmic lilt of his hips. Loki’s hands massage your breasts, palming upwards, pinching your pebbled nipples as he does it. “No one,” he groans as you reach between your legs and graze his balls, “no one has ever carnally eviscerated me like you can.” They tighten beneath your gentle touch, drawing lazily against the velvet skin.
“When I fuck you… all realms cease to be,' he chokes, 'Only b-burning worlds and…f-fuck, erupting galaxies when I…”
He jolts against your ass, a hiss searing between his teeth. “When I see you trussed up for me like a gift,” he pants, tugging at the flimsy lace cupping your breasts, “when I feel your pussy grip me like wax on a finger.” A wet groan erupts from your mouth into his and Loki’s fingers move to your clit, rubbing slow, wet circles just the way you like it. His kiss is hungry and dark and dangerously loving. He still tastes like your cum. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he mutters as climax tightens in your belly, tensing your thighs, “is your face when you come undone for me.” You whimper, the hand wrapped around his neck clutching at long waves of his sex-damp hair. “Yes, my beautiful queen,” he praises, unable to keep the tremble of impending orgasm from his voice as his thrusts become heavy. “Take me, use me; use my cock like no other in the nine realms can. Give me what I need.” “Not yet,” you beg and he smiles against your cheek. The mirror shows what the two of you are: sweaty and unbearably perfect together. He’s huge behind you; a colossus of muscle and lean lines and luminous skin. His dark hair hangs against your shoulders, his exquisite profile nuzzling into your neck. The god of mischief works one expert hand between your legs, the other grasping against your chest like you might vanish as his powerful thighs pump slowly beneath you. Obsessed. He’s obsessed. Another threat of orgasm rises in your centre. Loki groans loudly and his shoulders tense as you clench, feeling the thick vein running down his length throb. “I think you may take me a little too well,” he chokes as your grip on his hair tightens.
A series of feral grunts burst from Loki’s throat at the smallest increase of speed against his cock. He's ready to burst. Wetness coats the inside of your thighs, his knuckles, his mouth, your fingers. You cover the hand working against your clit, feeling his fingers while they lightly strum you over the edge. He knows your body like it's his own. “Loki,” you moan like a whore, head falling back to his shoulder.   “I’m yours,” he whispers, breath catching. The hand cupping your chest flies to your stomach and he pulls you closer with a stuttering gasp. The flat of his abdomen curls to your back: sweat sticking, curses thundering, stars bursting in front of your eyes. He erupts with a long, guttural groan that shakes the bed. The swell of his cum is immediate; squeezing against the tight throb of his mighty cock and the final, fluttering spasms of your cunt. You see it glistening in the mirror, dripping down the thick root still buried inside you and pearling at the curve of his balls. Loki’s mouth fastens to your cheek like he’s trying to eat you - and maybe he is. His pants are hot against the skin as he slides down your face, top lip dragging before his forehead comes to rest. “What did I do to deserve…?” he pants quietly as he feathers weak kisses along the angle of your jaw. You silence the impending question with a kiss, pulling him closer. “I’m your Queen,” you say with utterly feigned humility. Loki bites his lip, glancing to the mirror. His eyes drop to the sight of him still sheathed deep in your pussy, a thick spindle of cum dangling to the mattress. “You are,” he whispers lovingly in your ear, eyes nailed to yours in the reflection. "Always."
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♥️x
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cleo-fox · 4 months ago
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Safehouse
Summary: This mission wasn't supposed to go as badly as it has. There wasn't supposed to be a blizzard, you weren't supposed to get snowed in at a remote cabin, and there certainly was supposed to be more than one bed. And none of this would be a problem were it not for your completely irrational, ill-advised crush on Loki.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, p in v sex, fingering, workplace crushes, There Was Only One Bed.
A/N: I didn't think this was going to be the next fic I posted, but this has been 95% finished for over a year and I just figured out the final 5% in the last 72 hours. Don't ask me how my brain works because I truly don't know sometimes. Also, perhaps after you read this, you will think "hey, I would like to read another fic that involves railing Loki in the middle of a blizzard." Well, my friend, then you should read Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark by the great @loki-cees-all because not only is there a blizzard and one bed, it is also beautifully written.
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You didn’t expect this mission to go as badly as it has.
It was supposed to be quick, one of those tidy in and out things that almost feels routine—or at least as routine as things ever get in this line of work.
No one counted on a fucking blizzard, though.
It comes upon you suddenly enough to feel suspicious—one moment, it’s slate grey skies and barely a puff of wind and the next thing you know, the wind is howling and whipping at your coat and you can barely see three feet ahead of you.
“What the fuck is this?” you shout at Loki, who looks just as perplexed as you feel. “I thought you said the radar was clear.”
“It was,” he says, frowning. He taps at the screen of the device, an overly complicated piece of tech that you’d delegated to him because Tony’s brief training sessions had made your eyes glaze over. Still, though, you know enough to tell that you’re looking at a weather map and there’s absolutely no sign of the storm that’s howling around you.
An uneasy feeling is bubbling in the pit of your stomach and prickling up the back of your neck. Everything about this feels wrong.
“We need to find shelter,” says Loki. You know him well enough to tell that he’s pretending to be really calm and unbothered because he doesn’t want you to know that something’s wrong. Normally, you’d call him out on that bullshit, but the creepy crawly feeling running up your spine coupled with the storm that doesn’t seem to exist has you itching to get inside as soon as possible.
“There’s a safehouse just west of this hill,” he continues, tapping at the screen.
“Let’s go, then.”
The trek to the safehouse is fairly demanding, even though the distance is short. You’re walking straight into the wind, which seems to grow stronger and more biting by the minute. The snow under your feet grows slick with ice and your pace slows to a crawl, though even that doesn’t stop you from slipping.
The safehouse turns out to be an unassuming cabin that’s a little too shabby to be rustic; in the biting wind and dim light of the storm, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You make it to the door and a few minutes later, you’re inside. 
The cabin has been unoccupied long enough to put a light layer of dust on some of the furniture, but not enough to render anything musty or moth-ridden. It is charming in a way that you don’t normally see with S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouses—handcrafted furniture that’s a little rough around the edges, pine board floors, a squat wood burning stove in the center of the room that makes you want to curl up and read a book. It’s…homey and maybe even comfortable, two qualities that S.H.I.E.L.D. is decidedly not known for. It’s a welcome surprise, given how this mission has gone so far.
Loki bolts the door the moment you’re both inside and quickly turns his attention to the windows. 
“I’m putting up wards,” he says. There’s a grim set to his jaw that you don’t particularly like, largely because you only see it when something is wrong.
The back of your neck prickles.
The wood burning stove is not merely decorative—it’s the cabin’s only heat source. There are a few places that are intended to blend in no matter what—you suspect this is one of them. You manage to get a fire going and you settle yourself in front of it while Loki works. You know enough to not interrupt him, even though you feel like you’re about to bubble over with questions.
It takes him a while to finish warding all the windows and you notice he shuts the curtains for each one once he’s finished, which sends another chill up your spine. When he finally joins you by the fire, he looks a little tired.
“So, I take it you can’t just magic that storm away or something,” you say, with a casual sort of tone that sounds strained even to you.
“It doesn’t work like that,” he says, which you sort of expected. The set of his jaw is still tight. “And even if it did, this isn’t an ordinary storm. Someone is doing this.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that impression.” You pause, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. “Any idea who?”
He shakes his head. “Someone very ancient. Angry.”
You exhale. “Great. Do I want to know what the deal is with the curtains?”
“We should not look outside after the sun sets.”
The skin on the back of your neck prickles. “Why?”
There’s a reason that they call Loki “Silvertongue:” he is a compelling, eloquent speaker. And the somewhat irritating part is that he can do this extemporaneously and effortlessly—he doesn’t need to think about it at all.
So the fact that he pauses for a moment to think scares you a lot. His gaze drifts to the fire, quiet and thoughtful, as though he might find his answers written in the embers.
“Imagine every ghost story you heard as a child coming true,” he says finally.
You don’t like how spare he is on the details, but an icy chill works its way up your spine and you get the eerie sense that someone is listening. Suddenly, you don’t feel like asking any more questions.
“Okay,” you say softly.
*
Being in close quarters with Loki is…something.
There was a time early on, back when you first started working together when you thought something could maybe happen between the two of you. It was hard not to—Loki is attractive, certainly, but he has a particular magnetic quality that can make a stadium full of people think that he’s talking just to them (incidentally, this is also one of the qualities that gets red flags and warnings added to his file at S.H.I.E.L.D.) When you experience that up close, well…it’s intense, to say the least. It becomes easy to believe that his smiles mean something more, that he sees something intriguing in you.
Your feelings for Loki aren’t exactly a crush, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Crushes are silly infatuations that make people do incredibly stupid things and entertain incredibly stupid hopes. You are a professional with a good head on your shoulders: you know better. You’re attracted to him, but it doesn’t matter because nothing is going to happen.
Perhaps more importantly: Loki is a god and you are not. You have a good relationship—your banter comes easily and he seems to enjoy talking to you more than he likes talking to the average person—but it’s strictly professional and that’s all it ever will be. The fact that you’ve been working closely together for three years without a hint of anything romantic only confirms your theory. He’s your colleague, nothing more.
Except…being trapped in a small cabin with him is dredging up a whole swarm of feelings that you would have sworn you had gotten over.
And the storm is showing no signs of stopping.
And there’s only one bed.
It’s a fucking cliché, the kind of thing you’d roll your eyes at if you saw it in a movie or read it in a book, but you’re a professional and you’re also not sleeping on the floor. Besides, you’ve both got sleeping bags and it’s a double bed—it’s not like you’ve got to curl up together or anything.
Not that you’d complain if you had to.
Which, again, is another feeling you thought you were over.
The wood burning stove is doing its best to keep up, but it’s still no match for the storm outside, even though Loki’s done something to the logs to keep them regenerating as they burn. You dig out an extra pair of woolen socks from your pack and pull on your fleece over your sweater and long sleeved thermal. You pile your coat on top of your sleeping bag, along with your share of the scratchy wool blankets you’d pulled out of the cedar chest by the foot of the bed.
Loki watches you with the lightly amused look that always feels like he must be quietly making fun of you.
“What?” you say as you settle yourself under the blankets. “Some of us are delicate mortals who find the cold a little uncomfortable.”
“I said absolutely nothing,” he says, though the glimmer in his eyes undercuts his point.
“You were thinking it.”
“Oh, the things I think of would turn your head, darling.”
You know that there’s no innuendo specific to you in that statement, but your body reacts like there is: your heart and stomach do a complicated series of flips that would put trapeze artists to shame and a heavy, familiar heat stirs hopefully in your hips. Outwardly, you roll your eyes at him and focus on arranging the blankets over your legs. 
“I’m well aware that your mind is a kaleidoscope of horrors,” you say. 
“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s horrors so much as—”
You recognize that look in his eye: it is the herald of something wildly inappropriate. And while you’re no prude, the reality is that you’re about to share a bed with him and you will have no outlet for whatever feelings of lust this will inevitably provoke. Time to change the subject to something as far away from sex as possible, which happens to be whatever creepy fuckery is happening outside. 
“Speaking of horrors: why are you being so cagey about what’s going on out there?” you say.
You almost feel a little guilty as the teasing expression disappears from his face and settles into something grimmer. “It’s safer this way,” he says as he sets about preparing his own sleeping bag and blankets.
“That doesn’t really answer my question,” you say.
“I know.”
It occurs to you that this is a perfect example of the cryptic bullshit that makes his intentions so hard to read. Is he saying this because he cares about you? Is he trying to prevent problems down the road? All of the above or something else entirely? Nobody fucking knows, least of all you.
You scowl at him and he looks completely unbothered, which is typical.
“I hate it when you do this, you know,” you say.
There’s a slight twitch to his lips that could be a hint of a smile and you’re embarrassed by how giddy that makes you feel. 
“I know,” he says.
“It makes me feel like you don’t trust me or something.”
He stops what he’s doing and looks at you and his face is so honest and open that it makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Of course I trust you,” he says.
There’s something unsaid in his expression and you’re not quite sure what it is, but it leaves you with a warm glow in your chest.
“Okay,” you say softly.
For the briefest of moments, the difference between god and human doesn’t feel so impossibly vast.
But it’s only a moment.
*
You fall asleep quickly, even with Loki lying so close by that you could count his breaths if you wanted to.
You wake sometime in the middle of the night. The wind is still howling outside. Your mouth is dry and you fumble on the nightstand for your water bottle. Your fingers close around empty space and it occurs to you that you’d left it over by the fire.
You lie still, staring at the ceiling. The blankets have warmed up with your body heat and you’re not keen to brave the chill of the cabin. You could wake Loki up, maybe ask him to summon your water bottle to you. You nearly snort with laughter at the thought. That would go over well.
After a moment, you muster up all of your strength and willpower and haul yourself out of bed.
It’s not as bad as you thought it would be, in the end. You pad over to the fire and take a long drink from your water bottle, which turns out to be almost empty. You go to the little kitchen to refill it, idly listening to the wind howl outside.
You wonder if it’s still snowing, if the snow is piling up in drifts against the doors and windows, freezing you in. The thought of being stranded here with Loki is admittedly appealing.
Your brain is still a fuzzy from sleep and you’re a little distracted thinking about being snowed in with Loki and for just a moment, you forget what he said about not looking outside. You reach up to the kitchen window and push the fabric of the curtain aside to see how bad the snow is.
You’re not frightened at first because you only see shadows, but after a moment, you realize that the shadows are moving in an unnatural, broken sort of way, like someone had sculpted them into rough facsimiles of people and commanded them to walk, without really explaining what walking was.
Quite suddenly, they all turn and look at you. Or they would be looking at you if they had eyes. There is simply a void where their faces are, though somehow you can tell that their mouths are open, gaping and hungry, showing all of their teeth.
You feel something hook into the thread of your thoughts, tugging and pulling at your mind. The world tilts on its axis and there’s a sharp and white hot burning at the base of your skull that makes you cry out.
In the haze of pain, you think to yourself that it’s like they’re trying to take your soul and the shadows grin at you with too many teeth and a hissing, sibilant chorus of voices says, yes, we are hungry. So very hungry.
You know in that moment that they intend to kill you.
You are leaning closer to the window, your thoughts growing dark and murky as something saws away at the thing that tethers your soul to your body and there is so much pain and all of those horrible spindly hands and grinning mouths are reaching for you—
Someone is grabbing you around the waist and you scream because you think this must be the end, but instead, they’re pulling you away from the window and yanking the curtain closed and you realize it’s Loki.
There is a flash of green light and the connection between you and whatever is outside breaks abruptly and the pain retreats to a dull ache, like your body is carefully starting to repair those shredded, fraying threads that the shadows were tugging on. 
Loki’s eyes are wild and he looks at you like he half expects you to disintegrate or melt into the shadows. You are suddenly shaking so badly that your legs start to buckle.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say through chattering teeth. The cold you feel is bone deep and unnatural. “F-f-forgot.”
“Foolish girl.” He says it without malice, almost with affection, though his face is drawn tight with something like worry. Your legs are about to fail you, but he’s right there before they can, scooping you up into his arms like it’s nothing.
You snuggle up against his chest almost automatically, your body instinctively seeking out heat. “S-s-s-sorry, c-c-c-cold,” you manage to squeak out.
“I know,” he says and it almost sounds gentle. He is carrying you across the room and climbing back into bed with you in his arms, drawing the pile of blankets and sleeping bags over the two of you. 
The wind howls and you shudder, realizing for perhaps the first time that it may not be the wind making those noises. Loki stiffens, his grip on you tightening. 
“Did you see their eyes?”
You shake your head.
You feel some of the tension leave him, though not all.
You have so many questions, but that unnatural, bone deep cold is making you sluggish and sleepy and your teeth are chattering so hard you wonder if you’d even be able to speak at all.
“You need to rest,” he says. The cold feels like the sort of thing that could easily claim you while you sleep and he must see that fear reflected in your eyes because his expression softens ever so slightly. “Rest. I’ll keep you safe.”
You don’t like how quickly that line melts you. You tell yourself that it’s only because you’re so cold and tired, but you know that’s not entirely true. 
You allow your head to drop to his chest and he readjusts his grip on you, smoothing one hand against your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. You try to catalog all of the different senses—the way he smells like snow and pine, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you—but sleep is pulling insistently at your eyelids and you find yourself struggling to stay awake.
“Rest,” he says, and this time it sounds like a command.
Your eyes slowly slide shut and sleep finally claims you.
It seems like you sleep for a long time. Your dreams are strange and unsettling and have an odd sort of veneer, like they’re real but not quite. 
The first time you wake up, it’s because of a nightmare. You are back at the window and the things outside are threading their fingers underneath the panes, reaching for you with their spindly hands, clacking their too sharp teeth. You don’t know where Loki is and you’re trying to back away as they reach for you, and one of them is wrapping its fingers around your wrist and you can see its eyes and—
You thrash out in your sleep and gentle hands are soothing you. You wake abruptly, shaking, blearily looking up at Loki’s face.
“They—they were coming for me,” you manage to sputter out.
“Shh.” Loki is stroking your back. “You’re safe. I won’t let them harm you.”
Your pounding heartbeat takes a moment to settle, but the gentle pressure of Loki’s hands on your back calms you slightly. There’s a tenderness in his actions that you don’t necessarily expect, but it also feels so right and natural that you wonder how you could have ever been surprised by it.
“What are they?” you ask.
“That’s an answer for daylight, love,” he says. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe.”
You want to protest and push for answers, but you’re so very tired and he’s smoothing your hair again and you can feel exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, ready to pull you back under.
“I’m holding you to that,” you manage to mumble at him. “I’m not going to forget.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Sleep, darling.”
You fall back under.
Your dreams are still wild and strange this time around. You wake again a few hours later, teeth chattering and tears streaming down your face. Loki wraps you even more tightly in his arms, drawing more blankets over the two of you, conjuring an additional pile of furs. You try to tell him to save his magic for the wards and the fire, but he hushes you and mutters something about how that’s not exactly how it works, even though you’re pretty sure it is.
You sleep again.
You have a half memory of him quieting you and pressing his lips against your forehead, but you’re not quite sure if it’s real or wishful thinking.
When you wake again, it’s still dark and the wind is still howling. The cold has retreated somewhat—it’s not as sharp, not as biting, but you still need the warmth of the blankets and Loki’s arms to keep it at bay.
You’re a bit more clearheaded now, so there’s part of you that feels a little embarrassed about what happened. It was a stupid mistake. Rookie level. You know better.
“Are you awake?” Loki’s voice rumbles pleasantly against your ear.
“Sort of.” You hope he continues holding you. You’re not quite ready to give up his warmth or his arms just yet.
“How is one ‘sort of’ awake? Either you aren’t or you are,” he says.
“I’m very talented,” you say. It’s not particularly funny, but he humors you with a soft laugh, more exhalation than anything else.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Still cold,” you say. While it is true, you’re also secretly hoping that the more you emphasize this, the more likely he is to continue holding you. “It’s better than it was, but it’s still bad.”
As if to prove a point, a shudder works its way through you. Loki shifts, rolling over so his body covers yours, pulling the blankets up so they cover your shoulders. It helps, but there’s now a degree of intimacy there that makes your heart stumble in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but with his green eyes bright above you, you can’t help but hope he does.
Leave it to him to ruin the moment.
“That was very foolish of you,” he says, his expression becoming serious and his voice taking on that hard edge that you only hear when he’s trying to pick a fight.
You exhale sharply. “Are you seriously trying to do this right now? I told you it was an accident. I was half asleep.”
“I’m not fond of close calls,” he says tightly.
“Oh bullshit,” you snap. “You fucking love chaos, don’t tell—”
“It’s not chaos, it was foolish and dangerous—”
“For fuck’s sake, do you think I’m not aware of that? I’m not—”
“You could have died.” He’s not yelling, but he’s raising his voice and there’s an unexpectedly strained quality to his tone that you don’t know what to do with. “It’s not chaos, it’s not an accident, it’s—”
For a moment, he seems like he might be at a loss for words, and for some reason, this enrages you.
“It’s what, Loki?” you say with more venom than you intend. “Please enlighten me, since you’re such a fucking expert.”
You’re not quite sure what line you’ve crossed, but you think it must be an important one based on how angry he looks.
“You truly are infuriating,” he says. “You nearly get yourself killed and you have the audacity to speak that way to me after I save your life!?”
And before you can say a word, he brings his mouth down on yours in a bruising kiss.
His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though you’re still a little mad at him and he’s maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.
“Do not scare me like that ever again,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you in between words, each pause punctuated by the soft caress of his lips, the silky warmth of his tongue. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”
You are astonished and somewhat perplexed. “I…I didn’t even know that you…that you wanted this—“
“Darling, I have thought of little else.”
His mouth covers yours again and you are drowning in the feeling of him. The cold that has settled in your bones is melting like snow in springtime. You move your hands along his shoulders, tentative at first, then a little braver. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it is. He deepens the kiss, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbones. 
It’s dizzingly good and you want more. You need more. You arch against him in a clear invitation, reveling in how perfectly his body fits against yours. He sighs and presses back against you briefly before pulling away.
“You should rest,” he says, his voice slightly strained. “You experienced some very powerful magic—I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“I won’t,” you say, tugging him back down to you. He allows this for a moment, his hands cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss with toe curling intensity.
And then he draws back.
“You really do need to rest,” he says.
You shake your head. “I need you, Loki.”
His lips and tongue are just as insistent as yours when you pull him back into a kiss. You can feel him growing hard against your thigh and when you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him, he groans and nips at your lip before withdrawing again.
“Darling,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself back.
“I can stay on my back,” you say.
“Appealing as that is, you’re rather ignoring my point.”
“And you’re ignoring mine,” you say, rolling your hips again. His eyes close for a moment as he presses back against you, his hand sliding along your thigh. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down into a kiss that he returns without protest.
You catch his lower lip between your teeth and he sucks in a deep breath as he grinds his hips against you.
“Please,” you breathe. “I need you so bad.”
He groans as he lowers his head to the column of your throat. “I’m trying to keep you safe and you’re tempting me like this.”
“Touch me and tell me I need to rest more than I need you.”
It’s a bold thing to say and your heart pounds with anticipation as you feel him nip at your collarbone. His hand pauses at your hip, so close to where you need him. You wait a moment and then take his hand in yours and guide it underneath your waistband and between your legs. He lifts his head, gaze snapping to yours and the moment that his fingers graze your slickness, you know that you’ve won.
“Oh, you’re dripping,” he says, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening with lust as his fingers swipe across your clit.
You’re tempted to tell him that you told him so, but this still feels so fragile and tenuous that you settle for a more flattering truth: “Loki, I need you.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He shifts on top of you so that you feel the hard press of his cock against your hip.
“Same thing that you’re doing to me,” you say. “Which is why I need you to fuck me.”
He sighs, but his fingers don’t stop moving. “You really ought to rest.”
“I can stay on my back,” you say. “You can take me really slowly and gently. Think about how good that will feel.”
“Darling,” he says. You can see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and you know that you’ve almost won. You feel your orgasm starting to coil like a snake in your belly and you moan, rocking your hips with his hand.
“Loki.” You lick your lips. “Don’t you want to feel me come on your cock?”
You know the exact moment he gives in—you see it in his eyes. Less than a second later, he’s sliding one long finger inside of you and curling it just right.
“Not before I finish what I started.” His voice is a low growl.
“Yes,” you breathe, letting your head tip back against the pillow. “God, that feels so good.”
“I can feel you trembling,” he says, his voice rough. “Are you going to come for me already? I’ve barely touched you.”
“I told you: I need you,” you say.
He raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening in a very attractive way. “You’re not getting pert with me, are you?”
There’s a particular tone to his voice, a sternness that makes you shiver. Something to explore later, perhaps—right now, you need him too badly to play games.
“No, just trying to emphasize that I need you.”
“Are you really that desperate for me? Do you really need me that much? Surely you could touch yourself, surely you don’t need me that badly.”
You know that he’s saying that to amp you up, to tease you. But you are also so desperate to come that the idea of not having him is beyond comprehension.
“I do,” you say, a bit of desperate note making its way into your voice. “I need you, Loki, I need to come for you, need you to fuck me, please don’t make me wait, please, please, please—”
He stops your mouth with a kiss as he eases a second finger inside of you. “I’m going to take care of you, sweet thing,” he says as you gasp at the stretch. 
His fingers are curling inside of you, his thumb working your clit in small, tight circles that are pushing you closer and closer to the edge as a fantastic pressure builds inside of you.
“Oh, that’s it.” His eyes are dark, pupils wide and lust-blown. “I can feel how close you are.” He brings his lips to your ear. “Come for me and then I’ll fuck you properly.”
Your breath hitches as you reach your peak. “Oh god—I—fuck, I’m coming, I’m—”
Your voice cuts out as you come, pure pleasure blooming low in your hips, your back arching against the mattress as Loki works you through it, murmuring soft encouragement as he watches you shake in his arms.
“You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Utterly stunning.”
You fumble for the waistband of his pants, your fingers slipping over the fastenings. “I need you,” you say, tugging at the fabric.
His mouth curls into a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Are you quite certain?”
Leather yields to warm skin and you slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He inhales sharply as you stroke him, his eyes turning dark.
“You’re presenting a very compelling argument,” he says.
“Think about how good you’ll feel inside of me,” you say, gently increasing the pressure on his shaft as you move your hand.
“Norns, woman.” But he’s rolling on top of you as he says this and sliding his pants off his hips. He pauses briefly to divest you of your pants and underwear. A shiver works through you during the brief moment when your bare skin is exposed to the chill of the room…and he notices right away, hesitating slightly as his brow furrows in concern.
“Don't you dare stop,” you say. “I don’t care if I get hypothermia and die, I will straight up implode if you don’t fuck me right now.”
He chuckles, pulling more blankets around the two of you as he settles himself between your thighs. “Are you always so demanding?”
“Look, you’ve been teasing me for the last twenty minutes and you’ve been strutting around in those fucking leather pants for a lot longer, so forgive me if I’m a little impatient.”
He pauses above you, his expression deadly serious. “Let's get one thing quite clear, my love: I do not strut.”
There’s a glimmer in his eyes and you smirk back at him. “You totally do.”
He lines up the tip of his cock with your entrance. “I walk with the gravitas and stature appropriate to my station.”
“You strut and I know you strut because it’s extremely distracting.”
His smile is sly. “Tell me more about how I distract you.”
“You make me think about doing this with you.”
The tip of his cock eases into you. “Do I? How often, would you say?”
“All the time.”
He sinks in another inch. “All the time?”
“Mmmhm.”
One more inch. “That does sound terribly distracting.”
“You’re still trying to tease me,” you say and he grins and gives you another inch.
“You wouldn’t want me as much if I didn’t.”
“I’d want you always, no matter what.”
His gaze turns serious and he leans into kiss you, his hands stroking your cheek as he sinks into you fully, all the way to the hilt. You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him even closer. He’s still for a moment, his eyes shut.
He opens them.
“I’ve waited so long to have you,” he murmurs.
“You have me,” you say. “You always have.”
He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, slow as honey, sweetness in every thrust of his hips or touch of his lips. He fills you in a way that you’ve never experienced, his cock bumping up against that tender place inside you, making you gasp and pull him deeper. 
It builds slowly and steadily, the muscles of your cunt tightening as he takes you higher. You shudder as your climax builds.
“That’s it, my love,” he breathes. “That’s it.”
You inhale sharply, your orgasm swelling within you, rising, about to pull you under. You ride that wave, your hips rocking with his. You try and hold on for as long as you can because he feels so good and you don’t want it to end, but eventually, it becomes too much.
You keen and he kisses you. “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you come.”
Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and all your muscles tense and release as you come. Loki sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowing.
“Fuck.” His pace increases slightly. “You’re divine.”
Less than a second later, he’s also unraveling, his expression of ecstasy particularly beautiful in the flickering firelight. Even in the hazy afterglow of your own pleasure, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly spellbound.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you deeply and slows to a halt, his cock still throbbing inside of you.
“I don’t want to say I told you so—” you start.
“That’s a lie.” His reply is prompt and accompanied by another deep kiss.
You smile against his lips. “Okay, maybe I did want to say I told you so.”
“Better.”
You feel pleasantly loose and sleepy, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. He seems to notice your fatigue and raises an eyebrow. “Is this the part where I say I told you so?” he asks as he slowly eases out of you.
“Mmm, but it was so worth it,” you say. “So I’m basically right.”
“That’s not how that works,” he says.
“I’m not listening to you,” you say. “I need to recover my strength.”
“Now you’re just being pert.” He shifts to his side and draws you close so he’s spooned up against your back.
“You like it,” you say, barely stifling a yawn.
“Mmm, I do,” he says, drawing the pile of blankets back over you both. “Are you warm enough?”
“Yeah, but don’t go anywhere.”
You feel him smile as he presses a kiss against the back of your neck. “I don’t intend to.”
“Good.”
You both fall asleep like this, wrapped around each other, warm and safe from the storm outside.
3K notes · View notes
jiyascepter · 10 months ago
Text
Caught You | 18+ Only
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MASTERLIST
Pairing: Loki x F!reader
Words: 4012
Warnings/Content: SMUT; Avenger! Loki & Avenger! Y/n, Themes of dub-con, dark-ish Loki??, dom!Loki, pervy!Loki, possessive, jealous loki, use of loki's magic (in a lot of sexual stuff), restraints, bondage, biting, licking, aggressive, pissed loki, praise, slight degradation, there's a tattoo on y/n's thigh (for the plot!), other mcu characters also make an appearance, clit licking, fingering, overstimulation, p in v.
Please lmk if I missed anything! Loki is a bit of red-flaggy in this one, please keep in mind this is only a fanfiction.
Summary: When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?
A/n: i moved the title in the corner so that i can keep seeing tommys's sexy face in the middle 😮‍💨 im trying to make my fics dirtier but it's not quite coming down in my works, like it's in my mind but it's not easy to express??? im trying & hopefully it'll come soon
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The cavernous, dimly-lit warehouse echoed with the sounds of clashing metal and grunts of exertion. The Avengers were locked in combat with a band of mercenaries armed with advanced weaponry.
Tony was in the air, repulsor beams lighting up the darkness, while Natasha and Clint worked in tandem, their movements precise and deadly. Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, was a blur as it struck down the enemies with thunderous force.
In the midst of the chaos, Loki stood with an air of detached amusement, casting spells with flicks of his wrists. His magic sent mercenaries flying, created illusions to confuse their ranks, and conjured barriers to protect the teammates. But Loki's magic, powerful and unpredictable, was also a bit reckless tonight.
Maybe it was the leather suit you were wearing today.
"Loki, for the love of—watch where you're aiming!" You shouted as you narrowly avoided being hit by a stray spell meant for an enemy.
Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you shot him a glare. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"
Loki smirked, eyeing you up, not taking you seriously. "Perhaps if you were more attentive, you wouldn't find yourself in such precarious positions, darling."
You scowled and ducked under a swipe from a mercenary, retaliating with a swift punch that sent your opponent sprawling.
Ugh, you hated how he always carried that stupid smirk.
"Maybe if your magic was actually useful, we wouldn't be in precarious positions to begin with!"
Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of irritation flashing through his otherwise calm demeanor. "Is that so? I seem to recall saving you from a similar predicament just last week."
"By causing it in the first place!" You shot back, dodging another mercenary's attack and taking him down with a well-placed kick. 
Loki rolls his eyes and runs in the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured an illusion, making a group of mercenaries see each other as Avengers.
Confused, they turned on one another, giving the team a moment of respite. But the spell was too potent, and soon the illusion spread, affecting even the teammates. 
Chaos erupted as friends and foes became indistinguishable. 
"What the—" Tony exclaimed while flying over the scene. 
"Damn it, Loki!" You screamed, ducking, as Natasha took a swing at you, mistaking you for an enemy.
"Enough!" Thor bellowed, his hammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet and dispelled the illusion.
The mercenaries, now disoriented, were quickly subdued.
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The flight back home was quiet. Everyone was either tired, tending to their wounds, or just rethinking what happened back there. 
Once you landed, the rest of the Avengers stepped down the Quinjet and walked into the building to their rooms. 
"Loki, wait." Steve calls out and walks towards Loki in the lobby.
“About today—”
“Nobody died, Rogers.” Loki replies. 
"That is not an achievement," You murmur to yourself loudly on purpose for him to hear while taking a sip from your favourite grey-coloured sipper. 
Loki and Steve both glanced at you, with Steve carrying a hint of a smile on his face while Loki scowled and turned back to Steve.
You could tell he was not impressed. 
A win for you.
Steve clears his throat, turning serious once more. "Look, what happened today was not good. We cannot work as a team if we don't know half of your tricks."
Loki grins. "Well, that's the fun, isn't it? A surprise for everyone.”
Steve raises his eyebrows. "But it isn’t helping, Lo-"
"Helping? His magic is useless half the time."
Loki shoots an eye at you when you say that, and you could tell the God wasn't pleased.
"He's showing off in front of everyone, like the arrogant ass he is." You go on, while Loki watches you with his grave, sharp eyes.
Why wasn't he replying with his usual snarky comments today? 
Steve gives a light chuckle and pats Loki's shoulder as if feeling sorry for him, "Be careful next time, that's all I ask," and walks away through the corridor, leaving you and Loki to yourselves.
While waiting for the elevator, you silently stand in front of the doors, waiting for it to arrive.
Until you feel a hard pressure against your back.
The sensation is unmistakable—a solid, unyielding presence, warm and firm. Loki's chest. His closeness sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and subtle heat radiating through his clothes.
You stiffen, unsure whether to move away or stay still, the elevator's arrival feeling like an eternity away.
You decide to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Ego broken, Loki~?" You say his name in a sing-song voice.
"Do you enjoy testing my patience, mortal?" he says, leaning down to your ear.
"Someone has to keep you in check," you reply, your voice steady despite the proximity.
The elevator reaches your floor, and with a little chime, its doors open. You proceed to take a step forward to enter the elevator when his hand grabs hold of the back side of your neck and pulls you back to him.
"Careful," he almost whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, "your tongue is going to get you in trouble one day."
You pause for a moment, feeling the tension thicken in the air, before you turn your head out of his hands to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the big bad trickster's feelings?" You taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Maybe if your magic wasn't so unreliable, we wouldn't be in these messes. Or do you need Daddy Odin to give you some pointers on how to actually be useful?"
Loki's eyes flare with fury, and in no time he grabs your neck once again and strides into the elevator, pinning your head to the panels. His body pressed against yours with a force that left little room for doubt about his intensity.
His frame, tall and lean yet undeniably strong, exerting a commanding presence as he pins you against the cool metal of the elevator wall. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the chill of the metal against your cheek. 
He was so close to you, you could smell his sultry, intoxicating smell on him.
"You think my magic is useless, don’t you..." He whispers, his breath ghosting on your skin. "I’ll make sure you regret saying that."
"I don't "think", it's a fact." You try to push him back with your elbow. “Let me go, Loki.” You say it firmly. 
"Not yet, vixen." He says so, and the elevator doors shut by themselves. And with one flick of his fingers, the front chain of your tight leather suit yanked open down to the end of your belly.
Did he just–
"I’ll make sure to demonstrate how useful my magic can be." He says and looks down to notice you were not even wearing a bra underneath.
He grins at the sight, licking his lower lip. "Naughty girl." He coos in your ear while his fingers work their way to your belly. 
His fingers, though possessing a hint of coldness at first, quickly warmed against your skin as they made contact with your belly. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire that danced just beneath the surface. 
"Let. Me. Go." You say, trying to stand your ground, but your attempts are futile. 
"Told you no, darling." He says while his fingers trailed up to your nipples, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rose in their wake.
It was a sensation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by the raw intensity of his touch. 
He slides down your suit from your shoulders, proceeding with a graze of his tongue on your skin. 
"Mmm…sweet," he murmurs, sucking on your shoulder, "unlike those words you use."
"FUCK. YOU." You reply with a gruff.
Loki chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you will," he murmurs, his voice dripping with seductive menace. "But not before I teach you to respect a God."
He pulls down your suit lower, his lips kissing the back of your neck, followed by melty little kisses down your bareback. Despite your discontent, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by him.
As Loki pushes down your suit to your thighs, his eyes catch sight of a small tattoo etched on the inside of your thigh. The ink reads the name of your ex-boyfriend. Loki's eyes darken with a mix of curiosity and possessiveness. 
He paused, his brows furrowing as he read the name inked there. "Well, well, well," he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and disdain. "So that’s what your little skirt was hinting at the meeting a few days ago..."
He traced the tattoo lightly with his finger, sending a shiver through your body.
So this bastard was always watching you?
You grit your teeth, anger and embarrassment flushing through you. "It’s none of your business, Loki."
He tightens his grip on your neck slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his dominance. "I know."
"But this mark... it irks me. An insignificant mortal claiming a part of you." He pinches your thigh, and you try to jerk away your leg but cannot. 
You squirmed against his grip, but he held you firmly, his eyes dark and intense as they bore into yours. "Let it go, Loki," you demanded, trying to maintain your composure.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the tattoo. "Why should I?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr. "Why should I let some forgotten lover's mark go unchallenged?"
He gives you a rather harsh bite on your shoulder, trailing his lips to kiss your neck, which makes you whimper, which makes him grin.
He pulls away a bit, and with the flick of his wrists, an invisible force pins your arms above your head, securing you in place against the elevator wall. You struggle briefly, but the bonds hold firm. Loki steps back, his eyes raking over your exposed form with a predatory gaze.
Before you could retort, he bent down, turning his body against the elevator and facing you from below. He kissed the tattoo with deliberate slowness, his lips soft and maddeningly sensual.
The act was both possessive and teasing, with his tongue swirling repeatedly on the same spot that was making you crazy. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and a part of you hated how your body responded to his touch. 
"Shh, people can still hear us, darling. Even if they cannot enter." He says placing pecks up and down your thigh, evaporating your steady facade away.
"Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down and exposing you completely.
You saw his eyes almost sparkle at the sight, placing a kiss on your mound, making you flinch against the metal. Where and when did your suit disappear? You didn’t know.
He leans close and starts exploring your already wet clit with his tongue. Holding your waist in his hands, he kept stealing glances up at your aroused form, watching your expressions while you gasped every time his warm tongue darted on your needy pussy.
The god had a talent for his tongue. The silver tongue. 
"Are you still with him?" He murmured, pulling away his face from your pussy, making you let out a complaining whine.
He holds up his two fingers to caress your folds. "Answer."
"N-no…" You answer, your voice quivering in pleasure.
"Then why isn’t it off?" He says this, glancing at your tattoo.
"I never…Loki-"
He pushes two fingers in. "You never what?"
You shudder as Loki's fingers push inside you, his question hanging in the air, demanding an answer. Your mind races, caught between the intense pleasure and the need to explain yourself.
"I never... had the chance," you manage to gasp, your voice barely steady. "It didn't mean anything anymore. I just...fuck-forgot about it."
Loki's eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face, his fingers moving slowly inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes coherent thoughts nearly impossible. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.
"Forgot about it?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Or perhaps you wanted a reminder of something you couldn't let go?" 
"No…" You moan, writhing against the panel with your hands above your head, your fingers aching to dive into his hair. 
He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirm, your faint moans echoing the elevator.
"Good," he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. "Because I don't share, darling. And I don't like to be reminded of what once was."
You moan, your body arching against his touch. His words send a thrill through you, and the possessiveness in his tone both intimidating and exhilarating.
"You know I can just turn you into a pretty mannequin for me so I can do whatever I want with you…but I want to feel you squirm... to mewl... like a little prey." He says watching your face while feeling your pussy start to clench around his fingers.
"Now, let's make sure you never forget who you belong to, hm?" Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. His mouth returns to your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless intensity that drives you wild. 
"Yeah, that’s right, just keep on making those little sounds for me." He says it with a satisfied smile curling on his lips, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor. 
The combination of his fingers inside you and his mouth on your clit sends you spiralling into a mind-shattering orgasm, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out his name.
As the waves of ecstasy subside, Loki slowly withdraws his fingers. He stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He releases your binds away and turns you to him, and his thumb caresses your lower lip as if studying it for a second before he holds you against the wall, cupping your cheek, and kisses you almost fiercely. 
And gosh, you needed that. You needed that and more.
"Y/n, is that you?"
Both of you freeze to your seats when you hear Thor’s voice outside the elevator. 
Loki's eyes narrow in annoyance, and he quickly glances towards the elevator doors. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. "We wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"
He continues exploring your mouth, and the kisses start spreading to your neck, tongue, and teeth, making their wild appearances every once in a while. 
Until you couldn’t help it and let out a moan.
"This door is not openi- Y/n??" Thor repeats again. "Wait, let me call Stark.-" 
Your heart races when Thor calls out again because of your moan. Loki’s eyes narrow, and he pulls away. "Are you doing this on purpose? Just another one of your games so we can get caught and you can have your fun?"
He gives your pussy a little slap, and you whine a no. 
In a swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You barely have time to register the shift before the air around you shimmers and the familiar confines of the elevator vanish, replaced by the opulent and dimly lit interior of a room unknown to you.
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The room is a stark contrast to the sterile metal of the elevator. Rich tapestries line the walls, and candles flicker, casting a warm, golden glow. A large, ornate bed dominates the space, its dark, luxurious linens inviting in a way that makes your heart race. 
Loki wastes no time. He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed with an urgency that sends a thrill through you. He lays you down gently, his gaze intense as he takes in your still-naked form. His hands trace over your skin, as if committing every inch to memory. 
The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Loki—intoxicating and alluring. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, his fingers tracing a delicate line down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
You can barely catch your breath; the intensity of the moment overwhelming. "Loki, what if Thor—"
"Thor won't find us," Loki interrupts, his voice a low growl. "This is my domain. No one enters without my permission."
"Now," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "let us continue our little magic demonstration." 
The silken sheets cool against your heated skin, and with Loki's hands everywhere—caressing, teasing, exploring every inch of your body—his touch both gentle and demanding, leaving you breathless and craving more. 
"So beautiful," his voice dripping with seductive menace as he conjures a binding spell that secures your wrists to the bedposts. 
You gasp, your body arching against the restraints, as Loki's mouth finds your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples with maddening precision. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind is lost in a haze of pleasure and need. 
Loki's mouth moves with deliberate precision, his tongue tracing intricate patterns over your breasts. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch and writhe against the silken sheets. The restraints on your wrists keep you firmly in place.
"Loki…"
"Mhm," he hums, enjoying your squirms. But he wanted more.
He uses his powers to amplify his touch, making your nerve endings sing with heightened sensitivity. You gasp and moan, the intensity of his magic overwhelming your senses.
You can feel the magic pulsating through you, heightening your awareness of every touch and every kiss. His lips move from your breasts to the sensitive skin just below, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The combination of his mouth and his magic almost too much to bear.
His free hand trails down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. As his fingers reach your inner thighs, you feel a new surge of his magic, more potent and concentrated. It wraps around your thighs, making your muscles quiver with anticipation.
Loki conjures small, delicate tendrils of magic that wrap around your nipples, gently tugging and twisting. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath. 
He moves lower, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your belly. The tendrils of magic follow his path, amplifying every sensation, making you feel as if your skin is on fire. You can barely think or breathe; your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.
As he reaches your hips, his fingers part your folds, and you feel a rush of cool air against your wetness. His mouth hovers just above your clit, his breath hot and tantalizing. 
"Tell me, darling," Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot, "how does it feel to be at the mercy of a god?"
Before you can answer, his tongue flicks out, teasing your clit with delicate, precise strokes. His magic enhances every touch, making you moan and writhe against the restraints. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. 
"Loki I-" He sees your upcoming orgasm and pulls away quickly, enjoying your needy, complaining moan for him.
"Not so easy, darling."
And with another display of his magic, he completely gets rid of his clothes, his disrobed body turning you on even more, the heat of need between your legs almost unbearable.
He brings his already-hard cock near your lips. "Kiss it." and you do, the light hum of satisfaction he makes making you want to absolutely suck him out rather than just a little kiss.
"My filthy little vixen," he says, eyes blazing with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through you, "get ready for your god."
He lets out a low growl, a dark and seductive sound, before slowly pushing into you, his length stretching and filling you completely. The feeling is exquisite, with every inch of him sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"You feel so perfect," Loki murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Every part of you was made just for me."
He begins to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each motion designed to draw out the maximum pleasure to make you feel every inch of him. The binding spell keeps your wrists secured to the bedposts, preventing you from reaching out to touch him, to claw at his back as the pleasure intensifies.
Loki's eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable and electric. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts. You respond eagerly, your moans muffled against his lips, your body arching to meet his. 
His magic continues to amplify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive, every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you. The tendrils of magic around your nipples tighten and twist, adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
"Loki," you gasp, barely able to form coherent words. "I can't... it's too much..."
He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You can take it, darling. You will take it. You will take everything I give you."
His pace quickens, and his thrusts become more urgent and more demanding. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pleasure builds rapidly, creating a coiling heat in your belly that threatens to consume you entirely.
Loki's hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight, precise circles. The additional stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your impending orgasm.
"Come for me, darling," Loki commands, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for your god."
His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, the orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless and shaking. The pleasure is overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
Loki continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure, his own release imminent. His movements become erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own climax.
You can feel him throbbing inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he finally lets go, his own orgasm ripping through him.
With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his groan of pleasure vibrating through your body. He collapses on top of you, his weight comforting and grounding as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you.
For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Loki's hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelming pleasure. 
"Fuck, you drive me wild." He murmurs breathlessly. 
"Did you like that, darling?" Loki murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr. "My magic can do so much more." 
You breathlessly chuckle while he traces patterns on your skin. His fingers caress down to your thigh, where he glances at your tattoo.
"We can’t have that." He says in a low voice and grazes his hand over your skin, and the tattoo vanishes.  Loki’s touch lingers on your thigh where the tattoo once was, his magic leaving your skin smooth and unmarked.
"And now you’re mine."
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angelremnants · 2 months ago
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Girls’ Night Out, Loki’s Night In l L. Laufeyson
summary : Girls’ night was going great—until Loki decided to make it his personal mission to ruin it, being hellbent on pulling you home. It’s a battle of wills, but let’s face it: the God of Mischief always gets his way.
pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader
warnings : Mature (18+—MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT) Modern SMAU, established relationship, sexting, explicit sexual content, Loki being a horny little shit, flirting and teasing, strong language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.
author's notes : Listen, I don't know why I did this or where exactly I was going with this—I was supposed to start on another A Tales Of ficlet. But I wanted to try my hand at a SMAU for so long, so consider this a little crash test just to see if the format appeals or not.
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dividers ©️ @angelremnants + @cafekitsune .
angelremnants ©️ 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.
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societyfolklore · 28 days ago
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A Lesson in Restraint
Title: A Lesson in Restraint
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
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Summary:  Loki, ever the god of control, plays a tormenting game of pleasure and denial, keeping you on the edge of madness with teasing touches and cruel restraint.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Smut, Implied Sex, ‘Just the tip’  Edging & Denial, Mild Degradation & Teasing, Dominance & Submission Themes NO BETA
A/N: ‘just the tip’ – Loki (Will be covering others over the next few days)  because the idea wont let my mind go today..
Loki thrives on control-his own, and especially yours.
It’s the game he enjoys most, the delicious contrast of power and submission. You are completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, your body instinctively responding to every slow, measured roll of his hips as he just grinds against you. His smirk is a blade, sharp and knowing, as he whispers against your ear, his breath a sinful caress.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”
You whimper, the sound swallowed by his lips ghosting along your jaw, down the sensitive line of your throat. His hands roam, teasing, never giving enough. He brushes his fingers down your sides, lingering over the swell of your hips, as if contemplating how best to break you. When ever you try to move, to take more, his grip tightens, effortlessly pinning you in place. Never enough to give proper friction never letting you move your hips to catch the right angel. 
“Ah, ah,” Loki tsks, amusement laced in every syllable. “Patience, darling. Did you think I’d simply give you what you want?”
By now, you’re wrecked. He’s been at this for what feels like forever, coaxing you to the edge only to pull you back at the last second, leaving you raw, shivering, so painfully desperate that every inch of your body burns for him. Your skin is hypersensitive, every brush of his fingers sparking through you like a live wire. Your thighs are slick, your breathing ragged, and Loki-oh, Loki is savouring every second of your unravelling.
But this is only the culmination of a night spent under his careful hands. He’s had you pressed to every surface imaginable-against the cool wood of the table, bent over the arm of the couch, sprawled beneath him in bed-each time giving you just enough to wind you up, but never enough to break. He’s brought you to the edge with his tongue, with his fingers, with whispered promises that never quite became reality. Every time your release loomed, he pulled back, smirking at your desperation.
“Look at you,” he muses now, a dark pleasure in his voice. “So needy. So desperate. I could keep you like this forever.”
You feel sticky, coated in a thin layer of sweat, your hair damp and messy from how long he’s been tormenting you. Every inch of you is flushed, overheated, every nerve alert. The sheets beneath you cling to your skin, a testament to how thoroughly he’s worked you into this state. It only adds to your frustration, the overwhelming sensation of need pressing down on you from every direction.
His cock drags through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal, teasing you with every deliberate glide. The head of him nudges at your clit, sending a shudder ripping through you, but he never presses in, never gives you what you crave.
“Have you earned it, I wonder?” His voice is silk, threaded with wicked amusement. “Have you been good enough for me?”
The barest push of his cock inside you has you gasping, your fingers scrambling for purchase against his shoulders. Finally, it’s going to happen-he’s going to take you like you need him to. But no. It’s barely anything at all.. he pulls back again, just enough to keep you dangling on the precipice of madness.
A wicked smirk tugs at his lips as he watches the frustration flicker across your face. "Did you really think I'd make it that easy for you?" he purrs, dragging himself through your slick folds once more, letting you feel every teasing, torturous inch without ever granting you true satisfaction. "Tell me, darling-what makes you think you’ve earned this?"
The whine that comes from you doesn't sound like a noise a person should me.  
“Do you deserve to have me inside you, darling?” His words drip with condescension, teasing, testing. “I think you like this-being denied, being kept on edge. Look at you, so beautifully desperate for me.” You wanted to cry as he pulled back out the tip of him leaving, all so he could drag it back through your wetness again.  Teasing, torturing, smearing your arousal along his length as he watches you shudder beneath him. He loves this, making you tremble, making you beg. “You need to prove yourself worthy of it,” he purrs, pressing the head against your entrance only to pull away once more, reveling in the way your body clenches, seeking more. “Perhaps I should leave you like this, aching, untouched?” "No, no, no… please.” Your pleas are a meaningless babble, a desperate chant that falls on deaf ears. The denial, the exquisite torment, is pushing you past the point of coherence. Your body writhes beneath him, every nerve frayed, every inch of you desperate for relief.
Loki only hums, pleased by the way you tremble beneath him. His fingers trace idle patterns over your hips, his touch feather-light compared to the unbearable pressure coiling inside you. He watches, drinking in every little gasp, every pitiful sound.
“Such a pretty thing when you beg,” he muses, his tone all mocking adoration. “But have you truly learned your lesson? Do you understand now that nothing is given freely?”
His cock moves along you again, now teasing himself as much as he is teasing you. Every motion is measured, calculated to keep you right there, teetering between pleasure and torment. He presses the head against you, not quite pushing in, letting you feel the promise of him, the heat, the sheer size of what you so desperately crave.
“Tell me, darling,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “do you deserve me?” You nodded too quickly. 
“You think you can handle all of me, darling?” He chuckles, low and dark, watching your face, drinking in the way you clench around him, desperate. “How precious.”
You writhe, your thighs trembling around his hips, but he stays right there, maddeningly still. A slow grind, a teasing pulse of movement, and then nothing. Again and again, keeping you hovering on the edge of madness. His hands explore you leisurely, fingers dragging over your skin, marking his path with the ghost of his touch. He cups your breast, pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, making you cry out, only for him to pull away again.
“Such a greedy little thing,” he muses. “But greed will get you nowhere.”
You can feel the cruelty in his touch, in the way he gives and then takes, lets you taste heaven before snatching it away. That is his way, after all-Loki never offers pleasure without the balance of torment. And tonight, he is in a mood to make you drink from both cups in equal measure.
Your nails dig into his back, leaving red crescents against his skin, your frustration mounting with every tease, every denied pleasure. The slow, torturous game continues, Loki offering fleeting touches, brief movements, but never enough to tip you over the edge. The ache in your core is unbearable, a pulse of heat winding tighter and tighter, but he keeps you right there, just shy of bliss.
The anticipation is unbearable, the pleasure bordering on pain. “Loki,” you whine, every syllable thick with frustration, with need. “Please.”
He hums, considering. He enjoys this part, making you work for it, making you say the words he wants to hear. His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you meet his gaze, those blue eyes alight with cruel delight.
“Oh, sweet thing,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking over the pulse pounding in your throat. “You’ll have to beg much prettier than that.”
He shifts just enough to tease you further, his cock pressing forward barely an inch before he pulls back again, his smirk widening as you whimper in frustration. His thumb drags across your lower lip, his voice a silken purr.
“Tell me how badly you want it,” he instructs. “Tell me you belong to me.”
Your breath stutters, a fresh wave of heat rolling through you at the command. For a brief moment, something inside you wars against it-pride, dignity, a sliver of defiance buried beneath the need. But it’s fleeting, crumbling under the weight of how desperately you want him. Your body betrays you, shifting instinctively toward him, aching for relief, and any thought of resistance melts away as quickly as it appeared. You hesitate, but the need outweighs pride.
“I'm aching, please..." The need, the throbbing at your center is starting to hurt. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if he keeps it up.
He tsks, shaking his head, lips brushing yours. “Not good enough, darling.”
Your entire body shudders, the overwhelming pressure winding tight in your core like a drawn bowstring, stretched to its very limit, threatening to snap at any moment. “Please, Loki,” you try again, voice raw with desperation. “Please, Loki, I'll do anything. Just give me what I need. I can't take it." Your voice cracks in a pathetic sob. 
A flicker of satisfaction gleams in his gaze before he captures your mouth in a searing kiss. His hips press forward, and this time, he doesn’t stop.. You are completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, your body instinctively responding to every slow, measured roll of his hips. His smirk victorious and knowing, as he whispers against your ear, his breath a sinful caress.
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simplyholl · 9 months ago
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The Bet
Summary: Loki has an interesting punishment when you lose a bet.
Pairing: Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Vibrating panties.
A/N: Inspired by that scene in The Ugly Truth.
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“You can’t be serious.” You take the garment from Loki, wishing you could smack the smirk off his face. “You lost the game. So you have to wear them.” He explains, crossing his arms as he leans against your doorway.
“I’ve never lost a game of Uno in my life. You were cheating.” You exaggerate, trying to talk your way out of it. “Put them on. I’ll know if you don’t.” He walks away, leaving you alone.
You and Loki were always competitive with each other, placing stupid bets on frivolous games. Two days ago, you were playing Uno when Loki wanted to make the game interesting. You had beaten him three times already, so you thought you had it in the bag.
If you win Loki had to spend an entire day doing your chores naked. He hated menial tasks, oftentimes he would pay someone else to do his cleaning and laundry. So you knew he would hate it. As for the naked part, you had eyes. You might not get along all the time, but Loki was beautiful.
You had let your dishes pile up, your laundry basket was overflowing, your floors were sticky. You had been busy with missions and Nick Fury made you attend meetings all week so you were behind.
Loki smirked when you told him what you wanted if you won. “If you want to see me naked, you only have to ask.” The devilish smile that accompanied his quip made your skin heat up from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.
“If I win, you will wear the clothing of my choosing to the meeting on Friday.” You accepted, he would probably make you wear a burlap sack or a silly costume. You weren’t easily embarrassed, so whatever he picked wouldn’t be an issue. Fury would be mad with your theatrics, but you had been doing his bidding all week. He owed you.
The game had been going well. You had three draw four cards in your possession, using them strategically. Then the unthinkable happened. Loki won, placing a red card with a number two on top of your card. He had to have cheated somehow. He didn’t even know how to play until a few days prior when Steve taught him.
With only seconds to spare, you slid your panties down your legs replacing them with the pair Loki gave you. They were black and lacy. You were a little unsure why he wanted you to wear these specific panties. He had to be up to something. He wasn’t the God of Mischief for nothing.
You put them on, feeling something hard under the fabric. You straighten your sun dress and fluff your hair. You look at your phone, you were already late. You didn’t have time to take them off and inspect them. You weren’t a sore loser either, so you would wear them to the meeting.
You rushed down the hall to the elevator. You get on with three others, from their white coats you could tell they worked in the labs. You waited impatiently as the elevator stopped on the tenth floor letting them off. You were five minutes late now. You dreaded whatever smart ass remark Fury would have for you.
Finally, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. You rushed out, running down the hall to the conference room. Fury stopped speaking to turn and greet you. “It’s about damn time.” He said, returning his attention to the smart board behind him.
You looked around the table for Natasha. She always saved a seat for you. But on her left sat Thor and Loki was on her right. The only empty seat was beside him. You curse him in your head as you walk around the table to take your seat. You wonder how he got Thor to switch from his usual seat beside Steve.
Fury starts talking again, calling on Tony to explain some new technology he was working on for all of you. You try to hide your yawn behind your hand. This stuff was always so boring. Why did you have to be here while they discussed how cool they thought this was?
You try to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, afraid you would fall asleep. A small vibration from your panties knocked the tiredness right out of you. It caught you off guard, but it was tolerable. You turn your head to look at Loki who is staring straight ahead, completely focused on Fury.
That little shit. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, so you raised your hand asking a question and pretending you couldn’t feel yourself growing wetter. You sneak another glance at him, his prominent nose scrunching as he keeps his eyes forward. The vibration speeds up once, twice, three times. You ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palm.
The device rolls in waves against you, brushing your clit. You bite your lip until you taste blood to keep from making a sound. It hums rhythmically, each pulse bringing you closer to orgasm. You can’t hear what Bruce says when he stands to pass out folders filled with the layout of Tony’s design.
He hands it to you, expecting you to take it from him. But you can’t, one hand is wrapped around the side of your chair, the other is clawing at Loki’s leg silently pleading with him to stop this madness. When you don’t reach for the folder, Bruce looks you over, taking in your frazzled appearance and the bead of sweat sliding down your neck. He mouths “You okay?” You nod a little too quickly and he sets the folder in front of you.
Loki opened your folder, bringing out the page Fury was discussing. His gaze lingers on your face for a second, and you think he’s finally satisfied and going to turn it off. The glimmer of mischief shines in his eyes as he returns his full attention to Fury. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not yell in frustration. Then you realize his momentary kindness was only to distract you.
The vibration hits its peak, and you lose control. Your fist slams on the table. All eyes are on you. “Do you have something you’d like to add?” Fury asks, assuming your interruption was about the stupid technology you had no idea about. The ripples flutter against your clit, your lower stomach clenching with the onset of orgasm.
“Yes!” You stand up surprising yourself and Loki who lifts a brow. You can’t think clearly so you hope walking will help. You pace the area behind Natasha, every lift of your leg moves your panties, causing the vibe to reach new angles. “I love this! I love it! I lo-ove it!” Your voice raises a few octaves. Tony smiles, excited someone is showing interest in his hard work besides Bruce and Fury.
“This is the kind of enthusiasm I expect from the rest of you.” He says pointing an accusing finger at the others. “What do you love about it?” He prompts you. You stop behind Loki’s chair, he turns to watch the show you were putting on. You clutch the top of his chair, as the vibration sends you over the edge.
“It’s the best! God, the best!” You look in Loki’s eyes as your legs tremble. “Oh fuck! It’s incredible!” Tony is beaming, hands coming together to clap. “Thank you! This is the kind of reaction I was wanting.” The vibration finally stops, as you wobble a few steps to your chair. Loki gives you his hand to help you sit down. You reluctantly take it, settling back in.
The meeting was finally over five minutes later. Everyone rushed to leave except for you and Loki. “Asshole.” You playfully slap his arm. He stands, gathering his phone and folder. “If you need assistance cleaning up that mess you made” He gestures to your legs, “I’d be happy to help.” He flashes that irresistible smile before leaving you to recover in the conference room.
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lovinglokilaufeyson · 9 months ago
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Five Minutes - L.L.
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Pairings: Loki x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Not Proofread, Smut, Oblivious!Reader, Reader in Denial, Horny!Loki, Loki's use of magic, Intern!Reader, Dubcon (if you squint), Threesome (technically), Mutual Pining
Wordcount: 2,009
Summary: Loki has it bad for you. Having recently graduated from college, Tony Stark recruited you to work for him in his lab. A certain tall, dark and mysterious god takes a quick liking to you. He loves teasing you, and it's very clear that he wants you. To everyone but you, of course. Loki begins to use his magic to strip you of your defenses, but how will you respond?
A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this little imagine I wrote up! As always, thank you all for your support on all of my other stories, I appreciate every single one of you! Without further ado, some fresh Loki smut.
The Avengers compound amazed you. There was so much to see, and Tony Stark had become somewhat of a father figure for you. He was very encouraging and for the most part, you were enjoying your start at the tower. You felt like the Avengers were like your family now. Natasha, Thor, and Steve were all like older siblings to you. Thor's brother Loki, however, had made several advances towards you. You always felt that he was teasing or that he wouldn't be interested in someone like you. You were a mere mortal, and although you were intelligent, Loki was a god.
However, he was a god who knew what and who he wanted. And he had his eyes set on you. The team didn't completely trust Loki yet. So, whenever they found themselves on a mission and you were stuck working in the lab, Loki always seemed to make his way up there to see you. On a typical day, he was always hiding in the library. But whenever you were in the lab alone, he was there to find you. Today was one of those days.
Loki also loved to comment on your lab gear, as he thought it was adorable. Your goggles, lab coat, your face shield. It was just simply adorable. So, when he spotted you in the lab, doing some experiments, he internally grinned. He opened up the glass door leading inside, and immediately you glanced up at him. "Oh darling, why can't you just be mine already?" You giggled, but avoided the question. "Loki, how many times have I told you that you need to be in proper lab attire to be in the lab? It is far too danger-" Loki shushed you by placing his index finger over your lips.
"And how many times have I told you I'm a god, love?" You glared up into his eyes. "That doesn't mean you're immortal from chemical burns, Loki."
"Aren't you bored up here?" He asked you suddenly. "No, thank you for asking. I'm quite entertained by what I'm doing here."
"So that means you don't want me to tear those clothes off of you?" Loki proposed. "I- I- um-" You stuttered, clearly flustered by his question. He shushed you again with his index finger. You blushed, pulling away from him slightly. "I'm working."
"You can't just take a little fifteen minute break?" He pondered. You went to speak, before he spoke again. "Actually, we both know it'd turn into much longer than that." He winked, and your cheeks turned into an even deeper red hue.
"Okay, doll. I'll leave you be. For now..." The god left your presence, and suddenly you felt a longing in your chest for him. You did like Loki. A lot. But you felt that his teasing you must be completely silly and only due to the fact that he was completely and entirely out of your league.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
The next time you saw Loki was when the Avengers returned from their mission later that day. Tony called a post-mission meeting in the team room to talk about strengths and weaknesses of the team and how improvements could be made.
You sat down with your cup of water, ready to talk with everyone about how the mission had gone. Everyone was alive, so the conversation was promising. In addition, no one ended up in the medical wing of the tower. Therefore, the meeting was to take place in the conference room in mere minutes. Tony, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, yourself, Loki, and several others sat among a large table.
Tony began with an overview of the mission, and although you tried your best to pay attention, you couldn't help but zone out unexpectedly several different times. You went for your glass of water, taking a small sip.
However, Loki had other plans. He formulated that a combination of your white blouse and water would be a delightfully - nearly lethal - one. With a flick of his hand, the water slipped out of the glass and onto the fabric that now coated your chest. The fabric that once hung loose, complimenting the shape of your breasts now completely surrounded them, and Loki loved the sight. You cursed to yourself, then got up and retreated to your room to change. Everyone understood why.
Loki, being his mischievous self, created a clone of himself to watch upon the meeting, while the other followed you to your bedroom.
"Darling, are you alright?" Loki knocked on your door with little to no hesitation. "Yes, Loki! I'm alright. Thank you for asking. Just getting changed!" In an instant, Loki transported himself into your room. Your white, lacy bra exposed to him, along with your tight black pencil skirt leaving little to the imagination. You gasped.
"I wouldn't mind helping you get undressed..." Loki spoke, shocking you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. "I- um- we have a meeting to attend, Loki." Although you had always sensed Loki's teasing towards you, it was always your understanding that all it was was teasing. Nothing more. But this - this was different. He was standing in front of you now, seeing more than most men ever had. Recognizing just how much you were exposed to the god, you attempted to fold your arms across your chest, which he immediately pulled back down to the side.
"Don't hide yourself from me, darling." Loki's voice was soft, yet stern. You gazed up at him, your innocent doe eyes doing more to him than you could ever imagine. Loki felt himself hardening more, if at all possible. "Let's make a deal, Y/N L/N. If I can get your precious mortal form to cum in 5 minutes or less, then you become mine."
You stood still for a moment, like a deer in headlights, completely shocked from his words. If you were honest, you had no idea that Loki even knew your last name. "I- I-" you started, unable to pursue words any longer. "Do we have a deal?" Loki spoke, more confidently than ever. "What do you mean I become yours?" You almost snapped at him, suddenly becoming somewhat agitated by the pressure of Loki's presence. "Your delicious physical form will be mine, your mind, your heart, all of it."
"So a slave?" "No, not a slave. I worship you too much. I just want you." You looked perplexed for a moment. "But why?" "Darling, shh. Your questions are terribly incessant. So, do we have a deal?"
"I would like to adjust the terms slightly. If - and I mean if - you can make me cum in 5 minutes, you can take me out on a date. Being a piece of property just really does not appeal to me in the slightest." In all honesty, you did not anticipate Loki taking your bid for a mere date. "Darling, I do not view you as property, not at all. However, I will accept your offer for this 'date.'"
And with that, Loki placed his lips firmly on yours. Slightly in shock, you pulled away for a mere moment. "Ah ah ah, we need a timer." You pulled out your phone, setting a timer for 5 minutes. He planted a kiss on you once more, wasting absolutely no time stripping you of your skirt, bra, and panties. 4m 53s.
He pushed you onto the bed, magically ridding himself of his own clothes as well. With the snap of his fingers, his clothes were removed, the green dust dissolved and they quickly dissipated, revealing his brilliant body underneath. 4m 47s. 
His cock stood at attention, its length prominent. Certainly larger than you had taken previously. You had begun to doubt the possibility of Loki even being able to fit inside of you. Before you could question it further, you felt Loki’s heated breath on your labia, his fingers parting it slightly so he could coax forward your clitoris towards his tongue. 
He brought his mouth to sit around your clit, suckling lightly as he got you warmed up. Similarly, he brought his fingers to massage your breasts, paying special attention to your nipples. Suddenly, a magical green aura flashed, and a second Loki was upon you, taking your lips in his, twisting his tongue amongst yours, and almost most importantly, bringing your wrists up to hold in restraint above your head. 4m 32s. 
Your heat became considerably wetter, especially now that there were two Lokis playing with you. You moaned, which was mostly absorbed by Loki’s mouth, which was still toying with yours. You felt your nipples get pinched, at this point you weren’t sure by which Loki. You just knew pleasure, and that you were writhing with it, overwhelmingly so. 
You felt a teasing finger prod your entrance, almost beckoning you forward to beg for Loki’s member. However, you were distracted enough by the gentle kisses that were being placed on your lips, that you didn’t want to pull away from aside from the ever so slight breath that was needed for your pleasure to continue. Loki’s tongue continued to swirl around your clit teasingly, as your canal spasmed around his finger. 4m 15s.
You felt Loki’s lips release from yours, while you still felt the pressure from the other Loki lower. You let out a brief moan, making eye contact with the Loki above. “Good girl. Let me hear your beautiful sounds, darling.” 3m 57s. 
“You’re quite wet down here, my love. How would you like to feel your God inside of you?” The other Loki spoke from below, while simultaneously continuing to play with your clit and inside of you. You nodded feverishly, desperate to feel more than just Loki’s fingers in you. “Say it, my love.” “Please, Loki. Please.” 
“With pleasure, darling.” 3m 28s. The other Loki who was kissing you disappeared into green dust, as the first stood up. “I prefer this part to be more intimate, just the two of us.” 
Suddenly, Loki’s tip prodded against your opening, he took his time swirling around it before gently pressing inwards. You let out a moan as his tip entered you, pressing against your walls. His girth was certainly more than anyone you had been with previously. He is a god, after all. “Fuck,” you cursed. 
Loki tsked. “Be a good girl for me” he slid inside of you with a sudden movement, fully penetrating you. 2m 45s. 
“Oh my god” you moaned. “That’s right, your god.” 2m 22s. 
Loki brought your legs to his shoulders, thrusting steadily inside of you as he kissed your lips. You had never felt this much pleasure in your life. You groaned out as Loki released your lips from his. “Feels good, doesn’t it baby?”
“So, so good” you moaned, his pulsating inside of you more and more consistent, more intense with every stroke. “You’re so good for me, love.” 
Your legs shaking with pleasure as Loki continued his persistent pounding of your canal. 1m 57s.
“I’m-” you stuttered, Loki hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath as warmth built inside of your stomach. “You’re what, darling?” Loki questioned teasingly, knowing you barely had it in you to answer. 1m 34s. 
“I’m gonna- oh my god.” 
“You’re gonna what, love?”
“Cu-cum.” 
“Cum with me, darling. Now.” 1m 2s. 
You felt Loki’s hot fluids coat your insides, as your pleasure brought you to the most incredible orgasm of your life. Loki, staying inside of you, brought his mouth to yours to continue his delicate, yet intense, displays of affection. “Looks like I got about a minute to spare, my lady. So when’s that date?” 
Loki slid out of you, landing next to you on the bed where he could snuggle in close to you.
“Well, let’s count out today, I won’t be able to walk until at least tomorrow.” Loki placed kisses on your cheek and jawline as he held you close. 
“We’ll stay here until then, my love.”
743 notes · View notes
seriiousgiirl · 10 months ago
Text
𝑀𝓎 𝒜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝓉𝓋𝒶!𝓁𝑜𝓀𝒾 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁ You had always tried to avoid Loki since his arrival at the TVA. His presence seemed to bring chaos and unpredictability into your carefully organised world, and you preferred to keep your distance. But one day, as fate would have it, you found yourself colliding with him. The impact sent papers flying and your heart racing as you stumbled back, flustered and embarrassed. Loki, ever the picture of confidence, caught your eye with a smirk, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.
At that moment, the tension between you crackled with electricity, and you realised that perhaps avoiding Loki wasn't as easy as you had thought... . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. slice of life, TVA Loki, canon divergent, no mention of Sylvie, pure fluff and smut, tension, mutual pining and office romance. NSFW, clothed sex, semi-public sex.
➜ ┊: oneshot ⋅ 11K words.
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The soft hum of the fluorescent lights above was a comforting constant as you sat at your desk, meticulously sorting through the day's paperwork. Rows of neatly organised files surrounded you, each one a testament to the precise and orderly world you had come to love at the Time Variance Authority. 
In fact, you had always liked working at the TVA. 
The structure and predictability of your job were a balm to your mind. Every morning you arrived at the same time, greeted by the same faces, and slipped into the same rhythm of work. It was calm, peaceful even, as your duties revolved around filling papers and ensuring everything was in order. The sense of security it provided was unparalleled. You had never known anything else, and you didn't need to. 
You weren't a field agent, tasked with the dangerous job of apprehending Variants. No, you were just a simple, normal, office employee. The closest you had ever come to the excitement and peril of the outside world were the stories shared by Mobius. His tales of daring chases and complex cases were fascinating, yet they felt like tales from another realm.
You preferred the stability of your office, far removed from the unpredictability of the timelines.
But everything changed the moment Mobius walked into the office with his new favourite companion in tow: Loki. The God of Mischief himself had entered your realm, and with him, he brought chaos and  mischief.
Loki's presence was impossible to ignore. He moved through the office with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his every step commanding attention. Conversations halted mid-sentence as heads turned to follow his steps. Whispers spread like wildfire, each tale more elaborate than the last, painting Loki as both a dangerous renegade and an irresistibly charming man.
Loki had a way of making everyone feel like they were the centre of his universe, if only for a moment. His mischievous smile, the glint in his green eyes, and the smooth cadence of his voice seemed to enchant everyone he encountered. The effect was especially noticeable among your female colleagues. They flocked to him, their laughter ringing louder, their smiles brighter, each one hoping to catch his attention.
You tried to remain detached, to focus on your work as you always had. After all, you prided yourself on your professionalism and your ability to maintain order in the midst of distraction. But it would be a lie to say you were unaffected. His charm was like a siren's call, drawing you in despite your best efforts to resist.
Not that Loki noticed you. In fact, you two had never even spoken.
You preferred to stay hidden behind your desk, your head down, your fingers flying over the paperwork. The uniform you wore, identical to everyone else's, served as a kind of camouflage, blending you into the sea of TVA employees. It was easy to be invisible, and that was exactly what you wanted—right?
While others seemed to bask in the glow of his attention, you observed from afar, your heart a quiet drum in your chest whenever he was near. You couldn't deny his charm or the way he seemed to draw everyone in, but you weren't eager to be caught in his orbit. 
The idea of his sharp eyes turning your way was both thrilling and terrifying. You told yourself it was better this way. Better to remain unnoticed. Yet, you couldn't help but watch him, stealing glances whenever you were sure he wouldn't see. His interactions with Mobius were particularly endearing. They seemed to share a friendship that was both unexpected and intriguing, that you could only admire from a distance.
One afternoon, while filing away another stack of reports, you overheard snippets of conversation from across the room. Loki's voice, rich and mocking, drifted over to you. "Mobius, you really think these people can keep the timelines in check? They can't even keep their desks tidy."
You glanced up just in time to see Mobius chuckle, shaking his head. "Don't underestimate the people here, Loki. They're the backbone of the TVA."
Loki's gaze swept across the office, and for a heart-stopping moment, it seemed to linger in your direction. You quickly ducked your head, focusing intently on the papers in front of you, praying he hadn't noticed your stare.
"Did you see that? Loki looked right over here!" one of your coworkers working right behind you exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her friend, a usually reserved archivist, blushed and nodded.  "He did, didn't he? I thought I was imagining it."
"Imagine, the God of Mischief himself glancing our way. Do you think he noticed us?"
She shrugged, but her smile betrayed her delight. "Maybe he did. He's so... mesmerising and handsome..."
You tried to ignore their chatter, burying your attention deeper into your work. Yet, it was impossible not to feel a pang of something—envy, curiosity, or perhaps… a mix of both. 
As their excited whispers continued, you risked another glance in Loki's direction, as if to confirm whether he was looking at you or not. This time, you noticed that his eyes were not focused on you but the girls behind you. 
With a quiet sigh of relief, you realised that you hadn't been the target of his piercing gaze in the first place. 
Thankfully, after that little distraction, the rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and muted conversations. The excitement caused by Loki's presence gradually subsided, leaving a buzz of residual energy that lingered in the office. 
When the clock finally signalled the end of your shift, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. It was time to bring your finished reports to the archives and be done with your day. You gathered your files, neatly stacking them into a folder, and stood up, stretching your stiff muscles. 
The office had started to empty out, your colleagues drifting away to their own routines and lives. With a last quick glance around, you made your way to the archives, the path familiar and comforting—The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights the only sound. 
As you approached the archive room, you pushed open the door to the archives, the cool air and musty scent of old paper welcoming you. The room was dimly lit, rows of shelves stretching into the distance, each one filled with the meticulously organised records of the TVA. 
You made your way to the designated section, classifying your report with practised ease.
As you slid the last folder into place, a sense of accomplishment settled over you. The day's work was done, and you could finally retreat to the quiet sanctuary of your quarters. You turned to leave, your thoughts already drifting to the comfort of your routine, when you suddenly collided with someone.
More precisely, your face collided with a solid, well-muscled chest, the impact sending papers scattering wildly to the floor around you. The chaos of fluttering documents mirrored the frenzy in your chest as your heart plummeted, preparing for the inevitable apology. 
The warmth of his body enveloped you, the scent of his cologne, a heady mix of musk and spice, filling your nostrils. His hand, rough and calloused, gripped your wrist, anchoring you to his chest to steady you. 
"I’m so sorry, I didn’t—" you began, looking up to meet the gaze of the person you had so clumsily bumped into. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized him. "Loki," you whispered, the realisation stealing your voice. The God of Mischief himself, tall, dark, and disarmingly handsome, gazed down at you with an arched eyebrow. His thin lips curled into a smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 
"What have we here? The diligent office worker, causing quite the mess. How… unexpected."  Loki's throaty chuckle filled the air, sending shivers down your spine. "No harm done, little one. It’s ok."
In a flurry of nervous energy, you dropped to your knees, gathering the scattered parchment with frantic hands, desperate to regain some semblance of control. Loki joined you, his movements graceful and deliberate as he shared in your task. The closeness of his body sent your heart into a frenzied race, each brush of his fingers against yours leaving you reeling from the lightning bolts of sensation.
As you offered the final document, you dared to lift your gaze to meet his. His expression remained amused, but you swore you caught a glint of something more—a glimmer of curiosity or perhaps longing—hidden within the depths of his emerald eyes.
"Thank you, Loki," you breathed, attempting to steady your trembling hands. "I didn't mean to—"
"No need for apologies, Y/n," he interrupted gently, his voice deep and rich, a melodious rumble that seemed to echo through your very soul. Standing, he extended a hand to help you rise, his touch possessing an otherworldly warmth that seemed to seep into your very bones—he was perhaps a lot of things, but a gentleman and a prince, for sure.
You could feel the heat of his body, the scent of his cologne—spicy and forbidden—wrapping around you like a seductive fog. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in this private sanctuary until—his words registered fully in your mind, and you blinked in surprise.
"Wait, how do you know my name?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.
Loki's smirk widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, Mobius often talks about you and your amazing work. He speaks quite highly of you, actually."
Your eyes widened further, a mix of disbelief and a strange, fluttering sensation in your chest. "Mobius talks about me?"
"Indeed, I mean he is your boss," Loki said casually, as if discussing the weather. "He says you're the best at what you do, always meticulous and efficient. It seems you've made quite an impression on him."
You felt a blush creeping up your neck, a mix of embarrassment and pride. Mobius had always been kind, but you had no idea he thought so highly of you. And the fact that Loki, of all people, knew about it was both flattering and daunting. "I... I had no idea," you stammered, trying to process this new information.
Loki chuckled softly, the sound rich and surprisingly comforting. "Well, now you do."
You met his gaze, your heart racing at the intensity of his eyes. For a moment, you felt something, a bridge between your orderly world and the chaos he represented. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
"Thank you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That means a lot."
Loki's expression softened, and he gave a nod of courtesy. "You're welcome, Y/n. Keep up the good work."
With that, he turned and went his way to classify his own files, leaving you standing in the dimly lit archive room, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter had been brief, but it had left an indelible mark, shaking the foundations of your carefully constructed world.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The next day at the TVA started just like any other. You slipped into your routine with the ease of long practice, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you processed reports and organised files. The office buzzed with its usual hum of activity, a comforting backdrop to your meticulous work. 
Despite your best efforts to maintain your focus, your mind kept drifting back to yesterday. The memory of his intense gaze, the way he had spoken your name—it all lingered in your thoughts, refusing to be ignored.
You watched Loki from afar, just as you had done before. He moved through the office with his characteristic blend of grace and mischief, drawing attention wherever he went. He conversed with Mobius and other agents, his laughter echoing through the grand office. You told yourself that nothing had changed. 
You were still just a diligent office worker, content with your quiet, orderly life. 
But now, knowing the weight of Loki's gaze, something inside you had shifted. It left you feeling unsatisfied, hungry for more. And that morning, you found yourself stealing glances at him more often, your heart skipping whenever he was near. But despite your best effort to catch his attention, nothing changed… What were you expecting? Perhaps you hoped Loki would greet you, a playful smile on his lips, and make a comment about how amusing it was when you had bumped into him the day before. 
Maybe you wanted him to acknowledge your presence for once?
No, you had to be content with what you had. You reminded yourself of this as you filed another report, trying to quell the restless desire that had taken root inside you since yesterday. Your job, your routine—they have always been enough. They had to be enough.
When it was finally time for lunch, you gathered your things with a heavy heart and made your way to the cafeteria. The anticipation from the morning had left you drained, a quiet disappointment settling in as you went through the motions of selecting your usual meal. The familiar tray of food did little to lift your spirits…
You navigated the crowded cafeteria, scanning for an empty table. As you unwrapped your sandwich and took a bite, your thoughts wandered back to Loki—Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the figure approaching your table until a shadow fell over you. 
You looked up, startled, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was.
"Do you mind if I take this seat?" Loki asked, his voice smooth and confident.
For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. The cafeteria noise seemed to fade into the background, and all you could focus on was the intensity of his gaze. "Um, no, I don't mind," you managed to say, gesturing to the empty chair across from you.
Loki smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and sat down gracefully. "Thank you. It's rather crowded today, isn't it?"
You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart. "Yeah, it usually is around this time."
For a moment, there was an awkward silence. You took another bite of your sandwich, your mind racing with questions. Why was Loki sitting with you? What did he want?  Loki seemed to sense your unease. "I hope I'm not disturbing your lunch," he said, his tone casual. "I simply thought it might be nice to have some company—Mobius, unfortunately, is entangled in an important meeting." He said, in a dramatic tone.
You blinked in surprise, not quite believing your ears. "No, it's fine. I... I usually eat alone, or with my colleagues when they are free..." The last part was a lie, and he seems to pick up on that based on his smirk. 
"Well, then I'm glad I could change that today," Loki replied, his smile charming.
As you took another bite, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was the moment you had hoped for all morning. Yet, now that it was happening, you felt unsure of what to say or how to act.
Loki's gaze lingered on your face, a hint of curiosity glinting within his deep green eyes. He picked up his sandwich, taking a bite as he observed you with an air of calculated interest. The silence lingered for a moment more, heavy with the unspoken thoughts that coursed through your minds.
You, feeling the weight of his scrutiny, attempted to break the tension. "So, uh, how did you end up working here with Mobius anyway?" You asked, feigning nonchalance as you tore off a piece of your sandwich, your cheeks flushing at the question's clumsiness. “I only heard part of the story…”
Loki chewed, swallowed, and then replied with a playful grin, "Oh, a lucky encounter really—or perhaps, a misfortune for Mobius. He needs my help and expertise on variants, as I am one myself. Now, here I am, tapping away at a keyboard when they force me to behave and avoiding the wrath of the All-Father when I’m on the missions outside."
You chuckled, relieved by the ease in his response. "Well, it's a good thing for us then, right? A Loki by our side is quite unexpected." You smiled shyly, feeling a strange warmth bloom within your chest.
Loki's eyes sparkled, a mischievous glint dancing within them. "Indeed, and the office would be a far duller place without my charm and wit." He playfully winked, his confidence intoxicating.
You laughed, feeling a giddy thrill coursing through you. But, you weren't going to admit he was right. 
Loki leaned back in his chair, his arms resting casually on the table, a picture of unbridled leisure. "Enough about me, Y/n, tell me, what brings you joy in your daily office life?" His eyes held a glint of curiosity, a genuine interest in your life that made your heart swell with warmth.
You hesitated, taken aback by the earnestness in his question. "Well, I enjoy helping people. Organising meetings, coordinating schedules, ensuring everything runs smoothly, filling my reports in time," you admitted, your eyes flickering downwards in a display of coy modesty. “Nothing interesting…”
Loki's lips curved into a grin, the corners crinkling as he nodded. "Ah, the unsung heroine of bureaucracy. I can see why Mobius values your efforts so highly."
You smiled at the compliment, the praise melting away some of the insecurities that had plagued you throughout the day. "Mobius is an excellent leader. I'm glad to be part of his cause." Loki's teasing tone, combined with his genuine admiration, made you feel as if you were basking in the sun. His praise shone like gold, a moment of validation that left you beaming with pleasure. The teasing, though playful, was underpinned by respect and appreciation, a rare and heart-warming combination that left you feeling cherished and seen.
Loki chuckled at your response, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his coffee. "His cause? I can see why Mobius's empire would crumble without your guiding hand."
Waving your hand, you brushed off his words with a blush, "Please, I'm hardly that important." You smiled sheepishly, genuinely flattered by his praise.
"On that note," Loki began, his tone teasing and playful, "I'm curious, Y/n. How was your morning? Mine has been so busy, I didn’t have the time to stop by your desk. I hope you’ll excuse my terrible manners."
You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, realising how childish you had been to think Loki was avoiding you this morning. Clearly, he had been working hard, and here you were, cursing yourself for jumping to conclusions. You paused, before speaking. "Well, it was... hectic. A few reports due, a meeting cancelled at the last minute, and a printer malfunction to top it off."
Loki's eyebrows rose, feigning shock. "A printer malfunction? Oh, the horror!" His teasing tone was laced with an amused sincerity that put you at ease, a respite from the chaos of your workday.
You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, the tension dissipating as you found solace in his company. "I know, right? But, I'm glad it's almost over. Tomorrow's a fresh start."
"Speaking of tomorrow, Y/n," Loki leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "I'll be in the office again, of course. But, perhaps we can repeat today's pleasant interlude for lunch?" He winked, his charm as powerful as the sweetest nectar.
Your cheeks flushed, warmth spreading through your body at the suggestion. "I... I'd like that." You managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Loki grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. "Excellent. I look forward to more delightful conversations with you, my dear Y/n. I’m glad we finally have the chance to talk."
With a nod, Loki stood, his hand brushing against yours once more as he gathered his things. Another shiver raced up your spine, the electrifying sensation leaving you breathless. "Until tomorrow, Y/n."
"Until tomorrow," you whispered back. Loki's eyes twinkled with mischief as he offered you a dazzling smile. He then turned and left the break room, his teasing words echoing in your mind.
As you watched him go, you felt breathless, your heart thudding in your chest. A dreamy smile tugged at your lips, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what tomorrow might bring. With a contented sigh, you finally left the break room a few moments later, the encounter replaying in your thoughts.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
It seemed like fate liked to put you back in your place, reminding you of the reality of your daily life. A last-minute meeting left you no choice but to skip your lunch and forgo your usual break time—and in the process, the beginning of your lunch routine with Loki. With no time to leave a note on Loki's desk to excuse yourself, you were hurriedly ushered into the meeting room.
The meeting was a whirlwind of instructions and assignments, each one piling onto your already considerable workload. You barely had a moment to catch your breath as tasks were handed out one after another. By the time the meeting finally concluded, you felt drained and overwhelmed, a far cry from the excitement and anticipation you had felt earlier in the day at the prospect of spending time with him. 
You wondered what Loki might think. 
Would he understand, be angry, or would he see it as a sign of disinterest?
You could rack your brains and think of all the possible scenarios, at that moment you had no other choices than standing in the grand archives room, searching for a useful file related to a new variant case. The quiet, dusty atmosphere of the archives was a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the office. You moved between the towering shelves, your fingers trailing along the spines of countless folders and documents.
As you pulled out one of the files you needed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Your encounter with Loki had felt like a brief escape from the monotony of your routine, a tantalising glimpse of something more. Yet, here you were, back in the grind of your daily duties.
And at that moment, you knew, why in the first place you didn’t want to have business with him. 
Sighing, you hugged the file to your chest and headed towards the next row of documents. Now, on your tip-toes, you stretched, trying to reach the file that seemed to taunt you from its lofty perch. Suddenly, a familiar masculine scent hung in the air, a perfume that left no guess to who it was as you felt a body press against your back. Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected contact, and you closed your eyes, savouring the warmth.
A warm shiver ran down your spine as his breath ghosted over your ear, whispering, "Need help, Y/n?" The vibration of his voice was enough to steal your breath, and yet, it was his hands—strong yet gentle—that did the real work, lifting you to stand on the tips of his feet.
The file was within your grasp, and as you brought it down, Loki's arms slid around your waist, giving you a momentary squeeze before releasing you. His palms lingered for a moment, leaving tingles in their wake, before dropping away. As you turned around, trapped between the shelves and Loki's towering figure, you met his gaze, his green eyes flickering with a mix of temper and concern. His presence, looming and overpowering, made your heart race, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through your veins.
"I see you're avoiding me," he said, his voice a low growl, thick with displeasure, as if you'd wronged him deeply. "That's not a good idea, Y/n. I don't like to be fooled around, or left waiting." Your eyes darted away, unable to meet his gaze as he added, "I thought it was over," a sharp bite to his words. "I thought you were finally not avoiding me anymore."
A wave of heat flooded your cheeks, and you felt yourself shrink back under his unrelenting scrutiny. "Loki, I—" You struggled for words, the guilt you'd managed to suppress threatening to bubble over. "I-I'm sorry. The meeting at the last minute left me no choice," you whispered shakily.
Loki's gaze was unyielding as he questioned, "You could have found a way. If you wanted to."
You swallowed, your voice wavering. "I promise, I wasn't avoiding you. It's just... things have been hectic."
His eyes narrowed, the anger in them a slow burning fuse. "You've been avoiding me since I arrived, Y/n. Don't try to deny it.” Your heart leapt into your throat, and you found yourself at a loss for words, utterly speechless. 
Loki stepped closer, crowding the space between you, his heat a palpable presence, as he continued, "If you've changed your mind, if you don't want me anymore, then say it. Don't leave me guessing and waiting for something that might never come." His voice was a demanding rumble, laced with frustration and hints of something more, a need that twisted through you like a thorn. 
In that tense, intimate space, you felt the weight of his words, a heavy burden that left you unable to move, unable to deny the truth of what he said. As the seconds stretched on, your breath hitched, and you couldn't seem to break free from his captivating gaze.
Loki's voice, a low, menacing growl, filled the space between you, his words heavy with unspoken threats. "I'm not used to being ignored, Y/n. In the beginning, I thought maybe you hated me, but then..."
His hand, large and commanding, began to move, trailing alongside your thigh, the contact upon your skin only separated by the thin fabric of your tights, sending shivers down your spine. You let out a soft gasp, your breath hitching as he continued, "I caught you staring at me more than once. Why, Y/n, if you didn't want me, would you spend so much time looking at me?"
The intimate touch, coupled with Loki's intense scrutiny, left you breathless, your chest heaving as you struggled to find the right words. "I-I..."
He leaned in, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. "Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what's really going on, and why you never seemed to be happy to see me."
The heat from his hand radiated through you, the pressure of his fingers making you needy. Your heart raced, and you licked your lips, the truth, so long denied, bubbling to the surface. The weight of his unyielding gaze forced you to confront the desires you'd been suppressing. It was a moment where you could no longer hide.
"What game do you play, Y/n?" he asked, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Do you enjoy the chase? Or are you afraid of what you'd find if you let me in?"
As Loki's hand lifted your shirt and the other slipped beneath your skirt, you felt a surge of heat flood your body, mingling with the fear of discovery. His fingers grazed the warm, soft skin of your inner thigh, inching closer to the forbidden territory between your legs.
"No, Loki, we're at work," you stammered, your voice shaking as you tried to push his hand away, but you weren’t truly convincing in your actions. "Someone might find us."
But Loki's grip on your thigh was firm, unyielding, as he continued his relentless pursuit. His eyes held a burning intensity, the lust and need there impossible to ignore. "I won't stop, Y/n, until you tell me the truth," he growled, his voice thick with desire.
You squirmed beneath his touch, a whirlwind of emotions crashing within you. Loki's fingers traced the delicate skin, daring to graze the damp fabric that hid your most intimate secrets.
"I've tried the kinder method, Y/n. Coaxing, seduction, but I can't stand it any longer," he said, the frustration in his voice giving way to raw need. "I need to know what's at the heart of this game you play."
You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and heavy, as his hand slipped beneath your panties, his long fingers teasing the slick heat that awaited him. His thumb brushed against your clit, sending shudders through your body, as he pressed on with a single-minded determination.
Loki's fingers delved deeper into your moist folds, his thumb continuing to circle your clit in a slow, tantalising rhythm. Your body arched into his touch, the pleasure building within you like an inferno, threatening to consume you whole.
His hand moved with an unhurried, almost languid pace, as if savouring the moment, and you couldn't help the moans that escaped your lips. Your nipples hardened against your shirt, straining towards his touch, as the heat between your legs intensified, your arousal slick and voracious.
You clung to his TVA jacket, your legs trembling, as Loki continued his relentless pursuit of your pleasure. The room around you seemed to shrink, narrowing to a single point of focus, the hand that teased you mercilessly.
His other hand gripped your jaw, forcing your head back and to meet his gaze, exposing your throat to his hungry gaze. "Tell me, now. Why do you push me away when you so clearly desire me and my attention?" he growled, his voice heavy with need, as his thumb continued to tease your swollen bud.
The room seemed to spin, the world outside the archives fading away, leaving nothing but the two of you, trapped in a web of lust and deceit. You bit your lip, the truth threatening to spill from your lips, as the line between pleasure and defiance blurred. The God of Mischief's touch, once a source of tension, now threatens to unravel the very core of your being.
You tried to deny his claim, to insist that you never wanted his attention, but the words caught in your throat, because they were lies. The pleasure he'd wrought, the vulnerability he'd exposed, left your denial hollow and meaningless.
But before the moment could resolve, Mobius' voice echoed through the archives, shattering the intimate spell. "Loki! Y/n! We've got a situation," he called out, his voice urgent.
Loki's hand stilled, his eyes never straying from yours for a moment. Then, with a wicked smirk, he pulled his hand away, bringing it up to his lips. Your breath hitched as you watched, wide-eyed, as he licked and tasted your juices, a sinful act that only served to heighten your arousal.
As Loki stood, the air around you thick with unsated desire, he said, "If you really don't want me, I won't press you any further." His tone was teasing. You felt hot and bothered, the lingering touch of the God of Mischief leaving you reeling. Loki's gaze held a challenge, a promise of what might have been. 
The aftermath of Loki's touch lingered, a burning ember that refused to be quenched. The cat and mouse game had intensified, and the passion between you was more volatile than ever before.
Mobius appeared at the scene, his brow furrowed as he took in the sight of the two of you, standing so close, the air between you thick with unspoken desire. "Y/n, Loki. What are you doing here? We have so much to do," he said, arching an eyebrow in disapproval.
He scolded you both, his voice laced with frustration. "You need to focus on the task at hand. There are countless Time anomalies to fix. Geez!"
The remnants of your heated encounter, the lingering scent of your arousal, and the smirk on Loki's face, escaped Mobius' notice. He seemed unaware of the tension that had just passed between you, his focus solely on the work at hand.
"Right. Sorry, Mobius," you mumbled, your cheeks flushed, as you tried to compose yourself, discreetly fixing your skirt. Loki, however, gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes never leaving yours.
Mobius sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Alright. Let's get to work then. We'll need to prioritise the most urgent cases first."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
If you really don't want me, I won't press you any further.
How dare he?! Of course you wanted him. 
You had always prided yourself on being wise, diligent, and organised. Your life at the TVA was meticulously structured, each task carefully planned and executed with precision. Yet, after your last encounter with Loki—heated and intense in the archives room—everything you prided yourself on seemed to be slipping away. 
The conversation replayed in your mind endlessly. His words, his piercing gaze, the way he had called out your supposed avoidance. You had tried to explain, to justify your actions, but it seemed nothing was enough for him (and you had to admit that you didn’t explain yourself clearly...). But, in any case, how dare he insinuate that you were avoiding him? When he had never talked to you before, it wasn’t avoidance, right? 
How dare he tease you with such intensity and then claim he wouldn’t press you further?
All day, you found yourself restless and unfocused, a stark contrast to your usual composed self. The neat stacks of paperwork on your desk seemed to mock you, a reminder of the order you once maintained but now struggled to uphold. Your mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Loki. Loki, Loki, Loki—it seems like he was the only one in your mind since he had arrived, and now you couldn’t deny yourself. 
You were relentless, hungry, and angry. Angry at Loki for his reckless actions and accusations, but also angry at yourself for letting him affect you so deeply. It didn’t sit right with you that he would provoke such a reaction, then leave you to deal with the aftermath alone.
As you worked through another stack of reports, you couldn't shake the feeling of injustice. You had been busy with one meeting—just one—and yet, it felt like your entire world had been turned upside down because of it. 
You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. The rational part of you knew you needed to regain your composure, to return to the calm and collected person you had always been. But the emotional part of you, refused to be silenced.
Maybe it was time to confront him, to make him understand your side of things. Maybe it was time to stop letting him control the narrative and to reclaim the order and stability you had always cherished. The thought of facing him again sent a thrill of both fear and lust through you, but you knew it was something you had to do. 
After all, you had always prided yourself on being wise, diligent, and organised. 
And you would be those things again—no matter what Loki might throw your way.
Suddenly, you stood up, files in hand, and took a deep breath, trying to gather the small part of your bravery that you never thought you had. With what you hoped was a confident stride, you made your way to Loki's desk. He seemed to be doing everything but working, lazily twirling a pen between his fingers.
You didn't hesitate. Approaching his desk, you firmly placed the files down and, in one smooth motion, sat on the edge of his desk crossing your legs as you did so. The fabric of your skirt lifted, revealing a tantalising glimpse of your thighs, a deliberate tease that left you exposed and vulnerable. Your eyes locked with Loki's, daring him to look, to invade your space, to claim what he coveted.
Loki's gaze flickered to your thighs, his eyes lingering on the tender flesh before snapping back to meet yours. The spark of curiosity and amusement in his gaze flared into a fire, the heat of desire stoked by the brazen invitation you'd issued. 
"Not working, I see," you called out, your voice sharper than you intended. "While the rest of us are buried under mountains of paperwork and last-minute meetings, you're here playing with a pen."
Loki's eyes sparkled with interest, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "Ah, Y/n. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" His tone was smooth, almost mocking.
You straighten your posture, trying to maintain your composure. "I wanted to talk to you about our last conversation. You accused me of avoiding you, and I need you to understand that I wasn't. I had responsibilities, a meeting I couldn't skip."
Loki leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Responsibilities, yes. But I wonder if you were using them as an excuse."
Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Excuse? No, Loki, I take my work seriously. Just because I have duties doesn't mean I'm avoiding you." You whispered, trying not to bring too much attention to the two of you. 
He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving the pen as it continued its slow, sensual rotation. "But why were you avoiding me before all this, Y/n?" Your gaze lingered on Loki's fingers, now keenly aware of the pleasure they could bring. The memory of his touch between your legs, the way he sent shivers down your spine, made you bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a shudder of desire.
You felt a surge of arousal, your thoughts racing as you struggled to form a response. "We never talked before, Loki. We weren't acquainted, so I didn't see a reason to approach you."
He studied you for a moment, his gaze intense and probing. "That may be true, but it doesn't explain the way you stared at me. The way your eyes would linger, watching me from afar."
A flush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you felt a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. "I... I wasn't staring," you stammered, trying to downplay the truth. "I was just... observing."
Loki's lips curved into a sly smile. "Observing, were you? Interesting choice of words."
You felt your face heat up even more, and you quickly hushed him, not wanting to delve deeper into your own feelings. "Loki, please. This isn't the time or place."
Loki's eyes gleamed with mischief as he teased you further. "Perhaps, Y/n, but what if I'm not done with our little conversation? Presenting yourself with so much boldness I never thought you could have in you."
As he spoke, his hand crept upward, the movement so subtle that only the sharpest observer would notice. It ghosted up the inside of your thigh, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but tremble at the sensation, your body betraying your feeble attempts to resist his advances. "Loki..." you breathed out, your voice a mix of desire and caution.
"Do you want me to stop?" Loki asked, his voice a velvety growl. His hand paused, hovering just above your knee, waiting for your reply like a predator eyeing its prey. “I assume that if you are here, after all, it’s because you actually want me—at least, more than you care to admit.”
You hesitated, your heart racing as his finger lingered tantalisingly close to the forbidden territory. Loki's gaze was intense, piercing right into your soul, leaving you both exposed and vulnerable.
"No, but…" you whispered, the word escaping your lips before you could fully process its implications. Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, a testament to the turmoil raging within.
Loki's lips curved into a sly smile as his hand resumed its journey, inching higher up your inner thigh. Your breath hitched, the sensation of his touch sending shivers through your body. Just as you felt yourself falling deeper into the enchanting vortex of desire, your pragmatism reasserted itself. 
With a deep breath, you pushed yourself to your feet, the skirt falling back into place, concealing the trail Loki's hand had just traced. "I'm sorry, Loki," you said, your voice steady, "but I'm here to give you these reports, and nothing more." Your eyes met his, a challenge in their depths, daring him to contest your words. "You've got work to do, after all."
Loki's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you wondered if he would defy you, but then he nodded. "Very well… Y/n. I'll get to work." He talked through his teeth, and you knew he wasn’t pleased. As you stepped back, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable bulge pressing against the seam of Loki's tight pants. The hard outline, clearly visible beneath the fabric, left no doubt as to the reason behind his frustration.
Your eyes darted away, unable to meet his gaze as you felt a flush of heat spread across your cheeks. The knowledge that simply being in your presence had triggered such a strong response in Loki was both intoxicating and surprising.
You gave him a brief, reassuring smile before turning on your heel. "I'll leave you to your work now, Loki," you said, your voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions coursing through you. You placed the files on his desk, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. There was no way things were going to be the same after that.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 
After your little break at Loki's desk, the rest of the day took a nosedive. Meetings piled up, deadlines loomed larger, and the usual hum of the office became an overwhelming cacophony. Every time you glanced at the clock, the hands seemed to have barely moved, and your workload only grew.
Paperwork seemed to multiply, each new task more urgent than the last. Your usual efficiency was tested to its limits, and you found yourself making more trips to the archives room, fetching files and data for reports that never seemed to end. 
The frustration you had felt earlier in the day transformed into a relentless drive to get through your tasks, fueled partly by your need to prove to Loki—and to yourself—that you were as dedicated and capable as you'd claimed. Yet, despite your best efforts, the mountain of work refused to shrink.
Before you knew it, the office had emptied out. The usual chatter and activity died down, replaced by an eerie silence. You glanced at the clock and realised with a start that it was well past the end of the workday. 
You sighed deeply, rubbing your tired eyes. Your desk was still covered in unfinished paperwork, and the dim lighting of the office made the stacks of files look even more daunting. As you leaned back in your chair, you felt the weight of the day's events pressing down on you.
A part of you considered calling it a night and leaving the rest for tomorrow, but another part—pushed you to keep going. You had made a promise to yourself, and you intended to keep it, even if it meant staying late.
Just as you were about to dive back into your work, you heard a soft knock on your desk. Looking up, you were surprised to see Loki standing there, his usual air of confidence softened by a hint of concern.
"Still working, Y/n?" he asked, his voice gentle. "You should know when to take a break."
You managed a tired smile. "I lost track of time. There’s just so much to do with this new case."
Loki's gaze softened, and he took a step closer. "Even the most diligent need rest. Let me help."
You blinked, taken aback by his offer. "Help? You?"
He chuckled softly. "Don't sound so surprised. I may be a god of mischief, but even I can lend a hand when needed."
Despite your exhaustion, you felt a warm flutter in your chest. "Alright," you said, scooting over to make room for him. "But no tricks."
Loki grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. "No tricks, I promise. Just a bit of assistance."
As he settled beside you and began sorting through the paperwork, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of relief and gratitude. Maybe, just maybe, the rest of the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. The two of you started to work in silence, an oddly comfortable atmosphere settling between you. The rhythmic shuffling of papers and the occasional scribble of a pen filled the air.
Despite the exhaustion tugging at your limbs, you found solace in his quiet companionship.
Loki worked beside you with surprising efficiency, his long fingers deftly sorting through documents and making notes. You stole a few glances at him, still finding it hard to reconcile the image of the mischievous god with the diligent assistant now by your side. Minutes stretched into hours, and the initial tension gradually eased. It was almost easy to forget the tumultuous events that had brought you to this moment.
But then, breaking the silence, Loki suddenly spoke up. "Y/n, about yesterday in the archives room..."
You looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a rare seriousness in his eyes, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
"I need to apologise for my behaviour," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "I should have asked for your consent before touching you. It was inappropriate and disrespectful."
You were taken aback by his apology. Loki, the God of Mischief, admitting fault so openly? It was a side of him you hadn’t expected. "It’s... okay," you managed to say, though the memory of his touch still lingered, both exhilarating and thrilling. "I appreciate your apology, Loki."
He nodded, a hint of relief in his expression. "Thank you for understanding. I’ve spent so long using charm and manipulation that I sometimes forget the importance of boundaries."
Feigning offence, you raised an eyebrow and asked, "So, have you been manipulating me all this time?"
Loki’s eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly shook his head. "No, not at all. It’s not like that. I haven't been able to control myself around you because... well, I’ve actually been looking forward to spending time with you and learning more about you."
Your feigned offence melted away, replaced by genuine curiosity. "Really?”
Loki let out a sigh, his voice laced with a touch of vulnerability. "Yes. You intrigue me, Y/n. You're like a puzzle I can't solve. I'll admit, yesterday, I was eager for our lunch, and when it didn't happen, it was my own temper that frustrated me, not you."
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Well, you certainly know how to leave an impression, Loki."
Loki hesitated for a moment, then shyly took your hand in his. The unexpected warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine. His fingers were cool and smooth, contrasting with the warmth of your own. He looked down at your intertwined hands for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I have a confession to make," he said softly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "I’ve watched you from afar too. I tried to catch your attention so many times, but it seemed like whatever I did, you never noticed me."
You looked at him, taken aback by his admission. "You were trying to catch my attention?"
He nodded, his gaze earnest and open, a rare vulnerability shining through. "Yes. It frustrated me to no end. You were always so absorbed in your work, so dedicated. I admired that about you, but I also felt... invisible."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had never imagined that Loki, with all his charisma and presence, could feel invisible. You squeezed his hand gently, the simple touch conveying more than words ever could. "I noticed you, Loki. More than you might think."
Loki's eyes softened, his guarded expression melting away to reveal a tentative smile. "I’m glad to hear that. I suppose we were both watching each other from a distance, too afraid to make the first move."
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and connection wash over you. "Maybe it's time we stopped watching from afar and started getting to know each other."
Loki's chuckle was soft, and his thumb brushed across your knuckles sensually. "I believe that's an invitation I would be more than happy to accept, Y/n." For a moment, you both sat there, hands intertwined, the weight of unspoken words and past misunderstandings lifting. 
After a moment, Loki's eyes gleamed with a newfound confidence as he held your hand, his smile playful and inviting. "Y/n, I take it that means you're open to the idea of us getting to know each other better, hmmm?"
The atmosphere between you grew thick with anticipation, charged with the electricity of unspoken desires and the lingering heat from the moments before. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull between you, the undeniable longing to explore the depths of what could be. You returned Loki's smile with a shy one of yours, a knowing look in your eyes. "I would like that, Loki. Very much so."
At your words, Loki smirked, a dangerous light in his eyes as he led you through the halls, his grip on your hand tightening. He could feel your heart racing, and it was a thrill. The office was empty, the staff long gone, and the only light was from the halls, casting shadows that danced along the walls.
As you neared the elevator, Loki pressed you against it, his other hand tangling in your hair as he captured your lips in a needy and impatient kiss. His tongue danced with yours, a masterful display of dominance, and you found yourself moaning into the kiss. It was raw, primal, and everything you never knew you needed.
Amidst the heated passion, you managed to gasp out, "Loki, what are we doing?"
He pulled back from the kiss, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with sinister hunger. "Exactly what we've both been craving, my dear Y/n," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.
The sound of the elevator ding broke through the haze of desire, and the doors opened. Loki wasted no time, pushing you inside and pinning you against the wall with a hunger that matched the intensity of his gaze. His hands moved with practised skill, swiftly removing your blazer as his lips sought out the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Then, Loki's hand gripped your hips, as he tore at your blouse as he unveiled your pert breasts. His lips crashed onto your neck, his teeth grazing your skin marking you, and you couldn't help but arch into him.
He kneeled before you, his hands sliding your skirt up, revealing your lace panties. With a smirk, he lowered his head, his tongue snaking out to lick at the lace. Your hands clutched his dark hair, your body trembling as he tasted you through the fabric.
"Please, Loki," you begged, your voice shaking. Loki's eyes flashed up to yours, and he smiled wickedly before standing, pulling your panties and underwear down, leaving you completely naked. He admired your body for a moment, his eyes lingering on your wet pussy, “Mine, little one.”
"Oh, Loki," you moaned, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through you. The sensation of his tongue sent shivers down your spine.
Loki laughed darkly, his tongue continuing to tease you, "Patience, Y/n. We're still in public, after all."
He stood, pulling you against his still fully clothed body, "But that doesn't mean I can't tease you." He trailed kisses up your neck, his hands moving to your breasts, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipples.
You whimpered, your head falling back as you begged for more. "Loki, I need you. I want you to take me, to have me."
Loki's eyes brightened, his hunger for you palpable. "You'll have me soon enough, Y/n. But first, I need to confess something."
You looked at him curiously, your hands moving to cup his face. "Anything, Loki."
He leaned in, whispering into your ear, "I've wanted to do this to you for so long. To claim you, to make you mine, to fill you with my seed and watch as you scream my name. It's been a burning desire that has consumed me— ever since I arrived here."
A shiver ran down your spine as his words washed over you. "And now?" you breathed, your voice trembling with want.
Loki smirked, "Now, it's finally happening, Y/n. Tonight, you're mine, and I'm going to pleasure you in ways you've never even dreamed of."
His lips captured yours in a scorching kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, demanding your surrender. You gave it willingly, your hands tangling in his hair, your bodies pressed tightly together.
He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with lust. "Come, Y/n. Let's find a more private place where I can truly show you the depths of my desires." Loki scooped you into his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping yours as you looked into his eyes. A knowing smile played on his lips, his eyes dark with lust, promise, and affection.
As the elevator dinged, signalling its final destination, Loki stepped outside, cradling you like a precious treasure and in one smooth motion, he retrieved your discarded clothes from the floor and tucked them under one arm, ensuring that your modesty remained intact.
As the elevator doors opened, Loki strode out confidently, his steps sure and purposeful. Once in his room, he carried you over to his bed. Loki set you down gently, your legs dangling off the edge as he moved to stand in front of you.
You could feel the heat coming off him in waves, the lust in his eyes driving you wild. "Loki," you breathed, your hands reaching up to grip his shirt. "Please, don't make me wait any longer."
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours before he whispered, "Then wait no longer, Y/n. Tonight, all your desires will be met." He leaned down, his kiss was desperate, hungry, and consumed with the need to have more of you. Loki's strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. His massive erection pressed against your stomach, a hard, insistent reminder of his desire for you.
Your nipples hardened against the fabric of his shirt, aching for his touch. You arched into him, your tongue eagerly meeting his as he explored your mouth with the same lust he had in his eyes. 
Loki growled, his teeth grazing your neck as he trailed kisses along your jawline. You shivered, your breathing ragged as he cupped one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly. He pinched your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and arch even more into his grip.
He kissed down your chest, and he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it hard while his fingers played with the other. You moaned, your hands fumbling with his belt, unbuckling it as he switched to the other nipple. Your fingers found the hard length of him through his pants, stroking through the fabric. He groaned, releasing your breast to yank his pants and boxers down, springing his cock free.
Hot breath ghosted over your now-hard nipple as Loki looked up at you, his eyes burning with lust. "Touch me, Y/n. Make me feel how much you want me."
Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, squeezing it firmly. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him. The tip of his cock glistened heavily with precum, and you smeared it across your sensitive nipple, making you gasp and arch into him.
Loki's hand slid between your legs, his fingers making contact with your swollen clit. You cried out, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more. Loki's other hand moved to your hair, gripping it tightly as he leaned you back against the soft fabric of his mattress. He kissed you again, his tongue invading your mouth as he rubbed your clit and stroked your entrance. You could feel the slick heat building between your legs, your desire for him growing with every touch.
He broke the kiss, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "Beg for me, Y/n. Tell me how much you want my cock in your tight little pussy."
Your heart thundered in your chest, the desire to please him and experience the pleasure he promised overwhelming. "Please, Loki," you panted, your voice hoarse. "I need your cock inside me. I want you to fill me up, to make me yours." Your gaze locked onto his as you reached for the hem of his shirt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. With a gentle tug, you pulled the fabric upwards, revealing his chiselled chest, his body a testament to the Gods.
Loki smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "Then spread your legs, Y/n, and let me claim what I want." He shifted his position, his muscles rippling as he moved, the sight of him sending a shiver down your spine. Your fingers trailed over his sweat-slick skin, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his chest, your senses alive with the scent of his masculine aroma.
Finally, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, filled with desire. "You're handsome," you whispered, your voice soft and breathless. Then, you did as he commanded, spreading your legs and lifting your hips as he slipped two fingers into your slick depths. You moaned, your back arching as he began to fuck you roughly. The sensation of his fingers inside you, coupled with the feeling of his cock in your hand, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
Loki smirked, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, his thumb brushing against your jawline. "And you, Y/n, are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on." Loki's fingers trailed down to your core, parting your folds and teasing your clit. His touch was electrifying, your body arching into him.
"Faster," you whimpered, your body aching for more. "Please, Loki, fuck me faster."
Just as you were about to climax, Loki pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping and panting. He positioned his cock at your entrance, rubbing the head against your swollen lips. "Now, Y/n," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Come for me."
You nodded obediently, your eyes wide with need. Loki thrust into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. You screamed, the sensation of his girth filling you pushing you over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you as you clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you.
Loki began to thrust, each stroke filling you completely, his cock slick with your juices. You met his thrusts, your hips rocking back against him as the heat between your legs intensified. Loki grunted, his pace increasing as he neared his own climax.
"Cum for me, Y/n," he panted, his voice strained. "Make me feel like a god when I fill you up."
You moaned, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "I-I'm close, Loki, I'm so close."
Loki's eyes glimmered as he watched you, his hands roaming your body, leaving a trail of fire as his fingers glided over your skin. "If only the others knew how filthy their diligent coworkers were," he whispered, his voice dripping with mischief. "How you crave the touch of a god, longing for your chains to be broken and your true desires to be unleashed." He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands continued to worship your body. His fingers trailed over your breast, teasing your sensitive nipples once again.
"You're a goddess in my eyes, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire. "A divine being, deserving of nothing less than the deepest worship and most carnal of pleasures."
Loki's thrusts became more forceful, his hips slamming into yours as he reached his peak. He roared your name, his cock jerking as he filled you with his hot seed. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as you experienced another, more intense orgasm, the two of you lost in each other's arms.
Finally, as the aftershocks subsided, Loki pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your combined fluids. He leaned in to kiss you deeply, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"That," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur against your skin, his breath warm and enticing as he nestled beside you, his arm draped possessively around your waist, "Was only the beginning, my dear Y/n. The beginning of us getting to know each other, of us exploring each other's desires."
You smiled, your chest still rising and falling with the lingering intensity of your shared passion. Pressed against him, you basked in the warmth that enveloped you, the aftermath of your lovemaking leaving you both fulfilled and content. Loki's grin widened, a glimmer of promise dancing in his eyes as he bestowed a final, tender kiss upon your lips. Holding you close, his presence a comforting anchor, he nuzzled against your neck, his touch gentle and reassuring.
In the quiet of the moment, the stillness punctuated only by the rhythm of your breaths and the soft rustle of sheets, you suddenly became acutely aware of the depth of your feelings for him.
"Loki," you murmured, your voice a mere whisper, "I..." Nerves fluttered in your stomach, but the love swelling within you eclipsed any apprehension. "I love you."
Loki's embrace tightened around you, his gaze locking onto yours, his emotions laid bare in his eyes. A soft, tender smile graced his lips as he leaned in, his breath mingling with yours. "Plot twist, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against your skin, "I love you too."
The words hung in the air, a tangible declaration of the bond that had formed between you, binding you together in a web of love and desire. And as you lay entwined with Loki, you couldn't help but wonder that each moment had led you here, to this bed, with Loki's arms around you and his heart beating in sync with yours.
You traced lazy patterns against his chest, savouring the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. The rise and fall of his chest matched the rhythm of your own, a soothing melody that filled the room with a sense of peace.
As the minutes stretched into hours, you lost track of time, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Words became unnecessary, replaced by the silent language of touch and gaze, of shared breaths and lingering kisses.
And in that suspended moment, surrounded by the warmth of Loki's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. 
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The next day at the TVA seemed like any other, with paperwork piled high and the hum of activity filling the air. You tried your best to act as though nothing had changed between you and Loki, but the memory of your shared confession lingered in the back of your mind, adding an extra layer of tension to your interactions.
As you made your way through the office, Loki fell into step beside you, his demeanour relaxed and nonchalant. "Good morning, love," he greeted you casually, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
You froze mid-step, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as Loki's endearment hung in the air. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mobius raising an eyebrow in surprise, his gaze flickering between you and Loki with keen interest.
"Love?" Mobius echoed, his tone laced with amusement. "Since when did you two become so... affectionate?"
You cleared your throat, desperately trying to regain your composure. "Uh, it's nothing, Mobius," you stammered, shooting Loki a warning glance. "Just a... figure of speech."
But Loki merely smirked, undeterred by Mobius' scrutiny. "Oh, it's much more than that, Mobius," he replied, his voice dripping with mischief. "Isn't that right, my dear?"
You groaned inwardly, realising that Loki had no intention of letting you off the hook. With a resigned sigh, you shot Mobius an apologetic look before turning back to Loki. "Fine," you conceded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But let's keep the pet names to a minimum, okay?"
Loki chuckled, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "As you wish, honey." And with that, he sauntered off, leaving you to face Mobius' raised eyebrow and knowing smirk alone.
As you returned to your work, you couldn't help but shake your head at the unpredictable chaos that seemed to follow Loki wherever he went. But despite the embarrassment of the moment, you couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed in your chest at the thought of being called "love" by the God of Mischief himself.
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hunny-beann · 1 year ago
Text
Worship; Devastation
Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
Synopsis: Prince Loki gets some ideas regarding worship upon witnessing his lover in the particularly ethereal lighting of his bathing quarters...
And honestly, what is worship if not laying your utterly devastating touch upon your lover just to watch them unfurl before you?
Or, alternatively:
Devotion, reverence, and veneration at the hands of a god in 3,800 words or less
Note: Welcome back to the smut fest! Similarly to my last Loki smut fic, I also wrote a great deal of this one very early in the morning, so my apologies for any errors that I didn't manage to spot and edit out. I hope you enjoy! :)
Warnings: Semi graphic NSFW, vulgarity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)
She sat, naked as the day she she had been born, upon the edge of the royal bathing pool reserved solely for her beloved, the warm water lapping gently at her ankle as she leaned back on her forearms, right knee bent so one foot rested on the rune etched lip of the younger prince's extravagant bath.
It felt very Loki indeed, to have bathing quarters that seemed far more like a swimming pool than a tub, and she relished in the energy of the space, each detail reminding her of the man who floated gracefully in the waters just beneath her.
If her eyes were not closed at that very moment, she was certain that she would be unable to help but stare at him, not with the distracting way that his hair splayed out upon the surface of the water, or that his skin all but shone in the morning sun that doused the two of them from the skylight above.
This was not her first morning bath with him, far from it in fact, but as she basked in the sunlight, she still felt herself jump when a familiar hand wrapped around the ankle that dangled within the water, her eyes flying open to find his stunning blues already awaiting her gaze.
And oh, what a sight he made.
There he was, Prince Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief, entirely bare within the warm waters of his bath, and submerged to his upper arms, revealing his strong shoulders, angular jaw, and sharp collar bones, all of which dripped almost tantalizingly with slow moving droplets of water, which clung to his skin in a manner that nearly made her jealous of them.
He looked up at her with an earnest curiosity and something that almost bordered on vulnerability, his grip loosening but not quite fading from her ankle as his thumb began to stroke the flesh just above where the water ceased to lap at her.
Eager to find out what had caught the attention of her lover, she leaned forward, placing her hand atop his own as she tilted her head in a silent question that she soon vocalized in spite of her subtle gestures.
"Is there something wrong, dear prince?"
She asked, her voice quiet and with an almost breathless quality that only seemed fitting for such a peaceful morning.
In reply, Loki simply placed his free hand on the lip of the bath and used that as leverage to pull himself ever closer to her, his other detaching from its wrapped position around her ankle so he could move it upward, fingertips craving the feeling of more of her soft skin beneath them.
Meanwhile, she watched him with a curiosity of her own, taking in with a vast gratitude unknown to the man just beneath her the details of his person, from the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose, to those that rested upon his shoulders, all the way up to the curve of his brow and the way that his black locks looked when slicked back from both the water and the way he had inevitably run his hands through them.
"Not quite."
Loki answered, his voice low and still slightly thickened by his semi-recently halted slumber, though those eyes of his swam with a subtle amusement that betrayed how much he and his lover's conjoined time in the bathing quarters had energized him.
"I simply desired to ensure that I wasn't still dreaming."
He continued, expression remaining slightly awe-filled as he looked up at her from the waters not far below, his once less occupied hand coming to rest upon her previously bent leg, which was now lowered alongside the other into the water as she continued to sit upon the bath's edge, his fingers kissing her damp flesh with a well known gentleness that had her sighing out softly, a small smile finding her lips.
He watched her with such fondness, such peace that not so long ago, she would have thought was entirely unknown to him, and he had believed he would never find nor understand.
How wrong they had been.
And how grateful they were for that fact now that they each knew the touch of the other, the love of them.
And as she looked into her darling prince's eyes she was reminded of that love, even as she could not help but smile at his familiar dramatics, her hand reaching down to curl some of his hair behind his ear, allowing her touch to linger briefly upon his jaw before she moved back once more.
"And why would you think yourself still slumbering, my dear?"
She wondered aloud, half anticipating a peaceful silence to follow, only to find herself pleased when Loki's all consuming voice filled the room shortly afterward.
"Have you ever seen your love illuminated by a halo of morning sunlight?"
He questioned gently, his hands still creeping ever upward, now resting upon her knees as he awaited her response with a patience that felt foreign to her when acted out by him, though she certainly did not complain.
As her reply to her prince's immensely endearing question, she hummed, watching the way that the sun cast its light upon him in an almost ethereal manner, reminding her once more of his nature.
She smiled,
"I believe that I have. Quite often, in fact."
Loki's expression of adoration continued as he watched her fondly, a slight smile finding his perfect lips, curving them upward in that manner his love adored so ceaselessly.
"I see."
He drawled slowly, fingers massaging slow circles into her lower thighs all the while,
"Then surely you can understand why I've been enraptured so."
He reasoned, placing a gentle kiss to the side of her knee as he watched for her reaction, noting the way that she shivered slightly beneath his touch, still not quite used to him, even after years of his hands lovingly caressing her skin at each and every opportunity.
He selfishly hoped, in that moment, that she might not ever come to be, just so he could continue to bear witness to the way that her body, mind, and soul reacted to his affections forevermore.
In response to Loki's gentle words and teasing ministrations, his love sighed contentedly, her flesh reacting as if chilled in spite of the warm water still lapping at her ankles.
She allowed herself a moment to bask in the closeness of him before reaching to cup his jaw again with a smile, tracing the now abandoned path of a droplet of water that had made its way from his hair down to the bridge of his nose, where it had spilled over the side and ran along his cheekbone before ultimately losing momentum and fading to nothingness in the warmth of sunlight, leaving only a faint shimmer of dampness in its wake.
She watched him for a few moments, eyes looking fearlessly and familiarly into those ever softening blues until finally, she spoke up once more, seemingly having gotten her fill of the peaceful silence.
"I suppose that I can, yes."
She replied to his previous statement, fingers moving from his cheek down to his jaw where they traced the sharpness of it gently, as if afraid it might truly cut, or perhaps as a woman in love might do to the object of her affections.
Perhaps so, indeed.
The younger prince hummed happily in response to her touch, something akin to a purr rumbling deep in his chest as he pushed as close as to her as he could manage, both hands moving to her knees in order to place the backs of them upon his muscular shoulders, thus allowing him to them wrap his arms around them from below, his long and lithe fingers finding firm purchase upon her thighs as he did so, pulling her ever closer to the edge of the bathing pool,
closer to him.
And though he was certain that she had noticed, his darling did not complain, simply watching Loki with an amused gleam in her eye as he leaned his head against her thigh, expression almost dreamy as he watched her, taking in the vision of beauty that she was, now doused fully in the morning sunlight.
"Perfection."
He murmured gently, fingers dancing upon her skin as he pressed kiss after kiss to the thigh on which his head rested. And though she felt his smile as he did so, growing almost imperceptibly with each individual graze of his lips, she did not know why until he pulled away from her ever so slightly.
"Although,"
He began to say upon doing just that, eyes finding hers once more, allowing her to see the familiar sparkle of mischief that shone there,
"I do believe this means we have a problem, darling."
His voice was all but a purr now, low and rumbling with a certain level of mock concern to it that made his dearest love flounder slightly, gaze locked with his own as if the two of them were in contest with one another for who could see into the other's soul first.
Not that she could ever stand a chance, not against him.
"You see,"
Loki continued, both sets of his fingers pressing into the supple skin of her thighs as he massaged his way upward, eyes never leaving hers all the while, her body having long since been memorized by his hands.
"Perfection is meant to be worshiped."
He murmured, moving his head slightly to press a kiss to her opposite thigh before he pinched at the former deftly, causing his lover to gasp and jump slightly beneath him, a blush growing evident upon her cheeks.
He chuckled at her reaction, humming low in his throat as he continued to press his soft lips to her flesh, allowing them to linger long enough that there was no question of what his touch was meant to convey.
Gentleness, affection, love, desire, and a constant and heady hunger, one that all but drove him to madness each time he laid eyes upon his beloved.
Her breaths shuddered in response to his persistent touch, and she allowed their locked gazes to break as she leaned her head back upon her shoulders, fingers gripping tightly to the lip of the pool as she did her best to find her voice once more, having lost it upon the very moment his lips had pressed against her, as she always did.
"Are you saying that you wish to worship me, Prince Loki?"
She breathed out after several long seconds of silence, chest heaving slightly as she finally allowed her eyes to open once more, finding his almost immediately as he smirked against her upper thigh, his hands having moved to massage the outsides of them soothingly, keeping them poised atop his shoulders so he could control just how spread they remained for him.
He shook his head in response to her words, tutting slightly before nipping where she had expected him to present her with a kiss, causing her to gasp yet again as he chuckled and lapped gently at her soft flesh with that typically oh so sharp tongue of his.
"Oh no, dear heart."
He purred, spreading her thighs even wider in order to gain a proper view of her arousal, knowing all too well the blush that was no doubt ravaging her cheeks just outside of his view in response.
He leaned in further, ignoring the urge to lay his gaze upon her disastrously beautiful face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her bare heat, smirking to himself as he felt her begin to tremble impatiently as he did so.
He had spoiled her throughout the years, after all, never one to make her wait when she made her desire for him so plainly known. And he was truly quite proud of what a mess he had made of her once so vast patience, because what else did that show if not how wonderfully he'd treated her? How high he'd set her standards simply by virtue of ravaging her at nearly every available opportunity?
She was all but ruined for anyone else, that was for certain.
And if the prince had his way (as he so frequently did), that would never even come close to changing.
He laughed softly against her as he continued, his tongue moving up and down the outsides of her folds as he teased her relentlessly, always so eager to see her squirm at least a little before he gave her what she wanted.
He was not, after all, known for being the kindest nor the most merciful god,
And he could never quite resist the urge to remind his lover of that fact, even if just for a moment or two.
And that he did, ignoring her increasing number of quiet pleas as he pressed onward, spreading her wider before him as he separated her glistening folds to find the treasure that lied just within, which he teased without mercy until her legs shook upon his shoulders and her hands started to scramble for purchase atop the marble adorned floors of his bathing quarters.
Then, and only then, as she so plainly became a quivering mess before him, did he finally meet her gaze once more, relishing the look of her glazed over eyes, heaving chest, and slightly parted lips with a truly immense sense of pride.
The vision of her like this all for him was always so very worth the wait, and he thanked the stars that he had been blessed with enough patience to manage it (at least on occasion).
And then finally, as he saw her eyes begin to focus and felt her body relax ever so slightly beneath the coaxing of his still massaging hands, he spoke up again, answering his darling's long since abandoned question with a taunting amount of ease.
"I do not wish to worship you,"
He began, grinning wolfishly up at her as he pinched at those supple thighs once more, dragging his fingers achingly close to where she no doubt desired them without ever even considering the idea of going easy on her just yet.
No, not when he still had so much left to say.
He let a heavy silence fill the bathing quarters for a moment, broken up only by the sounds of his love's breathing and the dripping of water from behind him, always present and typically soothing in the normal circumstances of his morning bath.
Though today, he paid them no mind,
He had no need to be calmed, after all.
And then finally, just as his dearest love started to bite her lip in an effort to keep from pleading with her prince to give her more, he continued, bringing a finger up to circle her entrance as he did so, allowing him to revel in the sight of her arching her back for him, pressing ever closer in spite of the all too real threat of tumbling into the water alongside him.
She'd had very little desire to get wet that morning according to the excuse she had given him earlier on when asked through pouting lips why she would not join her lover in the bath.
Though, Loki supposed, it seemed as if he had ruined any goal she had of staying dry long ago, so perhaps she cared far less for such trivialities now.
He did not bother to ask, and instead chose to continue his now well drawn out statement from before.
"You see, my dear,"
He started, gathering some of her wetness onto his middle finger as he continued, enjoying the sounds of her whimpering beneath him far too much for his own well-being, let along hers.
"It is much more of a need, I'm afraid."
He purred softly, a false pout finding his lips even as he pushed his finger into her slick entrance, fighting back a groan as she all but sucked him in, always so ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give her.
He chuckled as she cried out in response, her head falling back to her shoulders once more as he began to pump a single long and dexterous finger in and out of her ceaselessly, adding in a second just as she started to wiggle her hips in that silent request for more.
"What a good girl you are."
He cooed teasingly, watching while she shivered at the sound of his voice, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to stave off an embarrassingly quick orgasm in response to his ministrations.
He had only just taken her this morning, after all, so how could she ever hope to look him in the eye again if she came so quickly even just after he had taken her upon his mattress?
Still, the prince had every intention of showing her exactly how helpless she was to his every touch, and rather than letting up when seeing her obvious attempts to hold back from letting go for him, he increased the speed of his fingers instead and crooked them upward slightly until he heard her gasp and felt her thighs tighten around his head from where they still resided atop his strong shoulders.
"Oh dear,"
He murmured, feigning surprise as he watched his beloved struggle not to simply give into her pleasures.
"Close already?"
He teased, watching her expression as she whined and writhed for him, his fingers never letting up even as he stretched her further upon adding a third, the feeling of which sent her mind reeling.
He was so good at this, too good, and who was she to deny a prince of what he wanted? Could she truly hope to?
Loki evidently thought not, and remained persistent, pacing his thrusts and ensuring that he was constantly hitting just the right spots inside of her, never one to give a lackluster performance, even so very early in the morning and so soon after his last.
Speaking of which...
"Even after this morning?"
He crooned, continuing his recent thought with even more mock surprise,
"Are you truly so sensitive, my love?"
He asked curiously, just barely holding back a groan as he watched the woman he adored so achingly arch her back even further, pressing ever closer to him, body so very eager to submit, and mind evidently not too far behind.
What a darling sight she made for, laid out and bare before him.
Now all that he had to do, Loki thought with a smirk, was strip her of her pride.
And of course, the best way to do that, was to remind her of exactly who it was that she belonged to, and just how helpless she was to his touch.
"Or, perhaps, is it something else?"
He questioned, leaning down to lick teasingly at her clit as she hissed and whined pitifully in reply, thighs trembling upon his shoulders all the while.
It was a telltale sign that she was close, though he chose not to tease her for that quite yet.
"Could it be your courses?"
Loki teased, knowing all too well exactly where his lover was within her cycle in spite of his questioning,
"Or maybe a preference for my fingers?"
He continued, watching as his darling cried out for him, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure as she grew closer and closer to the edge of bliss.
He chuckled, and, after a moment of thought, decided it was high time that he ended his charade for the time being.
"Or, my dear."
He began, groaning slightly as he felt her clench around his fingers in a way that made his engorged cock envious of their position, his mind suddenly filled with thoughts of her strangling his erection with her tight heat, her body always so eager to pull him in further and keep him there, begging for both of their releases.
Still, even with such rapturous visions flooding his mind, he managed to continue speaking, determined to remind her of why it was that she could cum so very quickly even so soon after their last tryst.
"Could it simply be how weak you are to my every touch?"
He purred, his voice devastatingly low and his eyes trained on hers as he spoke,
"How desperate you are,"
He continued, thrusting his fingers harder just to hear her cry out from beneath him,
"To feel my hands upon your flesh, and to hear my voice as I fuck you with whatever I so please into oblivion. Is that what it is?"
He growled, watching with immense pride as she threw her head back one final time upon hearing his words, her walls clenching around his fingers as she came hard only minutes after he had begun, encouraging a chuckle from her lover soon afterward when he finally pulled away, bringing his hand up to his mouth to fully taste her for the first time that morning as he gazed deep into her eyes, a moan of pleasure falling eagerly off of his lips all the while.
She blushed in response to this, but did not look away, her pride still just intact enough that she refused to let him get the better of her once more.
Loki remained like that for several rather long moments, savoring the taste of her until his fingers were clean, finally prompting him to remove them from his mouth so he could speak to her once more, though his words were no less teasing then than they'd been before.
"So, my darling."
He began, smirking as he rested his hand upon her thigh again,
"Do you have any qualms with me continuing to worship my dearest love upon this fine morning?"
He purred, his eyes lighting up eagerly when she swallowed thickly, shaking her head no in response just as he tightened his grip upon her legs.
"Perfect."
Loki replied casually, a glint of mischief entering his gaze once again just as a smirk fell to his lips.
And then, with a gentle tug, his love was falling into the water alongside him, pressed not long after to the wall of the bathing pool as his aching and engorged cock rubbed against her, all too eager to finally settle the score his fingers had recently turned in their favor.
It was no matter of course, they had all morning after all.
And an eternity after that.
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the-princess-of-loki · 1 year ago
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Loki²
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Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader x Loki
Warnings: smut, graphic descriptions of smut, if you don't like it DON'T READ IT. There's a paragraph that's MXM (LokixLoki). You could read it without reading that paragraph, but again, if you don't like it, don't read it.
I was tired. So fucking tired I could barely keep my eyes open to see the door in front of me. I jiggled the keys in my hands as I tried to remember which key was the one to open the door of Loki’s and my flat. The work week has burned me down mentally and I wasn’t able to do a simple task like opening a fucking door. At least, I had the whole weekend with Loki ahead of me to look for. Maybe Loki was in a good mood and wanted to give me one of his famous massages. I smiled at the thought. His big hands always felt so good on me…
I finally found the key so I opened the door. I left my keys on the bowl we had next to the door for them and hung my bag on the rack. Our flat was really not that big, so I was surprised when I didn’t see Loki sitting on his usual spot on our two-place sofa reading a book. As I walked towards our small kitchen, I heard laughter and flirting coming from our bedroom. I walked there slowly as if moving by an automatic response more than real will. I felt my heart throbbing against my chest and my ears started to get blocked. I could only hear the fast rhythm of my heart and a piercing whistling.
As I stood in front of the door, the doorknob on my trembling hand, I pondered for a moment if I really wanted to see what was waiting for me on the other side. Was I ready for it? Hell, no. Did I need to see it? My gut was telling me that I should. Just for the sake of not doing a scene and seeming even more pathetic, I took a few deep breaths before daring to move again. As I slowly recovered my hearing, I noticed that everything was silent. Obviously, Loki knew I was there. Why he hadn’t come out of the room to make up some kind of excuse was beyond my comprehension at that moment.
Once I was calm enough given the circumstances, I opened the door slowly. I couldn’t have prepared myself for what I saw in a thousand years. The sight in front of me left me utterly speechless. I think I forgot how to breathe at some moment. I just stood in the doorframe, not able to move or look away. It was impossible.
Loki was there on the bed, kneeling on it, in all his naked glory. But even if that was a sight to be left breathless, it wasn’t all. There were not one but two naked Lokis kneeling on our bed. Did I pass out and hit my head that hard? Was I in heaven? I didn’t know but this felt like a wild version of paradise. The two Lokis smiled at me and both of them extended one of their arms towards me. Only one of them spoke, though.
“Hello, my dear princess,” he said, his smile intact. “Come to bed, my love.” It was more of an invitation than an order but my legs moved on their own accord as if he were the owner. Once I reached the side of the bed, the two Lokis helped me get on it, kneeling right in between them. The Loki behind me started to unbutton my shirt just enough for my collarbone to be exposed. He placed both of his hands on each side of my hips as his lips started a travel from my neck to my collarbone and back. I sighed at the sensation of his warm lips on my exposed skin. “We both know how tired you are, my dear,” the Loki in front of me went on as he caressed my cheek. “So we thought about a little game to wind you down a little.”
“Wh-what kind of game?” I asked, my breathing getting heavier because of the kisses I was receiving from the Loki behind me.
“One that you’ll enjoy, of course,” the Loki in front of me answered, mischief shining in his green eyes.
“Where’s the catch?” I asked before moaning as the Loki behind me started to nibble on my skin. The Loki in front of me laughed.
“You know me so well, my dear,” he chuckled as he kept caressing one of my cheeks. “There’s a little condition or pre-game if you’d like. If you win, we’ll both take care of your pleasure.” That notion itself seemed mind-blowing but there had to be something else.
“And if I lose…?” I asked a little wary, closing my eyes as the Loki behind me tilted my head back to have full access to my throat.
“If you lose, you will take care of our pleasure. Pretty fair, isn’t it?” The Loki in front of me asked after a small chuckle. Still, I wasn’t convinced. Loki’s thinking was too complex for this game to be so simple.
“And what do I have to do?”
“Oh, that’s easy, love. You only have to tell us which one of us is the real one and which one is the magic copy. It should be easy enough for you. As I said before: you know me so well…” he smirked.
And it was easy. I could definitely tell the difference without a second of a doubt. But I was conflicted about my answer. On the one hand, I couldn’t even phantom the kind of pleasure that not one but two Lokis could bring me. After all, only one Loki always drove me crazy with pleasure. However, pleasuring Loki was as much enjoyable to me as his pleasuring me. I loved to be able to drive him completely insane with my actions. Every time he moaned my name in pleasure, he grabbed my hair tightly and lost control of himself was as blissful as when I reached my own climax. So I had to think carefully about my answer.
However, how could I think about anything at all in my current situation? I had two beautifully naked Lokis in bed with me. One of them talking sweet nothings to me; the other slowly unbuttoning my shirt, kissing my neck, throat and collarbone, nibbling them softly and caressing every bit of newly exposed skin. There was no way I could think.
“This one,” I said in a breathy whisper as I grabbed a bunch of the Loki behind me hair. “You’re the real one,” both Lokis chuckled at the same time.
“What makes you say that, my dear?” The Loki in front of me asked with a smirk. The Loki behind me stopped his ministrations on my skin so I could take a moment to at least answer coherently.
“A few things. First, the real Loki would never make it easy for me to guess it. He’d think that I’d think the one doing all the talking was the real one because we know how much he likes being in control. So he would change roles to try to confuse me. Secondly, the copy hasn’t touched me in any private area, while the real one already kissed my neck, my throat, my collarbone and caressed my whole body. But there is one thing that Loki has no control over and that thing is defining to know which one of you is real.”
“May I know which thing is that, princess?” The Loki behind me spoke for the first time since I entered the room. I smiled.
“The way your touch makes me feel, love,” both Lokis looked at me with a surprised expression. They were so cute that I couldn’t help smiling more and caressing one cheek of both of them. “When the real one touched me first, I felt this warm, fuzzy, comfortable and safe feeling that I always feel when you’re around. When the copy caressed my cheek, the same feelings aroused except for the safety. And the real Loki always makes me feel safe, even when he’s angry. It’s always like that,” I shrugged, blushing a little. Loki looked at me still surprised but after some minutes, he smiled sweetly. Although I must admit it was a little weird to see his copy do exactly the same thing as him at exactly the same time.
“You do have me figured out, don’t you, princess?” The real Loki chuckled. “Well, we made a deal and it’s time for us to deliver...”
I shivered involuntarily at the way his sultry voice left that sentence hanging in the air. I felt his smirk on my ear where his lips were and I saw his copy in front of me smirking too. The real Loki put two of his long fingers below my chin and softly moved my head to the side. He joined our lips in a sweet but passionate kiss. I didn’t doubt to return his kiss; our breaths mingled and so did our tongues. I gasped when I felt both my shirt and my bra disappear but I kept kissing Loki all the same. While the real Loki kept kissing me passionately, I felt his copy’s mouth and tongue on my collarbone. The copy’s tongue moved down my torso until he reached one of my nipples. He blew some cold air into it and then surrounded the pink bud with his mouth, lazily stroking it with his tongue. I had to break Loki’s kiss as I moaned and arched my back. The real Loki smirked again as he grabbed my work skirt and tore it to pieces. I was already heaving and this was just starting.
Loki caressed the sides of my body while his copy moved to my other nipple. Loki grabbed the sides of my panties and I could see a smirk on his lips as he tore them into pieces too. His hands caressed my belly, going lower inch by inch. Before he reached my core, he stopped, though. He was, without a doubt, enjoying this as much as I was.
“Are you wet yet, my princess?” Loki asked in a sexy whisper.
One of his hands still wandered around my core while the other caressed its way to my butt. I gasped when he grabbed tightly one of my asscheeks, squeezing it; I moaned a second later when he slapped it at the same exact moment his copy sucked harder on my nipple. My air and lungs weren’t enough to moan out my pleasure. Loki slapped my other asscheek, a little harder this time, making my hips move away from him involuntarily. Right in that instant, he massaged my external walls with two of his long digits. I heard him chuckle through my moan.
“You are always wet and ready for me, my princess,” he praised me still chuckling.
Loki teased my clit for some moments while his copy sucked my nipple and squeezed my asscheeks. The real one rubbed my clit with his thumb and I moved my hips with his movements until the copy grabbed my ass more tightly so I couldn’t move. I whimpered and they both chuckled at the same time. Then, Loki inserted one of his fingers inside me, while he kept rubbing my clit with his thumb. I moaned, tilting my head back so much that it ended up resting on his shoulder. He moved his finger inside and out of me, teasing that fantastic spot with each thrust, all the while he rubbed my clit with his thumb and his copy kept sucking on my nipples, alternating between the two of them.
When Loki felt I was used to his finger, he nodded to his copy. The copy smirked and left my breasts and one of my asscheeks as he inserted the same finger that Loki had inside me. I moaned as both of them moved their fingers at the same time, just teasing me. They kept adding fingers inside me as they felt how I was getting more and more aroused every second that passed by. I got excited as I saw them both taking his fingers out of me completely; that only meant one thing. However, when my lust-clouded mind was able to think, I got worried. They were both preparing to penetrate me. Both.
“Loki…I…both…I won’t be able…” I stuttered, looking back at the real Loki behind me who smiled at me sweetly but with mischief shining on his green eyes.
“My princes, have I ever done something to you that you didn’t enjoy? Have I ever hurt you?” Loki asked as he kissed and nibbled my neck.
“N-no, but…” It was difficult to concentrate on words at that moment. Almost impossible.
“Then, keep trusting me, my love. I will always do what’s best for you and I promised you pleasure, not pain. So relax, my love, and give yourself to me.”
I was still a little hesitant, to be honest. But what Loki had said was true so I decided to do what I always did in these situations: I trusted him and gave myself to him. He always knew, sometimes better than me, what, how and when I needed something. So I just nodded to him, giving him my express consent. I knew that he wouldn’t go on until I had fully and expressly consented. It was one of the things, of many things, that made me fall in love with him. Even for our first kiss, he’d asked for my permission.
Once I’ve consented, both Loki and his copy started to prepare to penetrate me again. They had to move on the bed so they’d be able to do it. I was excited but hesitant at the same time. Loki knew it, of course he did, so he grabbed my neck with one hand to bring me towards his chest as he was still behind me. His lips lingered on mine, his warm breath hitting my face as a hypnotic fragrance.
“Feel me,” he whispered in a low, sultry voice.
Loki crashed his lips on mine and I lost every ability to think. I was only able to feel him, just as he had told me to. After a short while, I had to break the kiss as I felt both Loki and his copy thrust inside me at the same time. I moaned high. I felt a little bit of pain, I wasn’t going to lie. Loki was big enough on his own and now he was doubled in size and completely inside me. Loki, of course, knew it, so both he and his copy stayed still inside me.
“Good girl,” Loki praised me as he breathed heavily. His chest went up and down against my back and the same went for Loki’s copy in front of me. A thought crossed my mind then; a dangerous thought without a doubt. Loki knew about it as soon as it crossed my mind and he chuckled. “Oh, my princess. Who would’ve known you had such dirty thoughts, my good girl? But I’ve promised you pleasure and I’m a god of my word, aren’t I?”
I couldn’t believe it, but was really excited and amazed to see, when Loki grabbed his copy’s neck and brought him forward to him with me still in the middle. They kissed passionately right next to my face. It was an exaggerated kiss so I could see every movement. Loki looked at me the whole time, making sure that I was looking and enjoying the show he was putting up for me. And hell, I was enjoying it more than I thought I would. When I saw their tongues playing together, I couldn’t stop myself and joined their kiss with my own tongue. I moaned as soon as they kissed me back.
Once I was lost in that passionate and wild kiss -really, not even in my wildest fantasies I’d imagined that I’d get to kiss two Lokis at the same time. Loki and his copy started to move slowly, thrusting inside me in a rhythm which made sure that one of them was all the time inside me. I broke the kiss and moaned with each thrust, as they both hit my G-spot all the time stimulating me non-stop. To make matters better in this particular situation, Loki started to rub my clit with his thumb again. I was being over-stimulated and I didn’t know how much time I was going to last. I even started to feel my walls getting tighter around both Loki’s and his copy’s hard members inside me.
“You’re so close, princes…” Loki whispered in my ear in his sensual, breathy voice. “Cum for me, my good girl…cum for both of us.”
Immediately after he finished speaking, I cum hard with a high moan of his name. I trembled as I felt my orgasm in every inch of my body. However, Loki and his copy didn’t stop or slow down his movements. If something, they moved harder and faster. My mind was in no state to think about anything but my body responded automatically to their movements, getting ready for yet another orgasm. I was still trembling from the first one but it seemed that my body wanted to please both Lokis with an orgasm for each. It didn’t take me long until another climax hit me and this time I felt both Lokis cumming too, filling me with their semen so much that it started to fall down my inner thighs before they got out of me. It was, without a doubt, the hottest experience of my life.
Once they both took out their member of me, I fell on the bed, breathing heavily and completely exhausted and satisfied. Loki laid next to me, caressing my back with the tip of his fingers as he too tried to recover his breath. I turned my face to the other side to look at him and we both smiled tiredly to each other, the look of complete satisfaction present in both our faces.
“Would you like my copy to give you that massage you were hoping for, my princess?” Loki asked with half a smirk. I laughed and nodded.
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wheredafandomat · 2 years ago
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Suite seduction
Loki x female reader
18+ | contains mentions of alcohol, smut
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“Undress.”
It was a simple command, an instruction that left you biting your lip as you slowly lowered the straps of your dress, eyes trained on Loki’s as he took his seat at the edge of the hotel bed, legs splayed open as you stepped out of the dress. Your hands found your hips as you stood proudly, Loki’s eyes moving across your body as a small smile spread across your lips. His gaze darkened, eyes moving back up your body as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips before he gave his next order.
“Crawl to me.” He spoke assertively, the bourbon’s he had drank in the lobby evident in the slight narrowing of his gaze, the minuscule mirth in the twitch of his lip. Obediently, you got onto your hands and knees and crawled to him, looking up at him from between his legs as you reached the bed. He didn’t have to tell you what to do next, you already knew but you wanted to tease him. Laying your cheek against his thigh, you looked up at him dolefully, smiling when his hand stroked your other cheek gently, caressing your face before he found your hair and ran his fingers through that. You sighed contently as he did so before his grip tightened in your hair. As much as you knew Loki, he knew you. On all other occasions you were his princess but after a few cocktails, you didn’t want to be his princess, you wanted to be his wanton whore. A mix between a gasp as a moan escaped you as he held your hair tightly, forcing your head upwards. You looked up at him, jaw slack, eyes wide before you broke out into a grin. Loki didn’t need to say anymore, he didn’t need to do anymore, you already knew.
Desperate hands unbuckled his belt as you freed his hard length, placing a gentle kiss on the tip as Loki smirked, letting go of your hair. Looking down at his cock, you licked up from the base to the tip before looking back up at Loki who’s brows were already furrowed in pleasure. Giggling, you kept your eyes on his as you took his cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around it.
“Fuck.” Loki grunted, moving closer to the edge of the bed as your head moved up and down, your saliva coating his shaft. You held the base of his cock as your tongue circled the tip before you took the entirety of him into your mouth again. Your free hand sought one of his as you guided it to the back of your head, wanting his hands in your hair again, needing him to control you. Loki abided, holding your head down as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You were practically choking on him, slobbering against his length as he released you, lifting your head back up again before holding you down again, hips lifting slightly as he fucked your mouth. You hummed against him, sending vibrations down his shaft as he uttered your name. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter the more he used you, the longer he stole his pleasure from you.
He was close, you could feel the way his grip tightened as he bared his teeth. You could taste the salty precum leaking from the tip of his cock as you ran your tongue across his slit before focusing on the underside of his shaft sending Loki into overdrive. His hips moved on their own accord as he neared his release before he let go of you, calming himself down.
“What’s the matter baby?” You teased, hiding your smile as you batted your eyelashes, looking up at him.
“I just need to—” he exhaled, seemingly out of breath “fuck” he exasperated leaving you unable to hide your chuckle “you little minx” he scolded “get on the bed.”
Giggling, you got onto the bed, laying back against it as Loki discarded of his clothes. Settling above you, his lips met yours in a greedy kiss as if he was reveling in the taste of himself against you. You kissed him back just as eagerly, your tongues moving past eachothers.
“I don’t know whether I should be outraged or thankful to the man that taught you how to do that with your mouth.”
Wordlessly you laughed as his lips ventured down your neck before he placed a gentle kiss between the valley of your breasts. Cupping one of your breasts, Loki brought the hardened peak of your nipple to his lips before wrapping them around it. You sighed contently as he sucked it languidly whilst rubbing his thumb against the other one. You bucked your hips, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had built since Loki told you to undress. With his body, he pushed your hips down, trapping you between him and the bed as he circled the other nipple with his tongue before taking that one into his mouth.
“Loki.” You moaned, gently stroking his hair out of his face as he alternated between breasts. You could feel more pressure building the longer he carried on before he stopped and started working his way lower. His kisses met the tender skin of your abdomen as he moved lower down the bed before he was pushing your legs apart. Hooking his arms around your thighs, he pulled them apart before placing a kiss against your needy centre. He pulled away, kissing your thighs gently as he worked his way back to your centre, drawing a circle with his tongue around your clit.
“Lokii.” You gasped, looking down at him when he took your clit into his mouth, sucking against it softly. He looked up at you through his dark lashes as he feasted on you, burying his face between your legs. He released your clit, tongue moving to your entrance as his nose nudged at the sensitive bundle of nerves he had just left abandoned. His name fell from your lips repeatedly as he entered you with his tongue, his nose rubbing against your clit. “Fuckk.” You moaned, hand bunching up into the duvet underneath you as you tried to stave off your orgasm. “L—Loki stopp I’m going to c—” you stuttered as he entered you with two of his fingers as he resumed suckling against your clit. He curled them upwards, hitting your g-spot as you struggled to even breathe let alone string together sentences. “Lokiii” you panted, heels of your feet digging into the bed as he held your legs open, the double stimulation leaving you shaking. “Loki!” You exclaimed, your orgasm hitting you violently as you came, your arousal gushing out of you as he refused to stop, still penetrating you with his fingers and sucking on your clit. “F-fuckk” you moaned, Loki was ravenous. You tried to close your legs, only one of them held in place by his arm but he was too strong or you were too weak from your orgasm. You couldn’t, you were at his mercy. Your vision blurred as you felt another orgasm building. Before you could even vocalise it, it washed over you, coating Loki’s face again as he finally slowed his movements before pulling his fingers out of you and lifting his head.
“I h-hate you.” You finally spoke as you floated down from your high.
“I love you too.” Loki smiled, licking his lips.
“I don’t know whether I should be outraged or thankful to the woman who taught you how to do that with your mouth.” You joked, repeating his earlier words.
“Judging by how wet the bed is now, thankful.” He replied coyly, settling above you again.
“If you think I’m going to let you fuck me now, you’ve got another thing—oh” you began, pausing as Loki began sliding inside of you, your arousal the perfect lubricant.
“You see, one doesn’t simply force open an oyster to collect a pearl” Loki started, bottoming out “you must gently ease it open, be very delicate with it and it’ll keep producing more and more.” He finished, pulling out before sliding back inside.
“You really are drunk aren’t you.” You laughed, meeting his thrusts as you lifted your hips.
“Barely” he replied, eyes closing “ughh, y/n.”
“So I’m just an oyster?”
“Well you are quite stimulating.” He smiled, increasing his thrusts. He was still so sensitive, it wouldn’t take him long now.
The words exchanged between you both turned into sounds as Loki fucked you, eager to cum. You were left trembling, another orgasm overtaking you before there was silence, both of you laying tired in the tatters of your lovemaking.
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Loki after y/n had one orgasm
Tags:
@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @evelyn-kingsley @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @vickie5546 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @somewhereinthegalaxi @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @mushypork @iamlokisgloriouspurpose
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lokisgoodgirl · 5 months ago
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Lies Like Liquid [Loki x Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's typical antics at a party hit different. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Loki x Female reader. Snippy Loki/ enemies to lovers. Mild jealousy. Mild angst.
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The crowd blurred as you wobbled on your heels towards the bar, trying to look casual. Rogers, Natasha, Clint—all of them with their heads thrown back at some perfectly timed joke while music thumped in your ears.
Loki leant against the polished marble counter—the soft amber bulbs around the mirror making his watchful eyes shine; immaculately tousled hair drifting down his shoulders.
He lifted a martini to his lips and sipped gently, the smoulder fixed on you.
One elbow rested on the bar, his ankles crossed, his body impossibly long and lean and wrapped in an expensive suit that was just the right side of tight. No tie tonight, just an open collar with a triangle of milky skin that you wanted to graze your teeth against as his eyes rolled back and a gurgle of your name choked from his throat—
Don’t talk to him. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t look at him; that’s what he wants. But your heart rattled faster as his cologne prickled deep inside your nostrils: warm, spiced, filthy.
“You look particularly agreeable tonight, Agent,” Loki said as you propped your elbows on the bar, eyeing your cleavage carefully in the mirror. The god’s stare traced your profile as intricately as though it were his fingers. “Did you do something with your hair? Wash it, perhaps?” “You’re one to talk, Agent,” you said, tongue lingering on the T.
Out of the corner of your eye, the god stiffened. He hated all that Agent stuff. Resented it. Except when he was curling the word around his own tongue, ready to spit in your directing with his dumb, mind-numbingly sexy voice—
“Nevertheless,” he said, strained, ‘that colour suits you.” “Black?” “Mmm.” “Everyone suits black.” Loki chuckled softly, sliding the base of his martini glass closer across the bar. His body followed. “Not so, Agent. In fact, my brother looks particularly ghastly. Deceased, in fact. You look rather…” “Yes?” Your breath hitched as Loki bent ever-so-slightly to your ear, heat skating down your cheek. “Hot,” he whispered, making one syllable stretch to two. A tingle rushed over your body. You turned fractionally just as the shit-eating, devastatingly attractive smirk spread across Loki’s lips. The one Stark used in the ad reels. The one that the public loved; and the one that you loathed—even if you did have a screenshot of it on your phone for masturbation purposes. Needs must. He might be a dickhead, but you had eyes.
“What do you want, Loki?”
He pressed a hand to his chest, wounded. “Want? Darling, you came to me.”
“I came for a drink—you were in the way. It’s the only way to numb you out.” His jaw dropped a touch, affronted, but those eyes sparkled. Crystal sang as he swirled the fancy glass against marble and leant back, the buttons of his shirt straining as he let out a small, harassed sigh. “You really must try one of these, they’re quite terrible.” The tightness in your chest loosened. “The Starktini?” “The Starktini,” he confirmed sombrely. “Sherry instead of vermouth, can you believe it? What is he thinking. All the money in the realm, and no class.”
He took another sip, draining the glass, observing you through narrowed eyes. “Another one, Mr Laufeyson?” Fresh lipstick, ruffled hair, apron tied too tight, shirt unbuttoned to the tip of fancy lingerie. You rolled your eyes as Loki swivelled to face the waitress. “Please,” he said, low and unbearably smooth. “And one for my friend here, too. Particularly dirty, if you don’t mind.” “Of course Sir; I know the way you like it,” she said huskily, sliding her eyes to yours. You cocked an eyebrow as she sashayed to the liquor bottles further down the bar. “Particularly dirty?” you hissed. “Are you kidding me?” “Are you jealous?” Anger scorched up your spine. How dare he—standing there with his stupid, devastating cheekbones and muscles shifting beneath his shirt as he plucked the stem of a fresh glass from the waitress’s hand. Your eyes flickered to a small piece of paper stuck to the bottom, several looping numbers visible. Loki winked lightly at her as she moved to a pissed off looking Barton, peeling the paper off. “I’ll leave the two of you to…” You gestured in the air.
Loki straightened, swallowing hastily. He raised a finger, his brows rising. But you were already several steps deep into the crowd, pushing past a tipsy Rogers dancing the Macarena to a Scissor Sisters song. The bodice of your dress felt unbearably tight, party smoke clinging to the back of your throat like ash and making your eyes sting. A hand cupped your bicep. “You alright?” Wanda dipped, catching your eyes. You waved a hand, plastering on a smile. “Fine. I’m fine, just Loki being a—” “A delight, I’m sure,” Loki drawled. Even over the music, his voice was clear as glass. Wanda’s face scrunched, her gaze shifting over your shoulder. You whipped around, hoping your tits hadn’t shifted from the impeccable cleavage you’d assembled earlier. “Let me guess, this is the part of the dancefloor you want? Planning on standing here yourself, glowering at everyone having fun?”
Loki frowned, and for a moment, just one, you felt a sharp stab of guilt. He placed the martini glass on a small, round table to his left.
“Actually,” he said, unbuttoning a cuff and folding it up to the elbow. “I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.” Behind you, Wanda gasped. Loki Laufeyson did not dance. And certainly not with you.
There were many things you could say at this moment, do, in this moment while Loki Laufeyson folded the second sleeve up his muscled forearm up with skilful ease. Tell him to fuck off, give him the middle finger, laugh at him before he could laugh at you. Seconds shifted as you waited for the familiar smirk, but it didn’t come. He extended his hand.
Loki’s chin lowered, his eyes glimmering in light refracted from the disco ball, the hand cupped outward unmoving. And so, you took it. Wanda gasped again.
Loki’s thumb slid up your palm, pressing into the soft skin before guiding you gently across the dancefloor. Bodies moved, the room blurred for the second time that evening, but this time, a flutter rose in your belly as Loki turned and pulled you flush to his chest. Your cheek brushed his, hands knotted at his shoulder as the opening beats of Rosenfeld thumped through the speakers. Eyes sliding to Loki’s, you tried to stifle the urge to suck against his neck; absorb the deep scent of him that wafted from beneath his collar.
He began to sway. And then, his lips brushed your ear. “Move, Agent,” he said, deep and utterly filthy. Loki’s knuckles trailed down your spine, palm settling on your lower back and shifting in time with the grind of your hips. His hair grazed against your cheek as your bodies slid together, the satin of your dress water against his shirt. The world slid beneath you feet as Loki pushed you outwards, spinning on your heels, stars bursting in your mind. He pulled you to his chest with a soft thump and the muscle beneath your breasts shook under his chuckle. “I thought you couldn't dance—” “I can do anything, Agent,” he murmured, hands resting on your hips. His eyes narrowed lightly. “Anything.” You snorted, blowing a strand of his hair with it. It floated back, sticking to your mouth. Loki’s fingers slipped between you, pinching it away. His thumb grazed over the plump of your lower lip. “Do you believe me?” It struck you in this moment how inconceivable it was that Loki was grinding against your stomach; that you were shifting in time with it, your hips swaying against the hard expanse of his hips. That you hadn’t punched him in the face yet.
“I believe that you’re full of shit? Does that count?” You half-hoped he couldn’t hear you, but the twitch of Loki’s lips proved he did. God, you wanted to slam your pussy down on the meat of the thigh sliding against your leg. You wanted to yank his hair down and kiss him right on his poisonous mouth as he pushed his femur against your clit; edging you into a shuddering mess hanging in his arms like a doll. A warm flush slid between your legs.
Loki spun to the side, and the world upended. He’d swept you into a dip, his face inches from yours, and his eyes rising slowly from your lips to your eyes. Somewhere, Rogers whooped.
And there it was…the shit eating smirk.
You snapped to reality, pushing against Loki’s shoulder. He brought you upright with a deep crease slicing through his forehead and mumbled something as you pushed through the crowd, Do It For Me ringing in your ears.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You grabbed a Starktini from the bar, necking it and ignoring Barton’s yelling before making your way to the fire exit. The balcony was too crowded. Cold air hit like a slap, rippling over your bare shoulders and up the flounce of skirt. Your fingers curled against the fire escape, forehead resting against your hands. Fuck. You’d let him get under your skin. You’d promised it wouldn’t happen again.
“I lied.” Your ankle gave way, heel snapping through the grate and sending you wavering to the guard rail. Suddenly Loki’s arms were around you, but you flapped him away. “Piss off, Loki,” you gasped, gripping the rail. “I’m fine. Jesus…you scared the shit out of me.” The angles of Loki’s face were illuminated in moonlight: brows lowered; mouth drawn tight. You sighed. “What do you want?” “I lied,” he said again. Now you remembered. “Well, what’s new? It’s your thing.” He frowned. “Well, it is,” you said, exasperated. “Never with you.” His eyes were a storm of wretched midnights, but his jaw trembled. You noted the strain of his shirt buttons, the creases forming with each deep, measured breath. A tremor passed through his features as he said. “Before, when I said I could do anything—I lied.” “Oh?” “I couldn’t hold on to you.” Your heart dropped somewhere around your knees. “Well, yeah, I guess. It was about more than just the dancing though, you know that, right?” “Mmm.”
In the time it took to look up, Loki was standing in front of you; the heat from his chest radiating the space between your bodies. He licked his lips, and they shaped words you never thought you’d hear. “Is it too late for us?” he asked softly.
“Loki…” “A month is a long time to spend with only one’s thoughts for company.” “Hardly. You were on a mission with Barton and Lang.” “Mentally alone, if not physically. You should hear the things they consider stimulating conversation. Do you know what a blumpkin entails?” He waited, a shadow flitting across his face. “Because I do.” You bit your lip, chest shaking with ill-advised laughter, and when you looked up, Loki’s smile was waiting. The real one. And then, your throat tightened. “You took the waitress’s number.” “Did I?” Loki’s voice went up an octave. “How strange,” he mused as a long finger tapped at his chin. “I distinctly remember not taking her number. In fact, I believe it might still be on the bar. Perhaps Lang will find it—perhaps he’ll finally experience the blumpkin he seeks.” “You winked at her.”
Something shifted inside you as the words shaped your tongue; thin threads of hope winding snug around your insides, the lie of your indifference circling like liquid down a drain. Loki shrugged lightly. “I had to give her something. What was I to do? The woman was clearly smitten—and I’m nothing if not benevolent.”
You rolled your eyes again. “Don’t…” he said, stepping closer.
One arm rose against the wall behind you, his skin silver in moonlight. “You know how that drives me to the brink of sanity.” “Maybe that’s what I want.” “Is it?” His eyes flashed, gaze dropping to your lips. “Well, it’s working.” Your chest ached with the effort of holding in the need to hyperventilate. This was everything you’d wanted as you lay in bed alone, everything you hadn’t dared hope for. That he would fight for you. And yet…With Loki, there was always an ‘And yet’.
But tonight, you didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.
Like a dream, you fingered the open collar of Loki’s shirt, grazing a nail across the exposed skin. He shivered. “Darling,” he whispered, and then, your lips were on his. One kiss slipped into the next like words, the groans deep in his throat and the fingers winding in your hair like blazing starlight. “Up, up,” you gasped between kisses.
Loki obliged, large hands dipping to your thighs and hoisting you against the polished outer walls of Stark Tower with a squeak. He fumbled with the line of your underwear, a mumbled fuck it preceding the warm fizz of his magic against your skin. Your fingers ripped at the buttons of his suit trousers, delving for the unbearably hard cock pressing against your cunt. Every vein, every velvet ridge, every inch that made him whimper when you traced it with your tongue. Loki’s breath was heavy, misting against your cheek as he breached with a broken chant of your name. Your head fell back against the wall, his mouth working down the valley of your throat as his hips rolled, filling you. “Loki, god…yes,” you panted to the darkened sky. He mumbled something unintelligible against your skin as your fingers twisted in his hair and the part of yourself that hoped this could be real burned brighter. There was nothing but here—nothing but the press of his flat stomach, the feel of his fingertips curling into your thighs and the seal of his cock unwinding your doubts with every thrust.
“Gods, I never meant to—” You silenced him with a kiss, delving into him with insatiable hunger. I never meant to push you away. I never meant to break your heart. It could wait. Orgasm sparked deep in your belly, rippling like a lit match from gasoline. Your legs tightened around his hips, forcing his cock deeper with an obscene squelch. “Faen, kvinne,” Loki grunted, one palm flying to the wall behind you and squeaking down metal. He bucked up, bottoming out a final, shattering time. Climax ripped through your body like a knife through leather, arms flying around his neck and pulling him close. His belt buckle was ice against your heated thighs, the grind of his hips flattening you to the wall. The god’s groans grew tight; urgent, something new stringing along his back muscles shifting under the drag of your fingernails. “Forgive me,” he sighed. You wondered if he’d stop himself tumbling over the edge if you didn’t. But the time for lies was over. “I forgive you,” you whispered, sucking his earlobe between your teeth. Loki’s guttural groan as he filled you with his cum was the world sliding beneath your feet, breaking apart and starting anew.
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cleo-fox · 2 years ago
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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.
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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.
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divine-knight-hand · 2 years ago
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Now, You’re Mine
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Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Summary: A competitive sparring session leads to spicy times with Loki.
Content Warnings: Little bits of fluff, Loki does a fair amount of mind reading, Soft Dom!Loki, Sub!Reader, oral (f. receiving), p in v (missionary), unprotected sex, a touch of cockwarming, and explicit consent
Notes: I originally wrote this for sarahscribbles’s Birthday Celebration before I went in a completely different direction and decided to write and contribute Worshiping the Masterpiece instead. Even though this didn’t end up as my official contribution, I figured I’d still finish it and post it for you all.
It was honestly a little daunting. This was definitely a difficult write for me, and there were times where I thought I wouldn’t finish it. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy what I came up with!
Since this was originally for the Birthday Celebration, I had used some of the listed prompts for this work. The prompt that sparked the writing of this was "Is that a threat or a promise?", but I also snuck in the fluff prompt “Are you really so oblivious?”. What can I say? I’m an overachiever in all things where writing is concerned. Hehehe!
Word Count: 3,781
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“Umph!” With a flick of his wrist, Loki sent me tumbling to the floor once again.
Once every week, Loki and I sparred in the training room of the tower so I could practice fighting more powerful opponents. I figured that I would eventually sharpen my skills and prove useful on more intense missions. Unfortunately, I typically did more falling on my own ass than actual sparring, so I haven’t improved much since we first started.
Against my better judgment, I slammed my fists on the padded floor. “Son of a bitch!”
“Is that frustration I sense, agent?” Loki stood across the room from me, clearly entertained by my lack of temper. He didn’t even break a sweat, seeing as he barely had to move a muscle to defeat me. He just stood there, folding his arms behind his back as the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement.
I heavily sighed and slowly rose back to my feet. “No, no. I’m fine.” I dusted off my behind as I returned to where I stood right before getting knocked off my feet. “Let’s just start from the beginning… again.”
“How do you not tire of repeatedly falling before me?” He began to close the gap between us in large strides. “Though I find it rather amusing, I can’t help but wonder why you remain so persistent in the face of failure.” He stopped a few feet away from me. Too close and too far at the same time.
I scoffed. “You can condescend to me all you like, but I don’t plan on quitting until I at least manage to reach you.”
That was when it hit me. I hadn’t given much thought to my battle plan. I haven’t had the time before being thrown off balance every time. What exactly would I have done if I managed to reach him? How could I best someone who towered over me, even as I stood upright? Would I sweep him off his feet? Would I aim an attack at his perfectly chiseled face to disorient him? Would I wrap my arms around him and fall into the feel of his body against mine, desperate to never let go? Or would I just be too drunk on the air around him to even make it all the way, stuck in the stupor of my own attraction?
Get a grip! I chided myself. This is Loki, you’re thinking about! Do you honestly think he would feel the same way about you? He’s a god, for crying out loud! But I knew that. I was drawn to the danger of that feeling like a moth to a flame. There was nothing sensical about the way I felt for him, but regardless of how risky my feelings were for him, I would indulge in them.
“Condescend to you?” Loki held a hand over his heart in a show of mock hurt. “I would never. Honestly, the way you fell to the floor just now was truly remarkable. The Avengers are lucky to have you.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I enunciated each dry laugh. “Very funny. Now, are we talking or training?”
Loki was unmoving, instead staring at me with an intensity that made me wonder if he could see straight through me. “You seem eager to return to our little session. Why is that?”
Wow! He’s intuitive. I thought, anxiety buzzing under my skin. But there’s no way I can answer that.
And why not? I jumped at the sound of Loki’s voice in my mind.
Too surprised to muster my own voice to speak, I formed the words in my mind. Loki? Are you in my head right now?
No, agent. I could hear him chuckle aloud as he responded. I’m right in front of you.
I physically shuddered. That is so creepy…
It’s natural to fear what you don’t understand. He raised his eyebrows at me.
“Can you cut that out?” I finally spoke up, shaking my head as if I could shake him out. “I don’t appreciate these mind games.” Nor did I appreciate the possibility that he could have heard me mentally rambling about how he truly made me feel. The thought of him having access to the secret I worked so hard to keep from him made me nauseous, so I focused on the part of me that was annoyed.
“I appear to have struck a nerve.” Loki commented matter-of-factly. “How odd. That wasn’t even my intention.”
Damnit! I thought. Why is he so good at pissing me off?
I appreciate your acknowledgment of my prowess, agent. Loki’s voice sounded in my head again. But, as I’ve said, my goal isn’t to infuriate you. I’m truly curious as to why you’re so passionate about our sessions.
“Ugh!” I threw my hands in the air. “Fine, we don’t have to spar if you’re going to ask a million questions. Just forget it. I’m done.” I turned away and began to storm off, eager to get away from the situation, and pausing only to call back, “And stop doing that talking-to-me-in-my-mind thing! It’s extremely invasive!” before continuing away.
I only took a few more steps before freezing again at the sound of Loki’s voice. “What exactly are you chasing, agent?”
Even as I faced away, standing across the room from him, I felt cornered. “What do you mean?”
“Our weekly arrangement seems to matter to you so much.” He began again. “Anyone would walk away in utter surrender after being so easily defeated the first few times. You differ. There’s a spark in your eye, and though it flickers and threatens to fade, it doesn’t extinguish. Why is that? What are you seeking to gain from facing off with me every week? What are you chasing?”
That was it. I had nowhere to run. I was completely vulnerable. I couldn’t get out of this situation without at least explaining myself to him. I just wouldn’t reveal too much.
I turned back to him, giving myself time to steel my nerves before responding. “My potential.” He cocked his head in curiosity, prompting me to continue. “Lately at work I felt… stuck.” I slowly began to make my way back over to him. “I know I can still improve, so I figured that sparring with you would make me stronger. But, now I just feel stuck fighting with you. I mean, I couldn’t even land a single hit on you. At all. I couldn’t even reach you!”
I stopped a few feet away from him and looked down at my feet in shame. “So, yes, I am a little frustrated that I’m not improving. I can’t help but feel like I’m on my way to being a failure.”
I suddenly saw a familiar pair of leather boots settle in front of my tattered sneakers before Loki tilted my chin up to face him. “I’ll hear none of that. You are not a failure. Far from it.”
My heart leapt up to my throat. Our faces were mere inches apart. Loki’s bright blue eyes kept mine glued to them like those of a hypnotizing serpent. I could almost feel our breaths intermingle between our mouths. His raven hair fell forward ever so slightly to frame his angular face as he tilted it down to focus on mine. For the first time, I saw Loki wear an expression of concern, and it was for me.
When I didn’t immediately respond, he continued, “You are more formidable than you know, agent. I never anticipated your persistence to be so drawn out, but as long as you believe you can grow, then it shall be. I will admit, I haven’t been very fair to your pursuits. Do forgive my hindering of your goals. I simply didn’t wish to let you go once you felt satisfied with what resulted from our sessions.”
My voice wavered more than I would have liked it to. “I- I don’t understand…”
“The only reason you felt stuck here was simply because I made it so.” Loki explained. “I knew that once you received the training you were working toward, you wouldn’t require my assistance anymore.”
“So, you weren’t just trying to make me look stupid?” I was genuinely surprised, especially considering the smile that graced his lips each time I hit the floor. I thought he enjoyed seeing me make a fool out of myself. I didn’t exactly hate the idea, either, if it meant I got the chance to see him smile down at me.
“Gods no!” His lips slowly spread into a grin. “Although seeing that little vein in your temple pop each time you grew agitated was quite amusing, that wasn’t my intention at all.”
“Jerk.” I breathlessly laughed, still struggling to keep my composure. I gulped, feeling his hand still on my chin. Sparks ignited under my skin where he touched me. I wanted him more and more with each passing second.
“I simply couldn’t resist.” Loki chuckled. “There’s something rather endearing within your vexation.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I dryly laughed again. “But, besides you enjoying my annoyance… Why did you want me around so much? You put in a lot of effort just to keep me here.”
His voice lowered as his gaze grew intense. “Are you really so oblivious?”
My breath hitched as he seemed to grow closer to me, despite having not moved an inch. “I- I- I-”
“Darling,” He cut off my useless stuttering. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure you remain by my side. Your presence is invaluable to me.”
Is this really happening? I felt myself growing redder by the second. I couldn’t believe it. Was this Loki’s way of telling me that he loved me?
Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided that making my own confession would help me know for sure. “Loki… I feel the same way. That’s why I asked you specifically for help. I did really want help, but I also wanted to see you more often. Work doesn’t really let us cross paths as much as it used to. Now that I know what it’s like to exist with you, I can’t imagine a life without you.”
His lip twitched up into another smile. “I’m glad we can agree.”
Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a short and sweet kiss, but once I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, he deepened the kiss, slipping his dexterous tongue into my eager mouth. Oh my god! Pinch me, I must be dreaming.
No, darling. Loki’s voice sounded in my mind, and I happily welcomed it this time. This is as real as you are.
I felt my stomach flutter with excitement. This was real! I loved him and he loved me. I was so excited, I gained enough confidence to slide my hands into his hair, holding his face to mine. I felt that if he let me go, I would have nothing left to anchor my soul to my body. I willed our kiss to last as long as possible.
When we finally broke for air, I breathlessly giggled. “I guess it’s safe to say we don’t need to spar to spend time with each other anymore.”
“Oh, my darling pet.” He purred, sending a tremor down my spine. “I don’t need a training session to indulge in the luxury of seeing you fall before me.”
I instantly felt arousal pooling between my thighs at his comment. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“It’s a guarantee.” He growled before effortlessly sweeping me off my feet—no magic required—and speeding out of the training room with me in his arms. I lightly giggled all the way, allowing myself to fall into in the feel of his touch and the mischievous glint in his eyes.
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We practically crashed through the door of his bedroom as we were locked in a mess of kissing and touching. We stumbled into the room as Loki just barely managed to slam the door behind him. He finally pulled me away from him and tossed me onto his bed. I fell onto my back with a very unflattering “Umph!” before propping myself up on my forearms to look back at him.
“There you are.” His mouth curved up into a sly smirk. “Fallen before me, just as I knew you would be.” I felt the beating of my heart quicken at his words.
There was something new about the look in his eyes. Something ravenous. His hair was ruffled from the way I ran my hands in it as we kissed, and his pupils were blown with lust, just barely rimmed by the usual electric blue color of his eyes.
“I must have you now.” His voice grew husky as he spoke to me. “Are you willing to give yourself to me tonight?”
“Loki,” My words were just barely over a whisper. “I’m willing to give myself to you, always.”
Then, a charged silence hung between us, and I felt Loki’s eyes possessively scour over my body. My skin was aflame and I felt my panties growing wet with my dripping arousal as the time passed.
I silently looked him over as well, my eyes trailing down his sharp cheekbones and jawline, and the leather draped over his towering frame, before freezing at the monstrous bulge forming between his legs. I mindlessly spread my own at the sight of it.
“You look absolutely ravishing, darling.” He finally broke the silence. “I can tell you hunger for me the same way I do for you. Let’s not waste another minute, hm?”
“Yes,” I breathlessly whispered. “Please.”
“Begging already?” Loki’s mouth cracked into a mischievous grin. “I’ve barely touched you, my dear.” He let out a low playful chuckle before he leaned in to push me back down onto his bed.
We kissed again, and even as my eyes were closed, I could see the green flash of Loki’s seidr before I felt a fresh draft over my body. He pulled away, and I opened my eyes to see that he was equally bare. My breath hitched as my eyes traveled down his body, taking in each inch of his beautifully toned figure. Between us, hung his large, throbbing cock. I wanted to reach out and trace each bulging vein with my fingers.
I let out the breath I forgot I was holding as my gaze returned to Loki’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Oh, darling~” Loki purred before trailing kisses down my neck and breasts.
“Mmm, Loki,” I sighed. “I want you so badly.”
He settled between my legs with a devilish grin, propping them up on his shoulders. “Oh, how it excites me to hear you say that.” He began trailing kisses up my inner thigh. “You’re already so wet for me… Mmm, I can’t wait to taste you.” He lightly nipped my inner thigh, eliciting a small yelp from me before teasing his tongue at my entrance. “How divine~” His last words were a soft whisper against my cunt. I almost didn’t hear them. Almost.
I let out a soft moan as Loki continued to tease me. “Mmm, Loki… Please… More…”
“More?” He playfully tutted. “We’re needy tonight, aren’t we?”
“Only for you~” I mewled.
A deep growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “It would do you well to remember that.”
He licked an agonizingly slow stripe up my dripping cunt before deepening the work of his tongue, adding his fingers to circle my clit as he did.
“Ah- Loki! Mmm…” My back arched, and I resisted the urge to grind against the friction he was giving me. “Yes- Ohhh, that feels so good…” The transition from a little stimulation to a lot almost made me dizzy. I could have gotten drunk on that feeling.
Loki just hummed in satisfaction as he tightly gripped my hip with his free hand. I knew his fingers would bruise my skin, but I didn’t care. I was focused on the pressure mounting in my core, and how rapidly I was hurtling towards my peak. Bruises and body aches would be a tomorrow problem.
I gripped the sheets beneath me, trying to find something to anchor me to the moment as my quickly approaching finish threatened to carry me away from this plane of existence. As it would turn out, my anchor wasn’t the feel of the sheets between my fingers. It was the sight of Loki’s head bobbing between my thighs as he greedily ate me out, accompanied by the lewd slurping sounds that emanated from the act.
“Loki…” I all but squeaked. “Getting- Ah! C- close…”
He gave my hip an affectionate squeeze, keeping his pace on my aching cunt. Just a moment later, my eyes rolled back, and I came with a moan that nearly rattled the bedroom walls.
Loki slowed, but never stopped, helping me ride out my high before finally coming up to wipe his face on the back of his hand. My legs tingled as they slid off of his shoulders, and I could barely feel them as he climbed back to face-level with me.
“I’ve waited so long for this moment, pet.” He lifted a hand to cup my cheek as he kissed me, and I could taste myself on his tongue. While we kissed, he dragged the length of his throbbing cock between my folds.
When we broke for air, a string of saliva momentarily connecting our mouths, I was left panting. “Loki, please, I need you inside me.”
“Is that so?” He began to slowly stroke his length as he lined himself up with my entrance. “Tell me how much you need me. I want to hear it from you.”
“Loki, I-” I instinctively bucked my hips, desperate for more friction, as his tip teased my folds. “Please… Please, I need you so much. Ah- I’ve been dying for you!”
He pulled me into another kiss, our mouths crashing together as he finally began to slide inside. We moaned into each other’s mouths, and my hands found their way to his back. When I bucked my hips, he tightly gripped them, stopping me from rushing into bottoming out.
I was wet enough for him to slide in easily, but the excruciatingly slow pace he took nearly brought me to tears of frustration. He finally bottomed out, and I felt my walls clench around him as the full sensation registered in my core.
He pulled away from our kiss, cheeks glowing pink under a light sheen of sweat. “Mmm, you take me so well.” I felt my cheeks lightly blush at his praise. “Are you ready, love?”
“More than ready.” I breathed. I wasn’t sure how I was managing to speak as pleasure seemed to be slowly taking over each of my senses.
Loki buried his face in my neck, softly groaning as he began to trail kisses down my neck. “You are more formidable than you know, agent.” He sucked on the sweet spot on my neck, leaving another mark on my body before continuing. “You managed to penetrate the innermost walls of a god’s heart.” His voice was laced with both the most innocent love and filthy seduction. “Now, I shall never have my fill of you, but I will always return to you for more.”
He slowly slid out of me, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of me before ramming his hips back into mine, setting a brutal pace. I let out a loud moan, my voice clipping with each snap of his hips as my back arched off of the bed.
In response to his beautiful declaration, I could only manage to speak one word. “Pr- Promise?”
Loki dragged his warm tongue up my face, stopping by my ear to murmur. “I guarantee it.” The brush of his lips against my ear sent a shiver down my spine, adding to the immense amounts of pleasure I was experiencing.
I squeezed my eyes shut and raked my fingernails down his back, earning a deep growl from the god on top of me.
“How could you be the death of me- Mmm… and my whole life- Ah- at the same time?” I hesitantly opened my eyes to see Loki’s wildly looking into mine.
His hair dropped to surround both of our faces in dark curtains. Loki was all I could see, all I could smell, and all I could feel. The fire burning under my skin served, not as a distraction, but a reminder of the sensations he was able to create in me. As his calculated thrusts grew just the littlest bit sloppy, I could tell he was getting close, and that fact only brought me to my own peak faster.
“Loki…” I whimpered, struggling to voice my warning.
“I know, darling.” He breathed. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
Suddenly, I was seeing white as Loki helped me ride out my second orgasm of the night. As the waves of pleasure coursed through me, I was faintly aware of his cock twitching as its seed spilled inside me. We both let out moans that bordered on screams before coming down from our shared high.
As we both took a moment to catch our breaths, I wrapped my arms around Loki, holding his body against mine. I could feel him still inside me, our combined spent slowly dripping out, and I didn’t want him to move just yet.
“Mmm, darling…” Loki hummed as he buried his face in my neck. “You’re truly remarkable.”
I breathlessly chuckled. “You flatter me with that silver tongue of yours.”
“Really?” I felt Loki’s impish smile as it formed against my neck. “I seem to recall doing something else with it merely moments ago.”
“Alright, alright.” I couldn’t help smiling at his filthy comment. “I’ll give you that one.”
“Allow me to clean you up.” He offered.
Before I could form the words to protest anything that involved me having to move apart from him, he waved his hand, and his seidr once again bathed us in green light.
Rather than the sweat we worked up in bed, we smelled like fresh lavender soap. Though Loki’s cock was still inside me, I no longer felt our cum dripping out.
“Wow,” I reached up and gave his head an appreciative scratch. “You’re just full of surprises.”
Loki just hummed in content, softly kissing my neck until I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. Just before I fell to the lull of sleep, I heard his voice, low and sultry, in my mind.
Now, you’re mine.
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angelremnants · 2 months ago
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You're Banned! l L. Laufeyson
summary : After an ill-timed and highly inappropriate comment made during a meeting debrief, Loki finds himself slapped with the ultimate punishment—a strict sex ban put in place by you. And sadly for him, you’re enjoying his suffering way too much to free him from it.
pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader
warnings : Mature (18+—MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT) Modern SMAU, established relationship, bit of sexting, dirty talk, sexual content, Loki being a horny and desperate little shit, bit of edging, sub!Loki if you squint, power dynamics, flirting and teasing, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.
author's notes : You know, I did have a plan to make a SMAU full fic instead of bits like this, and since you guys are enjoying them so much, I'm kind of really considering it now. I might switch to Bucky for the next ones—I'm still in search of an interesting prompt for him, so if anyone has an idea or a request, it is welcomed.
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Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !
dividers © @cafekitsune .
angelremnants ©️ 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.
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societyfolklore · 30 days ago
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Hellcat
Title: Hellcat
Pairing: Loki x Barbarian!Female Reader
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Summary:  Captured as a spoil of war, you are dragged before the Asgardian victors-fierce, untamed, unwilling to bow. Meant as a gift for Thor, your defiance amuses him, but he has no desire to take a wild thing like you. Instead, he offers you to Loki as a reward. Shackled and bound in his chambers, the Trickster God promises not to break you-but to tame you.
Word Count:  9k (Yes it is this long, No I’m not sorry)
Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI Dub-Con/Non-Con, Power Imbalance, Forced Submission & Domination Themes, Restraints & Bondage, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Possessive!Loki, Dom!Loki, NO BETA A/N:  I FREAKING LOVE THIS ONE!
The scent of war still clung to the air, thick with the metallic tang of blood, the acrid burn of fire, and the musk of sweat. Vanaheim was silent now, its fields ravaged by years of barbarian invasions from the mountains, its people caught between the brutality of their attackers and the intervention of Asgard. The cries of the fallen had long since faded into an eerie stillness, leaving only the flickering of flames and the distant clang of metal as the victors restored order to the realm.
Among those caught in the aftermath was you.
You had fought. Gods, you had fought with everything you had, teeth bared, nails clawing, muscles straining against the bonds they’d wrapped around your wrists. You were more beast than woman in that moment-feral, untamed, driven by rage and survival.
The grand drinking hall was alive with celebration, filled with Asgardian warriors feasting and boasting of their victory. The cacophony of noise filled your ears as you were pulled along, Volstagg and Hogun keeping their grips firm but without malice. The great wooden doors slammed open with a resounding boom, silencing the revelry for but a moment as all eyes turned to the spectacle.
“Thor! She’s been offered as a gift,” Volstagg declared, his voice booming over the gathered crowd. “A token of goodwill from the surviving Warlord himself. A gesture to ensure peace.” They announced as you were pushed in front of the head table.
There was nothing peaceful about you. You twisted in their hold, kicking, snarling, your teeth bared in open defiance. When a warrior reached out to touch you, you snapped your teeth at his fingers, nearly drawing blood. The gathered men laughed, a mixture of amusement and admiration for your spirit.
“She bites,” one of them chuckled.
“She would take your throat if you let her,” Hogun muttered, adjusting his grip as you tried to break free once more.
The torches lining the hall cast flickering shadows over your sweat-slick skin, your hair wild and tangled. You were a spectacle, a display of raw, untamed defiance, and despite the bonds on your wrists and the chain wrapped around your ankle, you held your head high. You would not bow. You would not kneel.
Thor rose from his seat at the head of the table, gaze sweeping over you with the same measured calm he had shown on the battlefield. His voice, steady as ever, carried across the room. “Vanaheim has suffered greatly at the hands of your people,” he stated, his tone neither cruel nor amused. “They burned, pillaged, and destroyed without reason.” He gestured toward you, “Without honour."
He stepped down from the dais, moving closer, though he kept his distance. “And yet,” he continued, meeting your wild gaze, “you fight as though your defiance alone will undo what has been done.”
Thor regarded you with something almost akin to pity before shaking his head. He took another step forward, watching you with that same unreadable calm, and that was when you lunged.
A snarl tore from your throat as you surged toward him, teeth bared, your entire body straining against the grip of your captors. The hall gasped-some in shock, others in delight at the sheer audacity of your attack. The chain at your ankle snapped taut, yanking you backward.
You stumbled, your body wrenched back with a violent jolt. Still, you did not stop. You spat at his feet, chest heaving, eyes burning with hatred.
Thor merely exhaled, glancing down at the spittle that now marred the polished stone floor between you. A slow shake of his head, a sigh that was more tired than angry. “She is wild, brother,” he said at last, turning away, clearly uninterested in engaging further. “Perhaps she suits you more.”
Loki, still seated, watched with a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. The shadows danced in his sharp, calculating gaze as he leaned forward, propping his chin upon his hand, while his other strummed the table with long elegant fingers. His amusement was clear, his interest undeniable.
“What a gift indeed,” he murmured, standing as the crowd quieted. He stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with amusement, the cold depths of them sharp and assessing. He eyed you as one might a wild creature caught in a snare, intrigued yet entirely in control. “Tell me, little hellcat-are you meant to be a prize or a test?”
You hissed at him, your body straining against the hold of your captors, and he only chuckled. “How delightful.”
The hall erupted into raucous laughter and cheers as Thor waved a hand, dismissing any notion of keeping you for himself. “She is yours, brother.”
And so, you had been dragged from the hall, still growling, still spitting, your fate sealed.
You thrashed as they dragged you through the halls, your screams echoing against the remnants of what had once been your home. The metallic bite of your shackles cut into your wrists as you twisted against them, your breath ragged with exertion, your heart pounding with fury. They merely held you firm, letting you exhaust yourself. Let her fight. Let her waste her strength. It will not change her fate.
Each step you took toward it was another step away from everything you had ever known, from the land your people had struggled to protect. Yet you did not falter. You refused to let them see fear. Refused to let them witness anything but the fire still burning in your soul.
You were hauled past towering figures dressed in regal armor, past the golden walls that whispered of power and privilege. Every breath you took filled your lungs with the scent of Asgard’s influence, the lingering essence of gods who ruled with a steady hand, whose intervention had saved this realm from a worse fate. But you did not see it as salvation. To you, it was simply another form of conquest.
Then, you were thrown into darkness. Loki’s chambers. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you in unsettling silence. You barely had time to gather yourself before rough hands shoved you down onto the thick furs covering the bed. The air was thick with incense, its cloying scent curling around you like a phantom touch. The chain at your ankle was yanked taut, the cold iron cuff pressing against your skin as it was secured to one of the ornately carved bedposts.
You thrashed, kicking out, but the restraint held firm. A sharp tug wrenched you back toward the bed, a cruel reminder of your powerlessness. The guards chuckled at your defiance, one giving a final jerk on the chain before stepping back.
“Feisty one,” he muttered, shaking his head with a smirk before turning to leave. The others followed, the door groaning as it shut behind them.
You barely waited a heartbeat before scrambling off the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floor as you tried to bolt. The chain rattled violently, jerking you to a sudden stop just before you could reach the far side of the room. You stumbled, falling hard to your knees, your breath leaving you in a sharp gasp.
A slow clap of footsteps echoed through the chamber.
"Leave us..." Loki’s voice cut through the space like silk and steel, his tone effortless yet commanding. He strode inside, the door locking behind him with a finality that sent a shudder through you. A bottle of something dark and strong dangled from his fingers, his other hand lazily tracing along the edge of a candleholder as he passed, the flames flickering to life in his wake.
He made his way toward the bed, his sharp gaze drinking in the sight of you-wild, breathless, your body taut with resistance. He perched himself at the edge of the bed, setting the bottle aside with a quiet thud.
“There, there,” he murmured, amusement curling at the edges of his voice. His fingers trailed lazily along the length of the chain before giving it an experimental tug, watching as it forced you back ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t want my little hellcat thinking she could just... run off. Not before we've had our fun, would we?”
His words made the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you crouched the glow of golden lanterns casting flickering shadows across the polished floors. You were breathing hard, chest rising and falling, hair a tangled mess around your face, sweat and dirt smeared across your skin. Finally your let out a rumbling growl from somewhere deep in your chest. 
Loki watching you with keen interest. There was no pity in his gaze, no soft words to soothe your fury. He enjoyed this, relished in the fire still burning in your eyes despite your captivity.
“You hiss, you snarl,” Loki mused, tilting his head, amusement lacing every syllable. He let out a slow chuckle, the sound rich and indulgent. He took his time, letting his gaze linger, his blue eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable. Slowly, he leaned forward, his expression one of idle curiosity. “Such a little hellcat.”
You bared your teeth at him, muscles coiled tight as if you would spring for his throat. 
“I do love a challenge.” He chuckled again.
With a deliberate slowness, Loki reached for the buckles of his leather tunic, undoing them one by one. The supple material shifted under his touch as he shrugged it off, the weight of it hitting the floor with a soft thud. Beneath it, his undershirt clung to the lean muscle of his torso, the flickering lanterns casting deep shadows along the sharp planes of his chest.
He exhaled, stretching his arms briefly before grasping the hem of his underlayer. He peeled the fabric away, revealing the sculpted ridges of his abdomen, the pale skin marred only by faint scars-remnants of past battles. His movements were unhurried, measured, as though daring you to look, to acknowledge the power he held not just in his presence but in the body before you.
His blue eyes caught yours again, filled with something both wicked and knowing. He tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Come now, little hellcat. Have you never seen a god undress before?"
He stepped to the far side of the bed, his long fingers curling around the neck of the bottle as he lifted it effortlessly. Tilting his head back, he took a slow, measured swig, throat bobbing with the motion. The scent of strong liquor filled the space between you, and your dry tongue darted out instinctively to dampen cracked lips.
How long had it been since you had something to drink? Your throat ached at the thought, your parched lips tingling as your body reminded you of just how much it craved even a drop of moisture.
Loki’s gaze flicked downward, catching the fleeting motion of your tongue. He let out a quiet hum of amusement, rolling the bottle between his fingers before taking another sip, slower this time, watching you the entire time. "Thirsty, are we?"
He tilted the bottle slightly, letting the liquor swirl before pouring a generous amount into a goblet. Without a word, he bent down, placing it on the floor between you, the dark liquid sloshing slightly as he set it down. His smirk lingered as he straightened, drawing himself back up to his full height, stepping away with lazy confidence as if to give you space.
You shifted, eyeing the goblet warily, moving slightly to keep your distance from him. The scent of the drink was rich, spiced, and it called to you like a siren’s song. Your throat burned with dryness, and despite yourself, you could not tear your gaze from it.
Loki turned his back to you, taking his time as he walked toward the far side of the bed, exuding nonchalance. That was your moment.
You lunged forward, snatching the goblet up in both hands, guzzling it down so fast that some of it spilled over the edges, sliding down your chin, trailing over your throat and chest. The warmth of the liquor hit you instantly, spreading fire through your parched body, but you didn’t care. You drank greedily, too desperate to savour it, too frantic to stop.
Loki’s chuckle came slow and knowing. "There’s a good girl." Your hands trembled slightly, but as he took a step closer, you hesitated, eyes flickering between him and the cup in your hands. The moment he moved, you set it down hastily, retreating a few paces, your body tensed as if expecting a trap.
Loki hummed, tilting his head as if considering something, before reaching down and refilling the goblet. He set it back onto the floor, stepping back again, though this time, not quite as far. His movements were slow, calculated, a silent test.
You hovered, shifting on your haunches, your instincts warring against your need. The scent of the liquor was thick, tantalizing, and your throat still burned. Another moment passed, and then you lunged, snatching the goblet once more, bringing it to your lips and drinking deep. The fiery liquid coated your throat, spreading warmth through your limbs, but this time, it was slower, the edges of your mind turning hazy from the alcohol’s effect.
Loki let out a satisfied chuckle, rolling the bottle between his palms. "You learn quickly," he mused.
Loki took his time closing the distance between you, his boots barely making a sound on the polished floor. He crouched before you, watching with unhidden amusement as you gasped for breath, the warmth of the drink settling into your stomach. His long fingers reached out, trailing up the column of your throat, catching a stray droplet of liquor that had slipped down your skin. He brought it to his lips, his tongue flicking out to taste it, a slow hum of satisfaction escaping him.
“Messy little thing,” he mused, his tone rich with indulgence. “Was it that unbearable, I wonder? That thirst clawing at you, making you forget everything but the need to drink?”
His eyes flickered with dark amusement as he lifted the goblet from your grasp, turning it over to show its emptiness. “How quickly you took what I offered.” He let the cup fall from his fingers, the soft clatter against the stone floor barely registering over the sound of your uneven breathing.  Loki’s gaze burned into you as he leaned in, his lips barely a whisper away from your ear. “Tell me, little hellcat… what else might you take from me so eagerly?”
You hissed at him, baring your teeth once more, but Loki only tutted, shaking his head as if you were an unruly pet testing its boundaries. You instinctively moved back, trying to put distance between you, but the sharp rattle of the chain gave you away before you could make it far.
Loki’s hand snapped out, gripping the chain just above where it was secured to your ankle. With a single pull, the metal links tightened, dragging you forward before you could dig your heels in. You gasped, arms scrambling against the floor to brace yourself, but he yanked again, forcing you closer, the cold iron biting against your skin. The sudden loss of control sent a fresh wave of fury surging through you, but he only smirked as if the struggle pleased him.
He let the chain go slack, but not enough for you to retreat. No, Loki did not need brute force to corner you.
Prowling forward, he closed the last of the space between you, lowering himself to your level, making sure you felt the way his presence consumed the air. His fingers ghosted over your skin, feather-light, maddeningly delicate. A whisper of fingertips along your bare arm, a teasing stroke down the ridge of your spine. Your body tensed, caught in the dissonance of instincts-one screaming to fight, the other to yield to the sensations he so effortlessly evoked.
He was studying you, an insidious look on his face. The growl coming up from you again. 
“You can snarl all you want, little hellcat,” he murmured, his voice like velvet and steel. His breath ghosted over your skin, lips brushing close but never quite touching. “But we both know what happens when something wild is handled with the right kind of touch.”
He was close enough to strike, to kick, but your limbs felt heavy, your head clouded, the warmth of the liquor seeping into your veins. A slow, creeping lethargy dulled your movements, your body betraying you with sluggish resistance. Yet, even as your instincts screamed at you to fight, another feeling curled at the edges of your awareness-something unfamiliar, something dangerous.
Your breath hitched as Loki loomed over you, his face sharp as a blade in the dim light. He was beautiful in a way that should not have struck you now, not here, not like this. The flickering lanterns carved shadows along the angular planes of his face-the high cheekbones, the wicked tilt of his mouth, the piercing blue eyes that seemed to drink in your every reaction. There was something predatory in his gaze, something that sent a shiver down your spine-not entirely out of fear.
His smirk deepened, as though he sensed the shift in you, the momentary lapse in your defiance. His grip on the chain tightened, the metal links rattling sharply as he gave a sudden pull. The force sent you tumbling forward, your hands barely catching against the floor to stop your fall. Before you could regain your balance, his arm wrapped around your middle, lifting you effortlessly.
The torn rags you wore shredded further under his grip, the fabric giving way in places as your body was pulled flush against his.  The solid press of his bare chest against your back. His grip was unyielding, every movement forcing you against the hard lines of his body.
A sharp intake of breath escaped you as you became aware of the aching hardness between his legs, pressing insistently against your lower back. Loki let out a quiet, pleased hum, his fingers digging into your waist as he relished the way you tensed at the realization.
Then, with little effort, he tossed you onto the bed, his grip never loosening as he followed, pinning your wrists above your head. The soft furs did little to cushion the weight of him as he hovered over you, his blue eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
You bucked beneath him, twisting in his hold, snarling through clenched teeth. The fight had not left you, not yet. Your legs kicked against the furs, your body writhing as you tried to dislodge him, but Loki merely chuckled, his grip unyielding.
“Even in defeat, you people don’t give up, do you?” he mused, easily evading a knee aimed at his side. “Never know when you’re beaten. Your people certainly didn’t. They fought and bled until the last, screaming curses at the sky even as they fell beneath Asgard’s might. And for what?”
His words burned, but they did nothing to quell the fire within you. What else was there but defiance? To yield was to accept that your people had died for nothing. That all the battles, all the blood spilled into the dirt, had been futile. You could not-would not-let go of that rage, even as your strength waned, even as you remained bound beneath him. Loki’s amusement only grew, his fingers trailing down, catching on the torn fabric of your clothes. Another snarl tore from you as you tried to pull your arms down to cover your bare chest. But his hold stayed firm.
"In the end you all kneel.." 
He hummed in mock contemplation, tilting his head as he studied you, his touch deceptively light over the exposed skin.
His hand drifted away for a moment, and you had just begun to brace yourself when a dagger appeared in his palm as if conjured from thin air. The sight of it made your body go rigid, breath catching in your throat. This was what you knew, what you expected-pain, brutality, the sharp bite of a blade to punish defiance. You stiffened, your muscles locking up as you prepared for the inevitable sting of steel against flesh.
Loki, perceptive as ever, watched the tension ripple through you. His smirk deepened, but instead of pain, the cold kiss of metal whispered along your ribs, tracing over your side. Then, with a deliberate flicks, he sliced cleanly through the remaining shreds of your clothing. The tattered fabric fell away, leaving your chest bare before him.
His gaze roved over your body, taking in the hardened lines of a warrior’s form-tanned flesh marked by scars, some fresh, others long healed. A map of survival, of battles fought and endured. He ran the blunt edge of the dagger along one particularly jagged scar over your hip, his eye focused as if reading a story carved into your skin. “Oh, you are something savage, aren’t you?” he mused, almost appreciative, almost reverent. There was no mockery in his tone now-just a quiet understanding, as if he recognized the kind of life you had lived, the brutality that camp from the raiding war camps.  
"Your own people handed you over to us as a prize," Loki murmured, the blade continuing its slow, measured path over your body. "A peace offering, they called you a token of goodwill." He scoffed, the amusement never leaving his tone. "And yet here you are, snarling and spitting like a beast in a trap. Tell me, little hellcat, what good has all this defiance done for you?"
Your breath came shallow, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was toying with you, chipping away at the last remnants of your certainty. What else did you have but resistance? To yield was unthinkable. To surrender meant losing the last piece of yourself that still felt real.
But then his dagger moved lower, the edge gliding over the torn remnants of your skirt. With a flick of his wrist, the fabric gave way, slipping from your body in tattered ruins. The knife disappeared as quickly as it had come, vanishing into nothing, and his hands replaced it, broad palms smoothing over the newly bared skin as his hands pushed the fabric away. 
The touch was different from the cold bite of the blade. Warmer. More consuming.
You stiffened, writhing beneath his touch, your body instinctively twisting away, but the chain at your ankle rattled, holding you fast. Loki only chuckled, low and pleased his grip on your wrists tightening. "Now, now." His fingers of his free hand traced over the same paths the dagger had travelled, slow, deliberate.
"You probably don’t even understand what it is I’m offering you," he mused, his voice lilting, coaxing. "Fighting is all you’ve ever known, isn’t it? Pain, brutality… those are the only languages your kind understand. But conquest doesn't have to be something to fight against."
His fingers continued their slow exploration, gliding over your skin with practiced ease, trailing over battle-worn flesh as if memorizing each mark. "Your kind only know war. You think surrender means death, that yielding means ruin. But power does not always come from battle. It can come from knowing when to stop fighting."
His voice was softer now, deceptively gentle, a lure wrapped in silk. "How much blood have you seen spilled, little hellcat? How much have you lost? And for what? Your people are gone, their screams swallowed by the battlefield. Their legacy burned to ash. Yet still, you fight. Still, you bare your teeth like a wounded animal."
His touch grew firmer, fingers trailing lower, pressing just enough to make you aware of them. "Tell me, what did all that defiance earn you? Did it save your home? Your kin? Or did it leave you here, chained at my feet, your body trembling beneath my hands?"
Loki shifted closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I could teach you something else. Something far sweeter than war. If only you’d stop fighting long enough to feel it."
His words slithered around you like a net tightening, and before you could muster another snarl, his grip changed. His hand slid upward, fingers skimming over the curve of your ribs before trailing higher, brushing against the soft flesh of your breast. You jerked at the contact, instinctively bucking but his grip on your wrists kept you pinned beneath him, leaving you helpless against the slow, measured exploration of his touch.
A pleased hum rumbled from his throat as he traced over your skin, his fingers circling, teasing, playing. "So fierce" he murmured, almost thoughtful, his thumb grazing over a sensitive peak. "You don't even know how to yield, do you?"
A sharp gasp escaped you, hips shifting involuntarily as your muscles coiled with tension. Loki only chuckled, his touch growing firmer, more deliberate. He watched the way you writhed beneath him, the way your body reacted despite the hatred burning in your eyes. It was fascinating-watching something so wild resist what it was built to crave.
"Just like your people" he murmured, dipping his head lower, lips hovering just above your skin. "Your body will betray you.." His breath was warm, sending a shiver across your flesh before he finally closed his mouth over you, sucking lightly at first, teasing. His tongue flicked against the sensitive pebble, and despite everything, your breath hitched, the sensation sending a traitorous wave of heat through you.
Loki smirked against your skin, lips curving in wicked satisfaction as he lavished the tender flesh, his hand keeping you still as he took his time with you. His tongue flicked over your harden nipple before he drew it between his lips, sucking with slow, measured precision, his breath warm against your fevered skin.
You twisted beneath him, your body arching despite yourself, despite the warning cries in your mind. Your thighs clenched as heat coiled deep in your belly, an unfamiliar pulse growing with every touch, every teasing stroke of his tongue. You growled, low and defiant, but the sound was breathy, lacking its usual bite.
Loki chuckled, lips dragging over your skin as he pressed a kiss over your ribs, his voice purring with amusement. “Still so eager to fight? I wonder… do you even speak?”
His hands trailed lower, fingers mapping the soft dips and curves of your body. The pressure was maddening, never quite enough, teasing but never giving you the friction you needed. You shuddered, frustration coiling in your muscles as you twisted against him, your breaths uneven.
Loki let out a pleased hum before shifting, reclining onto the bed as though this were all a game to him. His grip on your wrists loosened just enough to move, but before you could attempt to escape, his free hand pressed firmly against your thigh, forcing them open.
A growl tore from your throat as you bucked, but his strength was undeniable. He wrapped one of his long legs over yours, pinning it in place with ease. The shackle at your ankle rattled as he gave a slight tug on the chain, making sure you understood-there was no closing your legs, no escape from him.
His fingers resumed their lazy exploration, trailing higher, his touch feather-light but purposeful. The sheer vulnerability of the position sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you, your body reacting despite the war waging in your mind.
“Will you call for your heathen god while I fill you over and over again?” His voice was smooth, taunting, vibrating against your sensitive skin. One of his hands slid between your thighs, ghosting over you but never settling, never giving you the satisfaction of contact.
Just like he'd said you could feel your body betrayed you, shivering under his touch, the anticipation unbearable. His fingers barely grazed over you, and yet it sent a sharp, hot pulse through your veins, your breath stuttering in response. Loki hummed in satisfaction, his smirk widening against your skin.
“I do not intend to break you, hellcat,” he murmured, his lips dragging slowly over your throat, the warmth of his breath a cruel contrast to the chill of the room. "Only to tame you."
You growled once more, the last embers of resistance burning in your chest, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to protect your more sacred parts. But Loki’s grip remained unyielding, his body a wall of restraint as his fingers trailed lower, slipping along the seam of your core.
A sharp inhale left your lips, your body stiffening at the intimate touch, but all it did was amuse him further. A knowing hum rumbled from his throat as he dipped his head lower, his mouth pressing against the curve of your neck, the heat of his lips sending another traitorous shiver through you. Then, without warning, his fingers pushed between your folds, parting them with devastating slowness.
The noise you made was somewhere between a gasp and a growl, caught between rebellion and undeniable pleasure. Loki smirked against your throat, revelling in the way your body tensed beneath him, your breath hitching as he explored the traitorous wetness pooling between your thighs.
“Oh, my little hellcat,” he purred, his fingers stroking with languid precision, teasing, never rushing. Occasionally, he let his fingers trail higher, brushing against your clit in the lightest of touches, just enough to send a sharp pulse through your body. Your breath stuttered, a fresh growl tearing from your throat, but the sound faltered, for your defiance there was something dangerously close to need in that noise.
He chuckled, dragging his fingers down again, gathering the wetness that betrayed you, before resuming his torturous rhythm. The sensation built slowly, unbearably, your body growing restless beneath him, heat coiling tight in your belly. You bucked again, trying to twist away from his touch, but he merely tightened his grip, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
"Ah, still fighting," Loki mused, his voice dripping amusement. "But look at you. So wet. So desperate. And yet you still snarl at me like a beast." 
Your hips moved despite yourself, your breath catching, fingers curling into fists. You growled once more, low and warning, bucking your hips in a last-ditch effort to be rid of him-only to feel his fingers slide lower. 
"Shall I make you purr instead?"
Your chained foot kicked out as the sensation built, as if you could somehow escape the unbearable pleasure creeping into your limbs. But Loki was already prepared, already shifting, his weight pressing down as he tightened his hold.
His lips found your throat, teeth scraping against sensitive skin before he latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. he murmured against your pulse, his voice filled with amusement, his fingers finally dipping lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside, slow and deliberate.
Your back arched, the stretch sudden, unexpected, your walls yielding around the slow, deliberate intrusion. It was too much, too intimate-the way your body opened for him, taking him in deeper than you wanted to accept. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants as you tried to adjust to the fullness of his fingers pressing deep inside you.
Your muscles clenched around him in instinctive resistance, but he only hummed approvingly, revelling in the way your body fought against the pleasure unravelling through you. His grip on your wrists never faltered, keeping you pinned beneath him, helpless against the slow, torturous invasion of his fingers. You were utterly exposed, spread wide, unable to twist away from the deliberate rhythm he set.
“That’s it,” Loki purred, his voice dripping with indulgence. “Open up for me, little hellcat. Let me feel all of you.”
His fingers spread inside you, scissoring deliberately, stretching you open as he took his time working you apart. The sensation was unbearable, burning and invasive, every movement pushing against resistance, coaxing your body to yield. Your breath hitched, your back bowing as your hips tried to sink back into the furs, away from the overwhelming fullness.
But there was no escaping him.
Loki smirked, watching the way your body instinctively tensed, your walls fluttering as if unsure whether to reject or welcome the intrusion. His fingers curled, pressing against that devastating spot inside you, sending a sharp, liquid heat rippling through your core. A ragged sound escaped you, caught between a growl and a plea, your body trembling beneath his touch.
“Look at how you take me,” he murmured, almost fascinated, his pace slow but unyielding. “So tight, little hellcat… but you’ll soften for me. You’ll take more. You were made for this.”
Your wrists strained against his hold, your hips fighting to move-whether to flee or to chase the friction, you weren’t sure. Loki simply chuckled, his thumb flicking over your swollen clit, sending another helpless shudder through you.
“Such a lovely contradiction,” he purred. “Your body is so honest, even when you lie to yourself.”
His fingers curled slightly, pressing against that spot inside you, dragging another ragged sound from your throat-a sound you could barely recognize as your own. Your back arched, the stretch deep and invasive, a sensation that made your breath stutter, your mind war between the urge to fight and the unbearable fullness of his touch.
He worked you with a wicked patience, every motion deliberate, teasing, pushing you further into the trap your own body had laid for you. Your walls clenched instinctively, as if to force him out, but he merely smirked, his pace unhurried, savouring how you trembled beneath his hold. The slick evidence of your betrayal coated his fingers, making every slow thrust effortless, every withdrawal torturous.
“You tried so hard,” he murmured, his thumb ghosting over your swollen clit, sending another traitorous jolt of pleasure through you. “Yet here you are-writhing, shaking, taking everything I give you.”
Your hips jerked, desperate to escape the overwhelming sensations but finding no reprieve. Loki chuckled, his grip tightening, his body keeping you caged beneath him. His legs moved to pull your further aside, his hips pressing down, forcing you to stay open for him.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice rich with satisfaction. His thumb brushed lightly against your swollen clit, drawing another unwilling shudder from you. "Listen to yourself," he murmured, his fingers slipping through the slick evidence of your body’s betrayal before pressing deep again, curling just right. "So soaked, dripping onto my hand, and yet you still bare your teeth."
The sound of his fingers pushing into your wet core was obscene, each slow stroke echoing in the chamber. The slick noise sent heat flooding through you, humiliation and something darker twisting together in your belly. Your walls clenched around him, trying to resist, but he only chuckled, unfazed.
“That knot inside you… I can feel it building,” he mused, almost thoughtful. "Tight, pulsing, desperate to snap. You don’t want it to, do you?" His nose tracing along your jaw, his fingers spreading again making you feel every deep, deliberate movement.
You choked on a breath, your body seizing, another growl rumbling from your throat. Loki grinned. "Trying to fight it? But you will surrender, little hellcat. You were made to come undone for me."
Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms hard enough to make the skin bleed, every muscle in your body coiling against the inevitable. You fought it, bucking against him, growling through clenched teeth, but it only heightened the sensations. The more you struggled, the more the pleasure built, sharp and consuming, your own defiance turning against you. Every roll of your hips, every attempt to twist away only sent another wave of heat spiralling through your limbs, your body working against your mind.
The tension in your core coiled unbearably tight, searing through you, refusing to be ignored. The pressure was relentless, twisting pleasure with humiliation, with fury, with something darker that clawed at the edges of your resolve. You couldn't stop it. You couldn't stop him. He was going to take everything from you now.
And the worst part? You were going to let him.
You were going to come apart at the hands of the one who destroyed your people. And gods help you-
You were going to like it.
Your body seized, every muscle tightening as the pleasure coiled unbearably tight, a taut, trembling wire on the verge of snapping. Loki's fingers never ceased, working you open, stretching you, his movements as measured as they were merciless. The wet sounds of his fingers plunging into you, the obscene slickness that marked your betrayal, filled the chamber alongside his quiet laughter.
"Ah, there it is," he murmured, feeling the way your walls fluttered, grasping desperately at his fingers, your body surrendering to the inevitable. "You're close, aren't you? I can feel you clenching down on me, trying so hard to deny it."
You shook your head, a growl rising in your throat, but it was ruined, trembling, edged with something fragile. You didn't want this, didn't want to fall apart like this. Not for him.
But Loki had already won.
He curled his fingers again, his thumb flicking over your throbbing clit with precision that shattered whatever fragile hold you had left. The tension broke, pleasure tearing through you in a violent wave, your back arching, a cry ripped from your throat before you could stop it. It crashed over you, wave after wave, your vision blurring as the force of it stole every last breath from your lungs.
Loki didn't stop. He worked you through it, his fingers unrelenting as you writhed beneath him, moaning, gasping, your body boneless in surrender. His laughter curled around you, wicked and indulgent, as if savouring the sight of you completely undone.
"There we go," he purred, his fingers still moving inside you, dragging out every last aftershock, his thumb teasing over your clit again just to watch you spasm beneath him. Your body twitched uncontrollably, muscles trembling from the intensity of it, your breath coming in broken gasps.
Loki chuckled, thoroughly pleased with himself, his fingers still buried inside you, pressing deep as addicted to the way your walls pulsed around him. "Such a sight," he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. "You tried so hard, and yet here you are-ruined and trembling, undone by my hand alone."
He finally withdrew his fingers, slow and deliberate, revelling in the way your body clenched instinctively, as if reluctant to let him go. He brought them up between you, slick with your release, watching with dark amusement as he spread them apart, the evidence of your surrender glistening in the dim light.
"To think," he mused, his tone teasing as he brought his fingers to his lips, tasting you with an permissive hum, "you fought so hard to resist this. But as I said, your body always knew the truth, didn't it, hellcat?"
You lay next him, panting, dazed, limbs weak from pleasure and the lingering warmth of the drink. Your muscles refused to obey, spent from the relentless waves that had wracked your body, leaving you a trembling, boneless heap against the furs.
The fight had left you. You knew it. Yet you refused to acknowledge it.
A flicker of green blurred at the edges of your vision, and Loki shifted, his smirk widening as his pants vanished with an effortless pulse of magic. He loomed above you, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with conquest as he took in your wrecked state-wild and undone, your body betraying you even as your mind screamed defiance.
His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I felt you shatter for me, my little hellcat…"
You clenched your jaw, refusing to speak, to give him the satisfaction of a response. But Loki was nothing if not patient.
With a slow, deliberate movement, he let go of your chin and dragged you onto your hands and knees, the chain at your ankle rattling as he positioned you exactly where he wanted. You didn't even attempt to strike or claw as he let go of your wrists, rolling you over. There was no real fight now.
Loki ran a possessive hand down your spine, his fingers splaying over the curve of your hips before gripping them firmly. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "Since you behave like such a beast, I shall take you like one."
Loki moved behind you, his heat pressing against your back, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, possessive in their claim. One large hand slid lower, guiding himself against your soaked core, running his hardened length through your slickness, teasing, coaxing, revelling in how wet you were for him.
A small, broken whimper slipped from your throat before you could bite it back.
Loki smirked. "No more hissing, hmm?" His voice was rich with amusement, the arrogance of victory settling into every syllable. He gave a slow, deliberate thrust between your folds, letting the head of his cock graze against your swollen clit, pulling another unbidden tremor from your body. "Good girl."
Your head fell forward, the weight of exhaustion, of pleasure, of surrender too much to bear. And then, before you could stop yourself, before you could think-
"Please…"
The word barely carried past your lips, quiet, breathless. You weren’t sure if you were begging for mercy or for more, if you were pleading for release or for an end to the torment of knowing how deeply your body had betrayed you.
Loki stilled, then let out a delighted chuckle. "Oh? You do speak?" He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice dark with satisfaction. "Let’s have you scream my name then."
Without further warning, he pressed forward, the thick head of his cock stretching you open, slow and deliberate. The intrusion was overwhelming, your body hypersensitive from his earlier torment, the burn of his size making your breath stutter into a ragged moan. Your limbs trembled, fingers clawing at the furs beneath you as he filled you inch by inch, ensuring you felt every hard, unrelenting inch of him.
Loki groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he sank into you fully, his body shuddering in satisfaction. "So warm… so tight," he murmured, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you in place. "You were made for this, little hellcat, made to be tamed, made to be mine."
Your body clenched around him involuntarily, the sensation too much, too consuming, leaving you keening softly, your breath shattering in the stillness of the room. You were no longer thrashing, no longer resisting-only whimpering,
Loki rejoiced in your submission, relishing the way your body moulded around him. He withdrew slowly, only to press back in with the same torturous precision, making sure you felt every inch of your surrender. His hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he set a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending fresh waves of sensation rippling through you.
"There now," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "No more hissing, no more claws. Just this."
He moved-slow at first, each thrust deliberate, forcing you to feel every thick inch stretching you open, every drag against your sensitive walls. The overstimulation made your breath stutter, made your limbs tremble. The pleasure was relentless, raw, tearing through you with every slow roll of his hips.
Loki groaned, "You take me so well hellcat." his voice thick with satisfaction. "Oh gods…" you gasped, your fingers clenching the furs beneath you, your body rocking with the force of his movements.
He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your waist to hold you in place. "I doubt your gods can hear you now," he murmured, his thrusts beginning to quicken, deepening with each snap of his hips. "But this one can."
His rhythm grew more forceful, his pace unforgiving as he chased his pleasure, as he drove you further into submission. The stretch of him, the way he filled you completely, made your body tremble with the unbearable mix of pleasure and something teetering on the edge of pain. Every thrust forced you open wider, made you feel just how much of him you had to take.
You tried to adjust, to find some control, but he gave you none. Your fingers clawed at the furs beneath you, your breath coming in ragged pants, but all it did was amuse him. "Poor thing," Loki purred, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Are you struggling? Is it too much?" His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you back against him with each deep stroke. "But your body doesn’t seem to mind."
You whimpered, heat coiling unbearably tight in your core, each brutal thrust sending another wave of sensation crashing through you. "Uhrgh! …" you gasped moans slipping past your lips before you could stop them.
Your body clenched around him involuntarily, the overwhelming sensation tipping closer and closer to the edge. You wanted to resist, wanted to deny him the satisfaction, but it was futile. The pleasure was unbearable, tightening, building, burning through you until there was nothing left but the devastating need to surrender completely.
Loki leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a dark whisper. "Say my name," he murmured, his thrusts growing deeper, more punishing. "Tell me who you belong to."
You bit down on your lip, refusing, even as your body trembled, even as your walls fluttered around him, dangerously close to another devastating release. But Loki was patient. His hand slid down, fingers pressing against your aching clit, circling it in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your vision blur.
"Say it," he urged, grinding deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made your breath hitch, made your limbs quake.
The pressure inside you coiled unbearably tight, the need to break overwhelming. You fought it, fought him, but the pleasure was too much. Your body gave in before your pride did, the words falling from your lips in a gasping whisper.
"Y-you…"
Your body shattered around him, pleasure ripping through you in devastating waves, your climax seizing every nerve, every muscle, forcing you into complete submission. A strangled cry tore from your throat, your back arching as the overwhelming sensation crashed over you, leaving you trembling, writhing, unable to control the helpless spasms that wracked your body. The intensity was unbearable, your breath coming in ragged, broken sobs as your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go. But Loki did not stop.
He groaned, his hands tightening on your hips, his thrusts growing rougher, more insistent as he fucked you through it, forcing you feel ever clench ever flutter your walls made around his cock. Each snap of his hips sent another jolt through your overstimulated body.
"Not done yet, hellcat," Loki growled, his voice thick with possession. He gave a brutal thrust, driving himself to the hilt, his tip pressing deep into you. "You will give me another."
Your body was still trembling from the force of your last orgasm, oversensitive, raw, but Loki did not stop. He kept moving, his thrusts relentless, dragging another cry from your lips as your limbs quaked beneath him. The pleasure was unbearable, bordering on torment, the overstimulation making your breath hitch, your muscles weaken. You collapsed onto your forearms, panting into the furs, your body no longer able to hold itself upright against the force of his claiming.
Loki only smirked, his grip unyielding as he held you in place, making sure you felt every deep stroke, every possessive roll of his hips. "That's it," he purred, voice rich with satisfaction. "No more fight left in you, is there? Just this-just me."
Your walls clenched involuntarily around him, the relentless friction taking you apart, your will, your soul fracturing, every thrust sending a fresh pulse of heat spiralling through you. Your body was betraying you again, the pressure already building, the cruel edge of another climax creeping closer.
Loki chuckled darkly, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "Oh, you will give me another, little hellcat. I will take you apart again and again until there is no thought of defiance, no memory of resistance-only me."
His thrusts never slowed, never wavered, driving deeper, harder, until all you could do was gasp, your fist twisting up in the furs beneath you. Your body no longer fought him-it sought him. Each desperate clench of your walls, each helpless moan torn from your throat only spurred him on, his pace punishing, possessive.
Your limbs shook while you mewled, your mind hazy, drowning in the pleasure he forced upon you. Where had pleasure like this been? Nothing had felt like this-not the rush of battle, not the joy of victory. Nothing compared to this. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t remember why you had ever tried to resist him. There was nothing but him-his touch, his voice, his relentless claim over your body and soul.
The pressure built again, cruel and unrelenting, another climax cresting far too soon, but there was no stopping it. Your body craved him now, needed him like air, like sustenance, and the realization shattered the last vestiges of your will.
A strangled cry ripped from your lips, your back arching as another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body convulsing around him, tightening, drawing him deeper, surrendering completely. Your voice was raw, broken.
"LOKI," you gasped, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless, desperate prayer. The pleasure tore through you in a relentless surge, dragging you under, leaving you helpless beneath its weight. Your walls fluttered around him, pulsing, milking every inch of him as your muscles locked and your breath hitched, caught between a sob and a moan. The sensation was too much, too consuming, sending sharp jolts of overstimulation rippling through your body.
Your body shaking, but there was nothing-only him. His scent, his body, his merciless rhythm. You shattered in his grasp, boneless and wrecked, pleasure surging through every nerve as your climax sent fresh spasms through you, your legs shaking as if they threaten to give out.
Loki's breath hitched, a sharp exhale breaking through his usual control. "That’s it," he groaned, voice thick with possession, "Take it. Take all of me."
He thrust deeper, his movements becoming erratic, rougher as he chased his own release, every stroke driving the sensation higher, pushing you past any hope of resistance. "You feel that?" he growled, fingers tightening around your hips. "You want this, you need me now." His voice was strained, fraying at the edges, his own pleasure consuming him as your body clenched around him, dragging him to the brink. His grip on your hips unrelenting. "Mine," he rasped, his voice dark and hoarse, his rhythm faltering as he finally lost himself in you. His thrusts grew erratic, his breath turning ragged as your body clenched around him, dragging him closer to his own end. His fingers dug into your flesh, his control fraying as he drove into you harder, deeper, chasing his own pleasure with the same ruthless intensity that had shattered you.
Loki's breath catching as his closing down like a vice, his body tensing, and then with a deep, guttural groan, he spilled into you, his seed flooding deep inside, hot and unrelenting, marking you as his own. He buried himself to the hilt, holding you firm, refusing to let you escape the finality of his claim. "You belong to me now," he murmured against your skin, his breath ragged, his pleasure still echoing through his limbs. But still, he did not let go. Even as his body shuddered, even as he pressed in deep one final time, he kept you close, his hands possessive, his breath hot against your damp skin.
"So docile now.." he rasped, his voice rough with exertion, his lips ghosting over your shoulder as he held you through the aftershocks, whimpering keens coming from you.
When he finally withdrew, you collapsed, your body trembling, boneless. His seed and your nectar spilled out of you, running over your skin to make a sticky mess on the furs beneath you. The evidence of what he had done to you, of how completely he had claimed you, was undeniable.
Loki leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "Such a good little thing," he murmured, his voice filled with the purrs bought from his own sated need. With a flick of his fingers, the shackle around your ankle unlocked, the metal slipping away with a quiet clink. Not because you were free-but because you would not run now. There was no need for such a restraint. 
His hand moved to your hair, stroking through the sweat damp strands as he indulged in the warmth of your ruined form against him. He curled himself around you, his touch possessive, his presence inescapable.
"Rest, little hellcat," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "You belong to me now."
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