#loki x female reader smut

[angelremnants]

A TALES OF.. l Jasmins and Prayers

OR.. Still seething with frustration from what had transpired in the cave, Loki storms into his room while cursing your damned dress that lingered in his mind. The tension inside him grows as he struggles to maintain control, and the white jasmin petals floating in his bath only heighten the ache. Caught in a whirlwind of temptation and self-loathing, he finds himself confronted by the dangerous path his thoughts have taken—and, more urgently, by the overwhelming need to act on them.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature themes (18+—MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), Loki-centric, emotional turmoil, graphic sexual content, gratification (male masturbation), twisted fantasies running wild, oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it!), themes of norse lore and worship, edging, degradation & praise kink, power play, dom!Loki/sub!reader, strong language.

word count : 15.1k

author's notes : Trust me when I say that I was biting my nail the whole time I was writing this—then again, I was also listening to Kiss Land on loop. The man is too hot for my well-being, Your Honor.

This is a continuation of A Tales Of Tides and Mishaps—you can also read this separately, but I'd recommend reading the first part to understand the context. This is the first time I've ever written something NSFW, so please do let me know how I did.

(ao3 version)

The torches lining the grand corridors of the palace flickered and hissed against the weight of the evening air, their golden glow casting restless shadows on the towering marble walls. The echo of footsteps—a sharp, deliberate rhythm—carried through the vast halls, announcing his approach. Loki moved swiftly, his cape billowing behind him like the rippling edge of a storm cloud, the emerald and black of his attire catching the light with each stride.

The palace was quieter at this hour, subdued under the veil of twilight, yet it was far from peaceful. Whispers of court intrigue hung in the air like smoke, weaving through every corner of Asgard’s opulent halls. It was a place that thrived on appearances, on masks as intricate as the golden carvings that adorned the throne room doors. Loki was no stranger to this game. He played it better than most—deftly, effortlessly, and always with an edge that dared others to challenge him.

Tonight, however, something gnawed at the edges of his mind, unsettling his usual composure. The weight of unspoken words lingered on his tongue, and the echo of a gaze—not his own—followed him like a shadow. He had faced gods and monsters, chaos and ruin, yet there was something about the quiet tension of that earlier encounter that refused to let him go.

The grand corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, the silence amplifying every subtle sound—the faint rustle of his cape, the barely perceptible sigh of the wind brushing against the windows, and the distant murmur of voices from somewhere deeper within the palace. Loki barely registered any of it. His focus remained inward, on the fire still simmering beneath his carefully constructed facade.

It had been a fleeting moment, no more than a handful of exchanged words, but it had been enough to unearth something he had long buried—a vulnerability he could not afford, not now, not ever. And yet, there it was, clawing at him with an unrelenting persistence.

The throne room loomed ahead, its doors partially ajar, spilling warm light into the corridor. A faint hum of voices drifted out, the low cadence of his parents and their guest among them. Loki slowed his pace, his expression hardening as his gaze lingered on the doors.

He could walk in. His presence would be noticed, his words sharp enough to cut through whatever discussion [Y/N] was undoubtedly steering with her usual reckless charm. He could force himself into the center of it all, just as he always did—commanding attention, manipulating the narrative, and ensuring that no one, not even his mother, could look past him.

And yet, Loki hesitated.

The previous fire burned hotter now, threatening to consume him if he did not retreat. He turned on his heel, his movements swift and precise, and strode away from the throne room. Whatever tension awaited him within those gilded walls would have to wait. Right now, he needed to be anywhere else.

The corridors seemed darker now, the torchlight dimmer as he navigated the familiar path to his chambers. Each step brought him closer to the solace of solitude, to the space where he could strip away the mask he wore so effortlessly and face the tempest within.

His mind raced, the unease gnawing at him with increasing intensity. He had tried to ease the tension—an impromptu training session in the palace's sparring chambers had seemed like the perfect solution. The clash of blades and the heavy exertion of physical combat usually grounded him, soothed the simmering anger that had no outlet. But tonight, even the sharp sting of combat had failed to settle the fire within him. His movements had been fluid and practiced, and yet, the burning frustration lingered—nothing had worked.

As he reached his room, Loki paused for a fraction of a second, his hand resting on the cold metal of the door handle. The thoughts he had tried to suppress surged again, sharper this time, cutting through his defenses like a blade. With a sharp exhale, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the heavy wood creaking as it swung shut behind him.

The silence of his chambers was a stark contrast to the noise in his head. The air was still, undisturbed, save for the faint scent of cedar and leather that always lingered here. Yet, even in this sanctuary, he could not escape the weight of her presence, the echo of her voice, and the pull she had over him.

Tonight, Loki realized, no amount of distance would be enough to silence the chaos she had left in her wake.

⠀

The door shut behind him with a finality that seemed to press against his chest. Loki’s chambers were dimly lit, the golden light of a single lantern on his desk flickering faintly against the polished surfaces of dark wood and stone. The quiet hum of Asgard beyond his walls was muted here, but the storm inside his mind was deafening.

He took a step forward, shrugging off his cape and letting it fall onto the back of a chair. The fabric slid noiselessly to the floor, but he didn’t bother retrieving it. His boots echoed softly on the smooth stone floor as he crossed the room, every movement deliberate yet restless.

He paused near the tall windows, the view of the city below sprawling in shimmering lights. For a moment, he allowed himself to stare out at it, his sharp features etched in the pale glow of the moon. The beauty of Asgard, timeless and magnificent, failed to reach him tonight.

Instead, his mind lingered on the moment he had fled from. Her gaze, steady and unrelenting, had burned through the walls he had spent centuries perfecting. The way she had spoken to him, her tone laced with something he couldn’t quite place, had stirred something dangerous within him—something he had tried to bury beneath layers of wit and cruelty.

Loki’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He could still hear her voice, the faintest trace of challenge, or perhaps curiosity, woven through it. She had looked at him in a way that made his thoughts crumble, and for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, he hadn’t hated it. No, what he hated was how much he had wanted more of it.

It made no sense. He didn’t crave closeness, didn’t long for understanding—those were weaknesses he had abandoned long ago. But this? This was different. This was something he couldn’t name, and it terrified him as much as it thrilled him.

The tension that coiled in his chest now was almost suffocating. His body betrayed him, heat pooling low in his abdomen as he fought to chase the thought away. He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair as if the act could dispel the intrusive images crowding his mind. He could still see her in his mind’s eye, the way her lips had curved, the way her hands had moved as she spoke. Would her hands feel as soft as they appeared? Would her lips taste as sweet as they seemed?

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, but the images only became more vivid, more intrusive. Her laughter, light and warm, played on repeat in his memory, tugging at him in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in ages. And her touch—he could almost imagine it now, her fingers grazing his skin, her breath mingling with his. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, one he couldn’t suppress.

“Foolish,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and bitter. “Utterly foolish.”

But even as he berated himself, his body betrayed him. His pulse quickened, his breathing shallow as the ache beneath his skin grew harder to ignore. He felt her everywhere—in the warm air that wrapped around him, in the faint flicker of the lantern’s light, in the silence that hung heavy in his chambers. She wasn’t here, but it felt as though she had seeped into the very fabric of his being, her presence undeniable and inescapable.

Loki began to pace, his steps measured but restless, like a predator stalking the confines of a cage. His movements were sharp, the tension in his frame radiating with every step he took. His hands itched with the need to do something, anything, to dispel the storm inside him. They brushed against the buttons of his tunic, and with a frustrated sigh, he began unfastening them. His movements were quick and almost angry, as though shedding the layers of fabric could rid him of the thoughts that clung to his mind.

The cool air of his chambers kissed his skin as he pulled the tunic from his body, but it did little to extinguish the fire raging within. He tossed the garment aside carelessly, his breath coming faster now. His eyes darted back to the window, to the city below, but the view offered no solace. All he could see was her, all he could feel was the pull of her, and it was maddening.

Loki leaned heavily against the windowsill, his palms pressed against the cool stone as he stared out into the night. The lights of Asgard below shimmered in a haunting dance, indifferent to the turmoil within him.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though seeking some answer from the vast, indifferent universe.

The question hung in the air, unanswered, like a bitter curse, and Loki squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the surge of emotions threatening to drown him. The need to control was a constant in his life, but now, it was slipping through his fingers like sand. He couldn't make sense of any of this. Why her? Why was his mind consumed by someone so... insignificant? Someone who could never understand the weight of the worlds he carried or the gods he had to contend with.

His frustration surged again, building like a pressure that had nowhere to go. He slammed his fist into the nearest table, but it wasn’t enough. The magic thrummed beneath his skin, begging for release, demanding action. And in a moment of unbridled rage, his hands flared with green energy, bright and violent, slicing through the room like a storm tearing through the air. A flash of blinding light erupted, and before he could even register what was happening, his magic shattered the nearby mirror, sending shards of glass scattering across the floor in a chaotic spray.

The sharp sound of cracking glass filled the room, and for a long moment, Loki stood frozen, chest heaving as he stared at the destruction. He had lost control. Again. The realization hit him like a wave of cold water. You’ve let it consume you. A mortal. And this is what it leads to.

A deep sigh escaped him as the weight of the situation began to sink in. He was not a man to let his emotions dictate his actions. But there it was, the undeniable truth—her effect on him was far more than it should have been. The intensity of his feelings, his desire, his frustration—they were more than he could stand. And here he was, a god, destroying things that held no real importance in the grand scheme of things.

His hands trembled, not with weakness but with the uncontrollable surge of magic. He closed his eyes, his breath shaky as he reached out with his magic again, this time not in destruction but in self-repair. With a wave of his hand, the pieces of shattered glass began to float back together, the cracks mending themselves, the mirror reassembling as if it had never been broken at all.

Once the room was quiet again, Loki stood still for a long moment, his fingers flexing as he allowed the tension to drain out of him, though it was impossible to completely erase it. The ache still gnawed at his insides, relentless and unforgiving. His breath came out in a slow exhale as he straightened his posture, fixing the collar of his tunic and wiping the last traces of anger from his expression.

He couldn’t stay here, surrounded by the evidence of his volatile nature. I need to cool off. He needed to distance himself from the fire that raged inside him. And perhaps a bath would do that—remove the tension from his body, quell the heat that seemed to pulse beneath his skin.

With a final exasperated sigh, Loki turned toward the door, his movements purposeful, though his mind still felt like a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and desires. This will pass, he thought, trying to convince himself. It’s only a fleeting distraction.

But deep down, Loki knew that she was no fleeting distraction. He had already allowed her to slip too far into his thoughts. And he hated himself for it. Yet, the ache remained, and all he could do was seek solace in the solitude of a hot bath, hoping that somehow, the water would cleanse him—if only for a moment—from the chaos she had stirred within him.

As he pushed open the heavy wooden door to the bathing room, a cool breeze greeted him, the scent of lavender and cedarwood drifting through the air, mingling with the faint scent of stone and ancient marble.

The room before him was a sanctuary, a perfect reflection of Asgardian elegance—spacious, luxurious, and imbued with a sense of tranquility that seemed to pulse from the very walls. The floor was polished white marble, veins of gold tracing through the stone like lightning trapped within, glowing faintly in the low light. Tall, arched windows lined one side, offering a view of the vast garden outside, though the curtains were drawn, leaving only the soft glow of magical lanterns to illuminate the space.

At the center of the room sat a large, circular bathing tub, crafted from gleaming obsidian stone. It was deep, large enough to engulf him entirely, a perfect retreat for someone of his status. The water within was an inviting shade of blue, shimmering with an ethereal glow that suggested it had been heated by some unseen magic, its surface smooth and still, reflecting the light above.

Loki paused for a moment in the doorway, letting the serenity of the room wash over him. The tension that had gripped him so tightly seemed to ease just slightly, though the ache in his chest remained. His thoughts swirled back to her—her eyes, her voice, the way she had looked at him. He couldn’t escape it, couldn’t shake it, and it gnawed at him with every breath.

With a sharp exhale, Loki closed the door behind him and turned to face the room fully. He flicked his fingers, a subtle wave of magic rippling through the air, and the lanterns brightened, their light now casting soft pools of warmth across the marble floor. A gentle mist filled the room, adding an element of tranquility, as though the very atmosphere was designed to soothe his frazzled nerves.

His gaze moved to the mirror above a stone counter, where his reflection stared back at him, eyes intense, troubled. A god, reduced to this. His hands moved to the fastening of his tunic, slow and methodical, as though the very act of undressing held some measure of control. 

Loki's movements radiated a sensual confidence, each action steeped in an intoxicating blend of precision and allure. He took his time, weaving an intimate dance with the fabric of his clothing, each piece falling to the floor like a whispered secret—soft, intentional, and laden with significance. He navigated the dimly lit room, the soft glow of flickering candles casting playful shadows that danced along the walls. He wasn’t in a rush; there was an artistry to his undressing, each piece of clothing becoming a symbol of the facade he wore, now being shed in this private sanctum.

As the fabric of his shirt slipped off his shoulders, it fell to the floor with a whisper, a soft thud against the wooden planks, almost reverent in its descent. The air was thick with a tension that mirrored the slow cadence of his movements, as though he was peeling away layers not just of cloth, but of burden. The shirt landed, joining a delicate mosaic of who he could be—each article holding memories, masks, realities.

Next came his trousers, the fabric snaking down his legs, revealing the sculpted lines of his body illuminated in the dancing candlelight. Muscles taut beneath pale skin, he moved in a way that was both sensuous and fierce, the shadows playing across his form, creating images of both beauty and danger. As the heat of the moment surged through him, he became acutely aware of his body’s response, the way his muscles tensed with anticipation, each sinew straining beneath the surface. A flicker of arousal sparked within him, causing his hardness to awaken, a subtle yet undeniable shift that added to the intoxicating energy swirling around him. He paused for a fleeting moment, taking in the reflection of his body, the duality of godhood and vulnerability coiling within him, a tension rippling just beneath the surface, a potent mix of the primal and the divine swirling together in the glow of the flickering light.

Yet, amid this heady mix of sensations, a sliver of disappointment crept in, gnawing at him like an unwelcome specter. He felt almost ashamed of his reaction, wondering how he could be so easily swayed when he prided himself on his control. It was merely the stress and the biting cold that wrapped around him, he assured himself, drawing deep and steadying breaths to dispel the tumult within.

In a final, almost reluctant motion, he let the last vestiges of his clothing fall away, relinquishing that last act of defiance. Standing there in the barely-there illumination, he felt the cool air wrap around him like a lover’s embrace, tender yet precise—inviting yet cautious. His skin prickled at the contrast, the air a stark reminder of both exposure and freedom.

With his gaze drawn to the tub—water rippling softly, steam curling sensuously into the air—he felt an anticipation unfurl within him. The promise of warmth beckoned, a siren’s call for solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. Yet, there lingered in his heart a feral tug, an instinctive hesitation, a wildness that resisted the notion of surrendering to something so simple as water. It was a battle within, between the aching need for release and the primal urge to remain untamed, unsurrendered. There was a beauty in this struggle, the rawness of his being laid bare in the stillness, poised on the precipice of either yielding to warmth or holding fast to the tempest that raged just beneath his skin.

But he was a god of control, and this was necessary. Just a moment of peace.

His magic swirled around him again, a green glow radiating from his hands as he guided the water to shift, the surface rippling softly before calming once more. He wove intricate spells, adjusting the temperature, ensuring that the water was just the right warmth—neither too hot nor too cold, but perfectly comfortable, a balm for his strained muscles and his mind.

⠀

Loki’s fingers hovered just above the water, watching the gentle ripples his magic created, feeling the subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. With a final, sharp flick of his wrist, the water settled into perfect stillness, the surface smooth as glass once again.

A slow, almost imperceptible sigh left his lips, and he stepped forward. His body, tense from the moment before, finally released its last vestiges of resistance as he lowered himself into the tub, the cool water meeting his skin with a comforting embrace. The water rose around him, enveloping him with its warmth, soothing the ache that had burned within him for far too long.

Loki leaned back, his head resting against the edge of the tub, eyes closed for a moment as he let the water cradle him. The tension in his shoulders, his chest, and his legs seemed to dissolve as the heat seeped into his muscles, coaxing them to relax. The water, now lapping gently at the sides of the tub, seemed to hum with its own energy, resonating with his magic.

But still, the thought of her lingered, persistent as the heat in his body. He couldn’t escape it—not even in the quiet solitude of the bath. His fingers, tracing the surface of the water, clenched for a brief moment, his nails scraping softly against the ceramic of the tub. The conflicting feelings of anger, frustration, and desire—they all bubbled within him, mixing in a stew he could neither ignore nor understand.

For now, he would let the water soothe him. But deep down, Loki knew that the tension, the ache—it was only temporarily quelled. Like the magic that swirled through his veins, the thoughts of her would return, relentless as ever.

He tried to focus on the soothing embrace of the bath, the gentle ripples caressing his skin. His breath slowed as he let the water hold him, but even then, in this sanctuary of water and solitude, the thought of her crept back into his mind.

Her face, so close to his in the cave, flashed before his eyes. The way her breath had quickened, the flicker of something more than just a shared moment of tension between them. The warmth of her body, the steady pulse beneath her skin, the way her gaze had lingered on him. The hunger, the unspoken invitation. It haunted him.

Loki’s eyes snapped open, and his hands clenched around the edge of the tub, his pulse quickening as an image of her lingered—her lips so close to his, the soft touch of her hand against his chest. The thought of her in such proximity, her scent mingling with his own, sent a shiver down his spine.

No.

The word was a bitter hiss in his mind, the sharpest of rebukes. She’s mortal, he reminded himself, though it did little to quell the heat that surged within him.

His breath grew shallow, his pulse drumming in his ears as the desire swelled, thick and unyielding. It filled his chest, squeezing, suffocating. He couldn't control it—not when all he could see, all he could feel, was her.

Loki's eyes clenched shut as the thought of her intensified. His stomach twisted with frustration, his body aching with need he had no desire to acknowledge. He couldn’t stay here, couldn’t let this consume him—not now, not in this moment of fragile peace.

With a sharp, exasperated breath, Loki plunged himself beneath the water, his magic swirling in the depths as he submerged his entire form, letting the cool embrace of the liquid swallow him whole. The world above disappeared, and for a moment, he was weightless, suspended in the depths of the tub.

The coldness of the water stung against his skin, sharp and refreshing, but it did nothing to wash away the images of her. They clung to him, persistent and relentless, like shadows in the depths of his mind.

Foolish.

The word echoed in his mind as he held himself underwater, his breath held tight as the world remained muffled, distorted by the pressure around him. The steady rhythm of his heart was the only sound, the only constant as he lingered in the dark stillness. Time stretched on, but he could not escape it. The ache in his chest burned, the tension in his body still there despite the cold water.

He remained submerged for what felt like an eternity, the minutes slipping away in the quiet abyss. The longer he stayed, the more he realized that the thoughts would not leave—not just like this, not with any amount of magic or water.

Reluctantly, with a slow, frustrated exhale, Loki pushed himself back to the surface, breaking through the water with a gasp, his hair plastered to his face, droplets clinging to his skin like a reminder of his defeat. He dragged a hand through his damp hair, his breath ragged as he lay there, floating in the stillness of the room.

The lingering warmth of the water against his skin did nothing to soothe the fire that still simmered inside him. As much as he tried to push it away, he could still feel the imprint of her—the way she had looked at him, the way her voice had tangled with his thoughts. And for the first time in centuries, Loki found himself unable to control the ache that pulsed through him, unable to banish the thoughts of her from his mind.

His mind began to drift again—against his will, like a tide pulling him back to the same, dangerous shore. The silence of the room felt too heavy now, too quiet, and the very stillness of the water seemed to echo with her presence. He could still feel the weight of her gaze, as though she were standing there beside him, watching him in this private moment, her eyes lingering on him in ways he couldn’t dismiss.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, but the thought of her wouldn’t fade. It surged forward, unstoppable. The way she had leaned in close to him in the cave, how her breath had ghosted over his skin. How close she had been.

Loki clenched his jaw, his muscles tightening involuntarily. He had wanted to pull her closer, to feel her body against his, to lose himself in the heat of it. The thought of it was maddening, and yet it brought an odd thrill that he couldn’t explain.

The way she had been perched so close to him—the soft heat of her breath against his neck—had made his entire body hum with something unfamiliar, something raw. And her touch... the way her fingertips had traced the contours of his skin, leaving behind a trail of fire that burned long after she had pulled away. The memory of that touch tormented him now, echoing through his mind with unbearable clarity.

His pulse quickened as a flash of that moment surged through him once more. Why couldn’t he let it go?

Without thinking, his hand reached out to the small table beside the bath, fingers brushing against a bottle of scented oil—cinnamon and citrus, a soothing blend he usually used after a long day of training. He didn’t even register what he was doing, lost in the spiral of his thoughts.

He uncapped the bottle, the faint scent of the oil filling the air, and without hesitation, he poured a small amount onto the length of his torso. The droplets were cool and soft against his skin, but as his hand moved lower, his thoughts drifted again—back to her.

Her skin... soft, delicate. How would it feel to touch her like that? To press his fingertips into her, to feel her body respond to him in ways he had only dreamed of?

The oil dripped onto his abdomen, the cool droplets traveling from the perch of his pectorals down to the navel of his hips. Loki’s eyes squeezed shut, but the memory of her touch was impossible to push away. Her touch could be like that. Her fingers, warm and slow against my skin.

A shiver ran down his spine as the cool oil continued to trickle down his abdomen. His breath hitched when the thought came unbidden, If she had done that...

He imagined her, perched on the edge of the tub just as she had been in the cave—her body so close to his, her breath mingling with his. Her fingers, trailing over his skin, leaving a burning path in their wake. The thought was so vivid, so intoxicating, that he didn’t realize he was still rubbing the oil into his skin, his movements becoming more deliberate, more sensual, as if he were trying to mimic the sensation he had felt in that moment with her.

His fingers, almost without thinking, moved—mirroring the sensation in his mind, tracing a path down his own body just as he had imagined her doing. The movement was slow, deliberate as if he were trying to imitate her touch, to feel it against his own skin. His fingertips brushed lightly down the length of his torso, where the oil had left a trail that seemed to burn even in its coolness.

The more he thought about it, the more the tension inside him grew. His chest tightened, and his body, betraying him, responded to the fantasies that plagued his mind. Loki’s hand faltered for a moment, his thumb hovering near his navel as the reality of what he was doing settled over him.

What am I doing?

But the thought of her—the memory of how she had looked at him, how close she had been, how she had made him feel—was too powerful to resist. His chest heaved slightly, his fingers tracing the curve of his abdomen, the droplets of oil now warm against his skin as they mixed with the heat of his body. He was unaware that his movements had become more purposeful, as if trying to recreate the sensations of that moment, that touch, over and over again. His breath became shallow as the oil slid across his skin, and the fantasy, once small, bloomed into something more dangerous, more tangible.

His fingers pressed against the base of his navel, his thoughts spiraling further into the fantasy. He imagined her again, her hands on him, her body close—too close. It was like a fever, impossible to escape, a longing that twisted deep inside of him. The oil, cool at first, was now nothing but a reminder of that same burn, that same ache in his chest, the ache that he hadn’t asked for, that he couldn’t ignore.

Loki’s heart raced, his fingers slipping lower, brushing against the taut skin of his lower abdomen. His eyes shot open then, as if a switch had been flipped. The realization that he was doing this—falling deeper into a dream, into a desire that should not be his—hit him like a thunderclap.

“No,” he hissed, clenching his jaw tightly, the word coming out sharp and furious.

He abruptly pulled his hand away from his skin, the sudden action leaving him breathless. He quickly closed the bottle of oil, the small sound of the cap snapping into place echoing in the stillness of the room. But even as he tried to stop, to force his thoughts to turn elsewhere, his body refused to listen. The desire was still there, simmering just below the surface, igniting something deep inside him that he wasn’t prepared to face.

Loki sank back into the water, burying his face in his hands, as if trying to rid himself of the images, of the fantasies that had invaded his mind so effortlessly. But no matter how much he willed it away, no matter how much he tried to drown the thoughts with water, with cold, with magic—it was there, clawing at him, persistent and unrelenting.

The ache in his chest had not dulled, and despite his efforts to push it aside, the restless tension lingered, coiling in his gut. His body was on the edge of something he didn't want to acknowledge, and it only grew more intense the more he tried to deny it.

His eyes flickered over to the small decorative jar at the edge of the bath. Inside, delicate jasmine petals rested in an elegant arrangement, their white blossoms giving off the scent of calming sweetness. He reached for it, his fingers brushing over the petals with a gentleness that contrasted with the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. He needed to relax. He needed something to distract him, to ground him. He closed his eyes as he sprinkled the jasmine petals into the water, watching them float gently, their fragrance filling the room.

The scent was intoxicating, subtle yet powerful, and it seemed to settle the storm in his chest, if only for a moment. He inhaled deeply, the calming effect of the jasmine wrapping around him like a soft, invisible embrace.

But even in this moment of tranquility, his mind refused to be still. The petals floated serenely on the surface of the water, their white silk-like texture reminding him of something else—someone else.

Her.

He couldn’t help it. His thoughts wandered back to her, back to the way she had looked in that cave, bathed in the dim, flickering light. The way her robe had clung to her skin, almost like a second layer, leaving little to the imagination. The soft, translucent fabric—white, like the petals—had clung to her curves in a way that made his pulse quicken. He could remember how the fabric had shimmered, catching the light as it molded to the shape of her body.

Loki's breath hitched, his gaze unfocused as the image of her lingered in his mind, vivid and undeniable. The robe, almost too delicate, seemed to shimmer like gossamer threads in the soft light, so sheer that it practically beckoned to him, enticing and inviting. He found himself frozen for a brief moment, utterly mesmerized, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of her. Her silhouette was barely concealed, each curve and contour tantalizingly revealed, igniting a fire of desire deep within him that was both exhilarating and maddening.

He could still see how the fabric draped over her body, caressing her every curve, accentuating her femininity with an intimate familiarity that sent his heart racing. The translucent material clung lovingly to her skin, almost teasing him, whispering promises of warmth and intimacy beneath its sheer veil. He had almost been envious of the way it clung to her, as if the robe shared an intimate secret with her, a bond that left him yearning to touch, to discover the warmth of her flesh nestled against that delicate barrier.

The jasmine petals scattered about like whispers against the deep water only amplified the sensuality of the memory, their pure white softness echoing the ethereal glow of her robe. It seemed as though the petals mirrored those intimate moments, each delicate blossom a reflection of the way the fabric clung to her body, effortlessly sculpting her form in a dance of elegance and allure. He imagined her gliding toward him, her skin bathed in the silvery embrace of moonlight, each step orchestrating a balletic shift of the fabric that clung seductively to her, igniting every sense within him.

Loki’s fingers tightened against the edge of the tub, the cool stone under his grip grounding him in the heat of the moment. The pull of his desire was intoxicating, an unquenchable thirst he could feel consuming him. He could almost feel the weight of her presence beside him, the heady warmth of her, the intoxicating scent of her essence wrapping around him like a fragrant embrace. He could hear the soft rustle of her robe brushing against her skin, each sound a silky promise, hear the delicate rhythm of her breathing—soft, steady, a symphony of desire that drew him in deeper.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image of her to disappear. But instead, it grew stronger, more vivid. He imagined reaching out, brushing the fabric of her robe with his fingers, feeling its softness, feeling the warmth of her skin just beneath it. He imagined reaching out, the tips of his fingers grazing the fabric of her robe, feeling its divine softness beneath his touch, the warmth of her skin simmering just beneath it. He envisioned how it would feel to press himself closer, to let his lips trail along the graceful curve of her neck, to slip beneath that fragile seam, where fabric and flesh met, to taste the sweetness that awaited him—his body aching with the promise of connection, longing to bridge the distance that separated them. To raise her out of that damned pool and let the thin fabric slide off on the stone, to—

Loki’s breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly felt a sharp, urgent pressure building within him. With a frustrated growl, he plunged his hand into the water, scattering the jasmine petals as his fingers clawed at the surface in an attempt to break the chain of thoughts that had consumed him. But it was no use. The image of her lingered, relentless.

“Damnation,” he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his eyes burning with frustration as he tried to steady his breathing. The jasmine scent, now stronger than before, filled his senses, but it only seemed to heighten the memory of her. He could almost feel her there with him, her soft skin, the way the fabric of her robe had clung to her body most invitingly.

Loki forced himself to close his eyes again, breathing deeply in an attempt to regain control. But no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, the image of her, the memory of that translucent robe, haunted him. The petals, the scent, the softness—it all became intertwined with his hunger. He could still feel her fingers trailing over his skin, the heat of her body against his.

His body trembled with desire as he succumbed to the memories and fantasies that had been consuming him. He could no longer deny himself the pleasure that he so desperately craved. 

With a low groan, he allowed his hand to wander back down his abdomen, feeling the defined muscles ripple beneath his fingers. His other hand was still clenched in the water, sending jasmine petals drifting to the surface. He trailed his fingers lower and lower, feeling the heat emanating from his body. 

He closed his eyes, imagining her hands on him instead, her digits tracing patterns over his skin. With a sharp intake of breath, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric, feeling the soft trimmed hairs on his lower abdomen.

Loki's breathing grew ragged as he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, his mind filled with newfound scenes of him, of her, of them together.

⠀

He saw him entering a temple with quiet confidence, his footsteps reverberating against the cold stone walls as he moved toward the inner sanctum. His attire was nothing short of magnificent: garments woven with iridescent threads, shifting in color with every step, embodying the very essence of his trickster nature. His cloak, a masterpiece of fine silk, cascaded gracefully around him, embroidered with intricate patterns and symbols that spoke to his divine status.

As he crossed the threshold, his gaze was drawn to her—[Y/N]. She sat within a large stone basin, the water steaming gently around her, its surface dotted with fragrant petals that seemed to float in harmony with the light that filtered through the stained-glass windows. The sight of her struck him like a physical blow; she was even more captivating than he had envisioned.

Her infamous robe still clung to her like a second skin, damp from the water, accentuating the delicate curves of her body. The radiant Wyrmscale artifact resting against her neck like would a collar glowed with soft golden light, its power pulsing through the room, almost as if in tune with her very being. Her long, damp hair was swept back, revealing the delicate lines of her face, and her eyes—those eyes—met his with a mixture of trepidation and something far more potent: desire.

He circled the tub slowly, his gaze never leaving her. Each step was measured, deliberate, his mind consumed by the sight of her—her beauty, her vulnerability, her submission. His pulse quickened, a quiet flutter deep within his chest that echoed through his veins. The heat of the room wrapped around them both, intensifying the weight of the moment, but still, he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from her. She was a vision—an offering he couldn’t resist.

“I've seen you in many visions,” Loki’s voice was low, almost a purr as he spoke, his words laced with something darker, more thrilling. “I’ve spent nights wondering what it would feel like to have you here. To see you like this—vulnerable, willing to give everything, your body and your soul laid bare. And now... here you are, offering yourself so freely, so openly. Tell me, priestess, are you sure you understand what this means?”

His fingers brushed her collarbone, the lightest touch, but it felt as though it was searing her skin. The warmth of her skin under the damp fabric sent a jolt through him, stirring something primal deep inside. His breath caught as he trailed a finger down the curve of her neck, feeling the soft pulse beneath her skin, steady and inviting. She was trembling just slightly—whether from fear or desire, he couldn’t be sure. But it only made the air between them more charged, more delicious.

She met his gaze, the challenge in her eyes unmistakable, even as her fingers tightened subtly around the edge of the tub. “I don’t know,” she replied, her voice steady but with an underlying edge, “But I’m sure you’ll be eager to show me.”

Loki’s smile deepened, his eyes glinting with both amusement and something far more dangerous. “Such confidence. But you know as well as I do, the gods take no mercy when they’re pleased,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear as he leaned in closer. “When I fuck you, it will be more than a mere battle of wills. It will be your surrender, your desire, your need that I feed. And when it’s all over, you’ll know exactly who owns you.”

Her breath hitched as his words sank in. The weight of them, the intensity of his gaze—it felt like she was standing on the edge of something profound, something that could consume her entirely. But somehow, a part of her wanted it. A part of her wanted to give in to him, to the promise of pleasure and power he dangled before her like an impossible temptation.

Loki pulled back slightly, his finger resting on her chin, lifting her gaze back to his. He gazed deeply into her enchanting orbs and lowered his voice to a husky murmur. “I’m certain you’ve imagined it, priestess. But the difference is that I make your fantasies real. What I offer you is beyond anything you could possibly have dreamt. Tell me, are you ready to be taken, to be claimed—body and soul?”

Her body tensed, but her gaze never wavered from his. “We’ll see, won’t we? Then I’ll simply make sure it’s not you who has the final say.” The defiance lingered in her voice, soft yet insistent, despite the way her breath betrayed her.

Loki’s eyes darkened, his smile widening as he stepped back, eyes alight with an undeniable hunger. “You think you have control in this game? You’ve already surrendered more than you realize.”

He ran his finger along her chin, tilting her head back slightly, his voice a dangerous whisper. “It’s time for you to do your due diligence.”

A shiver of excitement ran down [Y/N]’s spine as Loki rose from his crouched position, striding with almost sensual slowness to his dedicated altar on which he took place. The sight of him, poised and confident, filled her with an intoxicating mix of desire and fear, emotions that tangled together in a heady rush. His dark eyes never left her, and she could feel the weight of his gaze like a tangible thing, burning into her skin. Her breath hitched as he ascended, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the room, the shadows falling just right to highlight the chiseled perfection of his form.

The air between them thickened with vibrating tension, as if the very space they occupied pulsed with the energy of their closeness. Her pulse quickened in her neck, her heartbeat erratic, and the anticipation settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. She could feel his power—dark and alluring—drawing her toward him, a magnetic pull she couldn’t escape. She was trembling, her skin sensitive under the damp fabric of her robe, which clung to her body like a second skin, accentuating the curves of her breasts and hips. Every inch of her seemed to be on fire as her body responded to his presence, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation thrumming through her veins.

Loki’s voice sliced through the air, a low, beckoning command. “Come along, priestess. Join me.”

His words were soft yet laced with an unmistakable power, a challenge, an invitation, and something darker—a promise. The tension between them grew almost unbearable, and [Y/N], despite the trepidation swirling in her gut, found herself obeying, rising from the water as though compelled by some unseen force. Her body was stiff with both reluctance and yearning, her knees weak as she took her first step toward him. Her skin, slick with water, glistened under the light, and the weight of the robe clinging to her only heightened the sensitivity of every nerve in her body. Each movement felt slower, more deliberate, as she crossed the distance between them, her every step trembling.

Loki watched her intently, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flash of something dark crossing his features, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice like velvet wrapping around her. “Come closer. Show me that you can follow through, priestess.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she fought to steady herself as she made her way toward the altar. Her legs felt like they might give way under the weight of his gaze, but she continued forward, each step echoing her growing need, her pulse racing as she neared him. Her hands, trembling slightly, reached out instinctively, grasping the cold stone of the altar’s edge for support.

Standing before him now, she felt small, fragile even, in contrast to his towering presence. Loki’s eyes roamed over her, their gaze calculating yet filled with an unmistakable hunger. The intensity of his stare made her feel exposed, as if he were unraveling her very soul with nothing but a look.

"You’re trembling," he said, his voice a whisper, yet every word felt like a brand against her skin. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her trembling hand where it rested on the altar. The simple touch sent a jolt of heat racing through her body, an electrifying sensation that made her want to both pull away and draw him closer.

"I can feel it," he continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "You’re not as composed as you’d like to pretend. But do not worry, I’ll teach you how to surrender."

Loki’s smile deepened, an expression of quiet satisfaction that made her heart race. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, as his hands moved to undo the golden tie of her robe, fingers brushing the fabric slowly, deliberately. “Come worship your god.”

The anticipation was unbearable now, every motion seeming to stretch time, prolonging the moment between them as he loosened the knot. The robe, heavy with water, fell slightly from her body, revealing more of her curves, the soft, enticing shape of her figure exposed to his hungry gaze.

[Y/N]’s breath quickened, her body trembling with anticipation, but she did not pull away. Instead, she stood still, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath, waiting for him to make the next move. There was a strange mix of defiance and longing in her eyes, the embers of resistance still glowing, but she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to him—compelled by something darker, something she couldn’t name, and that terrified her more than anything else.

She felt his presence wash over her like a tidal wave, filling her senses and drowning out any other thoughts. She was trembling, not just from fear, but from something deeper—something she couldn’t control. And with every passing second, she realized that she had already given herself to him, even if she hadn’t fully admitted it yet.

Loki's fingers traced the curves of [Y/N]'s hips, the delicate touch sending a shiver of anticipation through her. She couldn't help but react to his every movement, her body trembling under his touch, as though every inch of her skin was attuned to him. His presence enveloped her, warm and overwhelming, stirring emotions she was both eager and afraid to face.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her neck, tasting the remnants of the water that clung to her. The sensation of his lips, warm and demanding, sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. [Y/N]’s breath hitched, the tension in her body rising as his hands roamed upward, gently parting the collar of her wet robe, exposing the smoothness of her shoulder. His fingers traced the delicate curve of her shoulder blades, making her shiver as a thrill of sensation coursed through her.

His lips followed the path of his hands, soft at first, exploring the skin of her shoulders with slow, languorous kisses. The warmth of his mouth, combined with the sensation of his hands on her skin, made her lightheaded with want. She tilted her head back instinctively, surrendering to the sensation, offering him more of her neck, and Loki took full advantage of the invitation. His tongue traced a path up to her ear, the action sending a tremor through her as a soft gasp escaped her lips.

Loki’s breath was hot against her skin, his voice a low murmur in her ear. “You can feel it, don’t you?” he whispered, his hands moving down her arms in teasing strokes, the light touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His fingertips skimmed over her skin as though savoring every inch of her, his touch light yet laden with intent.

[Y/N]’s pulse raced, her body betraying her, drawn to him in ways she couldn’t fully understand. She swallowed, trying to steady herself, but the tension between them was palpable, thickening the air with every passing moment.“Please,” she murmured, her voice shaking, the defiance still lingering within her even as her body reacted to him. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the strength in his frame pressing against hers, but it was the hunger in his kiss, the way he seized her lips as if he couldn’t hold back any longer, that set her completely aflame.

His mouth was urgent, claiming, and yet his hands remained gentle, pulling her closer, as if he were testing the boundaries between them. His lips moved against hers with a growing intensity, a hunger she couldn’t ignore. [Y/N]’s hands now timidly fisted the front of his tunic, pressing her body more firmly against his. Her heart beat erratically, a rhythm of need and desire she was now powerless to deny.

Loki’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and for a moment, everything around them faded away. There was only the feel of him—his warmth, his presence, the taste of his kiss—and the undeniable pull between them that neither could escape. [Y/N]’s breath came in quick gasps, her lips parting as she tried to steady herself, but there was no stopping it now. Not when Loki’s touch was like fire on her skin, lighting every nerve ablaze.

Loki’s fingers traced every curve of [Y/N]’s body with a gentle yet possessive touch, as if memorizing the feel of her beneath his hands. His fingers skimmed across her waist, sending waves of sensation through her, before slowly traveling down to her hips. His touch was deliberate, his skin leaving a trail of fire where it met hers. The sensation was intoxicating, and [Y/N]’s breath caught in her throat as she fought to keep control, but each brush of his hand made it more difficult to resist. Her body seemed to respond of its own accord, her pulse quickening, her skin flush with anticipation.

She couldn’t help but tremble under his touch as his hands ventured lower, tracing the outline of her thighs, fingers grazing over the soft skin, sparking a flood of warmth that radiated out from her core. With each slow movement, each teasing caress, she felt as if she were being pulled deeper into him, her body writhing, arching under the pressure of his touch, desperate for more.

Loki’s voice was low and husky as he broke their kiss, his hand wrapped around her throat and his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Now, I want you to undress me. Slowly, deliberately, as if every touch is a prayer made to my body.”

[Y/N]'s heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath hitching in her throat as she nodded, her hands trembling with anticipation. She reached up, her fingers finding the hem of his tunic, and slowly began to lift it, exposing his toned abs and muscular chest. Her eyes traced every inch of his skin, taking in the defined lines of his muscles, and the smattering of dark hair that peaked out of his Apollo’s belt.

Loki’s voice was smooth and laced with arrogance as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “You should consider yourself fortunate, priestess,” he whispered, his tone dripping with confidence. “Not many are allowed to touch a god like me. So take your time. Let every movement be a tribute to what stands before you.”

[Y/N] felt a surge of boldness and desire as Loki's words of encouragement caressed her ears. Emboldened, her delicate hands slowly slid up the length of his tunic, inching it upwards to reveal more and more of his godly physique inch by tantalizing inch. His skin was unveiled to her hungry gaze—she could feel the heat that radiated from his very being, his muscles rippling and tensing beneath her fingertips like coiled steel as they glided across the expanse of his abdominal muscles. 

Her tongue explored his heated throat as she pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck, taking her time to thoroughly savor the taste of his skin. Her lips moved lower, trailing over his defined collarbone until she reached the hollow at the base of his throat. There, she let her teeth graze the sensitive flesh before soothing the sting with a slow, firm lick.

Loki's breath caught in his throat, a ragged hitch that spoke of barely contained longing. His emerald eyes blazed with smoldering desire as they roamed hungrily over [Y/N]'s form, drinking in every dip and curve of her body. Reaching up with a hand that trembled with need, his fingers tangled in her silken tresses, the cool strands slipping through his grasp. Tilting his head back in wanton surrender, he exposed the smooth column of his throat to her questing mouth.

"Yes," he rumbled, his voice a deep, throbbing growl that sent delicious shivers cascading down her spine. The velvet timbre of his words caressed her heated skin like a physical touch, stoking the flames of her desire higher. "Just like that."

His tone dripped with sin and dark promise, full of tempting subtext that left little room for misinterpretation. Loki's voice painted sinful pictures in her mind, hinting at secrets and pleasures only he could provide. Each low, raw word fell from his lips like a forbidden confession, igniting her blood until it burned through her veins.

[Y/N]'s heart pounded wildly, her breath coming fast and shallow as she leaned into the delicious friction of his fingers in her hair. The light pressure at the back of her skull sent sparks skittering across her scalp and down her nape. Loki's grip held her in place, keeping her mouth pressed to the supple skin of his throat where his pulse fluttered like the wings of a caged bird. The heat of him seeped into her, his quickening heartbeat a counterpoint to her racing rhythm.

He imagined her lips brushing against the corded muscles of his neck, feeling the coiled tension thrumming through his body like a tightly wound spring. As her phantom touch grazed his skin, he found himself arching instinctively into the sensation, craving more of that teasing contact. His thick throat flexed and undulated beneath her mouth as he swallowed hard around the lump that had formed there, fighting to control the intense reaction coursing through him.

Loki's gasps would encourage her to continue her sensual exploration. He felt her apply light suction, pulling at his skin until she felt his pulse jumping beneath her lips. Reluctant to release him, she transferred her ministrations to the opposite side of his throat. This time, she used her teeth more insistently, worrying the flesh and nipping at his hammering pulse until she could taste the coppery tang of blood on her tongue as it beaded on his skin.

He could practically feel the heat of her breath as she traced the strong column of his neck with her lips and tongue, igniting sparks of sensation with every pass. His skin prickled with goosebumps, drawn taut and hypersensitive, as if her imagined touch had burned away every layer between them until only nerve endings remained. He strained towards the pressure of her mouth, blatant in his need for stimulation, his body an instrument thrumming with tension.

Again and again, she returned to the spot, alternating between deep, open-mouthed kisses and teasing licks and nips until his neck was mapped with darkening love bites. Each mark was a brand, a symbol of her possession, the evidence of her claim on him. She loved seeing the proof of her wanton lust decorating his fair skin.

Releasing her mouth from his throat with a wet pop, she admired her handiwork, trailing her fingers over the tender, reddened flesh. Loki's hands had found her hair, tangling in the silken strands as he held her close. His breaths were shallow, chest heaving with the force of his exhalations. The visible strain of his erection pressed against her belly but she ignored it for now, lost in her need to taste every inch of him.

In a frenzy of lustful desperation, [Y/N] wrenched Loki's tunic up and over his head with an almost violent urgency. The flimsy garment was hastily cast aside, fluttered forgotten to the floor as her hungry gaze raked over the newly bared expanse of Loki's sleek, pale skin. She drank in the sight of him with fevered eyes that glittered with unslaked craving, her pupils blown wide with desire.

The air between them felt charged and taut, thick with the promise of what was to come. It crackled with an electric tension that made the very skin prickle, so dense with want that it seemed to pulse and undulate like a living thing. The space seemed to swell, heavy and swollen with the weight of their unspeakable needs.

[Y/N] began a worshipful descent down the sculpted planes of Loki's torso. She laved her tongue over his cool skin, tracing the elegant sweep of his collarbones and the dip of his sternum. Her lips brushed feather-light over the flat discs of his nipples, drawing a shuddering hiss from between clenched teeth as she suckled and nibbled, determined to wring as much pleasure and praise from him as she could. Her teeth scraped carelessly, leaving crimson blooms on his skin like stigmata.

Loki shivered and flared, his powerful frame surging beneath her ministrations. His fingers clenched in her hair, dragging her inexorably up and molding her curves meltingly flush against the hard, unforgiving lines of his body. Loki's gaze burned into her own, twin flames of liquid emerald fire that seared straight to her soul. "The pants," he commanded, his voice a rough, guttural sound edged with feral hunger. The raw command in his tone sent primal heat licking through her core, urging her onward even as it threatened to undo her utterly.

[Y/N]'s trembling fingers fumbled at the waistband of his breeches, clumsy with desperation. She wanted to tear them from his body, to lay him bare before her, but some distant scrap of coherence kept her movements measured. The air felt too thick to draw a proper breath, the anticipation coiling tighter and tighter in her blood until it was almost painful.

Finally, blessedly, his breeches joined his tunic on the floor. [Y/N] hummed in satisfaction, drinking in the sight of him laid out before her in all his naked glory. She reached out to trail reverent fingers down the dips and ridges of his abdomen, savoring the way he shuddered and tensed beneath her touch. But she was only allowed a brief moment to admire him before Loki was surging up to capture her mouth in a bruising kiss.

As he broke their deep, passionate kiss, his piercing gaze locked onto hers, smoldering with an intense, almost feral hunger. A knowing smirk played at the corners of his lips as he took a slow, deliberate step forward, his voice dropping to a low, dark purr.

"Go on, priestess," he rasped, the words dripping with a sinful promise that sent shivers down her spine. "Take what is yours to worship and claim as your own."

She gulped for air, her lungs burning, fervently nodding as much as she could with the firm grip he still maintained in her hair. A needy whimper escaped her parted lips, her body yearning for more of his electric touch. 

She redoubled her descent down his chiseled body, pressing small, reverent kisses along the way. Her lips mapped a winding path over the planes of his chest, down his taut stomach, savoring the taste of his skin, the heat of him. Reaching his navel, she dipped her tongue inside, circling the sensitive dip teasingly, drawing a groan from the god and his grip tightened, spurring her on.

Finally, she arrived at the apex of his thighs, where his long, hard and imposing member jutted proudly towards her. Its thick length seemed to throb, begging for her worshipful attention. The woman knelt before him, gazing up at him with hooded eyes clouded by lust and a hint of trepidation. 

As he sat there, watching her crafted image intently with anticipation, she hesitated for a moment. She could feel his gaze on her, and she knew what he wanted. Gathering her courage, she slowly reached out a trembling hand towards him. Her fingers inched closer to the hard, rigid length of his cock, and as she made contact, she felt a shiver run through her entire body. The feel of him was intoxicating - hard yet silky smooth, just like the rest of his toned body.

He couldn't help but let out a low groan as she touched him—as he imitated her touch. His hand moved unconsciously to wrap around his member, mirroring her movements. She would watch in fascination as he began to stroke himself, and she wouldn't help but feel a sense of power and arousal at the divine sight that he displayed.

She’d marvel at the feel of him, so different from anything she had ever experienced before. Her fingers looked so meager he doubted they would quite close around his girth. He imagined her feeling even more turned on by the contrast between her delicate hand and his thick, hard cock like he was to the idea.

"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice low and husky with desire. 

She nodded, unable to find her voice at that moment. She couldn't believe she was doing this, touching him like this, but she couldn't deny how much she was enjoying it.

"Good," he murmured, his eyes darkening with lust. "Because I relish the way your touch sets me alight," he murmured, his voice velvet-soft yet edged with longing, as if the confession itself was both a gift and a weapon.

Fingertips danced along his length, tracing the prominent vein that ran along the underside—he didn’t know if it was her phantom touch, or his very real one, he didn’t care for it. He’d pretend that it was hers for now, that he could trade the feeling of the rough palms of his hand for her soft ones.

She watched as his eyes fluttered closed, his breath coming in quick gasps as she touched him. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his muscles tensed under her touch. She circled the base, marveling at the size and the heat it emanated from his member. A bead of clear liquid welled from the slit, making his erection jump. Softly, reverently, she swiped her thumb over the tip, smearing the precum and eliciting a strangled groan from above.

Then, another flash: slowly, almost shyly, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his inner thigh, right at the root of his shaft. Her lips trailed up the sensitive skin, pressing soft open-mouthed kisses in their wake. A faint whimper escaped her as she tasted him, the salt, musk, and pure masculine essence of his arousal thick and heady.

He hissed in pleasure, his fingers tightening in her hair as he pulled her closer. She flicked her tongue over the weeping slit, lapping up the salty essence. Another kiss was placed right at the crown before she started to slowly circle the flared head with the flat of her tongue. She took her time, mapping every ridge and vein, savoring the taste of him on her tongue.

But he wouldn’t let the exploration go on any longer, else he’d go mad beyond reason with want. The massive hand gripping her silky damp tresses gave a sharp tug, wrenching [Y/N]'s head back and forcing her face upwards. She let out a yelp at the sudden motion, eyes widening in fear and surprise darting up to meet the smoldering gaze pinning her in place. A deep growl emanated from above, the sound resonating in her very bones and sending sparks of trepidation skittering down her spine.

Above her, his imposing form loomed, all chiseled planes and rippling muscle. Sweat gleamed on his alabaster skin which heaved with each labored breath. Heavy thighs bracketed her smaller frame as he towered over her kneeling form, his commanding presence seeming to fill the very air around them.

Drawing in a shuddering gasp, [Y/N] tried to give a jerky nod of acquiescence, her delicate throat working nervously under his stern glare. His calloused palm dragged from the silken coil of her hair to seize her chin, fingers pressing firmly into the delicate curve of her jaw as he forced her gaze upward.

"Enough games," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rasp steeped in authority and promise. A flicker of fear danced along her spine, sharp and electric, under the weight of his piercing glare. "Open," he commanded, the single word carrying the weight of inevitability.

She could only whimper in response, breaths coming in short, precipitated puffs as his other hand guided the thick root of his cock to nudge demandingly at her parted lips. With a final, shallow inhale, [Y/N] let her jaw fall slack, allowing the heavy weight to rest against her waiting mouth. He slowly thrust forward, pushing into the velvet heat past her lips and over her tongue. She could feel every rigid vein, every throb of his width stretching her open as inch by delicious inch sank into the clutching confines of her mouth and throat.

Tears sprang anew to her eyes at the sudden intrusion, but she held his gaze, giving a tentative suck as he hilted fully. The wet glide of her tongue traced over the bulbing head, dipping into the weeping slit to lap at the salty-sweet essence gathered there. Above her, she could hear the hitch in his breathing, feel the air between them crackle with building anticipation.

Slowly, he began to rock his hips, sawing in and out with deep but shallow thrusts as he mentally fucked into her face as he did to his enclosed fist. Her lips worked over his length, hollowing her cheeks to suck harder as she brought one small hand up to gently fondle the heavy orbs below. [Y/N] breathed harshly through her nose, tongue fluttering along the underside as he thrust between her lips.

"Norns' mercy," Loki gasped, his head falling back on a low, wanton moan that echoed through the chambers. "Your mouth is exquisite, a divine temple of pleasure."

Emboldened by his praise, she began to bob her head along his impressive length, hollowing her cheeks to suck hard as she took him deeper, feeling him hit the back of her throat. One hand gently lightly scrapped her nails at the navel, teasing the sensitive skin. 

Losing herself in the act of pleasuring him, she consumed herself in carnal desires that threatened to overwhelm her. She loved tasting him, feeling the hot, hard weight of him sliding between her lips, stretching her mouth. His musky, masculine scent filled her nostrils, making her head spin with lust.

Loki's grip on her hair tightened, fingers tangling and tugging as he began to speed up his thrust into the heat of her mouth, not enough to gag her, but just enough to show he was rapidly losing control. "Just like that, priestess, don't you dare stop," he growled, his voice strained with need. "You look so lovely with your lips wrapped around my cock, worshipping me like the god I am. Such a good girl, so eager to please."

His filthy words inflamed her lust to new, dizzying heights. She redoubled her efforts, taking him to the hilt and swallowing around him, throat working to milk his length. He let out a string of filthy curses in the Old Tongue, hips snapping as he chased his impending release, fucking her face with shallow thrusts.

But just as she felt him start to pulse and swell, he forcefully pulled himself from the slick heat of her mouth with a lewd pop. He pictured strings of saliva connected from her swollen lips to the engorged head of his cock as he squeezed the base hard enough to prevent him from cumming so soon. He didn’t want it to end just yet. Too soon.

He could almost hear [Y/N] whine at the loss as she gazed up at Loki through heavy-lidded eyes, her plump lips glistening and swollen from his earlier bruising kisses. He imagined her enticing face flushed with pride and deep feminine satisfaction knowing she had thoroughly pleased her god, his divine favor a heady rush of power and approval. Loki's eyes gleamed molten green, his expression one of ravenous, possessive hunger as his heated gaze roved over her naked form kneeling wantonly at his feet.

"Well done, priestess," he’d purr to her, voice a dark, sinful promise. "You've more than earned your reward. I'm going to taste every exquisite inch of you until you're writhing and begging for completion."

Loki prowled forward like a wolf, his powerful body looming over her in dark promise. Calloused fingers trailed scorching paths along her quivering sides and thighs, leaving shimmering trails of magic in their wake. She shivered and arched into his expert touch, dizzy with need.

"Please, my god," she breathed. "I'm aching for you. Make me yours."Loki's fingers trailed down her forearm, gripping [Y/N]'s hand and pulling her up. He pushed her down onto the marble of his altar in a smooth show of strength, admiring the way her breasts bounced from the force. Settling between her splayed thighs, the god inhaled her heady, musky scent. "So desperate for your god's favor," he growled, pressing hungry kisses up the column of her throat. "I'm going to make you scream my name."

With a wicked grin, he turns to her, his eyes gleaming with desire. "May I?" he asks, indicating the delicate fabric of her robe. At her nod, he rips the flimsy material to shreds, exposing her naked body to his feasting gaze. Loki's gaze lands on a part of untainted skin, and he wastes no time, sucking hard enough to leave a vivid mark. She can't help but gasp at the sensation, her body reacting instinctively. 

He continued his path of destruction down her body, licking and nipping every inch of bare skin. Reaching pert breasts, he caught a nipple between his teeth and tugged just shy of pain, to which she answered by unconsciously spreading her legs in wanton invitation, practically begging for his touch.

"Oh, my sweet [Y/N], so desperate and needy for me," he hummed, trailing his fingers down her arm. His touch was cold fire, leaving goosebumps trailing in its wake. Loki's lips curled into a wicked smirk, his voice a silky taunt as he leaned closer. "How utterly delightful. Let us see if you can endure as well as you deliver, shall we?"

He descended upon her like a starving man, licking and sucking at every inch of her damp skin. His lips and teeth marked her with dark bruise shaped like crescent moons and love bites as he made his way down her body. She writhed and moaned helplessly beneath him, her back arching as he teased her sensitive flesh.

"Mmh, perfect. Sing for me," he growls against her hipbone before dipping his head between her thighs.

He could almost feel her taste on his tongue as he imagined himself licking a broad stripe up her dripping slit, making use his skillful appendage by circling her aching clit without directly touching it. He brought two fingers to his lips as he pictured them parting her folds to delve deep, pumping in and out of her fluttering walls while he laps at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His head rung at the idea of her thighs trembling and clenching around his head as he devoured her mercilessly, his silvertongue more than living up to its title.

"Such exquisite nectar you have, my priestess," he’d mumble into her sex, the vibrations making her see stars. He suckled her clit and thrust two fingers knuckle deep, curling them to rub that special spot inside. "I could feast on you on my altar for ages and never have my fill."

[Y/N] tossed her head back with a loud moan as Loki's skilled mouth worked her over. "Yes, god, just like that!"

He sealed his lips around her throbbing clit, suckling the sensitive bud while his wicked tongue flicked rapidly. Two fingers delved deep, curling just right to stroke that velvety patch along her front wall. "That's it, let me hear all those pretty moans while you fall apart on my face," he urged huskily, hot breath gusting over her drenched folds.

Leaning on her elbows, she gazed down at him with glassy eyes, desperate little pants falling from her lips. Her thighs trembled violently, muscles pulled taut. "Please, please," she babbled incoherently, fisting his inky locks and yanking him impossibly closer. "I need—oh!"

"Need what, pet?" His lips and tongue never ceased their sweet torment, fingers plunging and stroking without mercy. "Tell me and I'll give it to you."

"I need—ah! I need to come!" Tremors wracked her frame as she ground herself wantonly on his face. "Make me come, please Loki!"

"What pretty begging." He doubled down, sucking her clit greedily as she bucked and thrashed. Lips and fingers worked her into a frenzy, wringing out her pleasure with devastating intent. Pressure climbed, tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

[Y/N] threw back her head with a choked scream, core clamping down rhythmically. "I'm coming, mmh—fuck!" Her back arched sharply, juices gushing to coat his cheeks and chin as ecstasy overtook her.

His hips moved upwards as he imagined the expression she would make when reaching climax, writhing in the water as he desperately tried to hold back, not ready for the end just yet. The ripples of the water surrounding him served as a reminder of the feeling of being blessed with her sweet release, droplets splashing onto his face.

With a final thrust, he slowed down, gasping uncontrollably. He gentled his touch, mimicking how he would with her, licking broad and slow to keep her suspended in bliss. "That's it, that’s it. Ride it out on my tongue. You taste divine when you let go."

He knew all too well the effect he had on her; even their casual, teasing banter left her unraveling. His words and actions now, deliberate and charged, were designed to push her to the brink—to drive her wild in ways only he could. He made a low, hungry noise, never stopping until the last aftershock shivered through her.

"Good girl, you took it so well. Such a pretty picture you make in your pleasure," he praises, giving your sensitive clit a final kiss before rising to cover your body with his own. "You please me greatly, my priestess. I knew you'd be the perfect consort."

He couldn’t endure the torment he was inflicting upon himself any longer; it was unbearable, a relentless ache that clawed at his sanity. He had to put an end to it—one way or another. Loki's lips curved in a wicked smirk as he visualized him pulling back to admire his artwork, hands gripping [Y/N]'s hips possessively. 

"Turn over," he’d command, voice rough with need. [Y/N] scrambled to obey, rolling onto her stomach and lifting her hips in the air. The position left her completely vulnerable, her dripping core exposed and ready. Loki groaned at the sight, his cock throbbing. "Hands behind your back," he growled, giving her rear a sharp smack.

[Y/N] gasped and complied, crossing her forearms at the base of her spine. Loki manhandled her, using his strength to pull her arms higher until they were pinned tight against her back. He nestled her chest down against the altar, leaving her arched and spread open. "Such a good little offering," he purred, running a hand over her naked form. His fingers dug into her hips as he notched the flared head of his cock against her entrance. 

"I will ravish you to the point of forgetting everything but my name." Loki declared with a salacious smirk. His eyes gleamed with determination as he charged forward, impaling [Y/N] with a single, ruthless thrust. The force of his entry elicited a startled cry from [Y/N], her back arching as Loki filled her to the hilt. The exquisite stretch of his length was unprecedented, breaching depths no other had ever reached.

"There we go," he praised, starting to move. His strokes were deep and powerful, pulling nearly out before slamming back in. "Take it. Take every ounce of pleasure your god deigns to bestow upon you." [Y/N] sobbed brokenly, overwhelmed by the sensations. The altar bit into her breasts as Loki used her, pounding into her pliant body. Lewd squelches filled the air, mixing with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. 

Just when [Y/N] thought she couldn't take anymore, Loki hauled her up by her restrained arms. He dropped his free hand to her throat, squeezing lightly. "Look at you," he crooned, fingers toying with her nipples. "A perfect little slut, born to be bred and used. You relish this, don't you? The sensation of being utterly filled and ravished by your god?" [Y/N] had no choice but to nod, his words igniting something primal in her. Loki's hand tightened around her neck, restricting her airflow. Simultaneously, his thrusts grew fiercer, pummeling her with relentless intensity.

"You were made for this, pet. Made to serve. I will ruin you for all others. You will adore only me, and my name will be your mantra." He accentuated each word with punishing thrusts.

[Y/N] convulsed, his degrading words and ruthless pace pushing her to the brink. Her cunt clenched desperately around him, trying to hold him deep. She was so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion. All it would take was a slight pressure in the right place and she would shatter completely. 

Sensing her readiness, Loki slid a hand down, zeroing in on her swollen clit. He circled the sensitive nub with a knowing touch, keeping her on the cusp of release. "Come for me, priestess" he ordered with a gasp, voice a sinful purr. "Come apart on my cock, my little whore. Let me feel your pleasure."

[Y/N] had no choice but to obey, her body seizing up as her climax crashed through her. She came with a guttering scream, cunt clenching down on Loki's pistoning cock.

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As he allowed his mind to wander, lost in the picture of her falling in the throes of ecstasy, his eyes flew open with a start. He hadn’t realized how deeply he had slipped into it until he felt a sudden jolt back to reality. His hips were moving rhythmically, thrusting as if he were actually buried deep inside of her.

His breath came in gasps, the air stolen from his throat as he imagined the feeling of her tight walls clenching around him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His hips were gyrating wildly, thrusting up and down in his grasp, like a ship caught in a stormy sea. How deep had he been lost in his fantasy for his state to go unnoticed, even to himself?

The pleasure was all-consuming, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to drown him in its depths. His blood rushed through his veins like a raging river, surging downward to pool in his aching cock and upwards to flood his face with a burning heat. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unbidden and fierce, as he gasped and writhed for oxygen, his thrusts growing wilder and more desperate with each passing moment.

With a final, desperate cry, he came violently in his hands, shouting his muse’s name in a frenzied manner. Spurt after spurt of his release shot forth, hitting the water with a soft plink and splattering the few jasmine petals that had survived the violent waves. It seemed as if the pleasure would never end, each wave of release only serving to build the tension higher and higher until it threatened to consume him entirely.

But eventually, the storm subsided, leaving him spent and shivering in its wake. He lay there, his breath slowing as he came back down to reason. The fantasy had been so vivid, so real, that it took him a moment to remember where he truly was. The sensation was intense, a violent explosion that seemed to rock his entire body. 

Loki collapsed against the smooth, cold marble steps of the grand tub, his body spent, a haze of exhaustion clouding his senses. His breath was ragged, still trying to catch up with the frantic, overwhelming rush that had just passed through him. For a moment, he was weightless, floating on the remnants of the high he had just experienced, the delicate hum of release thrumming under his skin. The contrast of the warm water around him and the cold air against his exposed skin sent shivers racing up his spine, but it was not the chill that made him tremble.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his head tipping back to rest against the edge of the tub. The silence in the chamber felt deafening after the storm that had ravaged through him. The heat of the moment still lingered, but now, it felt oppressive. He was left with a deep, gnawing emptiness, as though a part of him had been drained away with the surge of release. But that empty feeling was nothing compared to what came next.

As the haze in his mind began to clear, the aftermath of his actions came crashing down on him like a tidal wave. For a brief second, he felt like the room was spinning, his body still reeling from the aftershocks of the desire he had just indulged. His chest tightened, a knot of unease tightening in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn’t just given in to the pleasure of the moment. No, that would’ve been easier to accept. What had really shaken him was who—or rather, what—he had let himself desire.

He dragged a trembling hand through his damp hair, his lips pressed into a hard line as the remnants of his thoughts taunted him. A mortal, really? The thought of her—so mortal, so beneath him—made him feel physically sick. His heart pounded in his chest, but not from desire this time. The heat in his veins was no longer a heady rush; it had morphed into something darker, something that made him feel dirty. He had let himself be ruled by a fleeting impulse, a mortal who—by all rights—shouldn’t have mattered to him. She wasn’t worthy of his attention, let alone the attention of his body. And yet, he couldn’t shake the memory of the way her presence had consumed him.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, though it lacked any humor. How could you? he asked himself, gripping the edge of the tub as if it could ground him. A sharp pang of disgust sliced through him, his jaw clenching tightly. How could I stoop so low? he thought bitterly, his disdain for his weakness growing with each passing second. The heat of his actions still lingered, clinging to him like a second skin, and he hated it. He hated himself.

As Loki's breath slowed and the weight of his actions pressed down on him, his gaze drifted to the scattered jasmine petals that floated lazily in the water. Their delicate fragrance filled the air, and for a brief moment, it was almost suffocating. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the pale petals, their soft white against the dark water mocking him with their innocence. They reminded him of that damned robe, the mortal woman who had worn it—her.

He scowled, a wave of irritation rising in him as he cursed them for being the catalyst, the one thing that had led to this moment of weakness. It wasn’t their fault, of course; it never was. But in his mind, they were the symbol of everything that had gone wrong. If only she hadn’t worn it, he thought bitterly. If only I hadn’t noticed her at all...

With a sharp wave of his hand, he dispelled the jasmine petals and the evidence of his indulgence, watching as they disappeared into nothingness, as if they had never been there to begin with. But the disquiet that followed lingered, refusing to vanish as easily as the evidence of his lapse.

Another gesture and the steaming bath turned icy cold, the sudden shock making him shudder. The chill was a reprieve—a way to snap himself back to reality, to wash away the lingering tremors still shaking his resolve.

“This means nothing,” he muttered under his breath, the words more of a command than a truth. He busied himself scrubbing away the remnants of his lapse in control, desperate to rid himself of the memory. His movements were quick, almost frantic, as if staying in the tub any longer would trap him in the thoughts he wanted to escape.

Nothing. He forced himself to believe that. He had allowed himself to be overwhelmed by his body’s basic urges, by the frustration of months of mounting stress—the endless manipulations of his “parents,” the suffocating chains of his conditional freedom, the constant reminder that his every action was watched and judged. And then, her—this mortal who had somehow wormed her way into his thoughts. She was simply an enticing distraction, an irritation that had lodged itself under his skin, and nothing more. He had no time for such trivial mortal attachments.

He exhaled sharply, dispelling the shame that clung to him like an uncomfortable cloak. It was just stress. A temporary lapse. The heat of the moment. It didn’t mean anything.

He turned his attention to the water, an escape of sorts, as he manipulated the temperature. His magic flowed effortlessly, and the warm bath transformed into an icy, biting chill. He let the cold seep into him, willing it to numb the stirring emotions that had begun to surge. But the cold only made him feel sharper, more exposed, the shock of it heightening his awareness of every thought, every tremor within him.

He couldn’t stay in the water any longer. The longer he lingered, the more the memory of what had just transpired would settle into his mind. And he couldn’t bear that. He didn’t want to acknowledge how badly the moment had shaken him.

His movements were quick, almost frantic, as he grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. His fingers were stiff as he dried off, each movement seeming mechanical, as though he was trying to force himself back into control, back into the careful, calculated Loki that he prided himself on being.

But even as he dressed, the thoughts didn’t fade. He told himself it was nothing. He told himself that it meant nothing. But even as he stepped away from the tub, a small, nagging voice echoed in his mind. Unless?

He stopped, mid-step, his chest tightening again. Could it be that simple? Could he dismiss it so easily? His gaze flicked to the empty tub, and a deep, unsettling feeling curled in his gut. The space seemed too quiet now, too still, and he could almost hear her voice again in the silence.

Loki quickly turned away, his mind racing. No. He refused to entertain it. It was stress. Nothing more. She was nothing more. Still, as he left the bathing chamber, his steps quick and unsteady, that seed of doubt lingered. He could feel it in the way his heart beat a little faster, the way his breath caught for a fraction of a second longer than it should have. And no matter how much he tried to push it away, there it was: Unless...

ending notes :

The way I was acting like that for the entire writing is SHAMEFUL. Lord have mercy on me.

Also, I'm not sorry for the length. I hope you enjoyed it thoroughly nonetheless. And get your mind out of the gutter, I'm talking about the fic, not Loki. :p

⠀⠀

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

taglist : @stilleobjection — @the-fandoms-onceler .

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dividers ©️ @angelremnants + @arminsumi .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

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

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

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

*

The next several hours are a blur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Or that was your plan, anyway.

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

The room is much colder at night.

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

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

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

But you also have to pee.

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

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

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

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

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

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

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

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

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

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

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

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

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

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

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not yet. Not yet.

*

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

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

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

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

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

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

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

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

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

“Please,” you breathe.

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

“Don’t stop,” you say.

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

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

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

You whimper, your hips rocking.

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

“I need to come,” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it working?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

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

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

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

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lokisgoodgirl]

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.

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.

Tags in comments ❤️

[jiyascepter]

Caught You | 18+ Only

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

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.

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.

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."

┈➤ Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭

[simplyholl]

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.

See my Masterlist Here

“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.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @lokischambermaid @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee @sammichdog

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

Five Minutes - L.L.

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.”

[seriiousgiirl]

𝑀𝓎 𝒜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 𝓉𝓋𝒶!𝓁𝑜𝓀𝒾 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁ 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.

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.

❛ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ❜

[michelleleewise]

Bewitched

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: somnophilia, thigh riding, masturbation, spells gone wrong, "sex-pollen" type fic, swearing, dirty talk, loki speaking Norwegian, swearing, mildly explicit smut, unprotected sex, penatration (p in v), fluffy ending.

Summary: you borrowed a book from Loki's personal library, and weren't prepared for the consequences.....

A/n-graphics by @harlequin-hangout. This story inspired by my dear @mochie85 and her amazing story "Pheromones". Thank you so much my dear for all your help and support!! This story absolutely got away from me, it's definitely longer so be prepared 💚💚

You walked into Loki's room, slowly closing the door behind you making your way to his overly large book case. He had been away on a mission for the last week, but told you to feel free to borrow whatever you wished. Carefully putting back the ones you had borrowed you browsed his large collection. Running your fingers along the spines you couldn't help smile, knowing you were one of the only ones, if not the only one allowed in his room, let alone allowed to borrow his books.

Over the last year you had grown close to the God, being born with powers you didn't understand, let alone control had made your life burdensome. You didn't have many friends, your family had basically disowned you, dropping you at an orphanage. Apparently you were too unpredictable for them to handle. But Loki had taken you under his wing, helped you understand your abilities, even training you to control them. On more then one occasion telling you how proud he was of you....calling you his "little witch" making your heart flutter.

You wandered over to his personal books, ones he had been able to save and being back with him when they had to leave Asgard and come to earth. You pulled out one of the larger volumes, Your fingers running over the golden runes inscribed on the cover. Tucking it under your arm remembering you could translate it with your phone you walked back towards the door, glancing around seeing his daggers displayed on the wall, his desk neatly organized not a thing out of place. A warm feeling running over you picturing him laying on the couch reading...sitting at the desk writing some long letter, his long slender fingers wrapped around his pen.

A shudder running through you thinking about those fingers gliding aross your skin, gently wrapping around your throat as he took what he wanted from you, claiming you for his. You shook the images out of your head remembering he was your friend, your mentor, your teacher. He would never see you as you saw him. Sighing you hugged the book to your chest, grabbing the knob turning the lights off as you closed his door, smiling as you made your way back to your room excited to see what knowledge the book contained.

"AGAIN!" Loki yelled, throwing another green blast at you, deflecting it just in time as another came out of nowhere knocking you off your feet. You laid on your back trying to catch your breath when he came over looking down at you "have you not kept up your training in my absence?" He asked crossing his arms "y...yes...i...have." You panted grabbing your chest "then you would not be so easy to defeat. On your feet, we are going again." He said sternly walking out of your vision. You sat up watching him walk to the other side of the room, he looked powerful, regal, you would give him the world if you could. "I said up...now!" He yelled making you jump.

You got to your feet, bringing your hands up holding them out emitting a purple glow, watching his glow green. "This time you shall have no warning, you must react on instinct y/n." He said as you nodded, planting your feet in a defensive stance, watching him slowly stalk around you. Your anxiety rose as your eyes followed him, traveling between his hands and his face seeing him smirk. You saw something in your peripheral, turning slightly to see what it was you were hit in the chest hard by Loki's seidr, once again landing on your back. "Y/n where are you? You are not focusing!" He yelled as you sat up rubbing your chest.

"Loki, I'm only....ow human. What do you...." you were cut off as he drug you up to your feet, gripping your shoulders "you are not merely human y/n, your are...more." He said clenching his jaw "and I expect more from you then what you are giving me." He snapped as you looked to the floor "i..I'm sorry, it's just.." you started "don't be sorry, be better. How am i to be sure you will be alright out there hmm?" He asked as you looked back up at him, the green of his eyes seeming to glow "how will I know...." he started, feeling his thumb rubbing your arm, his eyes shooting to your lips and back. "Loki..." you whispered when he dropped his hands "I expect better next session." He said storming towards the door, leaving you alone with your wounded pride.

You made it back to your room, the look of disappointment on Loki's face was burned into your mind as you walked to the bathroom. You knew when he came back from missions he was like this. Harder, firmer, more demanding, but it didn't hurt any less seeing that look. "I'll never be good enough." You sighed, turning the shower on you slipped your training clothes off, throwing them in the corner as you stepped into the shower, the hot water making you wince as it hit your sore muscles. You wanted to be better, to impress him but it seemed to be a losing battle. You sighed, wrapping a towel around you you walked into your bedroom. Putting on a tank top and some sleep shorts you walked into the living room.

Flopping down on the couch you saw Loki's book on the coffee table. You hadn't had a chance to look at it yet with everything that had been going on, but now would be as good a time as any. You got up, grabbing your phone and a piece of paper and pen you sat back down, opening the book to a random page seeing the runes running along one side, a picture of a heart engulphed in flames on the other. You slid to the floor, opening your phone you went down the page finding the word for each rune writing down the translation, smiling as you reached the end. "Ok, now let's see what your saying." You said to yourself leaning back.

Hearts Desire

Suns shine, and moons shimmer,

Love and passion meet in shadow,

The fire burns, the flames grow higher,

The body yearns, the hunger grows,

Only sated by your hearts desire...

As you recited the last line you saw the book begin to glow on the table, the runes shimmering with a gold light on the page before suddenly stopping. "What the..." you said to yourself, running your fingers across the page feeling a shock in your fingers making you pull your hand back. "Ooook, I think that's enough reading for tonight." You said, carefully closing the book you put you phone down as you stood up feeling light headed. "Time for bed." You said Turning the lights off you climbed under the covers. Knowing you had another training session with Loki tomorrow you closed your eyes, willing sleep to take you.

You rolled over, groaning as the blankets stuck to your damp skin. Looking at the clock seeing it was just past midnight you sighed. You put your hand on your forehead wiping the sweat away "why is it so hot in here?" You breathed, throwing the covers off you went to stand feeling your knees try to buckle. "I better not be getting sick" you said to yourself slowly making your way to the thermostat seeing it was still set at a cool sixty degrees. "What the hell." You turned on the ac, going back to bed you layed down, the cool sheets making you sigh as you closed your eyes trying to go back to sleep.

Images flashed in your mind. Long dark hair...deep green eyes that seemed to penatrate your soul...long fingers running up your thighs, moving up to slowly caress your clit..."Come to me darling...I need you." You heard furrowing your eyebrows feeling the fingers slide down towards your entrance. "Come....now!" The voice growled as the fingers pushed inside you waking you with a gasp. You shot up, looking around into the dark room seeing you were alone "Holy hell." You panted rubbing your eyes. You scooted forward feeling the wetness between your legs, your body covered in a sheen of sweat "maybe a shower will help." You sighed, scooting off the bed, the friction of your shorts against your core making moan as you braced the wall. "That must have been some dream." You thought making your way to the bathroom.

You turned on the cold water, stepping inside you let out a deep breath. You felt like your were burning from the inside out. You closed your eyes standing under the spray when the images returned. You hand slowly sliding down between your thighs, opening yourself up as you saw Loki...standing before you In nothing but his leather pants, slowly stalking towards you with a hunger in his eyes "come to me pet...I must have you." He purred, reaching out his large hand he wrapped it around your throat, his eyes boring into you. You worked your fingers through your folds, circling your clit feeling a shiver run through you as he leaned down, feeling his breath on your neck "I will give you pleasure as you have never known...all you must do is...come." He said sternly.

"L..loki..." you moaned, feeling your orgasm wash over you, pressing your thighs together at the feeling. You opened your eyes seeing the white tile wall "god...if only." You panted. You finished washing up, wrapping a towel around you you grabbed another tank top and clean shorts you sat on the bed, the pressure on your core making you moan. "What is happening?" You said to yourself shaking your head. You had dreamt of Loki before...numerous times but usually a little self care would sate your lust until the next dream, but now it only seemed to make things worse. You slipped your clothes on, feeling your body begin to heat up again, worse then before. "A...am I dying?" You said to yourself, gripping the side of the bed goaning as another wave of pleasure rolled over you.

Your eyes shot open remembering the book, the letters glowing as you read from it. "Oh shit...I cursed myself." You said rubbing your temples feeling sweat beading on your skin. "L...loki! I need to talk to loki, he'll...ahhh...know what to do." You moaned, slowly standing up feeling another wave push through you. Looking over seeing it was past two in the morning. "Well, I hope he's awake." You sighed, making your way to the door, nails digging into the handle as a another wave washed over you, your core feeling like it's om fire "I....ahh....better hurry." You moaned, quickly making your way to the elevator you pressed the button hard as the next wave hit you making you knees buckle. "Aahh fuck.." you moaned gripping the wall.

You made it to his floor, slowly walking out of the elevator you braced yourself on the wall, another hit you hard bringing you to your knees. "Holy shit..." you panted, standing up you felt the wetness between your thighs soaking your shorts. "L..loki..." you moaned making it to his door. You pressed your forehead to it, sighing as the cold wood met your hot skin. "Loki..." you breathed, knocking to be met with silence. Your thighs clenched together as you tried to knock again, still not getting a response you gripped the handle, turning it finding it unlocked. "Oh thank God." You sighed slowly pushing the door open.

You stepped inside, quietly closing the door looking around the dark room. Your body shivered as the scent of pine and sandalwood washed over you. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts "Lo..." you started, wincing feeling the skin under your ear burn, putting your hand over it feeling your skin hot to the touch. "Fuck.." you whispered looking back across the room, seeing the bedroom door slightly ajar. You walked towards it, you mind getting hazier the closer you got. "L..loki..." you whispered, slowly pushing the door open, the moonlight streaming through the window giving the room a soft glow when your eyes met his sleeping form, biting your lip seeing the sheet pooled around his hips, revealing his bare chest.

You opened your mouth trying to say his name, a moan coming out in its place as you gripped the door knob, leaning over as your head swam. Squeezing your thighs together you stood up, your vision hazy as you walked towards the bed, slowly making your way across the bed, running your fingers along the soft sheets looking down at him. You stood at the side of the large bed, his long hair splayed across the pillow making your hand twitch, you needed to touch it...now. You leaned down, slowly sliding back the sheets hearing him groan lightly as you climbed in next to him, carefully scooting towards him pressing your front to his side hearing him sigh.

You leaned up on your elbow, reaching your hand up you gently moved his hair exposing his long neck, smiling seeing a small freckle under his ear. You leaned down pressing a gentle kiss to it, his skin warm on your lips hearing him groan. You continued peppering small kisses to his neck as your hand slowly slid across his stomach, moaning as your fingers found the light patch of hair that traveled down. flattening your palm your hand slid down, feeling his muscles tense as your fingers grazed his adonis belt. "Loki.." you whispered against his skin as you went lower, your fingers running through the tuft of hair just above what you wanted most. "Y/n.." he moaned softly, freezing hearing him say your name, looking up seeing his eyes still closed.

Was he dreaming about you..you thought as your lips pressed back to his skin feeling his head turn slightly. Your pressed your thigh over his as your hand found what it was searching for, smiling feeling him hard as you slowly wrapped your fingers around him, groaning as you realized you couldn't get them all the way around him. "Mmm..god..." you moaned into his neck as you slowly moved your hand up and down, stoking him as you teeth grazed his skin. You groaned feeling him twitch in your hand as his hips rocked upwards meeting your strokes. "Mmm... I need you so bad." You whispered into his ear hearing his breath hitch.

You slowly rocked your hips against his thigh in rhythm with your hand. Tightening your grip you stoked him harder, your lips traveling to his collar bone as you squeezed your thigh against him, the friction on your clit sending electricity through you. "Y...y/n..." he groaned as your teeth grazed his collar bone. "Loki..." you breathed into his skin feeling him stiffen "w...what are you...ahhh...." he hissed grabbing your wrist stopping your movements. You looked up at him, his eyes wide as he stared at you "i...I need to feel you." You panted, releasing your grip on him you threw your leg over him, straddling his hips.

"Wait...y/n..." he trailed off trying to grab your hands as you tried to shift the sheet off of him. "P..please loki i...i need you." You panted, lifting your hips trying to get the sheet out from under you. "Y/n...stop this at once." He demanded as you looked into his eyes, a shudder running through you "i..I cant.." you whispered, leaning back you reached for the sheets again "Y/n...wait..." he said as you felt another wave slam into you, bracing yourself on his chest you rocked your hips against his erection, moaning at the friction when he suddenly bucked his hips, flipping you onto your back as he settled over you, pinning your wrists above your head in one large hand. He took in your appearance, seeing the sweat beading on your skin, your skin like fire under his hands. "What are you doing y/n?" He asked sternly as you dug your nails into your palm "i..need you." You whispered.

"You are not yourself, What did you do?" Loki asked sternly eyeing you. "Nothing! I just....please...." you pleaded, bringing your hips up as he pushed them back down with his other hand. "Y/n, I will not ask again, what..." he started as his eyes went to your neck, reaching up he grabbed your chin turning your head "all I did was borrow a few books while you were gone." You said shakely, feeling sweat pooling on your skin as his eyes met yours again "which books?" He asked still gripping your chin. "I..I don't know i..." you started "Dammit woman, which ones did you take?" He yelled making you shiver "i..I don't know the title...I just t..translated a page." You said shakely feeling your eyes burn. "P..please loki...I feel like I'm dying." You said feeling a tear escape your eye, traveling to your hair as he turned your head back.

He released your chin, his fingers ghosted over the skin of your neck, moaning when he touched where it burned the most, your thighs gripping his sides feeling another wave of arousal wash over you, your walls clenching around nothing. "Hearts desire..." he whispered splaying his large hand against your neck. "It appears you borrowed one of my spell books and...enchanted yourself." He said as his eyes met yours again. "A..m i...am I dying?" You whimpered feeling another tear fall as he wiped it away with his thumb "no my dear, you are not dying, not yet anyway" He said "but, your condition will worsen until you body becomes too hot and starts to shut down." He said feeling your forehead "how long ago did this happen?" He asked "a..a few hours or so." You said as he nodded. "H..how do I make it s..stop?" You asked shakely as he looked down "the only way to cure Hearts Desire is to become one with the one you...love." he whispered as your eyes widened.

A sob escaped you as he released your hands, leaning back slightly watching you "i...im s...sorry loki, I...I didn't want you to find out like this, or ever. i..." you cried, covering your face with your hands "I'm s...sorry." you said again as you shifted, trying to get out from under him when he grabbed your hips. "Where are you going?" He asked making you look at him "i...I've ruined everything with my stupidity and...." you rambled, feeling his finger prsss to your lips, it taking all your will power not to wrap your lips around it. "You need to calm down darling, your getting warmer." He said shifting closer to you "did you not hear me, your condition will worsen." He said sternly "i am going to help you." He said cupping your cheek "n..no! You don't have to do that, i..I'll just..." you trailed off "pleasure yourself? It will only make it worse." He said, gripping the sheets as you felt another roll through you, your nerve endings igniting making you whimper.

"Those sounds...you have no idea what you do to me my little witch." He groaned, pressing his hips to yours, feeling his erection rub against your clit "g..god....loki...." you moaned wrapping your arms around his back. "Let me take care of you." He whispered, leaning down pressing a kiss to your neck making your hips jerk. "I can smell you..." he groaned, rocking his hips into you as he leaned back, hooking his fingers under the band of your shorts, slowly sliding them down your legs "no panties hmm?" He purred, tossing them across the room. "I...they were dirty." You stuttered as he lowered himself back between your spread legs. "Oh, im sure they were my little vixen." He smiled, leaning down pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

You moaned feeling his hand slide up your thigh, slipping between you as his teeth grazed the top of your breast "mmm....you are soaking darling." He said, his long fingers gliding through your folds making you arch up into him. "P...please Loki...." you panted, screwing your eyes shut. You felt him shift, pulling the sheet from between you as his cock pressing into your thigh, precum smearing across your skin as he lined himself at your entrance "open those eyes for me, I want to see you as I take you." He growled. You opened your eyes, looking down seeing his cock begin to push into you. "Look at me." He said, as your eyes shot up to his "så vakker.." he whispered, pressing his hips forward, your nails digging into his back as he inched inside you, stretching you to your limit.

"Norns! Your so...warm, so...aahhh tight." He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as he jerked his hips forward, knocking the wind out of you as he bottomed out. "Holy...fuck..." you panted, spreading your legs further apart as he pulled out to his tip, thrusting back in. You felt your body tingle as he slowly rocked in and out, keeping his pace slow. "L..loki....harder....fuck me....harder." you growled, sliding your hands down to his ass pulling him into you. "A...as you...mmm...wish." He growled, pulling out as he slammed into you, jolting you up the bed "oh fuck...yes..." you yelled, burying your face in his neck biting the skin under his ear hearing him growl.

"F...fuck....I can feel you...ahh squeezing me darling." He panted, snapping his hips hard, his pelvic bone hitting your clit with each thrust making your cry out. "I..I'm gonna..." you breathed, digging your nails into his cheeks as he pushed you up the bed. "Mm...min lille heks...ahhh...hvor jeg har lengtet etter deg." He said, slipping into his native tongue making you shudder. "kom for meg ... melk kuken min." He growled, slamming into you hard, your head hitting the headboard as your orgasm flooded over you, your walls clenching hard around him "c..come with me loki...fuck...let me feel you." You panted, feeling him twitch inside you as his hips met yours, holding himself in you as he spilled deep inside you. "Fuck...y/n J...Jeg elsker deg." He panted, dropping his head to your shoulder, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

He slowly pulled out, shifting to lay next to you as you stared at the ceiling. You pulled the sheet up covering yourself feeling your skin start to cool off, your mind clearing as you glanced over, seeing his eyes closed. You looked back to the ceiling, a knot forming in your stomach as you thought about what just happened. "Your thinking too loudly." He said making you look over at him, your eyes meeting his. "Im...I'm sorry Loki, about all of this." You said, pulling the sheet back starting to get up when you felt his hand on your shoulder pushing you back down as he leaned up on his elbow looking down at you

He reached up feeling your forehead smiling "how are you feeling my dear?" He asked tucking your hair behind your ear "b..better." you said looking down. "Is it true?" He asked, his eyes staring into you "umm..i...well you see..." you tried, looking back to the ceiling, feeling his fingers genlty grab your chin making you look at him. "Yes loki, it's true." You said gripping the sheet. He leaned down gently pressing his lips to yours, his tongue slowly sliding across your bottom lip. A warmth filled you, your toes curling feeling his tongue gently pass your lips, cupping your cheek as his tongue tangled with yours, his lips impossibly soft against your own as he claimed your mouth, biting your lip as he pulled back looking at. "Be mine y/n." He breathed, pressing his forehead to yours "i..what?" You asked tilting your head up "I have wanted you for so long, i would like to court you." He said smiling "y..yes Loki, I would like that very much." You smiled back as he pulled you towards him, laying on his back guiding your head to his shoulder "get some rest my dear, we can talk more tomorrow." He said running his fingers through your hair as you wrapped your arm around his middle "and y/n...no more books." He said making you laugh "ok, no more books." You agreed, closing your eyes slipping off to sleep listening to the steady beat of his heart....

Translations-

hvor jeg har lengtet etter deg-how i have longed for you

min lille heks-my little witch

Jeg elsker deg-i love you

kom for meg ... melk kuken min-come for me...milk my cock

så vakker-so beautiful

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[hunny-beann]

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.

Tags: @mischief2sarawr @ladymischief11 @lokisgoodgirl @superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr @villainousshakespeare @redfoxwritesstuff @buttercupcookies-blog

Note: If you would like to be added to/removed from being tagged in anything please feel more than free to let me know! <3

[the-princess-of-loki]

Loki²

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.

[wheredafandomat]

Queen of the nine

Loki x female queen! Reader

18+| contains angst, smut, powerful queen bitch reader!

Basically Loki is locked up and you gotta go get your man

“Loki, don’t go, don’t leave me, please.” You pleaded, practically on your knees as you tugged his tunic.

“I—” he began, glancing down at you in a moment of uncertainty before his resolve returned “I must reclaim my rightful throne.” He declared.

“B-but you promised,” you whimpered, “you said we could leave together, make our own destiny.” You sniffled remembering your own cursed fate.

“This is me making my own destiny.”

It had been another uneventful day. Between signing truces and assigning roles, there was little room for one’s own enjoyment. You had recently taken up crocheting as a hobby yet you found little time to finish any projects. One thing you could agree with your late mother on was that this job wasn’t for the faint hearted or anyone with any desire for creativity. This job was demanding, it required those who were able to remain stoic and impartial, something that was unnatural to anyone with any kind emotion. People always waited for smiles, frowns, any slither of adour, something that took every ounce of energy to not express. To do nothing was the hardest job of all. That’s why you found yourself breathing deeply when one of your chambermaids greeted you with the news of Queen Frigga of Asgards passing. In that moment, every memory of the place that you had fought to bury deep within your psyche surfaced. The moments spent laughing, learning from Frigga, walking through her flower garden holding hands with Loki, Loki. You bit your lip as you recalled every precious second spent with Loki; the smiles, the kisses, the love, the sex, the promises, the deceit, everything up until the point he abandoned you.

“Your majesty, your majesty.” She called, getting your attention again.

“Yes, sorry.”

“Will you be attending the royal ceremony?”

“Yes, could you arrange a carriage for me please.”

“Of course.”

Your journey to Asgard was a quiet one, your gaze cast over the mountains as you tried to bite down every last fragment of emotion you had, especially in front of your foot soldiers. When they looked at you they saw a valiant queen, not a weeping wench; you wanted to preserve the former. The closer you drew, the more uneven your breaths were. You wondered how Loki looked, whether he looked as aged as you no doubt did. After hearing that his conquest for Midgard was unsuccessful, there was nothing more. By the time that you had become queen, you found yourself disinterested in how Loki ended up. You did discover that he resided in Asgard again but you didn’t want to visit to be certain, you couldn’t. Now however, you wished you had, considering you were about to be reunited with the man who left you the morning after declaring his undying love for you. What if things were awkward? No, this was Loki, your Loki.

“Your majesty, we have arrived.” One of the men spoke. You snapped out of your thoughts, looking out of the casement, eyes widening as you took in the familiar gates of the palace. Before you could open the door, it swung open.

“Your majesty.” Thor greeted, offering his hand as he helped you out.

“Thor.” You smiled, hugging him tightly once you stepped out. You hadn’t realised how much you had missed him. “Although I am happy to see you, I apologise that it isn’t under better circumstances.” You frowned as you pulled apart. His smile faltered for a moment before he replied.

“Thank you your maj—”

“It’s simply y/n to you.” You noted.

“Y/n then.” He corrected himself before pulling you into another hug. You looked around, unable to resist the feeling of despondency you felt at not seeing Loki.

“Where’s Loki?” You questioned, mumbling into his shoulder.

“He—um.” Thor stuttered causing you to break the hug.

“Thor?”

“Imprisoned.” He stated.

“Where?” You gasped.

“Here.” Thor spoke, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he observed your reaction.

“Here? On Asgard?” You almost choked.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Odin has his son, prince of Asgard, imprisoned on Asgard?” You questioned incredulously.

“Yes.” He mumbled.

“Today of all days?” You scoffed getting angrier.

“Yes.” Thor confirmed quietly.

“Take me to Odin!”

You made your way to the royal chambers of the palace where Odin was currently. Thor knocked his door before receiving passage only to be pushed passed by you.

“Y/n” Odin smiled “I’m glad to see you made it here safe.”

“My condolences.” You offered, making your way to him before you exchanged a quick hug in greeting.

“Well as you know, I’ve still got a realm to govern” he shrugged, breaking the hug “not much time to grieve” he added, although you could tell he was hurting.

“Of course.” You agreed.

“Sit.” He spoke, gesturing to a chair. “What bothers you child?”

“It’s Loki.” You answered. Odin's jaw clenched before he replied.

“Loki? What about Loki?” He answered, seemingly angry at the mention of him.

“Am I right in thinking you’ve got him imprisoned here?”

“Yes, he’s a traitor to Asgard.” Odin spat.

“But today of all days—”

“He is a traitor y/n.” Odin insisted

“He deserves to say goodbye too, she was his moth—”

“No.”

“Ple—”

“No!” He thundered causing some of your guards to push through the door before you stood, gesturing them away. Once you had assured them that you were fine, you turned your focus onto Odin again.

“Apologies for the intrusion but you’d do well to remember that I’m not the child that left Asgard, I am a queen, the queen of the nine and therefore your superior. My asking was a kindnesses, but now, I order it.” You spoke firmly. Odin narrowed his gaze slightly, jaw clenching again as you studied his expression, finding it hard to remember that he wasn’t actually Loki's biological father despite their uncanny resemblance in this moment. Exhaling, Odin relaxed.

“No, you aren’t the same y/n that left here, although, I see your devotion to Loki hasn’t changed.”

You opened your mouth to answer before he spoke again.

“Very well, Loki has today, he’ll have to return to the dungeons this time tomorrow and not a moment later.”

“Thank you.” You smiled curtly before turning to leave.

“And y/n, you’d do well to remember that you are a guest in my realm.” Odin asserted almost warningly, causing you to pause.

“And yet, I’m more powerful than you in it” you answered, flicking your wrist as you turned to face him again before an apple appeared in your hand.

“What’s this?” Odin scoffed.

“A ticket” you stated “one night, one bite and you’ll be reunited with her although only briefly, your time isn’t now.” You finished in a whisper, handing him the apple as a gift for allowing you to see Loki as well as a demonstration of your power.

“Thank you.” He nodded earnestly before you left.

“Please, release Loki.” You instructed Thor.

Once Thor had left, you busied yourself in the throne room, taking the time to sit and appreciate the view from Asgards Throne.

“It suits you, regality.”

“And yet a throne would suit you ill Loki.” You answered, gaze focusing on the man walking out from behind a pillar.

“Would it?” He questioned, stepping towards you.

“You’d realise that a throne doesn’t change anything, you’d still be a Jotun, you’d still feel unloved and you’d still be angry Loki, just all whilst sitting on a throne.” You explained.

“A throne nonetheless.” He shrugged as he reached you before kneeling, picking your hand up and placing a kiss at the back of it. “Y/n.” He addressed fondly.

“Hello Loki.” You grinned, Loki reciprocating your smile. Standing up, you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You spoke into his chest as he held you tighter before pulling back, cupping your cheeks.

“Thank you, for giving me today.”

Nodding, you hugged him again.

The ceremony for Frigga was pleasant, although still. Asgard was grieving their queen, an irreplaceable force. Following the official ceremony was a party celebrating her life and rein. This event was a lot more joyous, upbeat.

A plethora of staff greeted you, having remembered you from when you were younger, praising the woman you had grown into. As well as that, there were kings and queens from other realms saluting you, thanking you.

“Care to dance?” Loki offered as he approached you leaving some of the other royals shocked at his brazy behavior; they obviously didn’t know your history with him.

“Very well.” You accepted, placing your hand in his open one.

Loki held you against him as you began waltzing around the room, nearly all eyes on you both.

“Do you remember in our youth when we’d sneak in here and pretend it was our wedding?” Loki recalled as you smiled zealously.

“And we’d pretend our juice was wine.” You added.

“Before we grew older and realised that wine wasn’t actually all that pleasant.” Loki chuckled.

“Yes, then we realised that if we were to actually wed, we wouldn’t finish the night drinking wine.” You snickered.

“No, we discovered something else.” He spoke teasingly before dipping you, your eyes focused intensely on one another’s before he slowly picked you up again, holding you firmly against him as the moment passed.

“So” you began, clearing your throat “in your conquest to take over half the realms, did you encounter any loving princesses, or maybe a prince?” You queried.

“A bit of both” he answered, a pang of jealousy reverberating through you “I expect the same as you but nothing that ever compared to my first love, to you.” He finished, his hands finding your waist as you lifted your head from his chest.

“I fear I wasn’t your first love Loki.” You admitted, Loki’s brows knitting questioningly. “Your first love, your first companion was dejection” you explained, hand running through his hair “I only wish I had entered your life sooner, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

Loki closed his eyes, hand finding the small of your back as you continued swaying.

“Maybe not.” He uttered.

Once the night drew to an end, you as well as the other guest royals were escorted to your rooms for the night. Loki insisted he escort you so halfway though you told your men to head to bed. The both of you walked, back of your hands touching occasionally. When you reached your door, you found yourself wishing the walk was longer.

“Tonight was—” you started.

“Delightful.” Loki finished.

“Yes, delightful.” You agreed, your eyes meeting again.

“Well, goodnight y/n.” Loki bid leaving you feeling a little forlorn.

“Goodnight Loki.” You smiled curtly before turning and opening the door, closing it behind you as your back hit the door with a thump and a sigh. You thought about Loki, about opening the door, hugging him, kissing him. You thought about the possibility of this being the last time you see him, the last time you touch him. Your mind swam with questions, thoughts, regrets before you decided you’d quickly chase after Loki. Turning, you swung the door open before being met by Loki who was still facing it. Exchanging a small laugh between you both, you kissed him deeply, Loki reciprocating your eagerness before you pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. Loki was quick to discard of both your clothes, kneeling once again as he kissed your stomach. He lifted your legs, helping you step out of your underwear before he was exploring your centre with his mouth. It felt like old times again, your relationship restored in a matter of hours like no time had passed. As always, he had you a moaning mess before laying you against the bed and kissing you passionately. You widened your legs as he positioned himself between them, kissing your neck as he rutted against you.

“I want you.” You spoke softly, looking up at him as you smoothed his hair out of his face.

“I’m right here y/n.” He answered, taking your hand and kissing it before entering you. You both moaned as Loki bottomed out, lacing his fingers with yours.

The sex was slow, intimate, consuming. Each calculated thrust erased decades away from each other, every round removing centuries. Your mind expunged the hurt, the betrayal, the desolation as he drove into you, chest pressed to yours. You could feel his heartbeat, feel his breath tickling your ear, feel him evading you in the most pleasant way. You hadn’t realised how much your body yearned for his, how much you had missed his tender touch, his warm embrace, the sound of him in your ear as he came. The night was a loving, sweaty, close odyssey.

When you awoke, it was to the rays of light beaming in and the feeling of Lokis chest pressed to your back as you slumbered in a naked nirvana. You stayed like that for a while, pressed together as the daunting knowledge of this being the last morning of you both like this dawned upon you. You enjoyed it nonetheless regardless of whether this feeling was fleeting.

“Goodmorning.” Loki smiled, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“Morning.” You answered, spinning in his grip to kiss him properly.

Eventually you both moved your affections to the washroom, fucking against the wall before relaxing in a pool of warmth. You sat between Loki’s legs as he pulled your back against him, both of you melting into the water.

“I don’t want this day to end.” You murmured as if your quietness made reality less real.

“I know my inamorata” Loki replied, kissing your shoulder, the familiar moniker sending a shiver down your spine “but I must face the consequences of my own actions.” He finished causing you to sigh.

“Regality suits me but I’m just lonely, Loki. I govern all nine realms, billions of beings and yet I’m so lonely, a throne changes nothing.” You laughed mirthlessly.

“As long as I live, you’ll never be alone, I’ll always be here.” Loki insisted, kissing your neck.

Once you were out of the bath and dressed, the guards began preparing for Loki’s return but you had other ideas. You couldn’t face life alone again. You couldn’t leave without Loki. Despite him previously abandoning you, you couldn’t do the same to him, not now. When Thor knocked your door, knowing Loki was with you, you began executing your plan.

“I require an audience with Odin.” You began, Loki’s brows knitting in confusion.

“Okay.” Thor answered unsure.

“And I require Loki’s presence too.”

“Y/n.” Loki called.

“Get it done Thor.”

As planned, Thor had arranged a meeting with Odin just before it was time for Loki to return. On the journey to the throne room, you briefed Loki on the plan. He agreed, still wanting to do his time. When you approached, you sauntered in confidently.

“Loki is leaving with me.” You declared.

“That’s absurd!” Odin scoffed.

“Make no mistake, he will not be a free man, he will serve his time but in my home realm.” You delved.

“I forbid it.” Odin spat.

“You cannot have a prince locked up in the dungeons of his home realm, that’s what’s absurd.”

Odin remained silent for a few moments seemingly thinking.

“I’d be happy to have your guards watch him but he will be on my soil, think of it as me taking him off of your hands.”

“Fine” Odin relented “but when the time comes, I’ll require a favour from you.”

“Simply call for me.” You agreed and just like that, Loki was coming home with you. Reunited, at last.

“Fine” Odin gave up “but when the time comes, I’ll require a favour from you.”

“Simply call for me.” You agreed and just like that, Loki was coming home with you. Reunited, at last.

“Simply call for me.” You agreed and just like that, Loki was coming home with you. The two of you reunited, at last.

[superficialdomina]

Vulnerable (Into Submission, part 1)

Series masterlist

A/N: You all inspired me, so I wrote a thing. I'm brand new and I don't know what I'm doing.

Summary: You've tricked the God of Mischief into a compromising position, and he's a bit upset about it. But he's also lustful and curious, so he's going to go along with it for a bit.

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Smut, angst. Domme reader. Sub!Loki. Sad Loki. No physical pain but Loki confronts some things. Did I miss anything? (Am I doing this right?)

You study the God sitting before you. He is seated on a high-backed stool, his long legs stretched out before him and crossed casually at the ankle. He is naked except for tight, black satin boxer shorts, his sculpted torso and thick, strong thighs exposed, his arms secured behind his back from elbow to wrist. 

He glares back at you, eyes smouldering in barely concealed rage. 

“What is the meaning of this, Agent?” He hisses. “I was under the impression that you brought me here to seduce me - not capture me.”

You laugh softly and enjoy the subsequent flicker of annoyance in his face. “Forgive me for the slight misdirection, sweet. I wanted to play with you a little, and I didn’t think you’d let me restrain you willingly.”

Almost imperceptibly, his body begins to relax at your words, but he continues to watch you intently, warily. You drink in the sight of him, the vulnerability of his position filling you with lust. 

You watch him force the sultry smirk back across his features. “I see,” he says coldly. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for games.”

You ignore his barb and step closer to him, the ring of your boots on the hard marble floor echoing around the otherwise empty chamber. You run the tips of your fingers across his collarbone and he exhales hard at your touch, his anger and humiliation at your trick beginning to evaporate. 

"Are you going to hurt me, Agent?" He quips, still smirking.

Your body purrs in response. "Do you want me to hurt you, Prince?"

"I…" He hesitates, momentarily surprised.

You move until you are directly behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders and leaning into his ear. For a moment you pause, instilled with power at the feel of the leather corset wrapped around your own body underneath your sweet little button-up dress. “Come on, Loki,” you laugh quietly, “play along - it will be fun,” you lie. Well, fun for me.

The sides of his mouth turn up in a small smirk. “I’m not sure I believe you, Agent," he says sceptically, turning his head to try to look you in the eye and raising an eyebrow. “But I am… intrigued. Show me what happens next in your little game.”

Except that this is no game, you think smugly. Give me just a little, and I will take EVERYTHING from you.

You begin to give in to the arousal in your body, letting lust guide you as you slowly move around his seated figure. Your fingers trace his perfect, pale skin, taut over his lean body, and gently draw back the loose, dark curls that have fallen over his face. Godsss, he is so vulnerable. You relish the power of the moment, willing yourself to be patient as heat rises in your core. Let it begin.

Standing before him, you begin to unbutton the cleavage of your little black dress, slowly revealing the hidden secret below. Strips of supple, black leather bound with brass O-rings form a harness that holds your ample breasts, crossing your waist in a garter belt and ending in a pair of thigh harnesses somewhere above your knees. Loki stares at you, open mouthed, a sharp intake of breath followed by a deep groan at the sight of you. You let the dress fall dramatically and step towards him.

His arms jolt as you approach him, forgetting the restraints binding his wrists as he tries to reach you. Anger flashes across his face again briefly, before his sexy smirk returns. 

“Are you having fun, darling?” You purr. He doesn’t respond, but he shifts his position on the stool - back straighter, legs bent at the knee, hips wide. You lean into him, pressing your hands into his muscular legs and letting your own thighs grind against his crotch, making him moan softly. Your leather-clad breasts are at his eye level, and he leans forward into you, inhaling deeply. You lean back just out of his reach; he makes the smallest whimper, and his eyes flutter closed for the briefest moment.

You lean into his neck and let your tongue brush his earlobe, making him gasp softly. “In that case, my sweet,” you murmur, “I ask a little something from you. A length of silk, please, as wide as your hand.”

His eyes narrow slightly, his mouth twitching, the intrigue and lust you have sparked overcoming his mistrust. Wordlessly, he conjures a long strip of soft, black cloth in the air above himself. It falls gently into his lap.

Willing participation, you think with satisfaction. Excellent.

You pick up the soft silk, sliding your hand along the swelling member between his legs as you do so. The sight of his godly cock pressing against his tight, black boxers makes your cunt pulse delightfully, and you take a steadying breath. He twitches at your touch as you deftly wrap the blindfold across his eyes and secure it behind his head, his agitation returning at this renewed feeling of vulnerability. 

“Agent-”, he growls warningly.

“Just a game,” you murmur again, moving your fingers to his perfect jawline. You find his pulse point and are thrilled to feel his heart racing. “If it is too much for you, Prince, you can tell me and we’ll stop.”

“You could not overpower me, even in this… Position,” he snaps back. “Believe me, Agent, when I want you to stop, I will stop you.”

I’m sure you think you will, you smile silently. But I believe you will be begging me to let you stay before the sun rises.

With his hands and eyes secure, you embrace the lustful feelings of control that fill you. Despite his protestations moments ago, he sits perfectly still as you feel your way across his perfect body, clearly enjoying your attention. “So beautiful,” you murmur, and he groans again as you surprise him with your tongue, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck. Your cunt aches with need, arousal blooming at both the feel of his exquisite body, and at the sheer helplessness of his situation.

“I could, you know. Hurt you,” you say softly. “One does not need great strength to inflict great pain.” You viciously bite the soft skin, leaving small marks, and quiver with delight when he jumps in reaction. 

He half gasps, half groans a response, as you continue your wet onslaught up his neck. “What…ngaa, Gods, what do you want?”. You can hear him losing control, his composure slipping, his pride gone, and feel the slick, slippery mess pooling between your legs in response.

“You know what I want, King,” you spit back at him, the switch from gentle seductress to fierce domme taking both of you by surprise. Gods, he will be mine. “I want you to submit to me. To give yourself to me. I want you to kneel before me, your lithe, taut body shaking with need and lust and capitulation.”

“Ah - so you do want to hurt me,” he sneers, trying and failing to regain his haughty composure.

“No,” you correct him sternly. “At least, not pain as you know it.” Your hands and mouth continue to dance across his body, discovering his most sensitive places as he twitches, gasps and groans in response. You gaze longingly at his thick, hard cock, straining against its containment, eager to run your hands over it. But it mustn’t be rushed. 

“I have no interest in beating you into submission, pet,” you sing, your voice swelling again with your own lust and power. “I want you to hold all that strength - that power, that magnificence, that glory - I want you to feel like a King, and a God, and still not be able to stop yourself falling to your knees before me.”

You pause. “And I know you want it, too.”

He swallows. “How-”

“Because,” you interrupt him, “you are still here.” His breathing begins to grow tight and ragged in confusion and need. “You’re right, Prince,” you continue in a whisper, your voice as soft and supple as silk. “I cannot overpower you; I do not seek to conquer you with fear and pain. But as you so elegantly put it - if you did not want this, you would have stopped me.” 

At the last words, you finally place your hands on his desperate, needy cock. You run your fingers over the soft fabric, then peel back the waistband and free its mighty weight from its prison. “Ngaah,” - the moan slips softly from your lips, the sight and feel of the perfect, pink, velvety organ too much for your contained exterior. Your cunt pulses achingly, liquid desire almost flowing from you, soaking your panties and forming a slick between your thighs. Deftly, you lift a foot and use it to slide his underwear from his lap and to the floor. Naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. Perfect.

His needy whines continue to escalate as you wrap your fingers around his beautiful length. Finally, he gasps out a single word: “W..Why?”

You smile, thrilled at his acceptance. “Ah, darling, that I cannot know for sure. But I can make a guess.” Your fingers make a tunnel and you stroke his lovely cock, your free hand gently tugging at his scrotum. 

“Outside these walls, you are the God of Mischief; poised, powerful, charming.” You keep a slow, measured pace as you continue to pump and squeeze his cock, the rings of your body harness jingling. “But it is a heavy mask, is it not, pet?” Another needy, whiny, groan. 

“An elaborate illusion - just like the rest of you.” You lower your face slightly and run the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock. Smooth like satin, sweet like cream. 

“The all powerful Loki, the ultimate dichotomy,” you continue, letting a scornful tone take over your voice. “So certain of your own superiority, yet so plagued with doubt and self-loathing.

“So which is it, God? Are you the supreme being, ruler of worlds, wooer of hearts? Or are you no more than a cruel, selfish boy, pulling wings off flies just to watch them crawl?”

He groans again, and this time you hear the genuine pain in his voice as your words wash over him. “I… I don’t…”

“I see you, Loki.  I know the depths of unhappiness you feel. Hurt by everyone who was meant to love you. Desperate to be accepted as yourself. Always seeking more - power, greatness, glory - and yet never enough for the people who should have cherished you.” 

His breathing is coming in ragged sobs now - whether from ardent desire or from the truth of your words, you can’t tell. 

“But here,” you whisper, pressing your body into his, your lips to his ear. “Here, on your knees before me - you can put down your heavy crown.” Finally, you press your open mouth against his, your tongues dancing slowly. The soft blindfold over his eyes feels divine as it brushes your face. 

“Aaaah-ngaaAAh,” he moans loudly into your mouth. You feel his balls tighten as his large, hard body shakes in front of you.

“Let go, my sweet, scared rabbit. Put down your mask. Your ego. Step out of the swirling chaos of illusion and control, that howling wind of indecision and doubt.” Now. “Give yourself to me,” now, “- your heart, your mind, your body -” NOW, “and feel the joyful emptiness of submission.”

With the last word, his body convulses, thick white ropes of cum erupting from him and splattering over his chest and chin. He is openly sobbing now, his whole body wracked with emotion in the afterglow of orgasm. You gently let him go, and he slides from the chair to his knees before you, his forehead resting on the floor with his arms still awkwardly restrained behind him.

Quickly you move to remove the blindfold and to release the ropes around his arms. “Shhhhh, my pet,” you soothe, resting on your heels and raising his head to your lap. You stroke his beautiful raven locks, holding him as his sobs subside. “Sshhhh, my love. The worst is over, my sweet, perfect boy. You did so wonderfully. So beautifully.” 

He lifts his face to look at you, wide eyed and childlike in his reverence of you. His pupils are the deep colour of onyx in the soft light. When he speaks, his voice is soft, but steady.

“My… My Goddess,” he exhales. “My Deity. Please… Please, I… Please…” He trails off, not certain exactly what he is begging for.

You smile at him, full of pride and love. “You are safe here, beloved,” you reassure him. “You belong to me - your heart, your mind, your body - completely, wholly, always. You belong to me.”

***

Continued in Part 2: Pain

Obnoxiously tagging some of my favourite writers in the hopes that you'll read and maybe give me some feedback? Xx

@lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @coldnique @fictive-sl0th

[cleo-fox]

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

[lokisgoodgirl]

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)

"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."

♥️x

[divine-knight-hand]

Now, You’re Mine

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

“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.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

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.

[simplyholl]

Three’s Company

Summary: While on a mission, a mysterious substance makes you incredibly horny.

Pairing: Loki x Bucky x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Threesome. MMF. Sex Pollen.

See my Masterlist Here

You knew you’d made a mistake as soon as you left the boys behind. Loki and Bucky were teasing you about how you had gotten captured so easily on the last mission. It was a sore subject for you, and you didn’t want to talk about it.

You walked faster down the dark corridor, turning quickly into the first room on your left. They called after you to wait for them. You should have listened. The door slammed shut behind you, the lights coming on as the ceiling sprayed a red foggy substance on you.

Your mission partners rushed to the room as soon as they heard the door clang shut. They could see inside through the small square window in the center. They made it in time to see you duck down, attempting to shield your face from the assault.

They yelled for you, Bucky’s vibranium arm pounding against the door. The door swings open, both of them running inside, the red fog surrounding the three of you. Loki was the first to grab you when it cleared. Both of them checking you out from head to toe. “What was that?” Bucky asked, concern etched on his features.

“I’m not sure.” You almost whisper. “I think it was just a scare tactic. I feel fine.” They nodded in agreement. Everything seemed to be normal. When they were sure that you were okay, they continued the mission. On the way home, you called Bruce letting him know what happened. He said he would look into it, but you didn’t have any symptoms. So he put it at the bottom of his to do list.

An hour after you made it back, you felt like you were on fire. You were thirsty, your skin tingled, and you were extremely horny. You tried taking care of it yourself, but it made it worse. You thought about calling Bruce to tell him your symptoms, but it was embarrassing. You didn’t know how you could look him in the eye tomorrow after telling him you were the horniest you had ever been.

You decide to go down to the kitchen for an ice pack when you hear noises coming from inside Loki’s room. You stop in the hallway, walking over to his door, you press your ear to it. You hear Loki moan. You have to admit, you’re jealous. Had he figured out that you can’t get rid of this ache by yourself? Or did he already have plans with someone tonight? After another moan fills your ears, your panties become unbearably wet.

Curiosity gets the better of you. You know it’s rude to just barge in, but you can’t help it. You turn the doorknob hoping that it’s unlocked. Luckily, it turns. You let yourself in, closing it quietly behind you. You freeze when your eyes land on the hottest thing you have ever seen. Loki is sitting on the edge of his bed with Bucky knelt between his legs.

Loki’s fingers are tangled in Bucky’s hair as Bucky works him with his mouth. Loki looks up when he hears you gasp. “We were wondering when you would join us.” He smiles, throwing his head back as Bucky takes him deeper. You walk over to the bed. “You need a partner for the cure, or partners.” Loki winks. “We figured it out only moments ago.” His grip on Bucky tightens as he spills down his throat.

You felt like you were going to burst into flames. “Get on the bed.” Bucky commands, wiping his mouth with the back of his flesh hand. You quickly rid yourself of all your clothes before laying down. Both of them hover over you like predators. You’ve never felt so small. Bucky latches onto the sensitive skin on your collarbone while Loki rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Bucky kisses gently up your neck, nipping at your jaw before lowering his mouth to yours. He kisses you hungrily. When his tongue meets yours, you taste Loki. You moan, pulling him closer to you trying to savor it. You suck his tongue, your hormones going into overdrive. What was that red substance? Why did it have you acting this way?

Bucky breaks the kiss to lay beside you. “Sit on my face, doll.” You lower yourself onto him, his metal arm wrapping around your waste to keep you in place. Loki kisses down Bucky’s stomach, stopping at his cock. His tongue swirls around the head before closing his lips around him. He bobs his head, as he takes him to the back of his throat.

Bucky’s moans vibrate against you as he sucks on your clit. You aren’t sure where to look. Bucky looks so hot, fucked out underneath you. But Loki swallowing Bucky’s dick is unbearably sexy, so you focus there. Loki’s eyes shine mischievously when he notices you watching him. His hand on Bucky’s hip tightens as his nose brushes Bucky’s patch of dark curls.

Bucky licks at you, but you can tell he is too distracted to get you off. You don’t mind, you’re enjoying the show. Loki sucks his cheeks in, his hand rubbing the back of Bucky’s thigh. Loki inserts a finger into Bucky, sucking for all he’s worth. You feel Bucky tremble beneath you as he shatters for Loki.

Loki releases him with a pop, his attention now on you. You remove yourself from Bucky, hoping one of them will take pity on you and get you off. You feel faint, the fire like symptoms are almost too much. Loki gets on the bed, you notice he and Bucky are still hard. You shouldn’t be surprised, one is a god and the other is a super soldier. Plus, whatever you all had been infected with had to be assisting in that department. You were used to two pump chumps who finished and rolled over, snoring before you could get your vibrator out of your bedside table.

“I’ll have to take care of you since the soldier couldn’t do his job properly. He seemed awfully distracted.” Loki jests, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. He settles between your legs as Bucky tries to defend his self. Loki bites the inside of your thigh, smiling wickedly as he gets closer to where you need him. You almost jolt off the bed when his tongue descends on you for the first time. Bucky lines himself up behind Loki, fucking into him. Unlike Bucky, Loki’s attention doesn’t falter. His talented tongue sweeps and glides, you writhe underneath him.

Bucky’s flesh hand is on Loki’s shoulder while his metal arm is wrapped around Loki’s torso. You watch as Bucky thrusts into him, the sound of skin slapping and ragged breathing filling the room. Loki licks your clit upward, closing his lips tightly around it. He suckles you as Bucky finishes inside him. You wrap your legs tightly around his head, his mess of curls falling on your stomach and thighs. One last flick of his talented tongue sends you soaring.

Your symptoms subside, but you still feel the heat threatening to come back. Loki must be in the same situation, he lays on his back, motioning for you to ride him. You hop on, hands gripping his shoulders. Bucky sits beside Loki looking exhausted. “That’s it, doll. Take all of him.” Bucky encourages you as you roll your hips, Loki uses his grip on you to set the pace.

You lower yourself over and over again. Loki’s cock hits the right spot every time. It was delicious, the way you fit together, Bucky singing your praises, the way Loki looked at you while you were riding him. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Loki tilted his hips, the angle sent both of you over the edge. When you were finished, any trace of the illness was gone. You lay cuddled together, limbs tangled, enjoying the moment.

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