#Jötun Loki AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sserpente · 4 years

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Love goes through the stomach

Summary: When King Loki comes to eat in the restaurant you work in minutes before you close for the night, it is both annoyance and fear you feel, especially when he expresses how he is rather fond of your cooking skills. What you do not know, however, is that it is about far more than just your famous stew which he requested. He wants you in his bed, all to himself; so when you refuse to accept the position as his personal chef in his castle on Midgard, Loki takes you there against your will. Captured and stripped of most of your clothing, you wake up again in his elegant bedroom only to find out about his true intentions with you... will you surrender to him, eventually?

A/N: Requests from @the-departed-patato, @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth and two anons… featuring one of my favourite AUs. It also takes place in a more or less haunted castle, @silverlightsaber. Does that count? Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 7804 Warnings: kidnapping, smut, non-con then dub-con, Jötun!Loki, Loki wins!AU, slave!Reader, mentions of assault, manipulation, blackmailing

This story contains themes that may be offensive and/or triggering for some readers. Please be aware that this is only a piece of fiction and make sure to heed the warnings before proceeding. For more information on the topic of dark themes, please refer to my FAQ.

Additional NSFW warnings: CMNF, bondage, praise, spanking and a bit of a breeding kink… this whole thing is definitely twisted in terms of consent, keep that in mind when reading!

Your favourite song was on the radio. Humming happily, you chopped up the peppers and added them to the stew you were preparing for tomorrow. The kitchen would close in half an hour, after that the restaurant you worked in would only serve drinks and cocktails. For you this meant that once you were finished, you could head home a little early and relax in front of the TV with a glass of wine. A sigh escaped your lips.

Just then, one of your colleagues stormed into the kitchen, her eyes wide and her cheeks red.

“Okay, don’t panic.” She started.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“There are new customers, they want to eat something.” Your second sigh was one of desperation.

“Did they order already?”

“No, you don’t understand… it’s… it’s Loki.”

“What?” You understood now why she was breathing so heavily. Loki had come to your restaurant at this hour? The Loki? King Loki? Swallowing thickly, you only gaped at her for a moment.

“Did he… did he order already?” The waitress nodded.

“You are making stew already, I suggested it to them but…”

“But what?”

“Loki insists on meeting you. He says he sincerely hopes he is important enough to talk to the chef himself before he serves him food.”

“What did you say?” You probed.

“I said she.”

Taking a deep breath, you got rid of your apron and nodded. You could do this. Many people wished to talk to the chef, this was nothing out of the ordinary. So why did your heart beat so fast you feared it might jump right out of your chest?

This was Loki. The God of Mischief, the war criminal, the man who had brought chaos and a new ruler to Earth—himself.

You were not surprised that you found him sitting at the biggest table in the restaurant despite being only in small company. Two guards were positioned on either end of the table, with Loki taking up most of the space in the middle. He lifted his chin when his blue gaze fell on you, an arrogant smirk growing on his thin lips and something undefinable but unsettling flashing in his eyes.

Perhaps the latter was the reason for why you could not bring yourself to kneel. Loki cocked an eyebrow when you simply stood before him instead, not quite sure of what to do with your hands.

You were extraordinarily beautiful for a Midgardian woman despite the hideous net on your hair. A beautiful body shape, a lovely face and a beautiful skin colour… and your eyes—so full of innocence. And right now, there was fear sparkling in them as well.

Thor had been wrong all along, power did feel good. Whether it was the Jötun inside of him or whether he had simply tasted blood and now longed for more of this intoxicating feeling, he did not need to know. In any case, he had the upper hand now.

So if he desired you… all he had to do was take you. You would make a beautiful little pleasure slave, he pondered, and in time perhaps even a worthy candidate for producing a half-Jötun and half-Midgardian child to ensure an heir to his throne.

“Your name, dear?” Loki asked, surprisingly gentle.

Timidly, you murmured it, trying your best to avoid his eyes. They were scrutinising, sparkling with mischief and malice. And you feared you would get lost in them if you looked into them for too long.

“The young servant to your left has recommended your vegetable stew for dinner… it is said to be quite famous.”

“A lot of people who come to eat here like it…”

“Is that so? The meal is on the house for me, I presume?” Loki continued unfazed.

You gnashed your teeth, unable to stop your fists from clenching. “Yes… of course.”

He gave you one last smirk before he dismissed you. As soon as you had returned to the kitchen, you sank against the wall and on the floor. Fuck.

Loki stayed for about an hour. He asked for your best dessert once he was finished with his stew—which he had ended up liking indeed, fortunately. Your colleague was drenched in sweat by the time they were taking their leave, not only happy to finally close down the restaurant but also to be rid of the God who had come to claim Earth.

You shared her enthusiasm. Loki was every last bit as intimidating as you had seen him on TV. No wonder the Avengers had lost against him. He looked like he was always at least three steps ahead of you.

You flinched when the kitchen door opened behind you, spinning around fast only to find one of Loki’s guards standing before you rather awkwardly.

“Um… Sir, excuse me but this is a staff area only. If you are looking for the restrooms they are to your left in the hallway, you can’t miss the sign.”

“I’m not looking for the bathroom, milady.” Milady… odd. He must have been Asgardian too. One of those who had joined Loki after his conquest.

“Then what is it? Is… is there a problem with the food?”

“There is not. The king was rather pleased. He sent me to offer you a position in his private residence.”

Your eyes widened. He did what?! Loki lived in a castle in the middle of nowhere, he had taken it from a wealthy landlord a few months back, building himself his own kingdom on Earth. He couldn’t possibly be serious. You liked your job here! You liked enjoying a glass of wine in your flat at night and you enjoyed being around humans. Loki was… intimidating, to say the least. What if you ever displeased him with what you cooked? Would he have you punished or worse, killed?

“That, I um… that is very kind. Tell him I feel honoured but I must decline. I like working in this restaurant and I would be happy if… the king returned sometime for me to…” You swallowed, “…serve him again.”

“I am afraid his request was no proposition, milady.” The guard responded but nodded nonetheless. Your heart skipped a beat. What was that supposed to mean?!

A position in Loki’s castle? Absolutely not… not even if he paid you a million pounds a day. The fact he was incredibly handsome and outrageously charming did not change the fact he was a powerful god who was now ruling the planet you called home. Of course you had noticed. Anyone saying that Loki was ugly was hands down lying to themselves.

So now what? Would you wait until Loki had left and was out of sight before you headed home yourself? You did not want to meet him again now that you had declined his peculiar offer. The guard had not exactly looked like he was joking after all.

But what choice did you have? You couldn’t ask for a lift as your colleagues were still working and serving at the bar. There were no trains or busses to your place at this hour and a taxi was way too expensive.

Gathering up all of your courage, you grabbed your bag and disappeared through the back entry, praying that Loki was already gone. His car was gone at least. You had seen it around before. It was a large black van with tinted windows.

You let out a relieved breath, following along the pavement with fast steps. You were shaking. Hopefully, the king of Midgard would not return any time soon.

It was then you suddenly heard someone chuckle behind you, sending ice cold shivers up and down your spine. You thrashed, panicking, when a man grabbed you from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist and arms, his hand closing around your throat and squeezing lightly—just enough to warn you not to move or throw your head back in an attempt to break his jaw.

“You were not truly going to leave without bidding your most honoured customer goodbye, now were you?”

Shit. “I… I… no, I… I meant no disrespect!” You choked out. Loki chuckled once more.

“Oh, I know you did not. Now be a good girl and get in the car.”

“W-what?” The black van pulled up the moment Loki let go of your throat, fear striking your entire body and paralysing every last limb. Was this how assaulted women felt? Unable to do anything but suffer their fate? You had read about many victims being unable to move out of sheer panic… and panic was what you were feeling right now.

“Get in the car.”

“L-Loki… no, I can’t, I don’t want to—“

The God of Mischief raised an eyebrow in a warning manner. “Now is that the proper way to address your king? I said… get in the car. Do not think I will not drag you inside if you disobey me.”

You were being kidnapped. You were being kidnapped. If you screamed, would it help? Would one of your colleagues or some tipsy guests be able to hear you and come to your aid? You would never find out. Loki gritted his teeth when you didn’t react and roughly yanked you forward with him. He practically threw you on the backseat, climbing in right after you.

You were about to cry out for help when he brought his palm to your forehead—next thing you knew, you dropped into his lap, fast asleep.

When you awoke again, you were no longer in the van. Instead, you found yourself in a massive bedroom in midst a king size bed. The silken green fabric of the bedsheets felt heavenly against your bare skin, the mattress like a soft cloud. Half a dozen bookshelves filled to the brim with reading material towered all the way up to the ceiling, a dark mahogany desk invited to work at in peace and the green curtains swallowed most of the sunlight fighting its way through the double window. The rest of the furniture was equally elegant—so elegant, in fact that you doubted that the wood it was made of had come from Earth.

“Good morning, little mortal. You do have a remarkably deep sleep. It is almost ten.” You flinched. Loki was sitting in the corner of the room, on a velvety green armchair. His gaze wandered up and down your body and you realised with horror that all you were still wearing were your bra and knickers. At least you were wearing a bra and knickers. Be grateful for the small favours.

There was still panic pumping through your veins, of course. Incredible fear of what might happen to you. You were shaking, your stomach churning.

You swallowed. He was staring at you.

“You… you want breakfast, right? That is the reason you took me. L-Loki, I’m sorry, I can’t be… I already have a job. I didn’t mean to disrespect you when I declined, it’s just… I really like my job, I—“

Loki shushed you, shutting you up in an instant.

“The first thing you will learn while being with me are manners. You have not earned yourself the privilege to call me by my first name yet and I expect you to address me as ‘my king’, ‘your highness’ or ‘your majesty’, am I being clear?”

You nodded, eyes wide. Fuck.

You dreaded to ask but dreaded the answer even more. “Will you… when will you let me go again? I… I have a job, I have to go back. I have bills to pay and a flat and…”

“You had a job,” Loki interrupted. “There is no need to worry about your bills as you will no longer have any staying here with me.”

“Lo-… your highness…” Staying. Did that mean he’d never let you go again?

“But…” He continued in a hoarse voice, strutting over to you slowly until he came to stand at the edge of the bed, hovering above you like a predator and roughly grabbed your chin. “At first I believe we should begin with what you failed to do upon our first encounter. Kneel.”

He let go of you at once and moved back a few steps, motioning for you to follow.

Trembling, you did as you were told, too horrified of the possible consequences if you kept disobeying him.

“Good girl.” This man defeated the Avengers. What chance did you stand? You wouldn’t make it past the door. “You see…” Loki growled into your ear as he bent down to your kneeling form on the cold floor, “I did not have you brought here just to cook for me.”

Your heart all but dropped when you realised, gasping when he pressed your face against his crotch, chuckling at your helpless reaction, even more so when he freed his semi-hard member from his tight leather trousers. Heavens, you had never seen such a well-equipped man. He would never fit into your mouth. Was this what he really wanted? An obedient sex slave who would satisfy his carnal needs after an exhausting day of ruling?

Your stomach churned—not just out of fear—but because you despised the depraved part hidden deep inside of you which felt attracted to this arrogant Asgardian arsehole. You glared up at him when he grabbed your chin, guiding you towards his crotch, moaning in complaint when he forced your mouth open and pushed his length past your lips.

“I would strongly advise you to not even think about biting me, mortal, or you will come to regret it dearly.”

Plans foiled as if he had read your mind, you pressed your palms flat against his thighs for balance, reluctantly letting him fuck your mouth with languid strokes. You could feel him grow harder instantly, his breathing growing heavier. Loki’s fingers dug into your hair, tugging at it hard as he moved your head back and forth, ignoring how you kept gagging on his cock. At least he tasted good…as far as a man’s penis could taste good that was.

“Hmm… oh yes,” he purred, stroking your head affectionately, “you are going to gift me such beautiful heirs one day.” Heirs?! Did he mean to breed you like you were some sort of animal? Breathing heavily now, you attempted to push him away from you to look him in the eye. Much to your surprise, he let you. His cock dropped from your mouth with a quiet smacking sound, a thin thread of saliva glistening on your chin.

“You look ravishing.” He said with a smile, making your heart jump. How could he be so demanding and crude in one moment and gentle and sweet in the next?

“H-heirs? What… what are you…”

“Why yes…” He stroked your cheek. “A half-human child will be able to claim not only the Midgardian but also the Asgardian throne in time.” And the throne in Jötunheim, he added silently.

“Loki… no, please… you can’t expect me to—“ You were cut off abruptly by his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair yet again, this time yanking you back to your feet and throwing you on the bed with a feinted sigh and pulled you on his lap facedown.

A surprised scream escaped your lips when his palm landed on your backside forcefully. Ow.

“What did I tell you to call me?” He hissed. Another slap. You whined.

“Your highness! Your highness! I’m sorry!”

Loki laughed—maliciously. “Now be a good girl. Get on the bed and spread your legs for me.”

Your eyes widened, if such a thing was possible, even more, your heart pounding in your chest.

“But…”

“Now, little mortal.”

Your movements were clumsy and awkward as you climbed off of his lap and did as you were told, already feeling exposed and vulnerable despite the thin layer of fabric still resting between your legs and covering your breasts. You had a feeling they would not be in your possession for very much longer now.

What you did not know was how this sort of behaviour was normal for Asgardian concubines and pleasure maids. Loki was used to manhandling them for they were enjoying the treatment and he was not about to retreat just because you thought him a monster. He would prove you wrong in time. Once you had gotten used to his birth form, perhaps… and perhaps then, he finally could, too.

He suppressed a chuckle when he crawled between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your thighs and your stomach and leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. You were so beautiful… so exceptionally beautiful for a mortal. Loki was positive he was obsessed with you already. And you were all his… for a king could take whatever he wanted. He growled once more, eliciting a whimper from you when he made what little clothing was left on your body to shield you from him disappear with but a flick of his wrist.

He dug his fingers into your knees the moment he sensed you wanting to close your legs, your cheeks turning as red as cherries. No man had ever seen you like this, not even your previous partners. It used to be dark whenever you slept with them, never giving them a chance to glare at your most intimate parts like Loki was doing right now. You were even more surprised and irritated, however, that the thought of him examining your cunt aroused you.

“Hmm… they say this castle is haunted. What do you say? Should we give the ghosts a little show?” Shivering, you wriggled around underneath him, unable to decide between feeling fear and pleasure. It certainly was strange, with them both fighting for dominance in your gut.

Loki licked his lips. He would make sure to taste every inch of you in time but for now, he longed to be inside of you, to claim you and mark you as his with his cold Jötun seed. But he was not going to take any risks.

You gasped when all of a sudden you felt cold metal wrapping around your wrists, chaining you to the bedposts. He did the same with your ankles, spreading you like an eagle all the while blatantly ignoring your wriggling until you were too exhausted to fight back anymore.

“My… now look at you. All tied up and at my mercy.” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips. He was being surprisingly gentle but that did not stifle the pinches of fear in your stomach. Would he even bother to take the time to… get you ready? If he didn’t, you did not want to imagine the pain and if he did… did you truly want Loki of all people to pleasure you and bring you to orgasm?

“Please… don’t… don’t hurt me.” You choked out, refusing to let any tears worsen your sight. Loki frowned. He almost seemed… offended.

“I will not.” He said, hands cupping your breasts and kneading them to his liking. Your nipples hardened, your back arching against your will. “Hmm… and so responsive.” He smirked at you, making you blush harder.

“Let me take you. Let me make you mine…” His lips ghosted over yours like the wings of a butterfly. You would forever associate this lovely insect with shameful defeat now. Your nod was barely visible to the naked eye but Loki did not fail to notice.

You could not deny that you enjoyed the attention. He was practically worshipping your body, even when he positioned himself between your legs, entering you without any forewarning. A moan escaped your lips when he finally buried his hard cock deep inside of you, your body having little time to get used to his intrusion before he started moving.

But the pain lasted for only a second, making way for pleasure like you had never felt it before. Your tight walls all but moulded around him, welcoming him in. You could not possibly be wet enough yet so why did it not hurt? How could he slide in so easily? Why did it feel so good?! You bit your lower lip hard to suppress another moan, tugging at your restraints.

“Struggle all you want, little mortal but I have seen the way you looked at me. You find me attractive, do you not?”

“I… This… this isn’t right…” You choked out.

“Is it not? Why? Because I took your meagre planet under my ruling?” Yes. Yes, because he was the villain. You wanted to enjoy this… but Loki had kidnapped you, enslaved you. He could have asked nicely… and would you have said yes? No, probably not… not upon remembering how he had defeated the Avengers, among them his own brother. You did not want to invite the idea of taking a romantic or sexual liking into him because he was the villain.

“I am the villain?” He repeated with a raised eyebrow, rutting into you languidly. Shit, had you said that out loud? Loki chuckled when he saw you realise.

“Oh, I see. Well, if you wish for me to be the villain… then I shall be the villain.” Trembling, you yanked at your restraints once more, even more so when the god about you, still fucking you and making it feel so good, began to change his appearance. A terrified scream escaped your lips. It was one thing to see aliens on the news but entirely another to see a man like Loki change into… into… what was he?

“You… you are blue!” All of him. Dozens of fleshy lines decorated his face and entire body now but you were too stunned to even think about how complex and beautiful they were.

“And does that scare you, my dear?” It was self-disgust distorting his voice, making you frown. His blood-red eyes were terrifying to say the least but oddly he was still the same man he had been a few seconds ago.

“How is this… possible… what are you?”

“I was born on Jötunheim, taken as an infant and adopted by Odin; a Frost Giant…” He explained, unable to look you in the eye. Your blood ran cold. Frost Giant… would his temperature not give you hypothermia? You panted. Loki noticed the worry in your eyes immediately.

“Worry not, little mortal… I will not freeze you to death. My seidr will protect you.” Seidr? Did he mean magic? Had he put a spell on you? Had he done that to get you wet too already? Or had your body already betrayed you?

Loki was ice cold but oddly… it felt… satisfying, enhancing your pleasure to the point you feared you might not be able to take it anymore. He was like a drug—one you knew if you let it consume you, you would never get free again.

His blood-red eyes locked with yours. He picked up his pace, one of his hands returning to cup your breasts in a possessive manner, causing your our back to arch and your hips bucking up to meet his powerful thrusts. What if you had already let it consume you?

“Be a good girl for me and I will make sure to make you come as well…” You whispered into your ear, followed by a deep chuckle which made your heart skip a beat. “Beg me for it.” He added.

You gritted your teeth and shook your head vigorously. No. Absolutely not. You were not going to beg him for pleasure… or were you? Your body already was, wasn’t it?

“No? Are you sure? You are positively dripping for me. Wouldn’t it be a shame to deny your body the release it is so desperately yearning for?”

“I am… not… begging… you…” You spat through gritted teeth, unable to form a proper sentence as he was still rutting into you.

“Oh but you will…” Loki sped up, your breasts bouncing with every single stroke. He knew exactly what he was doing, hitting just the right spots promising even more pleasure deep inside of you but it wasn’t quite enough to toss you over the edge. He was right. Your body was aching for relief. Would he truly deny you if you did not beg him? How long would you be able to take it, day in and out? Panicking, you met his demanding gaze.

“Oh fine! Fine! Please…”

“Please what, little mortal?”

“Let me come! Please, your highness!”

“Good girl…” He purred. Loki’s lips came crashing down on yours, forcing you into a passionate and dominant kiss. His cold and wet tongue slipped into your mouth all the while a tingling sensation spread all over your clit. Magic. It had to be. Whatever spell it was he was using on you, it was playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, kneading and massaging and licking and sucking all at the same time. Loki had you on the brink of orgasm within seconds.

“Oh… oh fuck…”

He groaned, plunging into you a few more times before he stilled, coating your quim with his cold Jötun seed. Loki’s rock-hard member jerked against your walls, triggering your own release. You came for him with a reluctant squeal, your restraints cutting into your skin as you tensed up. Numbing waves of pleasure drowned your body in pure blissful sensations.

Fuck… you did not regret this one bit.

Only once he had stopped twitching inside of you and let you ride out your own orgasm to the fullest, spent and satisfied, Loki turned back into his Asgardian form, the tingling sensation on your clit finally stopping before it became too much. He pulled out of you with reluctance, sinking into the cushions.

You sighed when he magically removed the restraints so your blood rushed back into your hands and feet, with only your wrists remaining cuffed together. Oh well, isn’t that just great? Your eyes fell shut. You were spent and exhausted, your mind still struggling with the fact that Loki was holding you captive in this allegedly haunted castle and yet, he had more or less asked for your permission before sleeping with you, hadn’t he? None of this made any sense. Frowning, you began to chew on your lower lip, eyes—now wide open again—fixed on the stone ceiling.

“Your mind is racing, little mortal.”

“It has to be,” you admitted. “You abducted me. How am I supposed to feel about that?”

It was then Loki mimicked your frown. “Well, you would not have come to me voluntarily if I had not simply taken you, now would you?”

You lowered your head. Would you? If he had showed up with a bouquet of roses and pralines, asking you to become the mother of his heirs? “No… I suppose not… but that doesn’t … you still kidnapped me! So why are you… you could have just… I… I thought you were a monster, as did everyone else.”

“Well, I am not.” He replied, his tone revealing he was offended yet again. You bit your lower lip. You felt like Belle from “The Beauty and the Beast”. But he still had invaded New York, no? He had claimed your species ‘craved subjugation’… or was there more behind that? Had he said this to intimidate you? If that was the case, he had not failed.

Strangely, however, you were not as scared of him as you were only an hour ago.

“W-what about my family? My friends? What will I tell them? They’ll be looking for me by now.”

“I have sent note to your relatives that you have been offered a position in my palace and that you are well cared for. They will not worry and even if they do, they will not dare argue with me.”

“Would they have a reason to worry?”

Loki grinned. “You are rather intelligent, my little mortal, are you not? They won’t… as long as you behave. Is that understood?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

Oh, right. “Yes… your highness.”

“Good girl. Now… I could do with some breakfast.” Oh, of course. Now that he had fucked, he wanted to eat. Men were all the same, whether they were gods or not. You scoffed.

“W-what do you want… your highness?”

“Surprise me. I have had everything you could possibly need for it brought to the kitchen on the ground floor.”

“So that is what you want then? This is what it’s going to be like? You want me to cook for you and let you fuck me whenever you feel like it?!”

“Watch your tone, little mortal. What have I just said about you behaving?” You glared at him in response, struggling out of spite when he pulled you into his arms so your head came to rest on his chest.

“I should at least receive a payment.” You scowled.

Loki chuckled. Now he did like your bravery and spirit. He had made the right choice with you. His instincts never betrayed him after all. “And you will. I will give you so much pleasure you will be unable to walk the next day. What more is it you desire? Dresses, jewellery, gold, Midgardian money?”

“Freedom.” You responded bitterly, lifting your head to look him dead in the eye.

“Earn yourself the privilege and you will be as free as you have been before I took you.” It took you a moment to fully understand the meaning of his words. He was serious about this. You swallowed.

“W-where will I sleep?”

Loki raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Here in my bed with me, of course. Did you expect me to put you on a leash and have you sleep on the carpet? I can ensure you, that could be arranged.” He added with a naughty grin.

“No, thank you.” You pursed your lips, resting your head back on his chest. You’d prefer your own bed of course but this was still a lot better than having to sleep on the cold stone floor chained to the bedpost like a dog. “Are you going to untie me?”

“Not just yet. I cannot trust you yet, pet. Perhaps in time… besides,” he grinned, “you positively look ravishing like this.”

Loki’s stomach growled, making you smile. That man could devour an entire banquet table in less than an hour and still be hungry, especially after sex.

The sun was rising already, boldly fighting its way through Loki’s heavy green curtains. He hummed, burying his face in your neck. “I will need some of your marvellous breakfast, little mortal.”

“I’m hungry too. What were you thinking?”

“I have sent for some ingredients to be brought to the kitchen. I have grown rather fond of your omelettes.”

“Okay.” You replied, allowing him to press a tender kiss to your temple. You were naked, covered only by his soft silken bedsheets when he climbed out of bed and got dressed for the day.

You never grew tired of seeing him use his magic. Three weeks had passed now since your reluctant arrival at Loki’s presumably haunted castle. You had not made any eerie encounters, fortunately, yet what confused you was how your life had turned out to be at his mercy and constant company.

Against all reason, you had actually begun to enjoy cooking for him, for Loki made sure to compliment your skills day in and out. Your heart fluttered whenever he called you a ‘good girl’ and, much like he had promised, made sure to reward you with many orgasms at night in return for his delicious meals.

You had to remind yourself sometimes to miss your old job, your old life. Loki made no secret out of wanting to keep you with him for as long as you were fertile—and even though he had made no move yet to get you pregnant, you knew it was only a matter of time.

But you had expected worse—torture, humiliation and daily death threats, for example but instead, Loki treated you like a princess. He was insatiable in terms of sex, that was for sure but he never failed to make you feel good as well—even if you were too tired to please him in a more active manner.

You found the energy to leave his bed yourself fifteen minutes after he had left to tend to his daily kingly businesses and whatever it was he did in his absence. In the meantime, you headed to the kitchen to prepare his omelette. He loved how you kept surprising him with tasty snacks and even sweet treats here and there; he was particularly fond of your tarts and cherry pies—and who would have thought the man who took over the planet secretly had a sweet tooth, let alone that it would make you happy to make him smile?

Grinning to yourself, you hummed a song as you began to cut up the peppers Loki had chosen for his omelette. It was fine at first—you were chopping and cutting like you had done it a million times before. It was about ten minutes in you realised that something was horribly wrong. Your fingers were on fire. Burning only little at first, they soon felt like you were bathing them in lava.

“Ow! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what’s wrong now?” Then it hit you. The peppers. Hot peppers. Shit, he should have told you! The first scream escaped your lips when some cold water did not bring much relief. You’d need an ice bucket, you’d need…

Loki tensed up when he heard your agonised scream. Jumping up from his throne at once, he all but ignored the Canadian ambassador who had travelled all the way from Quebec to speak to him about a possible and peaceful allegiance, and bolted the throne room.

“What’s wrong?” He barked at one of his guards positioned in the hallway. He must have been in the process of alerting him, for he stopped clumsily when his eyes fell on Loki.

“I don’t know, sire, she just started screaming.” The God of Mischief rolled his eyes, storming into the kitchen.

“What happened?” But you did not need to answer, what little fear of him was left inside of you all but drowning in the pain in your palms. They had turned bright-red by now, resembling a nasty sunburn and they were still burning like hell.

Loki found the culprit of your misery fast. The peppers he’d had his guards bring you for his meal were from Asgard—hot peppers which did not grow on Earth.

“Did you not wear gloves?” He spat, knowing you could not have known just how spicy they were—and reminding him once more how fragile you were.

“No! No, why would I have? I cut peppers every single day!” You didn’t even care you were yelling at him at this point. The pain was nearly unbearable. “I need to go to the hospital, Loki, please!”

“No, you do not. Come here.” Almost roughly and fully aware of the fact he was ignoring how you had failed to address him appropriately, he snatched your wrists and held them tightly. Next thing you knew, his own hands turned blue, much like they had the first night he had slept with you.

It felt like ice creeping deeply into your skin, the pain instantly fading a little. You let out a breath you did not realise you were holding.

“Get my Midgardian some cooling medicine from the pharmacy. You will recognise the place by the green cross. Tell them she burnt her palms.”

The guard standing awkwardly in the threshold nodded and disappeared, leaving you alone with him. Loki sighed in an irritated manner.

“You could have warned me about them being hot, you know?” You complained, with him still holding your palms between his. You refused to admit how soothing his cold skin felt against yours.

“Come.” He said eventually, leading you out of the kitchen.

“But… your omelette…”

“Forget about it.”

You bit your lower lip. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. We shall order some food today.” You struggled to keep up with his pace, excited nonetheless. Ordering food meant you would get to eat something you did not know how to cook yourself.

“Oh, can we get some Nasi Goreng and Sushi?”

Loki glanced back at you in an irritated manner. “Nasigo and su… what?”

“Nasi Goreng and Sushi! That’s rice rolls with raw fish wrapped in seaweed? It’s Asian, it’s really good. Besides, it comes with Wasabi which is really hot, you might enjoy that.”

Loki sighed. “Very well, whatever you wish. Quiet now. I expect you to only speak when you’re spoken to once we are back in the throne room.”

The throne room? He wanted you to join you in the throne room? It was just for a split second that you forgot how your palms were still burning like you had dipped them in a pot full of boiling water.

“But… your highness…”

“Shhh now.” You were intimidated when you rushed after him, to say the least. The Canadian ambassador stood where he had left him, dumbfounded and confused as to why Loki would bother to come to a slave’s help. But then again… he had never truly called you a slave. What if you were more?

You were about to whisper and ask him where you should sit but Loki made no move to let go of you just yet. It must have been a strange picture, him with blue hands—and you with red palms—dragging you towards the throne. He wouldn’t have you kneel at his feet, would he?

But no. You gasped, unsure of whether you should protest when he pulled you into his lap, his ice cold hands covering yours again once you had shifted into a more comfortable position. Oh. Loki raised his eyebrows at the ambassador.

“A-as I was saying, if the trade business remains open, I-I feel both Canada and the US would benefit from… from both a sustaining and financial point of view.”

“I never gave the order to close them.”

“You didn’t, your majesty! But there have been… protests given you first settled down in New York City. The US is considered wealthier than ever now, as… the capital of your reign if you will.”

“Do what you must to keep the trading going. I will not have any citizens starve to death because of a few jealous individuals’ stupidity.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Then you are dismissed.” The conversation went past you like a blur and as Loki spoke, giving commands and telling his subjects what to do, you found yourself studying his face to distract yourself from the now slowly fading pain in your palms. Beautiful. He was utterly beautiful. Graceful, elegant… his high cheekbones invited you to stroke over them with your knuckles, his jawline was to die for.

With every passing minute, it became harder and harder to follow his conversations, the burning pain in your hands finally subsiding. How many hours had passed? One? Two? Five? Neither of you had had anything to eat yet… was it six? Heavens… you suppressed a yawn.

There was only one thing you did not particularly like about this whole arrangement. Loki was tiring you physically. He was insatiable most nights, pouncing on you several times and keeping you awake. He did not mind doing all the work while you were lying underneath him, chained to the bed and looking up to him with innocent but hungry eyes. His stamina was the reason you were regularly sleep-deprived, having you nap whenever you could throughout the day. In fact, you couldn’t recall a single occasion where you had gotten a good night’s sleep without being restrained, ready for the taking.

Before you could help it, your head dropped against his shoulder and you fell into a deep and restful slumber.

Loki was surprised, to say the least. If you truly thought him a monster, you would never feel safe enough to fall asleep on his lap. He would never admit it but he felt flattered. Flattered… and slightly aroused. You were so vulnerable like this, resting on top of him like a cherished pet. Hmm, well in a way you were. But you were also so much more than that.

He barely listened to the politician in front of him anymore. It had been a long day and you were starting to become more interesting than any kingly matters. He would retire for the day and first and foremost find out what was going on in that lovely head of yours.

You had begun grinding against him in your sleep. Teasing him with slight movements barely noticeable so his visitors would not become witnesses of some heated and intimate foreplay, you kept rubbing your behind against his thighs, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth. He could practically smell your arousal.

You were having a wet dream and he would be damned if he did not peek into that pretty head of yours to find out just what it was you were dreaming. Dismissing his last visitor as politely as he could muster and ordering another servant to order the entire menu of an Asian restaurant nearby before he left, he teleported you two back to his bedroom to first and foremost finally tend to your burned palms with the cream he had sent for. He would have had no time to mix something himself to relieve your pain and speeding up the healing process, the Midgardian medicine would do for now.

You were whimpering louder now, your hips bucking up. He smirked to himself. What a delicious sight… it would be even more enticing if you were naked. But there was still time for that later. Loki took a hold of your hands, lifting them above your head. He contemplated cuffing you up but opted against it for now. As soon as he had applied the cream, knowing it would instantly bring you relief, he allowed his own hands to turn back and then lied down next to you, palm ghosting over your forehead as he let his seidr play.

He was seeing himself in your dream. Him in his Jötun form. He was kneeling between your legs on the mattress, keeping them pried open in a possessive manner as he devoured your quim as if you were his last meal, his blood-red eyes locked with yours. He growled, blue fingers digging into your hips as he ate you out, his tongue circling your clit, teasing it relentlessly.

Your sleeping form arched her back, wriggling about helplessly; a victim of your own naughty imagination. But what surprised Loki the most about this wonderfully naughty dream of yours was the fact that he was in his Jötun form. Pride and confidence were surging within him, much like the urge to make your sleepy fantasy a reality once you were awake.

Still… he could not resist. Smirking even wider now, Loki removed his hand from your forehead without breaking the connection and instead sneaked it under the green dress he had given you to wear. No undergarments, just like he had requested.

You were soaking wet, perfect for him to play with. Slowly at first, he pampered your swollen clit with skilled strokes, circling it much like his bluish tongue in your dream. He had you panting and bucking your hips up to meet his touches and create more friction within seconds.

Loki grunted, burying two of his long digits deep inside of you all the while his thumb kept massaging your clit. He curled them at your g-spot, pulling more and more pleasure from you until he had you right where he wanted.

It was then your eyes flickered open. You reached for him as soon as you discovered him leaning over you.

“Put your hands back above your head, little mortal.” He commanded softly. You shook your head.

“No… I wanna touch you…” He could still see himself in his Jötun form through your eyes. Heavens, you were still dreaming. It was almost… sweet. Adorable.

“Put them above your head. I will not have you worsen those injuries by digging your fingers into my back. Do it. Or do I have to restrain you again?” He warned with a cocky smile. You reciprocated it, just about when your eyes fell shut again and you lost all control over your body. Your tight walls clenched around his fingers, contracting rhythmically as you came undone for him, your orgasm consuming you. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, whispered and devoted. And only once you had come down from your blissful high did the connection break and you came back to your senses, waking up all satisfied and rested.

Heavens… what kind of dream had that been? You thought. You felt like you had actually climaxed. Had Loki noticed anything? You bit your lower lip. It would have been rather embarrassing if he had, no?

He stopped you, albeit gently when you attempted to sit up.

“No. Do not grab at anything. I applied the cream I sent the guard for, let your skin absorb it properly.”

“When?”

“Just now. The guard returned soon after you had fallen asleep on my lap in the middle of the throne room. I must admit, the looks of both my servants and visitors were priceless. How could they not envy me with such a beautiful flower resting on my lap?”

You were still too sleepy to roll your eyes at him. “Don’t be so smug about it, you keep me up all night…”

Loki hummed. “And yet you still do not seem to get enough of me, little mortal. Have you had lovely dreams?”

You froze. He couldn’t know, now could he? He couldn’t read minds, right?

He chuckled. “Stop panicking. I am in fact able to access people’s memories or dreams. You enjoyed yourself quite a bit, did you not?”

“Oh my God… what did you… did you…?” He grinned mischievously in response, your eyes widening when he licked his fingers clean of your juices.

“This isn’t fair and you know it!”

“Ah, yes. But I am the villain, am I not?” Humming, he rubbed his nose against your cheek, inhaling your scent while you wrapped your arms around him, careful not to touch anything with your palms.

“Are you hungry, little mortal?” You nodded. “Good. We should finally eat. I have requested a selection of Asian food from a nearby restaurant. It will arrive soon and I am hoping for your sake that this Sushi you spoke of is good.”

You giggled. “You will love it, my king.”

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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morimementa · 2 years

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Last night I dreamed about a Thor 1 AU where Loki collapses shortly after the failed coronation and it turns out he has some sort of fever that’s exclusive to Jötun and Thor’s character development comes from going on a quest to find a cure.

Free fanfic idea, y’know, if anyone wants to use it.

#Thor #Loki #Marvel #MCU #I've been reading too much fanfic #but it would be an interesting spin on things #text post #dreams

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bouncydragon · 3 years

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12, 23, 26? 👀

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

Oh boy, what a question. Hm 🤔

Well, there's my ominous monster fic, of course. Very excited about that one, when I ever finish it... Then there's Coriolanus (actor!Loki) and New York: Blue Hearts (android!Loki), but both of those are on hold until I finished editing them, which will not be any time soon.

Eh, the one I'm most invested in right now is my Frostshield fic, "I Think It's Love", which is based on my Tiny Snek Loki story. Mostly it's because it's a multi-chapter fic for a ship other than Frostiron. I like to try new things, once in a while.

What can I say about that one? Mhm, basically Loki confesses to Steve that he has feelings for him, and Steve is so dumbstruck that Loki thinks it was a mistake to say anything and that he's just lost a friend. Cue heartbreak, supportive Avengers (+ Bucky), a bit of angst and eventual happy ending.

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

I've never tried challenges, tbh. Prompts are nice. Especially when they give you a lot of freedom, though that can backfire and something that should've been simple escalates (*cough* my monster fic *cough*). Independent ideas are always nice, all the freedom you need to write something you like. I think most my fics are independent works, but inspired by something.

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

There are few things, honestly. A very angst fic with lots of trigger warnings for lots of bad things. And most recently a Pirate AU with Kid Jötun Loki, and a Sports AU with Ice Hockey Player Loki.

Ask me something!

#fanfic writer asks #thanks for the ask!#Sesil I still blame you for Windows 95 👀

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smoljojo · 5 years

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Serenades and Seidr

Summary: Loki imagine - Imagine Loki singing loudly and passionately, and then blushing when he realizes that you’re listening. Also, Loki helps you siphon seidr.

Edit: I don’t know why but it didn’t occur to me when I first wrote this to say that this my little smutty AU flurry for @maiden-of-asgard ‘s wonderful Frostbite story. Go check her full fic out!

Notes: So, it has been a hot minute since I posted my last Loki drabble, but I’m back baby! I’m honestly not sure how I feel about this one but I’ve had it in my drafts for the longest time and thought I’d might as well post it before I start up my first multi-chapter fic. Hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Loki/reader

Word count: 1653

Warnings: Fluff, mild embarrassment, some semi-steamy kisses but no actual smut

Rating: T

~~~

You huff in annoyance after you finish your third failed attempt at seamlessly connecting the arms of the figure you’re drawing to it’s torso. The paper is slightly wrinkled and the faint marks of half-erased pencil strokes are visible surrounding the shoulders, both of which provoke you to crumple the paper and chuck it at the far wall. The crude ball, quite pathetically, only makes it halfway across the room before landing in the middle of the royal Asgardian rug of yours and Loki’s shared drawing room, only furthering your ire. You drag yourself out of your cushioned chair to pick up the trash, but your body stills before you can even get close to your miserable paper ball.

The faintest sound of someone singing drifts across the empty space, seeming to originate from the room separated from the one you’re currently in by large, heavy doors. The only person it could’ve been was Loki.. but you’d never heard him sing before, and he certainly never boasted about this secret talent. You silently pad over to said doors, and gently press your ear against the cool wood.

The lyrics are indecipherable but the melody is sweet and soothing. You sigh and lean more of your weight against the door as the song continues, picturing Loki mindlessly singing this tune while preparing for his meeting with the lords from the coast and various other members of the Jötun royal family. The thought of him positioning his golden, horned helmet over his raven hair as the tune slips through his throat is enough to give you the courage to crack open the door for a peak, praying the Norns will let you slip into the room undetected.

The hinges make the tiniest of groans, but Loki’s voice, of which is much clearer now, never falters, encouraging you to sneak through the opening and slowly shut the door behind you.

He’s lying fully dressed on his back on the bed when you spot him, illustrating glowing runes and symbols you recognized from one of his many spellbooks, in the air in front of him. The figures of light seem to dance along with his voice as he waves his hand half-heartedly.

“Would you like to try?”

The question shocks you, of course a part of you had suspected he was aware of your presence but you kind of hoped he’d let you watch him for a moment.

“What do you mean?” You ask, tentatively closing the distance between you both when he sits up. “Try magic? You know I’m no good.”

“You mustn't doubt your ability, most mortals only dream of being able siphon seidr, much less being able to harness it - come here.”

You fold your legs under you when you sit down next to him on the bed of furs, “also, when were you going to mention that you can sing?”

His ears tint the slightest shade of red and he runs his large hands down the sides of your arms, shoulder to elbow, as a distraction, “shh, one thing at a time.”

“You know I’m going to make you sing for me later ri-“

You’re cut off when he presses one his long, lean fingers against your lips, “How about this, I’ll sing for you only if you at least try practicing simple seidr.”

You cringe at the thought of another embarrassing, failed attempt at spell-casting, but the promise of being serenaded puts your mind at ease.

“Alright.”

He smiles brilliantly at you, adorably giddy like a child. “Do you rememberer the sigil I showed you, the aegishjalmur?”

You try visualizing the relatively simple symbol in your mind, “I believe so.”

“Good, you’re going to try to do what I was doing when you walked in,” he tells you, “all you are going to do is try to produce the sigil in the air.”

He makes it look easy when he waves his hand, demonstrating the movements required.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs you, and you obey, “first, try to harness the power.”

“Easier said than done, Lokes.”

“I was getting there,” he teases gently, chuckling, “clear your mind, you’ll sense the pull of the seidr’s power if you focus.”

You try to do as he says, and when you feel no magical “pull”, you start to get frustrated and huff.

“It’s not working,” you almost cringe at how petulant you sound, but the embarrassment of yet another failed seidr attempt makes your face burn, and you’ve no doubt your face displays your crushed emotions as well. “Don’t you have a meeting or something to get to, anyway?”

“They’ll live. Besides, a king is never late,” he rubs soothing circles into the outsides of your thighs, just firm enough to calm you, light enough to not distract you.

You focus on your breathing, searching for that ever elusive “pull”. You’re about to give up hope when you see a ball of light flash behind your eyelids. You frown and try to follow it, like a magnet, it draws you towards it.

“I see something,” you tell Loki, your voice no longer containing the disconcerted tone of before, but a newfound sense of awe and excitement. “It’s some form of light? It’s drawing me towards it.”

“Draw it towards you, darling. You need to control it, harness it yourself or it will consume you.”

The warning, despite being delivered without any apprehension, sends a bolt of fear down your spine, the idea of being consumed by an unknown magical force doesn’t exactly sound fun. You find the burning ball again, but you don’t follow or entertain it when it darts about, instead willing it to come to you. The light becomes less fleeting but is still stubborn, so you try harder. You can’t help but feel ridiculous when you frown in concentration, using every bit of your will power and feeling quite like Eleven from Stranger Things in order to rope in the ball. After what seems like forever, the light finally falls within what you can only describe as your mental grasp.

“I have it!” You exclaim, grinning and letting out a small giggle in your exhilaration.

You hear Loki chuckle along with you. “Good, good. Place the seidr’s power in your hands.”

You drag the light closer to you, close enough to feel it’s power warm your chest, you direct that power to your fingertips the best that you can, but you’re not sure if it’s working.

“Open your eyes, love”

You slowly creak your eyes open to reveal a glowing, golden mist enveloping your hands. You squeal in shock and happiness, causing Loki to bark out a laugh.

“I’m actually doing it!”

“Indeed you are, darling,” he encourages with the biggest smile adorning his beautiful face. “You’re not done yet, though. Visualize the aegishjalmur, and trace the design in front of you if it helps.”

You do as much but for a moment, nothing happens. Refusing to allow yourself to get upset again, you try again, and the slightest outline of a circular symbol appears between your hands.

You gasp in elation and bite your lip in determination to make the sigil more visible. Slowly but surely, a golden aegishjalmur begins to glow brightly and proudly between Loki and you.

“I did it, baby!” You laugh and twirl the figure with your fingers.

Loki twists his hands in order to allow his own aegishjalmur to dance with yours.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Loki’s voice is low, just above a whisper.

“They are,” you reply without hesitation.

The green and gold sigils dance around each other, seeming to move to an inaudible rhythm. After a moment, you let yours fade away, a loopy grin etched onto your face.

“Thank you, Loki,” your eyes flicker up to meet his to find him watching you with a loving smile pulling at his own lips. Your breath hitches when his eyes flick down to your lips.

“You’re beautiful when you smile, you know that?” He’s already leaning towards you before he finishes complimenting you, and your lips meet before you have the chance to reply.

His mouth is warm and inviting, even in his Jotun form, he gently pushes you onto your back and moves over you. His hands make quick work with your hair, pushing it out of your face and allowing access to your neck. You feel your blush travel from your face to your chest and a low rumble erupts from his throat as he nips your jaw with his sharp teeth.

“Gorgeous,” he growls into the crevice between the corner of your jaw and the flesh just below your ear.

You sigh happily and intertwine your fingers into his hair, keeping him pressed hard against you.

“My King, your presence is requested in the throne room by her Highness Lady Fárbauti.”

The interruption takes you both by surprise and the whine of displeasure does not go unheard from the said King in your arms. His childishness would make you laugh if you weren’t frustrated from the intrusion yourself.

“Inform her Highness that the King will be down in just a moment,” he calls out in the vague direction of the door, his voice booming with an underlying tone of annoyance.

His earlier promise pops into your mind when he peels himself away from you.

“You owe me a song when you return,” the smile you give him is cheeky and his responding groan makes you cough out a laugh.

“I suppose a promise is a promise,” he reluctantly recedes as he smooths out his leather armor. “I’ll send for a servant to bring you food if you wish?”

“That sounds great,” you cross your arms behind your head, a blissed out expression adorning your features.

He leans down to place one last sweet, chaste kiss on your forehead, “In case you’ve fallen asleep before I return, rest easy my little drottning.”

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jotunn-scholar · 2 years

Photo

Posting this here again, because DeviantArt has decided to steal all of their contributors’ art and use it for their shitty AI.

#My writing #SHIELD INDEX files #Two Sons #Thor Odinson #Jötun Loki AU

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jotun-design-party · 8 months

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welcome to jötun design party!

run by @magpie-murder

@jotun-design-party is dedicated to both my upcoming jötun design contest (most likely from Nov 26 through Dec 16, with a winner announcement on the 17th), as well as fandom discussions, headcanons about jötunheim, and all things icy. i will also be reblogging some jötun loki art to this blog, as well as posts about orientalism and how to spot racism in our corner of the internet

#pinned post #jotun loki #jötun loki #marvel #jötun loki contest #jotun design party #loki fanart #loki fandom #loki au #loki art #loki

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modestlyabsurd · 4 years

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Survival Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

So far, a few things have been discovered through your Asgardian-Jötun defense training: for one, Loki is literally a soldier. Well actually, a warrior. He's a goddamn fighting machine. For some odd reason that has never crossed your mind. With the privilege of guns and bows and knives, exactly how skilled he is in hand-to-hand combat has never really come into play.

The second thing you've learned is just how unskilled you are in hand-to-hand combat.

It's embarrassing when you think about it. Of course, thinking about it is what got you knocked down with a blade to your throat probably eight out of ten times. Oh yeah, Loki wasn't fucking around. He showed you a few things. Without any weapons, you're shit.

You shudder to think what you'd be without him. Dead? No, probably worse. In a lot of ways.

He lay, after finally giving in to slumber a few hours ago, under a pink mildewy comforter on the mattress. He'd trained you all night and well into the morning. Gone was the bright springy sun from yesterday, and in its place was a grayish blue sky covered in fish-scale clouds. That's always a sign of a cold front, but damn, how could it get any colder? Surely some sort of solar collapse would take place if it did. Regardless, that meant problems.

The physical training had not been the best thing for Loki to do. He won't admit it because he's as stubborn as a jackass. But he's hungry.

Despite feeling the effects of not sleeping much after taking the Advil, you got up at daybreak when the light came in the kitchen window and reviewed your stocks. You already know it's bad but that doesn't matter; Loki's gonna eat today even if you have to force feed him.

Not that you could possibly restrain him long enough to do so. Not that you could restrain him at all ... God, you're sore from training with a famished person. It was nice, though.

Loki had already replaced the food into your backpacks, but he left the notepad open on the counter with them. At first you struggle to read his ridiculously pretty, loopy cursive handwriting. It's prettier than your grandma's.

18.2.2020

x1 tinned pineapple

x2 tinned tuna fish (cat food)

x1 handisnacks cheese and crackers (what?)

x1 smashed cereal bar

a bit of peanut butter.

We MUST find more.

"Well no shit, Sherlock," you mumble.

The logical option is obvious. You dig into your backpack and find the cans of tuna, as Loki begins to stir in his sleep. Green eyes shine from across the room and long arms emerge from the blanket like butterfly wings. You can't help but grin a little.

He groans upon seeing you. "Good morning."

"Morning. Nice hair."

"Mm, yes. The morning after look suits you nicely as well," he murmurs. Damn your burning face.

"You wish."

Loki sits upright and slowly stands up, looking around the heart of this small house. As if it didn't look bad enough, it became sparring grounds last night. Everything was fine - until he decided to reverse the roles and let you practice a bit. Scattered glass from broken artwork, a dented kitchen cabinet, and now one of the floor boards is bowing up. Loki smiles, remembering that last take-down of yours and feeling something come loose beneath him.

You'd thought you broke one of his bones, and he let you think it. His muscles cramping from laughter and nearly getting punched in the face established the end of your first training session.

The floors creak even louder now as he approaches you by the kitchen sink. He places a hand on your shoulder with pride. "You did well last night."

You scoff, "Tell that to my ass that got kicked."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," he encouraged, his voice not fully awake. "I'm no easy teacher. But you learn quickly. You just need a bit of patience, grasshopper." He booped your nose.

"Yeah, whatever," you try not to smile. "Oh, by the way, this is not cat food. It's real tuna and you're gonna eat it."

Loki visibly gets on the defense. "Are you ordering me?"

You notice the jab but remain composed. "Yeah, Mr. Prince of Asgard, I am."

"And if I refuse?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

He shrugs. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are! Would you stop lying?!" the slam of the can rings through the walls and makes Loki jump.

"I don't need - "

"What did we agree on?" you demand.

He purses his lips solemnly. "No lies. No lies between us."

"And you've been lying about this for a minute."

"I haven't!" he hisses. "I don't know what you're so worried about but it's senseless! I can take care of myself, my body is not the same as yours - I'm not human!" The harshness of his eyes, so literally and figuratively transparent, along with the gauntness of his cheeks unnerved a distant part of your mind.

"I think you're the one that's worried."

His slightly agape mouth sighs and his eyes blink in disbelief. The harshness melts away. He looks anywhere but in your face. You're so bloody perceptive. Normally it's quite helpful, and it's one of the things he likes about you. But not when you read him like a cheap, paperback novel.

"Loki, I don't wanna be mad. I don't want us to yell and scream at each other. Just ... be a good cat and eat the fucking tuna." You slide the can over to him, "For me."

He picks up the can with pale, deft fingers, looking it over deep in his thoughts. The only other person who knew him so well was Frigga. His hidden feelings. The right things to say. The code to crack his walls. How, especially in such a tumultuous world, does someone else know the same things? A human nonetheless. Of course, he knows if he thought about it too much he'd eventually figure out the answer.

He's not sure he wants to know the answer. At least for now. Maybe even for eternity.

Having gathered the will to look you in the eye, he notices your face painted with dirt. Your hair, growing over your eyes and nearing your shoulders. The rip at your jacket collar. The healing cut on your lip.

"It seems you possess patience already. What you lack is the ability to harness it."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. "Was this a test?!"

"It was," Loki chirps while opening the tuna can, "and you passed with excellence."

More training filled the rest of the morning easily. Amidst the physicality of sparring in life-and-death scenarios, Loki assessed your mentality as well. He sharpened your strengths, which grew the fastest in your fighting, and honed in on your weaknesses. Most, if not all, stemming from your emotions.

He went so far as to create illusions to test you. Only, you didn't realize they were illusions.

Whilst showing you one of the many ways to escape someone's grip without the help of a weapon, he mounted you with his knees pinning your shoulders. Your arms useless, your neck exposed to his silver dagger. The coldness of the blade was paralyzing.

"This feeling means you're not dead and you have time to act."

"Fuck, your breath reeks."

Loki nearly loses it all. "Focus, you sausage! You have to act fast!"

You try to move what little you can when suddenly the weight holding you down is thrown to the floor. A man has Loki down and connects with a few punches before you can launch to your feet. The dagger was dropped in the struggle so you grab it and drive it through the stranger's neck, only to lose balance and nearly fall. Your hand went through air.

The man was air?!

Someone seizes your mishap from behind and wraps their arms around your throat. You distantly hear Loki scream your name before the feeling of cold, hard metal presses against your skull.

"Whatever you've got, give it!"

Once your vision focuses you see Loki, his hands above his head, begging. "Let her go. Please."

"Now!"

"We don't have anything!"

"The backpacks! Get 'em! Empty everything out!"

Loki keeps looking at you, as if he's begging you to do something. Then you remember the dagger you're clutching in your hand.

You swing toward the stranger's head. Again, your arm goes through air, but at last you're free. Frantically you look around to find where the air people are coming in. Before you pass Loki, he haults you.

"Come on! We gotta stop them - "

"Easy, darling, easy," he coos, "it's alright. There's no one here."

"But they, they are! They were here ... "

"Shhh," he grips your shoulders down to your triceps, looking deeply into your eyes. Instantly calming you down. "It's alright, darling. It was all an illusion. We're safe."

"Wh... Illusion..?" you ask breathlessly. The house is quiet. The wind howls outside. Everything begins to play out in your head again; how your hand kept going through the robbers. They weren't real. In one hand, you want to melt into Loki's embrace due to the draining withdrawal from raw fear.

But in the other hand is the dagger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you swing wildly, not aiming at anything but definitely aiming for something. Loki disarms you before you poke an eye out.

Many, many obscenities later and you're sitting on the mattress together discussing your strengths and weaknesses while cleaning your weapons.

"Your reflexes are a bit slow, but they're improving. Just when the fear is about to consume you beyond return, you recover, and you recover well. Your strikes are deadly. But that bit of time when your emotions dare to take over ... it could be enough time for anything to happen."

"Yeah, yeah. What's my grade?" you wipe the barrel of your rifle.

Loki laughs. "You've graduated from grasshopper to novice. Well done."

You smile at him.

Then, you hear it.

Far off, but approaching.

Your eyes dart toward the sound, then drift back to Loki staring back at you.

A herd.

Loki frowns, his brows furrowing above sorrowful green eyes.

"We have to move."

i aint fuckin around no more y'all. this is a motherfuckin Last of Us AU

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

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tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

All is fair in Love & War - 5

Pairing: Loki x reader Content: Everything. We’re talking violence and killing (though not detailed), angsting, illness, fluffing, scheming, master/pet, citrus fruits (one sided...but detailed), probably a lot more. But hey! No swearing! A/N: This is a semi-AU in the sense that it is in a sort of medieval/fairy-tale setting, but Loki and MCU’s version of Nordic mythology still applies. I’ve taken the liberty of tagging people who’ve reposted, but if you do want a tag pls let me know.

5. Limits

You hear the shouting but cannot be bothered to look around for what is happening. Only when the noises turn to screams do you attempt to sit up although each movement makes your head pound and spin. It takes a few tries and by then it is quieting down again but you still struggle to open your eyes that have begun crusting together, dry like your mouth and throat from too long without anything to drink. Squinting through the haze, you can see someone slumped on the floor in the hallway. Is the place under attack? Slurred thoughts dance in and out of your mind, constantly eluding focus although a part of you attempts a certain optimism in the midst of your weakened condition. Perhaps the Midgardian forces have been able to finally move past Loki’s defenses? Someone will find you, bring you home? They can’t. The rejection surprises you, although not as much as your own silent laughter, and you collapse back into the bed just as someone enters the room.

The voice is familiar. Strangely comforting. Gentle hands examine you and lift you into the arms of the person. Black hair. Soft words are cooed as encouragement to cooperate, but they are not needed as you neither can nor want to resist as a glass is pushed to your lips and the cool content dribbles in. Greedily you suck at the rim, slurping the liquid into you as if your life depends on it…which it does. That is why you whine as your caretaker stops administering the drink.

“Mmm-mo…” Despite your efforts, your voice falters.

The man, because it is a man, has understood you anyways. “I know, but we must take care, pet. It seems you have gone too long without wet or dry and we do not whish for you to get worse.” He returns you to the warm embrace of the furs, allowing you to drift in and out of sleep.

Each time you wake he is there. Tending the fire, proffering sweetened water and later broth for you to drink…or simply sitting by the bedside watching over you. As your health returns, so too does the knowledge of what has happened and who is playing nurse. It should make you wary. Instead it comforts you. Soon, you can sit up in bed unaided and eat solid meals which Loki himself brings you, and you actively strife to regain you strength through exercise in the brief moments the captor and guardian leaves the chamber.

It is after one of these intervals, where Loki has been gone for a while, that you decide to find out what happened. He has brought paper and thin, bark-wrapped sticks of charcoal for you to practice your writing while he himself sits nose deep in a book. Crooked letters and raw sketches of people only you remember litters the page before you…however, one is a figure slumped against the wall.

“Lo-your highness?” No fault in staying on his good side. He hums in a manner you interpret as a go-ahead. “When you came back…what was happening? Was the keep under attack?”

Green eyes bore into you as if to discern what you know, but eventually his face transforms into an emotionless mask. “It was not,” he offers coldly, “however I expect any servant of mine to follow my commands. Failure to do so has consequences.”

“But the screaming, sire?” The small hairs on your arms and neck are standing to attention.

The smirk is dark. Gruesome. “Consequences.” Closing the book, he puts it down and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “Understand this, my pet, although my servants do not understand much of what I do or why, they have been warned never to disobey me or mistreat anything belonging to me.” A cold hand pushes a strand of escaped hair away for your face. “Those at fault have been punished to set an example for the rest to understand that I, their new master, will tolerate nothing less than pure loyalty.”

As frightening as the words are, coming from a monster with the powers of a god, it is something else that catches your attention. “New master?”

The chuckle is surprisingly warm. “Yes. Do you recall we spoke of the Aesir-Jötun War?” You nod. “After the death of Laufey, someone else was sent to rule Jotunheim under the watchful eye of Odin. To ease the transition, a descendant of Laufey, but one who had lived his entire life in Asgard, was chosen. In blood from Jotunheim. In allegiance…to Asgard.”

The schemes of royalty and their rich allies had never been something you spent much time considering. Things were as the were and you could do nothing to influence the events either way. Still, listening to Loki, you can see the strategical value in the choice. You can also see that his whish to be called king is not as far from the truth as you had hoped because the king of Asgard would undoubtedly back up the claim.

“That’s where you went while you were gone…back to Asgard…”

Reaching over, Loki takes the writing tools from you and puts them aside on the dresser before returning to his spot. He sits in silence. Perhaps he’s contemplating what to say? You can feel his gaze burning on any part of you that is visible from the furs as if he is evaluating your condition, assessing the effect of the treatment he is subjecting you to – successfully. Though still emaciated, there is a healthy glow to your skin and your body is beginning to seem a bit fuller. Not much, but enough to help you stay warm, stay awake. He has taken better care of you than you would have expected when he first caught you.

When Loki finally speaks, it is with a severity that startles you. “[Y/N], what are your thoughts on the war between our nations?” His hand is resting on the fur where your knee is hidden beneath.

It is strange to hear your name on his lips, but that (as well as other of the names he calls you) is becoming endearing. “I…” You pause, because frankly you do not know what to think anymore. “It seems that I don’t know all there’s to know…” An image of a commander sleeping in a tent stirs in your memories. “That we, us common soldiers, haven’t been told the…the entire truth.”

Instead of pulling away when he reaches for your hand, you allow him to run his thumb over the knuckles while he talks about the journey that he has been on to visit outposts and fortify the defenses at the front, to meet with allies and spies to attain information crucial to the campaign. According to the god, things are going well, and the Midgardian armies have been forced to retreat in many areas with a minimum of losses on both sides. Perhaps he’s lying, you think, but a part of you objects at that notion. From the little you have seen just of Jotunheim, the hosts at Utgard alone would make short work of the scattered companies trying to cross the border.

You fall asleep to his soothing voice, drifting into a dreamless slumber peacefully.

… LOKI’s POV …

[Y/N]’s breathing has slowed to a steady rhythm long ago, but he still finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her thin hand. I should not be this soft. And yet, how can he not want to care for this fragile, little creature that she is?

The moment he decided to spare her life, to turn her against her own king and utilize her, he also knew that he would have to treat her much kinder than it would be appropriate in the eyes of his own people. Violence and mistreatment would not be the way to get her to do his bidding. The fierce stubbornness should be guided, not be broken…it is too endearing anyways. And that there is the problem. Somewhere, during her time as his captive, he had begun to see her as more than just a tool and a body he normally would ravish, take repeatedly until he would grow bored and then throw away. The day he returned and saw what his servants had done, he had feared for the Midgardian’s life and it had sent him into a fit of rage. A desperate panic had fueled the violence as he sought out every single one of the people responsible for [Y/N]’s care. And after he was done with them and had tended to the woman’s immediate needs, he had scoured the palace for any who had known of the disobedience. He saw to it personally that they were tied up in the courtyard and then he flogged them. The message could not be clearer: do not betray your king’s trust.

A sigh escapes the sleeping woman, bringing him back to the present. Turning in her sleep, she holds on to his hand and a tiny smile graces her full lips for the first time. She may be a mortal, but the power she is beginning to hold over Loki is unsettling and he knows he will have to do something about it.

… READER’s POV …

Day by day you grow stronger and take to pacing the room and seeking any other sort of exercise possible within the chamber. Naturally, it cannot stay hidden from Loki for long, but he seems pleased with your initiative rather then scolding you for pushing yourself and he even walks beside you the length of the corridor and back several times to study your prowess. Dark patches stain the floor as though pools of dark liquid have seeped into the wood, and you try not to think of what it must be from although you know beyond a doubt. Frighteningly, your captor seems not to be the slightest bothered by it. His eyes are fixed on your form sweating under the sudden change in activity, and when your legs threaten to give out under you, he is there to hold you in an almost tender embrace.

“Well done, my pet,” he beams at you with sparkling eyes, “I believe you deserve a reward.”

Without further ado, he lifts you in his arms as though you weigh no more than a kitten and carries you all the way to the bathing hall where he perches you in one of the chairs before calling for water.

Since you were left to die in your room, this is the first time you see anyone else besides Loki and you cannot help to feel a certain apprehension as the servants begin to hurry to and from with buckets of steaming water, but none of them dare glance as you as long as their master is present.

The door closes behind the last one, leaving you alone and safe with the god. I shouldn’t feel safe. Yet, you do…until he stoops by you to remove your shawl. Clinging to it, you are painfully aware how little strength you have left to oppose him, but rather than enforce his will with violence he kneels to meet your frightened gaze.

“I understand, little one, but you have nothing to fear.” Slowly, he reaches to cup you cheek in his cold palm so gently that you find yourself leaning into his touch. “Allow me to help you.”

This time you do not object when he begins to undress you, carefully avoiding touching your bare skin until you sit before him completely naked, arms pressed against your chest to shield your self from his eyes as much as the prickling air. With a quick movement he lifts you like a child once more, holding you so close against his chest that his heartbeat is strong through the silk of his blouse in the few seconds it takes to carry you to the large tub.

A sigh escapes you as the warm water engulfs you, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. For a moment that is your entire world: the scalding cocoon of liquid and Loki’s hand still supporting your back. You can hear him rummage with the bottles of scented oils and soon the aromas of pine needles and lavender fills the air around you, luring you to relax and lean back with closed eyes. A part of you prompts you to cover yourself while the god washes your face and hair before moving along the shoulders to each arm with lazy circles of a sponge.

“Move forward so I can scrub your back.”

Silently, you obey, gripping the rims of the tub for support as you press against your thighs to rest the chin on the knobbly knees. There’s soft splashing of water and you feel the waves kiss your face, still it is not before you feel two strong limbs slither past you on either side in the tub that you realize that Loki is sitting behind you, his legs barely grazing you skin. A hot fear rolls over you, stealing your breath in the process. Flashes of memories present themselves in quick succession: the tight grip on a throat, wandering fingers across breasts, and the hard erection pressed against comparatively small body. But it is the sponge that touches upon your back, stroking in lazy circles to allow the oils and herbs in the water to affect the tense muscles.

At some point, he hands you the sponge, prompting you to clean the last areas. Happy to be allowed to see to cleaning your private parts, you do as you are told, deciding in turn not to object as cool hands massage your shoulders. Somehow, as your own hands move downwards, you find yourself leaning into Loki’s embrace, smothering a moan of appreciation at the sensation of his chest against your bare back. Reaching between the folds at your core, you cannot be bothered to be surprised at the slickness there that not even the water can completely rinse away. I shouldn’t want this…but it is needless to chastise yourself for the smoldering need and growing trust that has arisen between you and the god.

Strong hands move to your hips, pulling you flush against him with no effort to even attempt hiding the stiff cock that presses into your lower back, coaxing a tiny gasp from you. Cradling your head, he lowers it to his shoulder, granting a view of your body disappearing into the milky waters.

“Let me –” a soft kiss on your jaw punctuates the sentence – “make you –“ this time the kiss lands below your ear – “feel –“ on your shoulder – “good.” The last kiss is on your neck, making you sigh in delight.

Loki is surprisingly gentle as he explores your curves. The big hands that have grabbed with near untamed strength on other occasions are now stroking and massaging every inch of skin, often favouring your breasts and the tender nipples that happily perk in response to his ministrations. The first soft moan escapes you when cool finger dance on a hidden path from hip to apex of your thighs. A shudder of anticipation and apprehension runs through you as Loki strokes along the folds while nudging your legs apart with the other hand before it returns to cup your breast.

The god is skilled with his hands. Playing you like an instrument, he soon has you creating the most sinful sounds and arching under his touch as waves of delight rolls through you each time he strokes, circles or adds pressure all the right places. More often than not, he slips a couple of the long fingers inside your burning core to find new ways of calling forth waves of growing sensitivity. Your own hands can find no rest until you bury your fingers in the black tresses to pull yourself closer to him and you feel a growl reverberate in his chest, feel his cock twitch against your back. Whatever the simple action has released in Loki, you feel the shift in his body and in the way he holds you tighter while kissing and nibbling at your neck before finding your lips.

That’s how you topple over the precipice. Lips locked in a first kiss, his arm possessively holding you to his chest, and his finger playing with every nerve of your core. You ride out the orgasm on his hand. Each guttural moan swallowed greedily by the god.

…

What have I done?

Somehow, you had managed to fall asleep after Loki had carried you back to your room, but you woke up before sunrise and found yourself unable to chase away the many self-reprimanding thoughts that woke with you.

Pulling the shawl closer around the shoulders, you dig the last embers free from under the ashes and add kindling with practiced hands. Soon, the flames are dancing eating happily off the firewood, casting long shadows that leap and dance with each flicker. I shouldn’t have let him.

Dressing yourself is bothersome due to the silly ribbons and impractically flowy sleeves (even though you’ve carefully chosen a dress with as little embellishment as possible. If this is the fashion of noble women, then you are more than happy to remain a plain girl from the country side. In the little village by the quarry, there is no room for these delicate fabrics and frilly laces. I should never have left – look at me now!

Then you make the bed and sit to practice the writing, carefully tracing each letter to spell out your name, Midgard, the capital Sjöblik, and Jotunheim (although you are fairly certain you must have gotten that one wrong: J-O-O-T-U-N-H-A-Y-M). Running out of names, you start scribbling your thoughts onto the paper, allowing your memories of home to guide you until you grow frustrated with your own lack of speed. Words are slow and clumsy, you feel, and the charcoal begins a different dance across the page to depict the jagged mountains so high that the snow never leaves the pinnacles. The darkness of the forest skirting the slopes rubs onto your fingers, finds the fine lines of your hands to nestle in before becoming smudges on anything you touch. Filthy.

The part of you that is an obedient Midgardian who has been raised to serve her king unquestionably feels a suffocating guilt that makes the bile turn in your stomach. As long as you remember, everything in your life has been a question of what the king needs to secure the country. Your father worked for many years in the quarry together with your two older brothers until the captain came to the village and drafted them to the war. But the king needed his taxes regardless, so your mother took over her husbands work while you kept tending to the livestock (both your own and the rest of the villagers’).

It wasn’t enough.

Next year when the tax collectors came, they took the old cow, the handful of sheep and all but one scrawny chicken. Unless you could get to town regularly to buy food, then you would have to hunt or fish. But hunting was forbidden, and even if you had had the money the town was too far away. So you went to the quarry with your mother one morning, and while the workers went to their daily task, you sought ought the foreman hoping to be accepted as a day labourer. That’s when it happened. The rumble of falling stones overpowered every other sound, the earth shook, and you knew. You just…knew. You did not need to run to the site of the collapse for any other reason that find the one or two survivors. Without warning you were alone.

That’s why you had left to join the king’s army. Maybe, you had thought, you would be lucky to find your father or brothers or at least get news of them. Were they even alive? As it turned out, the probably weren’t because the battalions they had been in had been unsuccessful in their raids of what had been called the reclamation of Midgardian territory in the north.

Now you know better.

Well, if I can trust what Loki says.

If only you could find out more. Words spoken many months ago come back on dark wings. What once sounded like a threat from the god is now becoming a promise, a viable option to consider: become a tool, a spy to gain access where Loki or other of his allies cannot to learn what the Midgardian king and his supporters are plotting. Find the truth.

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