#destruction of asgard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sarahscribbles · 6 months

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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐩, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟔𝐤

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @inklore

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The God of Mischief is laughing beside you.

It’s quiet against the happy chatter of the TV but still sends a rush of warmth straight to your heart - like taking a straight shot of Tennessee whiskey on a winter’s evening. It’s nothing like the bitter, sardonic sound he reserves for most of the team - this laughter is light and joyous and unquestionably happy.

It’s…nice, and it’s quickly becoming your favourite sound in the world.

Much like how Loki is becoming your favourite person in the world. It’s been gradual, like the first blooming flowers of spring, and, if you’re being honest, entirely unexpected. Only a few months ago Loki was nothing more than a thorn in your side. Now, you can’t imagine your life without him.

In a short space of time, he’s become your best friend and your confidante; he’s the first person you want to run to when you have a bad day, the first person you want to run to when you have a good day, and, steadily, he’s starting to feel like home.

He isn’t a monster intent on destruction or a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

He’s just Loki, the man whose happiness is slowly becoming yours.

His chest bounces beneath your ear again. You have no idea what the narrator has just said, but it was evidently something that Loki found amusing, and his laughter pulls an easy smile across your face. “I love hearing you laugh,” you murmur quietly, nuzzling even further into his side.

Maybe it’s because the man who so many people are still quick to call a villain is reclined back on your sofa with his legs stretched out on the massive ottoman, maybe it’s because he’s cradling you to his cashmere clad chest like he never wants to let you go, or maybe it’s because of the random kisses he’s been pressing to the top of your head all evening.

Whatever it is, you’re overcome with softness for him. Behind the aloof, icy facade is a golden heart, and you’re seeing more and more of the goodness that lies within it every single day.

“Is that so? Then we should watch your little mortal box more often, darling. It’s rather endearing to hear Midgardians attempt to understand Asgard,” he reponds, mirth lighting up his voice while his fingertips trail softly along your upper arm.

He misses the fond roll of your eyes only because something else has caught his attention that he must pass comment on, and you listen enthralled while he explains the actual differences between Valhalla and Fólkvangr. You’ve both been watching this documentary on Norse mythology for over an hour, and Loki has spent a large chunk of it pointing out every wrong detail no matter how small.

Each deep, exasperated sigh and pronounced click of his tongue has you giggling like a child beneath his arm, to which he squeezes you that little bit tighter. He’s proud of himself, and it makes you wonder if he’s actually annoyed by the portrayal of his home or if it’s all an act to make you laugh.

With Loki, either is highly likely.

“Do you know what amuses me, darling?” he says lightly, still trailing those elegant fingers along your arm. You expect to hear something more about what the documentary has gotten wrong, but that’s not what comes. “A few months ago, you actively despised me. Now, I believe you would climb into me if you could.” His voice is soft, leaving no room for you to doubt that he’s only teasing.

You burrow deeper into his embrace. “I didn’t despise you,” you reply with a small smile.

His arm tightens around your shoulders again and something warm and golden blooms in the pit of your stomach. It’s too soon to call it what you know it is, but you feel the flame burn brighter with every second you spend with him.

The man you’re currently twisted around is brilliant and loving and your heart fits right in the palm of his hand. It’s safe there, you know. You trust him, even though everyone you know has warned you not to.

It’s one of the easiest things you’ve ever done.

Loki’s chest rumbles with laughter again. “Darling, you despised me,” he repeats, but you know he’s smiling along with you.

You pretend to huff, but reach out to poke his side, delighting in the way he squirms beneath your tickling touch. “I didn’t! I didn’t like you, but I didn’t despise you, either,”

“That knife you threw at me in the training room after Yule begs to differ,” he shoots back seamlessly, while you force back laughter at the memory of his face frozen in shock at your expert aim.

You shrug lightly into his chest. “Natasha told me I needed to practice more.

“Darling, I can assure you she meant to practice on inanimate objects.

You tilt your head back to peer up at him with a teasing smile. “You were inanimate; you were standing in the doorway.”

Loki releases an exasperated sigh but wraps both arms tightly around you to pull you fully into his lap. “Little menace,” he replies while you pretend to squirm in his grip. It only makes him grip you tighter until you’re clamped inescapably against his chest.

Through the rich material of his sweater, you can feel his firm chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. The man is a work of art, yet it’s you who's straddling his lap - an unremarkable mortal.

He smiles at you as you continue to admire him, and it’s a smile that’s almost shy. “What’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours, hmm?” he asks quietly, resting his hands on your hips.

“You. Thinking about you,” you answer, watching the faint tinge of pink that colours his cheeks.

His hands slide up from your hips only a fraction until he can dip his thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt to trace absentminded circles on your bare skin. It’s an innocent touch, but it sends something electric shooting along your spine.

“Oh? Do elaborate, darling,” he purrs.

Loki’s eyes are sparkling with amusement, but you can read the need for praise that’s swirling deep beneath the surface. It’s one thing you can’t deny him.

“I was thinking about how beautiful you are,” you tell him, sliding your hands from around his neck to stroke his biceps. “And how lucky I am,” you continue.

The muscles in his neck flex and you feel your resolve crumble to dust. It’s been calling out to you from the moment he pulled you into his lap, and you can no longer deny yourself the luxury of pressing your lips to his skin.

Loki’s broken inhale is instant and his fingers curl tighter around your waist. Your teeth are quickly grazing along his throat while you suck a bruise into his skin. You want to mark him, to stake your claim on him.

You want to leave no doubt that this god - this beautiful, wonderful man - is yours.

“Darling, you need -,” he begins, but it melts to a moan when you run your tongue along his neck. “Darling,” he tries again.

You silence him with a kiss. It’s slow and deep, and when you tangle your fingers in his hair to tug it, he rolls his hips experimentally against you. The hard length of him presses wondrously against you, coaxing your hips to grind down on top of him. Loki’s breath catches in his throat while he kisses you, and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth.

“Darling, anymore of that and -,”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m ready.”

His eyes soften as they take you in, scanning your face for even a breath of hesitation. “Are you sure?” he asks, while his thumbs return to stroking your sides.

“Yes,” you answer firmly, resting your forehead against his. “No more waiting. Please.”

In one smooth movement, his arms are wrapping around your middle to press you tightly against him. One strong hand weaves its way into your hair while his lips find yours again. There’s a new hunger to his kiss - it’s raw and possessive and filled with a need that has been simmering beneath the surface for months.

You expect him to flip you onto your back and finally make you his right here on the sofa, but his hands eagerly begin to run down your back and grip beneath your thighs. Suddenly, he’s on his feet and your legs are locking around his waist. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, because he’s not letting you break this kiss even for a second.

“Beautiful thing,” he whispers into your mouth, effortlessly carrying you from your living area and down the hallway toward your bedroom.

The Norse mythology documentary is long forgotten.

His lips stay locked to yours until your back hits the bedroom door, and only then does he break away to curse as he fumbles with the handle. You laugh quietly - because for some reason it’s oddly endearing - and press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Loki wastes no time in kicking the door closed when you’re finally through. Vaguely, you notice a faint green shimmer cascade over the wood as it settles in the doorframe, but it’s pushed from your mind by the frenzy of kisses that Loki is pressing to every inch of your face.

“Do you know,” he murmurs, trailing a haphazard line of kisses along your cheeks, “how long I’ve wanted this? Wanted you?”

His admission fans the flames of desire burning fiercely in your stomach. How have you lasted so long without inviting him into your bed? How have you not had this man again and again until his name is seared into your soul? How have you not realised how fiercely he burns for you too?

“Then take me. Please,” you murmur against his lips.

His answering smile is soft and gives you another swift kiss. “Begging won’t be necessary, darling.”

With surprising gentleness, he lays you on the bed amongst your pile of pillows. Your legs fall open instantly for him, to which he quickly climbs between. There’s a hesitance to his movements, almost as if he’s scared to lay a finger on you.

“I’m not going to break,” you say with a smirk. “You can touch me. I need you to touch me, Loki.”

Your hands find the hem of his sweater, coaxing it along his back until he’s helping you pull it off. You’ve seen him shirtless before - many times - but your fingers still reach hungrily for his chest. Loki shivers beneath your touch and pride blooms happily in your stomach.

An unremarkable mortal you may be, but you have a god shivering beneath your fingers.

Slowly, his hands slip underneath your shirt, and cool fingers glide along your stomach to push it over your head. His eyes travel appreciatively over you before settling on your breasts.

“Enchanting, beautiful thing,” he says, leaning to press his lips to your neck.

The reverence in his voice has a rush of heat pulse between your thighs while you grasp his strong shoulders. Too many times, previous lovers have made you feel like you were nothing more than an object, something that was conveniently there for them to fuck.

Not with Loki, though. The man has barely undressed you and he’s treating you like the most precious thing his hands have ever held.

Boldly, you reach for his belt, shooting him a suggestive smirk while you unfasten it. He lets you work, diving in for another blistering kiss as you undo the button and open the zipper. The taste of him on your tongue and the feel of him beneath your fingers is electrifying, and there’s a newfound urgency in your movements as you try to push his jeans off.

After a few strategic tugs they slide over his hips, granting you the freedom to run your hands greedily over the firm swell of his ass. You can’t help but moan shamelessly into his mouth while simultaneously squeezing him with both hands. He’s a work of art beneath your appreciative fingertips.

Something close to a growl rises from Loki’s chest and he gently nips at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Are you trying to seduce me?” he purrs lightly.

Grinning, you squeeze his ass again. “It’s been my evil plan all along.”

“Ah! I’ve been bested by a beautiful little devil!” he teases and lowers his lips back to your neck.

His kisses are slow and deliberate and punctuated by the occasional nip of his teeth. You know what he’s doing; you know that every mark he’ll place on you tonight is a claim, a message to anyone who looks that he’s finally made you his.

The molten beast of arousal burns fiercer between your thighs. You hope and pray that you’ll be covered in his marks tomorrow. You want everyone to know that you belong to him.

Loki interlocks the fingers of one hand with yours, all while slowly trailing a path of kisses along your chest and down your stomach. It’s silent adoration - a god worshipping his mortal - and he only stops when his lips meet the waistband of your leggings. You feel him hesitate, feel him run the pad of his thumb across the material while he lifts his eyes to yours.

It only takes you a second to realise he’s asking for permission.

You nod quickly and breathe out a quiet “yes.”

Loki presses a final kiss to your stomach and gently squeezes your hand. He lets go to hook both sets of fingers into your leggings, taking great care not to jostle you around while he tugs them - along with your underwear - easily down your legs. You’re suddenly bare before him and, stupidly, you feel a rush of nervousness pulse through you. This man has slept with gods and goddesses and beings more beautiful than you can even imagine.

How can you compare?

Glittering green eyes travel hungrily over you. The earlier softness is still shining there clear as day, but now it’s swirling and mixing openly with undisguised lust. It causes a gentle heat to burn beneath your skin and, almost subconsciously, you attempt to cover yourself.

But Loki is having none of it.

His hands reach to clasp yours and he folds your fingers easily between his, pinning your arms to the mattress. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on,” he says slowly, making sure you hear every word.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” you repeat his question back to him, though even you can hear the shakiness of your own voice.

Loki’s answering smile is infectiously boyish. “Is it working?”

He can likely hear your heart thundering in your chest, but you still reply with, “maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

“Hmm, perhaps I need to try a little harder?” he says, still grinning impishly.

His hands slide to gently grip your wrists so he can guide your arms around his neck. It’s such a simple gesture, but it makes your heart swell in your chest because he trusts you enough to touch him. You hum contentedly and tangle your hands loosely in his hair, twisting silky strands around your fingertips as he drops his lips back to your chest.

His kisses are slower now and the warmth of his lips lingers like a dream against your skin. It’s as though he finds his pleasure from simply kissing you, like that alone is enough to send him freefalling into bliss. It’s a heady thought that has your back arching, greedily searching for more of him or maybe offering up more of yourself.

You aren’t entirely sure.

Loki’s lips travel lower in tandem with his hands that are curled around your middle. His touch is so intoxicating, so wonderfully addictive that you can’t stop the quiet whimper that slips from between your lips. You feel him smile against the skin of your lower stomach, feel his thumbs trace tiny circles against your hipbones, and when he hovers just millimeters from your cunt, you automatically hold your breath.

When nothing happens you flick your eyes questioningly down to his.

Loki is gazing at you with desire storming in his eyes, so much so that they’re almost completely black. He looks like a man starved and doesn’t break his gaze from yours as he bends his head to lick a firm, slow stripe along the length of your cunt. Electricity crackles almost joyously through your blood, setting every inch of you aflame and pulling a shameless moan from the depths of your throat.

Through the haze of your desire, you feel Loki gently squeeze your hips. “Ok?” he asks quietly.

The laugh you release is short and strangled. “Y-yes! God, yes!”

A wolfish smile curls across his face. You watch transfixed as he dips back between your thighs, never tearing his eyes from yours as he buries his tongue in your cunt. A volcano of pleasure erupts in your core, twisting through every inch of you with each skillful flick of his tongue. You groan, you whimper, you grip Loki’s curls so tightly that you’re surprised he isn’t howling from the pain.

“Ugh…fuck!” you groan when he slips his hands beneath your ass to pull you closer.

His mouth is warm and wet and talented - god, it’s talented - and when his tongue begins to lap over your clit you can’t help but buck and grind against his face. You feel him hum appreciatively against your cunt, and he swirls his tongue firmly over your swollen clit once, twice more.

“Loki!” you whimper. “Fuck, Loki, keep doing that! Please!”

He’s only too happy to grant your request. His tongue traces swirls and patterns endlessly against your clit. It’s just enough pressure and just the right rhythm that the coil in your stomach quickly begins to wind tight. Every expert flick and swirl of Loki’s tongue is like diesel to a flame, setting your core alight until you’re completely engulfed by him.

If you died right now, you would greet death happily.

Loki continues to lap at your cunt like a man starved, and when your back arches off the bed, he slips his hands further beneath your back to clamp you firmly against his warm mouth. It’s pleasure like you’ve never experienced - white hot and all consuming - and before long you’re balancing beautifully on the edge.

“Loki…Loki, please…I’m…m’ gonna come!” you say, unsure if it’s a warning or a plea.

The first tendrils of your release are licking through your core and each tiny cry that passes from your lips only encourages the god between your legs. The warm wetness of his tongue laps perfectly at your clit, making stars begin to dance at the edge of your vision, but when he moans against you - a deep, satisfied rumble of sound - you know you’re gone.

Your orgasm engulfs you suddenly and without warning. The force of it sends your eyes rolling in your head and your hands tangling in Loki’s hair like a vice. His name leaves your lips in a scream to the heavens, and his head doesn’t stop bobbing between your legs until you’re panting and boneless on top of the mattress.

Amidst the lavender haze that has settled around you like a favourite blanket, you feel Loki press a soft kiss to your still sensitive clit. It makes you jolt and pulls a strangled sound from deep in your throat, but then his thumbs are drawing lazy circles over your hip bones.

I’m here.

His lips begin a slow path from between your thighs, pressing gently and haphazardly along your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. He kisses across your collarbone and dips below your chin, making sure not to miss even an inch of your throat.

Never in your life have you felt more desired.

“Exquisite,” he murmurs before his lips find yours. "Worthy of the gods.” He kisses you deeply and the taste of you is still heavy on his tongue. It’s electrifying and only serves to reignite the flames of arousal that he’s only just quenched.

You can’t help but giggle against his lips and reluctantly break his kiss. “The only god I want is you,” you say quietly, cupping his face in your hands.

He gazes down at you silently, looking as though you’ve just placed the secrets of the universe in his hands. It’s both endearing and heartbreaking - that he’s struggling to believe he’s the one you want - and it fills you with a renewed purpose to ensure this man never goes to sleep feeling unwanted.

You tug him back down until his lips are back on yours. His kiss is slower this time, languid, as though he wishes to use every last second to commit the taste of you to heart.

A god drunk on the taste of his mortal.

“Touch me. Please,” he rasps, breaking from your lips for only a second.

It’s a plea you’re only too happy to answer. Slowly - because you want to enjoy every last inch of this man - you slide your hands from where they’ve been resting on his biceps. You marvel at the broadness of his shoulders and drink in the smooth expanse of his muscled back. Lightly, you trace your fingertips along the hollow of his spine, delighting in how he shivers beneath your touch.

But it’s nothing compared to the deep, appreciative moan that tumbles from his lips when your hands once again squeeze the smooth swell of his ass.

You laugh into his mouth and rest your arms back across his shoulders. “You are so beautiful,” you whisper, raising a hand to brush some stray curls behind his ear.

He catches your wrist before it can rest your hand back on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the centre of your palm. “You, my dove, are a treasure amongst mortals,” he says softly, all while positioning himself between your welcoming thighs. His forehead finds yours at the same time his cock nudges teasingly against you. “Let me pleasure you, darling, please. Let me give you every part of me.”

Easily, you wrap your legs around his waist where they fit like a missing puzzle piece. “If you don’t, I’ll be very upset,” you tease him.

He grins widely so widely at you that the corners of his eyes crinkle endearingly. “Well, we certainly can’t have that,” he replies, and slowly, you feel him begin to ease into you.

You inhale deeply as the blunt head of his cock slips inside you. It’s barely anything at all but already your head is rolling back on the pillow and your eyes are slipping shut. You knew Loki would feel good, but nothing could have prepared you for just how good.

You want to lose yourself in the feel of his body in yours, but before you can even draw breath two cool fingers are on your chin, encouraging you to tilt your head forward.

“Keep your eyes on me, my darling,” he commands softly and you instantly snap them open. “Good girl.”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he eases himself fully inside you, giving you all the time you need to adjust. He’s big, and every added inch has you clenching joyously around him if only to hear the groans that spill from him each time you do.

“Fuck,” he groans, dipping his head between his shoulders when you clench particularly hard. “Little vixen. Beautiful little menace,” he continues, dropping haphazard kisses to your cheeks and chin.

When you can take no more of him he coaxes your hand from where it’s been clamped to his shoulder, clutching it tightly in his own as though he fears you’ll melt beneath the cotton sheets.

You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you assure him, giving his hand a squeeze.

A quiet puff of laughter escapes him and he dips his head. You see the sheepish look that settles across his handsome face and your heart swells for him, for this man who has known more loss than many would deem fair.

You’ve barely left his side these past few months, but still he fears that he’ll lose you.

“I know,” he answers softly, sounding unmistakably embarrassed. “Forgive me. Sometimes…sometimes I still struggle to believe that someone like you chose someone like me.”

Your free hand is instantly cupping his cheek and your thumb is caressing his flushed skin. Does he know that you feel the exact same way? “I will always choose you,” you tell him firmly.

He hasn’t even been yours for a year, but you know with unwavering certainty that you would follow this man to the ends of the earth and beyond.

Loki presses his cheek into your palm and leans in to steal another chaste kiss from your lips. “My darling mortal,” he murmurs with a roll of his hips that has you groan. “My beautiful girl.”

You can’t look away as he expertly begins to build you up. You’re lost to the pretty gleam of his green eyes as they hold yours and how stray strands of ink black hair fall to frame his face; lost to the way his jaw falls slack when you roll your hips to meet his and clench around his cock; lost to how your name falls like spring rain from his lips, like it’s the only word he’ll ever need to know.

The edge crests like a wave in your core within minutes, each ripple making you dig your heels into his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, deeper. Your climax is bubbling white hot in the pit of your stomach, promising to drown you in pleasure like you’ve never known if you can just tip over the edge.

“Loki…,” you cry, twisting a hand into his hair for leverage. “Loki…I’m ready…please!”

His hands grips yours like a vice. “Look at me,” he pleads, and your eyes quickly settle back on his. “Cum for me, my darling.”

With five words, you go soaring off the edge.

Your orgasm rips through you like a storm, each blinding wave of pleasure submerging you deeper until tiny white stars begin to dance at the edges of your vision. It’s all consuming and so powerful that it robs you of almost all your senses, though you’re vaguely aware of Loki burying his face in your neck as his own climax pulls him under.

He’s ruined you for anyone else.

As the final ripples of your release fade in the aftermath, you can hear Loki panting in your ear. You untangle your hand from his hair to stroke it and turn your head to press a light kiss to his temple.

“Fuck,” you breathe out. It’s all you're capable of saying as you lie boneless on the bed, still basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.

“Fuck.” Loki echoes, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him.

You burrow happily into his side and feel him drape an arm around your shoulders. His heartbeat is still thundering beneath your ear - something that makes pride blossom in your stomach.

“Darling?” Loki speaks up after only a minute of silence.

“Hmm?” you hum back, excitement already beginning to fizz between your legs.

“I’d like to do that again…if you don’t mind.”

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

caelcstis · 2 years

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demons / pt. 3

the one who plays the flute of destruction ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / visage. ⸥ hatred &&. blood are all you know. who would ever love you? ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / about. ⸥ the screams of their curses still cause nightmares today ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / aes. ⸥ you were once so mischievous &&. carefree until they denied you ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / asgard. ⸥ little puppet you dance on your string to make your master happy ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / his puppet. ⸥ he once offered you solitude only for you to destroy it again ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / israel. ⸥ you wanted the throne until someone became more important ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / first. ⸥ you confessed your feelings &&. you decided to stay with him ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / post. ⸥ no matter how loud you scream no one will save you ⸢ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 / threads. ⸥

with a crown atop your head you will rule peacefully ⸢ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎 / visage. ⸥ you’ve never known love yet you are so full of it ⸢ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎 / about. ⸥ gold &&. riches make you a prince but your pride makes you the king ⸢ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎 / aes. ⸥ maybe the crown’s too heavy for you little one ⸢ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎 / youth. ⸥ the crown fits you now; perhaps more than it had anyone else⸢ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎 / first. ⸥ your excitement is like honey but not everyone likes the sticky sweetness of it ⸢ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎 / threads. ⸥

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 9 months

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Loki x wife!Reader Headcanons [throughout the MCU]

Thor1 Loki: He's so soft soft baby TM and caring and always so sweet to you, in private or in public. Love is overflowing! Always kissing you and spoiling you. Not handsy but is always hand holding, or wraps arm around your waist. 2x Verbal Admiration than when he courted you. Favorite thing in the world is your blush and your laugh. You make him melt and he worships the ground you walk on. Gifts, LOTS of gifts.

"i don't deserve you, y/n." "If You don't deserve me, no one else does."

💕How is the love-making?: Soft and Full of emotion! Worships your body; worships You. He'll make you understand why it's called love-making. Frequent eye contact because he loves getting lost in your eyes. Asgard who? (Odin has to forbid you from seeing Loki at work hours because it distracts him😂)

Avengers1 Loki: won't even look you in the eye, ignores your presence like his heritage. When you do manage to get a word with him, he'll Loki-talk you (i.e. vague words with ambiguous meanings that can be interpreted any way) into thinking he's been cheating on you (LIES). Not even a decent answer. Refuses to give you anything but his ire.

"You still think me a lovesick puppy, girl?" "My husband is a God who's just deeply devoted to his wife! Who are you and what have you done to him!?" "Tut tut, my darling Lorelei -oh wait, that's not Your name." *smirks evilly and vanishes*

💕Um.. love-making..?: most probably not, he's busy being Villain TM. But if you do manage to, he'll end up leaving you unsatisfied or humiliated, tossing you away like a rag doll -anything to make you think he's a bad guy (He's not. But you have to, otherwise The Other might hurt you too.)

TDW Loki: he'd still keep up the A1 facade and if you still want him, he'll be mean and act borderline disrespectful, claiming it's your duty as his wife. But in reality, he only wants to hurt you because spending the rest of his life locked up will be easier with you hating him. Looks at you longingly from his cell with an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, but will aboslutely deny it.

"I know you wouldn't invade Midgard simply for power. I know you are above that, Loki." "It is 'my Prince' to you. And, I'd rather you stick to your duties as just my wife."

💕Smut?: Sure, if you hide it from Odin's knowledge. Lots of degradation, though. You can see the apology on his face, feel the desperation on his touch and hear the veiled sadness is his piercing words. His body language is begging you to stay, yearning for you and hoping you'd understand. Once it's over, he won't even look at your eyes knowing if he does, he can't be mean to you. What hurts him should make him stronger.

TR Loki: After he shockingly discovered his mysterious survival, he ran back to the palace in search of you. But got to Odin first and.. y'know. He's successfully avoided any romance with you thanks to his disguise, but yearning is on the double when he sees the depth of your devotion.

"All-Father, I wish to petition a statue on my... late husband's behalf. Of him, of what he's done for Asgard." "He's a traitor and a convict." "Who gave his life in atonement. It was a misguided atte-" "Misguided!? Is that what you call acting against the Hlidskjalf? He invaded Midgard and took innocent lives!" "And paid for it with his own. I beg your reconsideration, All-Father." *After a long, scrutinizing pause* "The council will decide." "T-thank you, All-Father." *Loki as Odin looks at you bow and retreat, sadness in his eyes* 'Oh, my love, how do you still love me after all I've done to you?'

After evading death by planetary destruction and back in the Statesman hale, healthy and alive, he makes up for earlier. You refuse to accept, still feeling bitter, but Loki has his ways ;)

💕How so? 👀: As I said, making up. For dayyyys. Lots of apologizing, lots of begging and even the occasional spanking. Many, many rounds even. Thor is quite concerned. Wait, why is Loki carrying you everywhere, can't you wal- OH.

IW Loki: If you thought you knew how much he loves you (in Thor1), oh baby, you're about to be proven wrong. F*cking killed Thanos in, like, 2 seconds max. All it took was Big Ugly Grape-head to see you and give a creepy smile, the next minute he's lying headless on the ground, his army dissipating into dust.

"The tesseract or yo-" *gets decapitated by Loki*

❓And the love-making?: .... uh, doubtful.. Thor is busy choking your husband about why the f*ck he didn't say anything of having the tesseract. (Seriously, Thor, how else did you think he survived a planetary level destruction!? *exasperated sigh*)

And you lived happily ever after <3

The end. 💚

#loki x reader #loki x reader imagine #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagines #loki headcanon #loki x you imagine #loki x wife reader #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader #loki x fem reader #loki x y/n imagines #loki imagine #loki x reader imadine #loki x reader headcanon #loki #loki marvel #loki mcu

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vandal-flower · 9 months

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Like Father, Like Daughter

Ror men with a daughter who is strong like them.

Requested Characters: Thor, Hercules and Shiva.

Notes: It's been a long time since I wrote for Shiva. Quite refreshing.🧉

Thor

Ever since she was born she had tried to hold Mjölnir, as it was the heaviest thing known to Asgard. (I would too.)

Though many disapproved, saying she could get hurt, Thor allowed her to. "It's a learning experience.", he said.

Though she failed picking it up entirely, she was able to at least move it a bit.

As time goes on, your dear sweet baby girl has the strength of her father.

Ask her to move mountains and she'll do it in an instant.

There was a time she pulled Loki's cheek so hard, he felt as if his face might be ripped off!

In other words, he's proud of her.

"Thor darling, please keep an eye on our daughter, I fear something might happen."

"Don't worry, she'll be alright."

Hercules

Many thought the daughter of Hercules would be sweet and kind.

Though not wrong, none of them would expect she would have the strength of her father!

Carrying uncle Ares at the age of 900. Winning against Hades in an arm wrestle at the age of 1000. You know the drill.

Her bright and sweet personality makes others think that she's not that strong.

But, oh boy. They were wrong. (So wrong.)

Her temper usually gets her strength out of control.

But don't worry, you're dear husband Hercules will save the day. Even if it means a quarter of the Heavens is destroyed.

"Herc, you have to make sure she doesn't accidentally hurt someone!"

"Don't worry my love. As long as I'm here, all is well."

Shiva

He knew this would happen, the whole pantheon knew! (Damn.)

You all weren't surprised when she took more of her father than you. From personality, style and now, strength.

Prankster and problem child at heart, her father helps her escape from your eyes.

You scold both of them for the destruction she's caused.

But as the god of destruction, he makes an excuse for her.

His three other wives must hold you back from smacking sense into the both of them.

Although it's all fun and games, you can't help but blame Shiva for his influence.

"Shiva, explain what the both of you have done."

"Nothing much, c'mon you gotta stop overreacting!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still working on requests, just slow.

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv thor #ror thor #snv hercules #ror hercules #snv shiva #ror shiva #vandal-flower

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percheduphere · 5 months

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LET’S TALK ABOUT EXPLORING LOKI & MOBIUS THROUGH THE LENS OF QUEER EXPERIENCE

Thank you for this request, @nabananab

Before I dig into this juicy ask, I think it’s important to note (however obvious the fact maybe) that an individual’s unique engagement with art is an inherent and integral part of art. The intention of the artist and the sociopolitical influence of culture, while important in our interpretation of a work, are not the sole source of drawing the work’s meaning. We are all artists in one form or another. I consider myself one of the pen, and nothing is more important to me than art giving someone a sense of emotional connection. I should hope other artists would agree, and for this reason I am an ardent believer in art taking on a life of its own once it has been created. The creator’s word, while it matters to some degree, does not supersede an individual’s relationship with the creation. Our histories, our desires, our fears, our likes, our dislikes, indeed our infiniteness as fragile human beings, allow us to create an elevated, spiritual interpretation beyond the confines of original intent. With art, there is no such thing as “reaching” or “reading too deeply”.

I leave this message with all of you as we look at these beloved characters through the lens of queer experience.

LOKI

Culture influences what we see and hear, which in turn influences artistic portrayal. Setting aside Norse myth, Marvel’s Loki is a classic example of a queer-coded villain (later canonized as a queer antihero). Deception, daggers, sexual temptation, transformation, and magic are all culturally tied to the “immoral” facets of femininity. Just as a strong, independent woman untethered to the control of man is deemed a “wicked woman”, a man demonstrating gender ambiguity and like qualities is similarly judged. Only masculinity is viewed as pure and good, and this no doubt was—and continues to be—a key force in white, western colonization’s destructiveness. It all but crushed our rich global history of divine femininity, gender diversity, and romantic and sexual expression.

Asgard, as Marvel portrays it, is without a doubt a masculine-dominant warrior society. Only two women feature prominently: Queen Frigga and Lady Sif. Whereas Sif embraces her masculine qualities and fits in easily with Thor and the Warriors Three, Queen Frigga embraces her feminine powers, though her authority is submissive to the All-Father, Odin. Her influence is most heavily seen in her adopted son, Loki, with whom she shared and taught magic in hopes that Loki might “feel some sun on himself” despite the “long shadows [Thor] and [Odin]” cast. The magic that Frigga gifts Loki, however, attracts scorn. The subtext here is that Loki’s specialness, his individuality, comes from feminine powers despite presenting as a man, and a gender ambiguous one at that. Unlike Thor and Odin, he is not masculine. While strong, he does not exhibit Thor’s brute strength. He is cautious, thoughtful, another feminine quality, whereas Thor’s courageousness often veers toward foolhardy and brash.

Thus, if Loki cannot be loved and accepted as he is (a queer person of another race), he will force love and acceptance through the power of the throne. Kings oft inspire fear, coercing subjects to love them whether they wish to or not. But we know Loki never truly wanted the throne. The throne is a mere distraction from, perhaps even a poor replacement for, what he truly wants: genuine love and acceptance that cannot be bought. Unfortunately, Loki believes he will never get these things, which is why, when Mobius questions him, Loki’s desire for control (Loki, King of the Midgard; Loki, King of the Nine Realms; Loki, King of Space) can never be satiated. Mobius challenges Loki for the exact purpose of revealing this to him. What do you really want? At this point, Loki does not have the words to form an answer. In S2E5, Syvlie raises the question Mobius originally asked in S1E1. It is then, after experiencing Mobius’s friendship and the other relationships that come to being as a result (including Sylvie’s), that Loki can articulate his answer.

Loki’s othering, even before the discovery of his true identity as a Jotun (an allegory for a villainized foreign race), creates a lonely environment in which Loki’s potential for goodness is quashed by centuries of resentment, bitterness, and jealousy. His attempts at masculinity take the form of violence, all of which are, as Loki admits in S1E1, “part of the illusion; the cruel elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear.”

Loneliness and the desire for love and acceptance are a universal human experience, but they are felt far more acutely within our intersectional queer communities.

MOBIUS

His fascination with Loki is compelling because there are many things we can infer about its reasons. The first, most obvious explanation is Mobius’s “soft spot for broken things”, which is in some ways tied to his qualities as a compassionate, forgiving, and supportive father. A secondary explanation is a wish for partnership. We know from S1 that Mobius’s friendship with Ravonna spanned eons. We later learn in S2E6 that he and Ravonna started out as peers, hunters. They were partners on the field, but where Mobius “failed” because of his humanity, Ravonna “advanced” because of her ruthlessness. This change in relational dynamics left him partner-less. Finally, a third, less obvious reason is Mobius’s desire to express himself in ways Loki does so effortlessly. That desire may come from the suppression and repression of his own softspoken queerness in order to survive the fascist culture of the TVA.

Mobius is captivating for many reasons. Whereas Loki is a textbook example of culture viewing “queerness as evil”, “queerness as flamboyance”, “queerness as stylishness”, “queerness as loudness”, “queerness as sexual promiscuity and deviance”, “queerness as chaos”, Mobius very much aligns with the image of a straight-passing, repressed queer individual. This is an identity that does not get as much attention or presence in artistic media as it deserves, for there are many who need this representation to reflect them. He is not stereotypically queer by any means: he is not colorful. He is not stylish, flamboyant, or loud. His sex appeal primarily derives from the viewers’ attraction to his personality, though it certainly helps that Owen Wilson is quite handsome.

Combine these three reasons, and it becomes easy to see how a character (or person!) like Mobius might fall in love with a character (or person!) like Loki.

There is a certain amount of beautiful irony in how Loki and Mobius affect one another and consequently their identities. Mobius, feeling compassion toward an individual who has been brutally othered and oppressed, seeks to free Loki from the confines of his narrative, as determined by the “Time Keepers”. The only feasible way to do this is to bring a variant of Loki out of the timeline and into the TVA. Mobius then provides Loki with the opportunity to change by: acknowledging Loki’s strengths, giving Loki the chance to use his strengths in productive ways, praising Loki when he does well, listening to Loki, believing in Loki, calling out Loki, and accepting Loki as he is, with all his history, without judgement. Mobius does not try to force change like Thor or Odin. Rather, he creates an environment in which change could happen naturally. This kindness and, indeed, what becomes unconditional love by the end of S1E4, allows Loki to embrace his authentic queerness with self-love and use his feminine powers for altruism rather than masking them with self-hatred and masculine rage.

FREEING LOKI

In S1E1, Mobius is enthralled with Loki’s hijinks as the handsome, charming, devil-may-care, D.B. Cooper. This minor escapade in Loki’s life, which was likely only intended for laughs by the writer, reveals something interesting about Mobius: Loki’s mischievousness, his magic, his cunning, are all quite endearing to him when no real harm is being inflicted. That is, Loki, when not under duress, is someone to be admired when he’s being himself. We admire in people what we wish we had in ourselves, and this, at times, may lead to powerful attraction.

Loki, for his part, does much the same for Mobius. The environment (the TVA) which allowed Loki to thrive is also the same environment that has abused and constrained Mobius.

The heat that Ravonna presses upon Mobius, however, changes his tone with Loki himself. When Loki asks Mobius why he “[sticks] his neck out for [him]”, Mobius provides Loki with two options to choose from: “A. He sees a scared little boy shivering in the cold, or B. He will say whatever he needs to say to get the job done”. Option A, while insulting, has compassion layered beneath the barb. Loki, an expert at cloaking truth with meanness, sees through this and indirectly chooses what he believes to be true in the cafeteria scene: that Mobius feels sympathy for Loki’s painful childhood. The subtext of this acknowledgement is that the true means to the end is reversed: Mobius doesn’t need Loki to catch the Variant on the timelines. Mobius needs the Variant to free Loki from the timelines. The Variant is an excuse and another agent of poetic irony: when Sylvie unleashes the multiverse, she literally frees Loki of his predetermined narrative.

The conceit of S1E1 is that Mobius intends to use Loki for the “good” of the Sacred Timeline. It is important to remember that characters, while not real, are meant to mirror human complexity. Multiple, seemingly conflicting things may be true concurrently. In S1E2, we see in Mobius’s conversations with Ravonna that he deeply believes in Loki’a capacity to be a wonderful person and wants him to have the opportunity to change. His enthusiasm for these things outshines his desire to catch Sylvie.

And, because the Variant is Loki, because Sylvie is Loki, because, as she says, “[they] are the same”, Mobius’s own freeing of Loki, his unconditional love for him, cascades from Loki to Sylvie. Sylvie would not be free to live as she pleases if not for Mobius’s compassion for Loki in the first place.

In S1E4, Loki reveals the TVA’s sham. Mobius’s sense of self becomes fragile alongside his sense of partnership with Loki. But because of our sociopolitical culture’s influence on capitalism, the creative voices of the Loki series self-censures what could be (what is) a queer romance. This self-censureship makes itself known in Mobius’s own self-censureship. His jealousy and heartbreak cannot be spoken directly. It must be spoken through the words of a woman, someone who presents as the opposite sex. Through a looping memory of a scornful Sif telling Loki, “You are alone and always will be”, Mobius makes known the nature of his feelings for him.

BUT WHO WILL FREE MOBIUS?

In the same cafeteria scene in S1E2, Loki asks Mobius if he’s ever ridden a jet ski. Mobius’s response is demure, saying him riding one would “cause a branch for sure”. The jet ski gives the audience another clue as to what Mobius seeks in life: something fun, thrilling, and reckless. Yet Mobius sets aside his desires for what he believes is for the good of the TVA, and thus humanity. This suppression and repression of authentic selfhood mirrors the queer experience of living within a heteronormative culture, especially one with religious doctrines that equate pleasure with sinfulness.

Because Mobius extended his heart, his partnership, his love (symbolized by twin daggers hidden in his locker [a closet]; notably a male phallic symbol of which there are a pair [partners]) and was soundly rejected, Mobius retaliates with the loneliness he himself feels. This loneliness may be interpreted as an allegory for the loneliness of being closeted as opposed to the loneliness of being out but othered.

Ultimately, Mobius’s love for Loki shifts from selfish desire to unconditional love when he chooses to help Loki save Sylvie. In S1E5, it is conspicuous that after delivering Sylvie safely to Loki’s side, Mobius’s partings words are, “Guess you got away again”, to which Loki replies, “I always do”, which echos the lover’s trope of “the one that got away”.

[It drives me absolutely bananas that I can't find the specific gif I need when I literally saw it multiple times earlier this week but didn't need it THEN]

Owen’s acting choice is interesting here. He laughs, smiles, then looks down before looking up again, his eyes shifting from fondness to what feels like longing. Mobius extends his hand, a sensible choice for someone who believes his love is unrequited and is unsure of how Loki defines their relationship. Loki, appreciating what Mobius has done for him, closes the distance with an embrace and thanks Mobius for his friendship.

In S2E1, upon Loki’s time-slipping into the war room, whatever apprehensions Mobius had about physical contact was wiped away by the collapse of the TVA and the memory of Loki’s hug. In this scene, it becomes clear to Mobius that Loki is panicking. He makes the executive decision to use his physical contact as a grounding force, relocates Loki to a quiet environment, asks after Sylvie with no bitterness in his voice, then prioritizes Loki’s physical well-being. Perhaps, in Mobius’s view, his love is unrequited, but there is nothing in place to stop him from expressing that love more freely while honoring Loki’s feelings for Sylvie. This regard, which may be construed as platonic, may also be viewed romantic, courtly love.

The fight between Loki and Sylvie in S1E6 sets the stage for Mobius to receive Loki and become a refuge for heartbreak.

S2E2 and S2E3 has Loki’s and Mobius’s temperaments when it comes to investigating flipped. In S1, Mobius was focused on the mission and often had to reign in Loki. In S2, Mobius is more casual, more willing to take his time and enjoy the sleuthing as it unfolds, while Loki administers pressure to stay focused. The question is why?

In S2E2, Brad attacks Mobius’s sense of self. He points out how weird it is that Mobius is not at all curious about looking at his timeline and stresses that the TVA, and everything in it, isn’t real. Brad calls into question Mobius’s reason for staying. Knowing that the answer is Loki, we can surmise through the queer lens that Brad also corners Mobius into potentially outing himself in front of the object of his affections, someone he believes does not return his feelings, and whose knowledge of those feelings may threaten their friendship. This is a traumatic experience for queer people in the real world, and this extra layer of emotional conflict adds depth to Mobius’s violent response.

Mobius influenced Loki in a myriad of ways. One that has not been discussed yet is an appreciation for focus and order. Loki, in turn, has cracked the door open for Mobius to explore pleasure. We can speculate that, in his own way, Mobius is testing what happiness could look like living a life between the TVA and the timelines. For him, this means cocktails at the theater, cracker jacks, and exploring the World’s Fair, all of which are pleasurable on their own but are even more so with Loki’s company. His queerness, once again, is quiet, mundane, but playful in its own right, and finally brave enough to explore. These scenes suggest that Mobius is indeed happy at the TVA and, as we see in the finale, this happiness is solely rooted in his relationship with Loki and the emotional intimacy they share together.

Loki expresses concern for Mobius, noting that he has “never seen him like that before.” Mobius, interestingly, deflects every concern by absurdly blaming Loki: “He got under your skin”, “I was following you!” The psychological undercurrent here is that Loki is the reason why Brad got under Mobius skin. Loki is the person that Mobius will follow.

Loki takes Mobius’s distress in stride, responding in a way the Mobius normally would. However, Brad’s question piques his interest, and his own care for Mobius prompts him to gently challenge Mobius’s lack of interest in his own timeline. Mobius’s reason for avoidance is, “What if it’s something good?”

In S2E5, it’s interesting that “good” in this narrative is defined as a heteronormative fantasy of a house, two kids, and (possibly) a puppy and a snake. The “good” in Mobius’s original timeline, however, is imperfect. There is a partner that is missing (partners being a recurring theme in the series, particularly in S2E3), pronounced gone not once but twice. The entire scene between Don and Loki has been discussed at length by many, so there’s no need to reiterate it here. However, let’s bring our attention to Mobius’s avoidance of this “good” because this avoidance resonates with another queer experience.

The TVA, for Mobius, is the place where he studied, saved, and developed a close relationship with Loki. The fear of the “something good” is the fear of being confronted with something Mobius “should” want more than the TVA, and therefore “should” want more Loki. The fear is wanting something (or feeling pressured to want something) other than a queer relationship with no children. The question of “choice” is impacted by what is considered the “norm”.

S2E5 very pointedly focuses on the concern of choice, especially Mobius’s choice, in the bar scene between Loki and Sylvie. “Mobius should get a choice now, no?” At this point, Loki’s regard for Mobius has finally caught up with the romantic nature of Mobius’s feelings for him. And Loki, living his own queer experience, is also afraid of his true desires like Mobius. In being part of the intersectional queer community, the psychological need to guard against disappointment is high and commonplace. Desires are easily disappointed by the expectations of oppressive social mores. This survival tactic manifests itself with our hope and heartbreak with mainstream media, Loki the series being among them.

But Sylvie, the harbinger of true and absolute freedom, takes on the role of supportive ex and challenges Loki to answer Mobius’s question in S1E1: “What do you want?”

In this, Mobius and Loki’s individual relationships with the TVA are identical. It was never about where (the TVA), when (time works differently at the TVA), or why (the timelines). It was about who. It was about each other. The TVA represents a liminal space which became home by virtue of the people who brought love into it. The TVA is code for Loki and Mobius when each speaks of it.

Again, the artists behind the media must self-censure. In this, Loki also self-censures while giving the truth. “I don’t want to be alone. I want my friends back.” It cannot be denied that Mobius is Loki’s first truest and closest friend. “I don’t want to be alone. I want Mobius back.” Sylvie appreciates and validates this desire, but also points out that showing the TVA is something that cannot be unseen. The implication of this response suggests that Sylvie believes that Loki’s friends will feel compelled to join the TVA out of moral pressure. She reiterates the true lives that are being lived, and Loki, loving his friends, loving Mobius, elects to not take that away from them. “You are just fine without the TVA.”

Yet, Loki must choose an act of profound selfless love to save everyone. In doing so, he saves and frees Mobius in the way Mobius saved and freed him. The tragedy and, once again, poetic irony is that they both would have chosen each other. In giving everyone freedom, the true freedom of Loki and Mobius is sacrificed. This double-standard reflects in our reality between those who identify as cis and heterosexual and those who do not.

When Mobius looks at his timeline in S2E6, he does so for one reason: that timeline survived because of Loki’s sacrifice. He must honor that sacrifice and see what Loki protected. Mobius appreciates what he finds, but he doesn’t belong there. It is not what he ultimately longs for. And there must be worry, shame, in recognizing he would prefer to give up the house and two children if a life with Loki were a viable choice.

We all experience loss in our lives. Loss without a goodbye is also commonplace but is another pain that is more acute within the intersectional queer community. I speak of missed opportunities for happiness due to external forces. I speak of loss of self. I speak of loss of friends and family and home. I speak of death, losing a loved one without a goodbye, because same-sex lovers are not considered next of kin, an impossibility without marriage. Marriage echoes back to Don, who has no spouse, and Mobius, who has no partner.

#asks #loki #mobius #lokius #loki season 2 #loki series #loki meta #my meta #loki analysis #my analysis #queer community #queer #queer representation #queer relationships #lgbt representation #lgbtq community #lgbtqia

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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The Feast [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A follow up one-shot to Hail, Commander A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A filthy Commander Loki is ravenous post-battle. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Oral (F), Salirophilia (dirty Loki) Exhibitionism. Language.

The approaching drums were deafened by a low roar from Loki’s throat as he came undone. It was harsh. Ragged. It was fierce. The rush of hot breath flooded your ear, carrying the syllables of your name on wings of relief. His grip on the cape wrapped around you both loosened as he rocked you; held against the sharp drop of the balustrade safely in his arms.

“My love…” you whispered against his moist, dirt soaked brow, as Loki panted heavily into the curve of your neck. He hummed drowsily in response, hips continuing a gentle thrust to the beat of the victory procession hundreds of feet below. The heat of your lovemaking had warmed the primal scent clinging to his scalp, its tendrils winding their way deeper into your senses. The first time he had returned from battle, it had disgusted you. For a moment, at least. But now, your body only wanted more. It meant victory. It meant glory. It meant days of violently passionate fucking while he shook off the animalism and barbarity of war. You ran your fingers through his tangled hair, crusted and clumped with the stale filth of battle. The scent of blood and sweat and death clung to your fingertips, a tacky residue holding fast as you worked your digits to the back of his skull. Hail, the fallen; the lone chanter cried, hundreds of feet below. His voice was soulful and solemn, misting around the high towers like summer pollen. Hail, the shuffling crowd reprised in a haunting hymn. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline bubbling down in your blood after Loki had thoroughly claimed you, but they sounded louder now. Or maybe it was just the wind. Loki’s grip tightened around your thighs, sliding upwards. His thumbs pressed into the crooks of your pelvis, pushing your legs wider. Without raising his head, he sank to his knees; war-ravaged leathers creaking as layers of festering dirt and grime cracked. His hands settled around the pristine skin of your thighs, marking them instantly.

“Loki…” you whispered warily, glancing up to the guards standing to attention, their gazes fixed in a thousand yard stare. Hail, the deliverer; the dark victor; the faceless voice sang, soulful reverence bouncing between golden turrets which glinted in the setting sun. Hail, Loki. Hail; the crowd chanted like a prayer in the depths below the balustrade. “Loki…” you murmured again, as trumpets blew a regal tremor alongside the eerie thump of ceremonial drums. “The guards…” The victorious god chuckled against your skin before he slid his cheekbone firmly up your thigh, a possessive harshness glinting in his eyes. “I am their commander. They will do as I say.” he growled coldly, his stare never leaving yours. A muscle in his jaw bobbed as he clenched, a ferocious haze descending over his features. He turned a stained cheek to the side, the marr of slaughter and destruction smeared messily where he had rubbed against your leg. He placed a wet kiss on your knee before he spoke. “Guards! About turn.” he roared.

Your gaze fluttered from your betrothed to the dozens of Einherjar standing to attention against the columns lining the balustrade. In perfect synchronicity, each one turned in a tight semi-circle to face the interior walls. They thumped the base of their spears against the stone in receipt of their order, the cold clunk of metal making a wave of arousal flip in your stomach. His presence. His power. You had almost forgotten. Almost.

Loki’s fingers resumed their iron grip around your thighs, sliding the hem of the dress gathered around your hips higher. “I trust this satisfies you…” he murmured, the brilliant blues of his irises startling against the shadows of brutal deeds layering his face. You thrust forward, aching to feel him against you; letting your hands wander over the buckles of his armour.

The leather felt ragged beneath your touch; burnt and battered. You could feel the tacky stick of warmed blood beneath your fingertips; the proof of his violent prowess. “We can wait...until...after the feast.” you panted half-heartedly, feeling his cracked lips graze against your freshly cum-soaked folds. Loki looked up from between your legs, the heroic commander on his knees ready to devour your glorious pussy. You could feel his seed pooling in thick drips on the stone below. His eyes were wide, brows slanted in mock innocence. “Oh, love…” he purred darkly, as his softness melted to a mischievous smirk. “But I haven’t eaten in days.” The prince’s nose nudged against your slit, making you groan shamelessly above him. “You know how ravenous I become after the rage of battle, love.” he purred, smirking against your hot, wet cunt. “You would not deny your Commander. Would you?”

You shook your head silently, fingers gripping the side of the cold stone balustrade. Loki inhaled deeply, letting it go with a shuddering sigh. Without another word, his warm tongue melted to your core; licking a flat stripe which made you jerk against his face. The filthy god’s fingers wrapped around your calves, pausing to hoist them over his shoulders. The grime-coated gold of his armoured epaulettes slid against your bare skin; the chill making you buck into his open mouth. Your back arched against the glittering lights of Asgard; darkening skies illuminated by the ethereal glow of thousands of candles held in homage by grateful citizens below. Were they praying to the god kneeling between your splayed thighs? You hoped they were. Loki’s tongue slid in messy kisses against your sex, searching every soft pleasure point as he sucked his sacred cum from your centre. Muffled moans of pleasure sounded against your heat, his unfettered enthusiasm loud and wet against the rock of your hips. The naked curve of your ass scratched against filth-soaked leather as the god suckled your clit, moving in rhythmic swirls that coated your womanhood in waves of unbearable pleasure. Your lover leant you backwards so you hovered at an angle off the edge of the balustrade. Gusts of warm dusk air skated over your bristling skin, melting into the dangerous thrill of his obsession. Hail, the victorious dead; the bellman called below, a resounding chorus following the settling of his words; echoing in the night. Hail. The call made your pussy clench, sweet juices beginning to spill against Loki’s lips. He groaned wistfully, tightening his grip around your thighs hanging against his shoulders. You wound your hands in his hair, feeling the familiar resistant tug of crusted sweat and dirt which covered every war-drenched inch of him.

Hail, our Benevolent Protector. Our God. Hail. Your gaze lingered between your legs, the sight of his unmistakeable dark curls bobbing against folds of silk as he dove further sending waves of bravado through your veins. “Did you think of this while you slit the enemies throats, my prince?” you gasped, feeling him nod slowly against the methodical slide of his tongue. “Did you b-burn their world... and their hope... take their lives, uhhh g-gods... just to feast on the pussy you c-crave?” you murmured, seeing a violent shiver roll over his broad shoulders as he moaned in response.

His nose slid into view as he leant back ever so slightly. He knew when you were watching. He always did.

Slowly, Loki licked from the pucker of your ass to your clit, the width of his tongue hovering against the swollen bundle as he lapped gently. The flat massaged the underside, every soft, soaked caress accompanied by a deep groan simmering in his throat. “Did you...f-fuck...miss the taste of me?” you whimpered, seeing him nod again with his brow creased in shameless adoration. The pressure of his talented mouth latched to your sex was incomparable; a light wind rustling against your shoulder-blades making it feel primordial. And perhaps it was. You caught a glimpse of your blackened inner thighs as he dipped lower, grime marks from the slide of his skin and the rub of his hair making you as filthy as he. The unspeakable paint of war coating his sharp cheeks and chin rubbed against your swollen sex, eagerly disappearing in messy slurps down the god’s throat as he lost himself between your spread thighs. Loki could feel you beginning to shake against him as you tried to control yourself, a smirk tugging at his dimples as he put on a show. Relishing you falling apart like foam on the shore beneath his tongue. If there was one thing Loki of Asgard loved more than public adulation, it was giving head. You let out a shameless moan as the low blow of trumpets sang beneath the balustrade, a fervent hum from the citizens now gathered in the square below accompanying the conclusion of the traditional victory prayers. Hail, Commander. the bellman roared; the final steps of his journey giving new gravitas to the most sacred chant. Hail, the crowd refrained. Their intensity rose like a wave of heat, wisping against the back of your hair as your head fell back.

“Do you w-want me to..uhhh-fuck, cum in your m-mouth, Commander?” you gasped between shaky breaths. A loud moan shuddered through you as Loki rumbled against your wet slit, a whine of need bubbling on his lips. You wound one hand through his blood-crusted hair, the other clutching tightly around the ledge of stone beneath your ass. A surge of power vibrated as you pressed the commander deeper into your pussy, his searching tongue curling inside your channel as you rocked against his face. How many women in the streets below would slay their own grandmother for what you had between your legs this very moment? And many men, too; you’d wager.

Loki’s grip tightened around your femurs as he smothered himself. He shook his smooth jaw slowly back and forth, teasing every aching inch of protracted pleasure from your approaching orgasm. He would be soaking. The dulled shine of his battle-leathers glinted in the torchlight, dark stains of brown and red and black sliding easily from his armour to your fresh, perfumed skin. Hail, our Victorious Commander; came the final forceful shout; as violently clear as though the man the voice belonged to was standing by your shoulder. Hail, Commander. Hail; the crowd roared in unison. There was a rapturous cheer as the drumbeats quickened, signalling the arrival of the procession to the main square of Asgard set below the balustrade. Loki’s tongue delved deeper against your cunt, his carefully timed laps burrowing against the source of your undoing. You bucked into him, his name a strangled cry in your throat as you tugged gently at tangled curls. Fingernails dragged down the leather of his overcoat, feeling a layer of enemy blood gathering beneath them. With a final twisted groan, you came over his waiting tongue. Hot arousal flooded his mouth, a welcoming sigh of pleasure sounding from the leader of Asgard's victorious forces as you rocked against his face. Loki could spend hours buried in your cunt; although tonight you suspected you would not be afforded that luxury. “Commander?” a low voice muttered nervously. Your eyes snapped up in alarm, seeing a young guard trembling to your side – facing away from the scene. Had he walked backwards towards the two of you? You thought he must have, if he valued his life. Loki was still lost in your heat, carefully gathering every drop of your cum with fastidiously gentle precision. Your fingers ran lovingly under his chin, cupping the angle of his jaw. His sex-drunk eyes rose to yours, stare hardening as he finally registered the unwelcome figure off to the side. “What?” he spat incredulously, not deigning to rise from where he was spread on his knees in full battle armour on the stone before you. The guard cleared his throat. “Majesty, I am bound to ask you to make your way to the feasting hall. The Allfather impatiently awaits your glorious return, Commander” Loki sighed. “Go.” he ordered bluntly, watching with growing amusement as the terrified guard hurried away without looking back. He lowered your legs from his shoulders, rising regally to his full height. Flickering lamplight illuminated his ghostly features, a glistening slick shimmering around his mouth and jaw revealing his familiar perfectly fair skin beneath the dirt. His lower face. It was the only part of him that was clean.

You closed your legs reluctantly, taking the hand of the victorious god and standing from your perch on the balustrade. The silk of your dress fell against your newly dirt-smeared legs, the folds of antique fabric stained with the same unspeakable remnants of battle as your lover. As your Commander. “It’s incredibly obvious that you have been busy on your return, my prince.” you smirked, biting your lip as you regarded his increasingly dishevelled state. If it were possible, he was even more of a mess than before. Loki chuckled, flicking his tangled hair as the new layer of saliva and cum settled against his war-worn features. “My love, it is us...” he purred, raising your hand and turning it over. He set a kiss down on the delicate underside of your wrist, the cracked sheet of grime covering his beautiful face doing nothing to hide the mirth playing beneath it. “They would not expect anything less.”

A/N: Thank you @simplyholl for being absolutely feral the night she read Hail Commander and immediately hitting me up with this mental image. You're the best my lil smut-sugarplum, I hope I delivered on our vision! Tags @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @astridstark13 @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @smolvenger @fictional-hooman

#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #lokismut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x fem reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut

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strikersexhaver · 6 months

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“I love you…”

Content: Angst, no fluff. Also gender neutral reader!

Summary: Sometimes, love can be bittersweet. (Y/N) learns that firsthand.

Spoilers for S2 finale!!

‘I love you’ were words that filled you with joy, the smile and the fleeting feeling of your blood rushing through your cheeks.

To see his smile, his cheekbones adjust with his big grin as he held you close. Interlocked hands sealing the close knit bond. It was clear you both were dear to wach other’s hearts.

“I love you Loki,” you said your voice soft and low for only him to hear.

You two were on the balcony of his room in Asgard long ago, up when even the gods and the mighty slept.

He chuckled kissing your cheek, “I love you too my dear.” He said with a smile.

You were oh so close to him, throughout it all. No matter what he did- what chaos, destruction, or shame he brought upon himself or others you always stayed.

From when he tried to take over the mortal realm to when he faked his death.

You held his hand in pride.

Even when he dragged you into the tomfoolery of the TVA on accident, he used a tempad to see you. Even with Mobius yelling after him, running at some point to catch him.

Loki hugged you, embracing you tightly and close to his chest with a kiss so tender and loving it made your heart whirl.

“I love you,” he said with a smile on his face again.

“I love you too.” You responded quickly, even though you had to deal with Mobius right after.

But he hopped through time to see you, one last time, one more time.

You were stroking his hair gently through your fingers, as he was lying on your lap at the end of time. Your beautiful face, every part of your body he loved.

Every edge, every line, how your face contours. He put a hand on your cheek, his eyes began to water as he realized his resolve.

“I love you.” He said with a frown and tears dripping down.

“I love you so much more than you could ever know… It will be my greatest regret to never be able to marry you. But now, you’ll be able to never worry on living another day to marry…”

You were speechless as you tried slamming or banging the door open, searching for a way to open the door.

“I know what kind of god I need to be, for you… For all of us.” He smiled, ever so bittersweetly as he walked out to brave the loom.

You were in shock, your body could not move- it shut down completely your legs hitting the floor and your eyes watering and pouring like a faucet.

Even after when it was all over and the deed was done, being brought back to New Asgard.

You cried to yourself shutting yourself in and weeping, mourning the love you still have. But will never see again.

Loki saw your pain through Yggdrasil, he shed a tear, he never wanted to put you through that much pain. He wanted to make you grin, laugh, and dance. He felt awful, but it was either this or never you having the chance to laugh again.

And that is something he could’ve never risked.

#loki #loki series #loki season 2 #loki laufeyson #loki spoilers #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki fluff

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streets-in-paradise · 4 months

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Stained - Thor x (Fem)Servant!Reader

Requested by @thorsslxve

" 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐥𝐥𝐥𝐥, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐥!!! 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤-𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟) 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭) 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡....𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐢𝐟 𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐓𝐲𝐲𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐰𝐚𝐡 𝐦𝐰𝐚𝐡𝐡♥️♥️"

Sure, dear! It's kinda out of my comfort zone, but I tried my best. I used this as a prompt inspiring the whole thing. Hope you will enjoy this 😊

Warnings: Dark(ish) Thor expressing enjoyment on corrupting the reader, sexual harassment. His advances are not absolutely unwanted, but the power imbalance between servant and master puts the reader in a hard situation regarding her agency on how things play out.

Summary: Another triumph of Asgard leaves the servants overworked in the preparation of a feast. While most of your kind is occupied in the preparatives, your are send to attend the prince in his post battle bath.

Despite you intend to simply fullfill your task, he seems to have other plans in mind.

Note: Since the requester asked for a dark version of tdw thor, this differs from his canon characterzation in that movie, resembling a bit more to his pre 2011 self.

Thor had returned victorious from one more battle, bringing order to the Nine Realms inmersed into chaos since the destruction of the Bifrost. Asgard was preparing for celebrations and the feasts in the palace required an insane amount of work given the usual magnitude. Even without the macabre jokes of Loki, servants still had to stand a lot from the demmanding nobility attending the gathering.Smashed cups, countless refills and their arrogant attitudes boosted by the effect of their drinking was the easiest of it.

Sometimes, asisting them in their personal preparatives was a hassle. The freshly arrived champion stained of war needed his bath to be prepared and a small court of servant maidens were required for the task. Not always he needed so for practical reasons, but Prince Thor enjoyed himself with the reactions obtained from the sight of him among them. The shyer, the better, his glory increasing with their timid admiration.

In that oportunity, he found you the loveliest. His attention was fixated on you from your very first shy smile, and his provocations escalated at any given chance.

Once the trully needed arrangements were completed, he asked everyone else to leave and you were left alone with him. He didn't recalled to have the pleasure before, so he guessed you were one of the maids of his mother sent in auxilie because everyone else was preparing the feast.

You had been shying away from the visual of your naked master and that made him suspect you were probably used to be in the service of ladies.

" Something troubles you?" He asked you in a mock, cocky smile on his face before finishing the statement. " First time serving a man in such íntimate settling, peraphs?"

You swallowed hard, eyes on the ground to avoid an accidental peek.

" I had only asisted Loki, by expressed command of the Queen during a brief occasion. " You admited in the same ceremonial tone you would use if there would be more people there. " Your brother doesn't rejoice in conversation with my kind, neither I would seek to change that given the horror tales I have heard from the servant folk. He didn't want company, so I fulfilled my task in silence and left, hoping to remain ignored for as long as possible. "

" I believe you may have succeeded for too long, or never fallen in the ríght hands. " Thor commented, dissapointed of hearing that you have been alone with his brother before despite you told him he didn't show you any interest. " You are too lovely to be easily ignored. Can you acknowledge that? I hope you do, all that beauty can get you in trouble. "

There was no answer and that frustrated him.

" Are you always so shy, little flower, or is it only arround me? "

The lustfull sound of that teasing remark blocked your mind for an instant.

" You have an overwhelming presence, my prince. " Was the fastest, partially true, excuse you could come up with. " If Giants tremble in front of you, … How can you expect a palace maid not to react according with this glorious fame of yours?"

" My hands give death with expertice and ease, as they can also give caresses. " He clarified in return. " Beautifull, innocent girls like you shall only tremble of delight from my touch, never of fear. "

The provocation was once more ignored, or at least you pretended to do so, but he splashed you with the warm water as a cheerfull method to force you to look at him.

On that partial victory he had obtained, the image that your eyes found spoke for itself.

Thor was spreaded comfortably in the tub, his strong arms extended at the sides, water dripping from his muscled torso and his gaze finding yours in an inviting way. Everything in his corporal language tempted you to roam him with your eyes and you did, because the spectacle wasn't easy to avoid.

To say that it was pleasant would have been an oversimplification. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, yet that didn't make the situation less unconfortable. You were his servant, not a wife contemplating the husband on a wedding night.

He could do with you whatever he wanted, and your were confused over if you would trully object to that, even if you could.

" Is there anything else you may need of me, Prince Thor? " You timidly asked. " If not, I shall … "

" I need you" He cutted you off. " Come closer, and do as I tell you. "

You nodded affirmatively and approached hesitantly, waiting for his command.

" We can start having you cleaning my back. I bet your touch must be so soft, … exactly what i'm needing. "

As you walked by intending to reach his back, he didn't miss the chance to extend his arm in order to give your bottom an encouraging squeeze. The surprise made you yelp, but he smiled as if he intended to reassure you.

As soon as your hands were on him, it only got worse. Thor wasn't shying away from groaning his relax out as your touch worked on his sore muscles while cleaning him up, loving the feeling but only regretting he couldn't see you.

" Enjoy yourself, let your hands feast on my body. " He commanded you, inciting you to go further. " I can tell you long for it as much as me, there is no use on denying it anymore."

Confused as you were, he still managed to send shivers down your spine and heat to your core.

Wordless approval of his instruction happened when your hands reached his chest, cleaneasing the dirt off his skin and caressing it on equal amounts.

Thor released a dark chuckle before proclaiming his triumph.

" You are stained of lust for me … and by the time this will be over you will be begging me to ravish you. "

#thor odinson #thor #chris hemsworth #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #chris hemsworth x reader #thor the dark world #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

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theofreakingbell · 2 months

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thinking abt Thor being raised to glorify and idolize death in battle to the point that self destructive impulses and passive suicidiality do not get the attention they should / he doesn't even realise it's wrong until he's living peacefully in new asgard and starts taking more care with when he risks himself, for the sake of not just wanting to leave Loki and others behind but because he isn't indifferent to what happens to himself anymore

#mcu thor #thinking abt how he risked himself in IW and not wanting to do that again #watching Loki having fallen asleep in his lap and feeling like he needs to take more care #Less I will die for you more I will live for you. so I can be with you and stay with you #and I am more than just a tool for protecting others #listened to 1121 by halsey while thinking abt him and this happened #and literally started crying #it's thor angst hours apparently #no idea how to tag warning this I'm sorry #suicide mention #?

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loki-cees-all · 3 months

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Ch. 4 - Hope Against Hope {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Previous Chapter / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : After you and Loki do the deed, Loki does a little soul-searching.

W/c : 4.7k words

Content / Warnings : Smut (p-in-v), angst (knife-in-heart), mentions of a future addiction for the reader (nothing specific is mentioned, and no actual use of illicit substances ever takes place), and Loki rifling through all of your stuff. It's fine, though! He has a good reason!

Author's Note : Apologies this is so late! It really, really got away from me, and I was absolutely struggling to get it done. But, it turns out I was just trying to do too much in one chapter, so once I cut it off at what was the halfway point, it became much more manageable. (Major shoutout to @infinitystoner for helping me with that. I love you!) Anyway, happy reading!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 26th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

Throughout his thousand years of existence, Loki had witnessed a great deal of beautiful things. The golden shine of the palace he’d grown up in was the first; its light reflected brighter than the birth of a newborn star, shining down with a brilliance unrivaled to anything short of divine intervention.

Every morning, he’d awake in awe of its splendor, and every night, when he laid his head upon his pillow, he’d wonder if anyone else ever noticed the terrible irony of such a gorgeous place containing the harshest of people.

The exquisite gardens of Asgard had always been his favorite place to be. Carefully tended to and guided by his mother’s loving hand, they contained every species of flower from each of the Nine Realms - meticulously organized by the shade of their petals, and perpetually in bloom thanks to her seidr.

It was the perfect place for reflection; he had spent many late nights in those gardens, wandering up and down the rows, taking in the sweet aroma of the flowers and pondering his lot in life. And during the worst of Thanos’ many tortures, he’d often imagine he was back there inside Frigga’s gardens - shielded and protected, and lost in majesty instead of in pain.

And the stunning destruction of the Bifrost would haunt him for the rest of his days. The explosion’s light caught the shards of the Rainbow Bridge and almost blinded him, illuminating nothing but his many failures in the most glorious of ways as he fell into its wake. The Bifrost had faded into golden dust, and clouds of sapphire and ultramarine had swirled together beneath him, and it was so magnificent that he almost forgot about the look of sheer disappointment upon his father’s face.

But none of those things, not a single one of them, could ever compare to the sight of you coming undone beneath his devoted tongue.

Loki continued working, his mouth and eyes eagerly taking in the evidence of your pleasure. His hands gripped your waist tight, as if to squeeze out every ounce of it that he could, while his lips and tongue lavished your clit. He’d never tasted something so divine, and he never wanted your pleasure to end.

You cried out his name like the holiest of prayers, and Loki moaned its accompaniment. He could almost see the light radiating off your skin as your back arched off the bed, and the blood in his veins surged with want as your thighs trembled against his ears. He desperately needed more, to keep you sated and satisfied in euphoria for as long as he could - but he also needed to be careful.

Because as far as you knew, Loki was just another simple mortal - one that had a job, and a family, and paid taxes. A human man, one that played rugby on the weekends, someone who was going to die in about forty years - when he was actually the furthest from anything that even resembledbanality.

Ordinarily, in situations like this, Loki’s seidr would be on full display - to set the mood by lighting the fire in the hearth and the candles on the nightstand. To keep the wine flowing in their glasses, and the sheets warm against your bare skin. To remove his clothing in a flash of green light, just so he could bury himself inside you the exact second he wanted to.

And Gods, how he helplessly wanted to be inside you again.

Loki hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since the night in the alleyway. It had been feral and hurried, dangerous and reckless, to take you against that wall and in public, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t the best he’d ever had. And it was so foolish of himself to think he could get by with only having you once, and so incredibly selfish to take you again while knowing what he knew about your future…

But even still, Loki’s cock ached underneath his trousers, throbbing in sync with every single beat of his heart. Desire coursed violently throughout his veins, mixing with both heat and adrenaline as he continued ravishing between your legs. He could feel you clenching rhythmically, your fingers tangling in his hair and your hips grinding upwards, and he could never deny you what you wanted.

You were just past the height of ecstasy when Loki began to crawl up your body, following behind his lips as they worshiped your skin. He kissed his way up your belly, gazing up at your ethereal expression as your head lolled back and forth on the pillow. Aftershocks washed over you, one by one, and your lips parted with desperate breath and pleasured murmurs. It was beautiful, and perfect, and of nothing but sheer divinity.

Loki kept his gaze locked on your face as he slowly kissed along your ribs, and your feet flexed, pressing into his hips as yours continued writhing. Your fingers curled tighter around his hair, a silent plea to urge him on, and he couldn’t believe that even after all of this, even while completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, you still wanted more of him.

His initial plan had been to take you as slowly as possible - to savor, and to idolize you. He’d never been wanted like this before, and he didn’t know if this would be the last time he’d get to experience it. A lifetime of neglect had taught him affection was ever fleeting, and he should always relish it whenever it came. What little patience he had was quickly disappearing by the second, soon to be nothing but a distant memory of the time before he was whole again.

Your eyes stayed closed as his name tumbled from your lips, and Loki knew this was the moment. He kept one hand clutched tight around your hip, and brought the other down to his belt, unbuckling it just enough to make a sound before his seidr dissolved the remaining clothing from his body and transported them to the floor, as if they’d been tossed aside in a hurry.

He moved upwards again, and when he reached your nipple and pulled it into his mouth, you whimpered in pleasure and dragged your nails across his scalp. A deep groan rumbled in his throat and he began to suck harder, flicking his tongue wildly against the stiffening peak. This time you let out a sharp gasp, and your feet planted on the mattress to arch your back even more and press your hips against something, anything, of his.

Loki graciously slid his thigh up to soothe the ache between your quivering legs, and you eagerly locked on to it, grinding your swollen clit against his taut muscles. You had been more than wet when he had gone down on you before, but now you were positively drenched with arousal, and Loki loved that about you. He’d never been so hard in his life, precum dripping onto your belly from the head of his glistening cock as the musk of sex filled the room.

Your head tilted back into the pillow and your thighs trembled violently, supported only by your tiptoes and your upper back as another orgasm ripped through you. Loki cupped your other breast, his thumb circling its nipple as he sucked even harder on the first, trying desperately to hold back his own ecstasy until he was buried deep inside you.

But that battle was becoming more and more difficult to win, and his equanimity was dissipating with each and every one of your breathless moans and whimpers. Loki moved his hands to carefully guide your feet flat, and then massaged your calves and thighs into relaxing as he carefully pulled his lips away from your nipple.

As he moved closer, your hands shifted to cling to his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Anything you could read, everything about him that was solid and real. He wanted so badly to assure you that he was, to shout it from the rooftops that he wasn’t just real, that he was - in fact - yours, and that was the only real thing that mattered.

Loki’s lips were on your collarbone when he finally coaxed your legs into position, relaxed but open for him. You were making unintelligible noises and your body continued trembling, but your hips kept rolling as he slowly settled his weight onto you and pressed his hips against yours.

“Loki…oh my, God, Loki…” you gasped breathlessly, sliding your hands up along his neck to his hair, to tangle in the mess of matted and sweaty curls against his scalp.

His breath shuddered as he gazed upon you, eyelids fluttering open and shut, and pupils dilated so wide to take him all in. His lips hovered just a touch above yours, inhaling as you exhaled, leaning in as you pulled him closer. He wasn’t running or cowering away, there was no fleeing or escaping. For the first time since the Tesseract had slid to his feet in the lobby of Stark Tower, Loki was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Yes, my darling…I’m here, just breathe…” he whispered, dragging his nose along the edge of yours. His voice shifted into a groan as you wrapped your legs around his waist; the soft skin of your thighs burned against him, branding a reminder into his flesh that this was where he belonged, and the soaked heat between your legs beckoned him back home.

The two of you were as naked as the day you were born - one born on Earth, and one born on Jotunheim. Dark green and satin sheets lay beneath you, twisted and tangled upon your bed. The air inside your room was almost overwhelming, a delicious mixture of heat and musk, and despite the very early morning hour, the city of London still bustled just outside your window, cruelly unaware of the magic that was about to happen above them.

Your lips met again, and even though the kiss was just as hungry as that night in the alleyway, there was something else now with it - a touch of familiarity, of knowing and acceptance even though it couldn’t really be - not with all the lies he’d been telling, and the truth he’d been withholding. Loki kissed you harder, trying to push those thoughts out of his brain, and you happily reciprocated.

As you introduced your tongue to the kiss, Loki cupped the back of your skull with one hand, and brought the other between your hips as he began to rock against you, dragging himself against your entrance and teasing you both into oblivion. Neither of you needed any further teasing, but he did it anyway, just to add the final touch of urgency. You whimpered and opened your hips even further, and on the next push, he was inside you again.

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense as the entire universe opened up before him. Loki let out the hoarsest of groans as he pushed deeper, and your lower back arched even more beneath him. Your fingers curled even tighter around his hair, your lips fell from his to moan his name again, and you were so wet and warm and safe that he felt like nothing could ever hurt him again.

All he ever wanted was to feel like this, and he slowly pulled himself out, just short of all the way, before sinking himself back inside. Your hips writhed uncontrollably as he did that a few more times, and Loki realized that you also needed the reminder that even if he pulled away or left completely, he would always come back to you. That he would never not be thinking of you, or of this.

Loki was already ruined before he began thrusting even faster, and there was absolutely nothing that could have ever stopped him. He buried his face against your neck and arched his back more harshly, pulling all the way out before pumping back inside. Your muscles squeezed around him, and your voice was nothing but breathless and incoherent gasps and moans as you took him in over and over again.

He snaked one arm around your back and the other around your waist as he moved faster, grunting and groaning against your skin as your fingertips scratched at his scalp. His muscles tensed as yours did, and he could tell by the sound of your voice that you were getting close already. His own orgasm was just seconds away, coiling around in his belly, stretching and yearning to break free as he drove himself harder, faster, deeper.

The tension broke simultaneously, and you cried out together, curling tightly around each other’s bodies, clinging for dear life as you came together. Endorphins and hormones coursed through Loki’s veins as the universe came into being, with stars exploding and dust swirling to form the galaxies and planets and realms that could stretch longer and further than anyone would ever know.

You clung so tightly to him during it all, as if you could see what he saw, but somehow he was the only thing that mattered. How could that be, that while an entire universe was being born, that the goddess of a mortal underneath could only look up at him?

Loki didn’t understand it one bit, but he didn’t need to, because all he could feel and see and smell was you. His hips continued rocking, shallower now that he was absolutely spent, and his sighs were heavy in the crook of your neck. He was in total and complete bliss when you let out a choked sob against his ear, and it instantly brought him back to reality.

“Darling…darling, what’s wrong?” he murmured, kissing your neck and squeezing you tighter. Had he done something wrong? Had he unintentionally hurt you in some way while lost in his own pleasure?

He could feel you shake your head, even as another sob escaped you. He could feel the tears streaming down your face and coating his own cheek, but your limbs still wrapped harder around him. Slowly, Loki lifted his head even though he was terrified of what he might see upon your face. His heavy eyelids fluttered open, his blurred vision effortlessly obscuring the tangled limbs and sweaty skin you both shared.

But when your face finally came into view, there was a smile beneath the tears on your cheeks. Your messy hair framed your face like an untidy halo - disconnected from, but still beautiful and fitting for the angel who wore it. Loki would never forget that smile and its tears, so happy and yet so sad all at the same time.

“I don’t know why, Loki…but I’ll be fine, I promise…” you answered in a voice that was so floating and breathless and light.

He could tell you meant it, and it should have reassured him, but it didn’t. The image of that newspaper from 1983 suddenly flashed before his eyes, and Loki remembered the initial reason he had come home with you last night.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 27th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

Loki wasn’t exactly sure what he was searching for, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

The sun was just beginning to encroach over the horizon, sending its rays over the city and into the bay windows of your high-rise flat. He padded cautiously into your living room, thankful for the plush white carpets between his toes to mute his exhausted steps.

There was nothing he wanted more than to slip back into bed with you and sleep the day away, but he had to take this opportunity while he still had the chance.

Loki could still see you, sleeping soundly in the arms of the duplicate he’d casted so as to not rouse any suspicion while he snooped. It felt so wrong to be doing this now, so soon after the night you’d just shared together, but the guilt of your future was driving him forward, egging him on and eating him away so badly he wouldn’t be able to have another decent rest even if he tried.

And it was odd, feeling jealous of something he’d conjured to keep you distracted, and in bed. It was, technically-speaking, him…but it wasn’t him- and he was the one who desperately needed the rest. Loki hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since well before Thanos’ capture, since he had lived in the palace on Asgard, and he had no idea when he’d be able to have it again…

Nevertheless, Loki shook his head and rolled it back and forth between his shoulders. His joints popped and cracked as he stretched his arms up over head, extending and pulling and desperately willing his limbs to fully awaken for the task at hand. He opened his eyes wider to take in more light, and he filled his lungs with as much oxygen as he could muster, held it for as long as he could, and released it slowly through his nose.

If anyone else could see him, they’d say he was stalling. Deception ordinarily came easy to him - Odin had taken advantage of that many times - but this was different; in fact, this was much, much worse. And he knew he wasn’t going to like what he found, but it needed to be seen anyway. He had to know if he was the cause of your future addiction, or if had already started before you’d even met.

Loki began his search in the kitchen, opening up the cupboards and pantries, quietly sliding items aside so he could see any possible illicit substances hidden in the back. He checked on top of the refrigerator and deep inside the freezer for excessive quantities of alcohol. He even looked through the drawers of silverware and utensils, the mail on top of the counter, the pockets of your coats hung by the front door for something, anything, that hinted at your painful future.

But he found nothing, just like he was afraid of. And it wasn’t because he wanted you to have an addiction, to be suffering silently and hiding your pain away from the world - he didn’t want that to happen to you at all, ever. But the more he searched, the more it became apparent that he would be the eventual cause of it.

And if he did manage to find something, he could offer you the help you needed. He could take care of you, instead of hurting you. He could be of use for something good, instead of the destruction he normally was.

From the kitchen, he returned to the living room, shoving his hands between the couch cushions and underneath the sofas. He flipped through the magazines stacked on the coffee table, and pulled the books off the bookshelves. All the while, trying so hard not to think about how he was going to eventually make addiction a reality for you.

Loki could tell you were eager to learn more about him, to know him more than just as a man who kept you company at night, and it was getting harder to dodge your questions. He knew you would have more when you awoke, and it wasn’t that you didn’t deserve to hear the answers, because of course you did. You deserved everything happy and safe and beautiful there could ever be, and Loki truly wanted to be the one to give all of that to you.

But Loki didn’t know what to tell you, because that had never been the truth of his reality. So what was he supposed to tell you? That he was the monster that parents told their children about at night?

That he’s an alien being from another realm, who could travel through time and space? That there were different versions of every single person living within multiple universes, and that in 35 years his past self would try to lead an alien army to violently take over New York City?

At best, you wouldn’t believe him at all, and at worse, you’d absolutely hate him for it…even if doing that is exactly what brought him to you in the first place.

After the last book was slid back into place, Loki sighed and turned his attention to the living room as a whole. Everything was clean and organized, everything had a specific place to be and was already there, and absolutely nothing was amiss. Nothing and everything was wrong, all at the same time, and the realization almost brought him to his knees.

Loki was going to ruin your life eventually; the only question now was how he was going to do it, and when he was going to hammer that final nail inside your coffin. Was it going to be as soon as you woke up? Was it going to be because he finally told you the truth?

His fingers pressed into his eye sockets as he collapsed onto the sofa, rubbing away furiously as he pondered his options. Truthfully speaking, how much time did you two have left together? The Loom was still on the verge of total destruction back at the TVA; his friends were back there right now, working tirelessly on a solution while he selfishly snuck away to see you again. To coddle his own emotions and guilt, when none of that would matter if they were unable to save the timelines at all.

And what was he supposed to do if they managed to prevent the Loom’s destruction? Keep sneaking away to come see you like a long-distance lover? Make up a pretend job for himself, never tell you the truth, and force you to perpetually linger in the liminal space between his crafted persona and who he actually was?

Not even he could keep a lie that massive forever. You would eventually discover the truth, or perhaps you would realize that there even was a truth different from the one he was selling you. Maybe what the truth was actually didn’t matter; maybe what mattered was that you couldn’t keep living a lie, and that was all it took to break you.

Loki leaned forward on the sofa, his elbows digging into his knees while dragging his fingertips down his cheeks and over his mouth. His palms pressed together in a silent prayer as his eyes roamed over the room. His eyes filled with tears as he realized this would have to be the last time he ever looked upon it. He would have to leave you, before either of you fell too hard - and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to save you more than it would destroy him.

His expression was solemn as he stood back up from the sofa. He hoped he’d been overthinking your expression in the alleyway a week ago, in the club the night before, in your bed as you’d come together. His heart broke as he prayed that you didn’t actually care about him as much as he already cared about you, that this would actually be easy for you. That you still had the strength to pick up the pieces and carry on with your life.

As Loki turned to leave the living room, to start the long journey back to your bedroom and kiss you goodbye, his eyes caught the painting above your dining room table. His frown shifted into a smile, although his eyes were as distraught and disillusioned as ever. He stepped closer and pressed his fingertips across the frame, thinking about all the stories this single painting told.

You were so unbelievably talented; every brush stroke had been as carefully placed as the belongings inside your flat. How he wished he could see this tree that you loved so much, and how he longed to feel the same kind of permanent comfort that it seemed to bring you even now. He’d never felt such everlasting solace in his entire life, and he’d even happily settle for being able to provide that kind of love for you some day.

But it just wasn’t meant to be. And for now, all Loki could hope for was that your father or your friends could help you still move on.

He reluctantly pulled away and returned down the hallway, training his eyes straight ahead to avoid the beautiful and happy photographs plastered all over the walls. He tried desperately not to look at the candelabrum on the narrow bookshelf. But of course, the morning light caught it, reflecting off the polished brass and right into his anguished gaze.

Loki couldn’t help but pause in front of it, right outside the doorway to your bedroom. He could hear you breathing in your bed, slowly and peacefully, in the arms of his duplicate. You were so close, and yet so far, because he couldn’t tear himself away from the hall and its haunted reminder of his past life.

He’d seen that candelabrum before, but he didn’t know how it had found its way here. Surely, it had to be a coincidence, right? That the asymmetrically curved pieces swung upright to form the horns of the golden headpiece he used to wear before the TVA had taken him away?

Devil’s horns, the enemies of Asgard used to call them. The Dökkláfar of Alfheim had considered them omens of death, but it wasn’t in the same way they had feared Odin’s power, or his brother’s hammer. Those items could always be seen before striking down their enemies; their power was out in the open, demanding to be witnessed, and punishing for their disobedience to the throne.

But by the time an enemy ever saw Loki’s horns, it was already too late. The damage was already done, secretly in the shadows and hidden upon layers and layers of deceptions and lies. His enemies were already dead by the time Loki finally revealed himself and his Devil’s horns, and their last few seconds were usually spent wondering which trick it was that struck the final blow.

So what were they doing here, in this young woman’s flat? In London, in 1977, where he’d never been before and surely would never return to again? Surely there was no way you knew what they actually represented. No, it had to just be an unhappy coincidence.

Back on Asgard, Loki had been repeatedly regulated to operating within the shadows. In his younger years, he had believed it was simply because that was where he excelled. But then he knew better; he knew that Odin had kept him in the shadows intentionally, that he was fit to exist in the light. And now, he was being forced to recede into the shadows yet again, to be nothing but a hopefully wistful and fond memory of yours.

He had only just found you. He had only just come to know the caring touch of peace, and already he was having to give it back up.

Another tear rolled down Loki’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. He let out a sharp breath, steeled his jaw, and stepped back inside your bedroom, not at all ready to do the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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happy74827 · 4 months

Text

All I Wanted Was You

[Thor Odinson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Thor had always been there to protect you, save you, and love you… Until he couldn't.

WC: 3540

Category: Heavy Angst, Some hurt/comfort, mentions of Loki, Hela, and Heimdall {TW warning: Thanos and “evil squidward” — I know his name but I think Tony’s nickname is too iconic}

So I recently rewatched Infinity War, and of course watching Thor cry over losing literally everyone else he cares for in the first 15 minutes of the movie sparked my writer heart {finally} and after listening to Paramore we have this hot mess of angst (also why are all my Thor fics so angsty when he’s the definition of fluff?? I live for the drama I guess)

And just for the record, we don’t talk about the fact that I have thousands of requests and this isn’t even one of them 💀😭

『••✎••』

They say fear lies in the unknown. In the absence of facts and knowledge, the mind creates a world of illusions. If you believe your own fears, they become reality.

So what happens when the thing you fear the most is taken from you? When everything else falls to nothing? When the world is turned upside down?

You're left with a feeling that can only be described as the deepest pain imaginable.

You're left with nothing but your fear.

Your heart was racing so fast, and your breaths were short. You could feel every single muscle in your body tense up as the unnamed alien man dragged you further and further into the unknown.

The trip back to Earth, back to your sanctuary of a home, was nothing but a blur. After everything that had gone down within Asgard, including Asgard's destruction, all you could think about was your lover. Your other half.

Thor.

He was in pain, and not just physically. You had been separated due to his secretive, power-hungry sister, to where he’d left you alone with his kind-hearted people to find his father, only to disappear and leave you alone with the slaughtering of the Asgardians.

The people you’ve met that very day ended up slaughtered by Hela. Some took you by the hand, guiding and shielding you for protection against the God of Death and her henchmen. Others, you could tell, were more than just scared; they were terrified. The ones that were too slow or the ones that decided to fight back were killed within an instant.

You were no warrior. You were a simple, plain human who somehow caught the eye of the mighty Thor Odinson, and for some reason, he was in love with you.

So, while everyone else fought against Hela and her henchmen, you ran. Thor had left you there in assurance of your safety, thinking the search for his father with Loki, of all people, would be too risky for you, but in reality, you would have rather been with him. At least then, if you were to die, you could have been in the arms of the one you love.

Miraculously, you had survived the fall of Asgard and the escape from Surtur. You had no clue how. Maybe you were just lucky, or perhaps it was the grace of the Allfather. Even Heimdall, the man who saw everything, didn’t see you making it out alive.

But, when Thor had found you in the throne room cornered by some henchmen, it became a fact that Heimdall couldn’t see everything; after all.

The moment your eyes had met, the moment you heard the sound of metal against flesh, the moment his strong, powerful, protective arms wrapped around your fragile, vulnerable, weak form, and the moment his lips kissed the top of your head, you were safe.

Safe.

The only time you felt genuinely safe was when you were with Thor. His mere presence made you feel at ease. Like nothing could ever touch you or hurt you because he wouldn't let it.

He would protect you no matter the cost. He’d die for you, give his life for you, and go to the depths of Hell and back for you. He loved you, and that was something you could never understand.

Why would such a mighty god, a king, and a warrior want to love a simple human like yourself? A clumsy one at that.

You weren’t special in any way. You were ordinary.

But Thor, he was extraordinary.

The God of Thunder, a king and a warrior, a prince and a protector.

He was everything you were not.

It wasn't just the physical things that made him great, too, but the things that were inside.

Thor was a good man. A caring man. One who always thought about others and not himself.

Thor had his moments, yes, but no one is perfect. Not even a god. But the thing that made you love him, that made you want him, and the thing that made you feel safe was his heart.

That was the only part of him you could understand. The way he cared. The way he loved. The way he could make anyone smile. The way he could bring light to anyone's dark.

That's what makes a man a man. And that's why you loved him.

Even now, with one eye, a missing hammer, and a lost kingdom, he was still your everything.

And now you were reunited after being separated again. The only problem was the circumstances.

You and Thor had been in an intimate moment. The relief of having you back in his arms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins from surviving such a tragedy, had you both desperate.

He had pinned you against the wall, his hands brushing your hair away from your face to get a better look at you before he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss. He was always so gentle with you. The teasing and playful nips at your bottom lip were proof of that.

But the sudden sight of a ship out the large window you’d stared out of moments before the kiss broke your concentration.

Thor had pulled apart almost immediately, the feeling of his beard no longer tickling your face, but the heat of his breath and the sweet taste of his lips was still there.

It didn't take long before Thor was following your eyes, seeing for himself what had pulled you from him.

A sense of dread washed over you when you noticed how he tensed and his grip on your waist tightened. This wasn’t another Asgardian ship; no, this was something far more dangerous. You could tell by the look in Thor's eye, his non-missing eye.

Then, within seconds, he grabbed hold of your arm and yanked you out of the room. Your heart was pounding as you started yelling questions at him, trying to understand what was going on.

But, when he hit the button that sealed the room you were once in and shielded you within his arms, the panic started to set in.

That's when everything began to blur.

You remembered the sound of explosions. The tearing of metal. The screams. The smell of burning.

It all came crashing down.

Loki had come around the corner, and seeing his expression, it didn’t take much to realize what was going on.

If Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies, was terrified, then that meant something big was going down.

Thor was yelling orders, shouting commands. You could barely make out what he was saying, but you knew he was telling you to stay behind him.

Stay behind him.

Always stay behind him.

Then it changed to get the hell off the ship.

Then, to run.

Run.

The last thing you remember was looking back as you sprinted down the halls, seeing your love, your other half, the king, the prince, the protector, your Thor, fighting some creature with his bare hands.

His face was so determined. He wasn’t going down without a fight. You ran to where he had told you to go, the escape pods where Val was helping others into. You got there and saw her eyes. They were wide and full of worry.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

The sound of an explosion brought you back to the present.

Val grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you toward a pod. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and, your heart was racing so fast, and your breaths were short.

All you could think about was Thor. Where was he? Was he alright?

No.

He was not.

As soon as you entered the pod and Val had closed you in it, it was suddenly torn apart. The supposed sliding door had been ripped from its hinges.

The metal that you rested your back upon started to give, and the feeling of moving forward caused your heart to leap.

You were launched out and onto the floor.

It took a second to gain your bearings. You looked up and saw Val. She was fighting, and you were thankful to see her, but it was a short-lived relief.

The… thing she was fighting, the blue alien, grabbed hold of her and flung her across the ship. She landed somewhere near a pod and didn't move. You remembered screaming for her, but she didn't budge.

That's when the creature turned his attention to you.

You tried to move, but the metal that was supposed to hold the pod in place had you pinned.

You tried to pry the metal from your skin, but your weak and vulnerable body couldn’t break the bond.

The alien slowly moved towards you and, in a swift movement, had ripped the metal away.

He was so close, and you had no idea what was going on, who he was, or what his intentions were.

When you felt his large, rough, and cold hand wrap around the back of your neck, panic started to set in. You wanted to kick and scream, but all you could do was stare at the beast before you.

And thus, you were dragged away from the evacuation site and thrown into a separate area. You came to the conclusion that whoever this was, it seemed to be a metal bender or something similar due to his abilities.

All you saw was a demented blue face with squid-like features, staring down at you as he threw you around like a rag doll.

The fifth time he threw you, you landed roughly on the floor, causing your shoulder to make a loud crack noise and the pain to shoot through your body. Your hands landed on something soft, softer than the floor, and when you looked down, you realized the blue thing had thrown you into a room full of corpses.

But it wasn’t just any corpses. The one you had specifically landed upon had been the body of the man you had recently become close friends with, Thor’s friend, Heimdall.

Tears immediately pooled in your eyes, and your breathing became ragged. You tried to sit up and pull your body off of Heimdall in respect, but the pain shooting through your arm and back kept you frozen in place.

The lifeless eyes of the man who saw everything were open, and for once, he was staring at nothing. It was a haunting image.

The tears were now falling, and a sob escaped your lips. You wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. You wanted to scream and shout. You wanted to fight and claw at the alien that took until it bled. But all you could do was lay there, unable to move and weep.

Then, a voice caught your attention. It was deep, and it was coming from the alien that had brought you to this place.

His eyes were no longer focused on you, but they were somewhere else. He was talking to someone.

“Boss,” it spoke, his voice deep and gravelly. You couldn’t bear to look at the being. Not when you were face to face with the lifeless body of the gatekeeper. “There’s a human woman here. A pathetic one, no doubt, but one nonetheless. Should we end her? Or leave her to rot like the others?"

A silence filled the air, and you had no idea what was going on, who he was speaking with, or who was giving him instructions. You could’ve looked. You could have glanced up at the thing, and seen for yourself, but you too were afraid.

Your eyes remained glued to the golden ones that were once filled with light and wisdom.

There was silence, and then a loud, deep, thump. It had startled you, but it wasn't anything like the explosion of the ship, no, it sounded more like a boot or a shoe had come in contact with metal. But, it was loud enough to grab your attention.

You didn’t move. Your eyes didn't stray.

But, your body trembled in fear.

Suddenly, you heard his voice, and it sounded more terrifying than any sound that had echoed in the air prior. It was even deeper, and even more frightening than the other.

“I think not. We have use of her."

He had a deep and gravelly voice, but it was smooth. Calm. Almost friendly.

Then, a large, purple foot, appeared in your vision, and slowly, the purple being leaned down and stared at you. His gaze was strong, and piercing. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You were too terrified to move, speak, or breathe.

Again, it wasn’t human. It was an alien. And a big one, at that.

He had no hair, only a helmet. His skin was purple and he wore strange looking clothing, including a golden glove that had both a bright purple stone and a blue one.

You’ve never seen such a creature before. You thought those dark elves were terrifying, but they were nothing compared to this man.

And for some reason, he was looking at you like you were an ant, and he was the boot that would crush you.

In fact, he was looking at you with pity, and it confused the hell out of you.

But, when his hand moved, and his fingers had touched the soft strand of your hair, you couldn't help but flinch.

The moment his fingers made contact with you, though, you heard a loud grunt. One that didn’t sound alienated or distorted. It was clear, and you could tell who it was, instantly.

Your head shot up, ignoring the pain in your arm, and the moment your eyes met his, everything stopped.

Everything.

It was Thor.

Your Thor. Your everything.

He was in front of you the entire time, and you had no clue.

The tears were falling. They were falling hard and fast, and you couldn’t stop them. And for once, it wasn’t because of relief.

Thor was encased with metal. His arms and legs were pinned by it. He was bleeding from his head, and he was covered in bruises.

He looked like hell and gave off the same energy.

He was struggling to free himself. That’s what the sounds were. The grunts, the heavy breathing, and the loud thumping. He was trying to get out of his prison to get to you. To save you.

The alien was staring down at you. His eyes were dark and intimidating, but his presence was even more so. He was the embodiment of terror.

Then, without any warning, he grabbed you by the throat.

It was an unexpected move. He had picked you up by the neck with just one hand. He had a grip so tight you couldn't breathe, and the pressure on your throat was unbearable.

You could hear Thor screaming. Yelling.

You could barely hear what he was saying. Your ears were ringing, and the pain of the hand wrapped around your throat was all you could focus on.

But, you could see him. You could see him perfectly.

You saw his blue eye and the patch that covered the missing one. You saw the stubble along his chin. The slight scar that was just below the patch. The wrinkles on his forehead.

You could see it all.

And the look of desperation and horror. It broke you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much.

Then, in the blink of an eye, you felt release.

You fell to the floor and started gasping for air. It was like the moment the alien released his grip on you, everything began again. The world, your thoughts, the chaos.

It was all there, and you couldn’t keep up.

“I see it now.” You heard the voice of the alien say. Your vision was blurry, and your eyes were still stinging from the tears, but you could make him out if only a bit.

He was now standing, towering over you, but he wasn’t looking at you. No, he was looking at Thor; his eyes were focused on the god, which sent a chill down your spine.

When dealing with Hela, you find yourself recovering with confidence. She could’ve easily killed you with a snap of her finger, but when she demanded your name, you had spat in her face and gave a smile.

Even though Thor wasn’t there at that moment, you somehow knew he’d be coming back to put an end to her, and you would be safe. It was like a sixth sense that came and made you stop panicking and running.

And, even though he technically didn’t put her down, he still was your knight in shining armor. It was the same with the dark elves and even with Loki.

They were all terrifying, yes, but somehow, you knew that Thor would save the day.

Now, though, it was different. You weren’t scared or panicked; no, you were terrified.

The fact that Thor was trapped and was physically in pain, the fact that Heimdall and more innocent Asgardians were lying on the floor, dead, and the fact that Loki was missing and Val was knocked unconscious, it had all hit you at once.

You felt like you were suffocating, and it only worsened when the alien spoke again.

“I was questioning why a mortal was amongst a group of Asgardians, how such a fragile being could survive so long among gods. I wondered, but I see it now. You have been blessed by one, and the last, of Odin's children."

The alien's attention was back on you, and the intensity of his gaze had you trembling. He was staring at you, looking through you, and reading you like a book.

"What a pitiful yet fortunate creature you are."

It was like the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs, and when he moved, you found yourself flinching and scooting backward.

He had leaned down again, and his large hand had grabbed the side of your face. The feeling of his skin on yours made your skin crawl, and the urge to vomit was growing.

Thor wasn’t having it. He was thrashing about; the metal that was encasing his body was bending and stretching with each move.

His cries of anger and the desperation in his eyes were heartbreaking. And it was only shut up by the alien who had taken you. A piece of metal flew to Thor’s mouth and held it in place, preventing him from yelling.

More grunts and muffled noises could be heard from the god, but you could no longer see him now. The purple man was blocking your view.

But, despite that, he was still talking to Thor.

"It is a shame, Thor Odinson. I take pity on the both of you, and I apologize, for it seems that fate has not been kind to either of you. But, we must make sacrifices. It is unfortunate that your beloved had to be one of them."

Then, suddenly, the alien turned his gaze back to you, and his dark eyes bore into yours. He was staring directly into your soul.

"Fear not, small child,” he said, his voice sounding almost calm. “You will not have to endure the pain and suffering as I did.”

The words that left his mouth did not give you comfort. It was quite the opposite.

Thor came back into your viewpoint as the purple man had moved, and when your eyes met his, all you saw was a mixture of panic and despair.

Thor's expression had you feeling a type of way. You could feel your stomach sink.

You weren’t dumb. You were far from it.

You knew where this was going, and your mind was screaming, screaming for you to do something, anything.

Run.

Fight.

Scream.

Just do something.

But all you did was stare. Stare at the man that you loved. The man that loved you. The man who had saved you countless times.

But he couldn’t save you now, even when you cried out his name in a soft voice, that frail, humane part of you begging him with your eyes to stop this from happening.

To stop it from hurting.

He couldn’t.

All he could do was look at you, look as you were taken. Look as you were pulled away from him.

All he could do was stare and scream.

It was the loudest, most horrific sound you had ever heard. It was worse than the explosion.

It was worse than anything.

It was the cry of a man who had just lost the last thing that gave him purpose.

It was the sound of a god being torn to pieces.

And it was all because of you.

That was the last thing you heard. That was the last image that burned itself into your brain.

The sound of Thor and his desperate screams was the last thing you remembered.

Everything after that was darkness.

No memories, no thoughts, nothing.

Just darkness.

All he wanted was you.

All he needed was you.

And now, all he had left was the memory of you: that and his broken heart.

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kilikina34512 · 5 months

Text

Loki Meets Peter

I hate how long I've been gone from writing and posting, but to explain would be a story in itself. Long short, life sucks, desire for enjoyments was gone, and I'm refinding myself and my writing. I look forward to writing more here and there until I have more time again. It's shorter than I prefer to write, but I had an hour only to spare.

This story is based from a meme I saw on TikTok that I can't seem to find again, but wrote from what I remembered with my own flare to it. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Summary: Loki comes back to the compound only to meet Spiderman. Basically, Peter being Peter and Loki's reaction to it.

Warnings: none, kinda fluffy cute

Word Count: 706

You were so happy to have Loki home, you could barely peel yourself from his side after the Bifrost had vanished. He'd been gone off world with Thor for over a month dealing with a conflict that was facing Asgard. Part of his release from life in the dungeons had been contingent on using his abilities for good, which for Odin had meant responding when summoned to fight for Asgard instead of its destruction.

A deal you weren't enthusiastic about, but that was a battle for another day.

Right now, you were enjoying just being able to hold his hand as you both walked into the compound. You knew he'd been healed already before returning home, but you could see the strain in his body language that you'd learned to read. His shoulders were more tense and tight, spine straighter than normal to hide the fatigue, his face a bit stonier than it normally would be with you around. You had a relaxing day planned for the two of you, everyone already knowing not to bother you so you could both spend time together after such a time away from one another.

You were halfway down the hall that led to your suite when a door closer to you opened and a small form came out of the room. Seeing who it was, you feared this could go badly with how tense your God of Mischief was. It wasn't uncommon for him to snap at someone when he'd come back from Asgard, which was why no one had a problem with you helping him get back into a more amiable mood.

Before you could say anything against it, the boy a few inches taller than you raced over and had his hand stuck towards your man. "You must be Mr. Loki! Hi, I'm Peter, Peter Parker. It's so nice to finally meet you, she's told me so much about you." Peter's eyes quickly indicated you before staring excitedly at the god before him. You'd already told Loki about the newest Avenger on your way inside the building so that if they came across each other, it wouldn't be a surprise. Still, you'd hoped not to have this meeting until tomorrow.

Letting go of your hand after a moment of hesitation, Loki finally shook Peter's hand. "You must be the one called Spiderman. I am Loki, of Asgard."

Peter, in his ever inquisitive nature, immediately asked, "I know you're an Avenger too, but, aren't you like... a bad guy?"

Loki, ever the smart mouthed silver-tongued Prince, didn't hesitate to respond, "It varies from moment to moment."

You gave Loki an admonishing look that you knew he saw. You could see the faint tug of his lips, knowing he wanted to smirk at your response. "So," Peter dragged out before continuing, "How much do I need to worry? Like, on a scale of one to ten, one being flicking someone's ear and ten being something horrible like killing puppies and kittens, where are you at right now?"

Loki blinked and you barely held back the giggle that wanted to let loose. You watched his posture relax ever so slightly and his voice came out with less of its formal tone. "I would say it is currently about a three."

The boy in front of you both smiled before nodding. "Cool, could you let me know if it ever gets above a six?" Looking down at the alert on his watch, Peter looked back up with a more urgent expression. "I have to go, Happy is waiting to take me over to see Aunt May. It was nice to meet you!" With that, the boy rushed away as fast as he could without all out running.

After a moment of staring at Peter as he departed, Loki turned to look at you, amusement shining in his eyes. "I like the boy of arachnids. He amuses me greatly."

A wide smile broke out across your face as you tugged him back down the hall again, ready to spoil him. "I'm glad to hear it, he's a precious bean for sure. Now let's get to our room, I have everything ready for a bath and a new book of poetry is beside the bed ready for cuddles and reading."

#loki fluff #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki x reader fluff #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x peter parker #loki x peter #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker fluff #peter parker his cute self #amused loki #short fic #kili stories

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 9 months

Note

Hello, my dear, I see that your requests are open so may I throw in my own request?

Okay here it is... how about a fic where reader is moving in with Loki in the Asgardian palace and she gets lost somewhere and starts wandering endlessly before she finds a door and beyond the door, she finds Loki!

I purposefully left the details of what is behind the door out so you could do it! Could be a garden, just his rooms or a secret portal to a comfort place! Let your imagination run wild!

I love you and your work!

~LRM

“An Oasis”- A Prince!Loki x Reader one shot

Summary: Prince Loki brought you to Asgard as his lover in order to protect you from the looming threat of Midgard’s destruction. Unfortunately, the end of your world may be less terrible than the taunts and sneers of the jealous Asgardians targeting you for being brought into their pristine, perfect, eternal realm. Lost and afraid, you find yourself desperate for comfort, for solace, perhaps for a place where you can be fully alone to enjoy Loki’s affections…

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Reader Genre: Angst, fluff Content Warning: Detailed descriptions of war and speculative IRL apocalyptic events, Reader is heavily bullied (specifically, fatphobia), getting physically lost, descriptions of panic attack symptoms, angst, fluffy ending Word Count: 2.9k

When the bombs began to fall around your home, you couldn’t believe your fortune, as silly as it sounded, for it just so happened that you were in love…

…and love would ultimately save your life.

Loki, Prince of Asgard and occasional visitor to Earth (or Midgard, as he called it), had discovered you, alone in the world and working a dead-end job, and found himself fascinated with a mortal for the first time in his life. You could keep him engaged with deep conversation for days without rest, and in turn, he amused you with his wit and flirtations.

Of course, his looks didn’t hurt either. You weren’t sure if it was his shiny, cascading black hair that glistened in the sun, or his radiant grin that somehow could be inviting and threatening all at once, or his musculature, promising safety or sensual delight depending on what you asked for. Perhaps it was how he chose to dress in tight leather leggings and dazzling armor whenever he was in public, like a proud peacock bragging his aesthetic superiority to the entire city. Whatever feature it was that finally triggered your need for his touch, you quickly lost track of the blurring world around you as your bond with Loki tumbled deeper and deeper into love before you knew it.

Meanwhile, the world around you was crumbling, a decaying testament to the follies of humanity. The missiles became stronger, the discourse more extreme. Russia had shoved through Ukraine (to much global weeping), and now they’d decided to try on Romania for size. In the States where you lived, the extreme right-wing parties had succeeded in warping the federal system to ensure their constant supermajority in DC, and now they were nearing completion on turning your country into a theocracy.

The sweeping love story you had with the Prince of Asgard was your inner sanctum, and you were thankful, for most others didn’t have such a profound shelter in the bosom of their true love to retreat to at night.

However, Loki had one day had enough.

“I will not see my mistress living and dying under these conditions that stupid mortals have put before her,” he insisted sternly, only quickly answering your questions as he prepared you for a new life in his palace. On the news, things had escalated in Europe, and now the government was handing out brochures and advisory messages about fallout shelters and life after an apocalyptic event. You and Loki hadn’t said as much to one another, but you both knew the missiles were coming, and that Midgard’s days were numbered.

Finally, two missiles had launched, and one had landed less than three hundred miles from your city. It was that minute, as the people out on the street below your apartment began to scramble in panic, that Loki took you into his arms and called out for Heimdall to open the Bifrost for you. His heavy, muscled arms refused to allow you breath, as if loosening his grip would make you fall through them. You felt him hyperventilate as you traveled through the realms, finally landing at the gates of Asgard to a bewildered gatekeeper.

“My Prince, may I ask who the uninvited mortal may be?” asked Heimdall, his lip twisted in skepticism.

Loki finally released you, aside from your hand which he gripped protectively. “Midgard is falling. She seeks asylum, in my home and in my arms.”

Heimdall sighed heavily. “I suppose I cannot deny my Prince--”

“--then don’t,” Loki asserted with authority.

Heimdall didn’t wince or react, aside from acquiescing with a head bow and a smile in your direction. “Welcome to Asgard, maiden.”

Hence, your life as an emigrant on Asgard began, and Loki saw to it that from Day One, your life was an endless line of luxurious days and decadent nights rolling around on the furs he layered on his bed, the firelight bouncing off of your bare skin, painting your flesh a warm, inviting orange. He knew he had duties to perform, so from the first second, he had his fellow palace-dwellers, the nobles, royals, and high-status companions, keep you company, showing you the palace and the Asgardian way of life while he saw to the endless matters of state a Prince had to address daily.

“I have a lot of back work that I ignored during my time on Midgard with you, sparrow, so I may be scarce for a number of days, if you can mind that,” he warned. You’d just been happy to be there, so you nodded before dragging him to bed, barely minding anything he said.

However, there was one thing even Loki couldn’t control, and it was how the Asgardians treated you while his back was turned. They’d chosen to make it evident that they all disapproved of a pointless little mortal being elevated to a status above theirs. Instead of showing you every nook of the palace to give you a sense of knowing your way around, they purposefully left you out of their daily walks, only knocking on your chamber doors to acknowledge your existences at the most basic level. This meant that after a week, you still were lost the instant you stepped outside of your apartments.

After a few days, they’d grown bold enough to make the taunting verbal.

“Little worthless bitch.” “What a whore.” “She has a spell on him, I’m sure of it.” “I hope the little slut chokes to death on his cock.”

And those were to your back. To your face, they were even worse.

“Could you EAT any more, pig?” laughed one concubine, walking by as you left an empty tray of food outside of your door to be collected. “You may as well take that down to the kitchens yourself. Get any fatter and you’ll be working in the scullery for sure!”

You’d tried to make your way around the palace on your own, but no one would help you when you asked for directions. At best, the servants and nobles ignored you. At worst, they stuck a toe out from under their robes to trip you and chuckle at your clumsiness. This was done to you at least daily.

“His last lover was a dancer with the Asgardian Dancers Guild,” mocked a witness dressed head-to-toe in gold. “And here you plod along like a retired hunting hound! Loki must be out of his skull to want you!”

You didn’t get up for several minutes, ashamed to reveal your reddened face to the small assembly now gathered to watch the confrontation conclude. You waited until the clacking of their heeled shoes and boots subsided, leaving you to slowly withdraw back to your rooms to wait for Loki.

You knew the only way to end your torment would be to tell him of your struggle with the locals, but after just an hour you thought better of it. Would Loki even believe you? Here were his friends, his companions of centuries, and you were his little blip-on-the-radar, guaranteed to die in perhaps seventy years if you were lucky, which was hardly a sneeze to the near-immortal God. You felt as if any word against his friends would be seen as an act of aggression, or perhaps an expression of regret for ever being led to Asgard in the first place.

I should take things gracefully. Perhaps they will grow tired of it and let me be, you hoped. Of course, things got worse as your first few days progressed, and soon, you weren’t sure if you could find shelter in Loki’s heart any more. The negative thoughts quickly became your own, invading your mind at the worst times. You started to crack under the pressure and the taunts.

On the evening of the eighth day, you’d finally had enough. Having rung for supper, you’d open your door to receive your tray just as the two daughters of one of Loki’s sentries threw the contents of the platter at you, the hot food landing all over your skin and robes before you could shut the door again. You could hear the girls giggling and oinking as they skipped away.

Gritting your teeth, you began to shake as you held back tears. Okay, I don’t care if this means going back to a burning ash pile. Home is better than here!

After quickly cleaning up and changing into a loose green robe, you took off down the hall, determined to find Loki’s study no matter where it was, and no matter how lost you became. You were determined to come clean to him, and then to ask him where the hell he’d been this week. If this was how scarce he would be, then why did he even bother bringing you here if he knew he’d be forced to go back to his studies and war rooms while you bore the teasing and abuse at the hands of his friends?

The hallways seemed longer as the shadows of dusk elongated then, giving your path a creepy, unnerving feeling as you become more and more lost in the gilded labyrinth. Your footsteps echoed off the mirrored walls, reminding you of the hallways of Versailles. Your heart began to beat faster against your ribcage, causing your chest muscles to restrict with anxiety.

I should have left a trail of breadcrumbs, or unraveled a ball of yarn…

An hour passed. The sun (or whatever the Asgardians called their source of daylight) set completely, leaving the flickering torches lining the walls your only guiding light. The other nobles walking the halls of the palace retired to their parlor parties and gambling tables, leaving you alone as you realized that you had to be miles from either your chambers or Loki’s.

“L…Loki?” you finally verbalized your fear. “Loki? Darling?!”

You shuffled along, the panic rising in your throat, burning like bile, threatening to spill over into a full attack that would surely send you up against the wall.

I really can’t handle this…what have I gotten myself into??

Tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes. Your skin went red and hot, beads of sweat prickling your forehead as your ears buzzed. You decided before you lost control completely to duck into an empty room to ride it out, and then perhaps said room would have a bell you could use to summon a servant. Then, perhaps you could pull rank and force them to bring you back without a barrage of cruel names for once--

--then you saw it: a crack of bright light escaping from a doorway nearby on your left that was just slightly ajar. Sanctuary!

You threw the door open without peeking inside, slamming it behind you just in time for you to sink to your knees behind it, letting the tears come pouring silently down your cheeks. After a moment, you’d managed to gather yourself enough to get to your feet, and it occurred to you that you may have just burst into someone’s private meeting to cry, which wasn’t going to help your already-abysmal reputation.

You dusted yourself off and got your first look at your chosen hiding place.

It was a library. Easily the grandest you’d ever seen.

You’d entered into an atrium in the center of the circular room, and your eyes first followed three floors of balcony in a continuous spiral rising off the floor and winding against the walls and shelves until it hit a mosaic on the ceiling of winding morning glories along a trellis. The entirety of the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and all were overstocked with tomes, old and new, of every genre, language, and topic you could fathom, plus more. Stacks of books piled the floors as ancient, musty stalagmites. The beauty and scale of the room was enough to make your jaw drop and forget the woes of moments ago.

Directly in front of you, underneath the first floor of the winding balcony, was a pit tucked within an alcove, along the far wall of which was a corner-to-corner fireplace, lit and roaring with flame, in front of two large lounge chairs, a table in between. You wandered over to the alcove and stepped into the pit, and it was instantly remarkable how cozy the reading room was compared to the huge scale of the library outside.

It was everything you’d dreamed your room in Heaven would look like as a kid. I will hide here until I’m ready to find Loki in the morning, you decided. It’s as if this place was made for me…

“Y/N? Dearest? How did you find your way here? I wasn’t quite ready for you!”

Loki appeared behind you, just outside of the alcove, looking pleasantly surprised, at least until you turned around, and he saw your tear-lined face. His face fell, and he opened his arms, stepping inside as you stumbled to meet his embrace.

“They’ve been so mean to me….everyone…” you managed to articulate beyond your sobs. Loki rocked you slowly back and forth, slowly tempering your shakes.

Loki sighed sadly. “I wish you would have told me sooner--”

“--you…you…y--you haven’t been around!” you whispered back. You felt Loki grip you tighter, as tightly as he had the day he brought you away from the carnage of Midgard.

He was silent for a moment. “I hadn’t realized…I’d been busy--”

“--with work, I know, and I’m not mad, I just, they don’t think I’m worthy of you, and--” you began to babble before Loki loosened his hold on you to put a gente finger against your lips, softly pressing against the delicate skin with a ‘shh!’

“I will see to them later, and I assure you they will pay dearly for their insolence,” Loki promised. “But first, an apology, and then, a gift.”

He caressed your damp, hot cheek with a cool hand. “I should not have left you to your own devices as soon as I brought you here. It was thoughtless of me.”

“I don’t even know where in the palace I am, or where my rooms are!” you exclaimed. “They refused to show me anywhere. I got so lost…”

“...if you are ever lost again, know that I will always find you, princess, and that you will always be my equal in worth and splendor,” Loki vowed softly, laying a soft, quiet kiss across your lips that brought your heart rate to a hum. You got the feeling Loki’s kiss would always have this effect on you. “I am deeply sorry, please trust that I will never act so carelessly again.”

You smiled in relief, knowing that in spite of what any Midgardian logic would tell you, your heart knew the earnestness in his promise. “My soul is yours, Prince Loki,” you whispered affectionately, batting your eyelashes with a coquettish air, one you knew he couldn’t resist.

He returned the look with one of his own, one with his signature mischievous twitch along the left corner of his lip, which always gave him away to you. “What?” you asked cautiously.

“Your gift,” he said, backing away from you and taking your hands in his, guiding you out of the alcove and back into the open atrium. Once he placed you in the middle of the room, he stepped away to execute a show-off’s twirl, his open arms gleefully presenting the library to you. “All of this is yours, if you like it.”

You didn’t know what to say, other than pointing around you and nodding. “This? Whole room?”

Loki grinned, the present clearly having the effect on you that he’d hoped for. “And every volume within! I know how you are such a fervent reader, dearest, and I thought you may want a special retreat outside of your chambers, so I took the--”

You stopped his train of thought with a kiss, littered intermittently with a hundred ‘thank yous.’ Loki chuckled at your enthusiastic approval and swept you across the marble floors.

When you finally calmed down enough to take a deep breath and look around again, Loki took the opportunity to make a suggestion. “Shall I show you around, and how everything is arranged? The New York Public Library…um, shall we say…kindly donated these in the hours before the Midgardian Wars began in full,” he explained with a wink.

“You stole from a library?” you asked with mock shock.

Loki ran a finger over your smiling lip. “I stole for a library, princess. Now, where do you want to begin?”

You shook your head. Quickly going over to the nearest pile of books, reaching to your waist, you grabbed the first book, and without looking at the title, pressed it into your lover’s hands. “Read to me in front of the fire,” you asked. “All night.”

He looked at you quizzically. “You don't even know what this book is about?”

You beckoned Loki toward the alcove again. “I don’t care. I just want to hear your voice. Then I’ll know I am forever safe.”

💗 Hi LRM! Sorry this took ages! I'm still struggling a bit with my muses. I hope this satisfies! :) I love you too! 💗

No-Pressure Taggies: @holdmytesseract @lokisgoodgirl @anukulee @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @chantsdemarins @coldnique @joyful-enchantress @kellatron55 @xorpsbane @lovelysizzlingbluebird @gigglingtiggerv2

#loki #fanfiction #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki angst #loki fluff #bullying #asgard #MCU #FLUFF ENDING

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