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#loki laufeyson/y/n
literaryavenger · 2 months
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Can I be him?
Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.8K
A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤
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Being an Avenger is not easy.
The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…
Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.
For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.
It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.
You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 
Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.
You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.
You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.
The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.
Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.
It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 
The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.
You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.
Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.
Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.
Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.
You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.
At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.
Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 
Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.
Because of me.
That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 
You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.
Not that you ever do. 
If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.
Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.
Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.
But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 
The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.
You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.
You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.
Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.
Bucky knew then he was in love.
But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 
You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.
So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.
But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.
Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.
For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.
That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.
He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 
Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.
So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.
Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.
But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.
Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.
You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.
You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.
Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.
You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.
Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.
And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.
He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.
Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.
Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.
So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.
He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.
He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.
But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 
Bucky did notice, though.
He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.
He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.
When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 
He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.
It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 
You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 
A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 
You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 
And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?
He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?
Of course it’s not me. 
It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 
Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.
He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.
Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.
But Bucky didn’t read that.
He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.
It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.
After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.
It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.
He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.
It’s silly to say, but you miss him.
Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.
He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.
You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.
A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.
You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.
You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.
Or at least that’s what you think.
As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.
Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”
That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.
You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.
Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.
Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.
The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.
The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.
“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”
Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.
He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.
But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.
His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.
Right?
He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.
But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.
“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.
“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.
As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.
Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.
As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.
Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.
When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.
That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.
That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.
He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.
Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.
Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.
Because you’re going to wake up.
Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.
Everything is dying.
Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?
No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.
He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.
He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.
But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.
Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.
After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.
That he could’ve lived with. 
But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.
Not that he has to.
While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.
You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.
You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.
You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?
You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.
When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.
But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.
You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.
“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.
For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.
“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.
It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 
You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.
“I’m okay…” He reassures you.
Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 
“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”
“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”
“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.
“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”
Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?
You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.
Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.
“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”
Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?
Could I be him?
“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.
“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.
“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.
Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.
“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?
“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.
“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.
It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 
Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 
You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.
Instead you lean in and kiss him.
Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”
You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.
“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 
Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?
It looks like he can be him after all.
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cleo-fox · 8 months
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Close Quarters
Part 1 of 2
Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”
Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.
The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.
A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.
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Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.
So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.
It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.
“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.
“This mission requires a unique skillset.”
You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”
Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”
There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”
*
Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.
Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.
Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.
Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.
You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.
“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.
“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.
Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:
Do your job, Agent.
Maybe you’ll take up meditation.
If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts
The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.
One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).
You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.
*
The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.
“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.
You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.
“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.
“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”
He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.
The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.
But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.
Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.
It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.
He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.
He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.
You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.
You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.
In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.
It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.
You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.
You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.
He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.
“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.
Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Agent.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Agent.”
Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.
“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”
It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face. 
Fuck.
“Agent?”
You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”
He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment. 
This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.
Fuck.
You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.
*
It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.
Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings—he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely. 
The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.
Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.
“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.
(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).
“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.
“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”
“I’d never.”
“You are so full of shit.”
“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”
“You wish.”
“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”
“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”
He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”
“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”
His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”
Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.
“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.
“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”
You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”
“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”
“Is he still looking?”
“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”
You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.
His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.
“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”
You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.
“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.
You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”
“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”
This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.
“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.
You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.
“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.
He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”
Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.
“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.
This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.
To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.
Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.
“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.
“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”
Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.
“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”
“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”
“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”
“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”
You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”
Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”
*
The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.
They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.
Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.
“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”
“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.
Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.
There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.
The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.
The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.
The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.
Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.
This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.
And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.
You lick your lips.
He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.
He definitely knows.
Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.
“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”
You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.
“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”
It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.
“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.
You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”
“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”
It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on. 
Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass. 
“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”
You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.
“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.
More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”
His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”
“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”
He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”
Fuck yes.
If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.
“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”
You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”
“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.
“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.
He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”
You press your lips together. This is infuriating.
“I’m waiting…”
You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”
He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”
“You absolutely were.”
The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.
“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”
“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”
“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.
“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”
The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.
“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”
“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.
“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”
“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.
“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”
“I can wait until we get to the ro—”
He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.
“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”
There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.
The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.
Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.
“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”
You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.
“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.
“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.
“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”
You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.
“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”
This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.
“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.
“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”
“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.
“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”
Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.
“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.
His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.
“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”
Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.
“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”
Continued in Part 2
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simplyholl · 5 months
Text
Frozen Stiff
Summary: Captured by the Frost Giants, your time on Jotunheim gets interesting.
Pairing: Jotun Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Loss of virginity. Size kink. Somnophilia.
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You really did it this time. Your father instructed everyone stay in their homes this night. Loki, king of the Frost Giants had warned your father, King Erik, king of the elves that he would be coming through Alfheim. If anyone was caught outside, they would be considered an enemy, and taken prisoner.
Your father’s royal decree had went in one ear and out the other. You were considered a trouble maker. Not because of anything you had done consciously. Trouble seemed to follow wherever you went. You were so unlike your sister, the future queen of Alfheim, and no one let you forget that.
She was tucked away safely in her chambers with the door locked. Here you were, hiding in the bushes outside the palace. You wanted to get a good look at the Frost Giants. You had never seen one in person, and you didn’t think the view from your chambers would do them any justice.
Loud footsteps echoed throughout the forest as they stomped through. The trees were shaking with each step they took, the force of their large bodies leaving holes in the ground where they walked. They were approaching quickly. You really should run back in the palace, but you were frozen. The first few Jotuns walk by and you’re stunned.
They are even bigger than you imagined. Then you see him, King Loki. He struts through and a wild thought comes to you. He’s beautiful. You had always been taught that the Frost Giants were ugly beasts that would take misbehaving children in the night. They seemed nice enough. King Loki had even given your father warning before passing through. He and the last three giants walk passed you and you count the seconds before you can run back inside.
Woof
You look beside you terrified. Your sister’s dog, Arnie, pants beside you, tail wagging.
Woof
He barks again. You grab him, trying your best to shush him. But it’s too late. He’s gained their attention. They turn back around, looking toward the bushes you are hiding in. You sink lower to the ground, trying to shove your body under the bush. You close your eyes, hoping if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.
But their footsteps shake the ground as they come closer. “What have we here?” One of them growls, picking you up with one hand. “We found a spy, your highness.”
“Bring him to me.” King Loki demands. You squeak as you are dropped from one huge hand into another. You shiver, the temperature of his skin is colder than you could have imagined. “Not a he, but a she.” He says amused, as he looks closely at you.
“What are you doing out here, little mouse? I warned your king that we would take anyone we found outside prisoner.” You swallow, trying to seem braver than you felt. “My father, King Erik, he did command the whole village to stay inside, your highness. I was simply curious and I wanted to see you for myself.”
Loki looks at you in the palm of his hand, amusement dancing on his features. “Your father, the king? So that makes you a princess? Are you the heir to the throne?” You shake your head. “No, your highness, that would be my sister.” You introduce yourself hoping it will get you out of this situation.
“A princess for a prisoner. What an interesting day it’s turning out to be.” He sneers. “No, wait!” You protest. He closes his hand around you, silencing you. When you arrive in Jotunheim, you are brought to a room with a giant bed, huge fluffy pillows, and a roaring fireplace. King Loki places you on the bed.
“This isn’t normally how I treat my prisoners, but you are still a princess. As long as you obey me, you may stay in this room and avoid the dungeon. You are free to walk around, and I will let everyone know that no harm is to come to you. Am I understood?”
“Yyyyesss” You stutter, you had been freezing the entire trip. You run to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together in an effort to get warm. Loki studies you, his red eyes lingering on your sheer nightgown. You really didn’t plan on getting captured when you went out, so you didn’t bother with putting on a proper dress.
You regret that decision now as his gaze lands on your breasts, heaving on your shaking form. He could see everything through the nightgown, and he was already looking, so you didn’t bother with attempting to cover yourself. “I’ll have someone make you proper clothing. In the meantime, there are extra blankets in the closet.” He walks out, leaving you with your thoughts.
Months had passed and you were settling into your new home. No one treated you like a prisoner, and you decided for once in your life to stay out of trouble. You had been given a job in the palace kitchen and you were making new friends. You were actually starting to like it here.
You giggle as your closest friend Marta, asks about your sex life. As a princess, you had to save yourself for whoever your father chose for you. You knew very little about the act itself. But Marta filled you in. She answered every question you had without judging you, and she even gave you some tips. The most shocking part was learning that a male might want to kiss you between your thighs. Marta told you there was nothing like it, so you couldn’t help fantasizing about it the rest of the day. When you laid your head down to rest, your tried to think of more questions for Marta.
The door to your room squeaked open. King Loki walked in, shutting it behind him. He gently removed the blankets from your sleeping form. You were wearing the nightgown from the first night you met him. He reaches out, his long finger grazing your nipple. The chill from his skin causing it to harden under his touch. You sigh from his attention, but don’t wake up. He carefully spreads your legs, laying down between them. His cold tongue meets your center, and you buck your hips toward him. He takes this as an invitation, long tongue lapping between your thighs.
You jump up, searching your room for him, but he’s not there. It was all a dream. You confide in Marta about it and she says it must be your conversation. It made its way into your subconscious. But you didn’t talk to Marta about it the next night when you had it or the next night. Weeks had passed and still, you had the same dream every night. It made it awkward for you when you had to serve King Loki his meals.
“King Loki has requested you serve his dessert in his chambers.” Marta told you, handing you the tray piled high with pastries, cakes, and fruit. You knock on his door, waiting for his instruction to enter. When he calls for you to come in, you bow to him. “My king, I’ve brought your dessert.” He’s propped up on his bed, gesturing for you to place it on a table by the window.
He’s so big, he nearly takes up all the room on the large bed. His muscled blue form has been the object of your fantasies for a while now. “Remove your dress, and get on the bed.” He demands. You drop the metal tray on the table. “Excuse me, your highness. I must have misheard you.”
He pats the bed, “You heard correctly, little mouse. I know you desire me. You dream of me every night. I’m only rewarding your good behavior.” You fight the urge to pinch yourself. You must be dreaming. “How did you know about that?” You manage to mumble. “I know all, little one. You can hide nothing from me.”
He beckons you with his thick finger. You do as he instructed, removing your dress and getting on the bed with him. He lifts you with one hand, hovering you above his face. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammer. “I’m having my dessert.” He quips placing you on his mouth. His long, cold tongue covers your center. You shiver from the chill. His velvety muscle curls beneath your clit, flicking it.
He treats you like a porcelain doll, holding you as if you might break. He could easily crush you without trying. You really were like his own personal doll. He enters your untouched flesh with his tongue, rocking you back and forth on it. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, trying to ground yourself. He drinks you like it’s water, the icy muscle tipping you over the edge, making your toes curl.
He suddenly tosses you on your back, his bulky form trapping you beneath him. He settles between your thighs. They start aching as he spreads them as wide as he can. It’s still not wide enough to accommodate him. So he pushes your knees to your chest, his gigantic cock nudging your center.
The thought of ruining such a small, delicate woman driving him mad with lust. “I’ll split you in half, little mouse. You would like that wouldn’t you?” Your still dazed from your orgasm, so you only hum in response. “My sweet princess is cock drunk and she hasn’t had any cock yet.” You nod, reaching for him. “I am the first to touch you, correct?” Another hum to confirm.
You gasp when he dips a large finger inside you, curling it upwards. “I have to get you ready.” He explains. As he works his skilled finger inside you, you rock your hips, hungry for more. You whine as he removes his digit from you, but you’re not left wanting for long. He thrusts into you, and you scream. He stretches you, and you try to adjust to his size. You feel him bottom out and you wiggle to get more comfortable.
Tears fall down your cheeks, the stinging not subsiding. “My poor princess. I’m too much for her. It’s only the tip, my sweet girl.” He gently traces the outline of his cock bulging in your stomach. Loki presses on it. “I can see myself protruding out of your stomach, little one. Do you know how feral that makes me? Such a small creature struggling to take the head of my cock.”
He tilts his hips, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Goosebumps line your arms when you feel his breath on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, my little princess. You feel incredible. I’ll keep you forever, my little plaything.” You whimper at his words, a gush of arousal soaking him. He moans, looking at your fucked out expression. He wraps his enormous hand around your waist, thrusting you down on him, faster.
Loki roars as he releases inside you. He pulls out, spreading your now limp legs. “I want to see me dripping out of you.” He lowers his head, black tresses covering your stomach as his icy tongue laps at you once more. “What a delicious mess you made.” He coos.
Tags
@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess
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ashdreams2023 · 6 months
Note
Can u do Loki x touch starved reader Headcanons? Maybe reader is an avenger and had a tough past
Loki x touch starved reader
Ok at first he would think you’re just clingy to get his attention then he starts to realize
Oh? You actually like this, you want to be close to him because it makes you feel good
Honestly if that’s all it takes to make you happy then baby he’s on board
Hand holding 24/7
Assures you that he doesn’t hate it and having you close is a delight
He has his arm around your waist when you’re in formal events
Kisses, lots and lots and he loves it, don’t ever think he’ll get sick of it
Runs his hands through your hair and caresses your arms when you cuddle
Holds you tight at night and most nights is the little spoon so you can keep him as close as you want
Let’s you cling to him while he walks around the house and smooches your face when you lay your head on his chest
Carries you around just because he can, and beside you look cute all curled up against his chest
Intimate times are like the best thing ever, you’re having the time of your life because you love the skin to skin and he’s simply enjoying how satisfied you are
Sometimes you sneak underneath his sweater and warp your arms around his middle
Actually loves all the attention, it feeds his ego but also it’s nice to have positive attention for once in a while
Puts his hand on your thigh when you two sit next to each other
Fingers tangled together under the table at dinner
Foreheads pressing against each other as goodbyes and hugs where you’re feet off the ground as hellos
Plays with your hands and puts them on his face and kisses your palm
Runs his hands softly over old scars and hums while he holds you close
Everyone rolls their eyes at you two but no one interferes because they know you deserve it
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suguru-getos · 6 months
Text
୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 16﹕✦﹕┈・୧
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loki x f!reader -> çnç
event masterlist
warnings: çnc themes, slight choking, bondage, cunnilingus, loki being a menace but both the reader & loki break character in the end. mentions of aftercare and sweet fluff‼️
“running will land you in worse situations than this one, pet.” the echoing voice of loki reverberated through the shell of your ear, louder than your panting, your gasping as you tried to clutch onto your failing lungs for air. “how adoring of you to think you can outrun, the god, your god.” loki’s low, mocking chuckle followed soon after.
you were aimlessly running in the asgardian castle corridors, trying with all your heart and soul to escape the ruthlessness of your captor. getting almost dizzy when you forced your feet to take another step, almost falling down if it wasn’t for those metallic ornamented wrists laced with fine asgardian leather grabbing you by the neck. “oh, found you.” he grimly chuckles.
“please— your highness, i will never run again.” you clutched onto his wrist, scratching it up while loki lifted you up forcefully, your legs leaving the ground but you didn’t feel choked. of course— him and his theatrics. “i know you won’t run, little pet. because i will render those legs useless when i’d be done with you.” loki gritted his teeth, baring the green light in his eyes as you got tied up, teleporting to his bedroom and against his mattress. green silk bands tied your wrists and ankles apart, like a starfish.
you tried your best to struggle away, but the tug only got tighter until a painful whimper escaped your parted lips. “submission might aid. i might add.” loki’s words were like a silent warning & also a hint. you may comply and he might be merciful. “please your highness, i beg off you to let me go.” you crooned, glossy eyed.
“oh, darling,” loki feigns pity, and the next moment you find yourself naked in front of his feasting eyes. nipples hardening at the tender touch of colder air and cunt clamping around nothing now that you felt so drastically exposed. your eyed squeezed shut, heat radiating through your cheeks as you turned your head to the side. “you should pray to your god, no? pray to him to be merciful.” loki muses, leaning in and kissing your throbbing clit.
the touch alone sent jolts down your spine and core, pupils widening at his skilled tongue twirling around your needy clit. “you taste sinful.” he smirked, eyes glancing at your furrowed brows. “let me go.” you tried once more, meek whimpers erupting from your pouted lips.
“hmm?” loki contemplated, acting as if he might actually let you go. “alright.” he leaned back, glinting mischievously with a smirk. “if you don’t want me having my way with you, then you don’t cum. after all. it is all but torment to you is it not?” loki emphasises, knowing full well you’d lose yourself and cream the moment he goes hard on your cunt.
you pouted, while that was answer enough, loki still wanted to show you the control he has over you. spreading your cunt lips, he leaned in, taking a shameless sniff of your arousal. “how cute.” he smirked, leaning in and lapping at your juices. fuck— you were feeling so hot and bothered, every single vein in your body feeling the heat of his administrations. you reflexively rutted your hips against him, eager to please yourself over his tongue, eager to cum.
“your highness- AH loki- please- please i’m so close.” it was not before long your body had betrayed you & you were reduced to a mumbling, panting, begging mess. even so, you knew better than to cum without loki’s permission. “go on, little pet.” loki’s thumb ran languid circles onto your clit. “have at it.”
your orgasm tore through your body as you screamed out his name, rabid breathing echoing through the walls of your shared bedroom. “fuck- fuck- can’t can’t.” your moans reduced to pleas again, when loki didn’t want to stop at just one orgasm. “please loki- need a break.” you gasped out, normally you could give him two orgasms without break, but the situation you were in made you a little more sensitive than normal.
“need a break? or want a break, pet?” loki asked once more, a silent nudge for your surity if you wanted him to break his character.
“need a break, loki.” you whimpered back, struggling against the restraints. the use of his first name was signal enough. “alright darling.” he smiled, the restraints gone as he leaned in, kissing you passionately.
“oh what a man you make me to be.” he rolled his eyes when you hug him back, inhaling the comfort of his scent. “it was fun! don’t lie.” you pouted, smiling back when he nuzzled his nose against you.
“you do know that i would never do anything against your will, right princess?” loki reminded you again, while you nodded in approval. “yes, i do.”
“perfect.”
“lifting me off the ground was a bit much.”
“come on, little one, i am known for my theatrics.”
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jayden-killer · 6 months
Text
TVA LOKI AS YOUR BF
I've never written for Loki before OWHWKAO, I was like: "let's give it a shot!". (´ー`).。*・゚゚
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• If we're talking about TVA Loki, then expect LOTS OF PHYSICAL TOUCH. Like, a lot.
• he doesn't hold himself: he'll sneak his arm around your shoulder, hugging you in public with no problem, giving reassurance hand squeezes. He doesn't care if you two are in public. He wants to show how much he appreciates you :))
• He'll pull magic tricks if you're sad or upset with smth/someone. Spoiler: he'll always make you smile, or laugh, after that!
• You'll notice Loki turning his gaze up in the sky in a thunderstorm. You'll need to give him some reassuring rubs on his back because every time he does that, he's wondering where his brother Thor is...
• He would make you meet his variants of him. But not President Loki. Sneaky bastard...
• He would need some reassurance from you sometimes. He still believes that he doesn't deserve the love and affection after seeing the files about his past, but you're there to kiss his thoughts away and making sure he's fine.♡
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oliwrites · 7 months
Text
Eavesdrop
relationship: loki x fem!reader
genre: smut
summary: loki cant help but overhear your conversation with natasha
warnings: smut (18+) unprotected piv, fingering, thigh riding, squirting, soft dom loki??, multiple orgasms, loki being nosy
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“I dunno, Nat… I love him to death, I really do… it’s just…” You say as you run your fingers through your hair. You didn’t like the idea of talking ‘bad’ about Loki behind his back, but this is the only way to get the emotions and thoughts off your chest.
“What is it? Stop beating around the bush! C’mon, I’m good at keeping secrets” Natasha replied, sipping on her beer.
“It’s kind of TMI but—”
“Oh please, TMI is nothing in this friendship and you know it, just spit it out!”
“Well… when Loki and I get… y’know… everything starts out great, but he just gets all soft and vanilla-y and I just wanna—” You start to explain, but stop when what you really want to say gets caught in the back of your throat.
What you and Natasha didn’t know is that Loki had walked out of the bedroom. His ears perked when he heard you say his name, so he walked towards Natasha’s room and listened in.
“Go on…” Natasha said
“Well… when we get frisky… he gets all soft and shit… like all mushy and gushy. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when he’s sweet to me… but I really just wanna be fucked. Not ‘made love to’ but ‘fucked so hard I can’t walk’ y’know?” I explain, a feeling of guilt washing over me as I finally say it.
“Have you tried bringing it up to him?”
“No… I want to, but I just don’t know how or when”
Loki frowned. Was he really boring you that much? You seemed pretty into it when the two of you were in action.
“I mean, when Bruce and I first started out, he was all mushy and stuff, all up until I sat him down in his bedroom and just told him how I felt. Ever since he’s pretty much been Hulk smashing me,” Natasha explained. I roll my eyes at her ‘Hulk smash’ comment
“What if I hurt his feelings?”
“He literally terrorized the city of New York and Stüggart, killed 80 people in 2 days, almost killed the entirety of the Frost Giant race, and faked his death 2 times. I don’t think he’ll be offended. Honestly, he might be more offended if you don’t tell him,” Natasha explained.
“But—”
“No buts, you’re literally the love of his life, and he would probably do anything to make you happy. Just trust me, babe, Loki isn’t going to be offended or mad, just communicate,” Natasha cut you off
Loki agreed silently. Natasha was right. He wasn’t offended or upset. He would climb the highest mountains and cut through every forest just go make you happy, if you asked. He decided to gather a plan, and he walked back into his room.
“You’re right. Thank you, Nat,” I smile and start to stand up, grabbing my beer bottle, and taking another drink of it, “I’m gonna go talk to him about it,” you smile, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling within your stomach.
“I would say tell me how it goes, but I’m sure I’ll be able to tell if you have a limp tomorrow or not,” Nat snorted, you flipped her off playfully and started to walk out of the room.
When you entered the hallway, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of your pocket and saw a text from Loki.
Loki: come visit me if you can, my little dove
You smile at his text. The nickname “little dove” always made your heart flutter. You pocket your phone and walk towards Loki’s room. You don’t even bother knocking, considering he was expecting you.
What you weren’t expecting was Loki to practically jump you the second you walked in.
He closed the door and pressed you firmly against it, kissing you hungrily as he groped your breasts without care. It took you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss, kissing him back just as roughly.
Your guys’ tongue and teeth clashed together as he guided you to his bed, pushing you down onto it, before removing his shirt, and hastily removing your sweatpants and tossing them to the side. Before he flipped you over, setting you on his thigh
“Ride me.” He commanded, leaving no room for discussion. You blush and move your hand to the string of his sweatpants, “Not there,” he said simply.
You blush before experimentally rubbing your panty-clad cunt against his thigh. You let out a shaky moan at the new feeling. Loki growled before he started bouncing his leg. You let out a surprised, but aroused shriek, stopping the movement of your hips.
You let out another shriek when you felt his hand come down harshly on your ass.
“Did I say you could stop?” He asked in a serious tone. You shake your head no, “then keep going,” He said simply, before he started to bounce his leg again.
You continue to grind down on him as he bounce his leg. The feeling of cotton against your clit had you almost screaming as you continued to buck down against his thigh.
“Loki, I—” You started, before you cut yourself off with another moan.
“Soak me,” He said, grabbing your hips and pushing you down harder against his thigh.
Your whole body quivered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your ears started to ring as you soaked his thigh completely, your juices squirting all over him.
He gave you no time to recover before he flipped you over and ripped your panties off and shoving two fingers inside of you, going at a rapid pace.
“Oh gods, Loki!” You screamed out, arching your back off the bed as his fingers drilled into you.
“You wanted to be fucked, hm? Oh I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow…” He said huskily, before going down and attaching his lips to your clit, sucking it harshly.
His words did not process in your mind, instead you screamed out his name and tangled your fingers into his hair.
He curled his fingers at just the right spot and you came again, soaking his face, fingers, and the bedsheets below you as your arousal sprayed out of you once again.
Loki stood up and took off his sweatpants and boxer before flipping you over so your ass is in the air. Without warning he plunged into you, fucking you at a breakneck pace.
“Is this what you wanted, hm? You wanted to be fucked? Treated like a toy?” Loki growled, before slapping your ass harshly as he continued to drill into your abused hole.
“Yes! Fuck, Loki!” You screamed out, grinding back into his hips, meeting each of his thrusts. The words he said remained incoherent, as, lack for better words, he fucked your brains out.
He grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it back, using it as leverage to fuck you even deeper. You gripped onto the bedsheets for dear life as he pummeled you with his cock.
He grunted as he felt his orgasm approaching, he reached forward, circling your clit at a rapid pace, causing you to scream out his name.
Your orgasm was approaching quickly as he fucked you swiftly. You tried to warn him, but were caught off by your orgasm as if ripped through your body.
You screamed out in sheer pleasure as you came on his cock. Your orgasm triggered his and he thrusted as deep as he could, spilling his seed deep inside of your quim.
He laid down next to you and looked at you with pure love in his eyes. You adjusted and laid down as well, looking at him.
“I actually wanted to talk—” You started, before being cut off by Loki
“You wanted to be fucked, not made love to… I overheard you and the Black Widow talking,” Loki said with a smile, “I hope I was able to fulfill your dreams,”
“Mmm… maybe another round or so could really fulfill my dreams” You smirked before crawling on top of Loki, starting yet another round
~ The Next Morning ~
You woke up in Loki’s bed, with Loki still sleeping peacefully next to you. You smile and decide to get up and head out to the kitchen for coffee.
You walked down the hallway into the Avengers common area where Natasha sat, drinking her own coffee. Natasha laughed at your limp as you hobbled over to the kitchen
“Oh shut the fuck up”
hayyy sorry for not posting in foreverrrr but i got bombarded with school, work, and family issues, and i haven’t really had the time to write something (even something small) and i also have officially hit a good ‘ol writers block!! if you have any requests please lmk and i will write them!!!
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michelleleewise · 1 year
Text
Bewitched
Pairing: Loki x female reader
Warnings: somnophilia, thigh riding, masturbation, spells gone wrong, "sex-pollen" type fic, swearing, dirty talk, loki speaking Norwegian, swearing, mildly explicit smut, unprotected sex, penatration (p in v), fluffy ending.
Summary: you borrowed a book from Loki's personal library, and weren't prepared for the consequences.....
A/n-graphics by @harlequin-hangout. This story inspired by my dear @mochie85 and her amazing story "Pheromones". Thank you so much my dear for all your help and support!! This story absolutely got away from me, it's definitely longer so be prepared 💚💚
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You walked into Loki's room, slowly closing the door behind you making your way to his overly large book case. He had been away on a mission for the last week, but told you to feel free to borrow whatever you wished. Carefully putting back the ones you had borrowed you browsed his large collection. Running your fingers along the spines you couldn't help smile, knowing you were one of the only ones, if not the only one allowed in his room, let alone allowed to borrow his books.
Over the last year you had grown close to the God, being born with powers you didn't understand, let alone control had made your life burdensome. You didn't have many friends, your family had basically disowned you, dropping you at an orphanage. Apparently you were too unpredictable for them to handle. But Loki had taken you under his wing, helped you understand your abilities, even training you to control them. On more then one occasion telling you how proud he was of you....calling you his "little witch" making your heart flutter.
You wandered over to his personal books, ones he had been able to save and being back with him when they had to leave Asgard and come to earth. You pulled out one of the larger volumes, Your fingers running over the golden runes inscribed on the cover. Tucking it under your arm remembering you could translate it with your phone you walked back towards the door, glancing around seeing his daggers displayed on the wall, his desk neatly organized not a thing out of place. A warm feeling running over you picturing him laying on the couch reading...sitting at the desk writing some long letter, his long slender fingers wrapped around his pen.
A shudder running through you thinking about those fingers gliding aross your skin, gently wrapping around your throat as he took what he wanted from you, claiming you for his. You shook the images out of your head remembering he was your friend, your mentor, your teacher. He would never see you as you saw him. Sighing you hugged the book to your chest, grabbing the knob turning the lights off as you closed his door, smiling as you made your way back to your room excited to see what knowledge the book contained.
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"AGAIN!" Loki yelled, throwing another green blast at you, deflecting it just in time as another came out of nowhere knocking you off your feet. You laid on your back trying to catch your breath when he came over looking down at you "have you not kept up your training in my absence?" He asked crossing his arms "y...yes...i...have." You panted grabbing your chest "then you would not be so easy to defeat. On your feet, we are going again." He said sternly walking out of your vision. You sat up watching him walk to the other side of the room, he looked powerful, regal, you would give him the world if you could. "I said up...now!" He yelled making you jump.
You got to your feet, bringing your hands up holding them out emitting a purple glow, watching his glow green. "This time you shall have no warning, you must react on instinct y/n." He said as you nodded, planting your feet in a defensive stance, watching him slowly stalk around you. Your anxiety rose as your eyes followed him, traveling between his hands and his face seeing him smirk. You saw something in your peripheral, turning slightly to see what it was you were hit in the chest hard by Loki's seidr, once again landing on your back. "Y/n where are you? You are not focusing!" He yelled as you sat up rubbing your chest.
"Loki, I'm only....ow human. What do you...." you were cut off as he drug you up to your feet, gripping your shoulders "you are not merely human y/n, your are...more." He said clenching his jaw "and I expect more from you then what you are giving me." He snapped as you looked to the floor "i..I'm sorry, it's just.." you started "don't be sorry, be better. How am i to be sure you will be alright out there hmm?" He asked as you looked back up at him, the green of his eyes seeming to glow "how will I know...." he started, feeling his thumb rubbing your arm, his eyes shooting to your lips and back. "Loki..." you whispered when he dropped his hands "I expect better next session." He said storming towards the door, leaving you alone with your wounded pride.
You made it back to your room, the look of disappointment on Loki's face was burned into your mind as you walked to the bathroom. You knew when he came back from missions he was like this. Harder, firmer, more demanding, but it didn't hurt any less seeing that look. "I'll never be good enough." You sighed, turning the shower on you slipped your training clothes off, throwing them in the corner as you stepped into the shower, the hot water making you wince as it hit your sore muscles. You wanted to be better, to impress him but it seemed to be a losing battle. You sighed, wrapping a towel around you you walked into your bedroom. Putting on a tank top and some sleep shorts you walked into the living room.
Flopping down on the couch you saw Loki's book on the coffee table. You hadn't had a chance to look at it yet with everything that had been going on, but now would be as good a time as any. You got up, grabbing your phone and a piece of paper and pen you sat back down, opening the book to a random page seeing the runes running along one side, a picture of a heart engulphed in flames on the other. You slid to the floor, opening your phone you went down the page finding the word for each rune writing down the translation, smiling as you reached the end. "Ok, now let's see what your saying." You said to yourself leaning back.
Hearts Desire
Suns shine, and moons shimmer,
Love and passion meet in shadow,
The fire burns, the flames grow higher,
The body yearns, the hunger grows,
Only sated by your hearts desire...
As you recited the last line you saw the book begin to glow on the table, the runes shimmering with a gold light on the page before suddenly stopping. "What the..." you said to yourself, running your fingers across the page feeling a shock in your fingers making you pull your hand back. "Ooook, I think that's enough reading for tonight." You said, carefully closing the book you put you phone down as you stood up feeling light headed. "Time for bed." You said Turning the lights off you climbed under the covers. Knowing you had another training session with Loki tomorrow you closed your eyes, willing sleep to take you.
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You rolled over, groaning as the blankets stuck to your damp skin. Looking at the clock seeing it was just past midnight you sighed. You put your hand on your forehead wiping the sweat away "why is it so hot in here?" You breathed, throwing the covers off you went to stand feeling your knees try to buckle. "I better not be getting sick" you said to yourself slowly making your way to the thermostat seeing it was still set at a cool sixty degrees. "What the hell." You turned on the ac, going back to bed you layed down, the cool sheets making you sigh as you closed your eyes trying to go back to sleep.
Images flashed in your mind. Long dark hair...deep green eyes that seemed to penatrate your soul...long fingers running up your thighs, moving up to slowly caress your clit..."Come to me darling...I need you." You heard furrowing your eyebrows feeling the fingers slide down towards your entrance. "Come....now!" The voice growled as the fingers pushed inside you waking you with a gasp. You shot up, looking around into the dark room seeing you were alone "Holy hell." You panted rubbing your eyes. You scooted forward feeling the wetness between your legs, your body covered in a sheen of sweat "maybe a shower will help." You sighed, scooting off the bed, the friction of your shorts against your core making moan as you braced the wall. "That must have been some dream." You thought making your way to the bathroom.
You turned on the cold water, stepping inside you let out a deep breath. You felt like your were burning from the inside out. You closed your eyes standing under the spray when the images returned. You hand slowly sliding down between your thighs, opening yourself up as you saw Loki...standing before you In nothing but his leather pants, slowly stalking towards you with a hunger in his eyes "come to me pet...I must have you." He purred, reaching out his large hand he wrapped it around your throat, his eyes boring into you. You worked your fingers through your folds, circling your clit feeling a shiver run through you as he leaned down, feeling his breath on your neck "I will give you pleasure as you have never known...all you must do is...come." He said sternly.
"L..loki..." you moaned, feeling your orgasm wash over you, pressing your thighs together at the feeling. You opened your eyes seeing the white tile wall "god...if only." You panted. You finished washing up, wrapping a towel around you you grabbed another tank top and clean shorts you sat on the bed, the pressure on your core making you moan. "What is happening?" You said to yourself shaking your head. You had dreamt of Loki before...numerous times but usually a little self care would sate your lust until the next dream, but now it only seemed to make things worse. You slipped your clothes on, feeling your body begin to heat up again, worse then before. "A...am I dying?" You said to yourself, gripping the side of the bed goaning as another wave of pleasure rolled over you.
Your eyes shot open remembering the book, the letters glowing as you read from it. "Oh shit...I cursed myself." You said rubbing your temples feeling sweat beading on your skin. "L...loki! I need to talk to loki, he'll...ahhh...know what to do." You moaned, slowly standing up feeling another wave push through you. Looking over seeing it was past two in the morning. "Well, I hope he's awake." You sighed, making your way to the door, nails digging into the handle as a another wave washed over you, your core feeling like it's om fire "I....ahh....better hurry." You moaned, quickly making your way to the elevator you pressed the button hard as the next wave hit you making you knees buckle. "Aahh fuck.." you moaned gripping the wall.
You made it to his floor, slowly walking out of the elevator you braced yourself on the wall, another hit you hard bringing you to your knees. "Holy shit..." you panted, standing up you felt the wetness between your thighs soaking your shorts. "L..loki..." you moaned making it to his door. You pressed your forehead to it, sighing as the cold wood met your hot skin. "Loki..." you breathed, knocking to be met with silence. Your thighs clenched together as you tried to knock again, still not getting a response you gripped the handle, turning it finding it unlocked. "Oh thank God." You sighed slowly pushing the door open.
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You stepped inside, quietly closing the door looking around the dark room. Your body shivered as the scent of pine and sandalwood washed over you. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts "Lo..." you started, wincing feeling the skin under your ear burn, putting your hand over it feeling your skin hot to the touch. "Fuck.." you whispered looking back across the room, seeing the bedroom door slightly ajar. You walked towards it, you mind getting hazier the closer you got. "L..loki..." you whispered, slowly pushing the door open, the moonlight streaming through the window giving the room a soft glow when your eyes met his sleeping form, biting your lip seeing the sheet pooled around his hips, revealing his bare chest.
You opened your mouth trying to say his name, a moan coming out in its place as you gripped the door knob, leaning over as your head swam. Squeezing your thighs together you stood up, your vision hazy as you walked towards the bed, slowly making your way across the bed, running your fingers along the soft sheets looking down at him. You stood at the side of the large bed, his long hair splayed across the pillow making your hand twitch, you needed to touch it...now. You leaned down, slowly sliding back the sheets hearing him groan lightly as you climbed in next to him, carefully scooting towards him pressing your front to his side hearing him sigh.
You leaned up on your elbow, reaching your hand up you gently moved his hair exposing his long neck, smiling seeing a small freckle under his ear. You leaned down pressing a gentle kiss to it, his skin warm on your lips hearing him groan. You continued peppering small kisses to his neck as your hand slowly slid across his stomach, moaning as your fingers found the light patch of hair that traveled down. flattening your palm your hand slid down, feeling his muscles tense as your fingers grazed his adonis belt. "Loki.." you whispered against his skin as you went lower, your fingers running through the tuft of hair just above what you wanted most. "Y/n.." he moaned softly, freezing hearing him say your name, looking up seeing his eyes still closed.
Was he dreaming about you..you thought as your lips pressed back to his skin feeling his head turn slightly. Your pressed your thigh over his as your hand found what it was searching for, smiling feeling him hard as you slowly wrapped your fingers around him, groaning as you realized you couldn't get them all the way around him. "Mmm..god..." you moaned into his neck as you slowly moved your hand up and down, stoking him as you teeth grazed his skin. You groaned feeling him twitch in your hand as his hips rocked upwards meeting your strokes. "Mmm... I need you so bad." You whispered into his ear hearing his breath hitch.
You slowly rocked your hips against his thigh in rhythm with your hand. Tightening your grip you stoked him harder, your lips traveling to his collar bone as you squeezed your thigh against him, the friction on your clit sending electricity through you. "Y...y/n..." he groaned as your teeth grazed his collar bone. "Loki..." you breathed into his skin feeling him stiffen "w...what are you...ahhh...." he hissed grabbing your wrist stopping your movements. You looked up at him, his eyes wide as he stared at you "i...I need to feel you." You panted, releasing your grip on him you threw your leg over him, straddling his hips.
"Wait...y/n..." he trailed off trying to grab your hands as you tried to shift the sheet off of him. "P..please loki i...i need you." You panted, lifting your hips trying to get the sheet out from under you. "Y/n...stop this at once." He demanded as you looked into his eyes, a shudder running through you "i..I cant.." you whispered, leaning back you reached for the sheets again "Y/n...wait..." he said as you felt another wave slam into you, bracing yourself on his chest you rocked your hips against his erection, moaning at the friction when he suddenly bucked his hips, flipping you onto your back as he settled over you, pinning your wrists above your head in one large hand. He took in your appearance, seeing the sweat beading on your skin, your skin like fire under his hands. "What are you doing y/n?" He asked sternly as you dug your nails into your palm "i..need you." You whispered.
"You are not yourself, What did you do?" Loki asked sternly eyeing you. "Nothing! I just....please...." you pleaded, bringing your hips up as he pushed them back down with his other hand. "Y/n, I will not ask again, what..." he started as his eyes went to your neck, reaching up he grabbed your chin turning your head "all I did was borrow a few books while you were gone." You said shakely, feeling sweat pooling on your skin as his eyes met yours again "which books?" He asked still gripping your chin. "I..I don't know i..." you started "Dammit woman, which ones did you take?" He yelled making you shiver "i..I don't know the title...I just t..translated a page." You said shakely feeling your eyes burn. "P..please loki...I feel like I'm dying." You said feeling a tear escape your eye, traveling to your hair as he turned your head back.
He released your chin, his fingers ghosted over the skin of your neck, moaning when he touched where it burned the most, your thighs gripping his sides feeling another wave of arousal wash over you, your walls clenching around nothing. "Hearts desire..." he whispered splaying his large hand against your neck. "It appears you borrowed one of my spell books and...enchanted yourself." He said as his eyes met yours again. "A..m i...am I dying?" You whimpered feeling another tear fall as he wiped it away with his thumb "no my dear, you are not dying, not yet anyway" He said "but, your condition will worsen until you body becomes too hot and starts to shut down." He said feeling your forehead "how long ago did this happen?" He asked "a..a few hours or so." You said as he nodded. "H..how do I make it s..stop?" You asked shakely as he looked down "the only way to cure Hearts Desire is to become one with the one you...love." he whispered as your eyes widened.
A sob escaped you as he released your hands, leaning back slightly watching you "i...im s...sorry loki, I...I didn't want you to find out like this, or ever. i..." you cried, covering your face with your hands "I'm s...sorry." you said again as you shifted, trying to get out from under him when he grabbed your hips. "Where are you going?" He asked making you look at him "i...I've ruined everything with my stupidity and...." you rambled, feeling his finger prsss to your lips, it taking all your will power not to wrap your lips around it. "You need to calm down darling, your getting warmer." He said shifting closer to you "did you not hear me, your condition will worsen." He said sternly "i am going to help you." He said cupping your cheek "n..no! You don't have to do that, i..I'll just..." you trailed off "pleasure yourself? It will only make it worse." He said, gripping the sheets as you felt another roll through you, your nerve endings igniting making you whimper.
"Those sounds...you have no idea what you do to me my little witch." He groaned, pressing his hips to yours, feeling his erection rub against your clit "g..god....loki...." you moaned wrapping your arms around his back. "Let me take care of you." He whispered, leaning down pressing a kiss to your neck making your hips jerk. "I can smell you..." he groaned, rocking his hips into you as he leaned back, hooking his fingers under the band of your shorts, slowly sliding them down your legs "no panties hmm?" He purred, tossing them across the room. "I...they were dirty." You stuttered as he lowered himself back between your spread legs. "Oh, im sure they were my little vixen." He smiled, leaning down pressing a kiss to your collar bone.
You moaned feeling his hand slide up your thigh, slipping between you as his teeth grazed the top of your breast "mmm....you are soaking darling." He said, his long fingers gliding through your folds making you arch up into him. "P...please Loki...." you panted, screwing your eyes shut. You felt him shift, pulling the sheet from between you as his cock pressing into your thigh, precum smearing across your skin as he lined himself at your entrance "open those eyes for me, I want to see you as I take you." He growled. You opened your eyes, looking down seeing his cock begin to push into you. "Look at me." He said, as your eyes shot up to his "så vakker.." he whispered, pressing his hips forward, your nails digging into his back as he inched inside you, stretching you to your limit.
"Norns! Your so...warm, so...aahhh tight." He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as he jerked his hips forward, knocking the wind out of you as he bottomed out. "Holy...fuck..." you panted, spreading your legs further apart as he pulled out to his tip, thrusting back in. You felt your body tingle as he slowly rocked in and out, keeping his pace slow. "L..loki....harder....fuck me....harder." you growled, sliding your hands down to his ass pulling him into you. "A...as you...mmm...wish." He growled, pulling out as he slammed into you, jolting you up the bed "oh fuck...yes..." you yelled, burying your face in his neck biting the skin under his ear hearing him growl.
"F...fuck....I can feel you...ahh squeezing me darling." He panted, snapping his hips hard, his pelvic bone hitting your clit with each thrust making your cry out. "I..I'm gonna..." you breathed, digging your nails into his cheeks as he pushed you up the bed. "Mm...min lille heks...ahhh...hvor jeg har lengtet etter deg." He said, slipping into his native tongue making you shudder. "kom for meg ... melk kuken min." He growled, slamming into you hard, your head hitting the headboard as your orgasm flooded over you, your walls clenching hard around him "c..come with me loki...fuck...let me feel you." You panted, feeling him twitch inside you as his hips met yours, holding himself in you as he spilled deep inside you. "Fuck...y/n J...Jeg elsker deg." He panted, dropping his head to your shoulder, his warm breath fanning against your skin.
He slowly pulled out, shifting to lay next to you as you stared at the ceiling. You pulled the sheet up covering yourself feeling your skin start to cool off, your mind clearing as you glanced over, seeing his eyes closed. You looked back to the ceiling, a knot forming in your stomach as you thought about what just happened. "Your thinking too loudly." He said making you look over at him, your eyes meeting his. "Im...I'm sorry Loki, about all of this." You said, pulling the sheet back starting to get up when you felt his hand on your shoulder pushing you back down as he leaned up on his elbow looking down at you
He reached up feeling your forehead smiling "how are you feeling my dear?" He asked tucking your hair behind your ear "b..better." you said looking down. "Is it true?" He asked, his eyes staring into you "umm..i...well you see..." you tried, looking back to the ceiling, feeling his fingers genlty grab your chin making you look at him. "Yes loki, it's true." You said gripping the sheet. He leaned down gently pressing his lips to yours, his tongue slowly sliding across your bottom lip. A warmth filled you, your toes curling feeling his tongue gently pass your lips, cupping your cheek as his tongue tangled with yours, his lips impossibly soft against your own as he claimed your mouth, biting your lip as he pulled back looking at. "Be mine y/n." He breathed, pressing his forehead to yours "i..what?" You asked tilting your head up "I have wanted you for so long, i would like to court you." He said smiling "y..yes Loki, I would like that very much." You smiled back as he pulled you towards him, laying on his back guiding your head to his shoulder "get some rest my dear, we can talk more tomorrow." He said running his fingers through your hair as you wrapped your arm around his middle "and y/n...no more books." He said making you laugh "ok, no more books." You agreed, closing your eyes slipping off to sleep listening to the steady beat of his heart....
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Translations-
hvor jeg har lengtet etter deg-how i have longed for you
min lille heks-my little witch
Jeg elsker deg-i love you
kom for meg ... melk kuken min-come for me...milk my cock
så vakker-so beautiful
@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @springdandelixn @kinky-faerie @xorpsbane @midnights-ramblings @simping-for-marvel @holdmytesseract @kkdvkyya @slpnbty2001 @lokixryss @vane28282 @violethaze @coldnique @aniar4wniak @nate-ate-hate @buttercupcookies-blog @brattymum96 @dukes2581 @your-taste-on-my-lips @mybaby @blog-the-lilly @irishhappiness @sinsandguilt @filthyhiddles @lovebyloki @kikster606 @javagirl328 @misunderstoodself @highkeysimpingforloki @eleniblue @commanding-officer @athalialaufeyson @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokiandbuckysdoll @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @high-functioning-lokipath @kittiowolf210 @slytherclaw1227 @joyfullymassivewhispers @wolfsmom1 @libbybeaz @lokikissesmyforehead @goblingirlsarah @thomase1
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super-marvel-dc · 2 months
Text
*Barry, and Y/N talking*
Pietro: *Runs up to Y/N and puts his arm around them* sup.
Y/N. *Stares at Pietro in shock and confusion* Pietro? What are you doing here?
Barry, slightly jealous: You know him?
Y/N, to Barry: Yeah... He's my ex... *Laughs awkwardly, and shrugs Pietro's arm off their shoulders*
Pietro, joking: Ouch, I thought you still loved me!
Barry, to Pietro: Sorry, buddy, but they're with me now.
Y/N: *Backs away slowly* I'm gonna go shopping, you guys have fun, uh, talking...
Y/N: *Bumps into someone* oh my gosh! I'm so sorry-
Y/N: Uh oh...
Loki, grinning: Hello, love.
Pietro, and Barry: Who's that?!
Y/N: Ehe, my ex... husband...
Pietro, and Barry: You were married?!
Loki: To a god.
Y/N, to Loki: You're not helping the situation.
Selina, walking towards Y/N: Y/N, is that you?
Pietro, Barry, and Loki: *Slowly turns to look at Y/N*
Y/N: I can explain...
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vbecker10 · 3 days
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Coffee Coffee Coffee
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Your over protective boyfriend, Loki, finds out you haven't eaten anything today and he's not happy about it but in your defense, you did have coffee.
A/N: I didn't even have coffee today so it's weird that this is in my brain lol... enjoy 💚
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A series of knocks pulls your attention from the email you are typing and you check the clock in the corner of the screen. There's only one person who could be looking for you this late, the rest of your team went home a little over an hour ago.
You rub your eyes and get up from your desk, "Come in, Loki."
The door opens and the God of Mischief enters, "Hello darling." He meets you in the middle of your office and pulls you into a tight hug.
You reach up and kiss his lips lightly, pulling away much too soon for Loki's liking. He smirks, "Well now that won't do."
"No?" you ask with a smile.
He shakes his head no. You reach up again and as he leans to me you, you change direction slightly so you kiss his cheek. A giggle escapes you as Loki's hands move down to your hips and he pulls you flush against his body. His left hand raises to your cheek and he tilts your head up gently, then he presses his lips firmly to yours. His hand grips your hip tighter and you give into his kiss.
"I'm still working," you tell him breathlessly when your lips finally leave his.
"You work too hard," he tells you as he lets go of you.
He walks towards one of the empty chairs facing you desk and takes a seat. You move past him to sit behind you desk but he gently catches your wrist. Pulling lightly, he brings you towards him and lifts you onto his lap so you are facing him.
"I missed you today," he tells you in a low voice, his hands settle on your lower back.
"I missed you too, I'm sorry I had to cancel our lunch. Today has been awful," you wave towards your desk which is stacked high with files.
"Will you be much longer?" he asks, tucking a piece of hair behind you ear.
You shrug, "Hopefully only another hour. I just need to finish-". Your stomach rumbles, cutting into your sentence and you cringe when you can see in his eyes that he heard it.
"Did you eat anything today?" he asks in response to the sound.
"I had coffee," you answer quickly and immediately know that was the wrong answer.
His fingers drum rhythmically on your hip and he asks, "Did you at least drink any water?"
"Yea a little," you nod but he raises his eyebrow skeptically. "I mean, there's water in coffee."
He groans, his hand raising to cover his eyes. You hold back a giggle, knowing it won't help your situation. "Why are you like this?" he asks in a half joking tone.
You smile wide and shrug, "I like coffee."
"I can see that darling," he says, shaking his head lightly to hide a smile. "Dare I ask how many cups you've had today?"
You pretend to think for a moment then begin to count on your fingers, "One, two, three, four, five-"
"Y/N," he stops you.
"Only two," you answer.
"Are you sure?" he asks in a tone that means he clearly does not believe you.
You look away from his gaze but he touches your chin and guides your eyes back to his. "Four... but they were hours apart," you tell him honestly.
He shakes his head, "Love, you can't survive on coffee alone."
"That's literally how I made it through college," you inform him and cross your arms against your chest.
Without another word, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down so he can get up. "What-" you start to ask but he takes your hand and begins to move towards the door. "Where are we going? I still have work to do," you tell him.
"We're going to get dinner," he says as he opens the door.
You suddenly realize how hungry you are and follow him out into the hallway. "Ooh, can we get dessert too?" you ask with a smile.
He nods, "Of course, darling."
"And coffee?" you ask half joking.
"I think you've had enough coffee for the week," he answers as he pushes the button for the elevator.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚
@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods
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kaynothanks · 2 months
Text
The Bargain Store
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Pairing: Loki x goddess!reader
Summary: You, a goddess hiding on Earth, encounter Loki, who eons ago vowed to kill you. Loki never was one to keep his word.
Warnings: (18+ mdni) loki, what else? the smut just happened, i don’t even know how (yes, I do), oral (f receiving), loki has ulterior motives, mention of blood (lip), unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering
Word-Count: 6.5 k
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Nobody suspected anything. Never had. For the past few decades, you had been the owner of your little shop, after spending many centuries on the run.
Throughout centuries, there had been wars and revolutions, plagues and remedies. You had stood witness to them all. Watched from the distance as civilizations went into ruin and new ones emerged. You had made sure not to get too involved. It wasn’t your place; not your planet and not your people. Still, you had been on earth for a big part of your lifespan. In your world, you weren’t anything special, a sheep in a broad herd. And you had had enough of it. So, you had left. Ran from your responsibilities, bid no goodbyes and settled for something less.
Centuries had woven themselves into the very fabric of your being, each era a thread in the intricate tapestry of your existence. You had been many things: a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the twilight, a force as ancient and unyielding as the stars themselves. Yet, for the last few decades, you had chosen a far simpler, more unassuming role—a shopkeeper, tending to a quaint little establishment nestled on a serene street, far removed from the cacophony of the bustling city that surrounded it.
Your shop was a sanctuary, not just for you, but for all who sought refuge within its walls. From the outside, it appeared no different from any other boutique that dealt in herbs, teas, and the occasional curious trinket. However, its essence was imbued with something far more ancient, a magic that hummed quietly beneath the surface, perceptible only to those who truly believed or those who, like you, were of another world entirely.
This little shop was your haven, a place where you could be both less and more than what you were. Here, you were not the goddess who had danced among the stars, who had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, who had fled from a war that threatened to consume her very soul. Here, you were simply the keeper of secrets, of remedies both mundane and magical, offering solace to the weary and the lost.
Your reasons for choosing this existence were manifold, but at their core lay a desire for peace, for a semblance of normalcy in a life that had been anything but. You had grown weary of the endless conflicts that had defined your existence, of the power struggles that had torn apart realms and ravaged worlds. Earth, with all its simplicity and complexity, offered a respite, a place where you could hide in plain sight among its inhabitants, who remained blissfully unaware of the greater cosmos that swirled around them.
The shop became a reflection of your desire for tranquility. Its walls were lined with shelves laden with jars and bottles, each containing herbs and potions that held whispers of your old world. You delighted in the mundane tasks of tending to your plants, mixing herbs, and brewing teas, finding a sense of purpose in the healing and comfort your creations provided. Your customers, none the wiser to the true nature of your being, were drawn to your shop by an inexplicable pull, leaving with remedies for their ailments and, sometimes, a lighter heart.
For years, this life had been enough. You had convinced yourself that you could forget, that you could move beyond the past and forge a new existence among the humans you had come to cherish. But the past, as it often does, refused to remain buried. It came for you on an unremarkable day, shattering the peace you had so carefully built with the ringing of the shop's bell and the entrance of a figure from a life you had tried to leave behind.
Loki's arrival was a storm on the horizon, a harbinger of chaos that threatened to upend the world you had created. The God of Mischief, with his piercing gaze and sly grin, embodied everything you had fled from: the power, the destruction, the endless machinations of gods and men. His presence in your shop, a place that had been untouched by the affairs of gods for so long, was a stark reminder that one could never truly escape their nature or their past.
The last time you had seen Loki, it was on the battlefield. You had been on opposing sides, and his last words to you were a vow of death. Yet, here he stood, looking around your shop with a curious gleam in his eyes, not having recognized you yet. Or had he? With Loki, one could never be too sure. You steadied yourself, the mask of the shopkeeper sliding effortlessly into place. "Can I help you find anything?" Your voice was calm, betraying none of the turmoil inside.
Loki turned his attention to you, his green eyes piercing. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "I'm looking for something unique," he declared, the silk of his voice wrapping around you like a familiar shroud. His steps were measured as he approached, the predator within barely leashed. "A gift for someone who values... rare items."
You couldn't help but wonder who Loki would consider worthy of a gift. Your curiosity, however, was a dangerous thing, especially around him. "I have a few rare herbs and special tea blends. If you're looking for something more unique, perhaps a potion or two? Depending on what you wish to achieve." You kept your tone neutral, professional.
It was a game of cat and mouse, and you both knew it. Loki's lips twitched into a smile, and he moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "And what would you recommend for someone seeking... forgiveness?"
The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, the mask slipped. Loki was asking for forgiveness? From whom? The thought that it might be you crossed your mind, but you dismissed it just as quickly. "Forgiveness is not easily obtained by potions alone. It requires sincerity and action. But," you paused, turning to fetch a small, unassuming bottle from a shelf behind you, "this may aid in opening the heart to forgiveness, making it more receptive."
He took the bottle, examining it with a thoughtful expression. "And what do you seek, shopkeeper? What would you have me pay for this aid?"
"Peace," the word slipped out before you could stop it. It was the truth, however. Peace was all you had sought by coming to Earth, peace from your past, from the endless battles and politics of gods.
"A tall order," Loki mused, placing the bottle down and stepping closer, invading your personal space. "But perhaps not impossible."
The tension between you was palpable, a dance of curiosity, old grudges, and unspoken questions. "Why are you here, Loki?" you dared to ask, needing to know his purpose. Your heart raced, not just from surprise but from a resurgence of a darker thrill you thought you had buried deep within. The life you had led before, filled with power plays and destruction, beckoned with a seductive finger through Loki's emerald gaze. As Loki dared to step closer, crossing the invisible boundary you had mentally drawn around yourself, a surge of defiance ignited within you. Your heart raced, not solely with fear but with the resurgence of a power you had long kept dormant. With a thought as sharp as a whispered incantation, you summoned a dagger into existence. It materialized in your hand, its golden blade gleaming with a light that spoke of ancient magics and forgotten realms. This was no mere weapon but a relic of your divine heritage, a testament to the might you once wielded freely.
You didn't hesitate. The years had taught you caution, yes, but they had also honed your instincts, sharpened them into lethal points. As Loki advanced, a smile playing on his lips as if he were merely a predator toying with his prey, you struck. The movement was fluid, a dance you had performed countless times across the battlegrounds of the stars. The blade sliced through the air, aimed with deadly precision at the figure before you.
But the strike met no resistance. Instead, the dagger sliced through the illusion, the projection of Loki dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind only the faintest traces of his magic in the air. It was a trick, a mere sleight of hand from the God of Mischief, and you had fallen for it. A cold realization washed over you, a reminder of Loki's cunning, of the depths of his power which, it seemed, had only grown over the years.
Before you could recover, before you could even curse your own folly, arms enveloped you from behind. It was an embrace as familiar as it was unexpected, one that spoke of countless lifetimes and entwined destinies. His hand snaked around your waist, securing you against him with an intimacy that belied the years of separation and the shadow of past betrayals. The other hand, firm and unyielding, gripped hold of your wrist, effortlessly disarming you of the dagger you had conjured. Its golden light flickered and died, leaving you exposed, vulnerable in a way that went beyond the physical.
Loki's breath was warm against your neck, his presence a cloak of inevitability you found yourself powerless to resist. "How I have missed you, darling," he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin, a mix of threat and endearment. In that moment, with Loki's arms around you and his voice weaving spells of its own, you were transported back across the aeons, to a time when love and war were intermingled, and your fate was inseparably tied to the whims of gods.
The realization that the figure you had attacked was but a projection, a mere echo of Loki's true self, sank in with a weight that was almost suffocating. It was a reminder of his mastery over illusions, over the realities he could weave with a mere thought. Yet, the arms that held you, the breath that teased the hairs at the nape of your neck, they were undeniably real. This was no illusion but the god himself, in flesh and blood, as tangible as the tumultuous history you shared.
The conflict within you, a storm of emotions and memories, raged with renewed intensity. Loki's proximity, his touch, it reignited flames you thought had long since turned to ash. But this was not the time for reminiscences, for getting lost in what had been. The immediate truth was that Loki, the very being who had once vowed your destruction, now held you within his grasp, not as an enemy, but with a possessiveness that spoke of deeper, more complex intentions.
As his hand released your wrist, letting the vanished dagger be forgotten, you were left to grapple with the reality of his return. His words, laden with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher, echoed in the silence that followed. Was it a declaration, a manipulation, or something in between? With Loki, the lines were always blurred, the truth as shifting as the sands of time. The shop around you, once a sanctuary of peace, now felt like a stage set for a confrontation centuries in the making. The tranquility you had so carefully cultivated was shattered, replaced by the crackling energy of a storm about to break. Loki's presence, both familiar and foreboding, promised nothing and everything, a paradox that was his very essence.
Still ensnared in Loki's unexpected embrace, his words lingering in the air between you, a whirlwind of emotions battled within you. Anger, betrayal, and a flicker of something dangerously akin to longing. His presence, his closeness, was overwhelming, yet you found the clarity to make a choice. You would play his game, match his deceit with your own cunning, even as thoughts of vengeance danced just beneath the surface of your composed exterior.
Turning your head to face him, you allowed the moment to stretch, to teeter on the edge of something neither of you could fully grasp. Your lips hovered so close to his, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, a tantalizing promise of what could be. "Have you now, my love?" The words slipped from your lips, laced with a venom sweetened by the honeyed guise of affection. It was a challenge, a provocation, delivered with the precision of one who knew just how to stir the god of mischief.
Loki responded not with words, but with action. He hummed, a sound that vibrated with a multitude of unspoken thoughts and desires, before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It was a bold move, one that sought to bridge centuries of separation and silence with the intimacy of a moment. The kiss was a fusion of past and present, a clash of wills and desires, as complex and enigmatic as Loki himself.
Yet, as his lips moved against yours, a part of you recoiled, a reminder of the chasm that lay between what was and what could never be. With a resolve as cold and sharp as a blade, your hand found its way into the silk of his dark locks. You allowed yourself a brief second, a heartbeat, to feel the warmth of him, to breathe in the scent that was undeniably Loki, before your fingers curled into a fist, gripping tightly.
With a swift, decisive motion, you pulled him away, breaking the kiss, severing the illusion of reconciliation and intimacy. "I don't believe you for a second," you hissed, the words dark and laden with all the unspoken truths and lies that had accumulated over the years. It was a declaration of war as much as it was a rejection, a line drawn in the sand that marked the boundary between past affections and present distrust.
Loki, taken aback by the suddenness of your rejection, the intensity of your grip, could only stare, the mask of charm and seduction slipping to reveal a glimpse of the genuine surprise and, perhaps, a flicker of a bruised ego beneath his mask. The god of mischief, so accustomed to being the orchestrator of deceit, found himself momentarily at a loss, caught in the web of his own making. The air between you crackled with tension, charged with the electricity of a storm on the horizon. In that moment, with the remnants of the kiss still lingering like a phantom touch upon your lips, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare. It was a tapestry woven with threads of love and hatred, betrayal and longing, each stitch a testament to the turbulent history you shared.
Your defiance, your refusal to succumb to the seduction of a momentary weakness, set the stage for what was to come. It was a declaration that you were no longer the deity who had fled, who had sought refuge in the shadows of anonymity. You were a force to be reckoned with, a player in the game of gods, and Loki would do well to remember that.
Loki's response to your defiance was as swift as it was unpredictable. His initial surprise at your resistance melted away into that all-too-familiar grin, a mischievous curve of his lips that had always heralded trouble. The atmosphere shifted palpably, charged with a tension that was as much about power as it was about the unresolved history simmering between you. He advanced, the godly aura that clung to him making the air around you thrum with energy. His approach was deliberate, each step calculated to intimidate and enthrall in equal measure. You found yourself retreating until the solid form of the front desk halted your escape, the mundane reality of your shop a stark contrast to the unfolding drama.
Loki's fingers, cool and assertive, found the hem of your clothes, tugging with a playful yet disapproving frown. "I must confess, I find myself at odds with your choice of attire," he remarked, his voice a low purr that vibrated with an undercurrent of something darker. "These... mundane garments do not suit you. I miss the dresses of old, the ones that whispered secrets against your skin, the ones I could remove with but a thought." His words were a deliberate provocation, designed to unnerve and reminisce a past intimacy that had once been.
Before you could muster a retort or push him away, he lifted you with an ease that spoke of his godly strength, sitting you atop the counter with a possessive certainty. The action was bold, an invasion of personal space that he seemed to relish, watching for your reaction, gauging how far he could push before you snapped. His behavior, this blend of familiarity and threat, placed you at a crossroads. Part of you, the part hardened by centuries of hiding and surviving, screamed for caution, for you to summon your powers and push him away, to reinforce the boundaries he so blatantly disregarded. Yet, another part, perhaps the part that had once known him more intimately, that remembered the complexity of his character, urged you to wait, to use this proximity to your advantage.
The realization dawned on you then, amid the tension and the charged air, that Loki's tactics had shifted because he needed something from you. His words, his actions, were part of a larger game, one that involved merely his goal, and by extension, you. It was a game of manipulation, of old affections twisted into new strategies, but it was also a game you could play.
"So, you miss the past," you found yourself saying, voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. Your eyes locked with his, a challenge laid bare. "But the past is a realm even you cannot return to, Loki. We are not who we once were, and desires... desires can be as fleeting as they are dangerous." It was a gamble, invoking both your shared history and the undeniable tension of the present. You sought to remind him that you were not the same deity he had once known, that you had grown and changed, just as he had. In this dance of words and wills, you were not just the prey he might have assumed you to be; you were a player in your own right, with your own cards yet to be revealed.
The next move was his, and the air between you crackled with the anticipation of it.
Loki's gaze, a maelstrom of green, held yours with an intensity that bordered on the palpable, each flicker of emotion a testament to the centuries that had shaped him. His response, when it came, was threaded with the weight of ages and the depth of a god's desires.
"My yearning for you," he began, his voice a low thrum that seemed to echo with the gravitas of eons passed, "has never been of the fleeting kind. It is as enduring as the stars that light our skies, as unyielding as the fabric of reality itself. To suggest otherwise is to misunderstand the very nature of my being."
With these words, he sank to his knees before you, an act so filled with symbolic surrender and yet charged with an undercurrent of strategy. In this position, Loki, the god of mischief, the architect of chaos, positioned himself in a posture of fealty—or so it seemed. Yet, you knew better than to take the gesture at face value. Loki was many things, but straightforward was not one of them. Every action, every word, was laced with layers of meaning, designed to manipulate and coax the desired response from those he engaged with.
His move was bold, a calculated risk meant to disarm and perhaps to remind you of the dynamics that had once defined your interactions. It was an acknowledgment of your power, your importance in this intricate game he was playing. Yet, it was also unmistakably a ploy, a way to close the distance between you, to weave a narrative of shared history and unresolved tension.
The air around you seemed charged, thick with the history and the palpable tension of the moment. Loki, on his knees, looking up at you with an intensity that spoke of genuine desire mixed with the ever-present calculation, presented a picture of vulnerability. Yet, you were not so easily swayed. You knew the depths of his cunning, the lengths he would go to achieve his ends. His admission, cloaked in the grandiosity of his age and station, left you with a choice. To engage, to allow yourself to be drawn back into the orbit of his world, his plans, or to hold firm, to remember the reasons for your distance, for the life you had chosen away from the machinations of gods and their games.
The moment stretched, a tableau of tension and possibility, as you weighed your response, acutely aware of the stakes, of the game that was afoot, and of Loki, who knelt before you, a god cloaked in the guise of a supplicant, yet undeniably dangerous, undeniably compelling.
As Loki knelt before you, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken words, you made a decision. Lifting your leg, the black of your heeled shoes catching the light and glinting ominously, you pushed against his shoulder. It was a gesture meant to distance, to assert your autonomy against his sudden show of vulnerability or manipulation—whichever it truly was. Your voice, when it came, was laced with a mixture of resolve and undeniable truth, a reflection of the complex dance that had always defined your interactions.
"Your desire for me," you began, your words deliberate, "could never hope to keep pace with your lust for your myriad schemes and machinations, my love." The term of endearment, spoken so, carried a weight of irony, a nod to the past entanglements and the understanding that, for Loki, the pursuit of his goals often overshadowed everything else.
Yet, instead of acquiescing to the push, of allowing himself to be dismissed so easily, Loki's reaction was to tighten his grasp on the situation—quite literally. His hands, those instruments of mischief and manipulation, found your leg, his touch bold as he held you in place. Then, with an audacity that was quintessentially Loki, he pressed his lips against your calf in a kiss that was as shocking as it was calculated. It was an act of defiance, a refusal to be pushed away, and a statement of his intent all at once.
This gesture, so intimate and yet so brazen, served multiple purposes. It was a challenge to your autonomy, a test of your boundaries, and an undeniable declaration of his continued interest. Yet, it was also unmistakably Loki—crossing lines, blurring boundaries, and always, always pushing for more than what was offered. The action left you momentarily stunned, grappling with the rush of emotions it elicited. Anger, irritation, an unwelcome surge of something more confusing, all mingled together. It was a reminder of the power he wielded, not just through his magic, but through his very presence, his ability to unnerve and to provoke.
In that moment, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare once more. It was a tangled web of attraction and repulsion, of history and the potential for future conflicts. His refusal to be dismissed, to be pushed aside, was both infuriating and intriguing. It was Loki in all his complexity, challenging you to respond, to engage, to once again become entangled in the endless cycle of push and pull that had always defined you.
The next move was yours to make, and the shop, once a place of mundane tranquility, had become a battleground of wills, a stage upon which the next act of your shared story would unfold. With a flick of your fingers, reality within the confines of your shop twisted and shifted, unfurling like the petals of a flower under the first light of dawn. The mundane guise that had cloaked the truth from prying eyes dissolved, revealing the hidden splendor that no ordinary human could perceive. The illusion you had meticulously maintained for years now peeled away, and the floor beneath your feet transformed, paths of gold unfurling like rivers through the space. Artifacts, their origins as ancient and varied as the stars themselves, now adorned the walls—each piece a testament to histories untold and powers unimaginable.
But the transformation did not stop with the shop. It enveloped you as well, the very essence of your being responding to the unspoken command. The simple, mundane dress that had draped your form vanished, replaced by attire that echoed Loki's wistful remembrance. What materialized was reminiscent of your homeland's attire, designed for the relentless heat and the unyielding brightness of your realm. It was barely more than a tunic, the silk woven in patterns that spoke of ancient craftsmanship and royal decree, clinging to your form in a way that left little to the imagination. The hem flirted with the very brink of decency, the rump of your body barely shielded by the delicate fabric, a bold declaration of your heritage and status.
In this transformation, you reclaimed a fragment of your past self, the visage you had donned before you sought refuge and anonymity amongst the mortals of Earth. The change was not merely physical but symbolic, a shedding of the facade you had adopted to navigate the complexities of a world not your own. Standing there, in the true appearance of your being, you confronted Loki not as the unassuming shopkeeper he had encountered moments before, but as the goddess you truly were—powerful, formidable, and undeniably yourself. You stood before him not as an adversary to be underestimated, but as an equal, a being of immense power and depth, whose true nature was as complex and as potent as his own.
The shop, now a reflection of truths long concealed, served as the perfect backdrop for the unfolding confrontation. The artifacts that lined the walls, each bearing witness to the ages and the stories they contained, stood as silent sentinels to the encounter between two beings who transcended the mundane, whose histories were intertwined with the very fabric of the cosmos.
In this moment, the illusion shattered, the truth laid bare, you awaited Loki's response, the air thick with anticipation and the weight of unspoken challenges. The game, it seemed, had shifted, and the rules were being rewritten with each passing second. As the golden light settled and the true form of your shop shimmered into existence around you, Loki's initial reaction was a momentary flicker of surprise that quickly morphed into an appreciative smirk. His gaze swept over the transformed space, taking in the ancient artifacts and the streams of gold that ran like rivers across the floor. But it was the change in you that held his attention captive. The way the silk of your tunic clung to your form, the bold declaration of your divine heritage—it was as if he was seeing you for the first time all over again.
Loki breathed, his voice a blend of admiration and something darker, more primal. "This," Loki's voice wove through the air with an echo of ancient power, "is the true essence of you that lingers in my memory.” His eyes, alight with a mischievous and predatory gleam, never left your form as he slowly circled you, taking in every detail. "Hiding in plain sight, were we?" he mused, his tone teasing yet laced with an edge that hinted at the complexity of your shared past.
Despite the tension crackling in the air between you, you stood your ground, your posture radiating confidence and power. "And what of it, Loki?" you countered, your voice steady and imbued with strength. "Did you expect to find me cowering? Diminished?"
Loki's circling came to a halt, and he faced you, the distance between you charged with an electric anticipation. "On the contrary," he replied, his voice soft yet carrying an undeniable weight, as his fingers went forward, pulling at one of the strings keeping your body hidden from his gaze. "I've always known your strength, your... resilience. It's what makes this game so exhilarating."
The word 'game' hung between you, a reminder of the countless layers and facades both of you had navigated over the eons. This moment, however, stripped away those layers, revealing the raw essence beneath. It was a confrontation, yes, but also a recognition of the profound connection that had always existed between you—a connection fraught with complexity and contradictions.
"Are you certain you wish to engage in another game, Loki?" Your voice, steady and imbued with a quiet power, cut through the charged silence, even as you felt him unbuckle your shoes, his fingers deftly and slowly slipping them from your feet. "I seem to recall your rather... unfortunate defeat last time." The words hung in the air, a challenge and a reminder of past encounters where the balance of power had shifted, leaving Loki on the losing end.
Loki's hands stilled momentarily as he lifted his gaze to yours, a cunning glint sparkling within those deep green eyes. "Ah, but my dear, to dwell on a solitary defeat is to overlook the endless expanse of the game," he mused with a sly, almost serpentine smile. "The allure for me lies not in the victory or the loss, but in the exquisite complexity of the play itself. The interplay of strategy, the artful dance of minds. And," his voice dropped, a velvet caress against the tension hanging in the air, "the delicious possibility of reversing fortunes, which, I assure you, is a prospect I find most... exhilarating."
As he spoke, his fingers slid underneath your heel, leading your leg to rest over his shoulder with a care and precision that contradicted the levity in his voice. Loki laid another feathery touch to your thighs, gripping them tighter as he wedged his face between them, while you held fast to the edge of the counter. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your core.
There was no need to harbor affection for the man to appreciate the artistry his mouth provided. His tongue grazed the surface of your clit and you felt a tremor coursing through your very bones. He delved deeper, his taste encompassing the entirety of your core. As he did, your legs seemed to tighten inadvertently around him, though it posed no barrier to his indulgence. Your cunt clenched and you were swept away as his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pulling you closer onto his awaiting tongue. The surge of familiar emotions within you was overpowering, far too intense for your unprepared body. Your head fell back with a moan as you gave yourself to him in your entirety and Loki groaned, his tongue honing in on your bud as he chased your orgasm. He refused to relent until the heat had filled you whole, filled your soul. You writhed underneath him, hips helplessly buckling. Loki chuckled, a melodic blend of amusement and triumph, resonating with an undercurrent of sly cunning.
“That’s it, darling,” he coaxed as a surge of desire blossomed within you, enough to part your lips into a broken cry. His dark hair peeked between your fingers and his tongue snuck out to lick his lips while his gaze was set on you above him. His hand wandered to your tunic and yanked it away. His thumb grazed your nipple when he returned his mouth to your center, two of his fingers slowly dipping into your glistening heat.
“Loki,” you whimpered, tightening the hold on his hair—he matched your movements, arm securing you to him so forcefully no might on Earth and beyond could have parted you from his lips. He curled his fingers, rubbing that special spot inside of you and your stomach twitched. You felt him grin against your heat, teeth gracing over your sensitive bud, as a tremor ran through your body.
“My tempest darling,” he sighed when he finally pulled his fingers from you, leaving behind such an agonizing feeling of emptiness. You were about to retaliate, when he stood, bringing your body this his, hand running along the length of your thigh before he hoisted it against his hip. “Even if doubt shadows your heart, my dear, believe me, the absence of your taste on my tongue has been an ache most persistent,” Loki declared, his voice weaving together assurance and playful sincerity. One of his hands made quick work of undoing the dress pants of the black suit he was clad in, the other clutching your thigh close—so terribly tight you were certain even the skin of gods could be bruised by his hungry fingers. His lips found yours, softly at first, though through the looming desire burning within, Loki’s control appeared to stray when you bit into his lip, drawing blood. A groan tore from his throat, eyes darkening as he looked down at you, refusing to part from your gaze even as he entered you. Your mouth fell open against his, a silent moan slipping from your lips, his forehead dropping onto yours. He moved then, pulling out barely before he pushed back in so deeply it shook you. Loki had always been the embodiment of wickedness wrapped in the guise of charm; an enigma whose very presence stirred a vicious blend of temptation and sin, drawing all who encounter him into a dance with the devilishly divine.
“How I’ve missed you,” he whispered against the heated skin of your neck, traveling downward to softly kiss along your bared collarbones. His voice was a divinity, dark and rich and soaked with the sweetest of all sins. The emerald green within his eyes reflected the gold surrounding you. One of your hands cradled the back of his neck, fingers catching loose strands of raven hair that had grown so long in the centuries you hadn’t laid your sights on him. Loki held your thigh in a fierce grip, fingers digging further into your flesh with every stroke of his throbbing cock with your heat.
“You swore to kill me, my love,” you gasped as he delivered another harsh thrust, your head fell forward against his shoulder a searing pleasure built within you.
As his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your neck, savoring the salty essence of your being, Loki’s hand traveled from the curve of your thigh, securing you firmly against him at your waist, moving you against him in a refined rhythm. Against the warmth of your skin, he murmured, “To kill you, my little deity, would be akin to consigning a part of my own soul into the abyss.”
A gasp caught in your throat as he thrust into you deeper than before and you collapsed against him, coming with a cry of relief. He continued thrusting into you, arm keeping you secured against him as though you were about to vanish as you had done all those years ago. He lifted your chin, his mouth capturing yours when you felt him jerk inside of you. You felt his warmth spilling into you, his shameless groans filling your ears as he emptied himself within you. Breath mixing with his, you stayed there for a moment—in which the world seemed to narrow down to the space between the two of you, to the silent conversation spoken through glances and the slight tremors in your lungs.
Loki stole another kiss, then, as if breaking from a spell, his expression shifted, his early devotion to you giving way to a more serious, contemplative mien. “Business with you, my tempest darling, had always been a delight most exquisite,” Loki said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on violence. “I trust you’re familiar with the tales of the Celestial Compass, aren’t you?”  he continued, referring to an artifact of immense power and ancient origin, rumored to guide its holder to whatever they sought most in the universe. It was an object that you had kept hidden away, its location known only to you.
The mention of the compass sliced through the tension, a stark reminder of the stakes at play. Loki's presence in your shop, the transformation of your surroundings, the exchange of words—all were mere preludes to this moment.
"Why, Loki?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and defiance as you fixed the tunic he had so carelessly pulled aside. "Why seek the compass now? What is it you desire so fervently to find?"
Loki's smile then was enigmatic, a mask that offered no clear answers. "Ah, but revealing one's desires so openly is a dangerous game, my dear. Let's just say... I seek something that has long eluded me." The ambiguity of his response left you wary, aware that Loki's desires were seldom straightforward and often entwined with greater schemes and hidden agendas. Yet, the acknowledgment of this quest, of his need for the compass, revealed a vulnerability in Loki—a crack in the armor he so carefully maintained.
As Loki awaited your response, the weight of centuries and the anticipation of what was to come hung heavily in the air. The next move was yours to make, in a game that was as much about uncovering truths as it was about concealing them. In response to his inquiry, your reply came not in words, but in the form of a serene smile, a silent echo of your shared past. With a casual flick of your fingers, you vanished into the ether, just as you had done countless centuries before, leaving Loki alone in the confines of what now appeared to be a decrepit shop. Its once vibrant essence faded, reflecting the sudden void your departure had created.
Loki, momentarily taken aback, quickly regained his composure. A laugh, rich with both amusement and a tinge of admiration, escaped him as he reached out to snatch a golden letter materializing out of thin air. The letter, simple yet profound in its message. The words, though brief, carried the weight of eons, a testament to the enduring dance between you two. Loki's gaze lingered on the golden script, a smirk playing on his lips, already plotting his next move in the timeless game between you.
“Farewell, my love.”
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lokisgoodgirl · 8 months
Text
Slower [Loki x f.Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki strips it all off. Slowly. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language. Established relationship. A/N: Some lines taken from my drabble New Lingerie
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You sat perched on the edge of Loki’s bed, poised as the heavy footsteps grew closer. Each leathered thud ricocheted around the high hallway ceiling.
He was coming. Coming to you. Coming for you.
And he was almost here.
Your back straightened, feeling the cut of the corset tight to your chest. Fingers widened against the cotton sheets, material melting into every ridge. The main apartment door flew open somewhere beyond, slamming shut immediately.
Just a few more steps. Thud. The thunder in your chest was deafening. Your body a pulsing, adrenaline-soaked vessel dripping and trembling with unspent desire.
The doorknob turned. And in a moment of eerie quiet, the door swung open. Slowly. Loki-the-Warrior filled the frame. The silhouette of his huge body against the hallway light, haloed against the inconsequential outside world.
He was a heaving, smouldering, mission-soaked mass.
Narrowed eyes peered up beneath thick brows, the alignment of his nose and lips and chin to his chest making arousal seep deeper into your flimsy gusset.
Loose hair fell in waves around his shoulders, the cape settling in swinging folds by his calves. He had been expecting you, it seemed. You swallowed, watching the twitch of his lip curl into a solitary, mirthless dimple.
"What in the Nine...are you wearing?" he snarled. Embers of the fresh fight pulsed in his glare as he paused. It hit it like a punch.
Loki's forearm propped on the doorframe. A cool draft tickled your skin. You hadn’t realised how warm it was in here.
"Do you like it?" you purred nervously, uncrossing and re-crossing your legs. The silk chiffon of your stockings slid together as Loki’s lips pursed. He tilted his head, throat working.
You could see cogs turning as he ran his eyes over the boned corset clinging to your body, over the lines of your suspender belt strapped tight to supple flesh.
A finger ran lightly down your thigh, slipping one beneath a string. “It’s called lingerie,” you said, inspecting before releasing the suspender with a snap. His eyebrows rose, a low chuckle forming before he shook his head.
"Never before have I seen you so,” he paused with mild disdain, running the icy stare to the tips of your toes back to your face, “hidden... on my return.”
The velvet voice was tinged with suspicion as he flicked a hand by his side, making the leather cape swing as he paced slowly toward you. Each stride, measured. “Although I shall admit, it... stirs something deep within me.”
He came to stop at eye level, his stomach inches from your parted lips.
Loki’s voice was heavy, thick with the day’s trials and the beating drum of his baser needs which demanded attention as they always did. "Was that your plot?” he smouldered, “to stir something within me, little fox?"
The god’s cock was hardening visibly beneath his trousers as he spoke, creases forming as the ancient material relented to the power beneath. It grew upward against his hip, shameless and ready. He was always ready.
"It's crotchless?" you offered meekly, fastening your lips to the bulge in front of you. You sucked the leather, making your god release a guttural growl. The heat from your breath misted, wetness forming. A shallow groan floated down as his knees buckled. Just a bit. "Midgardians..." he murmured incredulously, his fingers smoothing the back of your head, pressing your closer. "Mmm, whatever will you think of next?" His hands moved down the curve of your neck, cupping your shoulders before pushing you back from his crotch.
You looked up into his darkened eyes, every inch his willing whore. Loki let out a sigh as his fingertips trailed lazily over the swell of your cleavage, eyes following every small indentation they made. He grunted, hips squeezing forwards as if fighting himself.
“And what is the male equivalent in this realm for this type of garment?” he purred, sentimentality returning to his voice as his walls lowered. "Surely there must be one." You uncrossed your legs, widening your thighs and pulled his tunic closer. Craning up at this angle you could see the faintly smeared signs of battle coating his throat. Thin trails of clean skin through dried sweat down the hard vein of his neck. “Some say suits,” you husked. “But I say... leather.” Loki’s breath hitched, choking back a laugh. “You cannot possibly feel the way that I do at this present time whenever you see me in this,” he stuttered, gesturing weakly to himself.
He was staring at your tits, his twitching, pulsing cock pressed against your cleavage. Each desperate rock of his hips made the leather rustle lightly.
Your hands began to run up the back of his thighs beneath the cape. The visceral heat of his skin through the leather made you shudder. Mess slid between your spread thighs against flimsy panties, clenching air as your fingers mapped every curve of his muscles until they met the curve of his ass. The hiss from his gritted teeth as you squeezed, pressing his cock tighter to your chest, was unbearable. “I can,” you panted, “and I do.” Loki let out a strained chuckle. “Oh darling, how awful of me to unknowingly torture you so,” he teased wickedly, spreading his feet wider on the floor. The clunk of his heavy boots was ceremonial. You laughed softly. “You know how incredible you look in your armour. In everything, actually. And nothing.” You looked up at him, feeling unexpected heat creep into your cheeks. “You know it. And I know you know it.” “Well, yes. Quite,” he postured with a smirk before his lips hardened. His eyes suddenly glazed. “But to think of you... a quivering wreck of desire at my mere presence wearing such basic uniform is,” he paused, breaths quick; “arousing in the extreme.” “Nothing about you is basic,” you smiled, squeezing his ass before searching kisses worked over the surface of his tunic. He moaned, as rich and luxe as the sheets beneath your thighs. His ass, the flat of his midriff, it was all so fucking hard. All of him. Loki’s cock twitched. Your nails scratched against the material, pulling him closer. The solid impossibility of him being so close would never be enough. “What do you think of? When you see me in-” He gasped as your teeth grazing against the thick of his shaft through the leather, “-public...in, in this” he finished, one thigh beginning to tremble. You rested your chin on his length, pressing hard as you looked up. “I imagine touching myself,” you enunciated slowly, “it’s all I can do not to do it right there,” You out a soft, calculated moan. Loki released the breath he’d been holding in a short puff, possessive desire burning deep in his eyes as he stared into yours. “And, I imagine you stripping it off,” you continued with a wink.
The god pressed his lips together, a quaking sigh rolling in his throat. That can be arranged, he was about to say. “Slowly, though -” you quipped, quickly leaning back on your elbows against the mattress. Loki frowned. “No magic?”
You shook your head playfully, biting your lip. “And then we make love, yes?” he said, suspicion returning as he took a step back. You nodded, fighting to contain a gleeful smile.
Long, eager fingers flew beneath his left shoulder, tearing at the buckle fastenings beneath.
“Uh-uh,” you chided, drawing your soles over the duvet spread. You widened your legs, letting them fall open. “Slowly, please” you repeated, drawing a lazy finger up the length of your thigh. “Give me a show, Loki of Asgard.” The sultriness of your voice surprised even you as a sigh racked your lover’s torso. There was a beat of resignation, before his shoulders adopted a mouth-watering ceremonial snap. Slowly this time, he reached for the buckle attaching the length of leather cape to his shoulder guard. The soft clunk of metal releasing made you clench. Loki watched the fine leather draping fall away from his shoulder, the angle of his jaw flashing in the low light. Beneath a fan of ebony lashes, he lifted his gaze to you before reaching to the other buckle. Your breath hitched as another beautiful clunk pierced the air like a penny on glass. The mechanism released, the fabric sliding seductively down his arm. The ancient Asgardian leather pooled in a semi-circle by his feet. Silk lining shone invitingly in shadow. “Slow enough for you, my love?” he purred. You nodded, not breaking eye contact as he made a show of pulling each settle of leather from his fingers. The knuckleguards peeled from his skin, falling soundlessly by his feet. “Truly,” he started casually while dexterous digits began to unlace unseen binds on the left side of his torso, “Asgardian tanner workmanship is the finest in all the realms.” The whizz of leather on leather buzzed as a lace was pulled beneath one long finger, loosening the tunic. “I do not appreciate it as much as I should, perhaps.” “I agree,” you murmured seductively, fighting the urge to launch yourself from the bed and fasten to his body like wet paper on a wall. He reached behind his head, tugging the leather vest. It slipped over, before he tossed it to the floor. Loki spread his arms, spinning in a teasing circle. His hair was mussed now, gorgeous tendrils fighting against each other for glory within an onyx crown. With unbearable precision, dancing fingers dislodged the armour from his wrists. They dropped to the floor in quick succession. The god lowered his chin, deep eyes penetrating your soul as he slid two fingers beneath the folds of deep green leather. The arms carried the traditional ceremonial markings of his station, of his power. But what lay beneath the chestplate now resting on the floor was more valuable. More poetic. Despite never being on full show, the body of the under-tunic was a work of art. Each stitch crafted by ancient fingertips in faraway lands, embroidered and infused with spells and primordial rites befitting their ultimate adornment. Him. A sliver of alabaster skin appeared, the valley of sculpted chest muscle you ran your tongue over before you rode him almost every night flashing into view. Each golden button fell away beneath that graceful touch. Another, and another, slowly to the bottom hem. Until only one remained.
Loki toyed with it, running his thumb along the curve which hung just above his naval. You groaned, gripping the bedsheets in a fist. “Whatever is the matter, love?” he teased. “You requested slow, so slow...I shall be.” His eyebrows rose expectantly, daring a response. You couldn’t muster one, as the final button popped between his fingers.
With aching precision, Loki shrugged the leather tunic from his shoulders with a sluttish roll. The tight jacket caught on the curve of his biceps, edging down before dropping to the floor with a thick thump. You moaned again, feeling your resolve weaken. Loki was looking to the floor, hair hanging by his cheekbones. It spread to candlelight-glossed shoulders as he lifted his face, the marble perfection of that bone-structure making you tremble on his bed like a virgin. You would never get used to seeing him undressed. But half-dressed? Somehow, that was even more deadly. His abdominals clenched with each breath, the sharp lines of his obliques cutting and receding. Was he holding back, the way that you were? He was enjoying this, that much was certain. Loki’s manhood still stretched up to his hip, fat and desperate for your touch. You licked your lips, biting gently. The god cocked his head. “Taking off one’s shoes is never an attractive endeavour,” he stated sheepishly, widening his legs. The thick v of his hip muscles flexed. Making use of the pause, you scooted to the side; extending your legs and popping a hand leisurely beneath your head. “Well, how else are you gonna get those tight trousers off, Laufeyson?” you teased. Loki squinted, pursing his lips. “No magic?” he grumbled. “No magic,” you confirmed. Without missing a beat, Loki bunched a scarce inch of leather by his outer thigh in a vice. With a thundering rip, he pulled the ancient leather from his body. The trousers split like tissue paper, cast to the side where they skated theatrically across the floor before scraping to a stop. You stared at them, open-mouthed before sliding back to his waiting smirk.
He gave a small nod of self-satisfied acknowledgement.
A smile stretched across your face, reaching your eyes as his did the same. He gave a light shrug as his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, tugging gently while he stared into your eyes.
“And the boots?” you whispered, voice catching. “Oh no, darling” Loki murmured, his voice thick and heavy with lust. He began to stride the final steps towards you.
“Tonight, the boots stay on.”
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cleo-fox · 8 months
Text
Close Quarters
Part 2 of 2
(Part 1)
Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.
Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.
A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.
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Mercifully, the hallway is empty.
You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.
It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.
“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.
“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”
“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.
“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”
He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”
You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.
Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.
“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”
Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”
“Good. Undress.”
He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”
You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.
He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.
You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.
And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.
You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.
You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.
You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.
When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.
Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.
“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.
In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.
You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.
And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.
You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.
The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.
“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.
“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.
“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.
“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.
“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”
Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.
The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.
“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”
He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”
You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”
His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”
You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.
“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.
His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”
Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”
You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.
The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”
You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.
His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.
“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 
“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”
“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”
Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.
“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.
“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.
“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”
There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”
He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.
And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.
“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”
You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.
“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.
“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.
“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.
“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”
“Good girl.”
His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.
You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.
He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.
“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”
Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.
“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.
“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”
The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.
He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”
You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.
He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”
Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.
He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”
This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”
You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.
“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”
This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.
“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”
Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.
“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”
Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.
Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.
You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.
His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”
You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.
“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”
You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”
You moan against his cock, sucking harder.
“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”
You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.
“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”
Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.
His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”
You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.
He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.
You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.
He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”
You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.
“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”
You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.
He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”
His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.
“I told you I need you,” you murmur.
He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”
He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.
“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.
You moan and nod.
He repeats the action. “And this?”
You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”
“Loki, please—”
“What is it darling?”
You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.
“Please don’t stop, please—”
“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”
“Loki, please—”
He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.
“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”
He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.
“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”
He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.
“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”
You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.
You nod, words somewhere beyond you.
“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”
You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.
“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”
You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.
“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”
You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.
From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”
You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”
Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.
“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.
Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.
“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.
“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”
You whimper. You are almost there.
“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”
It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.
“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.
You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.
It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.
You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.
You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.
“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”
If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.
“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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simplyholl · 16 days
Text
Truly Desperate
Summary: When you can’t get off, you go to your enemy on the team for help.
Pairing: Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist Here
Why did you have the worst luck out of everyone in the world? You had such a great start to your day. Your date had went so well, you invited him back to your room at the Avengers’ Compound. You hadn’t slept with anyone in months. He was so handsome, just your type. Dark, curly hair with light eyes, you were instantly drawn to him when you met him.
Things took a wrong turn as soon as you shut the door behind you. He made himself comfortable on your bed while you went to freshen up. You picked out your favorite black, lacy lingerie set covering it with a silky robe. Then someone pounded on your door loud enough to wake the dead.
“Lady Y/N! Come quickly, I need assistance.” Thor’s voice boomed from the hallway. You apologized to your date, and answered the door. “This better be life threatening.” You whisper, shutting the door behind you. He looks at you sheepishly, hiding something behind his back. “Never mind, I will find someone else...”
You reach behind him, revealing a jar of peanut butter. “What’s this?” You ask, getting madder by the second. “I need help opening this most delicious of treats, and everyone else is gone or asleep.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before you do something drastic like choke him.
“You can’t open this?” You point to the small jar in his hands. He shakes his head no. You grab it, twisting the lid. It pops off so easily, you’re sure he didn’t even try. Without a word, you turn around, entering your room again. “I’m so sorry.” You apologize to your date, as he interrupts you. “Was that Thor? He’s my favorite! This is so cool!”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll show you why I should be your favorite Avenger.” You quip, pushing him on his back. Loud banging on your door interrupts you once more. You jump up, flinging the door open. “Thor I will shove that jar down your throat if you interrupt me again!” You shout, expecting to see him. Instead you’re met with Loki, smirking as leans against your doorframe. “Always so violent.” He shakes his head.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have an urgent mission. Stark says you and I are to go immediately.” He looks down at your barely dressed body. “Like what you see, perv?” You smack his arm. Loki is your least favorite on the team. He’s always arguing with you over the smallest stuff. He ruined your birthday this year by hiring geriatric strippers. He ate the last cookie from your favorite bakery without asking. He always insulted your choice on movie night. Tony liked to pair you together so he could laugh about it later. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that he was the one standing here.
You want to scream. Of course, some bad guy is hell bent on destroying the world when you are in desperate need of some dick. “Alright, just let me change before we go.” You turn back towards your room, Loki grabs your wrist. “There’s no time. We must hurry.” You look apologetically at your date who is awe struck from seeing Loki. “It’s okay, I understand.” He says as he walks around the two of you to leave.
You follow Loki to the Helicarrier, cursing under your breath. When you arrive, no one is there to brief you. Usually Tony or Steve will meet you there before your mission to tell you what to expect. You look at Loki confused. “Where’s Tony?” You ask, placing your hand on your silk covered hips. “About that…” Loki starts. “Are you serious? You ruined my date for nothing?” You push passed him, to the doorway to type in the code to leave.
His obscenely large, veiny hand blocks the keypad. You’ve never noticed how long his fingers were until now. What would they feel like inside you? They could probably reach spots that the men you’ve slept with couldn’t reach with their dicks. Where did that come from?! You need to stop thinking about Loki’s hands right now. The guy is an asshole who always torments you. Not to mention, he just cockblocked you.
“I saved you.” Loki tells you, smiling as if you should thank him. “Saved me? Loki, if that guy tried anything, I could’ve kicked his ass faster than I could have called for help.” Loki shakes his head, “He went out with Natasha last week. You saw how excited he looked to be near me, and I am America’s least favorite Avenger. You weren’t special. He was using you.”
You look at him incredulously. “Loki, I don’t need some random man to make me feel special. I just wanted to have meaningless sex with a hot guy.” He finally lets you type in the code, following you out as the doors open. “I could help you with that.” His blue eyes hungrily trace every curve your little robe accentuates.
You laugh, “No offense, but we don’t even like each other.” “Exactly my point, darling. It would be the very definition of meaningless.” You consider his offer. It has been a long time since a man got you off. But, he just sent the one date you had that seemed normal away to protect you. It was so unlike him. “No thanks, I’ll just stick with my vibrator.” You turn around to stick your tongue out at him, before sprinting ahead of him back to your room.
You open your bedside drawer, holding your vibrator in your hand. You were so worked up, you could probably get off from just looking at it. But, you go through the motions anyway. You close your eyes as you dip your hand under your bra to play with one of your nipples. You let your imagination run wild. It’s not you rolling your nipples, but your date. His dark hair fans across your chest as he takes one between his lips.
You pull your panties down, putting the vibrator in place. It whirls to life, as you imagine him kissing down your stomach to between your legs. He gently bites the inside of your thigh. “Loki!” You moan as the man looks up at you. Instead of your date, it’s Loki smirking at you knowingly. You jump, throwing your vibrator across the room. It hits the wall with a loud thud. What’s the matter with you? Your date was so hot and you were imagining Loki?
You went to retrieve your toy, turning it back on. It buzzed for a brief second before twirling one last time. Come on! You press all the buttons, hoping for a miracle. It’s no use, you broke it when you threw it. You lay back on your bed, having to resort back to medieval times when women had to use their hands to get off.
You close your eyes again, trying to picture your date. Instead Loki’s hands on the keypad, forever ingrained in your memory, appear. You groan, frustrated beyond belief. If thinking about a coworker was going to help you get off, there were plenty to choose from. You imagine Bucky choking you with his metal arm as you work your fingers, but you feel nothing. Steve on his knees for you - nothing. Bruce fucking you on top of all his paperwork? Nope. Boning Tony midair in the Iron Man suit? Nothing. Sam taking you against the wall - not even a stir. Thor and his hammer - dry as the desert.
You stop, your hand will get a cramp and it will all be for nothing. “I could help you with that.” You imitate Loki in a mocking voice. You pull your panties up, and slip your robe back on. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own as they carry you out of your room, down the long hallway to Loki’s room.
You knock quickly, hoping he will open the door before someone sees you out here. He opens it, leaving no room between himself and the door. You try to push past him, but he stops you. “What’s this about?” You want to smack the smirk right off his face. You look around the deserted hallway praying Thor was right about everyone being out or asleep.
“Let me in before someone sees us.” You plead, walking into his solid body once more. “My sweet girl, you must be truly desperate to come to me. I thought you were going to be satisfied with your silicone cock. Isn’t that what you said when you left me behind earlier?” You roll your eyes. He really was insufferable.
“It broke.” You motion to his doorway, but he doesn’t budge. “I knew you would give in. You couldn’t stop thinking about me could you? I saw you drooling over my hands back there.” You place a hand on your forehead, letting out the biggest sigh. “Loki, can we please talk inside?” You look around again just to make sure no one was watching. “What’s the rush, little one? We have all night.” You hear one of the doors creak open down the hall, Sam walks towards you with his head down.
He makes eye contact as he gets closer. “Just borrowing a phone charger.” You lie, pulling your revealing robe closed. Sam looks between you and Loki, smiling as the realization hits. “I didn’t see shit and I don’t know shit.” He says, laughing as he walks to the elevator. “Loki, let me in. Sam saw us, isn’t that enough?”
“I need you to do one thing for me before I let you come in.” You think about leaving right now, but you’re too horny. You have to get off, and Loki is hot, even though you would never admit that to him. “Beg for it.” “Right here?” You shake your head, he’s unbelievable. You really should leave, but you had heard stories from the people that stayed the night with him. They would come into the kitchen with just fucked hair to make coffee before leaving. You were an early riser, so unfortunately you ran into most of them.
They all gushed about how good he was in bed. You really needed this. So you clasped your hands together, looking him in the eyes as you beg him. “Please Loki, give me that godly Asgardian dick?” You fight the laughter bubbling in the back of your throat as you say the silly words. Satisfied, he finally moves out of the way. You rush inside, sitting on his bed.
“I think we should have rules.” You tell him as he saunters toward you. “Like what? You Midgardians complicate everything, even sex.” “Well I don’t think we should kiss for starters.” You start to pace in front of his bed, suddenly feeling nervous. “We should undress ourselves. And you can’t cum inside me.”
Loki smiles, “Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?” You laugh at his audacity. “No I’m afraid you’ll fall in love with me. Guys get obsessed once they’ve had a taste.” He rolls his eyes at that. “I don’t even like you. Besides, I’ve never been in love in 1,054 years. It won’t happen now.” He starts shedding his clothes as you loosen the tie on your robe. You both pile your clothes together in the floor until there’s nothing left.
“This means nothing.” You stick your pinky out for him to seal the deal with a pinky promise. “Couldn’t agree more.” His finger locks with yours briefly. He picks you up, pinning you against the wall. His head dips as his sharp teeth nip along your neck. Your hands travel the length of his muscular back. All that nonsense in the hall was worth it, even if this was all you got.
Loki continues biting a trail from your collarbone to your jaw, earning a whimper from you. Your legs feel like jelly and he hadn’t really done anything. His skilled hands find your breasts, cupping them as his thumbs roll against your nipples. You gently kiss his chest, feeling his toned stomach against your soft skin. You lick his nipple, causing him to moan against your neck.
He stops to carry you back to his bed, placing you at the top. He follows, crawling between your legs. He shoots you a wicked smile that makes you feel like you’re about to be eaten alive. Loki drags his tongue up your soaked center. The heat of his mouth as his firm, velvet tongue swirls around you sends your head spinning. Silver tongue? More like magic tongue.
Every movement is designed to drive you crazy. Every flick makes your legs shake. His head rocks between your thighs, messy curls shaking as he traces your clit with the tip of his tongue. He strokes you with his talented muscle, working you into a frenzy. Needy moans of his name mix with the wet sound of him drinking you down. His lips suction around your clit, you pull his curls, needing him closer. He whimpers, the vibration from his voice along with the perfect pressure of his lips send you spiraling. He lets you ride out your orgasm, before lining himself up between your legs.
Loki sinks into you and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner. It’s like he was made for you. You’re entranced with every thrust. He really does have a godly dick and he was showing you he knows exactly how to use it. One hand caresses your cheek, “Did you think about how my cock would feel inside you while you used your pathetic toy?” You whine as he snaps his hips, hitting deeper.
Your nipples brush against his hard chest, you wrap your legs tighter around him. You love how strong he is, how big he feels compared to you. He could crush you with one hand if he wanted to. His forehead connects with yours, and he looks down at you trembling with pleasure underneath him. His lips curl in cocky satisfaction. His eyes lock onto yours, watching intensely as he fucks into you. You’re suddenly afraid he’s going to kiss you, so you turn your head.
His mouth latches onto your exposed neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, claiming you. You buck your hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Suddenly he stops, flipping you over so that you’re on top. His hands dig into your hips as he lifts you up and down on him. The new angle hits spots you didn’t even know you had. You move your hips faster, as he fucks you, matching his rhythm.
“I’m close.” He warns you, giving you time to get off of him. You lay on the bed, mouth opened wide as he strokes himself over you. His hot cum lands on your tongue, chin, and breasts. You swallow what lands in your mouth. Loki watches in awe, running a long finger over your chest, gathering a good portion before bringing it to your lips. You swirl your tongue around him, loving the salty, sweet taste of him. He continues the process until you’re mostly clean.
“Would you like to watch a film?” He asks as you use one of his towels to clean what he couldn’t off you. “No, Loki. I don’t even like you.” You state matter of factly, wrapping your silk robe around you before leaving. You run into Thor in the hall, walking fast so he wouldn’t notice you leaving Loki’s room. Loki walks out, greeting Thor. “Do you have what you promised?” Thor asks, watching to make sure you went inside your room. Loki hands him a bag of chocolates, “Thank you, brother for interrupting her date earlier.” Thor rips the bag open, putting six chocolates in his mouth at once. “I hope your interference was worth it.” Thor says between bites. “Indeed, it was.”
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@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore
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wheredafandomat · 9 months
Text
Cherry Pie 🍒
Mob! Loki x female baker! reader
18+ | contains smut, slight breeding kink
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Clearing away the things on the counter, you made your way to the cupboard, putting the flour away before you heard the door chime. It wasn’t long ago that you changed the open sign to closed however you stupidly didn’t lock the door. Huffing to yourself, you put the flour down before you called out.
“We’re closed.”
“Even for me.” You heard the stranger reply before your eyes widened at the rich familiar voice. Quickly, you made your way to the front of the shop.
“Mr Laufeyson.” You greeted, wiping your hands on your apron before realising even that was covered in flour too. You took it off, placing it on a table as you stepped towards him. “Please, take a seat.” You offered, gesturing to a table.
“Loki is fine.” He insisted, sitting down.
“I’ll get you a slice of pie.” You smiled as he sat.
“I was just passing through the area and thought why not say hello to my favorite baker,” he explained as you cut him a slice of pie, “and business partner of course.” He added as you squirted a little cream on top of it before bringing it to him with a fork. Once you were in front of him, you placed the plate on the table, taking a seat opposite him. He could sense your apprehension, he knew you that well. “What’s the matter?” He asked, picking the fork up.
“Look, Mr Laufeyson, I can’t keep bringing your shipments through the shop.” You spoke evenly, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders at your admittance.
“Loki” he corrected you, dipping his index finger into the cream before bringing it to his lips, tongue darting out as he licked it off. Your eyes followed his movements as you subconsciously bit your lip. “I’m usually on a first name basis with the pretty women who serve me pie” he grinned, turning his attention to you “and my my, isn’t it delicious.” He finished, eyes roaming up and down your body as he licked his lips. You felt flustered under his gaze before he looked back down at his plate, cutting a piece off with the side of his fork before stabbing the severed piece and bringing it up to his mouth. “Start again, and say my name.”
“Loki” you began, taking a breath before you continued “I can’t keep bringing your shipments through the shop.”
“Y/n” he sighed in fake dramatics “you wound me.” He smiled, placing his hand against his heart as he continued to eat, your eager eyes still following his movements. “Mmm” he hummed contently “cherry pie.”
“Your favourite.” You answered, swallowing thickly.
“Would you like a taste?” He offered.
“No I—” you started to protest before he presented a piece on his fork to your mouth.
“Open” he prompted you, eyes on yours. Opening your mouth, you welcomed the pie, already knowing it was delicious; it was a family recipe, a recipe that was now tainted by the image of Loki feeding it to you and his expression as he commanded you to open your mouth.
Using his thumb, he swiped off the cream that had landed on the corner of your mouth before bringing it to your lips. He didn’t have to prompt you to lick it off.
“Tell me y/n, why can’t things continue how they are?” He questioned, sitting back in his chair “it’s a good thing we’ve got going on here. I offer you my protection in his shady, dingy town in exchange for one of your vans once a fortnight” he shrugged “I mean, we do exchange other things too” he smirked “but that’s pleasure, not business.”
“I don’t want to be a part of it anymore, I don’t like the risk.” You sighed.
“So it’s the risk you don’t like” he pondered, standing to his feet “and here I was, clearly mistaken, thinking you liked taking risks” he spoke, making his way to you “tell me what I can do that’ll make you more agreeable” he probed, lowering his lips to your ear as he spoke behind you before placing his hands on your shoulders “do you want me to use my hands?” He asked, a smile evident in his tone “you seem to like them.” He added, noting how your breath hitched as he began massaging your shoulders.
“Loki.” You breathed.
“Or perhaps you want me to use my mouth” he countered, kissing your neck, your eyes falling closed. “Do you want me to tell you what I think y/n, I think you like the risk” he chuckled darkly before lowering his lips to your ear again “I think you find it thrilling.” He continued, kissing the nape of your neck. “Tell me, do I make you feel alive?”
“Loki.” You exhaled desperately.
“What do you want, pretty girl?”
“I want you.” You relented.
It wasn’t long before you were on your feet, kissing Loki as you walked to the backroom. Your breaths were heavy between kisses, filling the space between you as he pushed you up against the table, lips venturing your chest. His hands found your body, both of them starting at your shoulders and moving down to your hips as he turned you around so that your back was against his chest as his kisses centred at the nape of your neck. Your breaths grew ragged as you felt his thumbs curling into the waistband of your jeans before he was tugging them down your legs along with your panties. You wordlessly stepped out of them, at the mercy of Loki Laufeyson. You felt his lustful kisses against the back of your legs, his lips working their way up to your thighs as his soft hands roughly pushed them apart. You gripped the edge of the table hard as his impatient kisses finally found your centre whilst he bent you over, opening you with his tongue.
“Fuckk.” You moaned as Loki licked his thumb, rubbing your clit with it as his tongue delved through your folds, exploring your sex. His hands cupped your ass, revealing more of you as he flattened his tongue against you before swiping across your clit leaving you panting like a bitch in heat. “Just like thattt.” You whimpered as he hummed against your pussy leaving vibrations reverberating through you. “I’m gonna cum.” You near cried as he wrapped his lips around your clit.
“Not yet” Loki beseeched, standing to his feet as the swelling pleasure that was building inside of you began to dissipate. You heard Loki undo his belt before you felt the tip of his cock breaching your sensitive entrance. “Is this what you want me to use?” He exhorted, his lips close to your ear again only this time glossy with your asousual.
“L-Loki.” You murmured, unable to string a sentence together as he ran the head of his cock through your folds before lining himself up with your entrance again.
“Will burying my cock deep inside of you make you more agreeable, more amenable, hmm?” He questioned, pushing more of his length inside of you. “Show me how affable you really are, I want to fuck the genial host I’m used to.” He grunted as he entered you completely, impaling you with his cock as you screamed his name in rapture. The table shook as he fucked you, pushing your back down against it as he held your waist. “See, I knew you liked taking risks” he grinned “I don’t even have a condom on and you’re still letting me fuck you.” He sniggered, slapping your ass.
“S-so good.” You choked out, swimming in pleasure, barely able to speak.
“Are you going to let me cum inside of you too, fill you with my seed?” He grunted, his strokes paced as you felt every ridge of his cock against your walls “you always lose all control when you’re filled with my hot seed” he gushed “sticky and panting, your natural state, isn’t that right my hospitable whore” he continued to goad, fucking you deeply. “Or maybe you want me to make you a doting mother?” He ventured, grinding his hips into yours, his thumb teasing your clit again.
“Fuck!” You yelped in unaldorterated pleasure, his words driving you insane.
“You know I’ve always had a soft spot for you, maybe I should finally fuck a baby into you” he groaned, his climax fast approaching “would you like that?” He rushed out, staving off his orgasm, he needed your confirmation, your faux vows to really send him over the edge. You nodded frantically in response but that wasn’t enough. “Say it!” He ordered desperately.
“Yes! Fuck Loki yesss!” You yelled, hitting your peak as Loki’s thrusts turned disoriented, sloppy before he came, shooting his load deep inside you.
“Fuck!” He growled, spilling inside of you as you tried to slow your breaths.
Once you had both come down from your highs, Loki pulled out of you before sheathing himself again. Silently, you turned around, your legs shaky beneath you as you reached for your jeans.
“If you don’t want me to use your van, I won’t use your van” Loki eventually spoke “there are other ways for me to import and export.”
“Loki, wait.” You called after him as he turned to leave.
“You’ll still have my protection as long as I still get my cherry pie.” He winked before leaving.
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Omg in the season 2 trailer, Mobius was telling Loki to eat the pie 😂
Tags:
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ashdreams2023 · 3 months
Note
Can you please do Loki reacting to reader if they asked for him to keep his horns on while doing the dirty 🤭 and also maybe it’s usually really soft and sweet but she wants Loki to be rough and he’s initially taken aback? 🙃 -can be whatever writing style you want, thanks
The horns stay
Loki x fem reader {NSFW}
Loki loved your lip, your eyes, your hands and your curves, every inch of you made him his blood boil with heat, he wanted to take his time lavishing you and making you feel special.
"Loki" you moaned as he took off your clothes, enjoying the way you squirmed under his cool hands and your back arched.
"I’ll be there my love just one second" he pushed you into the bed, not too strong he doesn’t want to hurt you.
He takes off his armor with a flick of his finger then reaches for him helmet but your sudden movement stop him, you sit Straight on the bed and reach for his hand, you pull it away from the helmet and pull him into bed "leave it, please"
His eyes darkened before slamming his lips onto yours, your arms warped around his neck in perfect harmony, pressing your naked chests together.
"Don’t hold back, please, I want you to make me yours, all the way"
Loki cursed underneath his breath, he licked his lips and bite your bottom lip teasingly before running his hand over your chest and squeezing your breast making me moan louder.
"You want me to mark you? Bruise your pretty skin my dove?" He breathed into your ear causing you to shiver.
"Yes, yes please, do your worst to me!" Loki grinned devilishly before pulling away and flipping you on your back, making you face the huge mirror near the bed.
Loki pulled you by your hair and lifted your head up slightly so you can get a good look at yourself and him in the reflection of the mirror.
His helmet horns still stood tall and shiny on his head "Beg me more, tell me how much you want it"
"Loki, my prince, please, take me, now!"
He slammed his cock inside of you and didn’t leave you any time to adjust like he did many times before, it was exciting and you were so wet and needy, it drove him crazy.
"You like that? That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?" He said thrusting rough into you, rocking your body with each slap and slapping your ass with his strong hand.
You watched with lust fogging your vision, all you could feel is him filling you up again and again.
Those horns made him look sinister, so intimidating, so powerful and Royal.
And you were his very own dove, the prettiest, most spoiled dove.
"Fuck you’re so wet and desperate, don’t cum yet" he said breathless then pulling out of you. You whined looking back at him and reaching your hand back to touch him but he held your wrist and pulled you on top of him.
"I did what you wished for my beautiful dove, now work for it like the little princess you are, take your throne"
You blinked away a few tears of frustration and grabbed onto his horns then seated yourself down, you were so close and just needed a couple of jumps in.
"Yes, just like that use me, use your prince" his words made your throat dry and your hips faster, he gripped your sides the whole time, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, edging you till your orgasm reached its peak and you came on his cock.
You still kept holding onto the horns, letting him thrust into your sensitive pussy until he finally came shortly after.
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