#loki smut of course

[elenaysusneuras]

For Science

A/N: My second fic in less than a month, I am proud of my achievement. I'll be honest, there were times when I thought this fic was turning into a big pile of disgusting garbage and almost gave up on it a couple of times. But alas, I persevered and I think sometimes I have to trust the process, or in my case the chaotic horny mess that is my brain. Again, English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes, please be patient and kind, I can only wish to improve. Please enjoy!! Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: SMUT (Obviously). Soft!Loki, Sex pollen trope, oral, penetration…just your regular filthy smut fic with a hint of plot. Avengers IW never happened. Words: 6.8k.

When you started working at the Avengers compound you could never have guessed what your life there would be like. And indeed every day was a surprise. You were hired as part of the medical staff after Tony read your thesis about modern medicine applied to metahumans. From day one you have been part of Dr. Banner's team and you were over the moon. Your work consisted in finding new ways of healing wounds inflicted by non-conventional weapons on enhanced humans. It was a challenging job that kept you on your feet and you loved it. And being so close to the almighty heroes almost made you feel one as well. One could dream.

In the span of a month you met most of the Avengers. They were nice and always grateful of your assistance. Captain America was polite and stoic, trying to be helpful in any way he could. Peter Parker always stammered and fidgeted while you looked at his wounds, something you found endearing. Bucky Burnes flirted with everyone. The Falcon told terrible jokes that made you cry from laughter and Thor was so gallant in an old-fashion way that you almost felt as a maiden healing a White Knight.

And then there was Loki.

The first time you met the Asgardian prince you felt intimidated. Even though you already met the great earth protectors, Loki was something else.

He was tall. But that was not it. Thor was a big guy, for sure, but there was something about Loki that made you feel small. Maybe it was his gaze, cold and curious. Maybe how long and lean his limbs were. Maybe it was the asgardian outfit that made him look so regal. Maybe that voice, deep and seductive that made your knees quiver. Not that he talked much, he mostly kept to himself and never stayed in the lab much. Something about being a magical entity from another planet; he never got badly injured and was in and out without much fuss. And he really seemed to dislike you in some way, because when you tried to patch his wounds he always looked bothered. When you tried to get a closer look to one of his cuts, he always backed up uncomfortable. You tried to make conversation, to make things less awkward, but he merely responded with monosyllables and walked away as fast as he could.

He was a creature of mystery and he certainly intrigued you. You made your utmost effort to make Loki open a little bit. But he was incredibly guarded.

So when you arrived first thing in the morning to the medical floor and found Loki there, to say you were shocked was the understatement of the century. He was leaning against one of the shelves, hands in his pockets and tapping his feet as if he was growing impatient. When he looked up and found you there, you saw something even more shocking.

He smiled at you.

-Hello- You said tentatively, as if you weren't sure he was standing there, in the middle of the lab. More specifically, in your side of the lab. -Hello… Dr y/n l/n Right? - He bowed his head almost imperceptibly as he kept smiling at you. A small, soft smile that you'd have never expected coming from him.

-Call me y/n, please. Besides, it's not like we are strangers. - You were sure to see a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks before turning away from you, looking at some of the papers you had on your desk. -Yes, well… we were never properly introduced and it never seemed like the right moment when you were working. - He fidgeted with the documents and tossed them back against the cold surface of your desk.

-Well then, nice to meet you again Loki. - You realized that it was your first time adressing him in a first name basis. He turned around and looked at you lost for words, but he regained his composure in a blink of an eye.

-Bruce was talking the other day on the jet about some of your research, about new methods of healing metahumans. I thought then that I could be of assistance.

This was by far the first time you've heard Loki talk that much to anyone. He usually looked at you in what seemed annoyance. So now you were lost for a moment in what was happening. The God of Mischief talking to you? Offering help? Were you high on something?.

You looked at the cup of coffee in your hand, as it contained all those answers, then back at him in what you were sure was the most skeptical glare you've ever given to anyone. Ever. Loki's little smile faded and he tilted his head, as if he was trying to convey that it was your turn to talk. After a silence that lasted two seconds too long you snapped out of your musings.

-Em… Sure. How exactly? - You walked towards him and again, you felt a little out of place. At your own lab. What was about his presence that was so menacing and enticing at the same time?.

-While Thor trained with my father, I spent most of the time learning from my mother. Magic, enchantments… but also different ways of healing different ailments. Botany, herbalism, potions… You name it, I've studied it. I think I could make myself useful to you.- There was pride in his tone, boast… But also joy and endearment in that memory.

-Why are you offering your help? -That might have sounded a bit severe because that little smile that you were starting to like, really like, disappeared from his features and he looked down, all that confidence he exuded evaporating in less than a second. -I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound harsh. Is just that your offer first thing in the morning was the last thing I expected for today. Or ever. -As he sensed humor in your voice he straightened up, a little less confident this time.

-My brother and I had a talk… he advised me to present myself to be more useful for the team. -That sounded very noble and you didn't notice any trace of sarcasm in his words. But you had the feeling that that was a half-truth at best. But he was offering thousands of years of otherworldly advice and who was the idiot to refuse that kind of knowledge?

Turns out you were the idiot. The biggest idiot in the galaxy.

Loki's help turned out to be extremely valuable. He really had knowledge not only about earth modern medicine or Asgard medicine, but all you could ever imagine and more. And he really seemed eager to be in the lab and help.

It started with some briefings about your research, and Loki was blithely filling some of the blanks. His explanations were educational and very entertaining. It totally re-shaped some of your theories and you were really grateful for all the input he was sharing with you. After a couple of days you told him that you had enough information and that you didn't want to waste more of his time, but he then had the brilliant idea of retrieving samples of medicinal plants and other biological material that could help from missions and some of his travels. And by the second week you found yourself in a unique routine with Loki: Early in the morning, most of the time a bit before your shift started, Loki was already in the lab next to your desk coffee in hand. How did he know how you liked your coffee you never dared to ask. At first you just had to repress your laugh because it was so funny to see the very important royal prince of Asgard in just casual attire and a lab coat. Or it would have been funny if he didn't look so cute in it.

The white coat really suited his tall frame. There were times were concentrating was a hard task in itself because, how dare he look so good? That would not matter if it wasn't for the fact that you just discovered that you had a thing for big, strong, elegant hands like the ones Loki brushed constantly against your arm every time he wanted to show you something. Or how he sometimes leaned in a little too close to say something to your ear and that voice, that accent made you almost purr.

All of this would definitely be funny, but it really, really wasn't. Because turns out the taciturn, arrogant and secretive prince you met weeks ago was a sweet, charming, a little bit too cocky and extremely attractive man you enjoyed way too much working with.

As the weeks went on the pattern continued: he would explain how the last mission went, some of the details you could need and then you two would spend most of the day examining samples under the microscope or running some simulations on the computer. Loki would always stay near, which was reasonable because you spend all this time sharing information and hypothesis. But sometimes you feared it was too near, especially after a long day where you would be tired and the temptation to lean in and get lost in how well he smelled was getting out of your control. By the end of the fourth week you were finishing your days with cold showers and it was starting to become embarrassing. You just wish Loki didn't notice anything.

Because boy you had it bad.

The next week started with the Avengers going to some remote location to fight a small army of very dangerous aliens. So you knew you'd spend the day alone and you felt relief, because any day now you were sure you'll combust at his mere presence and today at least you were going to be able to work unbothered. But on the other hand, you missed him because you really enjoyed his sense of humor, or how he looked at you, eyes full of wonder, as you tried to explain something you had realized that day.

Again, you had it really, really bad.

Good thing you loved your work and the high-tech lab Stark provided. You spent the day taking test after test, which usually kept your mind focused. Before you could finish the last one of the day it was already dark outside and you planned to end your shift soon.

As you were writing down the lasts results and making some notes, Thor stormed in the lab making you jump out of your chair. He seemed out of breath, something you deemed impossible for the God of Thunder, and before you could ask what he was doing there he was grabbing you by the shoulders telling you that Loki was extremely ill and in need of your assistance.

-Thor, calm down. What happened? - He was scaring you looking so worried, grasping at your lab coat a bit too hard. -Loki was explaining that he knew about a very exotic medicinal flower he insisted you could use for your research. We found a big field full of them and as he was about to grab some there was an explosion. -Oh God, is he ok? Is he bleeding?- Millions of scenarios flooded your mind as you felt a heaviness forming on your chest. -The explosion is not the issue. It nocked him out momentarily, but he was fine. The blast destroyed most of the flower field and there was pollen everywhere. Loki was covered head to toe and he seemed to react badly to it. -Thor you're scaring me. An allergic reaction? Is that it? I'm sure a strong asgardian god as your brother can overcome something that benign.- You exhaled in relief. Loki was alive. He only needed antihistamine, at most.

Or so you thought.

Thor insisted he needed your help and led you to the other wing on the medical floor. You were taken aback when you noticed Thor was leading you passed the main hall and took you to the isolation rooms, where quarantines were conducted. The rooms were all white, with one of the walls clear so you could see the inside without stepping in. There, you found Loki sitting on the bed as you've never seen him. Disheveled, his alabaster skin blushing red and looking damp. His always pristine asgardian suit was wrinkled and the top completely opened, showing his chest and abs glistening with sweat. He looked feverish and you started to worry as he looked at you and panic took over his features.

-Thor, what is she doing here!? - Was he mad? You came here to help. You were dragged here to help. -I was told you needed my help. That you had a terrible allergic reaction? - If looks could kill Thor would have been exterminated in a blast of fury. Loki stood up and walk across the room. He then hit his fist against the translucent wall, making you take a step back. Thanks for Stark and his technology that could stand the rage of an alien God. -I told you I didn't want her here. Get. Her. OUT. NOW.- Now you knew something was wrong. You've never seen Loki so angry. So out of his mind.

And so afraid.

-Ok. What is happening here. What is that no one is telling me?.- You were looking at the both of them. Thor was chewing his lower lip as he tried to prevent something coming out of his mouth and Loki looked like he was planning both of your murders. -The reaction Loki is having… in not a common allergic reaction.- Thor was whispering at you, as if Loki wasn't clearly able to hear the both of you. -Thor shut up.- Loki kept pacing the room like a predator in a cage.

-Loki she could help you, you know what could happen if you don't… -Thor sounded worried as he tried to appeal to his brother. Your head was spinning with their interaction and the hundreds of scenarios. Was Loki poisoned in some way? Was it a biological weapon in disguise that attacked him? -I'd rather die than get help FROM HER.- And that made your racing mind go blank.

All this time spending time together, falling for his smiles, his light touches and the way his musical voice asked for your advice… And now the only thing he seemed to want was to get rid of you, as if your presence caused him disgust. He kept avoiding your eyes and after that outburst, he walked back to the bed, sitting with his hands covering his face.

You started to walk out back to the hall, but you didn't get far before Thor caught up with you and grabbed your arm.

-He really needs your help y/n.- Thor implored you as you tried to walk pass him. -He doesn't think the same Thor, and his botanical knowledge is vast. I'll bring Dr. Banner and the technicians to run tests on him. I'm sure he'll be fine.- As you tried to walk away, Thor stood in your way. -I know what kind of plant Loki was looking at. Is a common flower in Asgard an Norns knows how it got here on earth. -You could have started there! We could draw some blood and try to synthesize an antidote or… -But from Thor expression you knew that something was amiss. -Thor, please. What are you not telling me? -The flower in question is called Pāravaśyam. In small doses, it helps increase blood flow, which helps in some healing processes. It also can help steady heart rate. But… -…But Loki didn't get a small dose. -No, he didn't. The dose he absorbed was extremely high, and the effects are dangerous if not taken the correct course.

-In that amount, what would happen to him?

-In big doses Pāravaśyam is used as an… how you call it here on earth… Viagra?

-Beg your pardon?- Sure you didn't hear him right. Besides Thor was so new to Earth sure he was confused. In no way he meant…

-Viagra? The blue pills that get manhoods engorged and full of lust for hours?- Ok. Wow. You had so many questions. First, how on earth did Thor know so much about Viagra? But second, and most importantly… All of this was because Loki was, for a lack of a better term… horny? -Are you telling me that Loki is… -Engorged and full of lust? Yes. -I don't know if asgardians know about this, but here on earth we do a thing called "masturbation". Maybe I should bring a book full of instructions for your brother.- You really tried your best not to laugh. But then you thought about Thor's fearful expression and Loki's reaction after he saw you. And by Thor's unamused reaction you knew there was something else. -Y/n I'm afraid that won't suffice. Some asgardians plants have some sort of magic in them, and Pāravaśyam is no exception. Sexual release might relieve the symptoms, but the only thing that can cure the… condition is to breed with a beloved person.

After that you went silent. Your head full of white noise. Thor looked at you as he expected some kind of reaction, but you didn't know what to think. You tried to push the images the word "breed" elicited to your mind. Loki was nice to you, he saw you as a colleague, as a lab partner. But did he care about you? In any sense that matter?

-Thor, Loki is only helping me with research.- Your voice was so small, like you were talking only to yourself. -You mortals can be as thick as a Kronan. Why do you think Loki asked to help you in the lab?- Thor looked exasperated now, like this conversation was taking a toll on him. -You asked him to. -Thor's chuckle was not completely humorless, but it didn't reach his eyes as his laugh usually did. -¿So that's what he told you huh?. Please y/n. Just go and try to talk to him. His condition will only get worse and it could be fatal. If it's not you, somebody has to help him.

"Help him". That's a way to put it.

With that, Thor walked away, leaving you with so many thoughts and so many questions. You looked back, and in what you perceived as slow motion you went back to Loki's room.

He was still sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees and head down his hands. You saw his shoulders twitch and you knew he was aware of your presence. But he kept his head down.

-I told you to leave.- Her voice was low and threatening, catching you off guard for a second. -Thor told me about the flower. About the pollen.- You started to close your distance, closing the space between you and the clear wall of Loki's room. -Thor doesn't know what he is talking about. -Well, he told me about your… your situation.

Thor words echoed in your head: "Engorged and full of lust". You closed your eyes as if it could erase the painfully explicit image that formed in your mind. Damn the God of Thunder.

Your hand instinctively reached to touch the wall, as if somewhat you could appease Loki through the thick crystal. Lokis hands gripped the mattress as if the gesture pained him.

-Please, don't come any closer. -He still didn't look up, and you could see now up close that his hands were trembling. -Loki I just want to help. Thor asked me to help you. - The palm of your hand touched the cold surface, and Loki finally looked at you.

His jaw clenched, forehead full of droplets of sweat. His shoulders were up to his ears and his knuckles white gripping the sheets with so much force it was a miracle they hadn't shredded. His pupils were almost completely blown out, barely showing the blue in his eyes. If you could decipher the way he looked at you it would be with hunger. So much hunger.

-I said, don't come any closer. I…I can feel you through the wall. Please y/n… leave. -Why did you offer to help me in the lab? - Loki blinked several times, taken aback by your question. Lips pressed together, it doesn't take long before his eyes dart to the floor again. He realized that you have talked to Thor, and norns only knew what he had told you. -I told you about that my knowledge… that I wanted… -Loki stammered, unable to read your expression because he could only think of one thing.

And is all the things he wants to do to you.

-Thor didn't ask you to, did he?. - Looking at him, seeing Thor's reaction earlier, remembering the first time you saw Loki in the lab… You knew in that moment that Loki's motivation to help you wasn't the selfless reasoning he gave you that first day. You just saw that so clearly now. -I wanted to help you.- His hands stopped grabbing the fabric to end again covering his face. And that bothered you so much because all you wanted was to see his reaction. To see what he was feeling.

To see him look at you with so much desire again.

-Why did you tell me that the first day? Why lie?. -You would have asked about my reasons. And lying was the preferable option. -Loki, what was the reason… -Because I wanted to spend time with you. Because every time I ended in your table examining my injuries, asking me questions all I could think about was how soft and small your hands were, and how good it would feel having them all over me. How sweet your voice sounded or how you always smelled like orange blossom and that drove me insane. So I offered you my help under false pretense. I thought spending time with you would alleviate my infatuation, but I was so wrong. The way you smiled when you explained some detail about your work, or how you bit your lip when you were frustrated. It was the most delicious, beautiful torture I've ever endured in my long life.- He looked up, his pained expression, making a knot in the pit of your stomach. -This is humiliating. This is not how you were supposed to find out. I wanted to ask you out, court you properly… and now… please y/n. Just leave.

And there you were, all this time thinking you were alone in your feelings. You felt elated to know Loki felt this way about you, but you knew that this confession, it was all wrong. He didn't want you to know about this. He felt exposed and vulnerable. He wasn't himself, he was under the influence of some cosmic toxin and he was suffering. And you didn't know how you could, or if you could. But you really wanted to offer some comfort.

So you walked towards the door, slowly turning the knob.

When you entered the room the first thing to hit you was the smell. It smelled like Loki: fresh peppermint, sweet spices and leather… but so much more intense. It was intoxicating. You felt the immediate need to press your thighs together, but you ignored it. Loki jumped out of the bed, walking backwards until his body was pressed against the furthest wall from you. He kept his hands in his back, as if he was afraid he could reach you from there. His breathing turned more elaborate and all you wanted was to end his misery.

-Y/n, please just… - He looks so concerned, so contrite.

Is he afraid of you… or for you?

You stepped closer, slowly. You knew what he needed. And your body ached to touch him, to hug him, to make him feel better. You feared that your intentions weren't selfless, you have been attracted to him for weeks and now he needed you, your body, and even though you saw him at the brink of hyperventilation, trying his best to remain in control… you just wanted him. You craved for him. Knowing that you were the only cure, for him to consume you, to satiate his lust for you was making your core ache.

-Please y/n, don't come any closer. I…I can smell your skin, I can almost taste it from here. I don't know what is going to happen if you touch me. I don't want to hurt you. I… -But his voice died in his throat as you cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb feeling the soft skin under his eye. -You won't hurt me. Let me help you Loki.

Your voice was merely a whisper as you close the distance, pressing your chest against his. You felt his erection against your belly, his length pulsating against you even through all the layers of clothing. You stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his, barely touching them. You were waiting for his reaction, for him to push you away.

But in a swift movement your back was against the wall and Loki was pining your wrists above your head. Before you could wrap your head about what just happened his mouth was on yours kissing you hard, his tongue demanding and his teeth pulling your lower lip making you gasp. His mouth was divine, his tongue moving expertly like he could not get enough of your taste. Before you could catch your breath, his hand found the hem of your t-shirt. It rested flat against your stomach and stayed there, his fingers flexing slightly. His lips started a trail its way from your mouth to your ear. He then sucked, hard, against the skin below. His breath was hot and you could hear a lump in his throat, his voice struggling to come out.

-Y/N… tell me you are sure. Tell me you want this… because I'm afraid I won't be able to stop If I keep touching you like this.- His voice was so soft but so full with need it made your core clench, feeling empty and desperate. Even in his state he still cared about you, enough to make you feel safe. He still needed your consent. He needed to know you wanted this. Him.

That somehow made you dizzy with desire.

-Yes, Loki. Take me… please.

With that you kissed him again, relishing on how soft his lips were, on how good he tasted. His hands went up under your shirt grabbing your breast firmly, wasting no time in pulling down your bra and palming them until your nipples were hard. Your head was spinning feeling his body so pressed to yours, his touch everywhere and his mouth relentless. His lips travelled from your mouth to your neck, sucking and biting so hard that you were sure he was leaving all kinds of marks on your sensitive skin.

Once his mouth found the collar of your t-shirt, his hands ripped it in half in one swift movement, exposing the warm skin of your chest to the cold air of the room. He then buried his face against your breast, his tongue tasting your skin. You arched your back trying to feel more of him and he took the opportunity for his hands to find the hook of your bra and tearing it off. He started to lick long and slow strokes, first one breast and then the other over and over again. His tongue was adamant against your nipples, swirling and lapping every inch of you, making you roll your eyes back as pleasure invaded your senses. His hands descended to your waist, pinning you in place as you felt his body descend and falling to his knees.

Loki was on his knees, in front of you. That was a sight you'd treasure forever.

His hands were gripping your waist before his fingers found the button of your jeans. Without taking his eyes from you he undid your button and you heard the metallic clicking of the zipper. His mouth was on your navel, nibbling his way to your exposed hip bone while his hands tore off your trousers and the rest of your underwear, discarding them with the rest of your now destroyed outfit. You felt his gaze roaming all over your exposed body, taking you in, and you started to feel a little bit self-conscious, your hands instinctively trying to cover yourself before Loki stopped them.

-You are so fucking beautiful. - His eyes never left yours, his face so closed you could feel his breath against your belly button. -Your mind is full of toxins and I'm pretty sure your judgment is clouded.- How did you manage to speak a full sentence in that moment was a mystery, You guessed the logical part of your brain never slept. -I always thought you were stunning. So alluring and so sweet… And I always wondered if you tasted as sweet as you looked.

And without any warning his hands grabbed your hips and his mouth was on you. His lips parted your folds and his tongue started lapping fervently, flattened tasting everything in its path. You felt your knees quivering on the verge of giving up as your mouth fell open in a silent cry. Lucky for you Loki had superhuman strength and had you pinned to the wall keeping you at place. His tongue swirled rapidly around your clit and that feeling followed by the wet and obscene sounds he was making while eating you, were making your head spin and your hands grabbed his head for support. The moment his mouth started sucking, his tongued never leaving your clit, you felt the familiar knot forming inside you tensing fast. You were a panting mess, and every flick of Loki's expert tongue getting you closer to your release.

The moment his lips sucked hard on your swollen clit your body snapped, shaking uncontrollably, your orgasm so intense that you could only feel your core clenching, asking for more as the wave of pleasure travelled through your body like fire kissing your skin. And it lasted so long, too long, because Loki refused to stop his movements. Even when the sensation verged on overstimulation. Your mind went blank for one second, eyelids still full of fireworks when you felt your feet not touching the floor anymore, and your body being moved carefully.

You were still trying to steady your breathing when you felt your back touch something soft. When you opened your eyes you saw Loki, taking off his clothing harshly, almost ripping it off his skin before joining you in the bed. He positioned himself above you, his hands partying your legs, kneeling before you. That's when your eyes found his cock, big and dripping with precum. His head was dark pink and looked smooth to the touch. Your hand thought so too because it wasted no time in grabbing him and feeling it pulsate against your hand. The moan that escaped his throat was obscene and went directly to the apex of your thighs making you even more soaked.

Before you could move your hand so he'd make that sound again, he grabbed it and kissed your palm. You were almost sure you felt his smile against your skin before he lowered himself and kissed you, his lips devouring yours as you still tasted yourself on his tongue. You were giddy with lust, craving to feel his cock buried deep inside you. His tip found your wet lips and you whined, longing to feel more of him. He stopped kissing you and you felt his mouth descend to your shoulder, peppering kisses everywhere in its path. Your hands started to caress his back and that's when you noticed he was trembling. His whole body was shaking.

Loki was holding back.

-Loki… -You felt him tensing at the sound of your voice, his cock twitching against you. His face still hidden in your neck. -Tell me this is ok y/n. Please… tell me you want to be mine.- His voice was merely a whisper struggling to come out and your heart expanded almost bursting your chest. Even in his state, even after devouring you five minutes ago and giving you a Richter's scale 10 orgasm, he was pleading you, still needing to make sure you were ok.

You took his face between your hands and looked at him. His eyebrows were almost touching, knotted with worry and his eyes glistening. He was in agony, so close to you and yet not allowing himself to lose control.

-Y/n… please- His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.. You could hear him all day calling your name like that. But today was not that day. -Yes, Loki… I'm yours.

He positioned himself and started entering you, inch by inch, streaching you like you've never been before in an agonizing slow pace until he was buried inside you. You cried at the sensation, overwhelming and intense as he made you feel completely full. The pleasure was mixed with a little pain and you were gasping, trying to take everything he was giving you. His forehead was against your shoulder, as if he was trying to hide his pleasure from you. Both of you remained still, Loki trying really hard to give you time. By the way he was breathing you were sure he was at the brink of snapping and fucking you with his full force. Your cunt was gripping him hard and as the pain subsided your hips started moving of their own volition.

-Fuck y/n.. you are so tight… I can't…

With that he started moving. He proceeded to remove himself entirely to rapidly thrust inside you hard. At first his rhythm was languid, relishing on the raw sensation of his member teasing your narrow slit, entering you slowly making you whimper. But his need for you was getting more desperate, the overwhealming feeling of your naked form pressed against him, your hands gripping his shoulders, your moans filling his ears, it was all too much. And by the sounds he was making, and how he whispered your name like a prayer against your neck, you knew he needed release. Gripping your knees, he opened your legs completely wide and started pounding deeper, frantically, reaching a spot inside you that made your head spin. You felt the familiar coil in your lower belly building again fast. Your hips started rolling against his, looking for even more friction, to reach your release that was burning your nerves in the most exquisite and tortuous way. You felt his cock twitching and you knew he was close too.

-Y/n… I'm not gonna last, I need you to come now- He was struggling to talk, plunging into you with so much force you could hardly realize what he was telling you. One of his hands reached down, barely rubbing your clit, once, twice before making you scream his name. -Loki I'm coming, ImcommingImcommingImcommingImcomming… GOD!

Your back arched as you felt your body combust. Your core was clenching hard in your release, making Loki come hard, thrusting into you mercilessly prolonging your orgasm. You felt him spilling inside you while he kept moving in long strokes without slowing down. That brought another devastating wave of pleasure that ripped you apart. You felt all the nerves in your body going on overdrive. And then your brain was suddenly filled with white noise.

When you returned to earth the first thing you noticed was that Loki was heavy. Not that you were complaining, his weight covering you was something you found comforting. His forehead pressed against your collarbone, you noticed his breathing going back to normal. You felt lightheaded and in a weird state of bliss. Both of you were silent, recovering your breaths and you found yourself starting to worry. Now that he got the toxin out of his system, would he regret it? What if he thought you took advantage of his vulnerable situation? All the things he said before… was that the pollen? Was it him? Both?

-I can hear you thinking from here. - At some point between your musings he lifted his head so he could look at you. His eyes drifted to your mouth and his finger brushed the lower lip that you unconsciously were biting.

And then the silence crept again. He was looking for you, waiting for you to say something. Were you supposed to say something? What was supposed to be said in this situation? You've never had life or death poisonous flower induced sex before.

-Did I hurt you? - His eyes were darting across your features, as if he could fathom what were you feeling.

You shook your head, your voiced trapped in your throat. He looked at you, sadness covering his features and you started to panic.

-You regret it, is that it? - It was more an affirmation than a question, and you felt his body trying to move away from you. Now that you have discovered how amazing his body felt pressed to yours, how amazing he smelled even after all the sweating and… No. You were not having any of that.

So before he could move you wrapped your legs around his hips. A long sigh escaped his lips as his eyes were again on you.

-I don't regret it Loki… it's just… -He looked somewhat confused and hopeful while you searched for the right words. How he could look so adorable after fucking you senseless was a gift from the ancient Gods of Asgard, you were sure of it. -What? You didn't like it?

That took you by surprised and you supressed a laugh. "Like it" could not cover the mind-blowing ecstasy he had given you. You took a long breath, trying to gather your thoughts. He needed answers. You needed answers. And it was truly distracting how beautiful he looked, head against your chest with big blue puppy eyes.

-I think I was quite clear in showing how much I was enjoying myself-His chuckle vibrated through your chest and you smiled, because how dare he doubt anything after what he did to you. -So what is it then? -Well… lets say this is not how I pictured our first kiss to be like. Or the first time we slept together. Or our first anything really. If anyone this morning would have told me that by the end of the day I'll be having crazy-monkey-flower-induced sex with you in one of the isolation chambers I would have called security.

His whole body relaxed against you as he propped himself with his elbows, hovering over you, noses brushing and you could see his smile wide and with a hint of mischief.

-Oh, but you have pictured me seducing you? - It was impossible not to blush as he smirked at you playfully. -Erm…

You turned your head, unable to meet his gaze, feeling a rush of shyness. One thing was being fucked into oblivion to safe his life, and the other was to confess that you have been harboring feelings for him for weeks, daydreaming about his small smiles and light touches. He grabbed your chin making you face him again, his thumb brushing under your jaw.

-I imagined fucking you on your desk every day for the last two weeks. I was hoping to ask you on a date after we arrived from our mission. But then… -His thumb released your lower lip again from your teeth and you smiled at him.

So at the end you both were idiots falling for the other. For weeks.

-Was it as good as you imagined? - Your arms embraced him, a wide smile spreading across your face. It was weird how much you were enjoying this new intimacy. -So, so much better. - This time he kissed you gently, taking his time as his fingers brushed against your cheeks. -Would you allow me to court you properly?- You sighed blissfully. Who would have thought that the God of Mischief was so soft. -I'd love to. But I'm afraid that we can't keep working together. -Why is that? - His eyebrows almost touched his hairline as he looked at you confused. -Well…for starts, I could never concentrate working on my desk next to you ever again.

And with a big smile he kissed you again.

-----------------------------

People asked me to tag them WHAT: @andromedaa-tonks @donaweasley @mochie85 @sarahscribbles

#loki fic #loki smut #smut fic #loki #loki x reader #sex pollen #loki smut of course #loki x y/n #loki god of mischief #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki odinson smut #loki odinson x y/n #loki odinson x you #mcu loki #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki layfeson

[marvelmaniac2000]

Non spoiler: Ok soooo... I went in watching Loki S2 Ep.1 without noticing the queer baiting everyone is talking about or whatever pandering????

Like honestly I'm so fixated on the storyline and the cool multiverse thing that makes you wanna rewatch it twice. Marvel really has been sucking lately and Loki is literally the only show that is damn near keeping the humanity of it all 😂💀 So far I'm enjoying it for what it is. Some people really just need to relax in my opinion.

#fanfic #love story #writing #marvel #marvel universe #loki season 2 #Loki #loki x reader #loki smut #tom hiddelston loki #owen wilson #mobius #I didn't know this was a physics course

[villainousshakespeare]

Therapy Fit for a God Chapter 24

Loki/OFC Rated E: Trigger Warnings: Smut, Sex, Oral Sex, Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved, drinking

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @ghostypau @ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @mareebird @colorfulfreakstudentpizza  @szycha22 @chokemedaddyloki @queenofallhobos @just-the-hiddles-reads  @alwida10  @justjoanne242 @chantsdemarins @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokiprompts @evieplease​

It had taken a satisfyingly short time to convince Thor and their mother that he was not going to be delayed in returning to Midgard. Friga had wanted to summon Eir and attempt to repair the sieve that they had made his memory. Thor had babbled some nonsense about danger if he set foot in the mortal's fortress. Loki had ignored them both with ease. The threat, made with just the right amount of intensity, that he would use his own weakened powers to access hidden paths to Earth were enough to have them both agreeing to bring him there themselves by a less strenuous route.

Loki didn't understand why they didn't just have the Gatekeeper open the Bifrost to the compound where this mortal woman was at present, but Thor was rather insistent that a stealthier course was called for. This was such an aberration from his brother's normal tendency to barrel in hammer first that both Loki and Frigga were quick to acquiesce, although their mother looked a little uneasy with the method it left to them.

"You do still have the Tesseract I assume, brother?" Thor had asked.

Another wave of sensation had rocked Loki, and he had to steady himself physically to avoid falling once again.

The Tesseract. Yes, the name filled him with something that was not quite comfort, but yet still offered a sense of relief. It was as if an escape card had been slipped into his pocket. It made sense; from what he knew of the Tesseract, container of the Space Stone, it could carry someone of sufficient mental strength to command it anywhere they wanted to go. One of the primal forces of creation, nothing he knew of would be able to stop it from taking him to Earth or anywhere else.

He had it?

Loki closed his eyes and mentally reached into his pocket dimension, paying much more attention than would usually be required in order to retrieve an item tucked away. He felt the auras of his usual items: knives, quills, paper, armor, anything he might need in his roamings, and dismissed them all. There were a few things he had not remembered adding, such as a rose-colored parka, some sort of projector, and a pair of sorcerous handcuffs. He would have to explore more later to see what else he had acquired in his missing days. There! in the midst of all the objects was a gently glowing blue cube that emitted a powerful aura.

Loki had pulled it out into the night air and held it aloft. How had he come to have one of the building blocks of the universe in his possession? It was yet another mystery to be solved. Right then however, he had been too concerned with the first problem. Who was this woman, this mortal of all things, who filled him with such a sense of need that he was willing to put his health at risk in order to find her and assure himself of her safety?

"Oh Loki, the Tesseract?" Frigga sighed in a voice he had been hearing his entire life.

"Apparently," he shrugged, tossing it up and catching it just for the effect. He couldn't have them realize how off his game he truly was after all.

"Give it to me, you are in no condition to use it."

"Mother -"

"Do not try to dissemble with me! You can barely stand on your own accord, how do propose to control an artifact of such power? More like than not you would end up on some random moon if you tried on your own. If you want to go, and must go now, then you will let me provide the guidance. End of discussion."

When it came right down to it, he had not been feeling at his best, and if there was any person he trusted to turn over such a weapon to it was his mother. Reluctantly he had handed the cube to Frigga and seen her breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thor, you know where this place is where Loki's friend is being kept?" Frigga asked in a brisk tone.

"I believe so," Thor answered. "My guess is that friend Stark should have been able to keep her in his rooms, rather than seeing her put into the prison."

"His rooms?" Loki growled, not liking the sound of that one bit, even though he had no idea who the person they spoke of was.

"A very large suite, Brother," Thor hastened to assure him. "Several rooms. In any event, you need not fear. He is only a little fellow, and a mortal, though fierce in battle."

"I fear nothing," he had said automatically, still not liking the situation Thor presented.

"Alright," Frigga had cut through their discussion. "Each of you place a hand on my shoulder, like when you were children. Thor, I am going to enter your mind; visualize where this woman would be for me. As much detail as you can. Loki, no over-extending yourself, but gently reach for me. That's it. Now, brace yourselves my sons."

The teleportation had taken more out of him than Loki cared to admit. Frigga's firm arm locked with his had been all that kept him steady as the terrace around them disappeared and reconfigured itself into some sort of sitting room filled with human furniture in silvers and grey. He was grateful for her discrete support and shot her a quick look of thanks while Thor shook off the trip like a pet emerging from a lake.

Too late he had reached for the Tesseract, only to see Frigga turn her wrist and remove it to her own impenetrable storage with a smile that dared him to protest. Well, that too would be a battle for another time. He had to find this person. This doctor. His heart screamed that everything else was second no matter how much his intellect told him otherwise. It was extremely irritating.

"Where is she?" he had demanded of Thor, looking around and not seeing anyone.

"Calm down Brother," the note of ill-concealed amusement in Thor's voice rankled to no end and made him itch for his knives. "I told you the suite was large. She should be here somewhere, assuming Pierce didn't kill her."

And then a dagger had been in his hand, and a snarl escaped his lips. If anyone had laid so much as a hand on her, he would make them long for an easy death.

"Loki, control yourself," Frigga had snapped at him. "And Thor, show some respect for your brother's feelings. I am sure that this Doctor Thorpe is safe and near. Ah, I think I hear voices coming from that direction. Thor, perhaps you should lead, since you are friends with the Mortal who's home we have invaded."

Loki had showed his opinion of that plan by roughly pushing past his brother and wrenching open the door out of the room. He could hear the voices then, though not what they were saying. One was low and masculine, the other had a bell like quality that went right to his heart. It was her. He would bet what remained of his soul on it. He had to see her. Once he did, everything would be right again.

Charging down the corridor, he had come at last to another room with couches, chairs, and a low table, artwork decorating the walls. He hadn't seen any of it. There, seated on one of the couches, had been Her.

He had known the minute his eyes clapped upon her. A relatively small woman, she was dressed in a grey sweatshirt several sizes too big for her that was rumpled and unflattering. Her hair, a mess of snarled curls, was tied up on the top of her head somewhat crookedly, several large chunks falling down at random. Deep, dark smudges shadowed her eyes, speaking of sleepless nights and tearful days.

Loki had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

He had stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight of her eyes. They were red and watery, but that could not disguise the sharp intelligence and, even more breathtaking, the kindness that shone forth from them. Those eyes, he had thought in a brilliantly clear moment, could take all the sorrows in all the world and make them bearable. Compassion, acceptance, and humor glinted in their bottomless depth. He wanted it, all of it, for himself.

Which made the fact that at that very moment they were shining on someone else, someone who was clasping her hand and smiling back at her, absolutely unacceptable.

An intense haze of red colored all before him. Loki did not know who she was, but he knew with a certainty beyond anything else that it was his eyes she should be staring into, his hand that belonged in hers. He would kill this worm of a Mortal for daring to touch the match to his soul. Menacingly, his grip on his knife tightened.

"If you want to keep that hand," he spoke quietly from the doorway, "I suggest you remove it from my Lady's. Now."

***

That voice, low and filled with menace, was the most wonderful sound she had ever heard.

Caroline's eyes flew from Matt's face over to the entrance. He was there. Standing in the doorway to the sitting room was the only man she would ever love. For the first time in over a week, Caroline's heart seemed to beat once more.

"Loki," she said, his name and nothing more, rising to her feet.

"In all my glory," he smiled, eyes moving over her.

Caroline felt a momentary pang of embarrassment for how she must look. Since the horrible incident she had taken the bare minimum of interest in her personal appearance, only doing enough so that her friends would stop hounding her about it. As her eyes took in Loki, however, she forgot her own state as his registered in her mind.

Loki had always been thin, although Caroline knew firsthand how much lovely muscle was hiding beneath his clothing. Now though, his cheeks were hollower and the soft green tunic he wore seemed to drape loosely on his frame. His beautiful pale skin contained even less color than before if that were possible, and his sharp eyes betrayed the slightest hint of exhaustion.

She had spent quite a bit of quality time with her alien prince; Caroline knew how carefully he guarded his appearance. If he was showing visible signs of fatigue, then he must have been in a bad way indeed. He was alive yes, but he had been hurt, grievously, and it was all her fault.

"Loki, I am so sorry," she stuttered, taking a step but not daring to approach closer. "I swear, I never meant to hurt you."

An odd look flickered across his face, and she realized that his eyes, which had become open and shining when he looked at her during their time together, were guarded once more. Of course. How could she expect anything else? She had shot him, almost killing him. Their relationship could not be the same.

"Doctor Caroline! You are here!" Thor bounded up to stand next to his brother. "You see Loki, I told you she would not be killed or incarcerated."

"I am relieved to see that you were right for once," Loki's eyes had still not left her face.

"Pierce tried, by Tony insisted on keeping me here," she said, wishing he would open his arms for her but not wanting to presume. "I guess for once the rich having undue influence worked in my favor."

"Ah, well I suppose I owe you thanks then," Loki's voice did not sound particularly friendly.

To her surprise, she found that his eyes turned away from her to gaze improbably to Matt with an open hostility.

"No, Brother, that is not friend Stark," Thor whispered loudly in Loki's ear. "I know it is difficult, as most Midgardian males look the same, particularly the smaller ones. I myself have made similar mistakes in the past."

"Matt Murdock, attorney," Matt said, extending his hand.

Thor shook Matt's hand with enthusiasm, but Loki only looked at it. Matt waited a moment, and then pulled it back with a shrug.

"I take it you are the Asgardians," he said.

"Oh, yes. Matt, this is Loki and Thor. Princes of Asgard," she didn't know what Loki's feelings were for his family at the moment, but he and Thor seemed to be forming a united front.

"Although they are not acting like it at the moment," a female voice dripping with disapproval added.

Caroline tore her eyes away from Loki with an effort to see a tall woman come up to stand beside him. To call her beautiful would be an understatement. Tall and regal with intricately styled red-gold hair, the woman personified grace. Caroline at once felt even more bedraggled in comparison.

"Forgive us, Mother," Thor lowered his head, but Loki kept his green eyes flickering between Caroline and Matt.

Mother. This was Frigga, Loki's mother and Goddess in her own right. Of all the times to be introduced to her, Caroline could not think of a worse one. Not only did she look like a street urchin, but she had committed an act of violence on the other woman's son.

"Your Majesty," she said, dipping her head since there was no way she was going to try a curtsey.

"Ah, so you are Doctor Thorpe," Frigga said, giving Caroline a quick once over that she was sure saw every inch of her.

"I am."

"My son has been anxious to see you. I am pleased to make the acquaintance of one so dear to him, although I could wish the circumstances were different."

"I'm honored."

"You are honored, she is pleased," Loki drawled, looking around the room. "Now that we are done with that, all of the rest of you to go away."

"Loki!" Frigga chastised.

"Very well," Loki said with a melodramatic sigh. "I would very much like for everyone to kindly leave Caroline and I alone. Now. Better?"

"Barely," his mother allowed. "Very well. We will wait in the next room."

Frigga turned and departed with an encouragingly smiling Thor. Matt began to follow, but stopped at the last minute, putting one hand on Caroline's shoulder and looking disconcertingly straight at her.

"You'll be okay?" he asked her.

"Far more than you will be if you keep insisting on touching what you shouldn't," Loki said dangerously.

"I'll be fine," she lied, thinking she was like to combust on the spot.

"I'll be right next door," Matt ignored him. "My hearing is excellent, so just yell if you need me. Loki, it's been educational."

With an ironic twist of his expressive lips, Murdock followed the Asgardian contingent out. Caroline noticed the way Loki's glare tracked him, and she felt a horrible surge of excitement. Surely if he was that unhappy with Matt's attention to her he couldn't have completely written her off.

The door shut, and they were alone. Caroline stared at Loki in exquisite torture as he remained silent. She had hoped and wished for nothing more than to see him again, alive and well. No matter what happened, she would be forever grateful that he had survived the blast she had shot him with. Still, it was hell to be so close to him and not touch him, not assure for herself that he was real and there and whole.

Finally, when she thought she might explode, Loki walked the few short steps and stood looming over her. One of his long, elegant fingers traced the side of her face, and Caroline let out a trembling sigh at the contact. His eyes, hooded and revealing nothing, captured hers and seemed to bore deep inside her soul, looking for something. She would have happily given him anything in that moment, if he had only named. it.

"My love," he said at last.

Just those two words, but Caroline let out a sob nonetheless, throwing herself into him and tightly wrapping her arms around him. Loki smiled, lifting her chin and claiming her mouth for a long, desperately needed kiss that nourished her more than any meal could ever do. He did not hurry, letting his hands explore her body as his tongue did the same to her mouth. It was searching, like his gave had been, giving her the chance to relearn how it felt to be in his embrace. When he finally pulled away, it was to sink down onto the sofa, bringing her down next to him. She felt at home and safe at last after the nightmare of the past days.

"So, you are Caroline," he mused, looking at her. "I am relieved to know what good taste I have."

As she stared at him in shock, Loki burst into manic laughter.

#Loki fic #fan fiction #Loki/ofc #romance #memory loss #post Avengers Assemble #Loki gets therapy #love #angst #smut in previous chapters #Thor #Frigga #Matt Murdock #snarky Loki #Loki has issues #Tesseract #reunion #the course of true love

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

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

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

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

*

The next several hours are a blur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Or that was your plan, anyway.

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

The room is much colder at night.

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

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

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

But you also have to pee.

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

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

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

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

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

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

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

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

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

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

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

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

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

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

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not yet. Not yet.

*

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

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

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

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

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

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

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

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

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

“Please,” you breathe.

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

“Don’t stop,” you say.

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

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

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

You whimper, your hips rocking.

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

“I need to come,” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it working?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

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

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

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

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction

[earlgreydream]

His. | Loki x reader smut

I finally the Loki tv show… this does NOT have any spoilers, it’s set on Asgard with a newly appointed king and his coronation gift…

cw: d/s

“Leave any traces of fear in this room.” The command was clear, spoken sharply by a royal attendant.

Your gaze didn’t leave the fragrant water of the bath you knelt in, the attendant taking care to wash every inch of your skin. Other women pulled fluttering silks from a wardrobe, lying it out for you and finding jewelry to match. So much led to this moment, and yet it didn’t seem real — anticipation and anxiety buzzing in your head. You’d been told once already to contain the obvious fear that lingered in your chest, but the daunting task of doing so seemed impossible when your fate was waiting on a silver platter, the moment you left the private chamber you were being bathed in.

“Come, out of the water before your skin wrinkles,” you were hauled to your feet, wrapped in towels and rubbed down by several girls with movements so quick, you were barely left time to react.

Hands massaged your tense limbs, covering them in oils that bloomed with exotic scents, leaving your skin gleaming. At the same time, your hair was fixed, emeralds — his favorite — twisted into the locks and fastening to bare your neck.

“It’s customary to dress her in white,” a handmaiden spoke of you as if you were not there.

“The prince prefers black.” The will of your all-powerful god silenced any protest, everyone moving to do his bidding.

The women fretted — you had to be perfect for him. They prepared you to be presented to the god, as a divine gift to honor the crown prince of Asgard. You were bathed, decorated, and dressed, all to please the god you were gifted to, an expectation that you’d been bred for. It was a great honor to be taken from the hills, to the castle of the gods, to walk amongst the divine, even if it meant your role was to do as your master saw fit, obeying every command. You had come to terms with it, knowing that upon prince Loki’s rise to the throne, you were the sacrifice — the gift — of the kingdom, a promise of good fortune and favor granted in return.

It all seemed like a far-away, distant dream in a future that would never come. Despite that, here you were, relinquishing your whole self to Asgard’s throne. You had never met the god, and never seen him up close. Of course you’d heard the stories, the wrath and prowess of the young prince, and even seen him from a distance — but being in his presence was something entirely new, before being expected to spend the rest of time at his mercy.

Asgardian silk draped over your skin, so light you wouldn’t know it was there. Your decency was concealed beneath expensive black fabric, hiding what was only meant for Loki to see in the moments after this. The handmaidens’ fussing finally ceased, ending the long evening of preparation.

“Come with me, and do as you’re told,” the woman in charge ushered you forward, opening the chamber doors, releasing you out of known captivity into unpredictability.

You swallowed the fear in your throat, steps silent as you followed her to the throne room, the festivities growing louder as you approached your fate. Before you were given a moment to hesitate, you were led into the cavernous room of gold and heavenly magic.

All at once, it fell silent as soldiers escorted you to the throne. There he was — the god himself, draped over his golden throne. Loki was the only one adorned finer than you, a golden helm atop his onyx waves, wild cerulean eyes that bore straight into your soul.

“Your majesty, a gift in exchange for your benevolence,” the ceremony’s representative from your kingdom presented you to Loki, a hand on your shoulder forcing you to kneel before the throne.

A dangerous smile curved the god’s lips, placing his scepter aside as he rose to his feet.

“A very generous gift indeed,” Loki’s lyrical voice wrapped around your throat, stealing the air from your lungs.

He was impossibly tall and lean as he approached you, toned muscles visible even through the heavy layers of leather and gold that adorned his figure. Loki was no mere prince, but a god of mischief, holding an entire world in the palm of his delicate hand. A dark mischief glittered in his eyes, the gorgeous royal leaning down to look closely at you.

He tilted your chin up, looking him directly in the eye, immediately disarmed and vulnerable as you did so. His expression changed almost imperceptibly, gone from his eyes in a flash as he looked away from you, addressing the court who had handed you over.

Your ears were ringing too loudly to hear what he said, your head spinning. A solider moved to guide you to sit at the base of the throne, at Loki’s feet, when you were suddenly snapped back into the present moment.

“You will not lay a hand on what is mine!” Loki’s shout thundered through the chamber, stopping the man before he could touch you.

The soldier quickly fell back, recognizing the lethal danger of disrespecting Loki. An entire room held its breath, the seconds agonizing, exhaling only when Loki motioned for festivities to resume.

Despite the advice to hide your fear, Loki could practical feel your startled fright. Everything else blurred into the background, the celebration entertaining itself, leaving you and Loki at the center of your own universe.

Loki leaned down with an outstretched hand, his expression softening as you met his gaze. He had not yet spoken directly to you, but you didn’t need instruction to place your hand in his, allowing his strength to move you forward. Loki guided you to kneel at his feet as he resumed his place on the throne, slotted between his long legs.

Delicate fingers gently tilted your chin to look up at him, the touch startlingly gentle, a stark contrast to what you’d been warned of.

“There is a long night of festivities ahead, you may rest on me if you grow weary,” Loki granted you permission to lie your head against his thigh, to sink back into the new shelter.

You gave a small nod of understanding, looking back down as his attention was demanded from another round of celebration.

Despite the dizzying commotion of Loki’s ceremony, your limbs became heavy and keeping your eyes open was a losing battle. Loki peered down at you as you slowly laid your head against his leg, letting your exhausted body rest for the first time.

A fierce desire to protect you swelled in Loki’s chest, suddenly cross with the noise and lights that combatted your sleep. As he continued to entertain offerings of exotic fruits and tributes from his kingdoms, Loki moved a leg in front of you, glaring at anyone who so much as looked too long in your direction.

He couldn’t imagine how drained you were, to sleep through the chaos. Your weight rested against his leg, though you didn’t let yourself fully drift into deep sleep, some part of you making sure that you were upright, not wanting to displease him.

Loki carefully supported you as he stood, lifting you off the floor with godly strength. The festivities continued without him — kings, gods, and valkyrie reenacting stories of battles and playing with magic in the great halls.

He’d had quite enough of the noise and empty affection, and desired nothing more than some quiet time alone with his offering.

“Careful,” he warned softly as you began to stir, strengthening his grip to keep you from falling.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, your first words spoken in a haze of exhaustion.

“It’s alright, you’re free to rest,” Loki laid you down on his bed the moment you entered the privacy of his chambers.

Golden floors were etched in sweeping illustrations of history and mythology, telling the stories of your god beneath the bed draped in dark green silks. Huge doors opened to a veranda, a summer breeze ruffling the curtains, allowing glimpses of glittering astronomy overhead.

Your mind yearned to stay awake, to learn your surroundings and stay vigilant in the presence of Loki. Despite that, your body screamed for sleep, sinking into the soft bedding he had placed you on.

.

Loki watched you sleep.

Exhaustion kept your body rigidly still, not moving once the entire night. You stayed curled up in the very corner of the expansive bed, out of reach of Loki, who eventually took his place as the sun cracked the horizon.

The only indication you were real, was the gentle rise and fall of your back as you breathed. As you slept, the frightened expression vanished from your face, softening the your features. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your almost peaceful face.

Loki drifted in and out of sleep, not bothering to wake you after such a late and overwhelming night. You must have been weary, because you couldn’t have been comfortable, making yourself as small as possible at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up too much of Loki’s space.

You slowly opened your eyes, sunlight streaming in through the open veranda. The morning seemed impossibly peaceful, despite waking up into a new life of servitude. This didn’t feel like what you’d expected — waking up in a comfortable bed with the warm sun on your face, the scent of breakfast wafting from a huge spread on the chamber’s dining table.

“Good morning, darling,” Loki’s voice was much softer in the privacy of the chambers, without an audience.

You sat up, looking over as he stood from a couch, setting aside a novel. He was more relaxed, wearing loose black linen, his hair tied up loosely.

“Hi,” you whispered, at a loss for words — partially in awe of how gorgeous he was, and partially cautious, as if he were a cobra waiting to strike at any wrong move.

He watched as you observed your surroundings, inspecting your golden cage in the light of day. Loki’s chambers were beautiful, bright, and serene. It seemed so divorced from the perception you had of the god before being let in to the most private part of his existence. Loki moved smoothly throughout the room, delicate hands attached to a lean, muscular body. Loki’s face was sculpted out of marble, so stunningly beautiful it left you breathless. Green eyes pierced straight into your soul, laid bare when he looked at you.

“Eat something,” he gestured to the feast at the table, as if he were the devil, offering food to a goddess to keep captive in his lair forever.

It was your job to obey, your body moving before your mind even considered protest. The shimmering gown you were wearing the night before swept the floor as you walked, Loki admiring how beautiful you were, even slightly disheveled.

You hesitantly took a berry from the table, bringing it to your lips, licking the sweetness off your fingertips. The sight stirred something inside of Loki, his gaze focusing on the contours of your body that were visible through the just-sheer parts of the fabric draped over you.

“Master?” You could feel the weight of his gaze, invisibly drawing you to him.

Loki stepped toward you, pleased as you sank to your knees without any encouragement, easing into his submission. You wanted it, needed it, like your lungs needed air. A shimmer of green made your clothing disappear, baring you fully to Loki’s intoxicated gaze.

“Look at you, fit for a god,” he praised, slowly circling you as you kneeled, appreciating you from every angle.

“Only for you, master.”

“Loki,” he permitted you to call him by name, a request that pulled the corners of your lips up with small satisfaction.

The floor was cold beneath your knees, and your skin began to prick beneath a cool breeze from the veranda. Loki swelled over the recognition that you were his, and his alone. He was hard in the loose linen pants, eager to claim full ownership of you in such an intimate way. You willingly surrendered to him, practically desperate for him to take you, to consummate your submission to the god.

Your hands smoothed up the solid muscles of Loki’s thighs — limbs you wish to be bent over — before clutching the linen waistband and dragging down his trousers. The sight of him hung heavy made your mouth water and your cunt throb, desire swirling in your belly.

“Go ahead. Touch me as you please, I’m as much yours as you are mine,” Loki murmured, realizing you were waiting for permission, to do as you were told.

Long fingers wove into your hair, cradling the side of your head, pulling only slightly as you licked the tip of his cock, sending a shock up his spine.

He leaned back against the wall, smirking as your left palm flattened over his toned abs to brace yourself, pleased that you were trusting his words.

“Gods,” Loki swore when you took him in your mouth, letting him push you down until he was filling your throat.

Pretty tears welled at your lashes at his size, your throbbing need beginning to smear between your thighs. Your free hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your tongue dragging up his shaft. He was both long and thick, his skin like velvet on your tongue. It was a feat to take even half of him in your mouth, and you moaned and the thought of him fucking you, and how you’d beg to take it all.

“If worshipping my cock makes you wet enough to drip on my floor, I’ll let you do it every morning,” Loki purred with a grin, clearly taking notice of the effect he had on your body.

“Please,” you whimpered respectfully, dragging your fist up his length, giving your mouth a break.

“I’m close, darling, you’re doing beautifully,” he praised, watching your thighs squeeze together at his words.

“I want to come in that gorgeous mouth, feel myself in your throat.”

You tilted your head back just a bit, both to gaze up into his eyes and to let him in deeper. A low whine vibrated around his cock as his hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing.

“Fuck,” Loki hissed, spilling over into your mouth, filling your senses with his salty taste.

“Swallow it,” Loki commanded, and you were all too willing to obey, wanting to please him.

His thumb swiped over your lips, cleaning up the bit of mess he made, kneeling in front of you as you both caught your breath.

“Was that okay?” the question slipped out before you could stop yourself, puzzling Loki.

“Of course, it was perfect. Haven’t you done it before?”

“No, I’ve been kept pure for you,” you answered, earning a profane string of Norse as his dick twitched.

“You’ve made me insatiable,” Loki pressed a quick, messy kiss to your mouth that was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“No!” Loki shouted, standing up, displayed in his full glory to the guard who opened the door.

The furious god stood in front of you, blocking any eyes from catching even a glimpse of your body.

“Get out, now, or I shall have your eyes torn out!” Loki thundered, fiercely possessive over you.

“I’m so sorry, your highness. Odin has called on you—”

A sharp burst of Loki’s magic sent the man flying backward with a yell, the door slamming shut behind him.

“I’m sorry-” you began, as if you needed to apologize for being nude.

“I will never let anyone else touch you, see your body, or covet what is mine.”

A warmth spread through you at the words, taking his hand to stand up. He took a cloth, carefully cleaning you up, before guiding you into a closet that was full of the finest Asgardian fabrics.

“We’ll continue this later, darling, but for now, you’ll accompany me on whatever nonsense I’m being summoned for,” Loki explained, moving to dress himself as he left you to choose what maids had left for your arrival.

You chose green, pleasing the god as you adorned his colors, another sign of your growing devotion. Loki kissed your wrist, before a band of gold appeared in a shimmer, bringing a smile to your face.

He wordlessly led you out of his chambers, a hand at the small of your back. Being with him was intense — but the castle and all of its people was overwhelming. You found yourself leaning into Loki’s side, away from the noise of shouting and chaos of the everyday happenings.

He looked up from the throne to see what was bothering you before pulling you to sit between his legs where you could sink back into him and ignore the noise.

“We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished. Until then, you can entertain yourself by picturing what I’m going to do to your precious little pussy,” Loki whispered against the side of your face, gently nipping your ear.

You shuddered against his chest, feeling him chuckle beneath you as his arm tightened on your waist. Warmth flushed your cheeks and you turned your face into his arm, shy at the filthy words from Loki. He could feel your heart racing inside your ribs, anxious to tear the emerald gown from your body.

You were lost in your thoughts when Loki banished everyone from the expansive throne room, giant doors embedded with gemstones slamming shut, sealing you alone with him.

“Now, where were we?” Loki asked, mouthing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I believe you were about to fuck me, Loki,” you chirped.

“I love hearing those dirty words on your lips, all for me.”

“Only you,” you promised, closing the gap as he hovered above you.

The kiss was heady, his tongue warm and dominating as he pushed it past your lips. The sensation nearly distracted you from his hands, that were tearing the fabric around your torso, letting it flutter to the floor in shimmering pieces.

“I’m going to fuck you here, on this throne, like a proper king.”

You parted your legs, letting his hand drop between them. Loki smirked into your neck as he cupped your sex, feeling how wet you were, desperate for him as heat radiated from your center.

He didn’t bother to turn you over, perfectly happy to fuck you while you were on top of him, lying on his chest as he sat upon his throne. He glided his cock along your wet lips, only a moment until you were squirming with desperation.

He wanted to hear you beg, but even he couldn’t wait any longer, slowly sinking into you, every inch stretching you impossibly further. The sweet sting made you cry out, your head dropping back on his shoulder when he nestled himself fully inside you.

“You’re perfect for me,” Loki praised through gritted teeth, fighting not to slam into you like an animal. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, muscles burning as they were forced to take the stretch to fit him inside — and you loved it.

You doubted anything would ever feel so good, until his hips started to roll forward, the god fucking you deep and slow, holding your body against his chest. He buried his face in your shoulder, soaking up your squeals of pleasure as he lost himself in you.

Before he even thought to play with you, your cunt began to clench around him with an impending orgasm. Your startled whimper shot straight to Loki’s dick, and he fucked you harder, unable to help himself.

“Come around me, darling, let me know how good you feel,” Loki urged, nearly spilling into you as you trembled in his arms, coming with a scream that echoed off the walls.

“There you go,” he murmured, twitching before he filled you with his seed, painting your insides with him.

Your breaths were ragged and uneven, mind completely foggy in the aftermath. He breathed in your scent as he stayed inside you, preserving the moment for as long as possible.

“I’m yours, forever,” you whispered, as if reading his mind.

#loki smut #loki #loki avengers #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut oneshot #loki imagine smut #loki imagine #avengers #marvel #loki fic #loki fanfiction #avengers au #loki fluff

[lokisgoodgirl]

Teenage Dream [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A trip to Asgard means a visit to Loki's childhood bedroom - and his teenage fantasy. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ only. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Smut. Body fluids etc etc. Language.

“This is your childhood bedroom?!” Loki’s arms spread wider, turning in a lazy circle as you gape at the high ceilings and golden cornicing. Open archways lead to a balcony which runs along the full side of one wall, Asgard sprawling below in afternoon sunlight. It’s huge.

“What did you expect?” Loki shoots a lovingly indignant look over his shoulder. “Some kind of hovel-sized quarter the kind of which Stark has bestowed on Lang?”

His boots thud in quick succession on polished marble before he jumps through the air and lands on the modest queen-size with a bounce – a hand balled at his temple. The sheets have clearly been replaced since he last laid in it, but old habits die hard. The green and gold of his colours is in full effect in this room from the curtains to the tapestries and the quilt draped across the mattress. “Lie with me,” he says, looking up through his lashes. “Please?”

Something about seeing Loki dressed in his, what he still calls, ‘Midgard garms’ suddenly seems ridiculous in one of Asgard’s royal bedchambers. A pair of tight black jeans cling to his muscles, denim shifting as he draws one knee over the other to rest on the bed. His forest green t-shirt has ridden up at his lower stomach, a victim of the obscene measurements of his stretching body. He chuckles lightly, making a thick line of his obliques tighten as he slips his fingers further into mussed hair. "I told you I was a prince," he says sheepishly.

You make your way to the bed and he flips to his back, releasing a happy groan as you straddle him. His eyelids droop, a flash of his upper teeth as he bites his bottom lip. "Frigga will be expecting us," you say as you roll your hips against his crotch. "Uhhh...gods-" he grunts, large palms rubbing up your thighs tight on either side of his chest. ‘Frigga can wait. I said I would give you a tour, and give you a tour...I shall.’ "Not from down there you won’t."

You yelp as Loki sits up and his lips fasten to yours, hand cradling the back of your head and forcing you in a violent kiss. He bites your bottom lip, sucking out gently. You moan softly as his hands begin to rub your thighs again. He’s needy. The sentimentality of bringing you Asgard for the first time is doing a real number on him. Your fingers run down his neck, down the hard dips and ridges of his abdomen through the t-shirt.

“I used to pleasure myself in this bed, dreaming of a woman like you-” he says huskily, beginning to thrust upwards. The painfully tight erection bursting against denim rubs against your gusset, toying back and forth. You feel a swell of arousal web between your folds as your eyes dart towards the open door. Just a crack, but it’s enough. The guards are never far in the palace it seems, even for a Prince who’s all grown up.

“Say more,” you tease. It’s a whisper, but it seems to echo. Loki chuckles quietly into the curve of your neck before he tips you easily to the side. You meet the mattress with a bounce, your head disappearing between the crevice of two plush pillows. Loki’s long form rises above you, impossibly rectangular, spread on his knees, the denim screaming around his crotch.

“It may come as a surprise to you that I was an awkward young man,” he starts, riding up the hem of his t-shirt. His leather belt sits maddeningly at the dent of his hips, perfect alabaster skin of his stomach flashing into view. “No!? I would never have guessed...” you joke, surprised at your ability to think straight as Loki’s shirt pops over his head. He throws it away, skittering gently across the marble floor. His eyes flash mischievously.

“But I had urges, of course; fucked myself night after night like a demon; elaborate fantasies formed in my head with excruciating detail.” He falls forward against the pillows, the bulge of his shoulders tensing as he cages you.

“I wouldn’t let myself cum until every detail in my head was perfect,” he breathes, letting long tendrils of hair drag against your throat in time with the filth of his dulcet syllables. “Again and again. It was enough to drive a young man to madness.”

“Did you ever have-?” you start, cut off by a pathetic moan as Loki drags his bound cock against your clit. “Never," he whispers. "This bed is as virginal as myself when I left it.”

The warm glow of his magic pulses from his skin. Loki’s jeans are gone, replaced by a green silk robe open at the waist. It's Asgardian craftsmanship, that much is obvious. Gold weaving edges the hem, its age betrayed only by the sleeves which are a little too short. The sage shimmer melts into the wave of his hair, and for a second you can’t bring yourself to believe there wasn’t a line forming outside his bedroom every night after he came of age.

He rests back on his haunches between your legs, flipping out the robe at the nip of his taut waist. Loki’s eyes smoulder, waiting for you to ask.

“Which one do you want?” you say. It times perfectly with a twitch of his proud cock as he draws a finger back and forth along its length. His chin dips and a small smile creeps at the corner of his lips.

Loki raises a hand, a theatrical snap of his fingers making the ceiling height door to the chamber swing closed with an almighty clang. Even under normal circumstances, doors don’t close quietly in the palace; it is by design.

“My goddess riding me,” he says, raising his gaze to yours. “Then once I’ve filled her, she crawls to my face; smothers me with her perfect, dripping sex; calls my name so loudly in ecstasy that my brother hears it all the way in the taverns.”

Your brows raise. “That’s quite specific.”

Loki shrugs. “I told you. It needed to be perfect. I spent a lot of time thinking about it.” You shuffle up on the pillows, curling one side of his silk robe in a fist and pulling his mouth to yours. He manoeuvres around, lying back against the pillows with bright eyes while you crawl on top of him once more.

“Are you my sweet virginal Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes. Loki snickers. "If you like." “I do.” “Aright then,” he sniffs. “Although I should warn you, for a virgin – I am rather an expert.” “Shhh-” You press a finger to his lips. "I read a lot of books," he explains with overly-earnest eyes, muffled against your finger. “Let’s get you some practice, then..” you whisper, rolling your hips up the length of his cock. Loki whimpers, brows slanting. You can't tell if that part is for show. With a slip of his hand against your ass you feel your dress dissolve, the nip of a breeze through the open arches making your nipples stiffen. Loki’s head leaves the pillow and catches one in his mouth as your hand guides his cock between your legs. You rub the tip against your slit, slipping back and forth as guttural groans roll in his throat.

"My virgin Prince," you coo.

Loki’s head falls back to the pillow, a warning brow rising. But his eyes sparkle. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock; each hard inch of muscle tugging against your walls as you settle to the hilt.

“Every time you do that,” Loki rasps, “it’s everything I ever dreamt of in this bed, I swear.” You flatten a curl of hair back from his forehead, rocking your hips back and forth. His hands slide up your waist, cupping your breasts as he pants beneath you. A vein in his neck throbs as he grits his teeth to the ceiling. He won’t last, not today. And that’s just fine.

You press his shoulders down, limiting his thrusts. If he wanted to, he could overthrow the touch in an instant. But he wont, not today; not in this bed. Every time you reach the tip of his cock you squeeze and his lips part; every time you sink him deep into your cunt they press together, like he doesn’t trust himself not to howl. The squelching is louder now. The moaning, too. You and Loki have fucked many times, in many places – in every conceivable position, each time you think you could never be more aroused, he proves you wrong. But something’s different about him here. When his beautiful eyes open, the dark fan of his lashes seem to pop against the vibrant blue ringing blown pupils.

Loki’s fingers sink deep into the plump of your ass. He pulls in time with your rhythm, drawing the flat of his feet up. In seconds, he sits up to meet your mouth; his tongue lapping against yours with quiet desperation. Your fingers run down his abdomen and you feel his stomach clench.

“Fill me, baby-” you whine into his open mouth, “show me what Asgard’s finest cock can give me.” Loki grunts in pleasured anguish, thrusting in erratic shudders as he erupts inside your heat. The angle is tight. Fresh seed creams at the seal of your slit and wells around the rim of his half-sheathed cock as he comes undone with a ragged exhale of your name. He captures you in a messy kiss, falling away from your mouth to your chest before collapsing back to the pillows. He squints with one eye, a lazy hand beckoning. “You sure?” There’s an unusual shyness in your voice. Loki nods with a wolfish, lopsided grin; drunk on sex. You shuffle up his abdomen, feeling a thick roll of hot cum settling against your inner thigh. Your fingers curl around the wooden headboard, Loki’s large palms settling on your ass and keeping you high. His head tilts, warm tongue tracing your inner thigh and sucking his seed from your skin. A violent shiver of desire rolls down your spine, making you thrust towards his face.

“I’ll try my best-” he purrs in character from between your legs.

His eyes are all you can see as his tongue outstretches. They disappear as he dips further back, running his warmth between your folds. He tilts his chin up, a white pool collected on his tongue. Loki of Asgard looks up from bottomless eyes, the planes of his cheekbones sharpened. You shoot down and jam your tongue into his open mouth. His cum swirls within the kiss, mingling with the earthy taste of your own pussy – swallows and moans and filth sliding down your throats. Loki gasps loudly as your kiss breaks with a slurp. “Was that in your fantasy?” you ask innocently, resuming your position above his head. “I regret now, that even in the depths of my teenage depravity, it was not,” Loki growled, squeezing your ass-cheeks. He nudges you closer. “Now, finish me,” he orders as he pushes you down against his face. The flat of Loki’s tongue meets your plump clit. Each flush and fat stripe of the muscle has no pretence – he intends to make you climax; and climax hard. Your nails dig into the headboard, scratching down pristine oak lined with gold. Images of Loki as a virginal youth rear in your mind, thrashing in these sheets, under this very ceiling, twisting and unravelling beneath the beat of his fist. Your thighs begin to tremble, held steady by his fingertips sinking deep into the curve of your ass. Loki’s tongue is relentless; it swirls and captures every flush of sparking orgasm and tends it with the next lap of his attentions. Before long, your legs tense – and somehow, one of your hands has tangled in his hairline, pushing him deeper, his nose slotted perfectly at the lip of your mound. The sight is all it takes. “Loki-” you choke, punctuated by a final devastatingly soft lick of his flat tongue over your sex. “Mmrph…” he grunts, brow furrowing. You hold your breath as climax shatters you, the exhale a strangled sob of his name that sings around the ceilings and tumbles out the archways.

You collapse on his chest, the two of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of fresh sweat clings to his skin. You trace the angle of his jaw, smiling as a dream-like peace descends on his features. “Do you think Thor heard?” “From Midgard? I doubt it,” Loki sighs, letting one of his legs fall open to the side. He’s hard again. “But I can let that part of the fantasy slide. Everything else was...perfection, my love.” You prop a fist beneath your chin. “Maybe we just need to try harder.”

“Fuck harder, you mean?” Loki says, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “You did promise me a palace tour…” you say, drawing your knuckles up the velvet skin of his cock stretching against his stomach. Loki’s smirk grows wider.

Tags (continued in comments)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @thevillainswhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki marvel #loki x you #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #lokismut #loki x you smut #loki imagine

[simplyholl]

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.”

Tags

@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

#loki #loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader smut #loki x yn smut #loki (marvel) #loki fanfiction #loki tom hiddleston #loki marvel #marvel loki #mcu loki #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki au #truly desperate

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Touch Tank

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)

Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.

He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie

***

You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.

"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.

"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.

"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.

"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"

"Aw we're gonna miss you!"

"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.

"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"

"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.

"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.

"I see."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.

"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.

"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.

"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.

"Do you want them now or at a later date?"

"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."

"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.

"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.

"Yes but only a little one."

"A little one?"

"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.

"Why?"

"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.

"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.

"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."

"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.

"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.

"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.

"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.

You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.

*~*~*

"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.

"What?" He rolls his eyes.

"Are you busy?" You ask.

"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"

"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.

"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.

"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"

"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.

"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.

"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.

"How short is short notice?"

"We need to be there in forty minutes."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.

"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.

"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.

"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"

"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.

"Ready Lo?" You ask.

"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.

"What?"

"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"

"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.

"And how is that going?"

"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.

"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.

"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.

"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.

"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.

"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 

"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.

"They have more open tanks of creatures?"

"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.

"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"

"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.

"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.

"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.

"You bribed me."

"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."

"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."

"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.

"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.

~*~*~

You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.

"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.

"It's 3pm y/n."

"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.

"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."

"You've been coming here a lot lately."

"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"

"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."

"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.

"Very funny." Loki scoffs.

"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.

"Must you be so-"

"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"

"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.

"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.

"Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."

"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.

"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you always do."

"Do what?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.

"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.

"Mother." He gets her attention.

"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."

"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.

"What troubles you my dear son?"

"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.

"A woman? Do you feel for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.

"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.

"Have you considered that you feel for her?"

"How would I know?"

"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"

"She lives here so yes." He nods.

"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.

"What?"

"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."

"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."

"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.

"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.

"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.

"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"

"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."

"What makes you think that?"

"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."

"I resent that notion." He scoffs.

"What made you contact me?"

"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.

"She was with you Loki?"

"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."

"What did she say?" Frigga asks.

"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."

"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"

"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.

"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"

"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."

"Tell me about her."

"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"

"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.

"Why are you smiling like that."

"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."

"My heart is very much still-"

"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."

"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.

"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."

"You keep saying that-"

"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."

"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.

"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.

"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.

"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."

"What if she is not waiting?"

"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."

"I do not get in my own way."

"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.

"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.

"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."

"Of course mother. Take care."

"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.

*~*~*

When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.

"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.

"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.

"You're sitting on the couch?"

"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.

"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."

"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.

"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."

"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."

"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." You hum.

"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."

"Well don't let me bother you then."

"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."

"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.

"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."

"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.

"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.

"You know our coffee shop?"

"Around the block?"

"Yep!" She nods.

"What of it?"

"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."

"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.

"Cassie told me."

"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.

"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.

"I'm eating a sandwich-"

"Not right now, tomorrow morning."

"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.

"It's Elliot."

"Oh he's cute-"

"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.

"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.

"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.

"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.

"Hello." He mutters.

"What brings you out of hiding today?"

"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."

"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.

"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.

"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"

"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.

"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.

"No, I don't."

"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.

"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."

"You said I look constipated!"

"Well you do! But only a little bit!"

"This is not going at all how I planned it?"

"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.

"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."

"Easier to do what?"

"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.

"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."

"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.

"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.

"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.

"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."

"I am far from incapable." He says.

"So spill it." You push.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were."

"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.

"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"

"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.

"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.

"You." He whispers.

"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.

"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.

"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."

"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.

"No? It sounds like it."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"

"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.

"Is that what you want?"

"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.

"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."

"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."

"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.

"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.

"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.

"Yes was I not clear about-"

"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.

"You vex me." He breathes out.

"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."

"Don't boast."

"How can I not?" You ask.

"I can think of a few ways to stop you."

"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.

"How's that for sway?" He smirks.

"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.

"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.

"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.

"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"

"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"

"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."

"Precisely."

"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."

"Do you not like gentle?"

"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.

"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.

"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.

"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.

"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.

"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.

"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.

"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.

"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.

"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.

"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.

"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.

"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.

"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.

"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."

Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.

"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.

"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.

"Well what is?" You ask.

"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.

"How am I the tricky one here?"

"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."

"What fox? Are you the fox?"

"Mhm." He nods.

"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.

"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki smut

[angelltheninth]

MCU characters having a wet dream about you?

About me, oh I'm so flattered, I would explode. As would all of you I'm sure.

Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Loki, King Valkyrie, Shuri, Xu Xialing, Kate Bishop, Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, wet dream, morning wood, kissing, cuddling, naked cuddling, cold showers, blowjobs, teasing, fingering, cunnilingus, morning sex

A/N: Put in a whole lot of characters in here. In other news Ant-Man was fun. The jello alien was my favorite.

Steve will try to say that he was just having nightmares, not moaning, of course he wasn't moaning. Must have been one hell of a nightmare if it gave him that big of a boner. Nah, that's just... morning wood, just that... well, fine, he was always a pretty bad liar, at least to you. He's pretty embarrassed, you just started dating and he's already getting hot and bothered with you just sleeping next to him. If he's this hard just from a dream a part of you can't wait to actually have his cock inside you. You can wait for that, as long as you get to tease him about this.

Bucky has no way out of this situation. He was pressed against you as the two of you slept, you can feel his cock against your ass when you woke up. He doesn't let you turn around and see how red his face is right now and tries to distract you. His bulge is pretty hard to ignore, given how it pulses and twitches in need against you. You'll gladly help him take car of it, he just needs to let you under the covers. You won't make a mess, and if you do you're more then happy to clean it up. This kind of talk is doing nothing but reminding him of his dream. Is he even awake? Well it doesn't matter when he gets to feel your mouth around his cock, sucking him off with gusto.

Sam quickly gets out of bed and scrambles for the showers. No need for you to get up and join him, he'll take care of this by himself, and then he'll talk to you about this. He could hear sounds from the bedroom while he was in the shower but he thought it was just his mind still playing tricks on him. Upon walking out he finds you with your legs spread, fully naked and inviting him to tell you all about his dream. You'll gladly share yours too. It might actually be filthier then his.

Clint couldn't believe this happened now. He has a mission to get to in half an hour. He's not embarrassed about the dream, why would he be? You're gonna be married soon, but the timing is just very inconvenient for him. Any other day and the two of you would have joked and laughed about it before getting down and dirty. His eyes widen when you push him down and take your panties off, you have half an hour right? You can make him come in half that time. Clint smirks at you, his rough hands settling on your hips. After this he better finish, or else he's never gonna hear the end of it.

Natasha does not shy away from it. She's been used for her feminine charms for a long time, not in control. When she does feel horny for you, no matter what time of day she is always honest about it with you. That goes for her wet dreams about you as well. In fact when she wakes up and you notice what she's been thinking about you she will lean and whisper what she dreamt about. She's not shy about her desires around you, and neither are you around her, it's not just her whose horny. You've had a more then your fair share of dreams about her.

Thor isn't shy about it at all, he's had this happen before many times although this is the first time it happened with you sleeping next to him. He sleeps naked most of the time anyway so there's a big cum stain already forming on the sheets as he wakes up from it. You've seen him with morning wood before but you never asked if it was prompted by a dream or not. You've had your fair share of your own, and some did start just like this. Oh? He'd love to hear more about these dreams of yours. Better yet, why don't you show him? And then he'll show you.

Loki is the one who ends up teasing you about it rather then the other way around. He's got his magic swirling around the two of you, pulling you close to him and into his lap, depicting scenes from his dream, in great detail too. It makes his cock even harder when he notices that you're rubbing your legs together as you watch the images dance before you. He's already hard, and by the looks of it you're quite wet yourself, so won't you bend over for him, let him do away with both your problems.

King Valkyrie kisses your neck as she holds you close, still dreaming, deep in her sleep, saying the filthiest things to you, riling you up without even knowing it. When you can't take it anymore you shake her awake, your face flaming hot, no, your whole body as well, most notably between your legs. She's never had much of a filter around you, there was never any need to so why would she start now? She takes your had and presses it to her pussy, letting your fingers feel the wetness as she does the same to you, her middle finger already teasing your entrance. You ease onto it before you even know it, bracing on her shoulders to ride her hand to your orgasm.

Shuri is only embarrassed by it because she knows that there is a chance that guards might come in and see her being so horny for you. The two of you have fooled around before of course but always with the door closed. Now she's only in her shirt and pajama bottoms, a wet stain on them. If anyone were to walk in there would be no doubt as to what she was dreaming about. Thank god you were still asleep so she can just change and get back to cuddling with you. She's still horny as hell from the dream but she can wait until you wake up and then lock the door to be sure.

Xu Xialing almost chokes you when you try to wake her up, thinking she was having a bad dream. Only when you're under her do you feel how wet she is, see how blown out her pupils are and how her eyes keep flickering to your lips. Ah, so it was a good dream then, very good judging by the state of her. She lets you go, apologetic of her actions, not the dream but of choking you, she would never do it without your consent. Well... she has it now. With a knowing smirk she takes off her tank top and underwear, letting you see how sticky and wet they are with her slick arousal. Before she gets to choking you she wants to get you ready for some other things she has planned.

Kate wants to sink into the bed when you question her about it. Yes, it was a wet dream about you, no it wasn't the first time she had it. She's blushing hard, avoiding your eyes as you try to coax her out of her hiding spot with cuddles and kisses and teasing words. Would it help if you told her about your wet dream? Now that gets her attention, yes, it would help a lot actually. She would love to know if your dreams are... compatible. Just to see if your tastes match of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that she's slipping further and further between your legs as you talk, making it nearly impossible for you to get words out as she licks and kisses your increasingly wet pussy.

Peter is very careful when he slips out of bed, he makes sure you're not disturbed by him. Little he know that you're awake but you let him do what he needs to and come back to bed. You trigger his spider sense when you jump him, giggling as you push him against the bed and grind in his still noticeable hard on. Why didn't you say anything? He's been dying of embarrassment this whole time, and now again, only worse because you're staring down at him with those knowing eyes and still, fuck, still rubbing against him in the best way, getting him fully hard again in no time. This time, you will do something about it.

#mcu x reader #mcu x female reader #mcu smut #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barns x reader #sam wilson x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #king valkyrie x reader #shuri x reader #xu xialing x reader #kate bishop x reader #peter parker x reader #marvel smut #marvel x reader #marvel x you #mcu x you #mcu imagine #mcu headcanons #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 

That was sure to go over well.  

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn. 

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

[sserpente]

A "Happy" New Year indeed 🥂🎇🍾🎆

Synopsis: Tony gifted you all a trip to the Bahamas to spend New Year's on the beach. Even Loki was invited but when no one else wants to spend time with him, you gather the courage to act on your secret crush on him until you end up sneaking away together...

A/N: Et voilà, just like that, I turned a couple older requests from @mandywholock1980, @frzntrx and anon (I’m so sorry for the delay) into a little treat for New Year’s Eve. “Slide well” into the new year tonight as we say in German! I’ll see you guys next year with lots of book news and of course, more Imagines! Thank you all for your love, for your comments, your kind words when you send me requests, for your likes and your reblogs and this year in particular, your patience! I appreciate you all so much and that’s almost 24k of you at this point! So crazy! To an amazing 2024!

Words: 2556 Warnings: smut, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2

Where is that damn bathing suit? You’d packed it, right? You knew you’d packed it. It was on top of your suitcase so you wouldn’t forget. With a sigh, you rummaged through the clothes you’d brought, creating an utter mess in the process.

Holidays with the Avengers. Hallelujah. No wonder you were so worked up. It certainly wasn’t every day you unwrapped a neatly folded plane ticket to the freaking Bahamas on Christmas morning, a “little” treat from Tony Stark who had flipped the ice-cold temperatures in New York City the bird and booked you all a trip to the other end of the world.

Seeing both Steve Rogers and Thor topless was a delectable sight—not to mention how absolutely gorgeous Natasha looked in her black bikini. You felt self-conscious about yourself, to say the least, but the hilarious part was that it wasn’t because of a bunch of shredded superheroes; it was because of a very mischievous prince who had the very essence of the multiverse coursing through his veins.

The kiss had been… incidental. Rules were rules and Tony had been very clear about all the damn mistletoes he’d hidden across the tower and it was Thor who had not let either of you leave until you fulfilled the silly tradition. Ironically, it had been Loki himself who’d caused all that attention around the mistletoe all those years ago. He only had to blame himself but heavens… he sure knew how to kiss.

And just like that… there you had it. After spending Christmas, or Yule, as he liked to call it, Loki had—unbeknownst to him—managed to make you fall for him. He, who just so happened to have become the most powerful being in the entire universe; or multiverse, in this case.

There it is. The black bathing suit you pulled from the pile of clothes, at last, was your favourite, complimenting your body shape in just the right places. You’d already caught yourself wondering on the plane what Loki would think when he saw you in it. After all, he was a god. He’d met a number of goddesses and princesses, not to mention a stunning female version of himself. How could you, a mere mortal woman, possibly impress him? Hell, you didn’t even have superpowers. Nothing that would grab his attention. Perhaps you should have brought the mistletoe and steal another kiss. Perhaps you could get him drunk so he wouldn’t remember your heartfelt confession if he didn’t reciprocate it. Or maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all and keep the cheeky God of Mischief an exciting fantasy in your head. You’d totally not named the green and gold vibrator you had bought as a Christmas present for yourself after him… you would never do that…

Despite the fact that the Avengers were slowly—really slowly—warming up to the idea of him being around, Loki was alone when you joined the others at the beach. He’d conjured a green blanket with a gold rim to sit on in the blazing sun, his dark green trunks leaving nothing to fantasy. Although he wasn’t nearly as shredded as Thor was, godly strength aside, you were certain he could haul you into the air and one-handedly fling you across the ocean if he wanted to. Or maybe do push-ups while you were sitting on him…

“Hey.” You sat down next to him without waiting for an invitation, your gaze flicking over to the gang playing volleyball in the sand. “I don’t understand…”

“They hit the ball with their bare hands and fling it across the net. If it lands on the ground on the opposite end of the field, their team scores,” Loki said matter-of-factly.

You chuckled. “Not the game. Why are you not playing?”

“Please. This is hardly the most enjoyable place for a Frost Giant,” he replied. His voice was just as icy as the tale he was telling.

“I see… I’m sure no one would mind if you returned to the hotel until it’s dark. It’s gonna be a long time until midnight still.”

Loki scoffed. “Of course, they wouldn’t mind. In fact, they are likely hoping for it.”

“Well, maybe you can tell Thor—“

“Thor is making things worse. My brother has always had quite the talent for ignoring me when he’s with his friends. I am not going anywhere.” You could practically hear the unspoken words: I’ll stay out of spite and sulk.

“Okay then. But maybe you should wear sunscreen. The sun’s pretty aggressive in these parts of Earth.”

“I am a god. I don’t get sunburned.” Indignity swung in his smooth voice as he lifted his chin in defiance.

“Are you sure? At least sit in the shade then. If you’re uncomfortable, I’m sure we can find you some ice.”

“No”, Loki spat, earning him a frown.

“Hey, what’s with the attitude, Trickster?”

“This is ridiculous. I have a multiverse to look out for and Stark had nothing better to do than reduce me to… to…”

“…someone he’d trust enough to bring on holiday with him?” you offered.

Loki glared at you.

“You still feel like you don’t belong?”

Another glare.

“I don’t. Not with them. The only reason I am here is because of Thor who has conveniently forgotten I am even here.”

Your glance found his pale back as he spoke. Loki sighed.

“Would you feel better if I put this… sunscreen on?”

“I would, actually. You don’t wanna start the New Year as red as a crab. You should be blue,” you said, chuckling at your own joke.

“My true form might scare away the other hotel guests.”

“O-oh. No, I meant… blue as in drunk. Wait, so your Frost Giant form is… you have blue skin?”

Loki nodded. “And red eyes.”

“Damn… can you willingly control that? How you look?” You grabbed the sunscreen bottle from your beach bag and squirted a small amount in your palm. It caught fire the very moment it connected with Loki’s bare skin. Heavens… had he just… flinched?

“Odin put an enchantment on me when I was an infant. I could turn if I wished but it mainly triggers if I touch Jötun artefacts.” He didn’t seem all too delighted by the idea.

“I see.”

Quickly, to not get carried away by your fantasies, you rubbed the sunscreen on his back and shoulders and then offered him some more for his face which of course, he declined.

“Well… It’s gonna be a long evening. As soon as Tony brings out the schnapps, you can forget about reasonable conversations.”

Loki smirked. “Thor brought Asgardian ale. They will be unreasonable long before that.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

You shuffled a little closer, careful not to sit in an awkward position and look at least a little sexy. “Do you plan on getting drunk?”

“It’s the beginning of a new year. Hardly a reason to celebrate.”

“Hmm… probably not if you turn thousands of years old. Still, living the life we do, we should be grateful for every year we’re still alive.”

Loki scoffed. It was easy for you to say, of course. You didn’t carry the entire multiverse on your back.

“I’m going for a swim. It’s getting a little too warm for my taste,” he announced.

You nodded, watching how Loki stood, strolled across the beach, and all but jumped into the ocean. You had to close your mouth to make sure you didn’t start drooling over him. Unfortunately for you, Tony sauntered over the very moment you picked up your jaw from the floor.

“You have a thing going on, don’t you?” the billionaire said. It wasn’t a question. In fact, you were quite certain he didn’t even expect a response.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve had dozens of women look at me like that. You want my advice? Stay away from him. Loki is trouble. I don’t care if he’s the harbinger of the multiverse now.”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I can take care of myself,” you replied with a flat voice. “You could ask him to join you guys, you know. He was sitting here like a pile of misery.”

“He is a pile of misery. And how is this my fault? He could have asked to join too.”

“He shouldn’t have to,” you shot back. Checkmate. Tony sighed, shook his head and, after taking a huge gulp from his water bottle, returned to the volleyball field.

Alright then… if they were not going to celebrate New Year’s with Loki, then you would. You didn’t like beach volleyball anyway.

Loki had been right about the Asgardian ale. You’d been curious to try it and mesmerised by the taste. By dusk and only one small cup later, you were drunk. Well, sort of. You were present enough to form functioning sentences and sensible thoughts but you would be lying if you claimed that Loki hadn’t noticed your predicament.

Torches, driven into the sand, illuminated your unconventional party location, throwing dancing shadows on the ground and the palm trees around you. Music was blaring out from the speakers behind the bar where an employee, bless his soul, was preparing one alcoholic drink after the next. At some point, you had grabbed Loki’s hand and dragged him away from the centre of attention, somewhere you could talk in peace. You had so many questions—about him, about his thoughts, about his life. And the more questions you asked, the more you realised that apart from Mobius, perhaps, no one had ever taken such interest in him—over Thor, anyways.

You must have been talking for hours at this point.

“Loki? Can I ask you something… personal?”

“Twelve minus twenty-five!” Tony yelled. Right. Twenty-five minutes until the New Year.

The God of Mischief quirked an eyebrow. You took that as a yes and to be fair, he looked adorable holding a cocktail glass with a little paper parasol in his left hand.

“You’re a prince… and you’re a literal century older than me. You must have… lots of experience?”

“Experience with…”

“You know… intimacy. You, um…” You took a sip of your own cocktail. It was a Long Island Ice Tea, one of those you knew got you drunk even quicker than you intended. But you needed the liquid courage. It was the last day of the year, you might as well be daring. “You’re a really good kisser is what I’m trying to say.”

“Ah…” he teased. “You’re still thinking about our kiss, dear?”

“It’s hard not to. You wanna know the truth? I have the biggest crush on you. Not sure what’s stopping me from ripping your clothes off your body right now. Probably the fact that we’re not alone.”

Loki smirked. Then, with a start, he stood up and put both your and his cocktail glass on the little coffee table next to you both. Your heart skipped a beat when he offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

“W-where?”

“Somewhere we are… alone.”

Your eyes widened. The way he purred the words you were all but putty in his hands when you allowed him to pull you with him, back into his hotel room. They were big, massive suites all on the ground floor, actual cottages with straw roofs, a minibar, and king-size beds.

“It’s almost midnight. Whatever your plan is, we should probably—“ You didn’t get any further. As soon as the door fell shut and the room was drowned in darkness, Loki’s lips were on yours, his hands exploring your body and tugging on what little clothing you were wearing in this warm climate.

They were gone before you could blink, your legs wrapped around his middle, his hands on your butt, carrying you to bed. A moan escaped your lips when he broke his passionate kiss to get rid of his own clothes. He was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt, one that’d already had you drooling all over him, combined with another pair of dark green trunks.

You were about to comment how hot you thought he was when he kissed you again. You moaned again, felt his hard length pressing against your inner thigh. Instinctively, you spread your legs further, inviting him in. Still, he took his time.

One of his hands cupped your face, the other disappeared down to where you were already throbbing for him. Loki found you wet and eager, your back arching when he began to pamper your clit with gentle pressure, massaging the sensitive little nub until you went absolutely feral for him.

He was proving it, you realised. Proving a point. Answering your question. Yes, he had experience. And he was about to show you just how he could make his partners feel in bed. Fuck…

You whined when he pulled away but before you could complain, he pulled your legs apart even further and sank his length into you. He slid in meeting no resistance, filling you to the brim. For a moment, you both froze.

“You… feel like you’ve been made for me…” you heard him growl against your ear.

“Loki…” It was all you were able to respond when he began to fuck you, stroke after stroke after stroke. He was right. It felt so good you feared you’d pass out and miss out on the fun and you realised soon enough that you didn’t need his hands to give you bliss.

Loki buried himself even deeper inside of you, his forehead resting against yours; grinding so closely against you he created friction where you needed him the most. Slow and deep thrusts made you throw your head back. And then, all of a sudden, you could hear everyone outside count down from ten.

You came the very moment you heard the Avengers’ scream “Happy New Year”, followed by fireworks illuminating the night sky. Flickering, colourful lights fell through the gap of Loki’s curtains, reflecting the firework inside of you.

Pulsing around him, he kept pounding into you until he too reached his peak, his face buried in your neck.

The fireworks were still going by the time you were able to grasp a proper thought again, a whimper escaping your lips as you relished the feeling of Loki jerking against your walls and filling you with his seed.

“Happy New Year, Loki.”

“Happy New Year, dear.”

The God of Mischief smiled—it was quite possibly the most genuine expression you had ever seen on him. He pulled out and you rolled over so you came to lie on top of him. He was even more comfortable than the king-size bed. But when you tried to sit up and climb out of bed, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you captive.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’ve only just started.”

“Oh f-fuck… that sounds tempting but we should… probably wish everyone a happy New Year?” Loki quirked an eyebrow yet again. “Or maybe not…”

He smirked and allowed you both to sit up. With a simple snap of his fingers, he produced two glasses of champagne and handed you one. “Perhaps… I will start celebrating New Year’s after all.”

You grinned as you clinked your glasses. “But only if we do it exactly how we just did it.”

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! ♥

#loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #loki series #loki series imagine #loki show #loki show imagine #loki spoilers #loki season 2 spoilers

[elenaysusneuras]

My Sex Pollen fic is embarrassing long so here is a teaser because I'm a whore for validation and also I want to share with @sarahscribbles.

-Please y/n, don't come any closer. I…I can smell your skin, I can almost taste it from here. I don't know what is going to happen if you touch me. I don't want to hurt you. I… -But his voice died in his throat as you cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb feeling the soft skin under his eye.

-You won't hurt me. Let me help you Loki. Please. - Your voice was merely a whisper and you close the distance, pressing your chest against his. You felt his hard erection against your belly, and you noticed his length was pulsating against you even through all the layers of clothing. You stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his, barely touching them. You were waiting for his reaction, for him to push you away. But in a swift movement your back was against the wall and Loki was pining your wrists above your head. Before you could wrap your head about what just happened his mouth was on yours kissing you hard, his tongue demanding and his teeth pulling your lower lip making you gasp against his lips. His mouth was divine, his tongue moving expertly like he could not get enough of your taste. Before you could catch your breath, his hand found the hem of your t-shirt. It lay flat against your stomach and stayed there, his fingers flexing slightly. His lips started a trail its way from your mouth to your ear. He then sucked, hard, against the skin below your ear. His breath was hot and you could hear the lump in his throat, his voice struggling to come out.

-Y/N… tell me you are sure. Tell me you want this… because I'm afraid I won't be able to stop If I keep touching you like this. - His voice was so soft but so full with need it made your core clench, feeling empty and desperate. Even in his state he still cared about you, enough to make you feel safe. He still needed your consent. He needed to know you wanted this. Him.

That somehow made you dizzy with desire.

I'm still working on it, making tons of corrections, but I hope you like it!!!

#loki fic #loki smut #loki x reader #smut fic #loki smut of course #still writing

[hunny-beann]

The Coming of Spring

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: It is May Eve on Asgard, a Holiday that exists to celebrate love, fertility, and the coming of Spring…

Though, if your lover, Prince Loki has his say in the matter (and he usually does), Spring will not be the only thing to come, nor will it be the only worshiped aspect of this particular eve.

Note: Welcome to the smut fest! For some reason I've found myself up at six in the morning writing this, so please forgive any mistakes I've made while in my horrendously exhausted state. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Pretty graphic NSFW, vulgarity, somewhat of a breeding kink, and pure unadulterated filth

Word Count: 2,419

There was a rather frantic energy pulsing throughout the room as the palace staff rushed about nervously, not a single set of idle hands to be found in the combined effort to finish the preparations for the afternoon's upcoming festivities in a timely manner.

You blew out a puff of air, already exhausted from the tasks you had completed thus far and silently cursing this day for daring to come at all.

And yet this year, as with every other, the springtime holiday still arrived, the augur of some great change, according to legend, though for you it always meant the same thing:

Waking up at five in the morning to prepare for the upcoming afternoon festival in whatever manner the queen deemed fit for the proper celebration of what had come to be well known Walpurgisnacht, or May Eve, the holiday that brought upon the loud and boisterous worship of love, fertility, and the coming of Spring.

And of course, a day so dedicated to such things was one of pleasant festivities to be certain, and thus you never failed to enjoy it, but even still, your chores weighed heavily upon you as your overworked fingers weaved petals and stems through glistening golden iron.

It had been four hours since you had gotten up to work, and somehow it had felt like an eternity, your hands cramping and begging for relief as the tips of your fingers rubbed themselves raw with duty.

You paused for a moment to yawn into the crook of your elbow, wishing for the one hundredth time within that hour alone that you had gotten more sleep the night before.

Still, it had been a worthy sacrifice, had it not? A little bit of exhaustion today in order to avoid the simmering desire of the realm's younger prince throughout the festivities, or, more accurately yet, throughout your abundant tasks that you had scheduled about your day?

Yes, almost assuredly. You had learned all too well from last year (and the other two before that), that it was rather hard to do such things as wash the finest of the palace's dinnerware with Loki's skilled fingers upon your chest or beneath your dress, after all.

So, if a bit of freedom from your concerns of being dragged off into some dark corner upon every available moment of your dear prince's day came at the cost of you being forced to wake up early while he slept away the previous evening's activities, then so be it.

At least this way, you could know for certain that you still had quite a few hours yet until someone urged the prince to rise, giving you plenty of time to complete at least the preparatory chores before he began his ever persistent search for you.

He seemed to enjoy the game of seeking you out each morning, or at whatever time it was that he rose or found himself at leave, though usually it was to do little more than tease or annoy you as you attempted to work through his ceaseless attempts at distraction.

But on a holiday like today, you found that he was typically all too content with taking his teasing quite a few steps further. That said, much to your (mostly feigned) chagrin, that did not mean that he never found himself seeking out far less innocent sounds than those of annoyance, laughter, or sheer disbelief from you on random days throughout the year.

No, Loki was incorrigible, and beyond even that, incomprehensible with his choices and behaviors, and you could normally never hope to know upon which day you might find yourself sandwiched between his chest and some palace wall, though with the arrival Walpurgisnacht, it was almost always a certainty.

Still, with something that was perhaps akin to a fool's ignorance, you dared to hope that maybe, after a night like the one this dawn had followed, your prince may have been just sated enough to make it through the holiday without torturing you so the way that he usually chose to.

Such a thought could not be so terribly remiss, could it? Not after the hours upon hours of groping, fleeting, and cradling touches that the two of you had offered one another the night before.

Not after an afternoon's worth of teasing at the hands of the god of mischief upon that very same day, or the longing glances that carried on well into the evening.

Not after he had cornered you in the garden after dinner had come to an end, speaking his long withheld and inconceivably filthy promises of what was to come clearly and casually into the cool night air as if the two of you were simply taking an evening stroll together, talking about the weather or your hobbies rather than the way he planned to have you upon his tongue within the hour, hands creating bruising imprints of obvious ownership in the soft flesh of your hips and thighs as he drove you to madness before pulling you right back toward sanity again with the blunt tip of his cock as it kissed up against your wet folds, smearing precum amongst the remnants of his saliva and the glistening drool of your already thoroughly abused cunt.

Not after you had given in a mere twenty minutes after hearing his whorish promises of what he intended to do to you once he laid his hands upon your bare flesh again, knocking quietly at his heavy chamber doors until he finally came to find you standing there, having made you wait in a manner that was no doubt intentional just so he could feel the exaggerated way that you melted against him when he finally pulled you near, kissing you deeply until his amused and teasing chuckles turned into low and rumbling groans that arose from deep within his chest, and he pulled away to order you to your knees before him, mouth open and waiting so he could see the way your eager tongue stuck out to taste him even before he was bare before you, and how your perfect thighs began to rub together in a fruitless attempt to ease the ache that the sight of him never ceased to cause.

Not after he had held you firm against his chest, arm looped around your middle as you'd laid beneath him on all fours while he'd thrust his strong and lithe hips against your trembling ones, not an ounce of mercy to be found as he hissed and moaned with reckless abandon beside your ear, the sounds of his pleasure easily matching and occasionally even drowning out your own as he reminded you of who you had been born to serve, to worship, and to cum for upon his very command.

And oh, did he command.

Eleven orgasms, if you had counted correctly, and you were fairly certain with as hazy as your mind had felt after the first four, that you had not.

Your cheeks burned red at the clear and persistent memories of the previous night, Loki's satisfied groans and sluttish moans playing over and over within your head as if he were right there with you, cock buried in whichever tight, wet hole was deemed worthy of his attentions within that particular moment.

You swallowed thickly, pressing your thighs together tightly as you continued your seemingly endless work, flower after flower coming to rest perfectly upon the third archway that had been granted your efforts for the morning thus far.

Though, in spite of how diligently you worked at your assigned chore, it seemed that the fates themselves had something against it being completed,

For what other reason could there be for such familiarly agile hands to suddenly rest upon your hips so early in the morn, in spite of the tiresome escapades that had occurred the night before?

It was so unlike the younger prince of Asgard to awaken so early after a night of passion, after which he tended to lounge upon his sheets, naked body blessing the very realm with its presence as sunlight danced upon his skin.

You had seen that many a time after all, hadn't you? So you would certainly know, better than most at that, if not better than all.

But then again, it was so very much like Loki to rise early not to seize this day, but rather to seize you upon it as he had done for the past three May Eves since he had claimed you as his own...

And maybe you had not considered that fact as diligently as you should have while working to tire him out the night before, though now you were embarrassed to admit that you scarcely knew why you would have wanted to do so in the first place.

It seemed that your rather vivid memories of the prior evening's festivities had brought about a familiar stirring betwixt your thighs, and you knew all too well that there was only one set of hands, one silver tongue, one long and devastatingly thick cock, and one god of mischief who could help you to ease your sudden discomfort.

"Good morning, my dear."

He purred against the shell of your ear, warm breaths causing your hair to flutter about delicately as his hands traveled over top your gown.

"It would seem that I require some additional support when it comes to selecting and befitting myself with the proper attire for this afternoon's festivities."

He all but purred, forcing you to bite back a shiver as you struggled not to make your already overwhelming need for him too obvious.

It was never fun to just give in, after all.

You knew all too well how much he liked the chase.

So, with that thought in mind, you steadied yourself to the best of your ability, giving your already racing imagination a few brief moments of peace before finally, you spoke,

"Is that so, my prince?"

You asked, feigning curiosity as you did your best to continue working on the task at hand, sore fingers working deftly at soft petals and slightly thorny stems as you weaved them continuously through metal.

"Well, I regret to inform you that your dear mother, our most respected queen, specifically requested that I myself create the flowered arches for the festival this year."

You began,

"She was kind enough to let me know how much she enjoyed my work upon them last eve in Lady Juniper's absence, and asked if I might be willing to work my magic for a second year running."

You heard an amused chuckle arise from behind you, and though you were certain that Loki had already planned something truly devious to drag you away from your duties with, you continued to feign innocence.

"And how could I dare say no to a request such as that, dear prince? It would seem that Lady Juniper's past maternity leave has provided me with quite the opportunity with which to rise into our lady's good graces, and who would I be to squander such a thing?"

There was a thoughtful hum from your lover as he reached beyond you to thumb at a few of the petals that decorated your current project with his left hand, though the right stayed firm upon your hip, the pads of his fingers pressing deftly into your flesh just as they had done the night before, mirroring the bruises he'd left there perfectly.

"An utter fool, to be sure."

He replied easily, voice low and smooth as he continued,

"Though, I can think of a far better way for you to rise into the All-Mother's good graces, sweetling."

He murmured, lips brushing against your neck just enough so that you could feel the smirk that rested so prominently upon them.

He had you exactly where he wanted you, though you could scarcely bring yourself to mind when there was such a tremendous desire building for him deep within your core.

"Oh?"

You asked curiously, nimble fingers still working on your once so heavily fixated on project,

"And what might that be, Prince Loki?"

At that, you felt the ever teasing god of mischief crowd your back, his hardness pressed against you as you desperately fought the urge to wriggle against his crotch just to hear the no doubt sluttish groan he would let out if you did.

Thankfully enough though, your lover seemed eager to get to the point, the reasoning for that fact somehow growing even harder at the touch of your warmth, even with it being so dulled beneath your clothing.

He chuckled,

"Well my dear, I think you would find her to be quite pleased if you were to request your own leave in the coming months."

He purred, and this time, you could not even hope to fight back the shiver that followed, your hands finding either side of the nearly completed archway with a gasp as Loki bent you over at the waist, pressing himself as close to your clothed core as he could manage with a low and eager groan, his words dripping with both amusement and thinly veiled arousal as he spoke up again,

"Would you like me to give you a reason to do so?"

He all but growled, offering you one tortuously slow gyration of his hips in order to ensure your understanding of his less than subtle connotations as the hand that had once gripped so tightly to your hip moved swiftly beneath your dress, rubbing firmly against your bundle of nerves through your undergarments as you gasped both out of humiliation for where he had you so plainly in need of him, as well as out of arousal at his confident and ever beseeching touch.

And then suddenly, you were giving fervent and almost pleading nods in response to his previous question, having given up entirely on any hope of completing your most important project of the day.

It was, after all, May Eve, and how else should one hope to properly celebrate the coming of the Spring if not by blossoming beneath the touch of the queen's beloved second son?

And, it was as Loki had so cleverly stated himself,

It was not as if you would not be arriving swiftly and permanently within Frigga's good graces soon.

No, not if the god of mischief had his way,

Not if the two of you celebrated Walpurgisnacht in the way that Freyja herself had intended.

Loki Tag List: @mischief2sarawr

Additional Tag: @lokisgoodgirl (thank you very much for so kindly answering my anonymous questions regarding the SAS earlier! I've found that I have yet to develop the courage necessary to directly message any (other) particular authors yet, but I figured I can at least step outside of my comfort zone and tag you as you oh so kindly gave me permission to in your reply. Thank you again for your encouragement! <3)

#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #lokismut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki odinson #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki marvel #loki x fem reader #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut #loki breeding kink #loki x you #loki oneshot

[loki-cees-all]

🐊 headcanons…

Picture it: You’re an Avenger. And dating Loki.

Of course, Steve would call an ‘urgent’ meeting on your birthday, effectively interrupting your plans. Loki isn’t pleased.

How will he make sure you enjoy your special day?

The Interruption {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / Cee and K's Glorious Birthday Bast Celebration Prompt List / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader

Summary : It's your birthday, and Loki has one goal - to make sure you feel like the Queen that you are. So when Steve sends out a mysterious email about some kind of emergency, Loki decides to take care of it before you ever find out about it.

W/c : 2k words

Content/Warnings : Fluff, hints of smut, a smidgeon of angst.

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Loki always dreamt pleasantly while you were near. His bed was a sacred place because of you, where love blossomed and nightmares faded, when laughter replaced tears and groans of pain morphed into moans of pleasure. 

He always slept well while your naked bodies were tangled together, inhaling and exhaling in perfect sync, sharing warmth on cold nights in blissful uninterrupted slumber - except right now, an irritating beeping noise echoed against the walls over his dreams, incessantly increasing in volume and quickly becoming impossible to ignore. 

The sound pulled him from his dreams, and he stirred underneath the weight of your sleeping body against his. Loki liked you there, with your arm draped around his waist, one leg curled around one of his, and your cheek pressed against his chest, completely passed out and without a single care in the world; it made him feel wanted, necessary, alive. 

And you were in a particularly deep and divine slumber that morning, thanks to Loki’s ingenious plan of fucking you senseless the night before. But it went further than just the divinity of being intimate with the one he loved dearly, he just wanted to make sure that you slept long and well on the morning of your birthday. 

Beep, beep. His eyes finally flickered open when he realized it was your phone making that sound, threatening to ruin the first of many gifts he was planning to give you today. He’d reminded you the night before to make sure it was silenced, but somehow, some kind of message was still sneaking its way through. 

Cursing silently to himself, he stretched his arm out to grab the device from your nightstand, moving slowly and carefully in order to not rouse you. And just to be safe, Loki took his other hand and carefully threaded it through your hair to gently massage your scalp, hoping to keep you soothed, relaxed and unconscious. 

You let out an incoherent murmur against his chest as he moved, but continued sleeping peacefully, and so Loki brought your phone closer to examine it. He absolutely despised these things, but a long time ago you had insisted on adding his likeness as an Alternate Appearance to your phone, using the justification that it might come in handy someday. 

At the time he couldn’t imagine that it ever would - Loki suspected that you were just teasing him, trying to rile him up. But as his eyes scanned the preview on the screen, he was secretly grateful that you had: it was an electronic message from Steve Rogers, addressed to the entire Avengers team, to inform them of some kind of urgent matter that required a mandatory 8 am meeting.

A rage began to simmer deep in his soul. Regardless of what this “urgent matter” was - and Loki was sure that the Soldier was overreacting about it - it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Not when it was your birthday, and he had intended on spending the day worshiping you both in and out of his bed…

Loki returned the phone to the nightstand and wrapped both his arms around you, weighing his options. He could feign ignorance - neither of you saw the email because you were too busy loving each other. Or he could flat out tell Steve that neither of you were going to be available today. That it wasn’t your burden to bear…

But as his fingertips brushed against your soft skin and his lungs filled with the scent of your shampoo, Loki knew you wouldn’t be okay with that. You’d want to do your job, you’d want to help - no matter how inconvenient that was, or how much you deserved a break. 

And Loki adored that about you…which is why he ultimately decided he was going to have to fix the problem, whatever it was, before you ever found out about it. 

The phone had read 7:13 am before he put it back down, and Loki knew he had to work quickly. Pressing his lips to your temple and delicately cradling your head, he slowly rolled you over onto your back. You let out a groan of complaint as the movement gently stirred you awake. 

“No, don’t get out of bed yet…” you murmured, frowning slightly as you reached to pull him closer. 

Loki smiled as he settled his weight on top of you, loving the delicate but direct choice of words. He nudged his nose against yours as he spoke softly. “Ah, but I’ve got gifts that need their final touches in order to be perfect for you, darling…” 

You sighed peacefully as you brought your hands to thread through his dark hair. “I don’t want gifts. I just want you…”

“You say that now…” Loki chuckled before giving you a slow, lingering, sensual kiss - one that was designed to lull you into submission. “But you’ll be singing a different tune once you see them…” 

The kiss almost worked, but as your lips moved with his, Loki felt your fingernails gently dragging against his scalp and down the back of his neck. It was one of his weaknesses, never failing to immediately turn him on and get him going. 

He moaned softly, and it turned into a low growl as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips began to roll with yours, and there was nothing he wanted more than to spend it inside his bed, inside of you - but he had a mission to accomplish before that could happen. 

Loki steeled his nerves and grabbed your wrists, extracting them from his curls and pulling his lips away from yours. “Vixen…didn’t you get enough last night?” he hissed softly, eyes narrowed in a display of restraint even as he met your playful grin with one of his own. 

“You know I didn’t…” 

“Mmm. You never do, do you?” he murmured as he shifted his weight on the bed, lifting his hips from yours and pressing your wrists into the pillow above your head. 

Your lips parted to argue again, and Loki quickly placed his against your throat, exhaling heavily against your skin as he kissed and sucked. You whimpered in both pleasure and submission; Loki knew all of your weaknesses too. 

“Just give me a little time, darling,” he whispered softly, trailing his lips up to your ear. “Then I promise, I’ll give you everything you deserve today…” 

You nodded in agreement, and Loki smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “Such a good girl, even on her birthday…” 

Your eyelids fluttered open and closed in a haze as Loki rose from the bed and began to get dressed, deciding to do it manually instead of using his seidr, and choosing casual gray sweatpants and a hoodie to further cement the idea that there was nothing to be alarmed about just yet. 

He could feel your gaze upon him as he moved, and he did his best to avoid looking back; he knew your naked form would be twisted enticingly in the silk sheets, your eyes half-lidded with desire as they usually were when you were alone. 

Loki loved that about you, that you wanted him so openly; it was impossible to resist - and that was exactly why he needed to fend off the Soldier’s urgent request for an emergency meeting; you deserved to be revered every day, but you especially deserved it today. 

“I suppose I’ll have to find some other ways of keeping myself entertained while you’re gone…” you sighed dramatically as Loki turned to reach for the door handle. 

He grinned and looked back at you, stiffening at the sight of the demure smile gracing your features and your fingertips dipping between your thighs. “You can certainly get started, dear, but don’t you dare finish until I return…” 

Loki winked before disappearing into the hallway, and he chuckled to himself as he heard you laugh and groan simultaneously. The door clicked shut, and he sighed heavily as shimmering emerald light descended from temple to toe, transforming the unconcerned clothing he had left wearing into his emerald and onyx battle leathers. 

He wasn’t above using whatever intimidation tactics necessary in order to intimidate the Soldier into admitting that he was most definitely overreacting about this so-called urgent matter. 

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Deep down you knew that your attempts to delay or distract Loki from leaving wouldn’t work, but it was worth the try; Loki needed someone to keep him on his toes, and you loved that you could do that for him. But now he was gone, off on some mysterious errand, and even though it was supposedly for your birthday, uncertainty was beginning to creep in. 

Loki was the God of Mischief, after all. Of Lies, and of Deceit. And even though you were sure he’d never do that to you, that he loved you deeply and truly, within every sense of the word, and to the point of needing to create new definitions for it - 

He’d still left you alone on your birthday. The one time you hated being alone, when every solitary insecurity roared its ugly head and threatened to swallow you whole - why was everyone paying so much attention to you today? Why weren’t more people fawning over you? 

How were you supposed to respond to the 20 birthday messages on your phone with genuine sincerity and gratitude? And why weren’t there 40 messages waiting for responses? 

Were you spending the day in a way that didn’t seem like a waste? Were you doing too much? Not enough? 

As tears filled your eyes, you tossed your phone back over to the nightstand. Telling yourself this was silly, you rolled over and pulled Loki’s silk sheets, still warm from his skin and drenched in his scent, tighter around your body and closed your eyes.

Loki would be back soon, you knew that. You were lying naked in his bed, left alone in his private sanctuary to wait for his return; that wasn’t insignificant to either of you. It meant something, it was important, and it was worth focusing on, but at some point it slipped away as you drifted between sleep and consciousness. 

Eventually, the mattress dipped down beside you, and two warm hands were stirring you awake as they pulled you onto your back. Loki’s scent was stronger now, and you sighed peacefully as his lips pressed lazily along your throat. 

“Mmm. You’re back…” you murmured with a smile as he settled his weight on top of you again. It felt so good to be cocooned with him, and you almost forgot that he’d even left in the first place. 

“You know I wouldn’t stay away for too long…” Loki chuckled as he guided your hands to tangle in his hair. “This is where all my favorite belongings are…”

You laughed out loud, and as Loki captured your lips with his, your laughter turned into a deep moan. Your fingers curled in his dark curls, and he kissed you like he’d been away for days instead of an hour, like somehow he wasn’t sure he’d ever make it back to you. 

And it was strange - his lips were cold, and he was shivering too; you’d never known him to shiver before…Your brow furrowed, and as if he sensed your confusion, his lips pulled away from yours. “Something wrong, love?” he murmured cautiously. 

You gazed up at him, studying the conflicting expression etched on his features with your fingertips. “I’m fine - but you’re shivering. Are you alright?” 

He smiled reassuringly, nodding his head towards the coffee table in the living area where two short taupe coffee cups and a small paper bag, presumably filled with cinnamon buns from The Clock Coffee Shop across the street, sat waiting on the coffee table for you. “Well, the café was quite hectic this morning, princess, and it is snowing outside. But I’ll try to be more efficient next year…” 

You smiled at the idea that Loki was already planning on spending next year’s birthday worshiping you again. 

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#loki x female reader #loki #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki x you #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #marvel x reader #loki fic #loki mcu #marvel imagine #loki imagines #loki x yn #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #gloriousbirthdaybash #cee writes

[cleo-fox]

Overtime

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

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re still doing it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

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

Also not a great sign.

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he says.

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

“Coffee would be great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Technically.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Liar,” you say promptly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

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

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

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

“It does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

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

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are body shots?”

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

He’s teasing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tva loki x reader

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎: 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Out Of This World

【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an Asgardian plant from Thor since he knew you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.

『W.C.』 : 3.17k

-> Genre: Fluff. Smut

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Assassin!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Crying. Making out. This is slightly dub-con. Neck kisses. Hickies. Possessiveness. Slight toxic thoughts. Breast play. Begging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Lots of emotion.

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“Hey so has anyone seen Peach? we’re about to leave.” Steve was walking around like a worried mother, trying to find you before you all were supposed to leave for this event thingy they had agreed to attend. You weren’t in the mood for parties or galas at any time of day or night. So you disappearing before one wasn’t a surprise.

“I’ll go look for her. She's probably in her room trying to find a place for that new plant Thor gave her from off planet.” Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing his best friend all too well, heading straight for your room which was situated on the same level as his in the compound. A couple of days ago, Thor had returned from his trip back to his home and had gifted everyone with something from there. So, of course, you are a planet lover. He brought you one of the exotic flowers. Bruce pestered on how ‘we don’t know what that plant could do. Is it even safe’ but Thor reassured everybody that it was fine. And that he had no clue what the plant was anyway. So with that, Bucky said he’d catch up with them and take his bike later with you rather than make them wait.

While this ordeal was unravelling, you were frantically holding the said flower in a beautiful pot that Loki had gifted you along with it. You had so many plants as it is that you’ve realized there was no room for the newest addition. A knock at your door startled you almost to the point of dropping the poor guy all over the floor. But luckily, your reflexes kicked in quicker than usual. “Come in!”

You knew it was most likely someone like Tony or Steve coming to parade you about ‘getting ready for the gala’ but you seriously didn’t want to go. It wasn’t like you hated your friends or the party per se. You just hated people in general. And why, you may ask? Because people are loud, rude, narcissistic, and most importantly, stuck up. Half the time, people love to walk all over you because of your job. Given that you and the others were Avengers, people only looked at you in two different views. Scum that brought danger to earth. Or these kinds of saviours, superheroes. God even. Something you didn’t consider yourself as. So either way, you didn’t want the interaction. So staying home it is.

“Give me one good excuse why you are still in your pyjamas running around like an idiot holding an alien plant and maybe, just maybe I’ll consider you not going to this lame party a good enough reason.” Bucky's voice brought you to a halt, your head snapping back down towards the little Kitchen/Entrance. Your nose was scrunched up, making Buck know you were trying to think of a lie. You were never good at them, always having a tell clear as the day. He just scoffed, slipping his shoes off so he could walk into your room. “So, what’s your excuse, Doll?”

“It’s uhh…” You half smiled, tip-toeing toward the large male. “I need to find a spot for my son.” You shove it in his face in an almost innocent manner. Bucky held in his chuckle, staring at the strange purple-looking plant. He had to tilt his head, noticing it was moving almost like it was breathing. Shaking off the weird thought, his gaze looked back up to your wide eyes. The sparkles in the corner of them made his heart flutter. You loved nature so much, from the simplest things like flowers and fruits to the weirdest in Bucky's opinion, Moss, Fungi, and vines.

“Son?” He had to chuckle.

“Yes, my son. Isn’t he pretty? I need to find a spot for him.” You brought the plant to your chest, inspecting him with such innocent eyes. Oh, what Bucky would give for you to look at him like that. You were perfect in every way. Even if you are shy, introverted. You smiled at everyone, making any of your teammates feel like they were the centre of your attention. But every time you gave him that same smile, he felt like he was the centre of your world. Like nothing else mattered but you two and your longing stares. Maybe his crush on you has gotten out of hand, and maybe he should just ‘man up’ as Sam puts it and tell you how he feels.

But he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like that. Like he could do no wrong. That he wasn’t a monster, an outsider. Like he thinks he is. No, your smile would just say he was one thing. Human.

“Well, I guess you’ll need to name your son too.” Bucky steps a little closer to you, now both staring down at the plant with the beautiful purple and gold patterning on its petals. You hummed in response, beginning to think of all the stupid names you could give it, but then something strange began to happen. The plant swayed, but there was no breeze. Its leaves wrapped slowly around the stem, and then slowly, it squished itself down. What was it doing? You knew it was an alien plant, but this was definitely not something a plant should do… right?

“Has it done that before?” Bucky asks.

“No It’s onl―” Your words were cut off when a bright purple powder suddenly exploded from the plant landing straight onto your and Bucky's faces. From the reaction, you dropped the plant, making the soil go everywhere on the floor by your feet. You hissed at the pollen-like substance sticking to your eyes. you could hear Bucky also groan in protest, more likely from the same thing.

“What the fuck!?” Bucky yelled. “I’m going to kill Thor and Loki, I swear to god.” He manages to get the sticky purple dust out from his eyes, letting him open them to see you cowering with your fingers desperately trying to get the dust off you. “Honey, hey… come here.” His hands cupped your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe away all the dust he could.

“Why is everything purple?” You blinked a couple of times, noticing your surroundings were tainted in a violet-like hue. Bucky didn’t want to scare you, but he, too, had the same view. He helped guide you to the sink in the kitchen, putting the tap on so he could splash some water on yours and his face. The purple slowly went away, but the hue was still slightly there. Drying your face with some paper towel, you suddenly felt an odd shiver pour down your spine. You gulped, having a hot flush start to wash over you as if someone turned up the AC. You took a step back leaning against the countertop, trying your best to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

“Are you okay, Doll?” You looked up from the floor to see Bucky with rigged breathing. His nostrils were flared, and his mouth was slightly agape. He had a fire burning in him, making all his blood go straight to his cock. Eyes hazy, and voice deep and growled. He sounded like a predator coaxing his prey.

“I…I don’t know.” You had no clue how to explain with you felt, but all your mind could understand was that you needed something, someone to help get rid of the pain. A sharp stab pierces your chest, making you hiccup before falling onto the floor. Bucky was quick to meet you on the ground, gripping onto your arm, holding you up. His touch sent sparks to your dripping core. You needed him. “J-Jamie I need help…”

Your whimper made Bucky groan, shaking his head in an attempt to suppress his needs. He couldn’t think straight, only thinking about what your pussy could feel like. No, you’re his friends! His friend that he had the biggest crush on. But no, he can’t just pin you down this very floor and fuck the life out of you… right? “H-honey, please. Do you know what kind of plant that is?”

“Loki said uh, it…it was a samfar? Samfarir?” You tried to remember the conversation you had with Thor and Loki when they gave you the plant, but your mind kept wondering to… other things. you layed down on the cold tiles in the hope you could cool yourself down. Bucky had let go of you leaning against the cabinet along the wall. He sighs, raking his fingers through his damp hair. He knew what this plant was.

“Fuck… That fucking dick. It’s a sex plant.” Bucky's words made your eyes snap open, sitting up to look at him in a what the fuck did you say expression. “It’s a plant from his home planet that is supposed to help intercourse. But they stopped the practise cause of one downside.”

“What…What's the downside James?!” You sat on your knees, placing your hand on his hot thigh. Your innocent touch alone made his cock twitch. His eyes met yours and the temptation to kiss you was becoming increasingly difficult.

“You don’t have sex. You die.” He said it bluntly. “I found out from a conversation Tony was having with them. Asking if there was something to help boost his sex life. Typical…” He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Now there was a stalemate cause lets face it as much as he wants to, he wasn’t about to ask if you wanna fuck. How would he even ask such a question? And plus his crush on you doesn’t help him in this situation. He watched you wiggle, feeling your pussy begin to drip through your shorts. God, he could smell you too. Everything was making his hair stand up. Your scent, your heavy pants, the way your eyes were glossed, practically begging him to do something, anything.

“If that’s the case…” you trailed off, scooting close to him, placing your free hand on his forearm. He suddenly jumped, pushing himself away from you, making you flinch. You didn’t want this either. You were so in love with Bucky since the first day you met, and you did not expect this to be the way you’d be intimate with him. But him pushing away from you hurt so much. You put your hands in your lap, feeling your heartbreak. Maybe he thought death was better than having sex with you.

“Hey wait I uh…” Buck saw the panic in your eyes, seeing tears start to form, moving back to grab your hands, making you look at him. “I didn’t mean…fuck. Uh. I don’t know wha…” Bucky cut himself off with a hitch. You look so desperate, your tongue sticking out to lick your lips slightly. His hands gripped tighter on yours, forgetting all of his past thoughts, past restraints. You and he can just talk later, right? “Fuck.”

He cupped your face, smashing his lips on yours. It was single-handedly the best kiss you’ve ever experienced. His tongue slipped inside quickly, attacking your own. He drew out moans from you that he thought he’d never hear. Your fingers intertwine with his jacket. He was forceful, pushing you down onto the cold hard floor, pushing his thigh between your legs so he could brush it against your core. The pressure was the relief you needed, bucking your hips without a second thought. Everything was happening so quickly, but neither of you cared anymore. “J-Jamess…”

Buck swallowed your words, biting down on your bottom lips before pulling away, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from you. There were no words shared. No, only your bodies spoke. Telling one another, you needed the other. Your hands ran up his biceps, digging into the leather on him. He kisses the corner of your mouth before slipping down towards your jaw, then neck, before stopping on your collarbone sucking harshly. His teeth grazed your shoulder, using his metal hand to help tug down your shirt slightly so he could sink his K-nines into your skin. He didn’t want this to be a memory by the end of it. He needed to leave evidence on your body to show you and himself that this was indeed real and it was happening. Your hips hadn’t stopped there slow grind against his thigh, making his light jeans deepen in colour from your wetness. His hand moved from your shoulder, gliding down to your hem. He tugged it at first, seeing how loose it was before getting his other hand to pull the opposite way, ripping the fabric in half.

“Pretty.” he sat on his calves, seeing the laced black bra you were sporting. Your chest rose and fell at each breath, making him bite his lip and eyes darken. You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. All his late-night wet dreams, fucking his fist at the sheer thought of you would never compare to what his gaze met with now. And he never wanted to let it go. You were going to be his whether you liked it or not. He took his shirt all as well before diving back into your kissing along your breasts before pulling down your bra letting your tits spill over the top. You did have time to say anything before he latched his mouth on your hard nipple, while his thumb rolled over the other.

You cried, feeling tears prickle against the corner of your eyes. You moaned his name over and over, trying to find any type of pressure to heal the ache from below. It was like his mind knew your body, noticing the sign of plea. He gave one last suck on your nipples before pulling away with an audible pop. Your eyes opened slightly to see his dark blue pair staring at you with intensity. It was like he was scanning your body, making sure to remember every scar, beauty mark, freckle, and stretch mark so he could reply this event later in his mind. His hand cupped your mould, feeling heat pooling from it. If it wasn’t for the plant clouding your judgment, you’d most definitely be embarrassed. But you didn’t, so all you did was buck your hips into his hand, spreading your legs more for him to have his way with you.

“Please. I’m yours, Bucky. Do something. Anything to me. Have me, however you want. Just please make it stop hurting.” Your words made Bucky stop for a moment. Even though this plant affected both of you, it seemed that his mind was clearer than yours. His enhancements must be helping him from completely losing his mind. His face was inches from yours, gripping your chin with his fingers, making you focus on him. He needed to confess before he continued, even if neither of you believed it and blamed the plant afterwards. He needed to tell you what he felt.

“I love you, Doll. I’ve loved you since you arrived as a new recruit. I’m so madly in love half the time I don’t know what to do without you being by my side. And I swear to fucking god, I’ll take you out and treat you like the queen you are afterwards but for now, I’m going to fuck you like our lives depend on it.” He sealed his lips on yours once last time before sitting up to pull your pants down.

“Our lives do depend on it.” you halfheartedly chuckled, groaning at the cool air blowing on your bare cunt. He threw your pants across the room, unzipping his and pulling them down enough to pull his cock out. You gulped at his size, knowing he must be big but he was…definitely big. He placed his hand on the base of his cock while the other snaked the back of your neck, bringing your bodies close together. Your breath was mixing together and your eyes never left his, brows knitting slowly as you felt his tip push against your soaked hole. “I love you… I love you so much.”

“Fuck.” he bottomed you out making you hiss at the pain since neither of you prepped. But the pain was short-lived as he started thrusting slowly. His head fell into the crook of your neck letting you wrap your arms around his broad back. Your nails dug in harder with each snap of his hips. His cock was hitting all the right places, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit perfectly and his balls hit your ass with each moan and gasp that slipped off your tongue. Everything was overwhelming yet perfectly balanced at the same time. You cried, not just from the intense pleasure but from Bucky's words previously. Your purple-hued vision slowly became normal, and your mind unfogged.

The plant's influence slowly left your and Bucky's system, leaving just your raw feelings for one another. Neither of you pulled away. Neither of you wanted to run. You were perfectly content in each other's arms. Locking your lips in a non-verbal seal of love. You were his, and he was yours whether either of you voiced that neither of you cared. You only cared for his body caging you on the hard cold floor while he only needed your cunt to keep squeezing him before you both were coming undone. It was sticky, messy, loving and raw. And it was just the way you both dreamed it would be.

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