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#loki x reader
lokisgoodgirl · 2 days
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No Mercy [Loki x Female Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki interrogates you....sexually. Warnings. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Ceremonial erotica. Fun & Games. Soft! Dom Loki. Established relationship. Light bondage. Denial. (w/c 1.8k)
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“Do you plead mercy, little one?” Loki’s voice is terrifyingly calm. If it weren’t for the violently hard erection pressed against his thigh beneath those tight, slutty trousers you might actually believe you were in danger. Deny me, you’d challenged him. Make me break. And he has. And he’s close.
“You’ll never make me talk,” you say defiantly. The layer of fear in your voice is fake, but the tremble isn’t.
It feels like you’re dripping on the bed, knees together, folded to the side, hands tied to the posts. Loki’s eyes flicker to the sheets beneath you as you squirm and a slight narrow of his eyes confirms that yes, you are in fact, dripping on the bed.
You’ve been at this for almost an hour. He’s barely touched you. Just a graze of his tactfully deployed fingers, a blindfold, the targeted skim of his breath and the devastation of his carefully chosen words.
Now the blindfold runs between his fingers as he tilts his head, thinking. “My interrogation requires a little more...finesse, then,” he says, making the blindfold disappear in a flash of green. “A touch more...pressure.’ You whine, yanking the thick leather binds wrapped around your wrists. The manufactured innocence on your face is like blood to a free-wolf and Loki’s lips curl in a wicked smile.
“I’ve been doing this a long, long time,” he says imperiously as he unbuttons a cuff. His long fingers make slow work of folding the sleeve up the meat of his forearm. “I may be a Prince, but an Interrogator of the Crown was my calling, I think. Don’t you?” Your chin rises and you nail him with your stare, hoping your tits look as great as you think they do. You arch valiantly towards his quiet wrath and with a deep breath, you deploy your best 50's starlet impression. “You’ll never break me….Loki Laufeyson.” He releases an exaggerated growl that makes new arousal well between your tightly closed thighs. “Is that right?”
A golden flicker licks from his forehead, the horned diadem unfurling from nothing at all. He’s working on the other sleeve as he swaggers to the side of the bed, taking his time. An oil of sweat has formed on your chest and you squirm for real, trying to break free. “You know how I feel about the horns, oh god-” you mutter, breaking character, clenching as another devilish smile stretches his lips. He stands by your head, crotch inches from your face. So close you can see his cock throb through the fabric. So close you can smell the earthy sweetness of his pre-cum. A low rumble of laughter penetrates the air. “I think you’re closer to defeat than you let on, little one,” he says, drawing a cool finger down your cheek. “Desperate to yield to me, desperate to give in to my demands; to furnish me with the carnal knowledge of your body that I require…that the realm requires.” Against every instinct screaming in your body, you yank your face away. “Perhaps not,” he says bitterly. A wave of dark sandalwood fills your nostrils as the mattress dips and Loki mounts the bed one impossibly long leg at a time.
He spreads his knees while he spreads yours. His face is bladed and angular in shadow, smouldering eyes sparkling beneath his battle-crown of gold.
The god reaches forward and runs his huge palms up the front of your thighs. His touch is electric. You buck up, feeling a web of arousal stick against the bedsheets. Loki glances at it through half-lidded eyes, his trunk heaving with heavy, silent breaths. “You bring this on yourself,” he whispers coldly as a strange object appears in his hand. It looks like a little bell with a round, tapered tip. But heavy. It looks heavy. There's a slight amber tint that warms in the low light.
“My seal,” he explains with an air of condescension. He swings it between his thumb and forefinger. “You will submit to me...one way or another.” He leans closer, dragging the cool golden seal over the curve of your breast and a violent shiver wrenches down your spine. “They always do,' he says. "And I have come prepared.” His eyes follow the metal seal’s descent over the dip of your waist, enjoying the shudders of overstimulation they cause. The graze of his raised markings harden your nipples and you strain your neck to the ceiling as he runs a line down the centre of your stomach and pauses at the top of your mound. The weight between your legs is unbearable; it’s an emptiness only Loki’s cock can fill. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” he murmurs sweetly with those dark brows peaked. But it’s an act, trying to trick you – of course. Oh god, he’s so fucking hot, it’s terrible. Every urge screams to cry mercy and have him fuck you like a victorious king; ride him as you hang onto those horns and make him see double. “Do it,” you spit, clenching your teeth. You yank the leather ropes again. “Pervert.” Loki’s brows rise in genuine surprise, a flash of mirth you recognise skating across his face before his features harden again. Role play with Loki is like nothing else. The king of your heart, but king of the performance too. “Very well,” he says, and the cool roll of metal slips against your cunt. He toys with it, pressing its ridged base against your clit and rubbing it in slow, maddening circles. “This seal has started wars,” he says in the same calm, even tone, “ended them, too.” Your stifle a groan of pleasure as the curved tip dips inside your pussy. Its sharp bite seems to melt inside the heat of your slit. “But you may be my greatest challenge,” he purrs as he slides it from the hole. You whimper as he brings it to his lips, rolling it, moaning in a low inhumane frequency. “And since I have just now claimed you with my crest...perhaps your conscience will allow me to claim you with my cock.” Your will to resist is fading fast. Loki tsk’s with feigned irritation as the seal vanishes and his attention turns to the mess beneath your legs. Arousal sticks to your inner thighs in a glistening sheet.
You groan as he flexes his fingers in front of his face, thick veins standing to attention on the back of his hands. He folds all but two, sucking them between his lips and hollowing his cheekbones in the process like an absolute whore. Without a pause, he curls them inside you and the air dissolves from your lungs in a strangled moan of his name. “Doesn’t count…” he warns. You look at him with your mouth open, brow a map of twitching lines. "You have to say it."
Loki kneels between your legs, as cool as Jotunheim ice, pumping his fingers slowly inside your slippery cunt, thumb sliding against your swollen clit with an arrogant smirk on his face. Your hips rise to meet him on every thrust of his palm. Breath comes in short bursts as you clench around his fingers, back arching into his touch as orgasm threatens to ruin you- He slips them out. “Loki!”
The frustration is real - no need to act. The god’s eyes widen in a shameless caricature of innocence. “I have given you every opportunity to yield to me, I have I not?” He pushes the rolled sleeves of his perfectly fitted shirt higher in a targeted attack. Your legs have begun to tremble at the loss of his touch. “And at every opportunity," he continues, "you have stayed true to your loyalties...which I respect."
The ceremonial sincerity in his voice is sickeningly erotic as he hooks his hands beneath your knees. “But pleasure...true pleasure...is a privilege reserved for those who yield to me.”
The sharp cool of his metal diadem stings your flesh as he kisses your inner thigh. He draws closer to your desperate sex, so close you can feel his breath cool against it as he says, “So cry mercy darling, and it will be yours.” He’s really dialled the drama up to eleven tonight. Instinctually you try and lurch your arms forward to grab the curve of his horns and press him deep into your pussy; mad for the feel of his tongue flat and flawless moving against it. “Oh god,” you whimper, fighting yourself. “Good girl,” he purrs, grazing his parted lips over your swollen labia. It’s too much. “Oh god, Loki…” “Good girl, say it...beg for it,” he spits as he falls back on his haunches and reaches for the button of his suit trousers. He looks so fucking mean.
The beat in your chest has turned to syrupy thumps as your legs straighten and contract on either side of him. “You want to be my good girl…” A pop echoes and his cock suddenly weighs in his hand like a weapon. You’re salivating...actually salivating. He pumps slowly back and forth, jaw clenching, his eyes hard as flints. “Don’t make me finish myself on your traitorous face.”
“Mercy,” you gasp. Loki’s grin widens and it touches his eyes. He licks his lips. “Do you want me to stay in character?” he asks quietly as his clothes disappear- everything but the horned diadem on his head.
His shoulders roll and every muscle in his torso tightens, thighs bulging as he clenches against the punishing grip of his fist. You bite your lip, nodding. His eyes flash. “Well chosen,” Interrogator Loki says. The hard edge in his voice has returned with a vengeance and he melts the leather binds holding you with a wave of his hand. “I trust my faith in your repentance is not misplaced,” he says as he crawls up your body with intent. Loki’s hair swings around your jaw, the scent of him, the weight of him. His length presses like metal against your throbbing clit and you buck your hips, trying to catch him. Every thought in your head evaporates as Loki of Asgard buries himself inside you with a shuddering exhale. Your legs wrap around his hips, forcing his ass down, pushing him deeper.
There’s a thud, and then another one; the curve of his horns beating against the headboard. Loki deploys a wolfish smile as his fingers curl around your wrists. “Can’t take any chances with my minx of a prisoner,” he whispers against your cheek. “No mercy,” you moan into his open mouth. It’s a request he understands as he delivers another targeted roll of his hips. “No mercy,” he replies.
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A/N - Have I told you guys how much I love you recently? Because I really do. I hope you know that. x
Tags ( in comments - all of you, soz. Normal way is not workinnng)
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mochie85 · 2 days
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House of Cards
These Wicked Games Collections | Complete Masterlist
Summary: You and Loki finally confront each other about your feelings and what went wrong. Suggested Song: "Fantasy" by The Driver Era Word Count: 2.9K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut. Dominating/Controlling Loki, Angry sex, rough sex.
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Loki’s room was dark and humid. Thick waves of moisture rolled to you from his en suite, bringing with it the scent of his soap and aftershave. He must have taken a shower moments before movie night, you mused to yourself.
As the latch on his door clicked closed, the fireplace roared to life startling you. The heat from the fire only made his scent grow deep and heady. Warm yellow light canvased the room. You followed the flicker of the flames as your eyes took in Loki’s private chambers.
There you were…alone in his room. His sanctuary. A rare opportunity to sneak around and find out more about the intimidating god of mischief. Nothing had changed since that fateful night when you challenged him to Blackjack. That following morning, you were too hurt and busy trying to get out of the mortifying situation you walked yourself into to appreciate anything else.
His desk sat in the middle of the room, facing his bed. A house of cards was meticulously crafted on top— an elaborate pyramid of angles and shapes. Some cards, magically teetering on their corners. You had forgotten your deck that night, in a hurry to leave and lick your wounds from Loki’s casual opinion of your relationship with each other.
You reached out to take one— a discarded card lying on the bottom layer. You focused on the filigree and the cherub on the back cover, greeting you back.
“I thought I told you to wait for me on my bed?” His deep voice froze your movements, squeezing the air from your lungs. You turned quickly to find Loki, already closing the final steps to you.
“Loki, I-” He didn’t let you finish as he seized your lips and invaded your senses once again. His fingers laced themselves in your hair. His other hand pulled your shirt off from behind, popping your buttons, and exposing your breasts that were already spilling over your bra from his groping earlier.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, hoping to melt with him. You needed him closer. You needed his every being to get reacquainted with you. God, it's been so long.
His kiss was never-ending. He didn’t let you catch your breath, stealing your mouth every time you moved to inhale. His lips were so ravenous and demanding that it almost hurt. “…Loki…” you whined.
At long last, his fingers pulled your hair and brought your face up to meet his eyes. “You never do as you’re told, do you, darling? You never listen. Always worried about letting people inside.” His fist in your hair got tighter. His breath was hot and sweet; trying to hold back an emotion you had yet to work out. “Is that why you perfected your poker face? To hide the lies underneath?”
“What lies?!” you asked insulted and slightly afraid. “You lied to me! You used me just to play some game! Toying with me! Just entertainment for the night!” You tried to push him back, but his body was hard and unyielding. You pounded on his chest, trying to get away. But he trapped you in his arms and he wouldn’t let you go.
“You don’t listen! I have already told you, and yet you still pay no heed to my words! Do you even know how the last two weeks have been for me?” he said with a cold glare. “Torture! The moment you walked out of my bed, I started doubting myself. I started doubting you! I never thought you of all people would play me for a game like you do with your cards and tricks.”
He was furious! You had no idea how this would go, where Loki was going with his discourse. You knew Loki would never hurt you intentionally, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly anger and pain. Not knowing terrified you and it also sent a thrill down your spine.
You had hurt him. You can see that now. He was affected as much as you were that night. You could see it in the unshed glimmer in his eyes. “You do care about me,” you realized.
“And what made you think I didn’t?” he demanded. His hold on you tightened. To be in his arms and to know that he was holding back so much of his godly strength. It hurt to almost breathe in his presence. But that was nothing compared to the guilt you felt inside. It hurt to know that you had assumed the worst of him and failed to communicate what you wanted. That you had missed out on two glorious weeks of being with him.
“You said you liked playing games. The way everything unfolded…I- I didn’t know what to think. I had no idea you even looked at me that way! And in mere hours I was splayed like a toy for you in your bed, Loki! What was I supposed to think?! How was I to know that I wasn’t just another conquest for you? That your confession was true?” you yelled back at him.
“Does this feel untrue to you!” he bucked his hips to yours, pushing you against his desk. You let out a carnal moan as you felt the length of him rub against your awaiting clit- throbbing to feel more of him, to be closer to him. The pyramid shook slightly behind you but remained standing. “Perhaps, you need a little reminder…” he growled as he kissed your lips boldly.
Blurring colors started to form and solidify in your head. Memories took shape as if they were tangible moving pictures.
~Loki growled. His fervor and desire ruling all rational thought. “I love that you’re intelligent,” he said as he flattened out his tongue and lapped the juices flowing from your cunt. “…Loki…” “I love how clever you are.” He said giving your sensitive clit a soft kiss. “I love how you’re willing to play my games.” He laughed as he kissed his way up your stomach. He knelt up on the bed, towering over your lustful figure beneath him. His eyes were wild taking in your heavy breathing, your glowing skin, and how utterly besotted you were when you looked at him. Your eyes were hooded and pleading, missing his tongue. Your mouth was open, ready to beg him to continue. “And by the Norns, you look absolutely sinful laying on my bed the way you are now.” He lined his hard cock at your entrance and slammed his way inside your tight folds.~
You felt him thrust towards your aching cunt, as if he was reliving the memory himself. The heavy force of his illusion pushed you back into reality. The house of cards gave way and fell behind you in one fell swoosh.
“You love me,” you whispered to yourself. Tears brimmed your lids as you looked at the truth in his eyes. The realization was heavy and thick; along with the guilt of invalidating his feelings.
Loki closed his eyes as he leaned in to rest his head on yours. He took a deep breath, relieved you had finally understood what he was trying to convey. Your fingers brushed through his silken hair, pulling him closer. Your lips apologized for you as you assailed his beautiful face with kisses. Softly, one after another. His fervid cheeks. His troubled eyes. His sharp chin. He felt each kiss as a prayer of penance asking for his forgiveness.
Your velvet lips turned into passionate kisses the more you held him. Loki returned your fervor with as much desire, if not more. How long has he waited for this? Dreamt of this? Wondering if he’d ever get the chance to kiss you again like this.
He had already granted you his pardon- earlier tonight when you had confessed that you imagined kissing him instead of Rogers. Perhaps even earlier than that, when you sat down on his lap and acknowledged his presence, finally, after weeks of disaffection. You had his forgiveness, but not his mercy.
“Loki, I need you. Please,” you begged. You started to unbutton his shirt, your fingernails nicking and scratching at his creamy skin in haste. “Make love to me,” you whined, wanting to compensate for lost time.
He licked his lips and savored your words. “Oh no, pet,” he chuckled darkly. “Only good girls get made love to...” Loki pushed your shoulders down, laying you on his desk. Your eyes widened in shock as your hair flowed around you, weaving with the cards of the fallen castle. He pulled your legs forward, bringing your hips flushed with his hard cock. “…Bad girls get fucked!”
You took a sharp intake of air as his words rattled your nerves. You heard the zip of his pants as his hands held you down on his desk. He nudged the wet gusset of your panties aside and guided the tip of his cock at your entrance. You moaned shamelessly when you felt him inside you for the first time in weeks.
He let out a shaky breath as he dragged himself up and down through your wet lips. Slowly teasing you, making you squirm with need. “…please…” you said so quietly you thought it was in your head. “…please, Loki…”
He gave into your cries. Into your begging; and thrust quickly inside you. You let out a vulgar moan at the sheer length of him filling you completely. Your knees squeezed around his hips as you tried to slow his assault. Your nails dug into the soft wood of his desk trying to hold on. “Stop resisting, my love. I thought this was what you wanted?” he grunted.
 Your hands gripped his wrist that was holding down your shoulder. He gathered your skirt around your waist and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into you. “Just a little bit deeper…fuck…When I’m…when I’m done with you…I’ll make sure…you can’t walk in the morning…” he vowed. “So, you won’t leave my bed like you did that day.” His rage was palpable and cloying.
“…Loki…” you whined. But that only made him go harder. Faster.
You held the edge of the desk above you, trying to meet his passionate thrust with your own. Strands of your hair fell off to the sides. Your back arched, and you could feel the cards stick to the sweat of your skin.
“You like this, don’t you? Look how wet you are for me.” He watched as your sweet cum coated his shaft, making him groan. You could feel it dripping from you with each hard thrust of his cock. “Do you like it rough?”
“…fuck, Loki…please…”
“You’re enjoying this too much.” His hand moved from your shoulder up to your throat. He grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, “Next time, I’ll just fuck you in front of the team. So, they can see what a begging mess you become for me.”
And he was right. You are a mess. And you are enjoying this too much. You had always prided yourself in being a tough and independent person. But when it comes to Loki, you didn’t hesitate to be cuffed and barred. You didn’t fight it when he chased you. You wanted him to catch you. You wanted his dominance.
Loki bent to hover over you, pinning your hips down to his hard desk. “You are not to leave me. Ever. Do you understand?” his breath came out labored and grunting. “You can storm out angry. You can yell, scream, and fight. Hell, I prefer it. But you are never to leave without returning and talking about it afterward. Is that clear?” He thrust deep to mark his point. You moaned loudly into the stifling air. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders.
“Say it!” he thrust again, demanding an answer.
“yesyesyes…please Loki…I’m a-about to…” you squeezed tighter around him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
“Come on then. Give it to me.” He demanded in your ear. You wrapped your ankles around his waist, keeping him locked to you. Loki stood back up, taking your wrist ad holding them down against his desk. You were trapped in between his corded arms. All you could see was the beautiful face of a god unraveling above you. His slanted brows and his gritted teeth, his deep voice grunting at the feel of your warmth around him.
You could feel the tight pull of his shaft against your walls when he dragged himself out and plunged back in. “Fuck baby, that’s it. Tighter. Come on.”
Your legs shook and you screamed his name one last time. Your orgasm pulses inside you, making every single part of you sensitive and euphoric. Loki followed soon after. His hips jutted forward with each grunt and spill of his climax inside you.
Loki bent over you again. He caged your head between his arms and kissed you softly on your swollen lips. Your hands roamed his back, feeling his powerful muscles contort and contract as he moaned above you. Your nails would scratch on his smooth skin whenever his cock twitched inside you. “Loki.”
Without breaking your kiss, he scooped you up from his desk and walked over to his bed. “…such a good girl for me, darling…” he whispered on your skin. “…taking me all in like that. Good fucking girl...” Your throat was hoarse and stung too much to answer anything above a sigh. His plush blankets welcomed you as he laid you down on top. “…and do you know what good girls get?”
You bit your lip to stop from giggling. Loki lined himself up with your entrance once again and pushed slowly. Your giggles turned into moans as he continued his rhythmic thrust against your heat.
“Look at me, darling,” he asked so sweetly. Your furrowed eyes caught his. “I love you,” he murmured. “I should’ve said it from the very beginning.” He continued at a tantric pace, keeping his stare at yours. You tightened around him and you got a more genuine feel for him. Every vein, every inch, pulling your moans from your lips and leaving you with nothing but the sensation of his love and adoration for you.
He looked deep into your eyes, and you could tell that he was close again. “I love you too,” you whispered. Loki let go. At the same time, your body releases itself into a climax. One of the strongest, and most powerful, ones you’ve ever felt.
His body sunk on top of yours. He was finally letting go of the weight and worry that he held these past weeks. And you welcomed it by holding him tighter against you.
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You woke up the next morning, tender and stinging. The tiniest movement of your hips shot an aching soreness throughout your body. And you smiled. Your mind reeled at the memories of last night. After your shared confessions, Loki took you again in the shower, then on the floor, and then in the shower again. He fucked you in every conceivable space in his room. And then he would make love to every inch of your body afterward.
“Can you walk?” his voice was low and gravelly. The dredges of sleep have yet to release him from their grasp.
“Well, good morning to you too.” You playfully pushed him aside, pretending to be insulted. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a morning kiss.
“Good morning, my love…” he said with adoration. “…Can you walk?” he repeated. You rolled your eyes at him, smiling. You knew the answer before you even attempted to sit up and try to get off his bed.
Your hips felt out of place. Your thighs burned and screamed at being used again so soon after last night. And your feet could barely hold you up threatening to slip. “No, I can’t. Are you happy?”
Loki scooped you up making you yelp and grab hold of his shoulders. “Tremendously, so.” He said kissing you heatedly on your lips.
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Nat sat in the conference room, reading Tony’s mission briefing from the night before. The rest of the team returned early last night and decided to join in on the movie. No one had noticed that you and Laufeyson were missing until Thor asked where his brother was. “They were both very tired. I think they might’ve gone to bed early,” Nat smirked.
And now, here she was watching the two of you come out of the bedroom hallways. A sudden giggle escapes from your lips. She looked over the paper and witnessed Laufeyson carrying you into the kitchen bridal style. “Put me down! I can walk now you know,” you whispered into his ear.
“Oh, darling. We both know I’m too good for that to wear off so quickly.”
“You pompous ass!”
“Yes, one that has your scratch marks all over it!” He gave you a quick peck on the lips, followed by his signature devious smirk. Loki pulled out one of the chairs and sat down with you on top of his lap.
Oh, this oughta be good! Nat neglected the rest of her work on the table and made her way over to the two of you. Loki had conjured a muffin and some coffee for you. While you sat on his lap feeding him grapes like he was Dionysus himself.
“You know, when I dared you to sit on his lap, I meant for the length of the movie,” Nat said coming up from behind you and sitting across the table. “Not indefinitely.”
“Your lovely friend here has been incapacitated, Agent Romanoff.” Loki smiled, nuzzling his nose against the smell of his shampoo in your hair. “I’m afraid she’ll need assistance from here on out. For the foreseeable future.”
“Stop it!” you chided him.
“Make me,” he teased.
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⬅️ Truth or Dare | Hide and Seek (Coming Soon) ➡️
A/N: I guess I wasn't ready to let go of these two yet. This series wasn't supposed to have any major angst or plot. It was just supposed to be a collection of these two characters playing random "adult" games. So, I will try to get back to that thought and update whenever I think of something for them to do 😉.
🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish @capswife @dangertoozmanykids101
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spookyrea · 3 days
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Left Your Mark
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Loki lets you put lipstick on him so you can kiss if off right after.
~900 words, heavy petting-ish?, no use of y/n
A quick drabble drafted up in my carpool home last night. We love coworkers who enable you :)
“Stop squirming," you chastised.
Loki glared up at you. You hovered over his chest, balanced with your hands on his shoulders. His waist was bracketed by your knees on the comforter, your thighs spread wide to accommodate his body under you.
The game you were playing was balanced on a precarious edge; you were never quite sure when Loki's mood could snap, but you loved to test him to find out. Both of you knew that he could overpower you if he wanted. Today, despite the flicker of annoyance in his light eyes, he seemed particularly docile; beneath you he glowered, but continued to play the part of your domesticated little villain as long as it meant he could worm his hands under your ass, his long fingers spread wide to palm the backs of your thighs. He squeezed for good measure, fingertips edging dangerously close to the hem of your shorts. A petulant sound withered in his throat as he flopped, dejectedly, back against the pillows.
You leaned across him and rummaged around inside your bag on the bedside table. You returned triumphant a moment later, a shiny black tube of lipstick in your hand. 
“Is this really necessary?” Loki grumbled, watching you uncap the offending thing. 
“You said I could do whatever I wanted to you,” you replied breezily. “This is what I want.”
“When I promised you anything you wanted, I had expected you to be sitting a bit higher than my chest, darling.” His expression twisted; the pout on his face betrayed his centuries of being waited on hand and foot, a petulance so cleverly honed to get him whatever he wanted from courtiers and kitchen staff alike. Luckily for you, the gallows weren’t an option if you denied him, so you could ignore his moodiness and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching him squirm.
(Though there was undoubtedly a punishment waiting for you after this - you hoped, anyway.)
“Maybe later, if you’re a good boy.” You raised the tube of lipstick and steadied his face with one hand. “Now stop talking.”
You traced the shape of his cupid’s bow carefully, watching the way his skin yielded under the slightest pressure before bouncing back. You filled in his narrow pout with a bright swipe of cherry red, the finish not quite matte, just shiny enough to catch the light in an alluring way. Despite his earlier complaints, Loki went willingly when you pulled on his chin, parting his mouth slightly for better access. The bullet tugged on his bottom lip just slightly, the malleable flesh rolling before coming away with a dark flush of colour.
You wiped away a smudge just under the fullest part of his bottom lip. With one hand under his jaw, you tilted his face up just a hair to look at you. “You’re so pretty, baby.”
His hands tightened around the backs of your thighs, urging you just a breath higher up his body. The bed shifted; with the windows closed, the room was stifling in its silence, so quiet you could hear the sound of the blankets rustling as his shoulders flexed. The cap of the lipstick tube snapped into place. You tossed it over your shoulder, where it disappeared with a muffled thump on the carpet. Loki’s eyes lingered on your mouth, pupils blown wide to soak in every detail of your expression.
You leaned your weight on one hand beside his head and pressed your mouth to his. A sigh escaped him, punched out through his nose when you rocked forward slightly to get a better angle. One of his hands shot out from under you and closed around the back of your neck like a vice, fingertips heavy against the soft hairs at your nape.
You squeaked when his hips rearranged, lifting you up from the bed momentarily. Taking advantage of your surprise, Loki pushed down on the small of your back, encouraging you to lay your full weight on top of him. He tilted his head to the other side, closing his lips around your bottom one; you felt the sticky drag of fresh lipstick under the swell of it, smearing across your chin with purpose. His mouth opened just slightly, plying yours apart to swipe his tongue teasingly across yours, and his top lip brushed the corner where your cheek and upper lip joined.
You pulled away with a slick sound. Loki followed you with a whine, half-lidded eyes still fixed on your bottom lip. The hand on your neck managed to wrestle you back to him, though he missed your mouth by a heartbeat, smearing more lipstick on the corner of your mouth before he managed to slot against your top lip. The faint taste of vanilla, powdery and a little chemically, lingered on your tongue when you licked into his mouth.
“Loki,” you murmured against his mouth. Then, with a sigh as his hand slid back down to palm your ass, “Loki.”
He let you pull away, but not without a great sound of discontent. His chest heaved under yours. His fingers flexed against the meat of your thigh while his thumb dug meanly into the crook of your hip, massaging in circles.  
Both his hands rose to close over your cheeks. His thumbs traced the ring of red around your mouth, lingering with a hunger you knew well. His voice, broken, breathless, rumbled through the quiet space. “Pretty.”
His darkened eyes flickered up to meet yours. Something smoldered behind them, a well of want so deep you felt as though you could drown in it. He drew you down until your mouths were just touching, the barest pressure of skin on skin, so your breaths mingled in that tiny space. He pressed the softest of kisses to your upper lip. “Let’s see what else we can stain, shall we?”
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but-walk-so-theory · 10 hours
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holdmytesseract · 2 days
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Writing Update
Hey, guys! I just wanted to give y'all a short update, 'cause, well... Work is REALLY kicking my ass at the moment. I have barely time for anything in my life besides working, sleeping, and eating. I hate it, but I can't change it at the moment.
Therefore, I also don't have much time to write... Apologies to @gruftiela @simping-for-marvel @asgards-princess-of-mischief @drlucichen @queenoffiresign88 for not writing your Campfire Sleepover requests yet. Please know that they aren't forgotten. I'm trying. 🧡
A few Campfire Sleepover drabbles are already written and saved in my drafts; ready to be posted. Your requests @jiyascepter @muddyorbsblr @mandywholock1980 @captain-camille and one of a sweet nonny. I'll try my best to post them soon. 🫡🧡
Also, I still have quite a few stories up my sleeve, which I can post, so you will definitely have enough to read. 🤗
The Baby Fever wedding is also written and currently waiting to be edited. 🥰
I hope y'all can understand this. 🧡
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Tagging some peeps... @mochie85 @smolvenger @lokisgoodgirl @anukulee @chennqingg @glitchquake @hisredheadedgoddess28 @loz-3 @eleniblue @goblingirlsarah @crimson25 @icytrickster17 @lokidbadguy @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices14 @huntedmusicgardenn @km-ffluv @salvinaa @lcolumbia1988 @lou12346789 @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @lokiforever @lokischambermaid @aagn360 @lady-rose-moon @irishhappiness @totsnotlynn +++
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glorystark · 3 days
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Prompt List
I decided to make a prompt list. It’s still in progress but I’m gonna publish it anyway. REQUESTS ARE OPEN :)
P.S.: It’s mostly angst!
“I told you to not get too close to me.”
“We were never friends.”
“I wish you never had trusted me.”
“From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually.”
“I’m good at hurting people. It’s all I’ve ever done.”
“ I deserve more than this.”
“ You’re hurting me.”
“ I never loved you.”
“Please let me go.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“ Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Not everything is about you.”
“ I want pt you out of my here, and out of my life.”
“Kill me.”
“I can’t trust you anymore.”
“When will you stop lying?.”
“I should have seen it coming.”
“Make it quick please?”
“Forgive me for what I’m about to do.”
“I hate you.”
“You ruin everything.”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“You mean nothing to me.”
“You did this to me.”
“Move or I’ll move you.”
“Repeat yourself, I dare you.”
“I wish I never met you.”
“You ruined my life.”
“I gave you my everything.”
“We are over.”
“It’s too late for apologies now.”
“I’m sorry for us.”
“Of course you didn’t love me, I’m such an idiot.”
“What about the plans we made?”
“Bearing your pain has always been my job.”
“What did you do to make your heart become so cold?”
“Remember how we used to be? I don’t.”
“Look what happened because of you.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“How can you be in love with me when you destroyed all my happinesses.”
“I’m so tired of everything.”
“Stop yelling at me!”
“Get out!”
“I’m falling for you and it’s scaring the shit out of me.”
“What happened to us?”
“I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.”
“Why does our love feel like prison.”
“When I let go, run for your life.”
“I always knew you’d die in my arms.”
“I gave up on us a long time ago.”
“Your eyes can be so cruel.”
“You thought I cared about you? Cute.”
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lokiisdaddyblog · 2 days
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𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 |
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦.
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*Probably will make this a multi part thing but idk I’ll see how it goes🙃*
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You finished plaiting the last braid in your hair before continuing your peaceful stroll along the rushing river in the queens gardens.
You had been welcomed most warmly that dawn by the king and queen of Asgard, but as the princes were on a mission fighting in another realm, you were still yet to meet them.
As a light elf, you had the most radiant spirit and connected deeply with nature. You were a princess, yes, but that wasn’t always what you prioritised. You generally never dressed like one and you never cared for the politics of it all. One of the main reasons you were here now, on Asgard.
After your mother's passing, your father believed that if you spent time around this royal family, that ‘perhaps you’ll learn the proper manners of a princess’, as he had said.
You scoff at the memory. It may have only be recent, but, life hasn't been the same since your mother died. Your father is cold and distant. Life is lonely and dull.
Hour pass as you remain in the gardens, surrounded by animals and natural beauty. So lost in your own train of thought, you don’t even notice that someone has entered your presence.
“I do not believe that maids are allowed unaccompanied in the queens gardens.” The smooth voice snaps your from your trance and you turn to look over your shoulder.
You recognise the man standing before you immediately. Maid...really? Prince Loki; tall, dark, and handsome as ever. Does he really not realise who you are?
You cock your head to the side. “Oh, right. My apologies…my prince.” You bow your head slightly and he raises a brow as you stifle a giggle and run off back to the palace entrance. You decide to reside in your room reading, until dinner time.
----
"My boys. You both look rather dashing." Frigga's soft voice floats throughout the currently empty dining hall.
"Why thank you, mother." Thor replies as Loki smiles silently in response.
"So where is this.. princess.. that is going to be staying with us?" Loki asks, trying his best to hide his intrigue. His current thoughts were solely that of the princess and mysterious 'maid' he had found in the garden earlier that day that he had never seen before.
"Coming right now, and be nice to her, please. She has just lost her mother. She is delicate." Her voice is soft and there's a sadness to it. Your mother was, after all, one of Frigga's closest friends.
The guards open the doors to the dining hall. Meekly, you walk in and bow in front of the royal family before you.
"Rise, child." Odin's voice booms and you flinch slightly.
Frigga smiles fondly and gestures for you to come over. You slowly approach, curls in your hair bouncing slightly as you hold your beautiful, long, flowing dress.
"How are you, my dear?" Frigga asks as she holds your hands in hers.
You hesitate. "I'm okay, your highness."
"Good. And please, call me Frigga." She chuckles. "Here, meet my sons. Thor, and Loki." She smiles proudly.
As you reach a hand out to shake, you realise you shouldn't. Your father would whip your hand if you did that. Not that he's there, but you won't risk it this time. You settle on a curtsy.
"Welcome to Asgard, princess. We are more than happy to have you." Thor shouts kindly. You smile in return, feeling an odd sense of comfort from the large man.
You look over, making eye contact with Loki. He stares back at you, stunned, eyeing you up and down with a curious smirk. You blush and try not to laugh.
"It would seem that Prince Loki and I have actually met already."
---
The room bustled with people, eating their various foods and chatting about nothing. Small talk this, small talk that. Empty conversations will be the death of you.
"So, princess Y/n. How is your father faring?" A rough voice from beside you asks.
You groan internally.
"Quite well. Thank you." You reply through gritted teeth. You smile and silently stand there in hopes that unfamiliar man will leave. But, he doesn't.
"And how is life on Asgard treating you?" Another question you can roll your eyes at.
"Well considering I've been here barely a day, how about I get back to you on that one another time." You throw him a sour smile, handing him your drink before walking away curtly.
You find yourself standing alone in the corner as the night pursues. It seems that gossip travels rather fast here on Asgard as people were already whispering and casting judging glances. Perhaps you were too unnecessarily rude to the man. Well, who cares, maybe it means you can go home quicker.
"You do not care for dancing?" A husky voice asks from behind you.
"You do not care for approaching people like a normal person?" You don't need to turn around to know who it is.
He shrugs, no standing beside you. "I am not a normal person. It is simply part of my charm."
"Well that I sure do not care for." You cross your arms. How much longer until this is over.
"Ouch. You itch so badly to get out of here." He says quietly as he looks out onto the sea of people, who are starting to stare even more so now that you're talking to their prince.
"Don't you?" You scoff. "Look. I've been here a day and already all these people hate me."
"They do not hate you. They simply...misunderstand you, I suppose. Take your honesty as hostility." He shrugs.
"I said one thing! Just the one!" You raise one finger to emphasise and he chuckles in amusement.
"You will get over it, and I assure you, they will too." He tells you, as if he has experienced this before too.
Your eyes widen as you come to a shocking realisation. "If this news gets back to my father he is going to kill me."
Loki scoffs. "Please, with something this tame? I doubt it, princess."
His use of the words princess makes your stomach flip but you ignore the feeling and mumble incoherently back to him.
"I need to shower and organise my room with all my stuff." You say, changing the subject as you anxiously bite your nails, counting down the seconds till you can leave already.
"You do know there is maids for that, right?" He replies smugly, hands tucked into his pockets.
"Yes.. but you do know I'm not one of them, right?"
----
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bean-bean2000 · 2 days
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The Maid - Part 8
Pairing: Loki x reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse and rape.
Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.
Thank you and enjoy!
Series masterlist Main Masterlist
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You spin around the room, taking in your surroundings. You try pulling at the doors, but they're locked. You try the windows, they open but when you try pushing your hand out, an invisible wall materializes and keeps you in.
I can't blame him for not trusting I wouldn't jump....
What now?
Great... I swapped one cell for another... at least this one is luxurious
You sigh heavily as you flop onto the bed. The room is as large as the king's suite, with a joining bathroom. The closet alone in this suite is larger than any home you have ever stayed in.
Everything adorned the colours of Asgard, and of course Loki's emerald green and gold.
You go through the wardrobe, unsurprised to find it fully stocked with pristine gowns and attire fit for a royal.
This room is for a visiting princess or queen. He just put me here for now. I shouldn't get too comfortable...
You suddenly feel anxiety bubble within you.
Surely he will send me back to the maid's quarters... I'm not fit for such royal chambers... or chambers at all for that matter...I can't go back... not after what I just admitted to, i will be ostricized, treated and belittled far worse than ever before for being a traitor!
You begin to panic, circling the room while biting your nails and running your hands through your hair.
I have to get out of here!
You start pulling at the doors again but they won't budge.
Okay, you need to breathe. You take in a few deep slow breaths.
He said I'm safe here... just wait for him to come back... will he come back?
You go into the bathroom and wash your face with cold water to ground you. Admiring the bath tub you notice the intricate details on the tile floor. Standing back you notice they form a snake in the middle of the room.
You turn to the cupboard and notice the luxurious scented oils.
Surely I can take a bath? Will he be mad if I do? If I don't? Am I allowed or was I supposed to just stay in the room and wait for his return?
Before you can let your anxiety get the best of you, you turn the tap on and splash some lavender oils in the tub. You strip yourself of the silk pyjamas Loki provided earlier and soak in the tub.
You sigh as you realize you can't remember the last time you've been this relaxed and you were going to savour every second of it.
You scrub yourself down with the other multitude of bathing products stocked in the bathroom. Once finished, you slowly get out and brush out your wet hair. Relishing in the smell and the feel of how soft and clean it now is.
Going through the wardrobe, you can only find maiden night gowns, which you have always despised. You quickly pick up the green silk top and shorts that Loki originally gave you and put them back on.
You slip into the bed and sink into the soft mattress. Within seconds, you're asleep.
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You wake up a few hours later to the sound of a crow cawing at your window. You groan as you sit up and stretch.
"Sleep well?" you hear a voice from the corner of the room. You scream in surprise and throw the first pillow you can grab towards the sound.
Loki chuckles and he dodges it "I think you're going to need more than a pillow if you really wanted to hurt me."
"I - sorry - I just- I thought I could take a bath while I waited and I - um this is inappropriate I'm sorry -" you ramble as you jump out of the bed and start making it.
"Stop." Loki interrupts your rambling.
" I never ordered you couldn't take a bath or nap or anything. You can do whatever you want. You're not a prisoner." he states slowly.
You look down sheepishly. Loki chuckles quietly again and sits up as he closes his book, from his position on the couch in the corner of the room.
"Lavender is my favourite too. I see you chose to keep my set of nightwear on rather than the ones provided..." a smug smirk forming on his lips and he looks you up and down.
"I - they were just more comfortable. I don't like night gowns." you admit to him, cheeks burning with embarassment.
"There are no rules here. You may do as you please. Whatever makes you comfortable. Do you like the room?"
Caught off guard by his warm approach and the casual conversation you reply but remain guarded.
"Yes. I do. It's bigger than any home I have ever been in."
"You don't trust me." he states matter of fact.
Shocked by his bluntness you stutter out your reply "I don't know what you want, your highness. I am but a maid."
"Oh, you are more than that, darling." he says to you as his eyes lock onto yours. Loki beings to approach you.
Nervousness waves over you. You swallow thickly.
He steps forward, once, twice... suddenly you get scared and take a step back, your arms circling your body. A defence mechanism.
"I understand the lengths at which you have helped me, your highness, and I know not what you desire in return. However, I cannot offer you my maidenhood... for it has been taken from me long ago..."
I will not be your toy to play with.
"Have I ever requested such? I know you are no toy, as you put it. I have never and will never treat you as such. Is that all you think you are worth?" Loki questions.
"Wait... I never said that out loud. How did you know what I was thinking?" you question him, your brows furrow.
"You forget I am a God, darling. I did not mean to read your thoughts, they're sometimes so loud I can hear them." he explains to you.
"Now, you never answered my question. Is that all you think you are worth? Is that all you think I want?" he asks you again.
You shift on your heels, "I have nothing else to give you in return." you reply quietly.
"I ask for nothing in return. I have a debt to pay you, for what you have endured within my castle's walls, which should have never happened to begin with. I am indebted to you." Loki says slowly.
You begin to stutter, unable to form a reply.
"When you said your maidenhood was taken from you long ago... taken is a precise word to use..."
"I know what I said. It has always been taken from me... it was never wanted... not once..." you whisper. You feel tears forming and quickly blink them away.
"I see..." Loki says, hands behind his back and he taps his foot on the tile floor.
"I would like for us to have an arrangement." he declares. "And before you interrupt and assume anything, hear me out. I only want you as my personal maid; and as the kings personal maid you will not stay in the maid's quarters as they are unfit. You will stay here, in these chambers, beside me."
You blink at him with a blank stare. "Um, I -..Yes, your highness -" you reply, knowing no other answer would be accepted anyway.
"Loki.. just Loki, please." he says to you as he walks closer and puts his hand over yours.
For a moment your eyes lock and you feel this spark jolt through your body. Electrifying to the point where goosebumps formed on your arms and you both jolt your hands back in surprise.
You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself.
Loki stares at his hands for a moment and hesitates.
"Care for some lunch?"
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oswildin · 3 days
Text
I Hate You {Loki x GN!Reader}
Summary: Loki hates you. Or does he?
A/N: Avengers AU, mentions of ‘damsel in distress’ but no gender specifics or use of ‘y/n’
Warnings: Mentions of blood/injury
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“Absolutely not-“
“No way-“
“Me with them?”
“Us?”
“Wouldn’t work-“
“Never in a million years-“
“I refuse to be on a mission-“
“-with him.” “-with them.”
Well, unfortunately for you, Fury didn’t give a rats ass that you and Loki did not get along. No, he expected professionalism and success. And that was hard when it came to Loki. He made everything so… difficult. He was arrogant, smug, annoying, grating and, quite frankly, a drama queen. Every mission he had been sent on had something happen - usually because of his penchant for mischief. He also deliberately did things around the compound to irritate you.
For example, the other morning he used your favourite mug, feigning naivety about the fact, labelling it an ‘innocent mistake’. But you knew better. And the glint of mirth in his eye when he said it told you all you needed to know. He also enjoyed moving your things - yes, you should know better than to leave your phone or keys or other items laying around in the common area, but at the same time, you were grown adults. In fact, he was over 1000 years old. Completely childish.
“Sounds like Rudolf has a crush.” Tony had said.
Ridiculous.
You hated each other. And Loki made that clear. He’d also often start arguments, especially in front of the others. Natasha suggested maybe he just enjoyed getting a rise out of you, or that he was trying to cover the fact that he did in fact like you. But you knew better than that. No, Loki Laufeyson just saw you as an easy target, knew you would react. It was entertainment for the God.
But anyway, the mission.
You both had been sent to a rather large warehouse, an underground arms dealer had been storing weapons there - of both alien and human nature. You’d both split up, entering from each end of the warehouse, covering both sides. Of course, you were met with guards, which you swiftly dealt with.
“You know, if you need a hand-“ Loki’s voice came through your earpiece, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Focus on yourself, Laufeyson.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you began to venture further into the warehouse. “I don’t need your help.”
“Very well. Continue with your brute force.”
“It isn’t ’brute force’, it’s called combat.”
“Of course, my mistake.”
Asshole.
He knew what he was doing. You could envision the amusement on his sharp features, the glint of smug mirth in his blue eyes. God, he was so annoying.
“‘My mistake’ my ass.” You muttered, pursing your lips as you began to survey the area.
“I can still hear you.”
You paused for a moment, before clearing your throat. “Good.” You retorted, raising a brow. “Then you can hear how I don’t appreciate you downplaying my abilities in this mission.”
“I never said such a thing.”
“Just focus on the mission.”
“I can do both at the same time. I’m rather talented at multitasking-“
“Loki-“ You hissed, frustration mounting with your partner. The God went quiet, probably to bask in his small victory of winding you up. You rounded the corner of a large shelving unit, seeing a load of crates, clearly ready to be shipped off to whoever. You had to admit, it was strange it was easier than anticipated. You’d expected far more guards and security… No, something was off.
Approaching the crates, you pried the lid off one, seeing it was empty. You furrowed your brows, moving to another, doing the same. Empty.
“Shit.” You whispered.
One more.
Prying open another crate, what you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Loki, get out.” You told him lowly through the comms, letting out a breath as you quickly turned on your heel. “It’s a trap, they knew we were coming- Just get out!” You urged, beginning to run.
“What? What did you find?”
“An explosive, now move!” You exclaimed, legs sprinting away from the crates, the explosive device.
You had ten seconds.
Loki’s expression turned serious, brows creasing, lips turning into a thin line as your voice came through his earpiece. He cursed under his breath, feeling panic creep up on him. You were a mortal, yes, a competent one at that but still a mortal.
“I’m coming.” Loki spoke into his earpiece, turning to head your direction, despite your warning.
“No- Loki, just go!” Your frustrated, slightly panicked, voice came through.
“Too late.” He quipped back, speeding up his long strides. However, before he could hear your voice argue back, the loud sound of the explosion sounded from the opposite end of the large warehouse, shaking its foundations. Loki let out a breath, eyes wider than before. You hadn’t told him how long he had, you had. He felt fear grip him. He called your name through the comms, breathing turning slightly heavier. When he didn’t get a response, a shiver went through him. His long legs began to sprint, forgetting completely about the mission. He had to get to you. By the Norns, he hoped you were okay.
Yes, it was true. He did annoy you. He loved winding you up, he loved when you got angry, when you snapped at him, gave him attention. Maybe it was childish, but it was his default. Any attention was good attention, and oh, how he vied for yours specifically. It was also partly that he just… didn’t know how to get your attention any other way. He wasn’t exactly… Well versed in… Romance. Sure, he’d read novels, but it was very difference in practice. Especially as the God of Mischief.
“Say something!” Loki exclaimed through his earpiece, a command and a plea.
However, nothing.
His heart, yes - of course he had one, beat faster. Anxiety. Fear. Adrenaline. It was all coursing through his veins. Smoke began to appear, thick and fog like as he summoned a blast of magic, dispelling it with a wave of his hand, allowing him to clear a path. The roof of the warehouse had partially caved from the explosion, rubble and debris ahead littering the ground and shelving units. He called your name again, and again.
You groaned as your brows creased, feeling a pain in your leg as you tried to sit up. You winced, glancing down to see a large metal beam had landed on your right leg, holding you down. Cursing under your breath, you heard the sound of your name being called through the sound of your ears ringing.
Loki.
“H-“ You coughed. “Here-“ You called back, voice raspy. “Over here!” You raised your voice slightly, forcing yourself to sit up, dust and dirt covering your form. After a moment, footsteps rushed towards you, clambering over the rubble as you looked up. Loki’s blue eyes instantly travelled over your form, looking for any injuries, before they landed on the beam and your leg.
“It’s okay- I’m going to get you out of here, alright?” Loki spoke calmly, despite his breaths being quicker than usual. You assumed it was from running. In fact, it was his panic. “I need to lift this-“ Loki shifted, rubble moving under his boots as he approached the beam. Luckily, it weighed nothing for a God. You winced as the pressure lifted from your leg, hearing the beam clatter loudly to the floor as Loki discarded it.
“You need to tell Fury-“ You began, slightly wheezy, moving to try and hoist yourself up. Loki’s brows furrowed.
“Forget about that-“ He told you firmly.
“Loki, SHIELD need to know-“ You argued, feeling his hand grab your shoulder to keep you on the ground.
“No, we need to get you outside and help-“ He rebutted, making you groan in irritation.
“Why can’t you just listen to me for once?!” You huffed, looking at him angrily.
“Because right now, you are more important than the mission!” Loki’s own voice raised, his words hanging in the air between you both. You blinked. “You’re hurt and you’re mortal-“
“Really? Throwing cheap shots at a time like this-“ You said defensively, moving to try and shove his hand from your shoulder. Loki let out an irritated growl.
“No! It’s because I care about you!”
Silence.
“What?” You whispered, lips parted in shock. Loki closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.
“I…” He sighed. “I care… about you.” He murmured, meeting your gaze, searching - looking for any sign of understanding, recognition, something. “And… I know- I know I may not… show it in a… conventional manner-“ You almost scoffed. “But please, let me get you outside and then we can deal with Fury.” He held your gaze, nodding faintly, willing you to accept his words, accept his help. He truly, just wanted you to be okay. Your eyes flickered briefly down to your leg, seeing the red beginning to stain your mission gear as you felt your muscle throbbing. You didn’t think anything was broken, but a gash was a gash. It could get infected, it could be worse than it looked…
Silently, you gave a small nod. You swore you heard Loki let out a breath - yes, he had been holding it, waiting with bated breath for your agreement. “Right-“ He muttered quietly, shifting to get closer, kneeling down. “Arm over my shoulders-“ He told you lowly. “This may be… uncomfortable.” He warned before moving one arm around your waist, another under your knees, shifting your injured leg as you bit your lip to stop from making any sound of pain. “Okay?” He asked, eyes scanning your features, seeing the way you were biting your lower lip. You quickly nodded, giving him a look that said ‘hurry up, please’. Loki’s blue eyes shifted, softening, hating seeing you in pain.
It was strange. Seeing such a look from the God of Mischief, whose eyes were usually home to mirth. He cared about you. Tony’s words echoed in your head. Had Loki truly… had feelings for you this whole time? And like some… school boy had been showing his ‘affection’ by… teasing you? Testing you? Being irritating to get your attention?
Your thoughts were disrupted as Loki finally moved, hoisting you up with him as he stood to his full height, keeping you securely against his chest as he carried you bridal-style. The urge to make a quip about not being a ‘damsel in distress’ lingered on your tongue. Loki gently carried you, trying his best not to cause any further harm or pain to your leg.
“You really care about me?” Your voice finally spoke, breaking the silence that had lingered between you both since his confession. Loki’s lips parted, as if he was about to deny it - out of instinct. The quickly pressed together again.
“Is now really the time?” He asked lowly, raising a brow. “You’re bleeding, and I’d rather you didn’t get blood on my attire. It’s Asgardian leather.” He commented, lips quirking ever so slightly as he watched your eyes roll.
“For Gods-“ You muttered. “Put me down if you’re gonna be an asshol-“
“Okay, alright-“ He cut you off, sighing. “Fine.” He huffed, clearing his throat as he headed towards the entrance you’d first entered the warehouse in, deftly avoiding any debris that was strewn about on the floor. “Yes-“ He said, tone still huffy. “I thought that was obvious-“
“Obvious?!” You repeated in disbelief, the conversation helping take your mind off your wound. “You irritate me, do things to deliberately annoy me, argue with me-“
“You do the same.” He interrupted, tilting his head slightly as his gaze flickered over your face. Your lips parted in confusion and, almost, offence.
“No, I do not-“ You shook your head lightly.
“You do.”
“No- I don’t-“
“You’re doing it right now, arguing with me-“
“Because you started it!”
You both were outside by the time you’d finished, Loki still holding you as he came to a stop, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Yes, and you are always so intent on finishing it.” He quipped, making you narrow your eyes at him. “It’s extremely entertaining.” He shrugged slightly, your arm that was slung over his shoulders moving with him.
“Oh, well, I’m glad I could be of service.” You said wryly, turning your head to glance towards your leg. “I suppose I should thank you.” You mumbled reluctantly.
“Ah, yes-“ He nodded. “You really should.” He paused, raising a brow, feeling much better knowing you were okay. The fact you were arguing with him was a sign of that. “Perhaps you could buy me dinner?” He suggested, tone full of mischief. “There’s a lovely place just opened up in the city, Stark mentioned it-“
“You mean the five star, gourmet restaurant that costs an arm and a leg?” You scoffed.
“Seems fitting considering you nearly lost one.” He teased, making you raise your free hand, whacking him in the chest. “Ow!” He whined, brows furrowing, lips pursed. “Usually heroes get a kiss from the damsel in distress, not assaulted.”
“I hate you.”
“And I hate you.”
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fluffyfantasticducky · 14 hours
Text
Utterly Infuriating
☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader ☆ Synopsis: Loki is very bad with people, so meeting anyone new just means a new enemy, and you didn't seem to be the exception. And the way you start getting along seems to indicate so. But... perhaps that's not entirely true. ☆ Word Count: 8,607 ☆ Notes: Playful tickles, (a probably very bad) enemies to lovers. @blehblahsworld requested an enemies to lovers and secret dating Loki x Reader, I hope it's more or less what you hoped for. ☆ Warnings: Heavily headcanonned (is that a word?) Loki. This is my first (and probably only) enemies to lovers, the beginning isn't very good because of that, other than that it's a lot of playfulness and tickles. Lots of flashbacks to what I imagine Loki's childhood would be, I just have a weird obsession of writing nostaglic!Loki stuff, I am so sorry.
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Who would have thought that Loki would end up becoming part of the group he had tried to take down in the first place? It was laughable, really. People he thought just a thorn in his side were now his first genuine group of friends.
But here he was.
He learned to find humor in Stark and Barton’s sarcastic quips. He got along with Banner, who he found comfortably quiet to read books or drink tea with. He learned to fear and admire Romanoff’s skill and cold mind under pressure, but also adored challenging himself to try tricking her (he wasn’t successful for the most part). He came to admire Roger’s leadership and strong values, and of course reconnecting with his brother was something he’d never admit how much it meant to him. And he learned how much forgiveness and that sense of belonging fulfilled him.
He was a bit surprised that in 10 years the group had grown at least 4 or even 5 times its size. They had gone from 6 heroes to 30 something, with half of them being permanent residents on the Headquarters while the rest came and went.
That’s where he met you. Gods, he didn’t know how there could be someone so insufferable. You were worse than Thor.
You were bright and bubbly, always wore your heart on your sleeve, contrary to him who who always hid his feelings. Loki was a charmer, deliciously cynical and the life of the party if he chose to join, you on the other side where a bit shyer and not the greatest fan of crowded rooms unless it was full of friends; it quite reminded him of the anxiousness he felt as a prince in Asgard, always worried about being seen making a mistake, he was sure you felt exactly that kind of stress.
Seen that way, you and Loki were like day and night. It was no wonder you and Loki hated each other at first side.
“Brother! Come quick!” Thor called. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet!”
Loki sighed and left his book on the little coffee table and got up, Thor’s voice came all the way from the kitchen (loud as always) so he took a bit to reach the kitchen, and as he got closer to the room he noticed laughter and sweet scent filled the air.
It was Thor’s familiar boisterous laughter that made the buildings shake, and a new unfamiliar laughter.
He arrived and saw a Rogers, Romanoff, Thor, Stark and… someone new. That new person was cooking pancakes for dinner and when he turned around… you were like opening the door on a cold winter night after being by the fire all day. Overwhelming for sure.
“Brother what is going on…?”
You had a bright grin on your face and announced Rogers to think fast. Steve chuckled and lifted his plate and soon a pancake flew through the air, nearly hitting Loki in the head had he not ducked in time, before smacking against the plate in Rogers’ hands. Everyone cheered and laughed.
“What the—?!” Loki gasped.
“We got a new friend!” Thor claimed brightly.
“We met at the gym” Natasha announced. “I knew I had met a mutant when I sparred with someone who didn’t hit the floor in the first 3 seconds.”
You smiled timidly and walked to the fridge, lowered and with a single hand and a loud creek, the fridge was lifted effortlessly from the floor.
“Oh.” Loki said uninterested. “Can I go back to my book?”
“I thought I could make dinner as a thank you for being so welcoming” you smiled politely.
“Welcoming?” Loki asked, tilting his head.
“I’m moving here” you grinned brightly.
You know how people sometime tense up when they try to hide their excitement? Well, Loki tense up for the exact opposite reason.
“Remember that empty room beside yours?” Tony smiled brightly. “It’s not gonna be empty anymore.”
Even better.
“What do you like in your pancakes? Chocolate? Nuts? Berries?” you smiled warmly.
“Uh… nuts and berries?” Loki said.
The dinner was delicious, he could give you that. But the second he finished he excused himself wanting to go to bed early. He went to pick up his book before going to his bedroom.
“Ah, brother. There you are.” Thor smiled, already in his pajamas, white and blue stripped pants, a white t-shirt with a stamp of Mjolnir with a cutesy face. “I wanted to talk to you. About our new friend? What do you think? Friendly, right?”
“Awfully” Loki rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think I’d met someone as loud as you. I already have a headache. I know for sure life here has just become infinitely more aggravating…”
“Brother… don’t be like that…” Thor said sadly. Loki simply sighed and went inside his room.
Next morning he saw you again for breakfast. Everyone had their own schedule so to eat there was only Wanda, Loki, Bucky, and you. You helped to make breakfast and you ate quietly, finished quickly and picked up the plates of everyone to put it on the dishwasher and it started running.
“You’re quite helpful…” Wanda smiled warmly.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I wouldn’t want to be aggravating” you smiled brightly, giving a quick glance at Lki that might as well have killed him before leaving the kitchen.
Since then Loki and you hated each other, you argued on daily basis. If Loki said red, you said blue, if he said up you said down.
It even got in the middle of missions. It was only a matter of time until your constant clashing blew up in everyone’s faces.
It wasn’t the greatest idea to send you and Loki on the same group either. But Steve thought it’d help you two get along better if you fought side by side for a mutual goal. It was a nice, but perhaps too innocent thought.
The mission was simple, as Tony called it “bad guys had hostages” situation. There was a bit of intel Nat and Bucky were interested in, hoping to find other settings where potentially more people could be in danger. So it had to be a smooth infiltration and until finding the civilians then it was “breaking stuff” time… Tony should not be allowed to name missions at this point. It made it difficult to take them seriously.
You had been left alone with Loki to find where the hostages were being held captive while Nat went to find the main computer to gather the information while the rest of the group started surrounding and sabotaging the headquarters to cause a diversion and given you a quick escape, plus neutralizing a threat.
Loki wanted to do things his way, as usual. But you had managed to sneak into a clothes hut and you got uniforms to pass undetected… Very much against Loki’s will given he kept arguing he could’ve just casted an illusion.
“This is absurd” Loki scoffed as he put on a shirt gray shirt. “We’re wasting valuable time. My illusions—”
“—Would’ve been casted off the second someone lays a hand on us” you reasoned, doing your best, although fruitless attempt not to sound annoyed at him. “These guys are weirdly touchy, a hand on your shoulder and your done for.”
Loki turned around to give you a snarky comeback, only to be cut off when he saw you changing. You both had been facing opposite directions to give each other privacy, but his attitude got the best of him.
He did not expect the sight he was greeted you as he saw you dressing up.
Your body was toned thanks to the training, and it showed the overly demanding lifestyle and dieting being an Avenger required. It was weird you were muscled like one would expect, given your mutation focused on your physical strength, although he didn’t really know how that worked so he just figured that was part of it. But one would easily tell you trained on a daily basis.
He was mesmerized, even smiling softly at you.
When you turned around you caught him staring and your face turned bright red and you let out a loud screech. Loki panicked and tackled you to cover your mouth.
But it was too late. A guard gave opened the door and the alarms started sounding. It was time to run if you wanted to rescue the hostages.
“What happened?!” Steve spoke through the comms. “The alarms are going off!”
“We were caught!” you called. “Loki—!”
“—tried to save me but I blew it!” Loki cut you off.
“It was your fault!” you snapped at him. “We gotta rush to get the hostages!”
“We need to get the intel we were set to do first…” Loki argued, “we can’t lose the input if the other hostage locations.”
“I’m not abandoning the hostages here, we’re getting them first!” you argued.
“We’re not gonna do either if you guys don’t focus!” Natasha argued through the communicator.
A thing of these groups that became quite cliché was there was always a bunch of guys the were big. Mutants as well. Big, tall and sturdy, almost like human walls, not very smart but insanely strong. He had an axe the size of a human.
You clashed your fist against the guard’s axe and it made you both recoil to process the soreness the impact caused on both of you. This guy clearly had a similar level of raw strength as you. So you wouldn’t be winning this on your own.
You turned to ask for Loki’s back up, but a green fog formed on the spot as Loki vanished on thin air. Not only leaving you on your own, but making the battle field a blurry mess.
“Loki?!”
“Sorry, mortal.” Loki said sarcastically. “We can’t let you ruin the mission.”
“LOKI!” you yelled as you barely dodged a swing from the axe.
“Trickster, go with Romanoff to get the intel!” Tony stated as he flew above the enemy base, knocking out a couple of troupes with his missiles. “Hercules, go with Cap to get the hostages! Go! Go! Go!”
The rest of the mission was a blur, the hostages barely escaped alive, and a few were harmed and had to be treated in the flight back home, and Natasha was injured when she got an ambush from the guards when she was downloading the data.
Even after missions were a nightmare for everyone around you two. The entire trip was loud and obnoxious.
“You had to back me up when the big guy shows up! Not just vanish from the fight!”
“Excuse you, that fight wouldn’t have taken place t begin with if you hadn’t blown our cover!” Loki yelled at you. “You’re lucky my mist cloak allowed us a clean exit!”
“Clean exit?!” you screamed back, poking his chest. “I got a slash on my leg because I couldn’t see where I was going!”
“Yeah, and if you could stay still and not scream so much, I’d patch you up easier” Natasha said half amusedly.
“Sorry Nat…” you apologized, your mood changing completely to warm and friendly.
Thor pulled his brother to the other end of the ship to try having some peace and quiet until they got home.
Of course, Fury was… well, furious.
“You pair of moronic and irresponsible idiots!” Fury said. “It’s a fucking miracle no one is died while the two of you fought like kindergarten brats! Suspended. Both of you. 3 weeks.”
“What?! Director!” you whined.
“Director nothing! Let’s see if this time alone helps you two get along better.” Fury scoffed. “Dismissed.”
Loki on the other hand, didn’t argue. Men with Nick Fury’s temper couldn’t be reasoned with when they were this pissed. He would know, he grew up with two at home. So he just nodded and left the room when he was told to.
It would be a long lock down.
You weren’t much more pleased with the decision, given that after this mission you had plans to go out to the city and now you were essentially grounded like a 5 year old. Downsides of living in the compound, every so often, if you messed up real bad you’d be “grounded”.
Loki too had plans ruined by this. Not the type the others had, who went to big events or dated civilians who they could stay over for a few days when they had time off. Loki didn’t even have friends outside of the Avengers… or at all. But he had learned to enjoy going into the city and indulge in some human theater, casting an illusion to conceal his identity of course, otherwise people would panic. But he liked it, but the dramatic costumes, the theatrical               and embellished of speaking of some plays, and the occasional musical that had always a song or two stuck o his brain for a few weeks.
But now that wouldn’t happen until next month. Instead he was stuck with someone he couldn’t stand and that couldn’t stand him back. Great.
The next day of when everyone left to live their lives out of the compound while he stayed locked in his room for as long as he could. He read, he had a little cloth ball that he threw up and caught, he used his illusions to entertain himself, and he even used his phone to try entertaining himself for as long as he could, but sooner than later he grew bored.
He wasn’t the type to be able to stay still, and he got out of his room to walk around the compound, his legs already itching to get a good walk.
As he stretched his body with a nice walk and he felt his mood already boosted a little. He was by the kitchen when he heard music, and not just music, but a song he recognized.
“It’s time to try defying gravity. I think I’ll try defying gravity. Kiss me goodbye, I’m defying gravity. And you won’t bring me down” he heard the song he very much he liked.
As he walked by the kitchen following the song he was greeted with yet another pleasant surprise. A sweet aroma of one of his favorite treats as a kid, apple pie. He remembered being a young child in Asgard, pulling all the tricks and spells in his arsenal to steal the baked goodies from the talented Pastry chefs the palace had in its staff.
His Odin and Frigga impressions became as good as they were due to impersonating them to request for apple pies when his mother made the kitchen “Loki proof” with her magic. He used to eat it so much that right before he turned a teen, he got quite chubby from how much and how often he ate it. At some point he resigned to his baked love in favor of losing weight and becoming a more efficient warrior… although every so often there would be a party and he’d be sure to get a big slice of apple pie to indulge on his guilty pleasure.
Long story short, he absolutely loved apple pie and just the smell made his mouth water and his stomach growl.
He found his feet moving on his own to the kitchen and he didn’t have time to process you were the only one at home, ergo, it was you who he found in the kitchen, baking, and dancing, and singing along the music. He realized right away you hadn’t realized were no longer alone. You had that lack of shame in your dance that one could only have when they were completely alone, his mind wandered to the accidental peep he got at your body during the mission. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, he hadn’t seen you so relaxed and carefree, even with your bubbly and energetic nature.
Unfortunately, that soft chuckle gave away his presence.
“Ack!” you screech dropping pie onto the floor, your face red like a tomato.
Loki barely reacted fast enough to cast a spell of to catch the pie inches above the ground, but sparing the baked treat and burning to the counter.
It smelled heavenly.
“My apologies, mortal” Loki chuckled, sounding more amused than sorry, although he didn’t mock you, doubting you would be wiling to share your cooking with someone who made fun of him. “I swear I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
“You did!” you scolded him with a beet red blush along your face, Loki surprised himself finding it quite endearing. “God dammit, is it a pastime of yours creeping up on me?!”
“I wasn’t aware you liked Wicked too…” Loki mentioned, changing the subject, wanting to get on your good side. And it worked, because your expression changed, you seemed surprised.
“You like musicals?” you said with a slight smile. “I didn’t take you for someone to like human stuff.”
“Well, a misunderstood character that gets people thinking them a monster because of their skin color and decides to accept that they can only be a villain because that’s the only think you get to be? Might as well be my autobiography.”
“Don’t forget the green and black color aesthetic” you giggled, making him laugh as well. “And a bit snobby.”
“Yeah, I suppose that too.” He smiled.
“I never thought of it like that” you said. “Was it that bad? Being an Elphaba?”
The way you said felt quite soft, kind. It stirred something in his chest.
“To be perfectly fair, I found out I was a frost giant when I was 1,048 years old” Loki admitted. “But at the time I felt like I was going insane. Frost giants were monsters, and in a constant state of imminent war with Asgard…”
“I can imagine you felt like the enemy of everyone you loved” you said sympathetically. “It must have been awful…”
“Earth was a witness to how badly it affected me…”
“wait! New Mexico and New York were the collateral damage to an identity crisis and a mental breakdown from a twenty-year-old?!” you exclaimed, your chin against the counter and tugging on your hair.
Loki shrunk in his place.
“You’re telling me it could have been solved with some therapy, a cup of tea, and probably a hug?”
Loki was a bit surprised that your response wasn’t as aggressive towards him, if anything it irradiated a weird mix of anger and empathy.
“There was also a hint of mind control” Loki defended himself.
“Yeah right, a wizard did it.” You smiled amusedly, and weirdly enough, it made him laugh. “We all saw that you had to touch people’s chests with the pointy end to make it work.”
“I mean it” he smiled. “The mind control from the scepter Thanos gave me came from the time stone in it, and it fueled those around him with anger and left them vulnerable to obey orders if you held onto it for long enough. Banner has pointed out he and the others felt it too. I felt so much… I don’t know… rage? …I didn’t realize what was going most of the time… it wasn’t until I had lost that I truly realized what I had done… and it took even longer for me to realize the gravity of my actions…”
That seemed to convince you, and Loki felt a weird relief from you believing him. You stayed in silence for a while.
“That’s heavy…” you mumbled, not sure what else to tell him, and you offered him your hand.
He wasn’t sure what made him place his hand on your and you gave him a little squeeze, before gently caressing his knuckles with a touch so sweet that made thrills go down his spine. You smiled at him.
“Well… You are one of us freaks now” you smiled softly in a way that made him feel warm and fuzzy.
He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, feeling his face uncharacteristically hot as he looked down and to his side, just trying to avoid your gaze. You laughed and tried following where his gaze pointed towards, looking at the warm pie on the counter.
“Want some?” you offered, tilting your head to point to the pie and Loki’s stomach grumbled, almost in an involuntary affirmation. He really should’ve had breakfast. You laughed and cut him a big slice and Loki’s mouth water.
He hadn’t really been looking at the pie, but he sure didn’t argue back if you offered him some. The taste was divine. He couldn’t help a rather inappropriate sounding hum of pleasure.
“Oh Norns, what did you put in this?” he asked, his mouth half full of the sweet pie. “These tastes so different from… Mmm! Oh Norns!”
“Ah, just the usual, flour, eggs, milk, apple marmalade, sliced apples, sugar, cinnamon” you listed.
“Cinnamon? What is this cinnamon?” he spoke happily as he ate more. “What kind of apples? They feel so different… Mmmm! This is amazing!”
Loki felt like a child again. For a moment he forgot of everything, he ate messily, a bit of marmalade falling on his shirt which never used to happen. He ate loud and let out happy moans and hums as he enjoyed the pie.
He ate so fast he didn’t realize he had almost finished the huge slice until he saw you serving him another huge, warm, sweet, slice of pie. You didn’t shame him, you simply giggled and smiled brightly at him.
He ate more until he was stuffed… Which happened only once he had finish most of the pie. If anything, what he didn’t eat could be barely called a slice. He felt a bit ashamed from his lack of self control, he hadn’t behaved like this since he was a child. He even let out a small airy burp.
“Excuse me…” he apologized, his face burning from shame.
But rather than being disgusted, you burst out laughing. Loki grimaced from shame.
“Sorry, sorry” you laughed. “Adopted or not, you truly are Thor’s brother. You Asgardians sure have a huge appetite.”
Loki smiled. Despite it being a teasing statement, it didn’t feel aggressive, and so it drew a happy laugh from him. You had a charm to you he couldn’t help but smile and feel like a kid around you.
“You’re so…” he growled with a big grin.
“Aggravating?” you said with a weak smile.
Ah, that. He now regretted his words from the first day you two met. He was such a fool. He saw someone loud and bright and decided you were annoying. But while those first statements were true, you were a delight to have around. And a great baker.
“I should probably… a-ap… um… I haven’t been the best God to be around… Ah… I want to… a— apolo— uh…”
“Apologize?” you smiled and he gulped, before nodding. “Apology accepted. I haven’t been the easiest person for you to deal with… I’m sorry too. Want the last slice?”
Just like that? He didn’t understand how he got away with it so easy. But the offer of the last slice made him nod and you served him the last bit of the pie. Your apology was a bit short too, but as you were placing the last slice on his plate, he noticed your face turn bright red. You didn’t seem much better at apologizing. But the effort was there.
He was flooded by a happy memory of his family.
He had failed to convince on of the pastry chefs to make him a pie. He went to climb a special tree on his mother’s garden where he hid to self-contain his tantrums, knowing that his Seidr went out of control when he was upset.
He didn’t know how long he was up there when he heard someone calling him. Frigga.
“Loki? Child? Are you up there?” a voice called him.
“No! I’m not!” he whined.
He heard Frigga laugh and a sudden sweet aroma filled his nose that made his anger fade away. Apple pie.
“C’mon brother, you come down or I’ll go get you!” he heard Thor calling him playfully. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little bit.
“If he doesn’t, I will!” a third voice added.
Loki jolted and jumped down from where was hiding from the tree, falling right on his father’s arms and both tumbled down onto the grass. Odin didn’t often have enough free time to escape his duties and spend quality time around his family. But every once in a while, he sneaked out of his royal duties so all four could do something together.
The rest of the evening they sat together on Frigga’s garden to eat apple pie together, playing and laughing together, and this had been one of the rare occasions where he could outshine Thor, showing the new trick Frigga had taught him. Having the little flower he had picked jump from his hands and onto his brother’s head now as a frog who screeched and fell backwards, making everyone burst out laughing.
It had been one of those happy days full of laughter and joy. Thor and Loki fought with wood swords and both parents chased their kids pretending to be a pair of Bilgesnipes but trapping them in tickle hugs only for both brothers to team up and try returning the favor to their parents… key word: tried.
Loki felt his eyes water a bit and he let out an airy laugh as he wiped his tears. He felt a bit foolish for letting all his anger and insecurities let him forget all those happy days. And letting himself and everyone in his family be drowned in royal duties as he and Thor slowly approached the age of one of them ascending the throne.
“Hey, I didn’t my apple pie was that good” you joked, but still passed him a napkin to clean his eyes.
“S-Sorry, no… yes, it’s um… it’s very good.” He said, feeling a knot on his throat. “Thank you so much… for… f-feeding me. I hadn’t eaten one of these in a few decades. It was…”
“Nostalgic?” you finished the phrase for him, and he nodded. For a silver-tongued guy, he was very bad at expressing his feelings. “It’s okay… Just say the word and I’ll make more for you.”
He smiled and sighed as he wiped the last tears.
“Thank you.”
“Sure…” you nodded and your cheeks turned red. “Hey… uh… since you don’t hate me anymore… maybe we could watch a movie together in the lounge room. Maybe. If you want.”
That made Loki laugh.
“I hated you?! You made it a ritual to disagree with me and get on my nerves, or do I remind you that you are half to blame for the two of us being in a lockdown?!” he said, but he found no anger in his voice, if anything he sounded amused.
The way your face contorted into a funny ashamed grimace made him bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh.
“Maybe… but what was I supposed to do?! I thought you hated my guts!”
“Perhaps let your pride aside for a mission?!” Loki laughed.
“I could let my pride aside had you not mortified it” you grumbled.
Loki froze for a second. The phrasing was different, but he knew exactly what you were referring.
“You like Jane Austen?!” he gasped.
“You like Jane Austen?!”
“I met her!” Loki exclaimed and casted an extremely old book, but it was extremely well kept. “I got this book. “I didn’t come to earth often, but I loved to make little trips to get books. I got this book for my 848th birthday, it’s quite literally a first edition.”
“No way!” you said fascinated as you looked at the book and skimmed through the pages and noticed a scribble and you nearly dropped on the floor. “IT’S SIGNED?! I HATE YOU!”
You grabbed the book and ran.                           
“HEY! GIVE IT BACK, YOU THIEF!” Loki laughed and chased after you, feeling a flutter in his chest he had never felt.
He chased you around the compound and when he got in range he casted a concealment spell to protect his precious book but now you were in trouble.
Now, he knew you better than he’d ever admit, and he knew that you were one of those mutants that had quite literally god-like strength, just like the spiderling. Although your powers were limited to better stamina, superhuman strength and considerably better speed than an average mutant, but not quite outstanding in that group. And thank goodness because a weakness you had were two left feet and constantly having missteps.
Just like one that given the rush of adrenaline made you drop behind the couch and Loki jumped, sitting on your waist, straddling you with his legs and he struggled to pin your arms to each side of your head. Your faces inches away from each other’s, your breaths were getting mixed from the proximity as you both panted after the chase.
Norns, you smelled like flowers and that delicious apple pie. And your lips, half parted were just so inviting… And… no one would know if…
Before he acted, you had pressed your mouth against his, kissing him fervently and he did not object a single bit, kissing you with a passion he hadn’t realized he felt, always too busy with his misconception of you. But now that he had a taste of you he was going wild with the amount of desire in his gut. You were gorgeous, sexy, funny, caring… very… very sexy.
“I’m sorry…” he breathed heavily. “I was an utter, bumbling fool… I’m sorry… I was the aggravating one, and I judged you too fast.”
“I’m sorry too… I was stupid too, I got too defensive and aggressive…” you whispered against his lips, filling his body with warmth and electricity. “I’m so sorry for being a pain in the ass.”
“Let’s take this elsewhere” he huffed breaking the kiss for just an instance.
And so, the lockdown with you went from punishment to blessing. Now the two of you couldn’t get your hands off each other. One thing he had got right from the first meeting is that you gave him that aura of someone who was extremely affectionate. But he never imagined how good it felt to be on the receiving end of those affections. And you were a forced to be reckoned with, but you loved with the same ferocity you fought, and Loki couldn’t love it more.
He had had lovers in the past, but it always felt transactional, like it was to get something from him, or he let his own insecurities sabotage his relationships. But this was… fun… easy. He no longer had any nobility titles on earth, and you refused to acknowledge him as a god in the literal sense. You treated him like an equal, you wanted nothing from him. You were purely and simply  into him… and that made him madly into you.
But it all changed the second the rest started coming back from their lives on the outside world and return to the compound. Loki couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about being lovey dovey in public, much less with someone he had sworn to despise. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from the others. But he couldn’t help being captivated by your beauty, your kindness, your sense of humor, that body of yours… Damn, he was doomed. And you didn’t seem to think much different because you also held back from your affections as soon as there was someone else around.
Wanda and Vision were the first one to return, but those two were in a forever state of honeymoon and barely noticed the world around each other when they were together. But not long after, the compound was full of everyone.
Loki would go insane on days like that because he couldn’t shower with you with his devoted affections. It was like a nasty itch he couldn’t quite scratch.
But it was noticeable that something had changed between the two of you, given you went from nearly killing each other on every interaction to agreeing on nearly everything. And Loki had stopped avoiding the kitchen where everyone gathered around you while you baked. Loki gained a pound or two since the two of you started dating since you always made apple pie especially for him and now, he never missed a single baked treat you made.
It even made him interacted a lot more with everyone else, which at first he considered a sacrifice, but after growing accustomed to the noise, he came to enjoy the company. It reminded him of those few days where his parents, Thor and himself would spend time just relaxing together. And he was sure that was exactly what Thor thought too.
“So, you swear it on your life?” Tony asked.
“Yes Stark, I swear” Loki scoffed with a tiny smile. “Just because I was D. B. Cooper doesn’t mean I caused every little historical mystery. I don’t know who Jack the Ripper was. What he did was vile and disgusting, Thor and I only indulged on confusing humanity, not tormenting you all.”
“Swear it on the name of the love of your life” Clint said holding his beer.
“What?!” Loki said, tensing up, fearing the two of you had been caught.
“I don’t know, you don’t have a wife…” the archer shrugged. “Just swear.”
“I swear it, Barton” Loki said, feeling a bit relieved, but he eyed you and he noticed you had pursed your lips, unsuccessfully fighting a smile and he felt a fuzzy warmth running around in his chest. “But… we may or may not have something to do a certain lost tomb of an ancient queen…”
“NO!” Tony gasped with an incredulous but fascinated smile.
Thor rubbed the back of his neck with an apologetical smile. “Sorry about that…” he apologized and his crewmates started bombarding him with questions. He was so lost in the conversation he failed to hear you calling for him until you raised your voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Loki, cupcake?”
“Yes?” he responded in automatic.
He immediately realized his mistake when he saw the tray of cupcakes in your hand. You were not calling sweet petnames. You were offering him a treat. Everyone was looking at him weirdly.
“Are you asking me or telling me?” you saved the situation quickly.
“I do… want a cupcake” he clarified, clearing his throat to not sound nervous.
“Extra cake frosting for frost not so giant?” you smiled teasingly.
“Sure.”
And there had been a few more slips here and there. From how much time you two spent together lately, how you always sat together to sneak little caresses under the table to reaffirm your mutual love even if in secret. Or even developing an acute hearing to kiss as passionately as you could when no one was around which led to a few close calls. Or a few night he’d sneak into your room (and vice versa) to spend the night.
And it slowly became more noticeable to the one person who knew him best, or well, at least for the longest time.
Loki had been invited to see a racecar event on the TV with Thor, Romanoff, Stark, Barton, Banner, Rogers and the rest of the guys. You had declined the invitation, more interested in trying a new recipe and unfortunately for Loki you two had decided that it’d be better for keeping face if Loki joined the others and socialized with the group instead of going to watch you bake. And just like that, Loki was stuck watching a bunch of cars running in circles with a now nearly empty glass of Asgardian ale on his hand.
“So… you and our little pastry cook, hm?” Bucky asked, drinking his own glass, that had just a bit of Asgardian ale to make up for the super-soldier resistance to alcohol, making him slightly tipsy. “Happy for you.”
“What?” Loki asked, his body stiffening.
“It’s clear you feel a little something-something” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. “Have you done anything about it yet?”
“You bet” Natasha chuckled. “Why do you think they argue way less lately? Missions hadn’t been this easy in so long!”
Loki felt his cheeks warm, but he simply hid behind his glass under the excuse to drink more.
“Congratulations, brother!” Thor grinned from ear to ear.
“You’re all straight up delusional!” Loki blushed profoundly.
Everyone laughed loudly at Loki’s reaction, very evidently not believing a single word. He was so embarrassed, and he couldn’t help the hot blush on his face that went all the way to his ears.
“C’mon… tell us the truth!” Tony elbowed his ribs, making Loki jolt, which was noticed by the inventor. “What was that?”
Thor spoke before Loki could come up with an excuse.
“Ah, my brother is awfully ticklish!” Thor smiled brightly. “He used to love getting tickled when we were little.”
“THOR!” Loki protested with his face red like a tomato. “N-No, I’m— I was a child back then!”
Everyone smiled at him in a way that made even the god of mischief want to run for his life. But Thor knew him well, and before he could escape, and he had put him in an arm master lock, and Loki started squirming to break free, but of course, in a one of one, Loki would never beat Thor in terms of physical strength. Everyone exchanged looks and Loki knew exactly what they were thinking.
“Ohoho! I like how you think, Sparky.” Tony chuckled letting his drink to the side, also grabbing Loki’s drink not to waste it.
“That brings back memories, eh Bucky?” Steve chuckled, exchanging an affectionate smile with his best friend.
“And if my memory works correctly, it was a good way to make you talk” Bucky agreed.
“Let’s see if it works for Loki TOO” Steve said and left his beer.
Everyone had forgotten the race on the TV and their drinks to focus on the currently helpless Loki.
“All of you! If you even dare to lay a single finger on me, I swear I will— ACK!” Loki was cut off my a light poke on the side by Natasha. His face burned. “DON’T!”
Everyone was giggling at the reaction from the young god. Loki could only squirm and tug against his older brother’s grip.
And with that, everyone jumped on their former enemy. Poking and prodding the God of Mischief’s torso. Loki tensed up and held his breath eventually letting out a few laughs, still doing his best to refrain his laughter. He wanted to hold back, but every nerve that was being tormented begged him to laugh.
“This could easily end if you admit you are dating—” Tony teased.
“I’M NOHOHOT!” Loki yelped, cursing himself for the laughs that escaped past his lips.
A part of him wanted to just get over it and admit how helplessly in love he was with you, he could easily start demonstrating the world how much he loved you. But he knew neither he or you was ready to deal with the teasing it’d unleash, and even if you were ready, he wanted to do it together, not because it was tortured out of him.
“Man, he’s more ticklish than my kids” Clint laughed as he squeezed Loki’s left ribs.
“Oh, I was just going to say that” Tony laughed, but I squeezing Loki’s lower stomach. “He’s a lot feistier though, Morgan would already be in a giggle fit if I tickled here, below her belly button.”
“Yeah, but your kids don’t have an ego to protect” Natasha laughed as she wiggled her fingers along Loki’s right armpit.
Banner was a lot nicer in the sense that he wasn’t teasing him, but the constant squeezes above his kneecap had Loki twitching.
“I think he’s gonna explode” Steve chuckled as he poked and scribbled along Loki’s side. “This could all be over if you just admit you are seeing a certain someone we all know you are dating.”
“WE AHAHAHAHA- WE AREN’T!” Loki laughed. “I SWEAR! LET ME GO YOU BUNCH OF- NOHOHOHOHO! NOT THERE! NOHOHOHOHO! STOP!”
Now Loki’s face was a dark shade of red and he was laughing his head off. It made everyone freeze a little. He was squirming as if he was being exorcised.
“Woah! He’s losing it!” Steve jumped. “Who did that?”
“That would be me” Thor smiled innocently.
Everyone moved his hands to reveal Thor contorting his arms in a rather uncomfortable manner although very effective position where he kept Loki’s arms raised and stuck in a Y as he was now drilling his fingers against the spot little crevice at the bottom of each armpit, and right where the armpit met the upper ribs. And Loki was going crazy.
And rather than showing him any sort of mercy everyone else resumed their tickle attacks.
“Dammit Thor, you mean defeating your little brother could have been this easy?” Clint laughed. “We could’ve spared us all of his New York invasion! We could’ve just tickled Loki until him pissed himself!”
Gods no, if at this point they were now friends —or at least, had a cordial relationship— and they were about to tickle him to death he might have actually died if they pulled a stunt like this when they were, in fact, trying to kill him. Tears of laughter were already streaming down his face like a river and his stomach ached from the overexertion.
But Loki still refused to betray your trust. There was only one other option left for him: swallow his pride.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! OH GODS PLEASE, I CAN’T HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT! I YIELD! PLEASE! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Oh, the things he did for love. They wouldn’t let him forget it, but he felt his stomach was gonna explode if he wasn’t allowed to catch his breath.
“Oh, begging? Okay, I think he might be serious” Steve laughed.
“I AM! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHA! THOR PLEASE!” Loki begged, and uttered the words he hated telling Thor the most. But the words that always made him stop: “YOU WIN, BROTHER! STOP!”
Now Thor knew Loki was serious, and he let go of his arms, thankfully everyone else followed, sparing the God of Mischief from the horrid of fate of die laughing. Loki immediately curled up in a ball, he coughing and panting, desperately trying to catch his breath.
Everyone was giggling around him, all completely unaware that you had been around the corner, and you had watched the whole thing.
Days later, you two had the house for yourselves and decided to put a movie Loki would like and sat on the couch to cuddle during the evening, enjoying each other’s warmth. He admitted that just staying home in baggy clothes and have your arms around each other for hours and hours. And the green sweatshirt you got him was extremely comfortable.
Although as usual, the movie was quickly ignored in favor of kissing each other. You were the sweetest kisser he had the blessing to encounter, you kissed him and caressed him with a love he had never met, you always either cupped his face, played with his hair or caressed his body, but you always sent him into a sensorial state of bliss.
You were such a lovely thing.
“Mmm, you choose such good movies” Loki joked and chuckled with his lips against yours. “So engaging…”
“Oh, haha— funny…” you giggled and rolled your eyes.
He looked at you with a self-satisfied grin as you looked annoyed.
“Oh, c’mon darling, I love you…” he smiled.
“You swear, baby?” you said in a tone that made Loki tilt his head, knowing you were trying to say something.
“What do you mean, love?” he asked.
You smiled and placed your hand on his sides, making him jolt.
“A-Ah… Darling… W-What are you doing?” he asked with a nervous smile.
“I may have learned something about my lovely prince the other day…” you said flirtatiously. “Something fun~”
“Oh, i-is that so?” he smiled nervously, already having a good idea of what was this discovery of yours. “I-I don’t like the sound of that…”
“Oh, c’mon, honey… please!” you wrapped your arms around him in a happy hug. “Please let me tickle you… Everyone got to tickle you. I want my turn!”
Oh, so he was right. He felt a sense of dread and mild panic. He still hadn’t mentally recover from the group attack from the other day…
“Your turn?!” Loki gasped out, and panicked at the sight of your determination to tickle him. “N-No… Darling… Please no, honey… Please, I’m awfully ticklish… I—”
You smile widened from ear to ear from excitement. Loki realized that he was burying his own grave, as the more he argued, the more you wanted to tickle him. He sighed.
“Is there something I could do to convince you to not tickle me?” he said with a pleading expression.
“Not at all” you smiled in that way that brought gods —specifically, this god— to his knees.
He accepted defeat like a gentleman.
“Alright…” he smiled and rested his hands behind his neck, letting himself vulnerable for you. “But when I say stop, you stop. Deal? I mean it when I say I’m very ticklish, and you could get hurt, I can’t control my magic when I get overwhelmed.”
“Ooh, a safe-word already? So naughty” you giggled, making his cheeks flush and groan.
“Just get it over with…” he sighed, finding a weird tingle on his belly. A bit of excitement, perhaps.
You nodded and sneaked your fingers with ease under his hoodie, and it was baggy enough to provide no hinderance to your fingers. Wearing a tank top wasn’t the greatest idea in retrospect. He let out a few giggles already.
“Oh norns…” he chuckled and sucked in a gust of air to keep his composure when you gently brushed along his sides.
Despite he being completely free to move, and you were only one person… he was struggling not to burst out laughing more than when he was teamed up against. Perhaps it was the clothing, or the fact that you made him way more nervous than anyone else in the world. But he was already letting out a few giggles.
“Ehehehehe… D-Darling… Please!”
You were utterly delighted. Loki was the cutest thing in your eyes, and being able to make him giggle like that was a treasure.
“Ohohoho gods! Love please, gohoho eheheheasy on mehehehe!” he laughed. “I cahahan’t stand it!”
You smiled in adoration and ran your fingers along his lower belly, gently gracing along his waistline and he placed a hand over his mouth and looked away to get away from you, too flustered to look you in the eye. He was the strong and mighty God of Mischief… How could you render him so helpless?
“Hahahaha! Pffft! Ack—!”
Oh, but you cruel thing, you quickly took advantage of his raised arm to tickle his armpit making both arms shot down to his sides in a louder giggle fit. He still was afraid to try fighting back, but his body started responding on it’s own and his hands shot to your wrists. But he quickly got nervous. He had severely underestimated how badly he weakened when he was tickled and your superhuman strength. Curse you, mutants.
“Nohohoho! Oh, nohohohoho! Stohohohop that! Lohohohohove!” he laughed as tears formed on the corners of his eyes.
All he could do was throw his head back and laugh against the couch as you laid on stop of him tickling him out of his mind.
Surprisingly he didn’t mind it too much. He found himself liking the attention.
“Hehehehe! Dahaharling! P-Plehehehehease! Please! No mohohohohore! Love, mehehercy!” he laughed weakly.
You giggled and stopped tickling him.
“Are you okay, pretty boy?” you giggled and leaned to kiss the tip of his nose, which made him smile.
“Hehehe… heh… Oh, love, you’re vicious… hahaha…” he chuckled. “That was the worst torture I’ve endured in all of my life… haha…”
“C’mon, you loved it” you smiled and kissed him.
It felt lovely the way Loki smiled into the kiss, even delighting you with a nice buzzing with the way he laughed into your lips. He simply irradiated happiness, and it was contagious.
“Whahat’s so funny?” you asked with a giggle.
“Nothing, nothing…” he smiled brightly and let out a loud contented sigh. “This is just perfection… I love you.”
“Aww…!” you cooed and hugged him tight. “I love you too, you ticklish cutie pie!”
Loki’s face turned red and groaned, and cringing at the overly sweet pet name. And you knew it and openly did it to get him flustered, even adding a tooth rotting coo to your tone that got him super embarrassed.
“I-I’m not a…!” he smiled, a bit flustered.
“Yes, you are!” you giggled and started tickling him again.
“AHH! Hahahahaha! Let me go! Hahaha!” he laughed as he tried to push your hands away without risking to hurt you if he grabbed your hands. He even kicked against the armrest where his feet had been resting. He was “I cahahahan’t- I surrender! Hahahaha!”
“Hehehehe!” you giggle. “You’re a sweetheart…”
“Yeah, I… yeah, I alright, you win…” he chuckled and nuzzled your nose in the sweetest Eskimo kiss. “You’re gorgeous.”
You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him in a nice hug with your chest pressed against his as he held you and let out a big yawn.
“Sleepy?” you smiled softly and kissed his cheek and he looked at you with droopy eyes.
“It’s your fault… you tickle me too much,” he yawned again. “…it’s only natural I get sleepy after you tickle me halfway to insanity.”
“You love it..” you smiled and snuggled and fell asleep within seconds.
Loki smiled as his hand stopped glowing from the sleeping spell and saw your relaxed form as you rested against his chest. He yawned, and relaxed more now that you’d stay and nap with him.
“I do love it…” he smiled and kissed the top of your head he smiled and saw the little grin on your face as you slept with me. He sighed and soon drifted off to sleep in a nice and peaceful slumber as he left his hands on the small of your back.
He slept for so many hours, so peaceful and content. He was in such a deep sleep that he didn’t notice when a few set of footsteps walking to the couch where you two slept.
“See? I told you they were dating” Steve whispered.
“I never said I disagreed!” Thor yell-whispered. “I know my brother enough to know when he’s infatuated.”
“Can you two shut up?!” Clint shushed them both, and as he pulled out his phone to take pictures. “This is gonna be excellent blackmail!”
“You gotta send them to me!” Tony demanded.
“C’mon guys…” Natasha reasoned with an endeared smile. “It’s kinda cute, they look so happy together. Look at those smiles…”
All the guys looked at Natasha in disbelief, even Banner looked shocked.
“Do you want the photos or not?” Clint asked.
“Oh no, of course I do…” she smiled. “Send it to me.”
Now the backlash of hiding your relationship would be a truly aggravating situation.
| MASTERPOST |
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lexluvswriting · 1 day
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[18+ CONTENT AHEAD, V SUGGESTIVE CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
forgive me, Father for I have sinned.
and slayed.
sooo i was listening to 'Too Sweet' and i came across some videos on the forbidden site [X - elmo musky's domain] and UHm now we have this LMFAO.
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should i post this tn yes or no 🙈
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flightlessangelwings · 5 months
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Being inclusive with your reader insert fic is a kindness. It tells people of color (poc) that you are considering someone who does not look like you in your fic. It shows love and dedication to our craft. It tells poc that they belong here too and they can see themselves in your story.
Poc aren’t look for activism in fic, we know fandom isn’t that serious, but we should be able to have that same level of escapism when we turn to fic and fandom. We belong here too. This space is for everyone, not just one group of people.
Just to give a few examples of how simple it can be: say “skin warmed” instead of blushed, say “cradled your head” instead of running fingers through hair, say “angles yourself to kiss” instead of standing on tiptoes, use italics to indicate Spanish to take out a throwaway line of “you didn’t understand Spanish” things like that. Small changes that do not impact the fic at all but make a world of difference in inclusivity!
And for anything you can’t/don’t want to change, simply add warning in the beginning. Things like hair descriptors, anything reader might wear, some backstory for reader (especially involving family or where the story is set), readers job, things like that. A lot of times just having that heads up before the fic makes a world of difference!
And one example of kindness we as writers always worked to change: until recently (just a couple years ago) it wasn’t common to label the gender of the reader. But those who aren’t female asked writers to label it so they know which to read and which to avoid, and now it’s common to label the gender/pronouns of the reader. So it is possible! It just takes effort! And I’m a writer myself so I know it can be done!
We can pretend to be a bartender or a bounty hunter or an actress or anything else. But we shouldn’t have to imagine we’re a white one.
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celluifleur · 4 months
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fictional men: *murders millions and is a literal war criminal"
tumblr girls: "i can fix him<3"
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welovelouisandbucky · 3 months
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Me: *gets periods* *sighs*
Also me: *searches x reader period fics on Tumblr/ao3*
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cleo-fox · 8 months
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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.
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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.
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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Denial but with a muzzle on so he goes crazy because he wants to taste you, lick you, kiss you, suck everywhere he can. You can see he's losing his mind with the desire, drooling from it, cheeks flushed, hips bucking, cock pulsing and leaking because he's came so many times already but hasn't been able to get a single kiss yet.
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Kiba, InuYasha, Astarion, Zhongli, Itto, Wriotheslay, Blade, Dan Heng, Miguel, Loki + your faves
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