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rainyapricotcreatorparty · 3 months

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Pain Relief

GIF not mine

Loki x Reader

Warnings: Wrong grammar, pure smut, Minors DNI, oral f receiving, slight praise kink, fingering

Summary: You are on your period and Loki finds a way to relieve you from your pain.

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Cramps you hated it, it was like someone was stabbing you multiple times without mercy. Plus the mood swings that you couldn't control was frustrating. You lay in bed in a fatal position, your knees touching your chest, your arms around your legs pulling them close. You wanted anything to take the pain away. It was hard to move and your lower back was killing you, your breasts felt swollen. You just wanted to dig a hole and die in it. You wanted to take a medicine but you were afraid if you ate something your stomach would turn against you and throw everything out as soon as you put something in your mouth.

A groan leaves your mouth you were in so much pain. You turn around on the bed trying to find a good position to stay in to make it less painful but alas the stabbing pain was still there eating away at your lower stomach.

You hear the door opening. "Are you alright darling?" Said a deep british voice that sends shivers down your spine. you turn your head in the direction of the voice, there he stood Loki god of mischief your lover. He stood tall with his soft black hair sleeked back it. He was a sight for sore eyes that's for sure. You loved admiring his features from his gorgeous greenish blue eyes, to his high cheek bones, to his rosy lips.

"No, the cramps are killing me.." your voice barely audible. worry shines through his eyes as he walks up to the end of the bed and climbs next to you, He picks you up to sit in his lap, he wraps his arms around you to cuddle. "What can I do for you to feel better love?" he says softly in your ears. "I just need to my pain medicine but I can't take it on an empty stomach." You whimper as an another stab of pain hits you. "Would you like some tea? A hot drink might help with the pain." He says and you just nod your head. He placed you on the bed softly and kisses your forehead before he heads out.

Worry seeps through his veins as he makes your cup of tea. He didn't know what to do in this situation. He put the water in kettle while he waited he searched on how to help with period pain on the phone he was still new to all the technology and he hated how he could't use it, but he tries to remember what you taught him about searching on the 'internet' after searching how to soothe period cramps.

Get a message.

Heating pads.

Hot drinks.

he kept scrolling until a sentence stopped mid swiping.

Reach an Orgasm.

He raised an eyebrow at that, orgasms can help with cramps?

The kettle whistled breaking out of his trance, he added the tea bag and added the hot water. He grabbed the cup and walked back to your room.

He gently opened the door to your bedroom poking his head inside, you were still lying in that same fatal position. He walked up to the bed and gently placed the cup down on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Love, I made you tea." He whispered as softly stroked your arm. You groaned and moved to sit up to drink. He sits down beside you and grabs the cup and hands it you. You slowly took sip of the hot liquid. He puts his arm around you, as you put your head to his neck. After drinking he grabs the empty cup from your hands and places it down. He picks you up and places you between his legs as you rest your back to his front. He messaged your abdomen remembering the instructions he read.

As he continued to message you, a groan leaves your mouth in pain and relief, his hands worked magic at your lower stomach. His hands started to go up your upper stomach and down to your thighs. "I read that orgasms helps with the pain" Your eyes widened at that, blood rushed to your cheeks. "umm, Yes, that is true but you don't want to, there is blo-" He shushed with his finger to your lips. "You think I care about a little blood? If it takes the pain away I will gladly do it. Besides I love the noise that comes out of your pretty lips." He says. Heat rushed between your legs at his words.

His hands roams down your stomach feeling your body until it came over your covered center. Rubbing over the fabric of your pants. He adds pressure and continues rubbing, you move your hips grinding to his hand. Moans left your lips at the sensation. Pain still ate at your lower stomach but mixed with pleasure it was a heavenly feeling to you. His hand slid under your pants and panties straight to your core. Your face flushed goosebump all over your skin it was such a beautiful feeling. His fingers found your slit your sweet juices covered his fingers trailing down his hands you were so aroused. Moans left your lips as he pushed a finger inside of you his fingers were long and had the perfect about of thickness as he stretched your pussy out.

“You are so wet darling” he said with his deep voice in your ear as he sucked at your earlobe, shivers ran down your back at the action. Your wetness and blood covered his fingers he kept thrusting his finger inside of you. Pleasure builds up in your lower stomach, his fingers kept hitting your g-spot perfectly, his thumbs finds the pearl on your clit. Moans leaves your lips. Your legs started to shake at the sensations you tried to close your legs, but Loki's hand came down and held them in place and kept thrusting. Loki can feel how you tighten around his fingers, you were close.

"You are not allowed to cum until I tell you." He whispered in your ear, you whined at his words you were so close to the feeling of bliss, his fingers keeping a constant pace bringing you over the edge. After what seemed like forever in this hard teasing he finally whispered. "Come for me love." On command your orgasm came crashing on you. Your back arching forward shaking uncontrollably. Loki with his fingers still inside of you continued to thrust his fingers inside you while you rode your orgasm.

You sigh in relief and pure bliss, your body relaxes against Loki. Loki's fingers coming to a stop. Your cheeks now a pretty red from the event that just happened. Loki pulls out of you, his fingers stained with red and your juices and brings it to his lips. your eyes widened at the action.

"Loki, what are you doing?" you try to catch his hand but his fingers were already at his lips as he sucked on them. Embarrassment fills your chest.

"There is nothing for you to be embarrassed about love, You taste delightful" He smirks at the red in your cheeks. Suddenly he starts to pull your pants and panties off.

"You don't actually think we are done now are we? I know you can give me one more my love." He discards your pants to the floor. He gets up from under you and crawl to.

"What? no-" He grabs your knees and pulls to him. He pushes your legs apart as he started to kiss your inner thighs. "I want to take your pain away and listen to those sweet noises you make my love" You shiver when his soft lips reach your center. You look down at instantly make eye contact with him his intense greenish blue eyes.

You jolt when his tongue played the pearl of nerves at your center, soft moans left your lips at the sensation, you were still a little sensitive after your last orgasm. His fingers moved up down slowly at you opening collecting your wetness on his fingers. He pushed his middle finger inside at a painfully slow pace. Your mouth falls open as you throw your head back. With his finger he makes a come motion hitting your g-spot perfectly, building up your orgasm. He teases you with his fingers suddenly moving fast and as heels you clench around his finger he slows down. You whimper in agony. "Look at you whimpering such sweet sounds you make. Look at how you clench on my finger love" He pushes in another finger inside you filling you up. The sounds leaving your mouth get louder with each passing minute. Soon he pushes a third finger completely stretching you out. Your eyes widen he stretches you out beautifully. Your hands come down and pulls at his tall black silky hair. He groans into you as you pull his hair. The mixture of his fingers and tongue which was still working on your pearl of nerves.

"Loki, please" you moan out. "Tell me what you need love" He says. "I want to come please." you say. "As you wish love" He continues his hitting your g-spot each time with a perfect pace. Finally your orgasm came crushing down on you, moans leaves your lips as you rise your orgasm. your body becomes mush as you relax into the mattress. Loki covers you with a blanket and pulls you to his chest.

"How are you feeling now love?" You smile at him "much better, so much better" He kisses your lip softly while cuddling with. "You did so well for me love, rest now I will clean up." he kisses your forehead and you close your eyes.

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loopsisloops · 6 months

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The Green Light

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 302

A thought popped into my head…not quite sure where it came from but let’s just call it a horny blurb for now lol

Loki does not ask for permission.

He waits for it.

His body language exudes patience but his eyes betray him. Nothing but hunger in them as they trail up and down your legs. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered with excitement.

You looked down at the beautiful god on his knees with nothing but love and adoration.

He was your everything and you knew he felt the same way about you.

You uncrossed your legs and leaned forward, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating. His eyes fluttered shut, a small groan escaped his lips as you ran a hand through his dark curls.

After tucking a few loose curls behind his ear you brought your hand down to his jaw, slowly running the pad of your thumb over his soft lips. A smile formed on your own as you tilted his head back. Imprints of your red lips on his soft skin scattered down his neck. Arousal pooled between your legs. You were proud of your work yet you weren’t even close to being done.

You leaned back on the bed resting on your elbows. You were wearing nothing but the black lingerie set he had so eagerly picked out for you just last week. You knew you were playing with fire when it came to what you were about to do next but it was worth the risk. With the tip of your heel you lightly pressed down on his bulge.

The groan that escaped his lips was heavenly.

His hands formed into fists but remained in front of him, the sleeves of his white button down shirt rolled up to his elbows exposing those gorgeous forearms.

He tilted his head up, lovely ocean green eyes meeting yours.

You were done for.

With one look you gave him the green light.

#no beta we die like Phil Coulson #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #mcu loki #mcu #loki smut #18+

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lostalioth · 7 months

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→ hiii my loves here i go again with an ambitious kinktober prompt list!!!! it might end badly as in i dont finish it as i have the past 2 kinktobers i’ve tried to participate in. which is why i only have 18 days of prompts planned out from the 1st to halloween ill be posting a prompt fic almost every other day so sunday, tuesday, thursday and saturday!! i definitely wouldn’t be able to do a full 31 days when i can barely finish the prompts i laid out the past two years soooo

→ i don’t do taglists as that is too much for me to keep up with however you can follow my library account — @aliothslibrary where i reblog my new fics right after ive posted and thats all i reblog on there so you could turn on notifications for that account if you’d like to be notified when each days fics go out!! here is my masterlist as well :)

→ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! THIS IS A 18+ ACCOUNT / BLOG !! AND THESE ARE 18+ FICS THEY ALL INCLUDE SMUT.

day one — size kink + body worship w/ stucky

day two — mutual masturbation + gagging w/ eddie munson

day three — knife play + thorat training w/ loki laufeyson

day four — bike sex + oral w/ biker!bucky barnes

day five — shower sex + edging w/ steve harrington

day six — blood kink + squirting w/ miguel o’hara

day seven — face sitting + love marks w/ marc sceptor

day eight — free use + sir kink w/ steve rogers

day nine — bondage + creampie w/ tasm!peter parker

day ten — lap dance + fingering w/ bucky barnes

day eleven — cock worship + praise kink w/ steve harrington

day twelve — high sex + corruption kink w/ eddie munson

day thirteen — against a wall + semi-public sex w/ steven grant

day fourteen — choking + nipple play w/ steve rogers

day fifteen — overstimulation + begging w/ miguel o’hara

day sixteen — orgasm denial + dacryphilia w/ loki laufeyson

day seventeen — phone sex + dirty talk w/ tasm!peter parker

day eighteen— doubled penetration + drunk sex w/ steddie

→ hope you enjoy my babes! please send me feedback don’t be shy to comment on the fics and tell me what you think please i love seeing your reactions to my fics guys!!!! thank youuu for reading if you do and if you don’t welll your lose ;)

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yunggoblin · 7 months

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Can I? - Loki Laufeyson (18+)

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Summary: Loki has been hiding his Frost Giant form but on an accidental slip during a hot occasion you can't help but to ask him to 'suck it'.

Warnings: +18, Mature, Smut, Oral, Frost Giant Smut, Dirty Talk, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 1,918

It was a cozy Friday evening, everything in the world was perfect, no evil villains to fight, no wars to get involved with other countries and no civilians getting hurt during it all. The soft rain pitter pattered against the shingles on the room, the gentle blow of the wind pushed the rain droplets against your apartment window making soft thumping sounds when the fat raindrops hit.

You sat on the large couch, sprawled out flipping through channels, there was nothing catching your attention only for a mere few seconds then you flipped the channel. Bored with the television you turned down the volume, your attention was now on something else, no, someone else.

Your boyfriend was in his little corner of the living room, sitting in a comfortable single chair with a book in his right hand. His beautiful baby blue eyes skimmed across the page of the book only to flip it with his other hand and continued on reading. His page turner hand (left hand) went to his jaw, his slender fingers pressing against jaw as his tongue slowly darted across his lower lip as if he was focusing on the book even more, to be one with the book, even thought you’ve seen him read that book front to back, cover to cover over a thousand times. What more does he need to understand with that book?

That didn’t stop you from admiring him. Your eyes drifted downwards to his muscular arms, even with the light book in his hands his biceps flexed beneath the cotton shirt. Skimming down his slender body, he sat man spreading in his chair, his legs open for you to enjoy the bulge nestled in between his legs, you outlined the curve of his cock with your eyes, drinking in his posture. The tight slacks you got him one Christmas were your favorite. Loki complained a bit about how they were a little too tight in the crotch area but you insisted that they would stretch over time. They did no and stayed tight no matter how many times he wore them and how many times they’ve been through the wash.

You clenched your thighs as your mind started to become clouded with lust. Not containing yourself anylong you climbed down off the couch and was on all fours on the floor and started to crawl towards Loki. Wedging yourself in between his legs, Loki pulled the book off to the side and smiled down at you. “Hello, darling.” He hummed. “What can I do for you, my love?” His voice was soft as he spoke to you, noticing that glint in your eyes. He knew that look, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“Well, since we basically have the day off and it’s a Friday I was thinking of a better way to kick start our weekend. Something a bit hotter than reading that book of yours a thousandth time.” You licked your lips, only to bite your bottom lip hiding your grin.

“Oh yeah?” Loki cocked his head to the side slightly, “and what would that be?”

You pouted looking up at him. “Maybe something like this?” You stood up and straddled Loki in his reading chair, only leg over the other on his lap. “Maybe something like kissing.” Your lips traced over his neck, up his jaw line and to his ear lobe where you nibbled at it.

“Hmm, a little light kissing does sound hotter than reading this book.” Loki relaxed into the chair a bit more. “Anything else?” He placed his hands on your ass.

“Maybe get a little friction going.” You breathed against his ear, slowly grinding yourself against his lap. A soft gasp escaped your lips as your clothed clit grinded against his slack, the roughness giving off that perfect satisfaction.

“Y- Yeah? Friction is always good.” Loki hummed, his hands kneading your ass, pulling you closer as you were practically humping him now. “Shit.” Loki whispered as you grind yourself harder onto him, his cock waking up and blood rushing south as he grew larger.

Your sloppy kisses dragged out away from his ear lobe, down his neck and back up to his jaw line. “Maybe even slip a little of your tip inside me.” You innocently said.

“Fuck, by the gods I’d love that. Fuck my tip in that tight little hole of yours.” Loki moaned as your lips were on his in seconds, you both moaning against each other's mouths. Loki’s right hand went to the back of your head, kissing you harder as his left hand came down on your ass, spanking you.

Your hips grind harder against his pants, humping him at a pace you both thought was pleasant. You hissed softly as Loki grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, his lips soon attacking your throat, his teeth sinking down into your neck making you cry loudly. His teeth seemed to be a bit sharper than usual but you paid little knowledge to it. Your eyes closed, head tilted back as Loki kept rutting against you each time you grind down on him. Loki pulled away from your neck, moaning. “Fuck, I need you, now. I need to be inside you, Y/N.”

As you opened your eyes to take off your shirt you met something you’ve never seen before but only heard stories of. You gasped loudly, almost backing away from Loki but froze in his lap. Loki’s crystal blue eyes were now ruby red and his pale skin was now a dark blue with markings around his body and somehow his body was even slightly larger than before, you might even dare say bigger than Thor.

“L- Loki.” You swallowed. “You’re eyes.” You breathed out, they were beautiful as he stared at you in confusion only to raise his hand to see this true form.

“I- I need you to leave- please, Y/N go.” Loki begged, choking up as tears started to welt in his eyes. “I can’t have you see me like this, please. I’ve never wanted you to see me like this.” Loki turned his face so you couldn’t see him or the tears streaming down his cheeks.

You sat on his lap, not moving while he still hasn’t looked at you, not even from the corner of his eye. You settled yourself against him, accidentally grinding your hips against him until you froze again.

His cock. His cock felt much thicker than before, girthier and heavier. You’ve only heard stories about Loki’s true form from his adopted brother, Thor and here you were, sitting on the God of Mischiefs lap while he was in his full Frost Giant form. This was most likely ever going to be your only chance to ever see him like this again. “C- Can I…” You paused, your mouth watering so much from the saliva you were collecting. You were getting yourself too excited for this question.

“Y- Yes, yes you can leave.” Loki finished the sentence he thought you were going to say.

“Can I suck it?” You asked quietly as Loki spoke.

Loki snapped his head towards you, his bright bloody red eyes looking at you. “What did you say?” He breathed out.

“Your cock.” You pussy fluttered. “Can I suck your cock?” You asked again.

“You’re not disgusted by this… this monstrous form I’m in?” Loki asked, his long black hair flowing over his shoulder.

“What? No, I’ve been dreaming of seeing you like this, I’ve only heard stories about you in this form.” You licked your bottom lip and smiled, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his blue ear. “And, besides, between you and me I think this form of you is pretty fucking hot.”

Loki exhaled through his nostrils, his cock twitched as you flirted with him. “You truly want to suck it?”

“More than anything.”

“Even if you might choke while taking it all, I’m pretty big.” Loki pushed his hips upwards, his very long length grazed against your aching pussy.

A soft whine left your throat. “I know, I can tell.” You hummed at his impressive new size.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Loki leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs even more for you to take the invite.

You smiled largely at him as you climbed off his lap and quickly undid his pants, dragging them down his muscular blue thighs. You swallowed the saliva collecting in your mouth at the sight of him. His large cock had a few extra veins on it along with the same markings on his forearms, you exhaled a breath, the hotness hitting his cock making it twitch. Pre-come was already dripping from the top of it and down the side of his dick.

“I’m waiting.” He said as he stared down at you.

“Yes my king.” You leaned forward, wasting no time to wrap your lips around the thick tip of his cock and slowly going downwards, letting his cock enter your throat you moaned around him.

“Hmm, fuck.” Loki sighed, placing his hand on the back of your head. “Fuck, Y/N. I want to see you choke on me.” Loki growled as he pulled your hair back and held it in a ponytail with one hand. “I want to see your face dripping with my come.” Loki pumped his hips upwards making his cock forcefully go down your throat a bit farther.

You exhaled a breath through your nose, eyes shut as you moaned around him as he started to fuck your face. Hollowing your cheeks, you lapped your tongue around his cock, suckling him down more each time he pushed his dick down your throat. “Fuck- yes good girl, good Y/N. You’re so good at pleasing your king.”

Your stomach fluttered and your pussy clenched around nothing, betting to be filled by him. You needed to have him inside of you and you weren’t leaving until he was. “Fuck, Y/N.” Loki’s grip on your hair tightened as his cock swelled in your mouth, you knew he was close to blowing his load. You gagged around his cock as he was speeding up his pace, fucking your mouth roughly now. Pre-come and saliva collected at the corner of your mouth, tears spilled down your cheeks as you were now begging for air.

“Close- fuck, that’s it- right there, right fuckin’ there!” Loki roared with one last pump. Loki's come exploded inside of your mouth making you moan and forcing yourself to swallow his come, not missing any of his seeds. Once Loki knew you had taken all of him he slowly lifted you up from his now soft cock, which was still an impressive size.

“Are you okay?” Loki asked in his soft voice once more.

“I’m more than okay.” You laughed, sniffing slightly as you wiped your tears away. “Better than okay.” You kissed the tip of his cock which had it twitching back to life once more.

“Easy love, unless you want another round, you best stop there.”

“I do, I want this fat cock in me.”

Loki stood up, his lower half still naked, his cock now fully erect as he picked you up. “Bedroom, now.”

As Loki pulled you into the bedroom to pump his second load in you, you couldn’t help but to think of how it was indeed a perfect cozy Friday evening for a perfect fuck by your Frost Giant boyfriend.

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loana123 · 2 months

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Make friend with me SMS me

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babyjackdaniels · 5 months

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#fox writes imagines #18+ imagine #18+#marvel #loki of asgard #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x reader #loki odinson #marvel imagine #loki x reader imagine #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine

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braveclementine · 7 days

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October 22: Sex Pollen (Loki Laufeyson)❤️

Warnings: could be seen as non-con, royalty kink, induced sex

Copyright: I do not own Loki (please kidnap me Loki) or any other Marvel/MCU characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"What exactly is it?" You asked Bruce as he showed you a new, interesting specimen that had been found in space and brought back to Earth.

It was a beautiful flower of sorts, bright pink with white teardrops on the petals. The stem was green and a little purple where the stem curled up to the petals.

"I'm not sure yet." Bruce said, moving away from the table to go and sit behind his computer. "I do know that it is from the planet Kuth." He said, showing you a picture of an Earth-like planet with a turquoise sky and a field of these flowers that had signs around them, as though warding people to be careful of the flower patch. "Could be dangerous, might not be. Perhaps Loki or Thor or one of the Guardians will know. Loki's coming. . . when?"

"This Saturday." You said happily, missing your best friend and crush- though no one actually knew about the latter part.

"Excited to see him again?" Bruce asked skeptically.

"I know, I know, he's a terrible Midgardian killing God, but we're friends and that's behind him now." You said. "Plus, he was being slightly controlled by Ronan and Thanos, just like Bucky was controlled by HYDRA and you all like Bucky."

"Fair." Bruce relented. "But not everyone sees it like that either."

"And some people still think Bucky ought to be given the Death Penalty." You pointed out.

"Fair again." Bruce admitted. "Anyways, make sure that you keep away from this until I can figure out what it is. If its' poisonous, we wouldn't want a disease to break out over the city."

"Will do boss." You said cheekily and then made your way out of the room.

You couldn't wait to show Loki!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"It's a flower?" Loki asked skeptically.

The two of you were standing on the balcony, overlooking the pool. The other Avengers were stripped down to swim trunks and two-piece bathing suits, enjoying the nice day. Steve and Fury were barbequing on the grill with some help from Sam, while the girls were sunbathing on the law chairs.

Tony, Stephen, and Bruce were deep in conversation about something, a handful of beers on the table in front of them.

Thor was sitting in the pool, Parker and some of his friends from school in there too.

Bucky meanwhile was playing cornhole with Clint, Rhodey, and T'Challa.

"A beautiful flower." You clarified. You and Loki were pretty much alone on the balcony. Loki was wearing his normal Asgardian wear as he hadn't felt like wearing anything from Midgard, and you were wearing denim shorts and a shirt that you had tied off above the belly button.

"It's still a flower." Loki deadpanned, placing his hands on the railing, "What is this gathering they are doing?"

"It's called a pool party Lokes." You sighed, "C'mon, I want to show it to you."

Loki sighed, looking over at you. "Don't you want to join in on this pool party instead?"

You felt frustrated. You knew your crush was one-sided (as they always were), but you thought that Loki at least liked you as a friend. Or at least, you seemed to be the only one he tolerated. But friends shared things with each other all the time, right?

"No, I want to show you the flower which I'm not really supposed to show you because Bruce doesn't know what it is yet." You sighed, pushing away from the banister, "But it's okay. I realize guys don't really like those sorts of things. It's kind've hot, I'm gonna go inside."

Loki started for a moment, staring after you. He hoped he hadn't offended you, but flowers- well you even seemed to know they weren't something he'd want to see. But shit, it wasn't about him, it was about you.

"Wait!" He called, hurrying to catch the door, coming back into the building.

You were half tempted not to stop, but you did anyways, turning to look at him.

"I do want to see the flower, but I just didn't know if there was something else you'd rather do. The party looked like something you would've enjoyed." Loki explained.

Why the hell did he have to look so sexy? You wished you could see him in his pool garb. Black or green or gold swim trunks. No shirt. You imagined that he had a fit body underneath the layers of Asgardian leather. You could imagine black aviator shades on his face, his hair possibly pulled back into a ponytail.

You quickly shook your head to clear your thoughts and said, "Well, I knew you wouldn't enjoy the party. You don't really like them. Anyways, the flower is this way."

Immediately, he was caught off guard of your awareness for his likes and dislikes. Sure, he knew all of yours, perhaps even knowing more about you, than you did. But the fact that you were just as aware as him was strange.

Different.

Almost likable.

You led him down the hallway, taking the elevator to the bottom floor. You slipped into Bruce's lab, the door shutting behind the two of you. You led him over to the case display where he'd set up the flower under examination.

"It is quite unique." Loki admitted after looking at the flower for a moment. In reality, he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You were a strange mortal, no doubt, perhaps as unique as this flower in the right place. After all, this flower didn't stick out in its home, but it did on Earth. And he supposed each human was unique in their own way. You were just more special.

"I hope its not harmful." You said wistfully. "I want to know what it smells like."

Loki suddenly plucked the glass case off of the flower and you stared at him in shock, "What if it's poisonous! Loki put it back!"

"Calm down Y/N. A measly flower cannot kill me." Loki smiled, before lowering his nose down to smell the flower. After inhaling the scent, he pulled back. "Perhaps it is just me, but there seems to be a very strange smell coming from the flower. It's almost like. . . honey and almonds but that can't quite be right, can it?"

You bent down to smell the flower next. After all, it didn't seem to have affected Loki so it was probably safe.

Well that was strange because you didn't smell any of the things that Loki had smelt. Instead, you seemed to have smelt expensive leather, expensive cologne, and vanilla. Actually. . . it smelt a lot like Loki.

You laughed, "Kind've reminds me of Amortentia."

"What in the world is that?" Loki asked.

"It was a love potion in Harry Potter. Smells like the person that you are in love with so each person thinks the flower smells like something else." You explained.

Loki's cheeks flushed pink. "Ah I-"

But whatever he was going to say didn't matter, as two small pink hearts actually popped out of the flower. They were extremely small, small enough to fit on your pinky fingernail. They weren't filled in, but seemed rather a stencil. They floated upwards and you felt one land on the tip of your nose and looked to Loki in time to see the other hit him on the nose and then sink in.

"Are we dead?" You asked with fright.

Once again, he didn't get to answer because your lips were pressed together, your arms around each others necks. The kiss was messy and erotic, a clashing of lips, tongue, and teeth. It was like you were trying to devour each other, and neither of you were able to get any closer.

"This needs to come off." Loki growled, ripping the shirt from your body and you had no room to protest as you were feverishly stripping him of his Asgardian uniform, cursing the amount of layers he was wearing.

Loki attached his lips to your neck as you kicked off your own skirt, leaving you bare in front of him. Most of his clothes were off, though he wouldn't let you go to take his pants off. Those he shucked off himself.

It was like a very chaotic dream as the two of you seemed to almost wrestle with each other, over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. Loki swept everything off of the desk, making glass shatter, pens scatter, and papers drift out across the room.

Loki seemed to suddenly slam you down on the table, before plunging into you in a feral way. Your back arched off the table at the sudden intrusion, but you found that it had been a very easy entrance, as there was almost no pain.

"Fuck." You moaned, "Loki, faster."

"It's your highness to you." Loki growled again.

"Your highness!" You nearly screamed.

Everything seemed heightened, yet fuzzy. Like you couldn't even believe that your orgasm was already fast approaching and he'd barely been inside of your for a minute. Nor was he overstimulating you in any way that would make an orgasm approach so fast.

Your fingers dug into his forearms, spurring him on to move even faster inside of you, hips snapping against yours. You might've sworn that his balls were hitting you so hard in the ass that you'd have bruises tomorrow. His hands were definitely going to leave bruises all over your body from how tightly he was holding.

It was fuzzy though, like your brain wasn't really working. A small part in the back of your mind was telling you that this was bad, that this was wrong. It was going to ruin your friendship with Loki after all. How were the two of you going to recover after this? You were going to lose one of your best friends because of a stupid flower!

But that part was clear and the rest was fuzzy and you couldn't really focus on it with so much chaos going on around you. You were mostly feeling euphoric, barely even thinking about anything at all as your orgasm hit you like the impact of the bottom of a cliff.

You weren't sure how long you went or how many rounds or even how many orgasms. You know that you went from your back on the desk, to riding him on the floor, to being fucked into a chair, and then back to the floor.

It was like a dream and then the two of you seemed to slow down, things seemed to become clearer. The lights seemed less harsh and you realized that though the room was freezing cold, you were both covered in sweat.

You collapsed against Loki's chest and his arms drew you into him.

"Shit." He muttered. "I wasn't expecting that."

You were silent, heart pounding. You had had a crush on him for the longest time. You had wanted this for the longest time- but not like this. It was supposed to be mutual. It was supposed to be remarkable, rememberable.

You sat up slowly, searching for your clothes when Steve, Bruce, and Tony came walking in. Steve backpedaled so quickly upon seeing the two of you buck naked that he slammed his head into the doorframe, denting it rather effectively.

Bruce turned a nice shade of pink, covering his face with his hand.

Tony meanwhile, turned red and pointed to the stuff on the floor. "What did you do?!"

"I think that's very obvious Tony." Steve muttered, leaning his forehead on the wall so he didn't have to look at the two of you.

Loki seemed unconcerned, snapping his fingers so that clothes appeared on him again. Or maybe it was just an illusion, but either way you wished he could've done it for you.

You wrapped one of the office blankets around you and then you said, "Well, Bruce, we found out what your flower does."

#Braveclementineworks #Kinktober 2022 #Loki Laufeyson #Lokixreader #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki #Sex Pollen #non-con considered #pet names #Royalty kink #King Kink #smut #18+ readers only #kinktober prompt

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foxgloveprincess · 21 days

Text

My Heart is a Hollow Plain

Pairing: Pagan God Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader [First Person Narrator]

Summary: No one told you the price of living the life of which you’ve always dreamed.

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark (Soft Dark), Medieval(ish) AU, Polytheistic/Pagan Beliefs, Gender Fluid Loki, Mythology, Dubious Consent (Non-Graphic Smut), Death, Yandere Vibes, Deals/Contract (oral), mentions of Servitude, Magic, Jealousy, Yearning, Possessiveness. Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Welcome back to the Avenger’s Pantheon. Here’s Loki’s story. If you’d like to check them out, there are stories for Tony (Drabble), Steve and Bucky, Dr. Strange, and the Maximoffs in this AU. Enjoy!

Title from “Breath of Life” by Florence + the Machine

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

Candles flicker and drip. A cool breeze winds its way through the stones of the temple to circle my body. Knees aching, I complete my daily prayers and stand. I bow once more before the statue of the Widow and leave.

The sun shines down on hills of gently dancing grasses. They brush along my fingers as I walk along the path leading to town. A cart passes with jugs of milk and wheels of cheese. I wave to the farmer and fall behind them.

The market bustles, the cacophony drifting through the open air. I pause at the outskirts, bracing my mettle. Skirts clutched in my fists, I walk on. The crowd swallows me. Passersby jostle my shoulders and tread on my feet. Another body ignored. Quite invisible to those around me.

My mother’s head sticks up above the rest, her hair piled atop her head and adding height to her figure. She laughs and chats with her customers, wrapping loaves of bread and sweets in a cloth for them. She always sneaks in something extra—a clever ploy to draw them back week after week to her stall. My father works behind her, hefting baskets of bread from our bakery to place for sale around her before disappearing inside again. Market days always bring us the most business.

My name breaks through the noise. My mother’s hand in the air to beckon me closer. I raise mine in return and squeeze my way behind our table. She thrusts an apron to me and I tie it quickly about my waist.

“You took too long with your prayers,” she chides. “Your sister’s had to go off to buy our cheese. Left me all alone.”

“Sorry, mother,” I reply, hands already working to count out coins for a customer. I look up to the handsome man and press a tentative smile.

He bids my mother thanks and turns, figure disappearing into the crowd. No regard sent my way. The smile falls from my lips.

“Come along, then,” my mother says through the side of her mouth. “The morning’s just begun.”

We sell out of bread and sweets just after the sun reaches its pinnacle in the sky. Temperance returns from her errands, picking up not only mother’s cheese but other necessities she knew we needed. Some candles, a few new jars, onions, carrots, and herbs.

Father leaves to check his traps in the woods, hoping for a rabbit or even a squirrel. Mother begins to cook with what we have already. Her first seat taken after putting a pot over the fire to simmer.

My sister leads me up to our rooms, above our bakery. Two straw mattresses laid on the floor, a thin wall separating us from our parents. My sister’s hand squeezes mine, a nervous tick.

“I have news,” she says in a whisper. Our mother’s ears like those of a hound. Nothing escapes her.

“What is it?” I ask in an equally quiet tone.

“The gods have finally answered my prayers,” she whispers, almost forgetting herself with her excitement.

I nod and prod her along with an inquisitive word or two. She leaves me waiting in suspense not one moment.

“Matthew has proclaimed his love.” Her face beams so happy, I think it might crack like a delicate pot. “He wishes to marry me.”

I blink, stunned by such incredible news. My thoughts flit to my own prayers, left unheard by the gods. Loneliness my constant companion despite my yearning, my pleas, my offerings.

Temperance clears her throat. I startle and blurt, “Congratulations, sister. I’m so happy for you.”

Her smile dulls and she picks a piece of straw from within her mattress. “It does not seem it.”

“Of course I am,” I enthuse. “Mother and father will be, too.” I grasp her hand still in mine.

“He says he will ask father for my hand any day now,” she says with a slight less fervor.

“How wonderful,” I reply with the sunniest smile on my lips despite the torrent of jealousy swirling within my belly. “Your life has surely been blessed.”

She looks into my eyes. My younger sister always able to read my heart despite all my efforts to conceal it. Her hand squeezes mine.

“The gods will bless you, too.”

My mother and father bake a grand cake for my sister and Matthew. Stacked at the top of the others, Temperance and her new husband barely manage to kiss over top it without all the cakes toppling.

Our town fills the field behind our home with tables of food. As grand a feast as can be made. Roasted ducks and rabbits and boars, a dozen loaves of bread, jams and preserves, cooked vegetables galore—more food than I’ve ever seen in my life. I try each and every dish, despite the tuts from my mother’s tongue. My father drinks merrily, congratulations raining down upon him.

The afternoon passes into the evening and mother bids me retire. I prepare for bed alone and sleep alone. The first time I have done so since my sister’s birth. My eyes meet the ceiling of our roof and I blink away tears. I don’t know why I’m crying, not exactly. Missing my sister, loneliness, jealousy. All three swirl through my head.

I close my eyes and try to force myself to sleep—to little avail. Thoughts too loud in my head. Even as I hush them and focus. The creaks of my parents returning and the soothing night sounds just outside our window a boon, lulling me into rest.

The day after Temperance’s wedding I awaken as early as I normally do. There are trenchers and loaves and buns to bake. But first, to pray and lay offerings.

I take one of our lanterns and strike a flame outside our shop. Early morning light still slumbering behind the horizon. The familiar dirt of the road plods beneath my feet. The temple just outside of town upon our tallest hill.

The steep climb challenges me in the low light. The trek back home always just a little easier. A cold breeze brushes past my shoulder. The flame flickers but does not falter. And neither do I.

Mother and father always come to say their prayers after a hard day’s work. Yet I can’t begin my day without it. The darkness and solitude of the temple at this hour, it fills my soul. With the gods watching over just me for a moment, I feel seen.

Under the oculus, the moon shines pale and dim. I keep my lantern lit by my side. Letting the faces of the gods remain shadowed.

My fingers draw a familiar circle about me and the offering of blue iris and violets I have brought before they clasp together and I begin my prayer. The health of my family, my sister’s happiness, and, more selfishly, mine.

“Why are you here at this hour?” a sonorous voice asks.

Standing by the feet of the Horned Trickster, god of chaos and mischief, they stand. I cannot see their face to discern the line of their eye, but the hairs upon my arms and the back of my neck prickle. I do not leave my place, but my body recoils all the same.

“Do you pray for the same things every day?” they ask, unbothered by my silence. “Health, happiness.” Their hand flicks through the air in a lazy swirl. “Tedium and droll.”

“I know not for what else I should pray,” I respond, spurred by their tempting tone. I gather my flowers in my lap, their stems breaking under my tight grip.

“There is so much more,” they reply with a scoff, “to this world, to your pathetic existence, you need only ask for it.”

My lips part in shock. The man steps out of the shadows into the candlelight, and finally I see his face. More handsome than any other man in the village. He leaves me speechless with the sharpness of his emerald eyes and the arch of his brow. Raven hair falls to his shoulders, resting upon the finest silks of his doublet.

“Tell me what you truly desire.” Standing mere inches from my knees resting on the stone floor, he tilts my chin with two of his lithe fingers.

Meeting his gaze proves too intense. My eyes lower to his throat while thoughts whirl in my head. All of the things I have ever wanted. A marriage to a man who will love me for all my days. The fortune of kings. Recognition. Beauty. Praise. Power.

A smirk pulls at the corner of his lip. “Oh yes,” he purrs. “I see it.” He crouches before me and rests his free hand on his knee. His fingers trace my chin to my cheeks, and back again. “What would you do to receive such bounty from the gods?”

“I—” The phrase poised on my tongue sticks in my mouth, like honey that seals my lips together.

He hums in question, impatient for an answer.

I swallow, a lump in my throat, and croak around it, “I would do anything?” Though it spills from my lips as a question, it rings with truth. Conviction stirring in my belly at the words. My eyes raise to meet his, scared of his judgement.

He smiles and traces his fingers over my lips. “That is exactly what I thought.” He releases my face, though not the thrall he has cast over me. Enchanted by his looks as I am, I follow the movement of his hand as it snakes along my arm and grasps mine.

He rises, bidding me to follow until we stand beneath the oculus. Hues of pinks and gold bathe over us, the sun rising without. I glance up, panicked by the passing time.

“I must go,” I gasp, tugging from his grip. Yet he does not unhand me.

He says not one word until I meet his eye. “I will provide all for you,” he says with a gentle squeeze of my hand. As though he were my lover making an eternal promise. My heart thunders in my ear. Light shines on his skin from above, a dazzling glow that washes him in divinity. “Commit only to me, and I will be your servant.”

My mouth dries. I stand, stunned, before him. “Are you a god?” I whisper, head bent toward him to share such an abounding confidence.

A smile curves his lips. “What is your answer?” he asks in turn, disregarding my own question.

I stare into his grass green eyes, luminous and intense. Heat fills my cheeks. The sun continues to rise. The temple sits quiet. He waits, his hand trapping mine.

“Where have you been?” my mother blusters, stacking loaves of bread behind our counter.

The door to our bakery closes behind me with a soft click. “I’m sorry, mother,” I say, rushing to grab my apron and tie it about my waist. “My prayers took longer than I expected.”

“What could you possibly pray for?”

The sting of mother’s words pierce my chest, but I do not say anything. “Every day, prayers and every day, late,” she mutters under her breath. “You awaken the gods too early.”

Her finger wags in my direction as she turns and places her hands on her hips. Ready as ever to drone about her displeasure. But once she looks at me—really looks—she falls silent. Her lips part and she blinks.

“What’s happened?” she asks, slowing into the motion of wiping her hands on her apron to rid them of flour. She steps closer and reaches to cup my cheek. “There’s something changed about you.” Though she whispers it like a secret, I hear her.

Passing by windows in the town on my walk home from the temple, I glimpsed my reflection. To my eye, I saw no difference. The same plain face, the same soft body, the same clothes. And yet, the way my mother looks at me anew—as if there were something noticeable, remarkable.

Blinking from her daze, she pats my cheek and turns away.

“There should be buns ready in the ovens,” she says with a loving lilt to her voice, “go and fetch them from your father.”

I nod, silent, and turn to the back where the oven burns hot and fills the room with its warmth and the smell of fresh bread. Memories of spending winters curled beside the fire and ovens with my sister tucked next to me fill my head. My hand rests on the stone of the surrounding wall and I glance around to find my father.

“Right there,” he grunts carrying a paddle of loaves over to cool. My father pays me little mind, but nods to the buns sitting off on a side table.

“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the tray and carrying it out to mother.

Mr. Fitz stands there with her, paying for a loaf of bread for his wife. He glances over at my entrance and smiles.

“Good morning,” he says with a nod in my direction.

I pause, stunned. So rare that customers take a moment to acknowledge me, let alone greet me. My mother whispers my name with a nudge to my side. It is enough to knock me from my frozen state and return the greeting. He doesn’t say more, collecting his loaf from my mother and his coins, before departing.

“You must be more friendly,” my mother says, “or all your good looks will be for naught.”

A smile threatens my lips. My mother’s favor of me extending only to the help I provide, never my countenance. That she reserved always for my sister—Temperance’s lovely smile and thoughtful spirit, true beauty shining out from within. A flutter of pride swells within me at her inadvertent praise. I agree with her quickly and return to work.

The morning passes in joyful company. Customers pleasant and plentiful. Each one sends a greeting and smile my way. They ask after my health and my temperament. They meet my eye and compliment my sunny disposition.

As the sun crests the top of the sky, Lord Grant Ward enters our bakery. A first for the local lord. His lordship usually more content to send out one of his many servants for such a menial errand.

His figure stands tall in our doorway. I catch a glimpse of him from just beside the door to the front, loading the few remaining loaves into a basket with my father’s help.

“I have heard such complimentary things about this bakery today,” he says, perusing our store with a skeptical eye. His toe scuffs across our floor.

“My lord,” my mother greets, “we are grateful for your visit to our humble bakery. How may we serve you?”

He looks down his nose at her and huffs a haughty breath. Not even a word of response. My eyes narrow, the heat of fury boiling through my veins. To dismiss my mother thus. I push the door open all the way and exit the back, sweat dotting my brow and basket under my arm. Ready to confront such discourtesy.

“My lord,” I bite with as much respect I can muster—which is not much. “May I serve you?”

A glance in my direction, and he pauses. The skeptical tilt of his brow evens to one of curiosity and understanding at once. He steps forward toward our counter.

“I believe you may,” he replies, tone honey sweet. “I wish to purchase all the goods you have remaining.”

“My lord,” my mother blusters, “you are too generous.”

He ignores her, eyes locked on my figure. His hand rustles at his belt, tugging away a pouch and handing it in our direction.

“Will this suffice?”

I bob in a curtsy and accept it. My mother hovers over my shoulder as I open the pursestrings and look inside. Coins glint up at me. My mother counts aloud but trails off.

“My lord,” she says with a voice full of awe and respect, “it is surely too much.”

“Then accept it as payment for the inconvenience of closing your shop early.” The lord waves his hand through the air. “Will that please you?” he asks in a lowered tone, directly to me.

“Yes, my lord,” I reply, ire cooled but not entirely appeased. “How shall we deliver your goods to you?”

He hums and steps closer, hand reaching to pluck at the fibers of my basket. “I shall send a cart with instructions. Will you meet them?”

“Yes, my lord,” I say and take a step back.

His brow quirks at my retreat, but he says nothing more. Merely nods in acceptance and bids us farewell.

“To see that look in his eye as soon as I drew his attention toward me,” I explain. My light flickers at my feet beside the godly figures. “How insufferable. To treat my mother with disrespect.”

Fingers trail along the nape of my neck. I know them to be there, yet they have not revealed themself from the shadows.

“Of course,” I continue in a more subdued tone, “he did send his cart. He collected every bit of our bread. Took what he wanted and gave the rest to the needy.” My own hand wipes the side of my face. “Perhaps I regard his character too quickly.”

“You were right to judge him as you did,” the voice soothes behind me. Different than before.

Turning over my shoulder, I seek the visage of the god with whom I struck my deal. A figure emerges, softer, curvier.

I bow my head in respect, sure I’ve been addressing a goddess in mistake. “Pardon my musings,” I rush, knees ready to collapse to the floor. “I misspoke.”

Lithe fingers lift my chin. My eyes meet the emerald green of my patron, set in feminine features still as striking as before.

“You make no mistake,” she says with a smile tilting her lips. “I am here, my sweeting.”

My mouth forms around words I cannot speak. Enthralled by her still, I contemplate the change in her countenance and find myself unable to avert my gaze.

“You should know the fleeting nature of my appearance,” she explains. “I take many forms. How like you this one?”

“You are breathtaking,” I reply in a whisper. Clearing my throat from such bold speech, I reach into my pocket and withdraw the buttery raston and small jar of my mother’s plum preserves wrapped in cloth I have brought in offering. “To thank you, and reaffirm my vow of devotion to you.”

She unwraps the parcel. Her smile widens. A wave of her hand and only the cloth remains. Its contents vanishing before my eyes. Cupping my cheeks in her hands, she presses a kiss to my forehead—a blessing. “Thank you, my darling. You will go to town and continue to enchant all who live there,” she instructs, thumb brushing the apple of my cheek, drinking in the soft breaths which pass my lips and the surety of my attention. Her gaze meets mine with a grim darkness. “But be wary of Lord Ward. He covets you for himself. And you…” she prompts.

“I serve you.”

My steps crunch through the underbrush of the forest. Unused to traversing such uneven ground, I walk slowly. Father’s back pains him. My mother stays in our bakery with the few loaves we made this morning. So I search through the woods for his traps, content for a moment away. Engaged with my own thoughts. My patron a shining beacon in the forethoughts of my mind.

“Who dares to trespass on my land?” a voice booms through the trees. “Reveal yourself.”

My heart jumps in my chest and takes up a thundering beat. My hand clutches at my chest, though I cannot soothe myself. Careful movements carry me toward the sound of the voice. Yet one false step and my ankle twists. I yelp. The cold earth greets me as I fall and sounds of a hurried strides reach my ears.

“Who’s there?” Closer now, Lord Ward’s voice carries clearer.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” I call back, knowing he approaches still. “I did not realize these were your lands.”

He stops before me, the leather of his shoes black as night. I dare not cast my gaze up to catch his ire. Instead, I keep my head bowed in deference and pray for help.

“You need not fall to the floor,” he says in an air of curiosity.

“Yes, my lord,” I say.

“Let me help you.” He offers a gloved hand. I eye it before meeting his gaze.

“Thank you,” I accept and lean on his strength to help me rise. My lips seal against a whimper of pain and I shift my weight to rest upon my uninjured foot.

“You are hurt,” he observes. Both of his hands offered to aid me.

“I will be well, my lord,” I assure with a pat to my hands on my skirt to dispel the dirt and leaves clinging to my palms. “It is nothing.”

He steps even closer still. My breath catches in my lungs. “Allow me to escort you home.” He speaks with such a gentle articulation, it sparks a flutter of my heart. If only he behaved thus upon our first meeting.

“I thank you, my lord,” I say, picking my words carefully. “Though I must continue to my father’s traps. I fear I only have turned myself around. Forgive me for trespassing.”

“You’re forgiven,” he says with a nod, “always.”

I swallow and find I can meet his eye no more. Heat fills my cheeks, as if I labored too long beside the oven. I pat them with trembling fingers and cannot understand my lack of ease.

“If you will not allow me to escort you, perhaps you might concede to one of my servants accompanying you?”

“I would not wish to inconvenience them by taking them away from their chores, or you, my lord, in turn.” I step back, glancing over my shoulder as not to stumble and inflame my ankle further.

“May I at least check to see if the bone is sound?” he asks, already lowering to one knee and offering his hands out for my foot.

My teeth sink into my lower lip and I raise my injured leg, placing it into his grip. He tests the joint. Turning it one way and another. I wince, but do not draw away. The sooner I may satisfy the lord, the sooner I may return to my task. Once satisfied, he places my foot back to the ground and stands.

“Be careful,” he commands, with a hint of a smile drawing his lip upward. “I will send a messenger this evening to ensure you make your way home safely.”

“Thank you, my lord,” I say one final time before turning and limping away to continue my hunt.

He calls my name one more time, but when I turn, he waits in silence before a last, “farewell.” As though he wishes to say more, yet something curbs his speech.

I take my leave, slow and reluctant as curiosity nips at my heels. Though I may well have stayed with the lord and heard him out for all my victory. My father’s traps sit without any bounty. Empty.

I sigh and sink to the ground. A moment of respite so my ankle may rest. My hands dig into the soft, decaying leaves of the forest floor. My head tilts to the sky. A breeze blows through the trees.

Something wraps about my wrist. I jolt and lift my hand, ready to shake loose any impediment to its movement. Yet find a snake wound about it. Like a cuff, it sits just at my wrist, head raised to meet my eye.

I freeze. The snakes of which I’ve heard bite their poor victims, leading to a painful death. I swallow hard and wait for the creature to slither on its way. It does not.

“Please go,” I plead.

Its head tilts. Its tongue flicks. It stays.

I stare at it, slow movements turning my arm one way and another to take a better look at it. The shine of its scales, the intelligence in its eyes.

“Please don’t bite me,” I whisper as I move, looking at its long body, content to perch upon my arm.

Its head moves back to look at me. In the hush of the forest, the breeze ripples through the leaves. Birds chirp. But there is silence around us. A moment, looking into the creature’s eyes where the world around me dulls.

“You are no ordinary snake,” I pronounce in soft tones.

Its tongue flicks. It tickles my skin and I flinch from the unexpected sensation. Thoughts entangled with what sign this creature might bring. It’s relation to the gods. Stories of them and their familiars, their sacred animals. Only one holding snakes in their regard—the Horned Trickster.

“Send my regards to your master and mine,” I say, lowering my hand.

Its muscles move, slithering toward the ground from my fingers. It disappears beneath leaves and between trunks. The sun shines down through the forest canopy, heading to its resting place beyond the horizon. The afternoon heat cooling on a breeze. I push myself to stand, gazing after the snake’s possible path. A sigh blows past my lips, hands brushing dirt away from my skirts. Shuffling carefully through the roots and foliage of the forest, I head home on much steadier feet.

“I do not know how it happened,” I lament many weeks later. Head in hands, my mind struggles toward some semblance of understanding.

My patron stands leaning against the statue of the Thunder Warrior, their gaze tilted toward the ceiling. I begin to pace before them, around in a circle, perplexed by the path of my life.

“Lord Ward has called after me thrice now within the week.” My hand smooths over my hair, trying to help my thoughts remain in my head, and not floating away in a whirl of imaginings.

“You think of him often, do you?” their bored tone comments.

My brow furrows. I pause. “I suppose,” I reply. “Can one not when a man supposes to be so enamored?”

“It is everything you wished?” they ask, though the way they say it—like they don’t need an answer. A harsh bite to their words upon which I do not dally.

Instead, I give them an answer, “It is what I prayed for. I cannot help the fondness that has grown within my heart.”

A deep hiss rumbles from the shadows, filling the temple and rattling my bones. My hands jolt to cover my ears, teeth clenched shut against the grating sound.

“Do not forget,” he says stepping from the shadows to reveal his form, his lip curled and brow set, “you’ve committed yourself to me in this life and the next. You will never marry. You are mine.” His eyes blaze with a barely suppressed rage, fiery and dark.

Stunned by his venom, I ask, “If I am not to marry, what use is the rest? I wish to be loved.” Tears prick at my eyes, distraught as his commandment settles within me. I am to be alone. Regarded by all—and loved by none.

His fury cools, eyes piercing daggers in the low light. “You made your choice,” he states in a crisp, clear cadence, dispassionate and cold.

“I gave you my trust blindly,” I shriek in response. My hand grasps at the cloth of my bodice, grip tight and heart aching. I swallow a panicked sob. “How could you deceive me so? I have only ever done as you bid.”

“Do you love him?” my patron asks, accusation sharp. Answering my distress with such little regard.

Stutters of sound fall from my lips, none forming an answer. The weight of my mistake presses down upon my chest until I cannot breathe. So often my patron had been obliging and kind, the stab of this betrayal far too deep. A chasm opens in my chest and out of it, I speak. “My sister is married and thinks herself already with child. I wish for the same, and I—”

With one last look at the indifferent expression on my patron’s face, my heart shatters. Feet rush from the temple. The candle flickers in the dark, left behind as I dart into the night. Rain spatters across my cheeks, the slick of mud beneath my shoes. Though I do not hesitate, used to the path up the hill and the slightest hint of light on the horizon. Rushing, slipping steps carrying me down the slope. Hoping perhaps my folly might remain far behind at the feet of the gods. That I might escape, even to find myself returned to my previous unremarkable life. Until I reach the cross of the roads and pause. Skirts drenched from rain and weighed down with mud. Chest heaving, coughing in the damp air from exertion. Lost in my own thoughts, the steady approaching clip of horses’ hooves escapes my notice.

Only the impact of their bodies and the tread of wheels over mine thrusts me back to the present. I lay on the ground, gasping for breath, pain ravaging every measure of me. My lips part to call upon my patron, a last plea, but find I cannot. The whisper of a final breath leaving my body and sending my soul along its path to the River.

The waters lap at the sides of the boat in the dark. The Goddess of Death, Hela, stands behind me, oar in hand to push us along with the current across the river.

“Do not touch the waves,” she cautions. The pole moves through the water. “They are full of forgotten memories from those who have crossed. A temptation, but one drop will turn you mad and bind you to its tide.”

I recoil from the edge of the boat to sit upright. Gaze falling to my hands, lighter than air they sit in my lap, grey. No thoughts fill my head. Just silence, peace.

Turning to the Goddess of Death, I ask, “do any memories remain to those who have died?”

“Only those that bring you comfort,” she says without a look toward me or any inflection of sympathy.

A murmur of understanding passes from me, finding consolation in the honesty. Though I cannot place a reason for it. Already, my memories drift along the stream of the Gods Blood. Lost to me.

The oar lifts from the river and rests against the side of her vessel. Her head tilts, gazing up at the eternal black sky above us. Her brow pinches in confusion. I follow the path of her eyes, but see nothing.

A resounding hiss builds around us. The waves of the river grow larger, the boat rocking. The Goddess of Death holds out a hand to steady us upon the water. A displeased glare prominent on her features. Whispers of words drift around the boat, a fog rolling in from behind. Hela turns to slash a hand through it. Unable to make it disperse.

I cling to the bench of my seat, the dullest fear tickling the edges of my consciousness. But nothing more. Perhaps I should fear capsizing and madness, yet such emotions remain indistinct—a consequence of death, to be sure.

In a moment, Hela turns to lash out at a perceived threat and a great appendage wraps about my waist. Warm and strong, it constricts, but I have no breath to halt nor bones to break. It lifts me into the air, shadowed by the darkness of night. I dangle limp and lifeless from its embrace, the prize of its hunt. Perhaps a monster of legend stealing away my soul for a meal. Another fate which engenders no true dread.

A cry chases our ascent into the dark sky. The echoing roar of the goddess’s outrage at losing one of her souls and failing her duty to take me across the Gods Blood. But we ascend regardless.

My eyes close against the light that breaks through the dark clouds, blinded. We land upon solid earth. Flowers rising to greet my fingers, yet passing through like air. I cannot feel them.

The appendage around my waist releases me for a hand, instead, to clasp mine. My eyes turn to the person beside me. Familiar, yet I cannot put name to the lovely, angular face.

“My love,” they say, lithe finger tipping my chin toward them, “We are home.”

They guide me through the doorway of the quaint cottage before us. Another familiarity I cannot place in the haze of my incomplete memories.

The fire roars in its place. I step toward it, vague recollections of comfort tickling at the edges of my mind. I reach out to the licking flames, and feel no warmth.

A hand wraps about mine, guiding me away. They squeeze, and the reassurance of the gesture surges through me. The fingers of my other hand settle on their wrist, petting along their skin up to their sleeves. The fabric of their garments silky under my fingertips. I catch their eye, questions forming on the tip of my tongue. Who are they? Why did they steal my soul? Why am I here?

“Now, my beauty,” they praise. Their lips brush a soft kiss to my forehead. My eyes flutter shut to drink in the sensation. “You will truly be mine.”

Such familiarity, I do not ken. Their face so imprinted upon my thoughts without any recognition.

“I do not remember you,” I admit, staring into their emerald eyes and praying for some spark to ignite.

“That does not matter,” they soothe, thumb rubbing over the back of my palm. “We will have eternity to know one another.”

And we do. Years passing outside the windows of my cottage. Buildings fall, crumbling to dust. Only one of them, a bakery down the road, filling me with any notion of regret as its owners cross the River and time creeps across its walls.

Apart from it all, I watch. Drifting through the cottage, invisible to passersby. Though, even still, whispers reach me—haunted, they call my home. And they are not wrong. The world withers around me, and I remain, a shade bound to the cottage.

Only one bringing me any solace, any relief. They enter the front door and greet me with a smile, their hands offering sensation, feeling. I grasp onto them, reluctant to release them for a moment of their visit. To return to the dullness of my existence without them. The nothing which awaits me upon their withdrawal.

“Hello, my love,” they say. Their fingers tilt my chin and I meet them in a sweet kiss. My fingers pulse about their hand. We part and I let myself fall into the greedy hunger of their gaze.

Their head dips again, lips seeking more. Which I give—again and again. A kiss which might steal my breath if I had any. Their passion a spark igniting between us. Their moans filling the room around us. My fingers sink into the muscle of their shoulders. Clinging to each sensation. I cannot let them go.

“Sweeting,” they gasp. Hands wander across my form until they hitch me into their arms, my body of no substance. ”Come with me.” Though they give me no true choice in the matter—as if I would refuse them and their constant touch.

They carry me to our bed, and set me upon it without once letting me go. Following me to the plush cushions and sheets, their body pins mine to the bed and the weight of it brings a contented sigh to my lips. They drink it in and pull back to meet my gaze.

As always, as I lay beneath them with their eyes shining bright and affectionate, they prompt, “You are…”

“Yours.”

“Yes,” they purr and return their sweet lips to mine.

Unable to grasp at the bedding beneath us, I let my hands clutch at them. Our bodies joining together in amorous undulation, seeking the divine thrill of ecstasy. Chasing that peak of my existence. When the world around me explodes in bright color and brilliance. When I feel alive and whole before it fades and I return to the numbness of my eternity.

They murmur words of love into my ears. The sweat of their body cooling them. A dull shine radiates from their skin. Their holy light, they once told me. Their head rests upon my breasts, their breath tickling across me. I swallow and let my fingers weave into the silky tresses of their hair, the world dimming by the second.

“Welcome home, Loki.”

read more of The Avengers Pantheon at The Undone and the Divine

#loki x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #medieval au #mythology au #loki fanfic #loki fanfction #the avengers pantheon #dark #dark fic #polytheistic au #yandere vibes #dub con #tw dub con #heed the warning #18+#minors dni

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unityrain24 · 4 months

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❅Jotun Loki Design❅

my submissions for @jotun-design-party, though i don't know if it's too late (deadline was december 17th, and it it still dec 17 for me {by less than an hour} but idk if it is for it). If i missed the deadline, i'm sorry.

I had been looking forward to this for several months (and even started a separate jotun loki design months ago in preparation/excitement), but i just haven't been able to do much as of late. Which is sad. And while i had been planning to enter the contest for months, as it drew nearer i realized i probably wouldn't be able to. Which was very sad, because this is one of the only things i've actually looked forward to in forever :(.

As such, though, i really didn't want this oppurtunity to go to waste, like so many others i've had to, and especially in light of magpiemurder going to leave its account soon, i just decided i'd have to push though and do it. I spent pretty much all of today just drawing drawing drawing. Traditional sketched, and then "quickly" added colour digitally (it took several hours as well).

also. all the designs are supposed to be symmetrical (save design 四 and the nails in designs 三&四), so if you see any mistakes... sshhh