#loki laufeyson x reader smut

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Urge [Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] Loki's lack of magical contraception yields unexpected results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Breeding kink. Smut. Language. Dirty talk. (w/ 1.8k)

"I can smell you." You stopped rinsing dishes, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning off the tap. He’s home early, you thought with mild interest. “What?! Two seconds...” you called. The sound of Loki dropping his keys into the dish by the door rattled. Metal on porcelain. You turned towards the noise, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders suddenly filled the open kitchen doorway. “I said... I can smell you.” he repeated darkly, leaning against the frame.

Loki’s pupils were dilated, only a sliver of electric blue visible at the furthest rims. You ran your hands up the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to coax a smile. “Well I haven’t showered since last night but I didn’t think it was that -oh!” Loki stooped, hoisting your ass-cheeks with his huge palms. Your legs instinctively cinched around his hips, clinging on. It was a long drop to the floor. “I mean what’s between your thighs, wife.” he hummed menacingly. “You’re ripe.” Heat flushed your cheeks, a thrill thundering to the lowest centre of your sex. It was happening. “Are you sure you’re ready for the weight of my full load?” he snarled against the shell of your ear, the meaning in his words abundantly clear. You shivered. Loki had lifted the enchantment impeding his ability to impregnate you, and it had...side effects. “It will be four times what I usually spend inside that tight little slit of yours. I hope you can take it.” he murmured under his breath as he paced in long strides to the bedroom. He lowered you to the bed. You scrambled back on the mattress, running your eyes hungrily up his triangular torso. “And I hope you can keep it.” he spat, roughly yanking the knot in his tie. Loki had warned you that the tidal wave of god-level hormones would make him a little strange. A little less...sentimental. But even he wasn’t aware just how animalistic he would become in his mission to give you what you desired. What you both desired. He stripped the black suit jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning the dark shirt slowly as he tilted his head. His gaze stalked over your body, breathless and flushed. He was hard already, his thick cock snaking down his thigh against the tight cotton. “How am I to make you fat with my offspring if you do not remove your clothes?” There was a venom in his voice that made you clench. “Oh, right- sorry.” you mumbled, tugging off your stained t-shirt. You lifted your hips, fumbling the waistband down. “Too long.” he scoffed impatiently, before leaning and grabbing the lowered nylon crotch. In one swift movement, the leggings ripped at the seams, half of the pair landing on the bed-knob. Your husband's stare smouldered with barbarism, his deep love hibernating as primal urges came to the fore. Loki ripped the belt from his hips, the coil of leather falling discarded with a loud crack to the floor.

You shuffled backwards on the martial bed as he unzipped his trousers, the perfect cock that had made love to you thousands of times looking different somehow. Harder? Bigger? you thought frantically, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his naked body descended. Loki’s hair fell wild around his collarbone, eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin to his chest. That smouldering gaze never left your own. “Don’t be afraid, darling." Loki nudged your knees apart gruffly. “You are worthy of breeding with a god, you should be grateful.” He wrapped his long fingers around your delicate wrists. “And I intend to thoroughly breed you tonight, pup. You can be sure of that.” You could feel the swollen tip of his manhood sliding against your entrance, the sticky mess of ovulation grasping against pre-cum gathered at the head. “Oh-my-g-god…” you gasped, unable to form proper words. You had never been more turned on in your life.

“That’s it. Praise me, little one.” Loki purred, before a long inhale made his eyes flutter closed in lust-drunk anticipation. “Such a well-bred cunt you have...” he hummed appreciatively, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “Perfect for a god’s seed...” he rasped, releasing one wrist to palm the nearest breast upward. “... perfect for soaking in what I have to give.” he continued lazily. Loki nuzzled against your ear as his grip returned to the free wrist strewn above your head. “My prize breeding bitch.” You arched your back, feeling your pussy gape against the throbbing cock nestled tauntingly between your folds. Ready to burst. He released a ragged moan against your ear, pulsing between your open thighs. “I can’t keep myself out much longer, I can’t resist you like this – you have one final chance to stop before I fill you.” he panted quietly, a semblance of familiarity cracking through feral domination. You shook your head, murmurs of don’t stop passing your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his own. He snarled, mouth falling open as his wide tip squeezed past the tight opening. Loki swallowed, the veins in his neck straining. “Prepare for everyone in nine realms to know you have been fucked into this pathetic state.” he growled ceremonially. He bottomed out with a staggered groan as his grip on your wrists tightened. “And fucked by whom.” You squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips into the curves of his enormous muscular thighs. Waves of bliss soared as he grunted with every slow thrust, devastatingly measured. “Tell me I’m your slut, Loki-” you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs mercilessly towards your ears. Loki's eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking around the mess of twin flesh. He grit his teeth, curls swinging around his jaw as he watched himself disappear repeatedly into your ripe heat. “Remember who it is you have sheathed in your cunt, little one.” he grunted, balls slapping. “I only fuck my slut, I don’t breed her.” You whimpered, lost in a haze of unadulterated eroticism. It was filth. His voice. His hands. His cock. His words. “You’re so fucking t-tight.” he gasped, releasing a rasping moan that shook the Asgardian trinkets on the side-table. “I’m going to pound you so full of my...uhhh- sacred c-cum that you’ll be dripping from that pretty m-mouth.”

Your husband's voice vibrated around the apartment, the timbre so low you were sure it would sink through the floorboards. He was unhinged, the grip around your calves making halos of lightened skin appear beneath the dent of his fingertips. “Don’t-don’t stop...Loki” you gasped, frozen in place by his weight. The god snarled, his upper lip disappearing as his eyes flashed. “I said I would breed you, and I intend to.” he spat, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you to all fours. His slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch as your palms hit the mattress. In a flash, long fingers grasped the nooks of your hips, sinking himself possessively back inside. The two of your groaned in unison as your ass hit the flat of his stomach.

“The way that ripe pussy is desperate to milk me, I won’t last…” he fawned, before placing a tight slap against your ass. “But then, pleasure is not the order of business. Not your pleasure, anyway..” The god muttered darkly under his breath, rhythmically pulling you tight against the base of his shaft before pushing you forwards. The fingers against your flesh would leave bruises. Animalistic grunts clouded the air like smoke as he railed into you like the beat of a drum. You could feel the veins in his cock swell. They pulsed, his body gearing to give you what you craved. Loki’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths scorching the air as he lost himself in the mission. Lost himself in the urge. Whines of his name leaked from your throat, your cheek lowering to the mattress- ass in the air like a bitch in heat. Loki’s hips juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit making you want to scream. And then you screamed. Loki chuckled, a choked laugh between stuttering, messy pumps. “That’s it. That’s.it - my breeding mare, taking the mount of your s-stallion as he fucks you full- f-f-fuck-” You and he moaned in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folded against your back. You could feel the condensation of primal need on your neck from his breath, his cock tugging inside your needy pussy with shallow thrusts as he came undone. He needed this. He needed it just as much as you did. “Fill me p-prince- yes, give it...fucking give it to me-” you thundered. Your hips thrashed as you shoved you ass back to keep his cock steady against your wet centre. “All of it?” Loki choked, planting another smack on your ass with a broken moan. “Every fucking d-drop…” you managed through a strangled cry. The god roared behind you. You could feel thick cream spurt against clenching walls, hot seed sloshing and rising inside the deepest part of you. Loki's firm chest curled against your spine, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on your back. His hips juddered as he emptied himself inside your messy, fertile heat. Every drop. You could sense the clench of his perfect ass as he pumped several more times, milking himself in the slop of his own seed. Dwindling ragged grunts peppered the air, the tender slide of his palms over the curve of your ass telling you that his work was done.

“Stay still.” he murmured, carefully drawing himself from between your legs. Wet slurps filled the air, the light touch of his fingers grazing against your dripping slit. Inspecting. “Turn over-” he said gently, as if to a patient; “-slowly.” he added, before guiding you on your back. There was a broad smile on his face. “Legs up.” he quipped, still kneeling. You rolled your eyes playfully, manoeuvring your crossed ankles to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you.” he said tentatively, placing a deep kiss on the calf to his side. A blissed-out smile fluttered on your lips. “I love you too.” you replied, reaching for his hand. Loki squeezed. “Based on that performance, we should probably make the most of the next few days.” you sighed, resting back against the pillow. Loki scoffed. “Have you so little faith in my ability to-” He trailed off, seeing the twitch of your eyebrow. “Oh.” he smouldered, pushing his hair back with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. Indeed, darling. Very wise.” He placed another kiss on your ankle, the tip of his nose inhaling seductively down your calf as his words made you shiver with anticipation. “Better safe than sorry.” he whispered darkly against your skin.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki x fem reader #loki breeding kink #loki marvel #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki laufeyson x reader #lokismut #loki x you #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot

[hunny-beann]

Worship; Devastation

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: Prince Loki gets some ideas regarding worship upon witnessing his lover in the particularly ethereal lighting of his bathing quarters...

And honestly, what is worship if not laying your utterly devastating touch upon your lover just to watch them unfurl before you?

Or, alternatively:

Devotion, reverence, and veneration at the hands of a god in 3,800 words or less

Note: Welcome back to the smut fest! Similarly to my last Loki smut fic, I also wrote a great deal of this one very early in the morning, so my apologies for any errors that I didn't manage to spot and edit out. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Semi graphic NSFW, vulgarity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

She sat, naked as the day she she had been born, upon the edge of the royal bathing pool reserved solely for her beloved, the warm water lapping gently at her ankle as she leaned back on her forearms, right knee bent so one foot rested on the rune etched lip of the younger prince's extravagant bath.

It felt very Loki indeed, to have bathing quarters that seemed far more like a swimming pool than a tub, and she relished in the energy of the space, each detail reminding her of the man who floated gracefully in the waters just beneath her.

If her eyes were not closed at that very moment, she was certain that she would be unable to help but stare at him, not with the distracting way that his hair splayed out upon the surface of the water, or that his skin all but shone in the morning sun that doused the two of them from the skylight above.

This was not her first morning bath with him, far from it in fact, but as she basked in the sunlight, she still felt herself jump when a familiar hand wrapped around the ankle that dangled within the water, her eyes flying open to find his stunning blues already awaiting her gaze.

And oh, what a sight he made.

There he was, Prince Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief, entirely bare within the warm waters of his bath, and submerged to his upper arms, revealing his strong shoulders, angular jaw, and sharp collar bones, all of which dripped almost tantalizingly with slow moving droplets of water, which clung to his skin in a manner that nearly made her jealous of them.

He looked up at her with an earnest curiosity and something that almost bordered on vulnerability, his grip loosening but not quite fading from her ankle as his thumb began to stroke the flesh just above where the water ceased to lap at her.

Eager to find out what had caught the attention of her lover, she leaned forward, placing her hand atop his own as she tilted her head in a silent question that she soon vocalized in spite of her subtle gestures.

"Is there something wrong, dear prince?"

She asked, her voice quiet and with an almost breathless quality that only seemed fitting for such a peaceful morning.

In reply, Loki simply placed his free hand on the lip of the bath and used that as leverage to pull himself ever closer to her, his other detaching from its wrapped position around her ankle so he could move it upward, fingertips craving the feeling of more of her soft skin beneath them.

Meanwhile, she watched him with a curiosity of her own, taking in with a vast gratitude unknown to the man just beneath her the details of his person, from the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose, to those that rested upon his shoulders, all the way up to the curve of his brow and the way that his black locks looked when slicked back from both the water and the way he had inevitably run his hands through them.

"Not quite."

Loki answered, his voice low and still slightly thickened by his semi-recently halted slumber, though those eyes of his swam with a subtle amusement that betrayed how much he and his lover's conjoined time in the bathing quarters had energized him.

"I simply desired to ensure that I wasn't still dreaming."

He continued, expression remaining slightly awe-filled as he looked up at her from the waters not far below, his once less occupied hand coming to rest upon her previously bent leg, which was now lowered alongside the other into the water as she continued to sit upon the bath's edge, his fingers kissing her damp flesh with a well known gentleness that had her sighing out softly, a small smile finding her lips.

He watched her with such fondness, such peace that not so long ago, she would have thought was entirely unknown to him, and he had believed he would never find nor understand.

How wrong they had been.

And how grateful they were for that fact now that they each knew the touch of the other, the love of them.

And as she looked into her darling prince's eyes she was reminded of that love, even as she could not help but smile at his familiar dramatics, her hand reaching down to curl some of his hair behind his ear, allowing her touch to linger briefly upon his jaw before she moved back once more.

"And why would you think yourself still slumbering, my dear?"

She wondered aloud, half anticipating a peaceful silence to follow, only to find herself pleased when Loki's all consuming voice filled the room shortly afterward.

"Have you ever seen your love illuminated by a halo of morning sunlight?"

He questioned gently, his hands still creeping ever upward, now resting upon her knees as he awaited her response with a patience that felt foreign to her when acted out by him, though she certainly did not complain.

As her reply to her prince's immensely endearing question, she hummed, watching the way that the sun cast its light upon him in an almost ethereal manner, reminding her once more of his nature.

She smiled,

"I believe that I have. Quite often, in fact."

Loki's expression of adoration continued as he watched her fondly, a slight smile finding his perfect lips, curving them upward in that manner his love adored so ceaselessly.

"I see."

He drawled slowly, fingers massaging slow circles into her lower thighs all the while,

"Then surely you can understand why I've been enraptured so."

He reasoned, placing a gentle kiss to the side of her knee as he watched for her reaction, noting the way that she shivered slightly beneath his touch, still not quite used to him, even after years of his hands lovingly caressing her skin at each and every opportunity.

He selfishly hoped, in that moment, that she might not ever come to be, just so he could continue to bear witness to the way that her body, mind, and soul reacted to his affections forevermore.

In response to Loki's gentle words and teasing ministrations, his love sighed contentedly, her flesh reacting as if chilled in spite of the warm water still lapping at her ankles.

She allowed herself a moment to bask in the closeness of him before reaching to cup his jaw again with a smile, tracing the now abandoned path of a droplet of water that had made its way from his hair down to the bridge of his nose, where it had spilled over the side and ran along his cheekbone before ultimately losing momentum and fading to nothingness in the warmth of sunlight, leaving only a faint shimmer of dampness in its wake.

She watched him for a few moments, eyes looking fearlessly and familiarly into those ever softening blues until finally, she spoke up once more, seemingly having gotten her fill of the peaceful silence.

"I suppose that I can, yes."

She replied to his previous statement, fingers moving from his cheek down to his jaw where they traced the sharpness of it gently, as if afraid it might truly cut, or perhaps as a woman in love might do to the object of her affections.

Perhaps so, indeed.

The younger prince hummed happily in response to her touch, something akin to a purr rumbling deep in his chest as he pushed as close as to her as he could manage, both hands moving to her knees in order to place the backs of them upon his muscular shoulders, thus allowing him to them wrap his arms around them from below, his long and lithe fingers finding firm purchase upon her thighs as he did so, pulling her ever closer to the edge of the bathing pool,

closer to him.

And though he was certain that she had noticed, his darling did not complain, simply watching Loki with an amused gleam in her eye as he leaned his head against her thigh, expression almost dreamy as he watched her, taking in the vision of beauty that she was, now doused fully in the morning sunlight.

"Perfection."

He murmured gently, fingers dancing upon her skin as he pressed kiss after kiss to the thigh on which his head rested. And though she felt his smile as he did so, growing almost imperceptibly with each individual graze of his lips, she did not know why until he pulled away from her ever so slightly.

"Although,"

He began to say upon doing just that, eyes finding hers once more, allowing her to see the familiar sparkle of mischief that shone there,

"I do believe this means we have a problem, darling."

His voice was all but a purr now, low and rumbling with a certain level of mock concern to it that made his dearest love flounder slightly, gaze locked with his own as if the two of them were in contest with one another for who could see into the other's soul first.

Not that she could ever stand a chance, not against him.

"You see,"

Loki continued, both sets of his fingers pressing into the supple skin of her thighs as he massaged his way upward, eyes never leaving hers all the while, her body having long since been memorized by his hands.

"Perfection is meant to be worshiped."

He murmured, moving his head slightly to press a kiss to her opposite thigh before he pinched at the former deftly, causing his lover to gasp and jump slightly beneath him, a blush growing evident upon her cheeks.

He chuckled at her reaction, humming low in his throat as he continued to press his soft lips to her flesh, allowing them to linger long enough that there was no question of what his touch was meant to convey.

Gentleness, affection, love, desire, and a constant and heady hunger, one that all but drove him to madness each time he laid eyes upon his beloved.

Her breaths shuddered in response to his persistent touch, and she allowed their locked gazes to break as she leaned her head back upon her shoulders, fingers gripping tightly to the lip of the pool as she did her best to find her voice once more, having lost it upon the very moment his lips had pressed against her, as she always did.

"Are you saying that you wish to worship me, Prince Loki?"

She breathed out after several long seconds of silence, chest heaving slightly as she finally allowed her eyes to open once more, finding his almost immediately as he smirked against her upper thigh, his hands having moved to massage the outsides of them soothingly, keeping them poised atop his shoulders so he could control just how spread they remained for him.

He shook his head in response to her words, tutting slightly before nipping where she had expected him to present her with a kiss, causing her to gasp yet again as he chuckled and lapped gently at her soft flesh with that typically oh so sharp tongue of his.

"Oh no, dear heart."

He purred, spreading her thighs even wider in order to gain a proper view of her arousal, knowing all too well the blush that was no doubt ravaging her cheeks just outside of his view in response.

He leaned in further, ignoring the urge to lay his gaze upon her disastrously beautiful face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her bare heat, smirking to himself as he felt her begin to tremble impatiently as he did so.

He had spoiled her throughout the years, after all, never one to make her wait when she made her desire for him so plainly known. And he was truly quite proud of what a mess he had made of her once so vast patience, because what else did that show if not how wonderfully he'd treated her? How high he'd set her standards simply by virtue of ravaging her at nearly every available opportunity?

She was all but ruined for anyone else, that was for certain.

And if the prince had his way (as he so frequently did), that would never even come close to changing.

He laughed softly against her as he continued, his tongue moving up and down the outsides of her folds as he teased her relentlessly, always so eager to see her squirm at least a little before he gave her what she wanted.

He was not, after all, known for being the kindest nor the most merciful god,

And he could never quite resist the urge to remind his lover of that fact, even if just for a moment or two.

And that he did, ignoring her increasing number of quiet pleas as he pressed onward, spreading her wider before him as he separated her glistening folds to find the treasure that lied just within, which he teased without mercy until her legs shook upon his shoulders and her hands started to scramble for purchase atop the marble adorned floors of his bathing quarters.

Then, and only then, as she so plainly became a quivering mess before him, did he finally meet her gaze once more, relishing the look of her glazed over eyes, heaving chest, and slightly parted lips with a truly immense sense of pride.

The vision of her like this all for him was always so very worth the wait, and he thanked the stars that he had been blessed with enough patience to manage it (at least on occasion).

And then finally, as he saw her eyes begin to focus and felt her body relax ever so slightly beneath the coaxing of his still massaging hands, he spoke up again, answering his darling's long since abandoned question with a taunting amount of ease.

"I do not wish to worship you,"

He began, grinning wolfishly up at her as he pinched at those supple thighs once more, dragging his fingers achingly close to where she no doubt desired them without ever even considering the idea of going easy on her just yet.

No, not when he still had so much left to say.

He let a heavy silence fill the bathing quarters for a moment, broken up only by the sounds of his love's breathing and the dripping of water from behind him, always present and typically soothing in the normal circumstances of his morning bath.

Though today, he paid them no mind,

He had no need to be calmed, after all.

And then finally, just as his dearest love started to bite her lip in an effort to keep from pleading with her prince to give her more, he continued, bringing a finger up to circle her entrance as he did so, allowing him to revel in the sight of her arching her back for him, pressing ever closer in spite of the all too real threat of tumbling into the water alongside him.

She'd had very little desire to get wet that morning according to the excuse she had given him earlier on when asked through pouting lips why she would not join her lover in the bath.

Though, Loki supposed, it seemed as if he had ruined any goal she had of staying dry long ago, so perhaps she cared far less for such trivialities now.

He did not bother to ask, and instead chose to continue his now well drawn out statement from before.

"You see, my dear,"

He started, gathering some of her wetness onto his middle finger as he continued, enjoying the sounds of her whimpering beneath him far too much for his own well-being, let along hers.

"It is much more of a need, I'm afraid."

He purred softly, a false pout finding his lips even as he pushed his finger into her slick entrance, fighting back a groan as she all but sucked him in, always so ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give her.

He chuckled as she cried out in response, her head falling back to her shoulders once more as he began to pump a single long and dexterous finger in and out of her ceaselessly, adding in a second just as she started to wiggle her hips in that silent request for more.

"What a good girl you are."

He cooed teasingly, watching while she shivered at the sound of his voice, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to stave off an embarrassingly quick orgasm in response to his ministrations.

He had only just taken her this morning, after all, so how could she ever hope to look him in the eye again if she came so quickly even just after he had taken her upon his mattress?

Still, the prince had every intention of showing her exactly how helpless she was to his every touch, and rather than letting up when seeing her obvious attempts to hold back from letting go for him, he increased the speed of his fingers instead and crooked them upward slightly until he heard her gasp and felt her thighs tighten around his head from where they still resided atop his strong shoulders.

"Oh dear,"

He murmured, feigning surprise as he watched his beloved struggle not to simply give into her pleasures.

"Close already?"

He teased, watching her expression as she whined and writhed for him, his fingers never letting up even as he stretched her further upon adding a third, the feeling of which sent her mind reeling.

He was so good at this, too good, and who was she to deny a prince of what he wanted? Could she truly hope to?

Loki evidently thought not, and remained persistent, pacing his thrusts and ensuring that he was constantly hitting just the right spots inside of her, never one to give a lackluster performance, even so very early in the morning and so soon after his last.

Speaking of which...

"Even after this morning?"

He crooned, continuing his recent thought with even more mock surprise,

"Are you truly so sensitive, my love?"

He asked curiously, just barely holding back a groan as he watched the woman he adored so achingly arch her back even further, pressing ever closer to him, body so very eager to submit, and mind evidently not too far behind.

What a darling sight she made for, laid out and bare before him.

Now all that he had to do, Loki thought with a smirk, was strip her of her pride.

And of course, the best way to do that, was to remind her of exactly who it was that she belonged to, and just how helpless she was to his touch.

"Or, perhaps, is it something else?"

He questioned, leaning down to lick teasingly at her clit as she hissed and whined pitifully in reply, thighs trembling upon his shoulders all the while.

It was a telltale sign that she was close, though he chose not to tease her for that quite yet.

"Could it be your courses?"

Loki teased, knowing all too well exactly where his lover was within her cycle in spite of his questioning,

"Or maybe a preference for my fingers?"

He continued, watching as his darling cried out for him, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure as she grew closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

He chuckled, and, after a moment of thought, decided it was high time that he ended his charade for the time being.

"Or, my dear."

He began, groaning slightly as he felt her clench around his fingers in a way that made his engorged cock envious of their position, his mind suddenly filled with thoughts of her strangling his erection with her tight heat, her body always so eager to pull him in further and keep him there, begging for both of their releases.

Still, even with such rapturous visions flooding his mind, he managed to continue speaking, determined to remind her of why it was that she could cum so very quickly even so soon after their last tryst.

"Could it simply be how weak you are to my every touch?"

He purred, his voice devastatingly low and his eyes trained on hers as he spoke,

"How desperate you are,"

He continued, thrusting his fingers harder just to hear her cry out from beneath him,

"To feel my hands upon your flesh, and to hear my voice as I fuck you with whatever I so please into oblivion. Is that what it is?"

He growled, watching with immense pride as she threw her head back one final time upon hearing his words, her walls clenching around his fingers as she came hard only minutes after he had begun, encouraging a chuckle from her lover soon afterward when he finally pulled away, bringing his hand up to his mouth to fully taste her for the first time that morning as he gazed deep into her eyes, a moan of pleasure falling eagerly off of his lips all the while.

She blushed in response to this, but did not look away, her pride still just intact enough that she refused to let him get the better of her once more.

Loki remained like that for several rather long moments, savoring the taste of her until his fingers were clean, finally prompting him to remove them from his mouth so he could speak to her once more, though his words were no less teasing then than they'd been before.

"So, my darling."

He began, smirking as he rested his hand upon her thigh again,

"Do you have any qualms with me continuing to worship my dearest love upon this fine morning?"

He purred, his eyes lighting up eagerly when she swallowed thickly, shaking her head no in response just as he tightened his grip upon her legs.

"Perfect."

Loki replied casually, a glint of mischief entering his gaze once again just as a smirk fell to his lips.

And then, with a gentle tug, his love was falling into the water alongside him, pressed not long after to the wall of the bathing pool as his aching and engorged cock rubbed against her, all too eager to finally settle the score his fingers had recently turned in their favor.

It was no matter of course, they had all morning after all.

And an eternity after that.

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#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #lokismut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki odinson #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki marvel #loki x fem reader #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut #loki x you #loki oneshot

[blue-sadie]

Sit Upon The Throne

Imagine:

Being loki's caretaker ever since you were both kids you would just follow him and help him with his every need even if he treated you badly and now since he's finally taken the throne he wants to reward you for all your good doings.

"Now pet come here and sit upon my lap, don't withhold your moans as I pleasure you, these peasants are lucky enough just to even be in your presences since your the most valuable thing in this entire kingdom and your all mine"

#the avengers #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #avengers smut #avengers x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson x reader smut

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

For Smut Sign-off: March

Hiii, I was wondering if you could do Consensual free use with Loki laufeyson

Anyways I hope you have an amazing day/night 💋

Loki x Female!Reader

Prompt: Consensual Free Use

Content Warnings: 18+. Smut. Consensual free use. Reader is not allowed to look at Loki. Loki is rough with his hands. Loki pushes the readers face. Loki covers her mouth. Included pet names are 'kitten' and 'princess'. Beginning of penetrative intercourse.

This small smut drabble is a request from my ongoing March 'Smut Sign-Off' event! 💖

***************************************

"Kitten, kitten, kitten..." Loki tutted, his hands snaking up your skirt as you reached for a cup on the top shelf. "You can't walk around looking like this, and expect me not to just use you right here." His voice almost a purr in your ear, he maneuvered his hands to your ass, his palms cupping the skin. "It's almost like you want me too, hm?"

Today, you'd chosen to wear something a little more cheeky around the palace, a little more teasing for your God. Donning a sheer crop top, a mini skirt, and fish net tights, you had a feeling he wouldn't be able to resist you. In fact, you were counting on it.

"C'mere Princess." With a sharp movement, your panties were slipped down your legs, before you heard the familiar metal of his belt buckle, his own trousers falling to his knees. Breathing hitched and heart pounding, you turned your head to look at your dominant, to see what he was going to do to you. Yet, a harsh palm turned your head away towards the shelf. "Did I say you could look at me?" His tone harsh and scolding, tears already began to prick at your eyelids as you shook your head. "N-No, sorry."

"Good girl." Loki soothed you, a hum escaping his lips as he stroked your hair. Though, still, you couldn't help but feel a hint of anxiety, unsure of what to expect, unable to move, unable to prepare, unable to watch. But he owned you. Unless the safeword was spoken, Loki could have you whenever and wherever he liked. He didn't need to tell you, he didn't have to let you see. In these moments, you didn't factor. Your body was his to play with.

Still, shooting your shot, you inhaled a trembled breath. "L-Loki?" You stuttered, your eyes fixated on the wall ahead of you. "What are you gonna do to me?" Your voice hesitant, almost a whisper, was interrupted by a low chuckle from the God.

Gasping, you recognised the feeling of his thick shaft erect against your butt, sliding down to rest between your dripping folds. With a mindless grunt, Loki pushed against your entrance, his cock slipping effortlessly into your aching pussy.

As you released a loud, unprompted moan, the dominant wrapped a hand around your mouth, stifling your cries. "Whatever I fucking want too..."

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki laufeyson smut #marvel x reader #marvel smut #marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #consensual free use #smut #marvel x reader smut #Lexi's Smut Sign-off: March

[wannabemurdock]

Kinktober Day 7

kinktober masterlist

18+ only

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Loki Laufeyson (Odinson) + bondage

He tugs firmly on the ties around your wrist as he admires his own work.

“Better than any piece of art.” Anticipation drips down your thighs. Impatience bubbling within you. His finger tracing every rope and tie leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You shift on your knees as need within you becomes unbearable.

“So pathetic. So needy. And it’s all for me.” Even though you can’t see him but you know he’s keen to ruin you, but continues to torture you anyway. Dragging out the wait till you give him what he wants.

“Well… Beg for your king, love.”

#wannabemurdock’s kinktober #kinktober #marvel #marvel fandom #marvel smut #marvel imagine #loki odinson x reader smut #loki odinson smut #loki odinson x reader #Loki odinson #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #Loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #Loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki

[aesir-alchemist]

Hi, I'm The Problem, It's Me (it's the Avengers throw a party one) (Loki x Reader)

Summary: A continuation of the series where I write my take on my favorite fanfic clichés.

It's New Years Eve, and the holidays have you feeling nostalgic and well… you forgot to check the guest list for the Sanctum's killer party. Isn't it always the way? That your exes creep back into your life just as you've begun to forget about them? Well Loki's no different- just more handsome. Hooking up with Loki after he ditched you without a word is a terrible idea... Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the way Avengers parties always seem to get so messy, or maybe it's the unresolved feelings that you're trying to ignore, but you find yourself in the mood to make some bad decisions before the year is done.

Author's notes: These one-shots are meant to celebrate frequently used story tropes. Please feel free to comment with your favorite fanfic clichés, and I'll add them to the list.

Pairing: Loki (Marvel) x Female Reader

Content Warning: 18+ smut ahead (Reader is of age). Not a condom in sight.

Word Count: 3,288

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

"'I wouldn’t blame you,' he said, catching your gaze and holding it. Soft curls fell over his forehead and down his cheek, framing his intense expression, 'People I’ve hurt have done worse for less.'"

“Hi,” was all he said. 

You hated that all it took was that one stupid, short word from his satisfied, smirking lips for you to forget all of your better instincts. 

Of course Loki was here. It had been years of careful avoidance and you’d finally managed to all but forget the taste of him. And isn’t that always how it went? Without fail exes always came crawling back as soon as you found a moment of peace. And your idiotically blissed out brain hadn’t even thought to wonder if he’d been extended an invite. But of course. If Thor was there, he was there. They were a bit of a package deal these days.

Loki leaned against the bar, his white dress shirt unbuttoned to almost his navel. His black velvet suit jacket was still on, but open. If you knew him, he’d be losing it soon enough. He never left a party with the same outfit he’d arrived with. His clean-shaven chest was draped in 3 slim chains that you were sure he just couldn’t help himself from wearing. 

You glanced around, looking for backup. A way out. An excuse to leave. Maria, Wanda, Steven -all right there moments ago but now… miraculously elsewhere. So you took a deep breath and sighed, resigned,

“Hi,” was all you said

His emerald eyes caught in the disco ball gleam of the tinsel streamers hanging from every corner of the room. Everything shimmered green and gold for a moment and it made your breath catch. 

“You’re not surprised to see me are you?”

“I guess I shouldn’t be,” he was never where you needed him to be. That had been the main problem. Only showing up when it convenienced him. You gestured at his rather peacockish appearance, “Seems like you haven’t changed at all Loki.”

“It’s only been several years,” he conceded.

“Many several,” you retorted.

He had just disappeared one day, to Asgard presumably, then turned up back on Earth with a shipload of refugees and nothing even resembling so much as a phone call. You’d taken it personally at first. Deeply personally. After all, you’d thought he was dead, until one day he was nt. One day he was just there, and apparently he hadn’t even thought of you at all. 

And then you talked to Thor. And apparently that was his brother’s M.O. A pattern of behavior that you’d wanted to ignore. A series of red flags that had been covered up by all of the green that blinded you. And when that truth hit you. That he would rather die than make a tough exit. That you were just some play thing in a series of playthings, and well… you killed him again. You killed him in your heart and in your head and you vowed to never look back. He was in New Asgard and you were in New York. And Paris. And Sydney, and Tokyo and Seoul… you made sure that you were anywhere but Norway. And you left a wake of broken hearts in your path as well. Just to get the tase of him out of your mouth. It had worked too. You were a new person. More confident, self assured and successful. More self-aware. More evolved. 

“Scotch on the rocks and a mezcal negroni,” he said to the bartender, placing a generous tip in the collection, “That is… if it’s still your drink of choice?”

Maybe you hadn’t changed that much. 

“You’ve got me,” you replied, glancing casually to the low-cut neck of your dress, making sure everything was in its proper place. 

“You look ravishing in this,” Loki brushed the tips of his fingers down swell of your hips, ostensibly feeling the soft satin weave. Forward as always.

You rolled your eyes at him, but your lips couldn’t help but curling. Why was his flattery so goddamn effective? You’d infiltrated countless organizations and done more to keep international peace than the UN but something about this would-be king made you abandon all good reason.

You clenched your fists around your purse, composed yourself, and managed a stern glare, not your best, but it was something, “Flattery will get you nowhere a phone call couldn’t.”

The bartender placed two drinks on the counter. Instead of reaching for his scotch, Loki instead took your jewel-red cocktail in his long fingers (covered in thin bands of gold, of course. Garish but appealing) and took a sip.

The look you gave him was one of amusement and half-shock. 

“I had almost forgotten the taste,” he purred, “Still bitter, I see.”

“And why shouldn’t I be bitter?”

He handed you your glass and picked up his own, but you grabbed his scotch before it could reach his lips, taking a swig and making a show of twisting your face. 

“Still stringently unpleasant and leaves a sour taste in your mouth,” pettiness overtaking you completely. 

You turned away from him, ready to down your drink. Then three others. Then, ideally, to take home some fresh young sorcerer before the ball even dropped. Someone blonde or dark skinned or round. Someone the exact opposite of the long, raven haired prince. Someone to to help you put Loki firmly behind you once and for all. 

But he had other plans, and his hands were once again on your waist, catching on the fabric of your dress and pulling you back towards him.

“One dance? For old time’s sake? One dance before we put this year to bed?” His lips were at your ear and the heat of his breath sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. A more naive you would have thought that the power he had over you was magic. But the self aware version of you knew that he was just your weakness. Loki of Asgard was just your type - tall, lean, dark haired and intelligent - but he was as if your type were turned up to a million. He was as if he were the prototype that all other similar men had been based on but could never quite measure up to. 

“One dance,” you acquiesced, your body relaxing ever so slightly. You knew that this one slip in your defenses could snowball into letting Loki snake his way back into your life. It was inadvisable in every way, but the shape of his body felt so familiar, and New Years Eve had a way of making you feel nostalgic.

“I promise it’ll be fun,” he said, and he spun you around, twirling your hand in his, making the hem of your dress rise dangerously high. You didn’t doubt that it would be fun. Fun had never been the issue with him. The issue had been his ability to make you fall apart completely and never show remorse. The issue at hand was that out of the myriad ways you knew you could be destroyed, letting Loki break your heart once more sounded like the most delicious. 

But the drink was settling in you now, making you feel loose, and pliant, and it wouldn’t be long until the champagne came out. Your preservation instincts were quickly being overcome by your body’s need for pleasure. So you spun, and you swayed and you moved with the music, Loki’s hands on your hips, and then your arms, and then entwined on your fingers. 

The colors in the room blurred in rhythm to the music and you found that you could still taste the last time your limbs had been entangled with his. It tasted like the pine of his cologne on clean skin. It tasted like worn sheets clenched between your teeth. It tasted like you, still sticky on his lips. 

The DJ that Wong had hired was good. Songs seamlessly blended together, hit after hit, and soon enough, what would have passed for one dance turned into two, turned into three, and then you were handed a bottle of Veuve and then time didn’t matter. It was just your hips following his until you were dizzy and breathless. 

Loki spun you into a corner. Thank god these old New York buildings came well appointed with nooks and crannies. There were eyes on you, you were sure. Thor must have had thoughts, as did everyone else with a shoulder you’d cried on. A large portion of the party’s attendees you figured. You didn’t relish the thought of them knowing how little it took to get you back into those lean, muscular arms. 

Loki grabbed the bottle, exposed chest heaving from exertion. He’d lost his jacket at some point, as you’d predicted, and he’d undone another shirt button or two. You followed the line of exposed skin from the waist of his slim cut pants, over his navel and the peaks of his abs and to the bobbing apple of his gold-draped neck. His chin was up, exposing all that tender, vulnerable flesh. In your pettier moments you’d dreamed of taking a knife to that perfect, pale skin just to relish him bleeding out. Instead you put your hands around his neck, enjoying the heat of his pulse beneath your fingers, and the ridges of his throat against your thumbs. 

Part of you itched to squeeze. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Show him how hard it was to breathe in the weeks, months, years after he left without a word. 

He stepped closer, cornering you completely against some mystical curio cabinet. He wrapped his arms around your body and rested the chilled bottle of champagne against the base of your spine. It sent a shiver of pleasure through your over-heated nerves. 

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he said, catching your gaze and holding it. Soft curls fell over his forehead and down his cheek, framing his intense expression, “People I’ve hurt have done worse for less.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was an admission of guilt. It was something.

A conscience. That was new. 

You did squeeze, slightly, and you pulled too. You pulled him towards you, his lips to yours and you kissed him, gently, questioningly, asking yourself for permission to enjoy, consequences be damned. 

The consequences were immediate. He kissed you back hard, pressing his still heaving chest against yours, pushing your sticky skin into the glass of the cabinet and the bottle into your back. 

Loki’s kiss didn’t ask questions. Loki’s kiss was hungry. Loki’s kiss devoured. Loki’s kiss told the story of a man who’s appetite had not be satiated. It was a kiss that wanted more, and it was the kind of kiss that you could not get enough of. 

When he finally pulled away, your mouth was still parted and all good sense had left through the eager opening. 

“You lips are just as lovely as I remembered,” you could feel the sinews of his throat stretch and flex under your grip, still sticky and hot around his throat, “Please tell me that your cunt tastes just as sweet?”

And that was when you fell apart - your resolve evaporated completely and every lesson you’d learned about this man’s effect on your well being fell by the wayside. You were completely at his mercy once again.

“I know a place,” Loki said, and he led you away from the party. You kept your eyes on the width of his back, not daring to glance at the rest of the party. Shame and excitement churned in your belly and rose to your cheeks, adding to the champagne glow. 

Loki’s long fingers pressed on an ancient door, it’s creaking muffled by the churning bass of the music, and you found yourself in a long, dark corridor full of portraits of sorcerers illuminated by the moon filtering through old multi-paned windows. He locked the door behind you and pressed you up against it, his skin catching the lunar glow and making him look more godlike than ever. 

He kissed across your clavicle as he ran his fingers tenderly over your breasts and down your body. His delicate touch glided over the soft silk of your dress and you whimpered slightly as his thumbs passed over your nipples and the heat of his breath warmed your throat. 

Your throat that was once covered in marks he’d made.

Your throat that once caught on sobs of pain when he was gone.

His hands passed your hem, his fingertips still light of touch, but they pressed firmly into your skin as they moved back up your body, underneath your dress this time, caressing your thighs and hips as he reached around and grabbed the soft ample cheeks of your ass.

Loki growled a deep laugh into your breasts.

“You never were one for underwear,” he dug his fingers into flesh, hungry, “Fuuuuuck,” he growled, “I missed these games.”

You did too. You missed removing your underwear clandestinely in mission debriefings. You missed slipping pieces of lace and cotton into his pocket when passing in the halls. You missed waiting for him to come sniff you out and take his prize. Sometimes it took hours, and you missed the anticipation. You missed growing wet with wanting. You missed being soaked to dripping by the time he found you.

You were almost as wet now. Loki slipped two long fingers between your thighs to feel it, groaning with delight when he was not disappointed.

He pushed up the skirt of your dress, your slick on his fingers folding into the satin creases. He wasted no time kneeling before you. He took one leg and put it over his shoulder, resting your thigh against his neck and the hungry hollow of his cheek. 

Loki looked up at you one last time. His eyes were wide with adoration. His lips were parted with thirst. Your leg lifted slightly with his every bated breath. It was a look of pure hopeless longing. It was a look that had the power to destroy civilizations. It was a look that probably had. 

And then he dove into you.

His tongue licked between your folds, lapping up your nectar and moaning with hungry satisfaction into hollow of your body. You bit back whimpers, not trusting the throng of the music on the other side of the door to hide the evidence of your poor decisions.

You remembered every filthy word he’d whispered into you between your legs. Every time that he’d promised, heavy lidded and laden with lust “I will ruin you with pleasure. I will ruin you and your perfect, aching cunt.”

You tried not to think about how those words made themselves very nearly true. 

He sucked on your clit while he flicked the tip of his tongue across the ever growing sensitivity. He built pressure there, circling your need harder, building it up and up and up and up…

Until he broke, gasping for air and making you squeal a desperate moan.

Loki bit at your swollen labia before dipping his tongue deep in your wanting void, burring his face in you, letting himself get messy with you he lapped you up.

It was too much. It was not enough. You wanted to push him away. You wanted to pull him closer.

He replaced his tongue with two reaching fingers that pulled at you, bringing your whining, insatiable lust toward him until it broke. Until you broke. Until you broke into a million pieces and every cell burst with elation like champagne pouring into your core and filling you up with sparkling, delightful undoing. 

He’d learned so much about your body, and in the meantime he hadn’t forgotten it. He’d put it to good use. 

Your hands were desperately grasping at the doorframe, your nails digging into ancient wood when your knees gave out and your legs failed you. Loki caught you before you slid, wrapping your legs around his waist. His tight pants bulged with yearning. It pressed against your exposed cunt. 

“Set me free, love,” he begged, his hands around your waist, and his breath, still hot with your scent. And you wished, wished so hard that he loved you, like you, after all this time still undeniably loved him. But love was a matter for another day. All that mattered now was his need, and what he needed was you you. By the ragged sound of his voice, he needed you desperately. And that was enough for now. 

You loosened his black leather belt and unbuttoned his pants, grasping hungrily at the pull of his zipper until his hardened cock twitched free. You stifled an exasperated laugh when his glossy tip became readily exposed, “Slut,” you joked. He too had foregone underwear. 

“I learned from the best,” Loki slid into you easily, pressing you up against the door causing it to rattle. 

You prayed that the hinges of the Sanctum were made of stronger stuff than your resolve to stay away from Loki Laufeyson. 

He pushed, and pressed, and thrust into you, exploring you with the length of his cock with every shaking exertion. You could taste yourself on his lips and he was right, you did still taste sweet. You hoped that he understood how sweet you really were. You squeezed yourself around him every time he pulled out of you, and you relaxed, welcoming him in every time he encroached. 

“TEN!” You heard the crowd from the other side of the door.

“NINE!” The moans he let loose every time you tightened around him should be bottled and sold like a drug.

“EIGHT!” His fingers gripped at you, drawing greedy lines of red along your sides and back. 

“SEVEN!” His mouth was on your neck now, biting and sucking and making marks you knew you’d see in the morning.

“SIX!” Marks you could not erase by any method but time. Marks that would serve as a reminder of this dalliance.

“FIVE!” Marks that made you his. Over and over again, he claimed your body with each one. 

“FOUR!” Your hands were in his hair, fistfuls of black ink.

“THREE!” Your toes tensed and your abs flexed, bracing against every impact, so certain of the impending fall.

“TWO!” Your thighs gripped him, pulling him in even closer, his breath catching on every ragged inhale.

“ONE!” Fireworks erupted. Fireworks in your veins, Fireworks on his skin. Fireworks outside the window showering you in a green and gold and red and blue glow.

He let loose, growling into your moaning mouth. Your euphoric muscles clenching his length, coaxing it into spilling everything he had into you.

Your breath was still in synch. There were horns and party whistles and the melancholy chords of “Auld Lang Syne” on the other side of the door, but all you could register was the beating thrum of your heartbeat slowly calming to a reasonable tempo.

Loki kissed you again, this time with a lingering sweetness. This was the kind of kiss you missed the most. The truly intimate kisses. It made your heart ache anew, your nerves now satisfied of its overwhelming lust, leaving room for agony once more.

He wiped your hair away from your sticky forehead and he pressed his temple against yours. 

“Happy New Year,” and he whispered your name into your ear causing you to grasp at his shirt in yearning and frustration. There was a time when all you wanted was your taste and your name on his lips. You’d thought that time had passed.

You were wrong.

“I missed you,” he said, his eyelashes brushing your still sensitive skin. 

“I know,” you said. And you checked on your body, noting every place that felt sore, and every place that felt raw, and every place that felt renewed and you realized that he meant it. 

If you liked this, please find me on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44328766

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki odinson #loki laufeyson x reader smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #no y/n #marvel cinematic universe #thor movies #loki odinson x reader smut #avengers fanfiction

[lady-rose-moon]

I have you || Chapter 2 || 18+ ||

A/N: well, shall we just dive right in?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, romantic smut

Chapter One | Masterlist | Chapter Three |

Days passed and slowly, Loki was settling into his place on the Hliðskjálf in Odin’s place. He had talked with the dwarves of Nidavellir and, though begrudgingly, they had agreed to assist Asgard in a war against Jötunheim if it came to that.

On a peaceful Friday morning, Loki was sitting on his balcony overlooking all of Asgard and when he looked down over the railing, he saw that many houses and grand buildings no longer held Odin’s sigil, they held his. The symbol of Loki. A farce. He was not an Odinson, not a legitimate King but they didn’t know that. They only knew him as Loki Odinson and that is how it shall stay until Thor returns and Loki can step down from the throne. 

Joining him at his side, you looked over the golden city with a happy smile on your face. You held Loki’s hand and rested your head on his shoulder. “We have news from Lady Eir,” you whispered, frowning when Loki tensed up with anticipation, “Odin seems to be slipping into a normal Odinsleep now. He should still remain asleep for at least a decade, but Frigga has every faith that you can hold the fort until the King does wake up.”

“And what of Thor?” Loki asked, “has Serenity spoken to you about anything different with my brother?” 

“He’s…managing.” you replied and Loki scowled, knowing how Thor could possibly be reacting to becoming a simple mortal now, “he has made a few allies, Erik Selvig, Darcy Lewis and Doctor Jane Foster. He seems to be taking a liking to the doctor, but she does not appreciate how ill-mannered he is.” 

Loki snorted and looked to the blue of the sky with a smirk, “no, Thor has never been one for politeness on Midgard. When we went down in the 18th Century, we barely made it out alive.”

“That is the problem with Thor, he doesn’t learn other world’s customs. He only assumes they are the same as Asgard’s and is really cocky when he is corrected, that is probably why Odin sent him down there, to teach him manners.” As you were speaking, Loki observed his soulmate’s face and grinned, he had never been agreed with before. You were the first one in millennia that saw him for him and that also agreed with how he saw Thor, it was overwhelming sometimes. 

Loki led you down to the private gardens reserved only for Queen Frigga and Loki; it had not been used in ages since Queen Frigga had been planning Thor’s coronation and then had been by Odin’s side after he fell into the Odinsleep. Sitting down in the long grass, Loki admired his soulmate and how beautiful you had become over the last century. You had grown into yourself, had become more powerful and much more knowledgeable about the world around you. You were a bright girl and challenged Loki in everything he knew from magic to simple tasks such as riding a horse. 

As you sat down, Loki helped you by gently holding your hand and smiling at you and when you were comfortable, he conjured up a picnic blanket and basket, snorting when you slapped him on the arm, “you couldn’t have conjured that blanket up before?!” 

With a shrug, Loki opened the picnic basket and started to eat a sandwich while watching you, “I wanted a reaction and I got it.” He finished his sandwich and barely swallowed it when you growled and pushed him down onto the blanket, holding his tunic in your hand.

“You really are a trickster, my King, why do I trust you so?” you whispered and Loki chuckled before leaning up and his hand found your cheek.

“Because you are mine as I am yours, I’d never lie to you, sweet girl,” Loki mumbled, staring deep into your eyes and he noted with a fond look that they seemed to glow with love and pride when he announced his love to you.

You hummed and quickly leaned down, kissing him deeply, feeling him groan and kiss back as you grinned into the kiss, cupping his cheek and pushing yourself against him. 

You gasped as he pulled back to nip at your ear, his hands tenderly brushing down your sides as he rolled his hips against yours, his soft pants blowing against your face as you took him in with a bright smile. He already looked so much better like this, so free from his duties as he kissed you and lifted your clothes from your body.

You moaned as your dress was thrown to some forgotten spot, his lips coming in contact with the softness of your breasts, kissing and suckling on your nipples, enjoying the sight of you writhing and moaning beneath him. The God bit your nipple gently, earning a desperate moan from your mouth as he smirked.

"You look so stunning, my love," he whispered, admiration clear in his tone as he stared down at your body on the picnic blanket, "the only snack I could possibly need."

You smirked and spread your legs, your arms reaching up and folding beneath your head as you displayed yourself for him, "so, explore me, my King."

"Oh, darling," he growled, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin with a grin on his face that set a fire roaring in your core, "I intend to."

You released a surprised cry when Loki's mouth descended on your aching cunt and you groaned as you held his slicked-back hair, your head pressing into the blanket as you moaned, your eyebrows scrunched in the perfect portrait of pleasure. Loki watched your reactions with a grin before focusing on your clit and bringing you pleasure. He flicked your clit with his tongue as two of his fingers slipped into your awaiting heat and he chuckled when you hissed and your back arched.

Your King knew his way around you, knew just how to make you cum with such grace.

Electric rose through your body and your eyes rolled as you hummed with pleasure, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rode his face through your orgasm. Smiling shyly at him, you rested against the mattress and sighed happily.

"I missed you," you whispered and Loki smiled as he pulled away from your sensitive cunt to press a kiss to your lips. You moaned at the taste of your cunt on his tongue as he kissed you and you pushed your hips against his with a whine.

Laughing, Loki knew what you wanted and he finally threw away his pants to show you his straining cock and your mouth watered at the sight. Meeting your eyes, the God raised an eyebrow with a small smile of concern, "are you sure that you want this? We could always stop, darling."

You shook your head quickly and reached up to cup his cheek, "no, Loki, I want you. I want you so bad. You ruined me for all men!"

Loki smirked at that and lined his cock up with your entrance before slowly pushing in and moaning at the feeling of your tight cunt gripping him tightly. "Oh Norns, you feel amazing," Loki whispered, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he bottomed out and he bit into your neck as he started to thrust shallowly into you.

Keenly, you wrapped your legs around his hips and released a deep moan as you felt him sink deeper into you. Holding him close to you, you felt him start to thrust harder into you and you moaned as your fingers found his blonde curls again, "Loki! Oh, L-Loki!"

Smirking, Loki continued to make love to you and he pulled away from your neck to sit up on his knees. He pulled one of your legs up to wrap over his shoulder and you screamed with pleasure as he increased the pace of his thrusts. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you forever, no memory of the throne, no memory of his responsibility, just you and him forever combined in the dramatic throes of pleasure.

You moaned loudly, your hand rising up to cup your mouth but the God swatted it away before you could even think.

Loki leaned over you as he felt his release getting near, his brows rising as he chased his pleasure, his thrusts becoming harder and more calculated as he repeatedly struck the spot inside you that brought you to the stars and he watched as you screamed and fell apart on his cock, his orgasm hitting him only seconds later.

"Norns, pet," the God sighed, cupping your cheek and smiling at you, "I love you."

You smiled tiredly and kissed his cheek before whispering, "I love you too, Loki."

After a while, you sat back up and took out a bottle of wine, pouring it into two glasses, “it’s been matured for 10 years, the finest of Alfheim according to their Princess.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of Alfheim, to be fair, they always come out with the best of everything and I always find myself so impressed,” Loki hummed, leaning into the blanket as you laid your head on his chest and used your seiðr to be able to drink on a side without the wine spilling. 

The two spent hours in the garden together before a guard came over to Loki and informed him of Thor’s imprisonment by S.H.I.E.L.D and Loki almost raged. How dare they lock away his brother! But then he stopped and realised that he could visit him, no one else could but him so he did. He stood in front of the Hliðskjálf and projected himself to the S.H.I.E.L.D base around Mjolnir and watched as the man left Thor alone and only then, did he become visible.

“Thor,” Loki spoke first, watching Thor’s head snap up immediately and he almost smiled at him before realising his mission.

“Loki,” Thor greeted, recognition gleaming in his eyes as he looked at his brother with slight relief, “what are you doing here? Is something happening on Asgard? Is mother alright” 

“Mother is well, brother, but father is not. He has fallen into the Odinsleep and mother fears he will ne’er wake again. Lady Eir is trying her best but he has been holding this off for so long that…” Loki trailed off, knowing that Thor got the memo. 

“And has mother taken his place?” Thor questioned even though he knew the answer already.

Loki sighed and walked closer to Thor, conjuring a wet cloth to wipe away the blood and grime from his elder brother’s face, “the burden of the throne has fallen on my shoulders, Thor, it was very last second and not many agree I deserve it but I am trying. I am trying to rule as father does, but Lady Sif and the Warriors do not trust.”

“That’s absurd, Loki, they are your friends, they trust you!” Thor shot back quickly, and Loki flinched, hoping Thor didn’t see but he knew that he did.

“They were never my friends, Thor, they only stayed around me because I was your brother. If you had gone away, they would’ve gone with you and not stayed with me. That’s how it’s been for millennia,” Loki replied quietly and observed his brother, finishing his task of cleaning the wounds and mud.

Thor gave pause and analysed every interaction between Loki and his friends, and he realised that they had really only tolerated him because of Thor. Thor shook his head and got on his knees before Loki and wrapped his arms around him, hiding his face in his neck and heaving out a sob, “forgive me, lillebroren min. I have been a terrible brother and I could never atone for it! For what it’s worth… you’d be a great King, Loki, better than me by far.” 

“Do not say such things, Thor, you are to be crowned and not me. You prepared all your life and I only learnt diplomacy through books,” Loki mumbled, still shocked from the contact of the hug and he fought back tears. 

Thor chuckled sadly and shook his head, embracing Loki tighter and sniffling, “no, Loki, I never listened in my lessons with father. The only lessons I listened to were the ways to use Mjolnir and how to use the Bifrost, anything else was lost to me. You would be a much better King, Loki.” 

“You cannot come home, Thor. No matter your sugar-coating, your banishment will keep the peace between Laufey and Asgard long enough for us to come to an agreement.” Loki mumbled, thinking that that is the only reason why Thor is now considering him as his little brother after three centuries of feeling detached from that connection. 

“Then please forgive me for my actions, brother, you have saved me from a dark spot more than once and I have disregarded you time after time,” Thor mumbled and Loki froze, not knowing how to process his words, “please do not self-destruct when I am here. I will come home, and you will be my equal, when I am worthy.”

Loki chuckled softly and kissed his forehead before getting up and heading to the other end of the interrogation room, “I shall send General Tyr to collect you if things should go south.” 

“Dear brother, I will always respect you. Sister, brother, neither, you are Loki, my sibling.” 

Loki nodded and waved goodbye to his brother before he disappeared and reappeared outside beside Mjolnir, it hummed and he reached out a hand to grasp the handle so when he did so and tugged, he wasn’t surprised to find that the hammer would not be lifted by him. Of course, Odin hated him with a passion. A Jötun could never wield Mjolnir, not even the false Prince of Asgard. 

Sighing, Loki reappeared in the throne room and you looked up from your book on Hliðskjálf, smiling at him before realising he was crying and you rushed over to him, “dear Prince, what happened on your visit to Thor? Did he threaten you? Must I go down to Earth and split his skull?” 

Loki laughed breathily and held his soulmate close to him, running his fingers through your hair, “’twas not my brother's fault I’m crying, he just made me so very happy. He still accepts me after all these years of him wanting me to know my place. ‘twas just an adjustment, that’s all.” 

You laughed softly and tenderly held his cheek, pulling his face down so you could see into his eyes, “even after all these years, you still fascinate me. With your magic, with your being, it’s incredible! You’re king and yet you took the time to visit your brother even if it meant facing Odin’s wrath!”

Loki chuckled and held his soulmate close to him as he gazed down into your eyes with such adoration that you were sure that he would drop dead before ever seeing them brimming with pain or heartbreak. You knew deep down that the person Loki seemed to be to everyone else was merely a shield so that none could see the sensitive boy underneath. 

“Odin has no claim of what I do, darling, he is in Odinsleep and I am King. Not only that but I am also not his son. Lest you forget that little fact,” Loki hummed as he swayed his beloved and enjoyed the ambiance of the fire crackling in the torches around the room. 

You sighed and looked up at Loki, holding his chin to bring him down so he can look at you properly rather than staring at your hair, “yes, your real father is King Laufey of Jötunheim but what of it? Jötunheim was once a contestant for beauty with Asgard. Come, I shall show you.” With that, you led Loki out of the doors to the throne room and through a quick trip with the Bifrost, guided him into your private study in your castle, “mother gave me access to all these documents after her death. All of the history is within these tombs.” 

Glancing around the room, Loki was thrilled to finally have new things to learn and when he walked over to a bookcase and opened one of the seemingly new tombs, he found the language inside to be written in Ancient Moonish. His mother had taught him the language with Thor but neither of the boys had truly listened to the old language, “the tales of Yvelda and Nine. What an absurd name for a book. What is it about, my darling?”

Giggling, you stepped up and pointed to a portrait of a woman dressed in a simple gown with an emerald ring on her finger staring them down from her place above the bookshelf, “that is our great-great-grandmother Yvelda. She was Queen of the Moon while Jötunheim was still a prospering society. She wrote this book to celebrate the life of the Nine after a threat to the Yggdrasil was vanquished. She wrote about all of the Nine in a lot of detail but her chapters on Jötunheim and Asgard are by far the longest. Her studies of the two realms consumed most of her time and once our great-grandmother Serina was born, she set about making her second journal. She adapted the Moonish language into that of a language similar to Alfheim.”

Loki listened attentively and nodded his understanding before chuckling, “you have a grand history, my love.”

“It is not the reason I brought you here, the history of Jötunheim is hidden in these books as well. Laufey’s father entrusted Serina with many of their tombs to keep them safe.” you explained and for once, Loki felt admiration for a Jötun. He had not once considered such a thing but now that he saw it, he felt compelled to read every single thing in this room.

Once safely back on Asgard, Loki sighed and sat back in his chambers and thought everything over. Had he been too quick to judge Laufey and his troops? Did Laufey miss his child? Would Laufey want him back when he realised who he was? Would Laufey call out treachery and have Loki executed for betraying Jötnar customs? Loki was terrified. Why couldn’t things be simple?

Another few days passed and after a rather trying talk with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three about rescuing Thor, Loki slumped down onto her bed and cuddled up to her lover. She was fed up with all this trouble, she didn’t want to be King anymore. It took too much time away from you and your perfection, your love, how could Loki live without it?  

She knew that the Warriors intended to betray her and honestly? She expected it. She just didn’t know if they would try to twist the truth so Thor would be on their side and not Loki’s. After her talk with Thor, Loki felt much more accepted and loved than she had felt since he became self-aware many centuries ago. She had once had a time where she was presenting as a female and Odin had cut off her long hair and burned it in her fireplace to keep her aware that she was always meant to be Loki prince of Asgard. Never Princess. Always Prince. Thor had accepted her, even then, changing his pronouns constantly by even looking at Loki for even a brief moment.

Thor’s banishment had changed a lot for the young princess, now that she thought of it. She had instantly taken his place as first in line for the throne and perhaps twenty minutes later, she found out that she was Jötun and after that, Odin had sunken into the deepest Odinsleep so now she was King. Queen Loki Odindottir. It sounded perfect, a name she had always told herself would happen one day. Either for her on Asgard or side by side with her beloved on the Moon. Still, one day she believed herself worthy to sit on a throne. Now, Princess Loki Laufeydottir? Out of the question. She would not accept such a horrendous name. She was not Jötnar, she was Aesir and she would be Queen. She had to be. 

“I said this once before, Loki, do not let those thoughts consume you,” Loki flinched in surprise and when she turned, she saw you standing at the foot of the bed with a frown on your face, “your thoughts are dangerous when left to fester.” 

Loki chuckled and rested her head on her arms, gazing up at her beloved from the angle on the bed, “hello to you too, beloved.” 

You sighed and sat on the bed beside Loki, taking one of her hands and kissing the black nails there, “tell me what you think so deeply of, my love, share your pain with me.” 

And so, Loki spoke. She spoke of her troubles, her fears, her insecurities and expressed her concern for Thor on Midgard. She told you everything that had happened on Jötunheim with such detail, you might as well have been there. 

The night consisted of tears, hugs and many reassuring hugs between the both of them as they reconnected after so long of Loki filling herself with her hatred and remorse. She did not know why she had bottled this all up, but you were there for her anyway. You did not mind. 

That night, Loki guided you into the bedroom and laid you down on the blankets, watching as your eyes flooded with love and understanding. You smiled as Loki cradled your cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, her body pressing against your own as you both sighed happily at the contact.

"Let me show you just how well I can pleasure you," Loki whispered, nipping at your ear and pulling away with a satisfied smirk.

You nodded eagerly and in the next moment, her deft fingers slid into your awaiting heat and curled just right to hit that good spot inside you that her cock constantly found. You swore and rolled your head back in bliss, unable to fight against the demands of your body.

Loki mouthed at your nipple as her thumb connected to your clit and began circling it in calculated motions that brought you the utmost pleasure. As the Queen of Asgard continued to smother you, you felt as if you were floating, your legs wrapped around her hourglass waist and your eyes bravely attempting to keep contact with her own beautiful emerald eyes.

You reached forward and cupped Loki's breast, squeezing gently and smiling as she gasped. The woman had long since ceased producing milk after the loss of her son but you remembered the days when you would sit, fascinated by the art of breastfeeding though you loathed to admit it.

The electric pulse that shot through you took you by surprise and you stared at your Queen in shock, a loud moan escaping your mouth as you rolled your head back. "Loki," you sighed peacefully, rolling your hips so that her fingers would cause more friction inside you, "let me cum."

Loki hummed and leaned down to kiss you, the pace of her thrusting fingers increasing and her magic providing you with another electric pulse, bringing you closer to your orgasm. "Let me see you cum," she commanded, her lips ghosting against the skin of your cheek, "I need to see you fall apart for your Queen."

You moaned loudly as your orgasm hit. You swore to the Norns that you were ruined, that Loki could never be replaced. You never wanted anyone else but Loki, your sweet, handsome, protective Loki!

Panting heavily, you pulled Loki down into a gentle kiss and whined as her fingers pulled out of you. Loki shushed you gently, turning you onto your side and cuddling you as she whispered sweet nothings to you until the Realm of sleep took you back.

In the afternoon of the next day, Loki stood on the balcony and watched as the Bifrost was opened despite his clear demand to Heimdall and he turned on his heel and stormed down to the vaults, Gungnir tight in his grasp, his cloak billowing out behind him and he nodded at all those who stopped to bow and show appreciation. He was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry. Many knew that. 

Walking down the hall of the vault, Loki forced himself not to think of the horror that had occurred here between Odin and himself. He stood before the pedestal that once held the Casket and banged Gungnir on the floor. The sound echoed around the room and then, the barrier at the back opened up to reveal the Destroyer. When the monster stood forward, he glared up at it and smirked, “see to it that the Warriors Four do not make it back. Do not harm Prince Thor.” 

With a nod, the Destroyer disappeared, Loki felt weak. Although he had given the direct order, he was petrified that the destroyer would in some way harm Thor while doing its duty. 

Loki now shook his head and walked away from the chamber, heading up to the meeting floor. Marching inside, the participants instantly shut up and turned to face their King. Sitting at the head of the table, Loki allowed to give off an air of relaxation to keep peace between his council.

“How does Jötunheim fare?” Loki asked after moments of silence, irritation clear in his voice. He worried about Laufey, he was a calculating man, he might figure out his secret and then he would have no leverage.

“They are… how do you say? Calculating?” Vor replied and Loki nodded, pressing on the God of Wisdom. “My King, they seem to be arranging for the return of a lost Prince. They talk of Loptr, their infant heir that was supposed to die. Laufey is very stressed as he plans.” 

Loki nodded in understanding and looked over to General Tyr with a raised eyebrow, “how fares the army?”

Tyr looked over to Loki and placed his hand over his heart as he gazed down at the table beneath Loki’s painted fingers, “The armies are ready on your command, my King, should Laufey invade or make an attempt on your life, the Einherjar will be there to save you.”

Loki nodded and then turned to Lord Magni, God of Strength and for him, he produced a golden sword and held it out. Lord Magni took the blade effortlessly and looked at Loki in confusion and the young King only spoke, “you shall need it, leading the charge.” 

“And what of Prince Thor, King Loki?” A voice from down the table and when heads turned, Loki gazed down at Serenity. Her hair was pulled back into braids that broke away into a high ponytail, her dress was a simple gold with white stars expertly placed around the gown. She looked like the picture of a Goddess. 

“Goddess of Earth. We are glad that you visit our table this day,” Loki greeted and stood to bow to his friend. He had known Serenity as long as he had known you and he was glad to call her a friend. Again, he met her eyes and smiled, “Prince Thor is in your care still, my lady, he shall not be allowed back until the terms of his banishment have been met.”

Serenity nodded and out of her hands came an illusion of Thor with two women and an older-looking fellow, “the Prince has made friends, he settles quite quickly into Midgardian life. He is in pain, though, and he wishes to be home. He has not been away from you this long before, my King. He suffers.” 

Loki nodded in understanding and held back his tears as he looked at the illusion before wafting it away and looking at Serenity, “you are Queen and protector of Midgard and those that live there. I know you shall protect my brother for King Odin’s sake and his own. Please, he is still my brother.”

Serenity nodded and lent back in her seat, satisfied. Loki sighed in relief and returned to the meeting.

Hours later, the meeting ended on notes of War and moves against Laufey and his Jötnar. Loki was about to head up to bed when a gentle hand took his shoulder and when he turned, he saw Serenity smiling up at him, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this, my Queen?” 

“I wish to walk with the King of Asgard for a while, ‘tis all.” Serenity smiled and Loki nodded, offering her his arm before walking down the golden halls with her. They passed a portrait of Loki with her and you and when Serenity stopped, Loki did too. “Do you remember this?”

“I do,” Loki replied, looking up at your happy smile and he found himself smiling back, “it was the day that I came back from one of my trips to Vanaheim. Y/N had missed me so much and she demanded she had a memorial of me when I disappeared. We had this done in her honour. My dear girl.”

Serenity watched Loki with a careful glare, her brow raised curiously before she pointed a dagger at his throat and she smirked when Loki didn’t even gulp, “you hurt her and I kill you, Odinson. There won’t be a realm outside or on the Yggdrasil that you can hide. She is my everything. Hurt her and I kill you, I promise.”

“Please do. If I betray her, you may kill me.” Loki smiled at Serenity and shook his head fondly before kissing her forehead and stepping away from the dagger, "god natt, lillesøster.” 

Serenity watched him walk away and sighed deeply, she saw the tensions in his eyes just as you did. She saw just how much pain he was in even when trying to joke it off. She loved Loki as a brother, saw him go through the same things as you did. She protected his son for him, even though he had no idea. She would do it again and again. You were happy with him and Serenity wanted that happiness to last so she would keep protecting them. She just needed to make sure Odin didn’t interrupt this time.

That night was difficult for Loki; plagued with nightmares and knowing she couldn’t sleep any longer, she got up and changed into a nightdress, heading into her private library just down the corridor. When she walked in, she saw Frigga sat there with a book in her hand and Loki froze in place for a moment before speaking up, “mother?” 

“My daughter, you came.” Frigga mumbled, holding her hand out for Loki to take and when he did, she pulled her down into a hug and cherished this moment with her. 

“Mother, why are you here so late at night? Why are you away from Odin?” Loki asked, sitting beside her mother and frowning. 

Frigga heaved a sigh and held Loki’s hand tight in her grip, “I think you should visit Jötunheim.” 

Silence. Ringing silence. No one said anything for a long while. Loki stared at Frigga in surprise before schooling her features and glaring. “Why?”

“Because you are Laufey’s child…” Frigga mumbled and her thumb stroked over Loki’s silky hands gently, “because I know that deep down, Laufey misses his first born so much. You know it too.”

“I am King, mother. I cannot simply just up and leave to Jötunheim at full haste.” Loki snapped and Frigga nodded with understanding before Loki sighed, “when father wakes and is ready to take Hliðskjálf back, I shall take Y/N and we shall venture into Jötunheim.”  

Frigga nodded again and pulled Loki into a tight hug, kissing her hair and running her nails through the long ebony locks, “you’ve grown from this, Loki. You’re no longer the shadow. When people talk of you, they will talk of how you saved Asgard from war and how you helped many.”

Loki laughed blankly and shook her head, “I helped no one, mother. Why would a Jotun help anyone?”

Frigga shushed her and laid down in the sofa with Loki on top of her, stroking her hands down her back, “You are our son, Loki, you helped me live. Odin too. You saved Thor so many times. You aren’t the villain you say you are.” 

The comfort that Loki felt in those words only lasted a few hours for when he was sat atop Hliðskjálf early that morning, he connected with the Destroyer long enough to see a fight commence between the Warriors and it. Loki panicked and looked around for Thor but found that he wasn’t around and so he assisted the Destroyer in trying to take down the Warriors but in the process, he sent cars flying and indirectly revealed Thor’s hiding place. 

“LOKI!” called a voice from Midgard that Loki heard through the Destroyer, “Brother I know you can hear this. I do not know what I did to wrong you after our talk, but this has to stop. You must let us all come home. I’m truly sorry for what happened.” 

Loki listened to his brother and turned to walk the Destroyer away but in doing so, unwillingly gave up control and the Destroyer stopped and turned back, hitting Thor across the little town and the throne room rattled at Loki’s scream of horror when he saw Thor collide with the ground. 

Loki turned again, dragging his feet to sit upon Hliðskjálf. He’d hit Thor. Sent him flying. He was surely dead. He ordered the Destroyer to come back and that’s when it happened. Through the Destroyer, he felt rumbling and then a lightning flash. Thor was alive. He was restored. Loki cried with joy and cut the connection with the destroyer to walk down to Odin’s rooms.

Arriving there, Loki held his mother and smiled into her neck, “Thor is coming home, mother! He’s home!” 

As Loki and Frigga expressed their relief, they laughed and thanked the Gods for saving Thor. For getting him back. It was a miracle. 

Loki heard the doors to the chambers open and he turned to greet his brother but all he saw in the blue eyes were hatred and confusion. Did Thor think he did that purposefully?

“Loki tell mother. Tell mother how you tried to kill me just now.” Thor growled and Loki’s heart sank. 

He was alone in his mind now; Thor didn’t trust him. Who would?  Dark King, after all.

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

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins

#loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki x reader #tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x you #loki (marvel) #loki fluff #loki smut #loki laufeyson xreader #loki laufeyson x female!reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki x reader smut

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

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

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

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

*

The next several hours are a blur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Or that was your plan, anyway.

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

The room is much colder at night.

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

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

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

But you also have to pee.

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

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

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

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

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

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

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

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

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

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

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

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

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

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

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not yet. Not yet.

*

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

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

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

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

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

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

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

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

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

“Please,” you breathe.

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

“Don’t stop,” you say.

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

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

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

You whimper, your hips rocking.

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

“I need to come,” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it working?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

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

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

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

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mochie85]

Blue Christmas

One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist

Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)

You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.

Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.

It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.

“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.

“Loki- what?”

“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.

“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.

“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”

“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.

“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.

That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.

Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.

The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.

He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.

“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.

“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.

There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”

“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.

“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”

“Why would the season be an issue?”

“Contingency.”

“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.

“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.

As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.

As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.

“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.

“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”

You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger.  “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.

“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”

Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.

You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.

You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.

That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.

Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.

Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.

“…Loki…”

“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.

In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him.

“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.

Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.

“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.

“S’cold,” you gritted.

“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.

“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.

Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.

His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.

You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.

You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”

Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.

He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him.  Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…”  he whined.

You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”

“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.

You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.

You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.

“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.

He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.

“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.

God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.

He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises.  “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.

“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.

“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”

“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.

Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”

🏷️ @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 @holdmytesseract @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 ++

#Loki #Loki fanfiction #Loki imagine #Loki x reader #Loki x yn #Loki x you #fluff #angst #smut #Loki au #avengers Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki Friggason #christmas fic #loki fanfic #loki smut #xmas #holidays #secret santa #camille's secret santa 2023

[lokisswiftie]

Headcanons for kissing with Loki :)

• First things first, most of your kisses have probably started with a simple peck. Just a soft kiss to his lips in passing, you pull back to breathe and go on with your day and the next thing you know you’re being pulled back in.

• He definitely loves forehead kisses. I think he needs them when he’s spiralling and thinking about his past.

• Please just take his face in your hands and be gentle with him.

• I also think he’d enjoy giving them, especially when you’re cuddling and he can’t kiss you on your lips.

• sometimes he kisses like he’s been starved of you. His hands travelling on you, trying to feel every part he can. Bury your hands in his hair while you’re kissing and he’s melting like a popsicle

• He can be so needy when he’s kissing you, pulling you impossibly closer.

• kiss on his neck and he’s a whining mess. Also his collarbones are sensitive as hell.

•Expect hundreds of kisses on your hands, it’s a habit he’s gained from living in Asgard.

• In the morning he’s a cutie, kissing softly on your cheeks and over your head. Also side note, expect to be late in the morning because I’m a firm believer he’s clingy as fuck. Like, he’s holding onto you begging for five more minutes of being held.

• he’s an attention whore, so if you’re busy doing something expect him to be pressing kisses to your pulse points, or any sensitive places he can get to.

• Kisses to the palm of your hands in public

• Also the hello kisses when you haven’t seen eachother for a while? Adorable. He’s picking you up and spinning you as gently as he can.

• he’s just so happy to see you.

NSFW WARNING!!

• during the act he’s kissing your neck, biting and soothing over with his tongue. He likes to kiss over your stomach too.

• he’s definitely leaving hickeys. You’re his and he wants everyone to know.

• he’s kissing down your body, and if you’ve been tied up once you’re done he’ll kiss over any bruises

• he would be such a tease too, kissing at your inner thighs before going where you need. He wants to hear you begging for him to give you what you want.

• afterwards he’s so gentle with you, kissing any places that got bruised or ontop of hickeys.

• he’s just a huge sweetheart okay.

A/N: hii hope you enjoyed :) Requests are open !! Please feel free to leave some!!

#loki fanfic #loki x reader #marvel #loki smut #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #marvel x reader #smut #loki headcanons #headcanons #loki fluff #fluff #Kiss

[lokisgoodgirl]

Heirs [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki starts your marriage by breaking tradition. Naturally. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Fluff & Smut. Oral. Asgardian HC Lore. Language. Loki POV. (w/c 1.9k)

Loki’s eyes followed the ripples your palms made over the water. Over the curve of your back. The delicate line of your spine. Steam rose in a mist, braiding upwards in the amber glow of sunset through the arched windows.

Sodden rose petals clung delicately to your waist, peppered sporadically on your skin like clean wounds. Beautiful, he thought, letting his robe fall with a rustle around his ankles to the ancient stone of the palace baths.

He smirked as you turned with a splash, instinctually covering your breasts before breaking into a smile. “Husband,” you giggled in greeting. It was the first time you had said it.

The word made him shiver, despite the heat thumping between his legs.

Loki enjoyed the slow crawl of your eyes up his body. You took in every inch of his long legs with the unrestrained hunger of a horny stable-hand, thumbs beginning to subconsciously massage your nipples. There was a flicker of pink as your tongue flashed over your lips, gaze lingering on his cock heavy set between tensed thighs. All yours, my love.

The water was perfectly warm. Hot – but not overly so. Carefully controlled thermal springs which ran into the palace saw to that. With each step into the stilling pool he took, you took a step back.

Even now wed, still ever the tease. Loki’s lips stretched in a mischievous smile, matching your own.

Heat kissed his knees, then his thighs, then his hips– dipping backwards to wet his hair in the perfumed baths. He could feel the weight sink into the tight weaves of his ceremonial braids, wound from his temples, the ends sinking down between floating strands of black. He rose up, rivulets running from his temples down to the nook of his collarbone. The Prince let out a small groan as you reclined on the steps by the side of the pool, only the curve of your mounds visible above gently lapping water. Beautiful.

You bit your lip, resting your elbows on the side. Waiting.

“I might even apologise for interrupting but I believe that would not be the most auspicious start to our marriage,” he coyed, before stopping directly in front of you.

He could feel the cool of your breath against his skin, wafting in teasing waves over the fat tip of his cock protruding from the water. “There will be plenty of time for lies, I'm sure,” you replied with a knowing smile, neck craning up.

Loki shivered again as your lips melded against his stomach, thumbs pressing into his obliques while your fingers curled around his trunk. He could feel droplets roll between his shoulder-blades as his neck tilted back. The feeling of your fingers wrapping around his base of his cock, the gentle suck of your mouth on the thick, swollen head threatening to make his knees buckle. How long he had waited for this. How long you had both waited for this.

“Stop,” he gasped, just as you primed to swallow him whole. Loki would never forget the way your eyes shone with innocent confusion. He looked forward to seeing that moment reflected in your beautiful gaze many times in the coming years. The god bent down, capturing your lips with a messy kiss while he slid beside you on the stone seat concealed beneath the surface.

“Do you know," he began, pausing to brush a thumb over your lips, "that the royal men of Asgard are forbidden from pleasuring their wives with their mouths?” His eyes searching yours, nerves fluttering in his belly. “I have heard it said,” you hummed, curling a thick ebony strand of Loki’s wet hair around your finger. “But it never made sense to me.”

Loki chuckled, leaning forwards to suck gently against your neck.

His tongue would never sate from the taste of your skin. Never. He let out a rasping moan in your ear, one of his hands sliding between your open thighs beneath the water.

The tips of his fingers grazed the plump folds he found, the arch of your back against the terracotta making his shaft twitch against his stomach. “You see, if my tongue is buried between your thighs, wife, it is not my cock.”

“Heirs?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Heirs.” Loki smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully as his finger trailed lazily down your inner thigh, dragging softly over your knee.

“The most beautiful sounds a woman can make are thus,” he postured casually, leaning one elbow on the side with a fist beneath his temple. Your palms slid teasingly over his stomach, inching further with each time-wasting word. “Firstly, the primal grunt as her blade pierces the flesh of her enemy. And second...”

Loki paused to follow the descent of a particularly fliratatious droplet down the curve of your neck with one long finger, “the shameless groan in her throat as she cums into the mouth of her lover.”

“Is that so?” you said, sliding your hands up over his shoulders. Oil swirling within the heat of the baths made them soft and slick, the lady’s delicate grip against ropes of ferocious muscle making him weaken. Loki felt his brows slant. “You do not believe me?” he murmured incredulously.

The laugh that chimed from your throat made his heart swell.

“My Lord, I am innocent of such things as you well know,” you said, a sarcastic smirk tugging your lips. Loki tutted, playing the game. “I have fought beside you many times, wife. I know that you keep the highest count of men slain by a woman’s hand.”

You nodded thoughtfully, before your head tilted to the side. “I meant the other thing,” you whispered, pressing your lips together. Loki cupped your cheeks as your stare focused on the narrow valley of lapping water between your bodies. He frowned. "Truly?" You nodded. He could feel your cheeks warm beneath his touch. How can it be that a man has never pleasured her so, he thought.

“Then let me show you how black of a steed I truly am in this family of mine,” he heard himself mutter, seeing your chest begin to heave with quickening breaths. “Of all our inane traditions, that is by far the most loathsome.”

The nervous laugh that escaped you bounced to every vault in the high ceilings, sinking through the cross-breeze from the open arches.

“More so than the Ceremony of the Sacred Seed?” you giggled, biting your lip again. Loki nodded, a smile curling one side of his mouth. “The Ceremony is a farce, but this…?” his hands found the curve of your waist beneath the water, lifting you effortlessly to the final step before the bath’s edge. “The waste of my wife’s pleasure from my talents would be unforgivable.”

Water lapped gently at your hipbones while Loki carefully placed your calves over his shoulders. He turned his cheek, placing three kisses gently on wet skin. “Besides, was it not the Ceremony which set our path in motion?” he murmured, before grazing his teeth over your ankle. Your hips bucked upwards, a splash. “At least we may be thankful for that.”

Loki watched in awe as your body leant back against the smooth terracotta ledge, the clear bathwater making rivers and brooks through the creases of your hips. The way your curves stretched and moulded to the stone, fat streaks of water languishing down your supple, oiled skin.

He spread his knees against the bottom step, sinking down. His stomach flipped as your breath hitched, desire roaring behind a demure moan. Your glistening pussy was being lapped by the sway of water, swollen lips revealed and hidden with the graceful tide. Loki hoisted your thighs, positioning you perfectly.

“You know, technically, this is treason against the crown,” he purred teasingly, working sucking kisses up the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He felt them tremble around his neck.

“Husband, please,” you gasped, letting your head drop back. The wet of your hair slopped against the warm stone floor. Loki smirked against your skin, feeling a long breath leave your lungs as his palms lightly gripped your waist. “Very well, Princess-” he smiled.

Loki let his eyes drink in the sight for as long as physics would allow before his lips formed a soft latch to your centre. He stilled, letting you buck into his mouth with a shudder. The warmth of the bathwater lapped at his jaw, liquid silk mingling his tongue with your sex. And like a tame beast, he began a flat ascent up your slit.

The subsequent rattling, gasping cry from your body would never leave him. Surprise, relief, pleasure, freedom – it was all contained in that wordless pitch wavering amongst the bathhouse steam.

He let his tongue curve the softness of your womanhood, hands roaming further up your waist. The curvaceous weight of your breasts cupped in his hands made his cock ache. A vision of sinking himself inside you flashed through his mind, rolling and wrapping in once-pristine matrimonial bedsheets. With every rock of your hips, that delicate pussy crept further from the surface before retreating; never fully submerged but always caressed by the touch of water.

Loki felt your hands slide over his temples, fingers that did not know what to do with themselves playing at his intricate ceremonial braids.

It was tradition for the bride to undo the braiding on the wedding night while her husband rested, utterly spent of course. Of course, Loki thought; as the flat of his tongue pressed against your clit. Your back arched from his palms, an ambrosial moan of his name ringing around the cloisters. But there is time enough for that.

He was vaguely aware of the rumbles of wet enthusiasm bubbling from deep in his throat, the taste of jasmine mingling with the sweet nectar leaking from your entrance. All of it. He wanted all of it. All of her.

Your fingers had knitted into the thick of his braids, pulling his face gently between your thighs. Deeper. Loki smiled against your cunt. He rocked you back, sitting up further on his knees. The god took a breath, pausing to observe the once-forbidden glory of your pussy displayed beneath his loving command.

“How are you mine?” he hummed over your pleasure-drunk form, water dripping from his chin. You melted into his open mouth as he delved down again. His worship was rhythmic, each wax and wane of his talented tongue ringing new wells of praise from your lips. Your hands slid down his glistening biceps, feeling every solid curve and vein on their descent.

He could feel the growing frequency of twitching in your calves, the tense of your thighs as you clung on to the wave of pleasure building in your gut. Gasping, you patted his forearm; but Loki shook his head against your sticky heat.

His eyes rose, seeing your brow furrowed in panicked anticipation. The Prince ran his palms up your thighs from where he knelt, never ceasing his gentle laps against your slit. Relax, my love, it said. I have you.

And with a choked cry of his name, Loki felt a warm well of sweetness against his tongue.

Water splashed against his cheeks as your hips shuddered, your tightened thighs pressing him closer. He slurped, kissing your sex as he would your mouth; massaging the sparks of ecstasy sizzling on every nerve for as long as they could last.

You had dug your fingertips deep into his triceps, riding out your pleasure. As she should, he thought; moaning against your cum-soaked sex. He hoped your enthusiasm would leave bruises. However fleeting.

“My Lord…” he heard you gasp through broken breaths. Loki took a moment to hover before lowering your legs, sinking your hips below the comforting glaze of water. Tendrils of his onyx hair spread on the ripples as you slid down the step to meet his lips with yours.

“My Lady,” he heard himself slur; drunk on the taste of your cum and the tone of your voice, “shall we to bed?”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him close. Fingertips played over the wet knotting of his braids, a loving smile tugging at your mouth. “Heirs?” you said, biting your lip.

“Heirs,” he smouldered.

Keep the wedding night journey going with Husband (follow up)

Tags (cont in comments)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @loopsisloops @glitchquake @joyful-enchantress @nyxlaufeyson @arch-venus25

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff and smut #loki x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x yn smut #loki x you smut #loki imagine #loki gif #loki marvel #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader smut #lokismut

[hunny-beann]

The Coming of Spring

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: It is May Eve on Asgard, a Holiday that exists to celebrate love, fertility, and the coming of Spring…

Though, if your lover, Prince Loki has his say in the matter (and he usually does), Spring will not be the only thing to come, nor will it be the only worshiped aspect of this particular eve.

Note: Welcome to the smut fest! For some reason I've found myself up at six in the morning writing this, so please forgive any mistakes I've made while in my horrendously exhausted state. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Pretty graphic NSFW, vulgarity, somewhat of a breeding kink, and pure unadulterated filth

Word Count: 2,419

There was a rather frantic energy pulsing throughout the room as the palace staff rushed about nervously, not a single set of idle hands to be found in the combined effort to finish the preparations for the afternoon's upcoming festivities in a timely manner.

You blew out a puff of air, already exhausted from the tasks you had completed thus far and silently cursing this day for daring to come at all.

And yet this year, as with every other, the springtime holiday still arrived, the augur of some great change, according to legend, though for you it always meant the same thing:

Waking up at five in the morning to prepare for the upcoming afternoon festival in whatever manner the queen deemed fit for the proper celebration of what had come to be well known Walpurgisnacht, or May Eve, the holiday that brought upon the loud and boisterous worship of love, fertility, and the coming of Spring.

And of course, a day so dedicated to such things was one of pleasant festivities to be certain, and thus you never failed to enjoy it, but even still, your chores weighed heavily upon you as your overworked fingers weaved petals and stems through glistening golden iron.

It had been four hours since you had gotten up to work, and somehow it had felt like an eternity, your hands cramping and begging for relief as the tips of your fingers rubbed themselves raw with duty.

You paused for a moment to yawn into the crook of your elbow, wishing for the one hundredth time within that hour alone that you had gotten more sleep the night before.

Still, it had been a worthy sacrifice, had it not? A little bit of exhaustion today in order to avoid the simmering desire of the realm's younger prince throughout the festivities, or, more accurately yet, throughout your abundant tasks that you had scheduled about your day?

Yes, almost assuredly. You had learned all too well from last year (and the other two before that), that it was rather hard to do such things as wash the finest of the palace's dinnerware with Loki's skilled fingers upon your chest or beneath your dress, after all.

So, if a bit of freedom from your concerns of being dragged off into some dark corner upon every available moment of your dear prince's day came at the cost of you being forced to wake up early while he slept away the previous evening's activities, then so be it.

At least this way, you could know for certain that you still had quite a few hours yet until someone urged the prince to rise, giving you plenty of time to complete at least the preparatory chores before he began his ever persistent search for you.

He seemed to enjoy the game of seeking you out each morning, or at whatever time it was that he rose or found himself at leave, though usually it was to do little more than tease or annoy you as you attempted to work through his ceaseless attempts at distraction.

But on a holiday like today, you found that he was typically all too content with taking his teasing quite a few steps further. That said, much to your (mostly feigned) chagrin, that did not mean that he never found himself seeking out far less innocent sounds than those of annoyance, laughter, or sheer disbelief from you on random days throughout the year.

No, Loki was incorrigible, and beyond even that, incomprehensible with his choices and behaviors, and you could normally never hope to know upon which day you might find yourself sandwiched between his chest and some palace wall, though with the arrival Walpurgisnacht, it was almost always a certainty.

Still, with something that was perhaps akin to a fool's ignorance, you dared to hope that maybe, after a night like the one this dawn had followed, your prince may have been just sated enough to make it through the holiday without torturing you so the way that he usually chose to.

Such a thought could not be so terribly remiss, could it? Not after the hours upon hours of groping, fleeting, and cradling touches that the two of you had offered one another the night before.

Not after an afternoon's worth of teasing at the hands of the god of mischief upon that very same day, or the longing glances that carried on well into the evening.

Not after he had cornered you in the garden after dinner had come to an end, speaking his long withheld and inconceivably filthy promises of what was to come clearly and casually into the cool night air as if the two of you were simply taking an evening stroll together, talking about the weather or your hobbies rather than the way he planned to have you upon his tongue within the hour, hands creating bruising imprints of obvious ownership in the soft flesh of your hips and thighs as he drove you to madness before pulling you right back toward sanity again with the blunt tip of his cock as it kissed up against your wet folds, smearing precum amongst the remnants of his saliva and the glistening drool of your already thoroughly abused cunt.

Not after you had given in a mere twenty minutes after hearing his whorish promises of what he intended to do to you once he laid his hands upon your bare flesh again, knocking quietly at his heavy chamber doors until he finally came to find you standing there, having made you wait in a manner that was no doubt intentional just so he could feel the exaggerated way that you melted against him when he finally pulled you near, kissing you deeply until his amused and teasing chuckles turned into low and rumbling groans that arose from deep within his chest, and he pulled away to order you to your knees before him, mouth open and waiting so he could see the way your eager tongue stuck out to taste him even before he was bare before you, and how your perfect thighs began to rub together in a fruitless attempt to ease the ache that the sight of him never ceased to cause.

Not after he had held you firm against his chest, arm looped around your middle as you'd laid beneath him on all fours while he'd thrust his strong and lithe hips against your trembling ones, not an ounce of mercy to be found as he hissed and moaned with reckless abandon beside your ear, the sounds of his pleasure easily matching and occasionally even drowning out your own as he reminded you of who you had been born to serve, to worship, and to cum for upon his very command.

And oh, did he command.

Eleven orgasms, if you had counted correctly, and you were fairly certain with as hazy as your mind had felt after the first four, that you had not.

Your cheeks burned red at the clear and persistent memories of the previous night, Loki's satisfied groans and sluttish moans playing over and over within your head as if he were right there with you, cock buried in whichever tight, wet hole was deemed worthy of his attentions within that particular moment.

You swallowed thickly, pressing your thighs together tightly as you continued your seemingly endless work, flower after flower coming to rest perfectly upon the third archway that had been granted your efforts for the morning thus far.

Though, in spite of how diligently you worked at your assigned chore, it seemed that the fates themselves had something against it being completed,

For what other reason could there be for such familiarly agile hands to suddenly rest upon your hips so early in the morn, in spite of the tiresome escapades that had occurred the night before?

It was so unlike the younger prince of Asgard to awaken so early after a night of passion, after which he tended to lounge upon his sheets, naked body blessing the very realm with its presence as sunlight danced upon his skin.

You had seen that many a time after all, hadn't you? So you would certainly know, better than most at that, if not better than all.

But then again, it was so very much like Loki to rise early not to seize this day, but rather to seize you upon it as he had done for the past three May Eves since he had claimed you as his own...

And maybe you had not considered that fact as diligently as you should have while working to tire him out the night before, though now you were embarrassed to admit that you scarcely knew why you would have wanted to do so in the first place.

It seemed that your rather vivid memories of the prior evening's festivities had brought about a familiar stirring betwixt your thighs, and you knew all too well that there was only one set of hands, one silver tongue, one long and devastatingly thick cock, and one god of mischief who could help you to ease your sudden discomfort.

"Good morning, my dear."

He purred against the shell of your ear, warm breaths causing your hair to flutter about delicately as his hands traveled over top your gown.

"It would seem that I require some additional support when it comes to selecting and befitting myself with the proper attire for this afternoon's festivities."

He all but purred, forcing you to bite back a shiver as you struggled not to make your already overwhelming need for him too obvious.

It was never fun to just give in, after all.

You knew all too well how much he liked the chase.

So, with that thought in mind, you steadied yourself to the best of your ability, giving your already racing imagination a few brief moments of peace before finally, you spoke,

"Is that so, my prince?"

You asked, feigning curiosity as you did your best to continue working on the task at hand, sore fingers working deftly at soft petals and slightly thorny stems as you weaved them continuously through metal.

"Well, I regret to inform you that your dear mother, our most respected queen, specifically requested that I myself create the flowered arches for the festival this year."

You began,

"She was kind enough to let me know how much she enjoyed my work upon them last eve in Lady Juniper's absence, and asked if I might be willing to work my magic for a second year running."

You heard an amused chuckle arise from behind you, and though you were certain that Loki had already planned something truly devious to drag you away from your duties with, you continued to feign innocence.

"And how could I dare say no to a request such as that, dear prince? It would seem that Lady Juniper's past maternity leave has provided me with quite the opportunity with which to rise into our lady's good graces, and who would I be to squander such a thing?"

There was a thoughtful hum from your lover as he reached beyond you to thumb at a few of the petals that decorated your current project with his left hand, though the right stayed firm upon your hip, the pads of his fingers pressing deftly into your flesh just as they had done the night before, mirroring the bruises he'd left there perfectly.

"An utter fool, to be sure."

He replied easily, voice low and smooth as he continued,

"Though, I can think of a far better way for you to rise into the All-Mother's good graces, sweetling."

He murmured, lips brushing against your neck just enough so that you could feel the smirk that rested so prominently upon them.

He had you exactly where he wanted you, though you could scarcely bring yourself to mind when there was such a tremendous desire building for him deep within your core.

"Oh?"

You asked curiously, nimble fingers still working on your once so heavily fixated on project,

"And what might that be, Prince Loki?"

At that, you felt the ever teasing god of mischief crowd your back, his hardness pressed against you as you desperately fought the urge to wriggle against his crotch just to hear the no doubt sluttish groan he would let out if you did.

Thankfully enough though, your lover seemed eager to get to the point, the reasoning for that fact somehow growing even harder at the touch of your warmth, even with it being so dulled beneath your clothing.

He chuckled,

"Well my dear, I think you would find her to be quite pleased if you were to request your own leave in the coming months."

He purred, and this time, you could not even hope to fight back the shiver that followed, your hands finding either side of the nearly completed archway with a gasp as Loki bent you over at the waist, pressing himself as close to your clothed core as he could manage with a low and eager groan, his words dripping with both amusement and thinly veiled arousal as he spoke up again,

"Would you like me to give you a reason to do so?"

He all but growled, offering you one tortuously slow gyration of his hips in order to ensure your understanding of his less than subtle connotations as the hand that had once gripped so tightly to your hip moved swiftly beneath your dress, rubbing firmly against your bundle of nerves through your undergarments as you gasped both out of humiliation for where he had you so plainly in need of him, as well as out of arousal at his confident and ever beseeching touch.

And then suddenly, you were giving fervent and almost pleading nods in response to his previous question, having given up entirely on any hope of completing your most important project of the day.

It was, after all, May Eve, and how else should one hope to properly celebrate the coming of the Spring if not by blossoming beneath the touch of the queen's beloved second son?

And, it was as Loki had so cleverly stated himself,

It was not as if you would not be arriving swiftly and permanently within Frigga's good graces soon.

No, not if the god of mischief had his way,

Not if the two of you celebrated Walpurgisnacht in the way that Freyja herself had intended.

Loki Tag List: @mischief2sarawr

Additional Tag: @lokisgoodgirl (thank you very much for so kindly answering my anonymous questions regarding the SAS earlier! I've found that I have yet to develop the courage necessary to directly message any (other) particular authors yet, but I figured I can at least step outside of my comfort zone and tag you as you oh so kindly gave me permission to in your reply. Thank you again for your encouragement! <3)

#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut #lokismut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki odinson #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki marvel #loki x fem reader #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut #loki breeding kink #loki x you #loki oneshot

[simplyholl]

Frozen Stiff

Summary: Captured by the Frost Giants, your time on Jotunheim gets interesting.

Pairing: Jotun Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Loss of virginity. Size kink. Somnophilia.

See my Masterlist here

You really did it this time. Your father instructed everyone stay in their homes this night. Loki, king of the Frost Giants had warned your father, King Erik, king of the elves that he would be coming through Alfheim. If anyone was caught outside, they would be considered an enemy, and taken prisoner.

Your father’s royal decree had went in one ear and out the other. You were considered a trouble maker. Not because of anything you had done consciously. Trouble seemed to follow wherever you went. You were so unlike your sister, the future queen of Alfheim, and no one let you forget that.

She was tucked away safely in her chambers with the door locked. Here you were, hiding in the bushes outside the palace. You wanted to get a good look at the Frost Giants. You had never seen one in person, and you didn’t think the view from your chambers would do them any justice.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the forest as they stomped through. The trees were shaking with each step they took, the force of their large bodies leaving holes in the ground where they walked. They were approaching quickly. You really should run back in the palace, but you were frozen. The first few Jotuns walk by and you’re stunned.

They are even bigger than you imagined. Then you see him, King Loki. He struts through and a wild thought comes to you. He’s beautiful. You had always been taught that the Frost Giants were ugly beasts that would take misbehaving children in the night. They seemed nice enough. King Loki had even given your father warning before passing through. He and the last three giants walk passed you and you count the seconds before you can run back inside.

Woof

You look beside you terrified. Your sister’s dog, Arnie, pants beside you, tail wagging.

Woof

He barks again. You grab him, trying your best to shush him. But it’s too late. He’s gained their attention. They turn back around, looking toward the bushes you are hiding in. You sink lower to the ground, trying to shove your body under the bush. You close your eyes, hoping if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.

But their footsteps shake the ground as they come closer. “What have we here?” One of them growls, picking you up with one hand. “We found a spy, your highness.”

“Bring him to me.” King Loki demands. You squeak as you are dropped from one huge hand into another. You shiver, the temperature of his skin is colder than you could have imagined. “Not a he, but a she.” He says amused, as he looks closely at you.

“What are you doing out here, little mouse? I warned your king that we would take anyone we found outside prisoner.” You swallow, trying to seem braver than you felt. “My father, King Erik, he did command the whole village to stay inside, your highness. I was simply curious and I wanted to see you for myself.”

Loki looks at you in the palm of his hand, amusement dancing on his features. “Your father, the king? So that makes you a princess? Are you the heir to the throne?” You shake your head. “No, your highness, that would be my sister.” You introduce yourself hoping it will get you out of this situation.

“A princess for a prisoner. What an interesting day it’s turning out to be.” He sneers. “No, wait!” You protest. He closes his hand around you, silencing you. When you arrive in Jotunheim, you are brought to a room with a giant bed, huge fluffy pillows, and a roaring fireplace. King Loki places you on the bed.

“This isn’t normally how I treat my prisoners, but you are still a princess. As long as you obey me, you may stay in this room and avoid the dungeon. You are free to walk around, and I will let everyone know that no harm is to come to you. Am I understood?”

“Yyyyesss” You stutter, you had been freezing the entire trip. You run to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together in an effort to get warm. Loki studies you, his red eyes lingering on your sheer nightgown. You really didn’t plan on getting captured when you went out, so you didn’t bother with putting on a proper dress.

You regret that decision now as his gaze lands on your breasts, heaving on your shaking form. He could see everything through the nightgown, and he was already looking, so you didn’t bother with attempting to cover yourself. “I’ll have someone make you proper clothing. In the meantime, there are extra blankets in the closet.” He walks out, leaving you with your thoughts.

Months had passed and you were settling into your new home. No one treated you like a prisoner, and you decided for once in your life to stay out of trouble. You had been given a job in the palace kitchen and you were making new friends. You were actually starting to like it here.

You giggle as your closest friend Marta, asks about your sex life. As a princess, you had to save yourself for whoever your father chose for you. You knew very little about the act itself. But Marta filled you in. She answered every question you had without judging you, and she even gave you some tips. The most shocking part was learning that a male might want to kiss you between your thighs. Marta told you there was nothing like it, so you couldn’t help fantasizing about it the rest of the day. When you laid your head down to rest, your tried to think of more questions for Marta.

The door to your room squeaked open. King Loki walked in, shutting it behind him. He gently removed the blankets from your sleeping form. You were wearing the nightgown from the first night you met him. He reaches out, his long finger grazing your nipple. The chill from his skin causing it to harden under his touch. You sigh from his attention, but don’t wake up. He carefully spreads your legs, laying down between them. His cold tongue meets your center, and you buck your hips toward him. He takes this as an invitation, long tongue lapping between your thighs.

You jump up, searching your room for him, but he’s not there. It was all a dream. You confide in Marta about it and she says it must be your conversation. It made its way into your subconscious. But you didn’t talk to Marta about it the next night when you had it or the next night. Weeks had passed and still, you had the same dream every night. It made it awkward for you when you had to serve King Loki his meals.

“King Loki has requested you serve his dessert in his chambers.” Marta told you, handing you the tray piled high with pastries, cakes, and fruit. You knock on his door, waiting for his instruction to enter. When he calls for you to come in, you bow to him. “My king, I’ve brought your dessert.” He’s propped up on his bed, gesturing for you to place it on a table by the window.

He’s so big, he nearly takes up all the room on the large bed. His muscled blue form has been the object of your fantasies for a while now. “Remove your dress, and get on the bed.” He demands. You drop the metal tray on the table. “Excuse me, your highness. I must have misheard you.”

He pats the bed, “You heard correctly, little mouse. I know you desire me. You dream of me every night. I’m only rewarding your good behavior.” You fight the urge to pinch yourself. You must be dreaming. “How did you know about that?” You manage to mumble. “I know all, little one. You can hide nothing from me.”

He beckons you with his thick finger. You do as he instructed, removing your dress and getting on the bed with him. He lifts you with one hand, hovering you above his face. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammer. “I’m having my dessert.” He quips placing you on his mouth. His long, cold tongue covers your center. You shiver from the chill. His velvety muscle curls beneath your clit, flicking it.

He treats you like a porcelain doll, holding you as if you might break. He could easily crush you without trying. You really were like his own personal doll. He enters your untouched flesh with his tongue, rocking you back and forth on it. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, trying to ground yourself. He drinks you like it’s water, the icy muscle tipping you over the edge, making your toes curl.

He suddenly tosses you on your back, his bulky form trapping you beneath him. He settles between your thighs. They start aching as he spreads them as wide as he can. It’s still not wide enough to accommodate him. So he pushes your knees to your chest, his gigantic cock nudging your center.

The thought of ruining such a small, delicate woman driving him mad with lust. “I’ll split you in half, little mouse. You would like that wouldn’t you?” Your still dazed from your orgasm, so you only hum in response. “My sweet princess is cock drunk and she hasn’t had any cock yet.” You nod, reaching for him. “I am the first to touch you, correct?” Another hum to confirm.

You gasp when he dips a large finger inside you, curling it upwards. “I have to get you ready.” He explains. As he works his skilled finger inside you, you rock your hips, hungry for more. You whine as he removes his digit from you, but you’re not left wanting for long. He thrusts into you, and you scream. He stretches you, and you try to adjust to his size. You feel him bottom out and you wiggle to get more comfortable.

Tears fall down your cheeks, the stinging not subsiding. “My poor princess. I’m too much for her. It’s only the tip, my sweet girl.” He gently traces the outline of his cock bulging in your stomach. Loki presses on it. “I can see myself protruding out of your stomach, little one. Do you know how feral that makes me? Such a small creature struggling to take the head of my cock.”

He tilts his hips, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Goosebumps line your arms when you feel his breath on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, my little princess. You feel incredible. I’ll keep you forever, my little plaything.” You whimper at his words, a gush of arousal soaking him. He moans, looking at your fucked out expression. He wraps his enormous hand around your waist, thrusting you down on him, faster.

Loki roars as he releases inside you. He pulls out, spreading your now limp legs. “I want to see me dripping out of you.” He lowers his head, black tresses covering your stomach as his icy tongue laps at you once more. “What a delicious mess you made.” He coos.

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

#loki x reader #loki #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki x yn #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader smut #frost giant loki #jotun loki #loki of jotunheim #frost giant Loki smut #loki fanfiction #frozen stiff

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

'Smut Sign-off: March' (Lexi's weekend event: 31st - 2nd)

Follow the instructions below to submit a request for a smut drabble of your choice!

~ We have reached the end of March! 👏 ~

As a final monthly sign-off, I would love to take the final weekend (fri-sun) of each month to work on some smaller smut drabbles for any character I write for (Eddie Munson, Bucky Barnes, Loki Laufeyson. Feel free to also request Steve Harrington as I am testing the waters for that character.)

I prefer to spend most of my writing time working on larger ideas/longer fics, so this is the perfect opportunity to indulge in some smaller works! And it keeps me busy!

To request a drabble, please send me an ask with the name of your chosen character, and a chosen kink/simple scenario. You can find a list of kink guidelines here.

This event starts NOW! ❤️

Any asks submitted AFTER 11:59pm on the 2nd of April will be declined.

I look forward to seeing your requests! 🦋

#bucky barnes #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x reader smut #eddie munson smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki smut #loki laufeyson smut #marvel x reader #marvel smut #marvel x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #Lexi's Smut Sign-off: March

[wannabemurdock]

I’m feeling prepared

Got tomorrows post ready and queued

Get keen for Loki - Day 7!

#kinktober #the queue thing scares me #marvel #marvel fandom #marvel smut #marvel imagine #loki odinson x reader smut #loki odinson smut #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #Loki

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 16﹕✦﹕┈・୧

loki x f!reader -> çnç

event masterlist

warnings: çnc themes, slight choking, bondage, cunnilingus, loki being a menace but both the reader & loki break character in the end. mentions of aftercare and sweet fluff‼️

“running will land you in worse situations than this one, pet.” the echoing voice of loki reverberated through the shell of your ear, louder than your panting, your gasping as you tried to clutch onto your failing lungs for air. “how adoring of you to think you can outrun, the god, your god.” loki’s low, mocking chuckle followed soon after.

you were aimlessly running in the asgardian castle corridors, trying with all your heart and soul to escape the ruthlessness of your captor. getting almost dizzy when you forced your feet to take another step, almost falling down if it wasn’t for those metallic ornamented wrists laced with fine asgardian leather grabbing you by the neck. “oh, found you.” he grimly chuckles.

“please— your highness, i will never run again.” you clutched onto his wrist, scratching it up while loki lifted you up forcefully, your legs leaving the ground but you didn’t feel choked. of course— him and his theatrics. “i know you won’t run, little pet. because i will render those legs useless when i’d be done with you.” loki gritted his teeth, baring the green light in his eyes as you got tied up, teleporting to his bedroom and against his mattress. green silk bands tied your wrists and ankles apart, like a starfish.

you tried your best to struggle away, but the tug only got tighter until a painful whimper escaped your parted lips. “submission might aid. i might add.” loki’s words were like a silent warning & also a hint. you may comply and he might be merciful. “please your highness, i beg off you to let me go.” you crooned, glossy eyed.

“oh, darling,” loki feigns pity, and the next moment you find yourself naked in front of his feasting eyes. nipples hardening at the tender touch of colder air and cunt clamping around nothing now that you felt so drastically exposed. your eyed squeezed shut, heat radiating through your cheeks as you turned your head to the side. “you should pray to your god, no? pray to him to be merciful.” loki muses, leaning in and kissing your throbbing clit.

the touch alone sent jolts down your spine and core, pupils widening at his skilled tongue twirling around your needy clit. “you taste sinful.” he smirked, eyes glancing at your furrowed brows. “let me go.” you tried once more, meek whimpers erupting from your pouted lips.

“hmm?” loki contemplated, acting as if he might actually let you go. “alright.” he leaned back, glinting mischievously with a smirk. “if you don’t want me having my way with you, then you don’t cum. after all. it is all but torment to you is it not?” loki emphasises, knowing full well you’d lose yourself and cream the moment he goes hard on your cunt.

you pouted, while that was answer enough, loki still wanted to show you the control he has over you. spreading your cunt lips, he leaned in, taking a shameless sniff of your arousal. “how cute.” he smirked, leaning in and lapping at your juices. fuck— you were feeling so hot and bothered, every single vein in your body feeling the heat of his administrations. you reflexively rutted your hips against him, eager to please yourself over his tongue, eager to cum.

“your highness- AH loki- please- please i’m so close.” it was not before long your body had betrayed you & you were reduced to a mumbling, panting, begging mess. even so, you knew better than to cum without loki’s permission. “go on, little pet.” loki’s thumb ran languid circles onto your clit. “have at it.”

your orgasm tore through your body as you screamed out his name, rabid breathing echoing through the walls of your shared bedroom. “fuck- fuck- can’t can’t.” your moans reduced to pleas again, when loki didn’t want to stop at just one orgasm. “please loki- need a break.” you gasped out, normally you could give him two orgasms without break, but the situation you were in made you a little more sensitive than normal.

“need a break? or want a break, pet?” loki asked once more, a silent nudge for your surity if you wanted him to break his character.

“need a break, loki.” you whimpered back, struggling against the restraints. the use of his first name was signal enough. “alright darling.” he smiled, the restraints gone as he leaned in, kissing you passionately.

“oh what a man you make me to be.” he rolled his eyes when you hug him back, inhaling the comfort of his scent. “it was fun! don’t lie.” you pouted, smiling back when he nuzzled his nose against you.

“you do know that i would never do anything against your will, right princess?” loki reminded you again, while you nodded in approval. “yes, i do.”

“perfect.”

“lifting me off the ground was a bit much.”

“come on, little one, i am known for my theatrics.”

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