#reader x loki

[last-herondale]

You Belong Here, With Me

Loki x FemReader

Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Tw: None that i can think of

A/N: I had an idea for a scene where the reader is hidden on Asgard while the Avengers fight a threat for her back on Earth. Loki is stuck being the host, but he really doesn’t mind. She doesn’t feel like she fits into Loki’s world, but Loki has a different opinion.

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It had been a miracle that you managed to slip away from the celebration. While the Asgardians certainly knew how to throw a party, your social battery had been drained from the past few weeks.

You had agreed, when the team suggested you lay low for the time being. Earth was too chaotic, too unsafe for you right now. The largest target was on your back, and the only way to keep the people you cared about safe from harm was to leave.

Carol had many planets she offered to take you to. One where it was summer all year long, and the beaches were the most beautiful in the galaxy. You had declined. When Quill offered to pick you up for a time to travel with the guardians, you declined. But when Thor offered to take you to Asgard and have Loki stay to keep you company…

You shook your head at the memory. How stupid it seemed now.

You had slipped out of the ballroom, taking great care to not be followed. It was difficult adjusting to the Asgardian fashion. Frigga had sent up many fine dresses of various fabric and color. Tonight you selected an elegant royal blue dress that exposed most of your back and shoulders. You had a long silk shaw to match, and the ends of it billowed behind you as you hurried down the hallway towards your room.

You could still hear the music and laughter pouring from the ballroom as you shut the door right behind you. Immediately your body relaxed. You kicked off your shoes and meandered your way to the vanity table. You began to undo your earrings when you heard the door click open.

“Turning in early I see,” Loki said, shutting the door as he entered. You watched him from the mirror, and were struck by the beauty of him in his green and gold clothes. “I do believe the party was just getting started.”

“Leave me be,” you muttered. Loki rolled his eyes and made his way toward your bed. He sat on the corner closest to you.

“What kind of host would I be if I left you unattended during a party?” He kept his voice playful, but there was concern ridden in his blue eyes. It had been a strange few weeks. The two of you agreed it would be best to keep this relationship, or whatever it was that had grown between the two of you on Earth, under wraps while in Asgard. Loki had his reasons, all in good nature, he had promised, but still he was tight lipped about it all. You wondered what kind of customs Asgardians practiced when it came to intimacy, and you were too embarrassed to ask.

You sighed as you removed the rings and bracelets from your hands. They had been gifts from him, far too beautiful for the occasion. Your hands began to move towards your neck to unhook the maze of necklaces, but Loki was up in a flash.

“Allow me,” he said. He pushed your hair aside to one shoulder in a delicate motion. His hands were cool on the back of your neck, and you had to stop yourself from shivering. Carefully, began to unclasp each necklace and place them on the vanity.

“Tell me what troubles you, my love,” Loki said. He looked at you through the mirror's reflection. You stared at each other for a moment as Loki undid the last necklace. His fingers seemed to linger a bit on your shoulder, giving you the smallest of caresses.

The touch heated your blood and you stood from the vanity, turning to face him. His eyes searched yours, all amusement gone from his expression. Moonlight pooled in from your window, casting a beautiful pale light across Loki’s features. He was so ethereally beautiful that it hurt to look at him sometimes. You longed to touch him. To be able to openly touch him and love him as unabashedly as you had on Earth.

“I would prefer not talk about it tonight. Please, leave.” You whispered. You hated turning him away, but your heart and mind were too muddled and weary to feel anything else.

Hurt flashed across his face for a moment, but he quickly composed himself and simply shrugged. “As you wish.”

He strode a few steps forward, leaving you where you stood. You turned away, waiting for the door to slam shut after him but it never came.

“Have I done something to offend you?” He asked, facing the door. He slowly turned around as you looked at him. “If I have done anything, y/n, please let me correct it. You know I hate it when you're angry with me, darling. Please, tell me what I've done.”

His words rattled your resolve. You bit your lip to keep it from trembling. Your emotions from the past few weeks began to overflow, and it took all your strength to keep the tears at bay.

“It’s not you, Loki. It’s me,” you said, your voice cracked on the last word. Loki’s gaze softened immediately, any facade of anger or amusement gone. He stepped forward, placing his hands on your elbows.

“Y/n-“

You stepped back from his grip and began to pace the length of your room.

“I don’t belong here, Loki. This whole thing was a mistake.”

“What?” Loki ask incredulously. “Who the hell told you that nonsense? I shall have their tongues removed-”

“No one- I told myself that. Because it’s true. I don’t fit in here.” Tears brimmed the edge of your eyes. You silently cursed yourself for being so emotional. Why should it matter if you didn’t fit in here? Why did you care so much? It wasn't as if this was a permanent situation. You would be leaving just as soon as things settled down on Earth. Why did the idea of leaving hurt just as bad? They were answers you hadn’t been able to find in the time you had been on Asgard.

You expected Loki to laugh. It sounded ridiculous enough in your head and saying it out loud didn’t give the words anymore validity. But still, your heart twinged at the thought. But he didn’t. Instead he just stood there, looking thoughtfully at you, as if he understood.

“You are unhappy here…”

You winced at the sadness that lingered in his sultry voice. You stopped pacing and took refuge by sitting on the edge of your bed.

“It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my time here. Truly, your home is beautiful- it’s magnificent. Everyone here has been nothing short of generous, especially your mother, but I just-“

You took a ragged breath. “I’m just a human. A human that made a very big mistake to have to be hidden away. I’m a mess. I don’t fit in here- amongst gods in their golden palace. I’m not like you Loki.”

“I believe you and I are more alike than you’d care to admit. And you are so much more than just a human.” You blinked at him, shocked by his response. He didn’t seem angry, or even the slightest bit annoyed by your explanation. Instead, a hint of playfulness danced in his eyes. He moved closer to you extending out his hand.

“May I show you something?” He asked. You opened your mouth to object but he just clicked his tongue, cutting you off. “If you still wish to leave afterwards I will have Heimdall take you anywhere you’d wish to go. Just- humor me for a moment. Please?”

You gave him an uncertain look, but the small grin on his face made your heart lurch in your chest. You placed your hand in his and followed him as he led you out of your room.

“Loki- my shoes…” you began as your bare feet hit the cool marble walkway outside of your room.

“Don’t worry, darling, you won’t need them. Come, quickly before someone sees us.”

The two of you ran through the palace. Loki kept the two of you close to the dark passage ways, making sure to stay clear from any other person that lingered the halls. Music from the ballroom could still be heard across the palace. It’s fast tempo gave the ground beneath your feet a heartbeat.

Loki held you close, never letting go of your hand as the two of you ducked into a single spiraled stairwell. Unexpectedly, he swept you off your feet and began to carry you as he ran up the stairs. You let out a swell of laughter as the two of you ascended, wrapping your arms around his neck for support. You fought the urge to kiss him, biting your bottom lip as you held him.

Once you made it to the top, Loki gently put you down and took your hand again. He walked with you this time, following the corridor until the entrance arched into a beautiful awning. Your eyes widened at the sight of Asgard in the starlight. The city seemed to dance underneath the moonlight, and the glow from the Bifrost glimmered in the distance.

You leaned on the stone edge balcony, letting the ends of your shawl blow loosely in the wind. Loki stepped closer beside you, the left side of your body felt warmed by his presence.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

“As are you,” Loki said. You felt your cheeks burn as the compliment. “Do you know why I offered to bring you here?”

The question stunned you. The whole time you had assumed your placement here had been Thor’s idea. Loki took your silence as an answer and continued.

“I wanted you to come here because I could not think of any other place you deserved to be.”

Loki looked out onto the expanse of Asgard. His eyes grew soft at the sight of his home. “When I found out the truth of my past, I felt exactly as you feel now. Unworthy. And then when I continued to make mistake, after mistake-“

Loki’s voice broke. You placed your hand on top of his and held on tightly. He gave you a small smile and ran his thumb over your fingers. It was the most contact you two had since your arrival. Loki had been called away on official duties, standing in for Thor in his absence by attending meetings with Odin. But even this simple touch seemed to sustain the both of you.

“Asgard is a difficult place to call home. Especially for those of us that were not born from its glory. I have fought bitterly for my place here. I have hurt many who loved me for the sake of it, and have worked tirelessly to amend these wrongs and yet it often does not feel enough.”

Loki turned to you, taking both of your hands in his.

“I do not deserve it, but I am a son of Odin. I am a prince of Asgard, despite it all. And you,” his fingers tipped your chin up gently, moving your face closer to his. “From the moment I met you, I knew you belonged here. Even on Earth, in those quiet moments we shared together, your mind- your soul, you always reminded me of home.”

Tears were falling down your face now. Your body hitched with a small laugh as Loki wiped a tear away.

“I hoped you would fall in love with Asgard. Hoped that I could share with you one of the few parts of my life that I am actually proud of. I never wanted it to make you feel less than you are. And to me y/n, you are everything.”

Loki pulled his hands away for a moment. He held them out before you as magic illuminated around his palms. A thin silver crown made of silver vines appeared before Loki. Flecks of gold spilled around the silver, making the crown glimmer in his hands.

Loki looked at you, his gaze as steady and as sure as you’ve ever seen him. Before you stood a god, one that looked as if he would burn the world down for you, and you alone.

"There is beauty in the starlight of every corner of the galaxy, but I have found the one who for me, holds the stars."

"Loki?" you asked breathlessly.

Loki gave a small smile. "I was going to ask you tonight, before all of Asgard, if you would marry me. But as always, you made me change my plans when you left the ball early. "

"Marry you?" you whispered. Loki nodded, his pale blue eyes lit up his face.

“That’s why I was away these last few days. I spoke with my father, my mother, even Thor before we left, to ensure that if you were to accept- you would have your rightful place here with me, as a Princess of Asgard.”

“And-if Asgard does not make you happy my dear, then we can live on Earth. We could live anywhere- wherever you want. As long as I have you, I know I will be home.”

Words seemed to fail you. Tears continued to fall down your face as Loki looked at you with unbearable gentleness. “You would have me then?” You asked. “Despite everything..?”

Loki gave you a heartbreaking smile. He placed his hand on the side of your face and stroked your cheek. “Y/n, love,” he murmured. “I wish you could see yourself as I do. But I will spend the rest of our lives showing you how much you mean to me. I will be there, no matter what else comes your way. I will fight for you, and all you hold dear for the rest of my days."

You smiled as tears ran down your face. The wind blew tendrils of your hair around. You put your hands on Loki’s face, pulling him closer until the tips of your foreheads touched.

“Yes,” you whispered. "Yes, I will marry you."

Loki gave a soft, almost relieved, laugh. He used his free arm and wrapped it around your waist as he brought your body closer to his, until there was mere inches between you. His hand splayed out on the bare back of your dress as he brought you in for a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him deepen the kiss, wanting to be consumed by him in every way. He broke apart, making sure to pepper your tear stained cheeks with light kisses.

He brought up the other hand that held the crown. You rolled his eyes at him as he spun it around his finger.

“A ring would have sufficed,” you teased.

“Not for you, my dear,” he murmured as he gently placed the crown on top of your head. “Nothing in the cosmos could suffice.”

The crown was light on your head. Loki took a step back to get a good look at you and his eyes seemed to darken as he took you in. You felt your face flush as you reached out for him to come back to you. He smiled as he spun you around, causing your dress to twirl in the moonlight. He kissed you again, holding you tightly against the backdrop of the Asgardian moon.

“Does this mean we have to return to the party?” You asked teasingly against his mouth.

“It is technically our engagement party. It would be rude to keep them waiting all night. I believe my mother had a cake made for us.”

He kissed the length of your neck, taking great care to give every exposed part of your skin attention. You smiled and tipped your head back, happiness radiating from every pore in your body.

“Can we wait- a few more minutes?” You asked breathlessly. Your hands traveled up the back of his neck, entangling into his hair as he kissed your collarbones.

“Darling,” he growled into your skin, “if you keep touching me like that, we may never make it back to that party.”

You laughed, letting yourself forget all of the doubt you had held in your heart. Playfulness danced in your eyes as you tipped Loki's face up to yours.

"No rush, or anything dear," you murmured. "But I did leave my shoes in my room."

Loki chuckled, giving you a wicked grin. With that he lifted you into his arms. "Let us make haste then to the bedroom- to retrieve my dear lady love's shoes, of course."

〰️

#fem reader #reader x marvel #marvel fanfic club #marvel #mcu fanfiction #loki odinson #loki x you #loki #loki and reader #loki laufeyson #reader x loki #loki fluff #fluff #sweetness #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki comfort #loki god of mischief #mcu loki #loki love

[laneynoir]

Tony: y/n where is it?

Y/n with a confused expression: wheres what tony baloney?

Loki: *sets book down* Oh this will be delightful

Tony: you know what I mean! Where's my goldfish?

Y/n: *innocently* isn't it in the bowl?

Tony: this is a potatoe! Do you think I'm an idiot? *storms out of room*

Y/n: *burst into laughter*

Loki: care to explain love?

Y/n: he- *resolves into laughter again* -he's been feeding that potatoe for three weeks!

#marvel #marvel x reader #incorect marvel #incorect quote #incorect marvel quotes #reader insert #loki x reader #reader x loki

[wheredafandomat]

The Devils Angels 🎸

Chapter 7: Soon found out I was loosing my mind

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

After leaving Marisol outside considering she was just passing and not actually stopping, Loki decided to go inside. Security stepped aside as he strode in confidently, walking into the main building where there were currently people performing. He looked around the crowd at the people he was hoping to put on a show for later on. Usually at venues like these ones, the audience were either too stuck up to dance and feel the music or too high on narcotics to understand the music. Surprisingly, the audience today reflected the acts. Tweed and cotton was switched for leather and metal. Everyone looked ready to witness some real rock. As he continued to look around, he noticed Bucky in front of the stage with his arm around a girl as he spoke in her ear. Like everyone else, she was dressed appropriately. Tight leather pants and some sort of fitted vest. His eyes ran over her body as if mapping her curves. He knew it was wrong but she looked hot, he’d simply admire from afar. He was about to head to the bar before he saw the mystery woman turn her head to speak in Buckys ear.

“Y/n.” He uttered into the atmosphere barely believing his eyes. He remembered your attire yesterday, this was a whole new look plus you were with Bucky. How odd. Before he even made a conscious decision, his legs were walking towards you before his hand tapped you on the shoulder.

Feeling someone tap you on the shoulder, you turned your head the same time Bucky did only to be met by Loki who was looking directly into your eyes. Your eyes unforgivingly left his before running over his outfit. Clearly Loki loved leather. Your eyes settled over his low cut leather pants, did he even wear briefs?

“Hey.” He greeted loudly with a smile not wanting to bring up last night. Did you remember it?

“Loki.” Bucky answered with a grin before they exchanged some sort of special handshake.

“Hi.” You replied with an awkward smile, quickly focusing on Lokis face again. You didn’t know whether or not you should have brought up last night. Did he remember and was he expecting a thank you for the water? You decided on not bringing up last night and instead fought with yourself not to ask who it was he was outside with. It was nothing to do with you although if it was a girlfriend, it was better she knew of Lokis escapades asap as opposed to finding out at a later date. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin the relationship but you would have liked to know if your boyfriend was spending the night in random strangers beds. As your mind lingered on the thought for longer, you realised how out of character let alone unsafe it was for you to have brought him to your home alone. Before you had time to dwell on the thought any longer, the three of you were heading back towards the bar where Nat and Steve already were.

“Hey y/n, glad you could make it too.” Steve greeted, quickly wrapping one arm around you before returning all of his attention back onto Natasha. Loki was standing one side of you whilst Bucky was standing at the other. They both took their seats either side of you before you sat down too. The bartender took your order before you fell silent in between Bucky and Loki who were talking to each other over you and then sometimes people who came up to them.

The band that were currently on stage were replaced by a DJ that settled with playing older rock songs that calmed the atmosphere hopefully in the hopes that people would flock to the bar and order more drinks before the main event. Heart of Glass by Blondie started to play and you took the opportunity to nod your head a little as you sang mostly into your glass feeling slightly more relaxed after a few drinks.

“Not sure if you got the note, last night was good.” Loki spoke into your ear.

“You didn’t leave a number.” You quipped realising that the reason was probably because he was already in a relationship.

“I don’t often leave my number around.” He answered. You turned to face him, not realising how close you both were. You took his features in, sooo goood looking. You kicked yourself again for not properly remembering the feeling of his lips against your skin. The longer your eyes remained on one another’s, the deeper you fell into a trance like state forgetting the fact that the girl you saw him with was probably—definitely his girlfriend.

Realising that your gazes had been lingering on one another’s for slightly too long, if that was even possible, Loki decided to break the silence.

“We’re on in a bit, would you like to come backstage with me whilst I practice? I’ll even let you kiss the mirror again.” He chuckled “plus I wouldn’t mind getting to know you away from all this noise.” He added.

“Yeah.” You nodded seemingly dazed.

Without speaking any further, Loki stood up, taking your hand before weaving you both through the crowd and towards the backstage rooms. He looked even better in leather from behind.

Tags:

@lokisprettygirl22

@michelleleewise

@howdidurhammergrowchris

@mcufan72

@violethaze

@mischief2sarawr

#loki x reader #tom hiddelston loki #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel) #oc fiction #loki fanfiction #loki au #reader x loki #loki x you #loki x y/n

[hotboy-hottub]

Lokiposting at this hour. I hoped to have my fic up by now but here's some loki inspo in the meantime

#sketch #loki (marvel) #loki fanart #loki art #loki odinson #reader x loki #loki x reader #loki friggason #fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

✧.*  𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✧.* || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

**tell me in the comments if you would like to be tagged in anything!**

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

➤ General | @high-functioning-lokipath ​ @eternal-silvertongued-prince ​ @justyourlocalwhore ​ @cookiemumster1 @spencerrxids

-ˏˋ CHARACTER X READER! ˊˎ

➤ Stephen Strange | @starrynightzzblr ​ @danzalladaggers​ @spencerrxids @msseijii @starstruck-loner @evelyn-kingsley

➤ Loki | @evelyn-kingsley @badwolf00593 @anukulee

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

TO ALL THAT HAVE BEEN TAGGED - YOU’RE ALL SO GREAT!! *HUGS*

If you would like to be tagged in any of the lists above, just tell me in the comments! Either on this post or any of my fics! These are all the characters I’m working on (for now), so let me know because I would love to add you!

If you would like to be added in multiple lists, just say the word! This list is always changing!

#marvel #mcu #stephen strange #loki #doctor strange x reader #loki x reader #stephen strange x reader #reader x loki #loki fanfiction #stephen strange x you #loki x you #stephen strange fluff #loki fluff #marvel imagine #doctor strange

[queenofmistresses]

adding 2 more characters that I will write about! Loki (marvel) and Bruno Madrigal (encanto)!

#sub loki #sub loki x reader #Reader x loki #bruno madrigal x reader #sub bruno madrigal #mommy k!nk #mommydom #mistress and slave #mommy kink #mommy #bd/sm mommy #mommy milkers #bd/sm puppy #baby boy #dom/sub #loki x reader

[flightlessangelwings]

Being inclusive with your reader insert fic is a kindness. It tells people of color (poc) that you are considering someone who does not look like you in your fic. It shows love and dedication to our craft. It tells poc that they belong here too and they can see themselves in your story.

Poc aren’t look for activism in fic, we know fandom isn’t that serious, but we should be able to have that same level of escapism when we turn to fic and fandom. We belong here too. This space is for everyone, not just one group of people.

Just to give a few examples of how simple it can be: say “skin warmed” instead of blushed, say “cradled your head” instead of running fingers through hair, say “angles yourself to kiss” instead of standing on tiptoes, use italics to indicate Spanish to take out a throwaway line of “you didn’t understand Spanish” things like that. Small changes that do not impact the fic at all but make a world of difference in inclusivity!

And for anything you can’t/don’t want to change, simply add warning in the beginning. Things like hair descriptors, anything reader might wear, some backstory for reader (especially involving family or where the story is set), readers job, things like that. A lot of times just having that heads up before the fic makes a world of difference!

And one example of kindness we as writers always worked to change: until recently (just a couple years ago) it wasn’t common to label the gender of the reader. But those who aren’t female asked writers to label it so they know which to read and which to avoid, and now it’s common to label the gender/pronouns of the reader. So it is possible! It just takes effort! And I’m a writer myself so I know it can be done!

We can pretend to be a bartender or a bounty hunter or an actress or anything else. But we shouldn’t have to imagine we’re a white one.

#inclusivity #x reader #fanfic #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia x reader #marc spector x reader #javier peña x reader #marcus moreno x reader #poe dameron x reader #Pedro pascal fandom #Oscar Isaac fandom #marvel fandom #star wars fandom

[last-herondale]

Help Me Understand

Loki x FemReader!

Loki x FemReader!

Angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff Warnings: Mentions of abuse, self deprecation, feelings of unworthiness

This fic takes place during Dark World. (I didn't particularly like the movie, but we were blessed with scenes of Loki so...) Summary: The reader is a handmaid of the castle, assigned by Frigga to take care of a special prisoner. While you tend to Loki, you slowly begin to learn more about the "Would-be King of Earth".

A/n: Here is the Loki fic that i promised in my poll! I hope you like it! I had fun with this one.

Enjoy 🤘🏼

“Could you cease with your incessant humming?” Loki hissed from across the room.

He sat against the wall of his cell, not bothering to look up from his book as he spoke to you. You ignored him, continuing your tune as you attended to your duties. Maiden’s work was not a particular favorite job of yours, but Queen Frigga had requested for you personally to see to Loki’s new… living arrangements.

You had just finished putting fresh linens on his bed, placing clean clothes into his wardrobe, and began to tidy up his mess of books that were strewed about the place. You continued to hum as you worked, delicately placing the books into their proper shelves.

Finally, you heard the soft slamming of a book, and a loud sigh from behind you. “Must you always be so irritating?”

“Insulting me will not make me leave any faster, your grace,” you say simply as you finish tidying up. You turn around to him and are met with an icy stare. “In fact,” you mused, “I may decide that these floors need waxing, and gods know how long that might take me.”

A flicker of something crossed Loki’s face, but you were unable to detect what it was before he turned his face back towards his book. He didn’t open it again, but rather he let his fingers caress the pages gently. You found yourself watching him for longer than necessary, and heat flooded your cheeks as you turned away. You gathered up the old sheets and began to make your way to the exit when his voice cut through the silence. “Why do you still call me that?”

You halted mid-step, blinking in surprise at the question. “Call you what, your grace?”

“That,” Loki said bitterly, “Your Grace. You of all people should know by now. I am a prisoner. I have no place here.”

You froze in place. In the few days you had worked here, Loki had hardly spoken to you, let alone discuss his imprisonment. You slowly turned to face him, being careful to guard your emotions. Loki looked to you expectantly, an eerie calm washed over his face as he waited for you to respond.

"You are still a Prince," you replied carefully, "And I was taught to always formally address those of higher status."

Loki gave a bitter laugh. "Naive little thing, aren't you? Save your pleasantries for when you leave this cell, I have no need for them, and you'll not win any favor with the All Father by being cordial with me."

You narrowed your eyes at the god. You had heard rumors of his nature all your life. The Mischievous son, the silver tonged viper, the fallen god. Stories of his rampage on Earth had spread like wildfire. You had wondered how much of them were true, if he really was the villain everyone seemed to think he was.

You straightened your posture, tilting your head a bit higher. You refused to be intimidated by him, no matter what you might have heard. "It is not for your benefit, believe me. I am in the service of your mother, not Odin, and it is on her behest that I show you this simple act of courtesy, whether you are deserving of it or not. Now if you will excuse me, your grace," you spun on your heel and exited the room, leaving Loki glaring after you.

~

The next few days passed by without issue. You attended to your duties in a diligent manner, always bringing Loki his meals on time, cleaning his cell, and bringing him books that his mother had sent with you. Loki kept his distance, for the most part. He couldn't help but mutter the occasionally bitter phrase at you, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. Frigga was grateful to you for your service. The other maidens were too frightened of Loki to take the job, and you were Frigga's last hope. For what, you were not certain.

It was dinner time now. You carried a platter of food down into the cells, taking pleasure in the smell of freshly baked bread and stew meat. A guard let you into the cell without question. You thanked him as you entered and was unsurprised to see Loki lounging in a chair, book in hand. He had his hair tied back into a messy bun, a few of his dark strands lingered on his face, almost kissing his cheekbones.

You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes flickered up briefly from his book to look at you. "I have brought your dinner," you said. You placed the plate on a small table that sat on the opposite side of the room, being careful to move some scattered books and parchment. As you turned, books in hand, you nearly bumped into him as he stood beside you. "Watch it!" you snapped. Immediately you bit your lip.

A smirk spread across Loki's face, as if he could read you like one of his books. "My, my," he mused, "Not as cordial as we usually are, are we?" Warmth heated your face as you pushed past him, eager to be done with your job. “My apologies,” you muttered. Loki just snorted as you began to put away the books in their proper place.

"And what have you brought me today, my gracious lady?" Loki mocked as he lifted the lid from the container.

"Lamb stew, your grace," you replied with a sour tone. You finished putting the books away and turned to face him. You were caught off guard by the sight of him. He stood rigidly over the plate, giving a distant stare into the bowl. “Is something wrong?” You asked.

Loki remained silent as he slipped into the dining chair. He clasped his hands together in a tight ball, and leaned his head into them. Slowly, you made your way closer to the table. You peaked your head over the bowl to make sure nothing was amiss.

“My mother made this, didn’t she?” He asked weakly.

“I’m not sure your gr—“

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Loki slammed his hands down onto the table, causing the bowl to go spilling all over the table. Loki rose from his seat so fast that the chair knocked backwards. “Does she take me for a fool? Does she honestly think that she can win my sympathy by bringing me books, cooking my favorite meals, sending some broad to tend to me each day?”

Your blood felt like ice in your veins. Loki looked at you as if you were some kind of monster. His eyes seemed wild, but there was a sadness in his expression that he couldn’t hide. He caught you staring, and he gave a low snarl as he charged toward you. You stood your ground, stiffening your back as he stuck a finger in your face.

“You tell my mother— the next time you grovel at her feet— that I don’t need her pity. She needs to accept how things are now— how things have always been..." he took a ragged breath. The heat of him radiated around you. He inched ever closer to you, his forehead nearly touching yours as he hissed. "I don’t need her— and I most certainly do not need you.”

“Is that all?” You asked calmly. Loki’s expression looked murderous, but you just turned around and began to clean the table. You gathered the tray, putting everything back as best as you could as you made your way to the exit. You hesitated before leaving, turning back to look at Loki. He had thrown himself into one of the armchairs, holding his head in his hand as his body heaved with deep breaths.

You sighed a soft breath and placed the tray down on the floor. You didn’t understand why you were doing what you were doing. All you knew is that you were walking across the room, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked up at you with tear brimmed eyes. Your presence shocked him, that you were certain. He had to mold his expression into one more hostile to fit the façade, but instead he just looked… broken.

There was a pang in your chest when you looked at him. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself.

“Firstly,” you began in a gentle voice, “I will expect an apology for your earlier comment before I leave.” Loki opened his mouth to speak but you quickly interrupted. “Secondly, your mother is one of the few people in Asgard— possibly in the universe— that truly cares about you. You are her son, and she loves you unconditionally, despite whatever might have happened in your past. You would do well to remember that.”

He just stared at you with a wavering intensity. “You don’t know anything,” he muttered. “Perhaps not,” you shrugged, “but what I do know is that you do not frighten me. If your goal is to scare me away or anger me to the point of insanity-- I’m afraid you’ll fail. But there is little use in making my job more difficult than it needs to be, so out with it."

Loki furrowed his brow. "I don't-" "Look, neither one of us wants to be in this situation. Clearly, you are upset— either with your circumstances, the Queen, or me I don’t care, but for the sake of both of our sanity, I think its best we clear the air."

Loki scoffed. "This is ridiculous." "No, what is ridiculous is throwing a fit over perfectly fine stew," you muttered, letting a small smile escape your lips. Loki studied you, taking a large sigh as he rubbed his temples. "You are quite irritating," Loki muttered.

You took that as a victory and nodded. "It does not have to be today. We can begin tomorrow, when I bring you your breakfast." You stood up from his bed and made your way to the exit, picking up the tray once more. “Think on it, your Grace. I believe it could do us both some good… this cell can feel lonely for just about anyone, but it doesn’t have to be.”

You signaled for the guard to open the door. Just as you were about to step out, you heard his low voice echo behind you.

"I apologize," Loki began in a soft tone, "for my behavior this evening. My words were- unbecoming to say the least, my lady." He said the last words with a sour tone, but there was the faint whisper of a smile on his lips. You turned to him and gave a small bow with your head just before leaving the cell.

~

As promised, the next morning you came, breakfast in hand. This time you requested that two portions be prepared. You wanted Loki to feel as normal as possible, so you joined him for breakfast. At first he seemed amused when you took a seat at the table in front of him, a sly smile inching across his face as you served yourself from the platter. "Aren't you going to eat?" you mused, filling your plate with meats and eggs, "I will eat this entire thing if you don't." Eventually he shrugged and also began to dig in.

You were surprised by how easy it was to talk with him. It was as if you had always known each other. Once the conversation began, which took some encouragement from your end, it never seemed to stop. Loki had a deep love for books and theater, and you quite enjoyed listening to him recount his favorite plays from the royal theater. The two of you talked about your childhood, the fond memories of Asgard in your youths. Loki spoke of Thor often, even though he seemed to try to avoid him as much as possible. You could tell he loved his brother, despite their complicated history. Loki refused to talk about his father, the memories still perhaps too painful for him, and so you didn’t push.

You listened to every word, not out of duty or obligation, but out of curiosity. It was an odd wonder to pick the brain of the crowned prince. The mental images that you held of him from past rumors were starting to fade. A clearer picture was being painted and the menacing god before you was beginning to become a man. He would listen to you as well. Loki would ask you questions as you worked, and he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

Days passed like this. You now ate every meal with Loki. The two of you filled the empty silence with chatter and sometimes laughter. You viewed each time you made him laugh as a victory and he enjoyed teasing you to the point of making you red in the face. His demeanor towards you changed. Slowly, his snippy remarks began to dwindle and he seemed to smile more, although you couldn’t be sure if it was because of your company.

~

Not all days were good. Some days Loki would be in one of his horrid moods. You came to the cell one day to find most of his furniture overturned. His cell was a wreck and Loki seemed to mirror his room. His hair was a tangled mess, and dark circles hung under his eyes. Part of you wanted to get angry with him. To yell, to curse, to hit at him for making you clean up after him. But you didn’t. There was still that lingering sadness in his eyes, hidden behind the slyness. You could see he was hurting in ways you couldn’t imagine and so you took it in stride.

He would apologize once his episodes would end. He would read to you from his favorite books, as a sort of peace offering, or make sure to clean up immediately after your meals so that you wouldn’t have to. You never forgave him out loud, but he must have known you didn’t hate him too much because you kept returning. Day after day.

One night you returned to bring him dinner and you could tell he was in one of his dark moods. He hadn’t destroyed himself or the room, thank god, but you could sense the change in his demeanor as he ate. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or shall we continue this night in silence?” You meant it as a friendly nudge. You knew sometimes playful taunts could pull him out of his darkness, but instead he just shook his head.

“I think I would prefer to be alone tonight. Your presence is not needed.” He stood up from the table and walked to his reading chair where he plopped down. Normally, you would have obliged and left, but something was nagging at the back of your mind. A silent command. Stay.

You rose from your seat and slowly made your way towards him. He watched you move closer, his weary eyes seemed to brighten as you took your seat across from him at the edge of his bed. “Something is troubling you,” you say softly, “Please, let me help you.” Loki’s face became unbearably soft as he looked at you with complete tenderness. “You can’t. I’m haunted… the things I’ve done…” he placed his head in his hands and shuddered.

“Loki,” you said gently as you reached over and placed a hand on his knee, “I think it’s time you told me about New York.” Loki lifted his head to look at you. He looked pained at the mention of his biggest failure. He had refused to mention it, and you had been careful to avoid the subject. But you couldn’t stand to see him so broken. Maybe if he talked about it…

“If I told you what happened,” he began slowly. He took your hand off of his knee and held it in his hand gently, looking at it rather than you, using the tips of his fingers to trace the lines on your palm, “you might very well hate me.” A shiver ran down your spine as he touched you. He looked up at you again, his tired eyes searched yours.

“Would it matter if I did?” You asked. Loki gave a shaky laugh, “Perhaps not, but I don’t want this to be the story that scares you away. I was actually starting to enjoy your company.”

You felt a lump in your throat. "I told you before... I am not easily frightened." Loki realized there was no swaying you, or perhaps he needed the outlet. Maybe he could no longer hold back the secrets that haunted him.

He let go of your hand, almost unwillingly, and watched as you slowly pulled it back to rest in your lap. He took a ragged breath, waiting a moment, as if to savor the last moment of normalcy between the two of you. A part of you feared what his story entailed. What had truly happened on Earth?

~

After he finished his story, he finally looked up at you to gage your reaction. You had your hands balled into fists, and they trembled slightly in your lap. Loki noticed them immediately and his face went a little slack. "I'm sorry," he muttered. You blinked at his words. "Sorry? Loki—" you struggled to find the words. A million thoughts were racing through your mind, making you almost dizzy as you tried to formulate a response.

Before you could do so, Loki rose from his chair and began to pace the room. "I realize it's too late for apologies, for all of the wrongs I've done, but you wanted the truth and there it is. I am a monster. A frost giant dressed up as a Prince, an unworthy son, a villain— I am all of those things, and look at you now. Scared of me for it."

"Scared?" You demanded. "You think I'm scared of you? Loki," you stood up from where you were sitting and stepped towards him until he stood only a foot away. "Loki, I am angry for you." Loki was the one to blink in surprise this time. "What?" he gawked. “You were lied to… your whole life. Pitted against your brother for something so trivial as a throne…” You shook your head at the thought of Loki’s story. How much pain had Odin caused? “And then there’s Earth…” You took a step closer to Loki, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him.

"Loki—Thanos tortured you, manipulated you into overtaking Earth for him... How can you not see that?" Loki remained silent as you continued. "He should be here in these cells, rotting away for his crimes, not you. If you told Odin, maybe he would-"

"NO!" Loki shouted, "My father cannot know about Thanos. You have no idea what the Titan is capable of y/n, he would bring his armies to destroy Asgard." You threw up your hands in frustration. "But this may be the very thing needed to set you free! Help Odin find Thanos, help lead Thor and his Avengers to him and let real justice be done. Your mother would see to it, I know she would. Anything that could grant you your freedom." Ideas flooded your head. Perhaps there was a way to free Loki from his prison. You didn't realize how much you wanted this to be a reality until now. But now you had all of the facts. Loki did not act alone. Loki was not the one to be facing punishment.

"Don't," Loki croaked in front of you. You stilled for a moment, the hope that was rising through your chest was sharply cut off by the look on his face. He had no intention of fighting. "It is kind of you to have such sympathy for me, but it is undeserved. Thanos might have had a hand in the siege of Earth, but it was my hand that held the scepter, my hand that took those lives. And I will not risk losing Asgard by provoking Thanos any further than I already have. My mere presence here is damming enough."

“And so what, you’re just going to stay here? Locked away for the rest of your life? Is that what you want?” You asked incredulously. Loki just gave a dry laugh. “I hardly get what I want,” he looked at you, his eyes glimmered for a moment as he searched your face, “But believe me, it’s what I deserve.”

You crossed your arms in defiance. You couldn’t believe how easily he was willing to just give up. He noticed your posture and flashed a small smile. “Such a fiery thing,” he mused. He held out his hand toward you, and slowly you slipped your hand into his as he pulled you towards his living area. He motioned for you to sit down in his armchair as he slid into his bed. “Let’s not end the night with us bickering. Come, I’ll read to you a while before you leave.”

He pulled out a book from his shelf and began to dip through the pages. You let yourself relax a bit in the chair. If he didn’t want to talk about it anymore tonight, fine. But you had no intentions of keeping quiet once you left this cell. “What would you want?” You asked softly. Loki arched his brows at the question. “You said before that you hardly ever get what you want. So what would you want? What’s something I can do?” Playfulness danced in his eyes. “I could think of a few things that you could do,” he murmured, a grin inching across his face. You rolled your eyes, and ignored the flush of your cheeks.

Loki’s face softened, and the mischievous demeanor slipped away. “If I could have anything,” he began slowly, taking care to articulate his words almost as if he were nervous. “I wouldn’t want to be alone tonight. You can’t imagine how— eerie this place feels at night. It can be soul crushing.” You blinked at him. He seemed serious in his words, and your heart lurched a bit in your chest. This was something you could do. You rose from the chair and hurried across the room to the cell door. You turned to Loki, your breathing uneven as you enacted your plan. “I’ll return soon, trust me.” He just gave you a small confused nod of his head as you slipped out of the cell.

~

Returning had been as difficult as you imagined. First, you had your daily check in with Frigga. She asked about Loki, and if he needed any more books, or clothes, even if he enjoyed the food. She had been pleased to hear that you joined him for meals, that you treated him as an actual person. You wanted to tell her everything that Loki had relayed to you, but now was not the time. You had made a promise.

Sneaking back into the cell was another matter. You had to wait for the guard change during lights out to slip back into the cell. You were careful to not knock anything over in the dark as you stumbled toward Loki’s room. “Loki—“ you began to say as your foot snagged on a edge of a rug. Hands were holding you before you could even Yelp, steadying you in the darkness. “You came,” Loki’s low voice hummed in your ear. “I said I would.”

Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness in the room. Loki had been right. It was eerie here at night. You imagined how being alone with your thoughts in this kind of darkness could lead someone to madness. Loki kept a hand on your shoulder as you felt around for the bed. You had returned in your nightwear, wrapping a dark cloak around yourself as you snuck through the castle. You removed the cloak and inched your way into Loki’s bed, ignoring the pounding in your head as you did so. You felt him lay beside you, the heat of him warmed your side as you stared blankly into the darkness. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“I could get in trouble for this,” you replied in the same hushed whisper, “They might throw me in one of these cells if they catch me.” You felt Loki laugh beside you. It was odd to be so close to him, especially in the engulfing darkness. It felt like energy buzzed around you. As if you were in a vacuum of space, floating along aimlessly in the darkness. At least you weren’t alone.

“How could you get in trouble? Clearly, you were seduced by the imprisoned prince with his quick words and stunning looks. After tending to me every day, it was only inevitable that you would fall victim to my charm.” This time you found yourself laughing, taking care to cover your mouth as you did so. “I guess that would be the easier explanation as to why they’ll find me in your bed,” you teased. You let your hand fall from your mouth back to your side, but accidentally put it in top on Loki’s. At first you went to move it immediately, but stopped when you felt the curve of his fingers hook around yours.

“Loki-“ you warned. “What is that song you’re always humming?” Loki asked quietly, letting his hand wrap around yours. His fingers intertwined with yours and you did not pull away. “It’s a lullaby,” you finally respond, “my mother would sing it to me as a child. It calms me.” Loki strummed his thumb over your hand but did not move outside of that. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you stared into the darkness. “While I am making a habit of being selfish tonight, can I ask one more thing of you?” Loki asked.

“Sure,” you whispered, feeling your voice choke up in your throat. “Would you hum it— the song?” You smirked in the darkness. “I thought you said it was incessant noise?” Loki just gave a small chuckle. “Perhaps it’s grown on me,” he murmured, “your silly little song.” Your eyelids felt droopy. The only thing that reminded you that you were awake was the soft touch of Loki’s hand in yours. You smiled, knowing he couldn’t see you and began to hum. You hummed until Loki’s breathing slowed into a soft rhythm, and his hand stilled in yours. You hummed until the darkness over took your senses, and your head nestled into the crook of the Prince’s neck.

#fem reader #reader x marvel #marvel fanfic club #marvel #loki fluff #reader x loki #mcu loki #mcu fanfiction #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #loki #loki x you #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki and you #loki marvel

[celluifleur]

fictional men: *murders millions and is a literal war criminal"

tumblr girls: "i can fix him<3"

#luke castellan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #anakin x reader #loki x reader #relatable #i'm just a girl #i can fix him #percy jackson #luke castellan #anakin skywalker #aot #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow

[welovelouisandbucky]

Me: *gets periods* *sighs*

Also me: *searches x reader period fics on Tumblr/ao3*

#incorrect quotes #harry potter #marauders #james potter #y/n incorrect quotes #wolfstar #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #loki x reader #bucky barns x reader #harry potter x reader #cedric diggory x reader #spencer reid x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #period fic #comfort

[realangelahernandez]

Go to therapy or read another fan fiction of your favorite fictional character?

#read another fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #tony stark x reader #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #thor x reader #Peter Parker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #kylo x reader #spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotch x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #billy Hargrove x reader #jonathan byers x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #robin buckley x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #finnick odair x reader #peeta mellark x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #ethan landry x reader #why did you scroll all the way down here???

[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

[hotboy-hottub]

What if I was to hnggggggggg publish three chapters of a loki x fem reader fanfic?

Honestly life is good, I feel like im splashing about in fandom space and it feels so good to just be stretching my creative muscles so indulgently it feels like dancing

#loki (marvel) #loki art #loki fanart #loki odinson #reader x loki #loki fanfction #loki x reader #loki x oc

[catastrxblues]

i love ao3 but tumblr fanfics just hit different 😩😩

#i’m not saying it just to say it #it’s a fact #i speak only the truth #you fanfic writers are geniuses #james potter x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #ron weasley x reader #remus lupin x reader #marc spector x reader #loki x reader #sirius black x reader #steven grant x reader #percy jackson x reader #harry potter x reader #steve rogers x reader #did i just expose myself on how i chose to use this silly little website every now and then 🫣 #these are my lifelines tho so <33 #esp the angsty ones #nadirants

[angelltheninth]

Denial but with a muzzle on so he goes crazy because he wants to taste you, lick you, kiss you, suck everywhere he can. You can see he's losing his mind with the desire, drooling from it, cheeks flushed, hips bucking, cock pulsing and leaking because he's came so many times already but hasn't been able to get a single kiss yet.

Kiba, InuYasha, Astarion, Zhongli, Itto, Wriotheslay, Blade, Dan Heng, Miguel, Loki + your faves

#kiba x reader #inuyasha x reader #astarion x reader #zhongli x reader #itto x reader #wriothesley x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #miguel x reader #loki x reader #kiba smut #inuyasha smut #astarion smut #zhongli smut #itto smut #wriothesley smut #blade smut #dan heng smut #miguel smut #loki smut #smut drabble #smut thoughts #x reader