feistynighean16

[feistynighean16]

[feistynighean16]

Reworked, updated, edited, spelling mistakes corrected pt. 2.

Unexpected Disclosure

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Genre: fighting scenes, swearing, Loki's humour, darkness, partly-soft Loki, smut/fluff, oral satisfaction

Words: 4,7k

Summary: Being one of the most skilled members of Alfheim coven, you had been chosen to retreive the artifacts which had been stolen. The God of mischief had accompanied your prior missions several times, becoming the essential companion. This time, his actions were taken further than you were used to.

Leather straps around your legs tightened as you crouched down to tie your heavy boots. It was harder for there were safety pads along your calves. You hung several sand grenades on those straps and secured them. You spent a few minutes sharpening the daggers which you hid in your belt and boots. 

You had been an honourable member of the greatest coven in Alfheim for over four hundred years, nearly since you were born. Your parents made immense sacrifices, such as leaving their families and having to promise Freya the ultimate devotion to be Her servants. Although you were born as a halfling, your enchanting and fighting abilities could become equal to the strongest elves in the realm. 

Your primary weapon had always been a long and light sword made from silver, and its handle made from the skin of a poisonous grey snake. It fitted your hand perfectly, as if it was made exactly for you. There were also magical runes encarved in its blade, each of them meaning various creatures protection.

The coven was requested to send its most powerful and skilled mages and enchantresses to the realm of Muspelheim. The artefact consisting of three crystal pebble stones, enabling uninterrupted transmissions through the universe for discussing secret information, went missing, later it was revealed that the exact location was in Muspelheim, in a restricted temple in the centre of a dried sea, closely guarded. The coven was apparently the only one to fulfil the dangerous mission. All the highly positioned members were not really amused by the idea; however, it was an opportunity to uplift the eternal respect and show the gods in Asgard the strength that lied within. 

You were among the lucky ones who got chosen to complete the task. Your training prepared you for something similar, and you were excited to put your knowledge in action. You wanted to prove to the whole Alfheim you were not to be played with. 

You put on your leather gloves, scraped off in several places due to long training in the wild.

It was announced that someone far gifted was going to accompany your group in order to secure more safety. That someone special had been joining confidential missions for centuries, so it was not a surprise he would be doing so this time.

Asgard had closely been cooperating with Alfheim, ensuring the unspoken peace. Undoubtedly, he was the most talented and most powerful sorcerer in all Nine Realms, the coven appreciated his skills and experience, nevertheless his immense willingness radiating from his face.

You put on a long, dark blue cape to hide your sword and adjusted the metal piece of your armour embracing your chest. The tall door opened at your command, and you strode to the area in front of the academy. You were about to take off to Muspelheim in bulletproof aircraft for the habitants could sense your presence if you had used portals drawing the magical power. And you could not risk being caught in the very beginning.

All four of you who were chosen earned a quick and respectful nod from the Highest Mages and Enchantresses, your headmaster patting you on the shoulder. You felt somewhat strange, but rightfully so. Muspelheim was known for hell-looking creatures, possessing power like no other. 

Despite all possible obstacles getting in your way, it was an undying thrill every time. You were addicted to adrenaline rushing through your veins when you had to breathe slowly, predict every movement from your enemy, use your magical power when it was difficult to beat them with your combat skills, and eventually stab your divine blade into a quivering part of their body, bringing you satisfaction and will to carry on. You could not get enough of it, as if all of that was a drug you could not easily give up. 

Your parents had seen in you their little angel ever since you were born, but as the time fled, something dreadful was shaping up in you, rotten more like. You were not aware of that until you started to learn about various ways of killing in the academy. Although it was not as profound, you were doing your own research. You were interested, captivated by how your body could end something so vivid. Your core was deteriorating slowly, darkening your senses and enigmatically changing itself.

Your halfling qualities had combined into a killing machine, leaving only a snippet of humanity which only one being had been preserving in you.

The aircraft’s entrance invited you inside, revealing five empty seats ready for passengers. You chose the one closer to the pilot. As you were belting yourself, you noticed the honoured company was nowhere in sight. With loud screeching noise, the aircraft took off in the direction of Muspelheim.

…

After the aircraft had landed, you stepped on the hardened magma which constituted the ground. The air was muggy, you felt the sweat building on your forehead. There were huge stones around you, creating perfect locations to hide. You looked up to the orange sky, hoping for a fresh breeze.

Nothing. Just increasing heat and insufferable sultry weather. 

‘Shall we split up and explore the area?’ Dagny asked. She was one of the trackers, and a skilful warrior, as every elven you had had a chance to train alongside. She tapped on her ear, implying to be alert. You nodded and put your hands on the daggers attached to the belt. 

You were approaching the shore which was now covered with large stones. You quickly crouched down and hid behind it. A few hundred metres away, you spotted several units of creatures, resembling guards with dreadful horns, their heavy armours with sharp spikes, armed with gigantic otherworldly axes, surrounding the temple in which apparently the crystals should have been located, though the temple was not abandoned – you could see the lines of those creatures marching from side to side, inspecting every little unusual movement. Prior missions had taught you that there was always more than met the eye.

You had taken a few breaths before you sneaked closer behind a larger stone. You cursed under your breath when your leg got stuck between two cobbles. Sharp pain passed through your ankle. With gritted teeth, trying not to make a noise to attract the attention of nearby guards, you moved your leg slowly. However, how you were trying to yank it out, the cobbles, falling on each other, made quite a commotion. The guards abruptly turned to the noise and you had to hold yourself steady not to reveal your hiding. Your fingers were slipping on the surface of the stone, you felt your sword screeching against it. You closed your eyes, preparing for a fight which could burst out any second.

Suddenly, you felt a strange breeze. Your eyes quickly opened and focused on an arising fog. Firstly, it rose and settled on the ground, playing all sorts of colours. When you saw a tall figure appearing, you immediately knew your cover was blown.

‘Bloody Loki,’ you muttered under your breath and took the sword into your trembling hand. 

He emerged from the fog, looking around to inspect where he landed. His narrowed eyes watched the approaching guards heading to your position. A lethargic, almost fed-up look appeared on his face, deepening a little crinkle between his eyebrows.

‘I wanted you to drop me off in the temple over there, Heimdall! How am I supposed to get there by myself?!’ He shouted into the sky, rolling his eyes. 

Not waiting for the death which he would have brought on you, you yanked your leg out, and rushed in front of him, firmly clenching your sword. In a glimpse, you severed the horrendous head of the closest creature, dark liquid streaming from its body. He was watching you from a distance, brooding over whether he would flee or join you. There were five creatures trying to trap you in between them, with their axes dangerously flaming. You tossed one of the sand grenades on the ground in the centre while your fingers aligned in order to cast a spell. The tips of your fingers sparkled with dark blue colour. The grenade activated itself causing an extensive sand explosion covering the area around you. As it was blinding the creatures, you could easily attack other approaching ones without having to cover your eyes due to the spell. 

‘Help me, will you, or am I supposed to drudge it all by myself, Your Highness?!’ You shouted irritated at him while thrusting the blade into the back of the creature confusingly watching what the grenade was capable of. Without another word, two daggers ended up in the faces of two creatures creeping behind your back.

Over the past two hundred years, you had many opportunities to fight beside the Asgardian Gods, mainly beside Loki because of the sorcery training you had been going through all your life. Although the Asgardian strength was based on the muscles of warriors, the heads with which you carried out the most powerful spells were essential. And you had to admit, Loki was the Master of It.

His body moved so effortlessly between each blow, predicting the following ones, so he would stop them in the beginning. A slick smile was never leaving his face while the blades of his two daggers were pinning down his enemies. Seldom his magic abilities were left unused – when he did not use them to attack, he used them to confuse and deceive. It was his specialty after all.

You were in awe of his capability every time even though it made you envious. You knew you were good, would be better with time, but never as powerful as him. 

But now you were pissed, almost seeing red because it was another time he did not abide by the instructions. 

There were a few creatures left in this unit to fight off. You were swiftly making your way with the sword while he was using his daggers. For a moment, your backs were touching as the creatures pushed you in the centre. You felt a spark running through your bones and making you shiver. The adrenaline in your veins rose and rose, sharpening your senses until you could hear the movements how your eyelashes fluttered. You kicked the last remaining creature in front of you to his head and turned to Loki.

‘Was Your Highness acquainted with the no-magic instructions? We could have been doomed right from the start!’ You grumbled crossly at him, as the thrill was winding down. You put your sword back into the casing on your back and adjusted your gloves.

‘By the time I got to Alfheim, you all were already gone. It is certainly not in my power to control the punctuality of you Alfheim people. And it was not that serious as you make it seem, darling. Just a few…bulky oaves,’ he kicked the arm of one of the creatures hazily, its horns scraping against the stone ground. His emerald eyes were curiously scrutinising your complexion while his raven hair, slightly wet with sweat, were laid on his shoulders. ‘Nothing that could suprise you, was it not?’

The fury was building inside of you like a boiling pot.

‘First of all, do not call me darling again. Second of all, you basically blew my cover, thank you for that dearly,’ you rolled your eyes and looked over the bodies lying around. You crouched down and searched through the armour.

‘I deeply apologise for being kind,’ he murmured to himself dryly, feeling his eyes piercing your back, ‘and you are welcome, your cover would have been blown anyway if you had proceeded with playing with those cobbles. Were you planning on scaring them off at least?’

‘Of course I was, and on skipping stones against the dried sea surface,’ you uttered dryly and stood up.

‘And they say Alfheim elves are honest, hardworking creatures...I have got a slothful slug here apparently,’ he let out a feigned sigh of disappointment and put his hands at his sides.

‘Oh hush, Loki. Halflings are slugs now?’

‘Your words, not mine,’ he replied defensively behind your back whilst you tried to find out the easiest way to the temple in the vast depression.

‘Have you ever been to Muspelheim?’

‘More times than I can remember actually,’ he said matter-of-factly as you were about to turn around the tallest stone. You stopped in tracks and turned to face him with a questionable look.

‘And do you not happen to know the way in, do you?’

‘I thought you had clear instructions, darling, I suppose not that clear. I was wondering why you were taking the longest path,’ your vision went black with fury. This was the mission which could change everything, how everyone perceived you. You longed for respect from Higher Mages, who could provide you with more opportunities. You longed not to let your parents down if you failed. 

‘Listen, darling,’ you stepped closer until you had to tilt your head to look him in the eyes, ‘I would love to keep on bickering with you and finding out things I would have appreciated earlier, but there are missing crystals which my coven needs back,’ your eyes studied his complexion now. He was not breaking eye contact, slowly raising one eyebrow in interest, ‘and you are making it hard for me not to shove one of your daggers in your throat.’

His eyebrows shot upwards in astonishment and interest.

‘You know, I would love to see you execute that, but would the High Mages though?’ You bit the inside of your cheek and gulped down. He stared at you menacingly, a sly smirk playing on his mouth.

‘Do not fuck this up, or Your Highness will face the consequences,’ you whispered and brushed his side as you strode past him in the direction of the temple. 

‘A sluggish halfling threatening the only God of Mischief?’ He laughed wholeheartedly, ‘do not forget who has the upper hand, darling.’

…

You made your way to a wall behind which you hid. You spotted your other companions hiding nearby, but the gifted one got lost somewhere on the way.

As you scrutinised the area, you noticed the absence of the creatures. It made you suspicious, however, it was now easier to enter the temple. You gestured to Dagny if it was safe to enter. After her nod, with another scrutinising look around, you ran into the temple.

You were astounded by a fresh breeze blowing in your face. The cold walls were preserving breathable air which stimulated your senses. What you did not expect was a completely empty hallway. You stopped in your tracks, confusingly searching every corner for anything looking out of place. There was nothing other than collapsed columns and a mess of fast abandonment. You gestured to your companions and moved your feet to the open space on your left. Crouching down, your fingertips sparkled again, this time to uncover any movement, if there was any.

That is odd, you thought. You sensed a magical activity nearby, but also another one coming from the same source.

Your companions had split up to explore a larger area, and you chose to go left through the arch. With your sword steady in your hands, you leaped through it, only to realise there was a silence, indicating no presence of anyone. You furrowed your eyebrows bafflingly. 

And then it hit you – illusion. 

Without thinking over, your fingertips sparkled. Suddenly, you were surrounded by numerous, better armoured creatures with blazing eyes hurling at you. An arrow whizzed above your head, almost piercing your shoulder if you would not have bent down fast.

You attacked one of the tall creatures holding a heavy chain, jumping on his shoulders and slitting his throat. Another one grabbed you by your foot, you fell on the ground, your metal chest piece screeching against the stones. Turning on your back, you took out one of the daggers from the belt and threw it. Its sharp blade stabbed him into the exposed area under his helmet, and a shower of dark liquid splashed his hands while he was trying to put pressure on it. You seized the opportunity and grabbed the sword lying nearby to cut off his arm.

The urge to proceed with the slaughter was overpowering you, however, your will was stronger. You needed to remember why you came here.

You hid behind one of the large columns made from cold magma, observing the situation. Two groups of creatures were blocking the entrance, where you assumed the presence of the crystals. One of the groups was engaged in a heated fight with someone you could not see clearly. They were obviously struggling to fight them off, and as you saw the other group approaching, you made a decision.

With narrowed eyes and resolved mind, you used another grenade to clear the way. Creatures’ bodies simultaneously dropped down, enabling you a free path ahead. You pulled out the sword and ran your fingers over the runes to activate them. Around the blade appeared a violet light. 

You cut the creature not facing you over its broad back, leaving a slash. It growled and it was easier for you to slip under its legs. When you were in the middle, you started to turn in a circle, your sword meeting the guts of three creatures. You looked up.

The figure fighting the masses was Loki. His elegant movements drew your attention, how his eyes glistened with determination, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. The thrill was slowly transforming into admiration, and you had to remember how to breathe again. 

Composing yourself, you hurled beside him. He gave you a quick glance before kicking a creature in its chest.

‘Took you long enough to join me there, darling,’ he said when you did a pirouette to block one of the creatures’ blows.  

‘You do not seem to be harmed so I am perfectly on time,’ you replied, crouching down to dodge the fist flying at your head. Twisting the creature’s arm, you heard a painful crack, and your back crashed into something hard. 

‘Already closing the distance between us? Y/N, unfortunately it is not the right time,’ he chuckled as he threw one of the daggers. You had to roll your eyes at his remark.

‘Do not flatter yourself so much, Loki. Even these wretches would have a better chance than you,’ with gritted teeth, you cut off the mentioned creature a leg.

‘No, it wo–’ he could not finish his answer. You felt the absence of pressure on your back. You turned to him expectantly, but you found him in the arms of a giant creature, more horrendous and hideous, squeezing his neck. Your pupils dilated in horror when you saw him hanging there like a puppet, gasping for air. At that moment your mind focused on one thing – saving him from the claws of that brute.

Seeing red, you lashed around with the sword. You pulled out the last remaining dagger in your boot, and you threw it on the giant. It brushed past its arm, but it did not care, its priority was Loki’s neck. Your grip on the sword tightened, and you ran to the giant, attacking his calves. The blade left a clean cut on both of the calves, making the giant scream in pain. It fell on his knees, throwing Loki’s lifeless body aside. With your adrenaline blended with fury, you jumped and thrusted the sword into the giant’s chest, twisting it to ensure it would not move again. As you made sure it was not going to stand up ever again, you sprinted to Loki.

You kneeled beside him, putting your ear above his mouth to check if he was breathing, hoping deep down he would. You felt the panic and pressure in your chest rising.

‘No, no, no, no. Stop playing with me, Loki,’ you whispered, feeling your eyes filling with tears. However, the effort was useless, the shade of blue which was all over his head from the lack of oxygen indicated he was completely gone. You removed a few strands of his raven hair from his face with trembling hands. His always-smirking complexion was now idle, without a hint of a future biting remark.

‘If only you would not have always been so annoyingly cocky. Oh Loki…’ you needed to vent out your frustration. Even when you were too stubborn, it was a pleasure to feel his presence, sometimes troublesome. Your admiration for him grew bigger and bigger with each time you met, you needed him around you. He was becoming your second addiction.

‘Look where your big mouth got you, you idiot,’ you chuckled helplessly and wiped off your tears away. As you were smoothing the straps on his armour, taking his appearance in for the last time, you heard steps behind you.

‘Well…they do not call me Silvertongue for nothing.’

The voice filled the empty room, leaving you stunned. You slowly turned to the voice, only to find the same figure which you saw die in the giant’s arms, staring at you. He was leaning against one of the columns, hands crossed on his chest, with his eyes studying your crouched position. And his signature smirk playing on his lips. You were silent for a moment, before your hands started to quiver, this time from building anger.

‘...are you fucking kidding me,’ you said through gritted teeth. You turned back to the lying figure which suddenly vanished, and took a deep breath.

Duplication casting.

‘Did you really think I would let this...abomination defeat me?’ He sounded surprised when he watched you wiping the tears away more urgently.

‘Did I? Yes, I did for God's sake. I should have recognised your fake replica right away, should I not?!’ You quickly pulled out the dagger from your belt, and threw it in his direction, completely beside yourself. If he had not moved his head away, the dagger would have stabbed his neck.

‘Careful there, you almost stabbed the original.’

‘Is it not another trick, though? How many of you are there, hm? Show yourselves!’ You strode to him, anger propelling your legs. You were not angry mostly at him, but at yourself. You let your feelings cloud your judgement. You stopped in front of him, piercing your eyes into his, biting the sides of your cheeks. You thought he would be making fun of you, however, he was standing there, searching for something in your eyes. 

‘I can assure you I am the one and only Loki, in this universe at least.’

‘And how can you prove that? Have yourself killed again, and never return this time?!’ You were a few inches from his face, fuming, not really caring about the tears running down your cheeks.

‘You pathetic idiot,’ the idea of him fading from your eyes drove you crazy. Yes, you understood the thrill of being on the verge of death. But accompanying and fighting alongside him, tolerating his mocking manners and him getting on your nerves…you could not live without any of that. He was the only thing that was preserving the residue of humanity inside you. 

And the residue kept you sane. 

All of the sudden, he drew you closer by your neck, and kissed you fiercely, putting all his words of compassion into the kiss. You were startled, not knowing what to do, sparkles flashing through your limbs and body. He pulled away just so that your noses were touching, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

‘Do not ever do that to me again,’ you whispered, and he chuckled. 

‘If it causes you to be worried about me, I might have to think about it,’ he narrowed his eyes, teasing you, at which you rolled your eyes. 

‘Oh, fuck you, Loki.’

‘I have wished for you to do that for a few decades now.’

In a second, the previous feeling of gratefulness was gone. It was replaced by something you would have only dreamt about. Your eyes stared into his in anticipation. You could not hear anything; you could only stare into his eyes. Your hand stretched out to touch his cheek tenderly, exploring every wrinkle around his eye, around his lips, the dimples which made you weak in the knees. 

Your fingers brushed his locks away from his face, you stood on your tiptoes, and whispered: ‘Against this column, or you fancy bending me over the stone?’

As if on command, he grabbed you by the waist, attacked your lips and tightened the grip. You gasped and tangled your fingers into his hair. His lips travelled hungrily along your jaw, to your earlobe, and down your neck. He lifted your leg to his waist, tracing his hand to your buttocks, and squeezing them. You moaned loudly, at which he bit your sensitive skin on your neck. Dozens of little sparks flashed through your body, wanting more.

You guided his lips to yours again, now biting his lower lip, your hands sliding down his neck to his chest covered in metal armour piece cooling your heated skin. He lifted you up without breaking the kiss. You could not figure out where he was taking you, but your back hit something solid. He pressed on you with his whole weight, pinning you to the surface. You could feel through the leather pants his rising arousal. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he sucked the vulnerable spot under your ear. 

I cannot hold back anymore, darling.

Hearing his voice inside your head made you revved up, heavy, and satisfied. As a result, you pressed on him, a loud moan leaving your throat. 

So do not.

His eyes looked up to you, now dark as an emerald in moon light. 

He let go of you, putting you back on the ground, and crouched down. His hands scrutinised your pants, every strap, every hook, every buckle. And with one swift motion, and snap of his fingers, your pants were on the ground torn apart. You gasped when he lifted your leg and hung it over his shoulder, laying wet kisses up your inner thighs. You needed to grab onto something, so you tangled your fingers in his raven locks, gently tugging at it when it felt too intense. 

His fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, slowly taking them off. You felt cold air blown on you which made you shiver. His lips slid between your folds, with his tongue examining how hot you were. Your knees weakened, barely holding on. The speed of his tongue increased, leaving you gasping for air. Your legs started to tremble, and your breath was shallow. Suddenly, your back arched, giving him more space to dance between your folds with his tongue. He added his thumb to stimulate your clit which was your ultimate peak. You roughly tugged his hair when you came, him catching every drop of you into his mouth.

Why have you been hiding from me all this time?

When he placed one last kiss to your opening, you were left completely breathless.

All you needed to do was ask, Loki.

The pressure against your body returned, with his lips on yours again. You quickly put your palms on his buttocks and pulled him close, hearing a surprised gasp. Now, without two pieces of fabric, his arousal was more noticeable, satisfying your expectation. 

His combat pants were less intricate than yours, so it was easier to take them off. He let you do whatever you wanted for a while. You grabbed his cock with one hand, sliding down and up along his length. He moaned in your ear, fuelling your excitement. Your fingers circled on his tip, making him harder, the veins throbbing against your palm. You looked up to his face. He was breathing heavily with parted lips and shutting his eyes close. You planted a kiss on the corner of his lips, starting to pump him. He growled and ruffled his hair with both of his hands, frustrated.

Unfortunately, he did not let you finish him. Abruptly opening his eyes, he lifted you up, pressed you against the surface again, and slowly inserted himself inside you without breaking eye contact.

‘Let me see you taking me,’ he growled as he watched you melting under his touch, firmly holding on to his nape, getting used to him. How divine he felt. Several moans escaped your lips, while he fit inside you like you were especially made for him. Your walls clenched around him, making him tilt his head.

He started to lift you up, and then back down, sending sensation all over your body. 

‘Loki...’ He smiled at the mention of his name, indicating he was pleasing you correctly, just how he intended.

He increased the speed. Sweat was beginning to build on your foreheads, moans becoming louder and frequent. His cape started to irritate you when you could not feel his skin on yours. With your fingers sparkling, his armour fell down, alongside yours. He glanced at you, surprisingly, but afterwards he appreciated it. Now you were touching chest to chest, heat on heat. You were digging your nails into his back when you felt you were about to come. He traced his fingers on your back, exploring every part of your skin, and hid his head in the crook of your neck, gently biting you without slowing down.

Screaming his name, your limbs trembled uncontrollably, and your mind went blank. He came seconds after you, slowing just to work off your highs. Still pressed against the solid surface, you looked him in the eyes, tiredly narrowed, but tenderly watching your expression. You removed one strand of his hair from his face to kiss him, letting him know every unspoken word of delight. 

‘If these were the consequences I needed to face, then I am absolutely certain I am going to fuck up multiple times from now on.’

Last updated: 17th August 2023

[feistynighean16]

Reworked, updated, edited, spelling mistakes corrected.

Playing with Fire

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Genre: smut, timeline before Thor (2011), teasing, oral satisfaction, mentions of BDSM, very chatty Loki, power-play

Words: 4,2k

Summary: As a representative of your clan, you are chosen to attend the annual convention at the residence in Asgard. Everything has a fast cadence when you are asked to dance with the God of mischief.

The drapes lazily moved when the asgardian autumn wind blew into your chamber. Your skin covered itself in goosebumps as you were stepping out of your bath and your servant handed you a silk sheet to wrap yourself up. The rose scent melted into the air, it was your significant mark.

This year, you were chosen to attend the annual and glorious convention where all the clan representatives meet and raise their concerns. From your mother’s narration, concerns are never heard because, according to Asgardians, entertainment is essential for all’s well-being. It is an opportunity to explore the residence Norse gods live in. 

Your servant brought you the attire in your clan’s colours – silver feathers around the neckline, black corset and tight-fitting skirt with thigh slit, modestly revealing garnets.

On the one hand, being the eldest child gave you many opportunities, on the other hand, also many responsibilities. You were raised to become a future owner of your family’s three-floor mansion, a future Jarl whom everyone would respect as an equal. There was always a hint of leadership in your blood, a drop of slick strong-mindedness taking you to everywhere you wanted. Whether it demanded fairness or not. 

You let your servant braid your hair while you were curling your lashes. 

The image of walking down the magnificent hallways intrigued you. Enormous power laying in those walls gave you chills you did not want to shrug off. 

You stood up, smoothing your skirt, and waved your servant off. She kindly made a bow and left your chamber. Scrutinizing your look in the mirror, you gave yourself a few compliments and encouragement for patience for you were sure you were going to need it.

…

Arriving at the residence made you a bit anxious, but determined. Your people’s respect for you would surely increase when their ears heard you had met the other Jarls, and perhaps had negotiated some useful deals for a future cooperation.

You held your head high and stepped graciously into the massive hall. There were two long dining tables full of Asgard’s most delicious dishes. There were portraits of the Gods in random acts and positions on the high walls. In between them were gold intricate candelabras. You were offered a welcome drink which you gladly accepted.

The hall was already filled with Jarls, recognizing and greeting some of them. You participated in a few almost similar small talks, which contained seldom hatred and angst against other Jarls. You found yourself feeling like a snake – slithering from Jarl to Jarl, listening and partly agreeing to some falsely proven allegations. It was an advantage though; you never knew when it would come in handy.

There was someone you did not recognize. He did not belong to any known clan or so you thought. He was talking passionately about something with a group of people, charming them. You narrowed your eyes and sneaked up closer just as much as you could hear him. 

‘...and it was a wild boar which stole it! I swear to the Norns!’ People surrounding him broke into an abrupt laughter. You needed to roll your eyes. Typical competition among Asgardian men – overtaking themselves in dangerous animals which they had taken down. And you thought he was worth listening.

The sound of horn caught everyone’s attention.

Through a massive door entered Ódin, after him Frigga. They nodded to the crowd and sat down on the thrones. After a while, their eldest son Thor, entered as well with a big smile on his face.

You expected the second son to enter, but nothing happened. By the expression on other’s faces, it was no surprise. 

‘Welcome, welcome, Jarls and friends, on another annual convention of Asgard. I hope you all have had a peaceful journey,’ Ódin addressed the crowded hall and everyone, including you, made a bow. Ódin’s eyes were filled with concern, but his complexion remained relaxed. Frigga beside him patted Thor on the back with a smile, as he was examining the liquid in his jug.

‘We shall proceed with the reason we are all gathered here today. Therefore I am asking you: ‘Does anyone have any concerns regarding your clans, or Asgard?’’ Silence settled in the hall, no one moved, nor coughed. After an awkward time of silence, Ódin stood up.

‘In that case, let the feast begin!’ He spread out his arms and bards started to play a joyous melody while everyone proceeded in their earlier conversations.

You chuckled and downed your glass. Mother, you really were truthful.

…

Bards were playing at least a nineteenth song, people were chatting louder than before, and you felt your patience getting out of your hands after a few very insightful conversations about the latest hearsays. You needed to contain annoyed sighs and rolling your eyes. You thought it was going to be an exciting opportunity, not a memory of your distant uncle lying under the table completely passed out. Thor was among the people with whom your uncle competed in how many jugs can one gulp down.

You excused yourself from another riveting conversation and sneaked away. You felt someone’s eyes on your back, but you didn’t bother to inspect the source. You only wanted another glass and something to eat. You moved closer to the table with refreshments and helped yourself with a grape while watching the Asgardian nature through colossal windows.

‘Pardon me, madam, I believe I must have misheard your name,’ you had heard behind your back before you turned to the voice. 

‘Actually, you really have not,’ you replied coldly and realized to whom the voice belonged. It was the man you had not recognized earlier. His hazel eyes were curiously observing firstly your face, then his eyes dropped down to your cleavage, and stopped at the beginning of the slit. You raised an eyebrow.

‘In that case, allow me to introduce myself. I am Erik, the cousin of Jarl Knud from the Finnling clan,’ he took your hand and kissed it while maintaining eye contact. You felt a sudden flash of electricity beam in the place his lips touched your skin. 

‘I suppose it is my turn to reveal my name, mister Erik,’ you sipped from a glass and continued: ‘My name is Y/N, the daughter of Jarl Arne from the Kranling clan,’ you nodded respectfully, inspecting your companion.

He had long red hair and his beard was braided. He wore a fur collar, guessing from a sable, thrown over the shoulders, broadening them. You did not doubt his immense strength even though he took your hand so tenderly. But his smile felt somewhat…peculiar.

‘So mister Erik, did you think of an interesting matter to discuss when you felt the need to approach me?’ You did not plan to sound annoyed, but you eventually did.

‘Should I have? Is my presence not enough for your gracious sight, madam Y/N?’ He fired back, and you raised your eyebrow again. You noticed a slick smirk on his face as he was trying to catch you off guard. 

‘Of course not, mister Erik. It just seems to me like your presence would be appreciated somewhere else, that is all,’ you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

‘Are you saying you are not curious about how many trophies I own in my mansion, madam Y/N?’

‘And what if it was true what you are saying?’

‘You hurt my pride, madam Y/N. For your apology, I request the next dance with your graciousness,’ he smirked, and his audacity left you wordless.

‘I beg your pardon?’ You blinked, stunned. For a cousin of a clan you had not heard of in your life, his attitude did not live up to the persona he introduced himself as. His eyes scanned the room superficially, his lifted chin showed high upbringing and the way he talked was not amicable in the slightest.

‘There is no need to apologise, darling. Shall I take it as a yes, or is it an attempt of the Kranling clan disgracing the comradeship lasting for centuries?’ His eyes blazed with amusement. You looked around with caution to inspect whether someone had heard.

It is an ancient unwritten principle, but every dweller of Asgard respects the comradeship among clans. They are to help each other in need, share forces in war or trade stock. If this principle is broken by action or even one of the clans declares not being respected by the other, the accused one faces shame and, in the worst case, the Jarl is flogged and subsequently forced to resign and expelled from his own clan.

‘There are other ways to make me dance with you than endangering my clan, you know,’ you said under your breath only for him to hear.

‘Believe me, I could have used my own practices, but where would be the fun in that?’ He licked his lips and cocked one eyebrow mischievously at you. Annoyed, you let out a snort. As the following Jarl, you could not have allowed this accusation to be proven true. There was no hostility present during your conversation, irritation perhaps, but it would have been your fault if someone mentioned it. And by that time someone did, the flogged Jarl could be no other than you.

‘I presume I have not got a choice if I want to preserve my back without scars, have I?’

‘Your choice only indeed. Personally, I would not have enjoyed the sight of your smooth bare skin being butchered, I heard they use a rope with metal spikes,’ he clicked his tongue and narrowed eyes in feigned pain. ‘At least if it was not done by my hand.’

You turned to face him stunned, again, and surprised. The image of him standing behind you and lashing the rope sent chills down your spine, terrifying and intriguing.

‘And what would your hand use as a punishing device? The same rope, or a band perhaps?’ You prompted his thought curiously while touching his arm with your index finger. You locked eyes and he leaned closer.

‘There is only one correct answer,’ he whispered in your ear, ‘a leather strap.’

‘Are you skilled sufficiently with the leather strap, mister Erik?’ You continued in querying not minding the chills taking turns with electric jolts in excitement.

‘I am quite natural, darling,’ he whispered again and brushed his lips against your earlobe. ‘It is effective, and no one has made a complaint yet.’

He stepped back from you a few inches and inspected pleasingly the reaction he caused. You gulped down and felt the slight redness in your cheeks burning your skin.

‘What is your choice then? Shall I address Ódin, or your graciousness will obey to dance with me?’

He grinned down at you and his hazel eyes twinkled with newly gained supremacy. You took a deep breath and reevaluated your options. There were no options precisely, your stubborn nature wanted to fight against better judgment, but it eventually won.

‘Damn you, mister Erik.’

You took his offered hand and with your racing heart you let him lead you onto the reserved place in front of the bards. After you had stood in front of him, he put his right hand around your waist, and you put your left hand on his shoulder.

You could feel his eyes piercing into your soul, you tried to reciprocate, but you felt too small in his embrace. You were swaying in the partially cheerful melody across the dance floor. Your chests were nearly touching, although it was inadmissible for court decorum. Neither of you could care less. 

In one movement, you felt his left hand sliding lower on your back.

‘Observing the territory already, are you?’ You said teasingly. He snorted. His hand travelled across your back down and up until he gripped the back of your neck. This motion sucked out air from your lungs. He bit his lip and let go of your neck.

Away from the eyes on the thrones, his hand slid through the slit and touched your bare thigh, his large fingers tracing the line of the garnet. You hissed when the garnet snapped against the tickled skin.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and your mind was blank. His actions managed to leave you in doubt and possibly turned on the flight response, but somehow your body stayed clinged to his. However, the fight response did not abandon you yet.

Drawing his coat aside, your hand squeezed one of his cheeks. His unexpected moan and frozen posture made you grin with satisfaction.

As your eyes focused back on his face, your previous actions had consequences. Not only were you pressed against hard cock, but there was also something happening with his face.

His eyes flickered and changed colour to poisonous green. 

Caught in shock, you tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip tightened around your waist, pressing you harder.

Even his scent changed from thick musk to a pine smell mixed with leather.

‘You are a one feisty grace, darling,’ he whispered in your ear and slid his hand down your back to find the rim of your underpants. His eyes opened wide shockingly when there was none to be found. ‘I have worked on this disguise long enough apparently for it to crumble down with one inappropriate touch of yours.’

‘For what is worth, you deserve to take the beating for blackmailing me, mister Erik,’ you replied and licked the bulging vein on his neck. He moaned, this time a little bit louder. You pressed on him more eagerly and rubbed yourself on his attire, ‘or shall I call you Loki now?’

‘I...’ he whispered before closing his eyes momentarily. You grinned widely after his piercing green eyes looked down at you. Your skin was burning, slowly realizing who was touching you all this time, ‘I would prefer God of Mischief.’

‘Tsk tsk, Your Highness,’ you clicked your tongue unapprovingly, ‘red hair suits you better.’

‘You cannot be serious, too much ale must have clouded your spotless judgment,’ his eyes remained green, but his jawline began to flicker and transform.

‘And yet still made you lose your grip.’

‘Well, I am currently trying to get a grip on your corset if you will not mind,’ he smiled and started untying the back of your corset. You grabbed his hand and placed it back on your waist.

‘Your Highness, if anyone sees us, both of will be in trouble.’

‘Only you, darling. I will leave this hall still in disguise as mister Erik who had never existed in the first place,’ he said and let you twirl under his arm. After you returned to his embrace, you innocently slid your hand against his crotch. He growled and his hair had darkened for a quick moment before he composed himself again.

‘My deepest apologies, Your Highness. It seems I have rather fidgety hands this evening…’ you smirked as he gritted his teeth, ‘...I suppose mister Erik will not be able to walk out of here that easily.’

‘Madam Y/N, you are strikingly right, indeed. I believe it is time for us to go somewhere…more private to proceed with what we have started here, is it not?’ He looked around to find the way out of this hall.

‘Precisely, Your Highness,’ you agreed, anticipated and completely roused, ‘however, do you know of an exact place to execute what you had in mind?’

‘As much as I would love to tie your limbs to my bed and lash your arched back senseless all day, I fear we do not have time for that.’

‘Promises, promises,’ you reluctantly pulled apart, little sparks covering your fingertips. His eyes, now baring green colour, were looking around the hall, trying to find a way to leave unnoticed. You made a quick bow, hoping to look natural even though your legs started to tremble. 

Ódin was sitting on his throne, completely focused on a heated discussion, Frigga was sitting beside him, often engaging in the discussion, and Thor changed his competition to how much cooked lamb could one eat.

Loki strode across the hall, and left through the same door everyone entered. You waited for a while not to look suspicious against your pounding heart.

When you felt it was safe to escape, you walked across the hall. As soon as you vanished behind the corner, your body was slammed into the cold golden wall, feeling your adrenaline intensifying in your blood. Loki's lips crashed into yours hungrily and with suppressed desire. You were leaning against the wall, too stunned to make any tiny movement. He lifted your leg up and hooked it to his waist, with his slender and long fingers travelling on your stocking. You moaned into the kiss and pulled yourself together just to notice a change in his attire.

‘I would prefer a place more out of sight, Loki,’ you heard a growl and put your hands on his cheeks. There was no beard anymore, only a smooth shaven face with a sharp-edged jawline. You opened your eyes to see His Highness panting and wanting.

His green eyes desirously stared into yours, a thin line between his eyebrows signifying slight irritation, and raven curls scattered on his shoulders in frustration. His breathing was hard as his lust was rising. You were more pleased with his appearance in real life even though your earlier remark. He was pressing on you, giving you a big hard snippet of his arousal.

‘Are you certain, madam Y/N? In all honesty, those people could use a bit of inspiration themselves,’ he smirked and tugged at your garnet, making you gasp and smile.

‘As much as I would love to fuck you right in the hallway outside the room in which whole Asgard and your family is, I believe it would put in me in the wrong light later,’ he raised his eyebrows and you could swear you saw a glimpse of amazement in his eyes.

‘And we cannot risk it, can we?’ He let go of you abruptly and took your hand. He began walking through the long hallway, and you followed him blindly. Something in the way he walked made you bite your lower lip. How the leather jacket was embracing his form and how the gold shoulder pads made him appear resilient and strong.

You sneaked through several chambers until you found yourself standing in front of a massive door. Spotting a green mist, the door opened, and he let you enter inside. You were astonished by the place, likely his bedroom. Huge number of books was neatly organized in bookshelves and the sight of the giant bed with silk black sheets was calling you to crawl in. 

Biting your lower lip, you turned to face him and pin him against the door, closing itself with audible thud. He was caught off guard, but quickly read your intentions. Your hands explored his attire and your fingers slid down to his crotch. You were about to enter into his pants, when he picked you up and slammed your body against one of the tall bookshelves, while several books fell onto the floor. 

He was kissing you with lust, sliding his tongue inside your mouth, and pressing on you more harshly. You tangled your fingers in his locks, tugging it for him to know how much you are content. He started to work his way to your earlobe with his lips, nipping at it. You moved your hips in his direction, eagerly nudging him.

‘Your scent drives me crazy, Y/N,’ he growled and pressed on you more fiercely so you could feel individual shelves digging into your back. You were growing impatient, so you grabbed his hand and put it on your thigh. 

He sucked your lower lip between his teeth and caressed your thigh. His hand moved torturingly slow before it reached the skin of your inner thigh. You moaned his name when his index finger ran through your folds.

‘So wet, so soaked for me,’ he murmured against your mouths.

‘And will dry out if you do not do something about it,’ you said hoarse. His finger stopped in its tracks and his eyes stared into yours.

‘Firstly, it would not for I can make you wet any time I like.’

‘Stalling, are you?’

‘And secondly,’ he intensified his stare and gripped your neck, ‘do not tell me what to do.’

He squeezed your neck for a moment. You gasped for breath, but then his hand loosened, and his lips returned to yours, tugging and sucking until they were puffy and red. Your heart skipped a few beats out of horror, but not for long. You knew it was a play of who is in superior position, he knew it too.

He parted from you and observed two puffy pads he had been molesting.

‘Otherwise, you will not be able to walk out of here on your own,’ he wetted his lips longingly and inserted his finger in you. You gasped and purred in his ear. 

‘What if it is exactly what I am aiming for, Loki.’

He smirked and bit down on the sensitive skin on your collarbone. You moaned loudly. He needed to brand you with his signature. However, you did not let that happen one-sidedly. You pulled his hair, making his head fall back, and sucked the skin on his neck. Whilst you were working towards the neckline of his attire, he shoved another finger in you and began circling them slowly.

You pushed the thighs together, nudging him closer. He shoved into you a third finger, increasing the speed. You panted into his neck. His thumb rubbed your clit while curling and spreading his fingers inside. You were soaking wet, breathing heavily, pulling his hair roughly. Sweat was building on your forehead, and you knew you were going to explode any second. You made him look you in the eyes, him smirking and you fluttering your eyelids. 

You felt yourself approaching your climax, curling his fingers inside you and releasing pressure. You hung onto him, with your legs trembling. He worked your high off, slowly decreasing the speed. 

‘Are you sure you wish to live up to the idea of you crawling out of here on your knees?’ He removed his fingers, and without breaking eye contact, he licked them.

‘Are you always so full of words during sex?’ You remarked and used your full strength to press him on another tall bookshelf, causing it to rumble. You seized the situation and slid your hand in his pants. He moaned and you felt him harden. You watched him melt under your touch.

‘You are going to be filled with me in a moment.’

‘I very much count on it,’ you traced your fingers on his throbbing veins, circling on his tip. For each of these movements, you earned several moans. You started to pump him slowly, looking at his expression, twisted with pleasure. You kissed him on the other side of his neck and bit down on his skin. Feeling him approaching his climax and pressing his lap on you for more, you increased the speed. Suddenly, you felt his cum cover your hand. You worked his climax off as his chest was heaving and he growled in satisfaction. His hand fled to his hair to run through it. 

‘Well, Your Highness, it seems the tables have turned,’ you smirked and let him watch as you slid your hand with his cum under your skirt and rubbed it on your entrance. His pupils dilated and his voice sounded raspier.

‘Have they, though? I do not think you are prepared for what is going to follow.’

He picked you up, squeezing your buttocks, and threw you on the bed. Before you fell into the silk black sheets, you felt a wind blowing around your body and causing goosebumps to appear. You realized you became completely naked except for your garnets.

You spotted his wicked grin when he took off his attire. He snapped his fingers, the green mist appeared, and the attire fell onto the floor. Your eyes wandered from his shoulders to his chest, to his arms, to his chiselled muscles, and ultimately to his crotch. He was enormous. You licked your lips in anticipation.

Loki sat between your legs grabbing your left one and laid small kisses from your hip to the garnet. Then he bit down on the garnet and slid it down your leg, leaving you breathless. He did the same on your right leg, after which he laid kisses back to your hip.

Longing for his lips, you grabbed his cheeks and led his face to yours. He pinned you with his weight to the sheets, falsely thinking he would fuck your cockiness out of you, but you had other plans – bending your legs and embracing him, you rolled to the side so now you happened to be sitting on top of him. 

He let out a surprised gasp when you rubbed against him. You bent down to kiss his parted lips. He tried to roll you on the back again, but you refused him to do so.

Although if he had really wanted it, he would have done it in a snap.

You started making your way of kisses from his jaw to his collarbone and back. Meanwhile he squeezed your buttocks with both hands, and you felt him hardening again.

You put his cock in your hand, pumped for a few times, and thrusted in yourself, slowly adjusting to his size and at your own terms. You both were panting as you slid all of him inside. 

He felt so heavenly.

Loki sat and drew you closer to caress your breasts, nipping and sucking on each one. You let yourself give in for a moment, but then you pushed him into the sheets and leaned against his chest.

For a few times, you teased him by only circling your hips and heard him curse. You smiled mischievously. After he realized you were doing it purposely, he flipped you on your back in one swift motion, leaving you baffled and out of breath.

‘Do you really think you are in a position to provoke the God of mischief, darling?’ He kissed you roughly, biting until you felt the iron taste, and pulled out, after which he thrusted in you with all of his length. You gasped and dug your nails into his arms.

‘You bet...I do,’ you panted between each thrust, always hitting the exact sensitive spot. He was proving you wrong, but you rejected admitting it. You could not back down, your pride did not allow it.

‘Persistent until the very end,’ he whispered and increased the speed. Sweat was building on both of your foreheads, but yours was more evident. He was giving you a hard time. Loki made you stare into his eyes, but all you could do was dig your nails into his arms and reach your climax. Your mind went completely blank.

You tried to tell him you were going to come, but you were short on breath as he was thrusting into you senselessly. You felt clenching his cock inside you, heartbeat in your ears, and digging your nails even deeper into his muscles. He was staring into your eyes and working towards his own end.

With a final thrust, you cried out loud his name.

Hearing his name coming from your mouth made him close his eyes and release himself. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and pinned you with all of his weight to the sheets.

Both of you were panting breathlessly, your chests heaving. The only thing you could think about was how to start breathing again. After you had come down from your high, you scrutinized his arms full of little scratches and his neck. You stroked his hair and the arm he had wrapped around you and smirked.

Although he must have been less worn out than you, his face said otherwise.

After he had come down from his high, he pulled out and stayed lying on top of you, visibly enjoying you stroking his hair. With his free hand, he caressed the marks on your neck, and soothed them with his lips.

‘Just so you know, I take promises with utmost seriousness, darling,’ he whispered, giving your lips a peck, ‘you were talking about leather straps earlier, aye?’

[feistynighean16]

Reblogging to read it later. Sounds really intriguing 😏

The Selection || Loki x Reader || Masterlist and Selected list ||

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

The Selection came around again and this year, you were eligible to sign up for it. You didn't want to, of course, coming from a family that barely got by through the winter and knowing that the Royals had no idea how much people like you suffered. However, your little sister signed you up and now your name is called on the television as one of the lucky twelve to move to the capital and begin the games to winning the Prince's heart.

Two years ago, the Selection had televised Prince Thor's journey to finding a wife. This year, it was Prince Loki's turn.

Prince Loki. The 'Dark Prince', not seen a lot in public other than the times that Prince Thor dragged him outside. Closed off. Self-centred. Arrogant. Right?

Follow Y/N through her journey from beginning to end. With eleven other contestants, will you win Prince Loki's heart?

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

Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Five ~ Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Nine ~ Chapter Ten

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

Selected List:

Y/N Y/L/N – Brekstad, Midgard – didn’t really want to be Selected

Cleo Dameerin – Fetsheim, Vanaheim – there for love – 19 (533)

Phoebe Meera – London, Midgard – wishes to make friends – 22

Lorelei – Durdnheim, Vanaheim – there for the money – 18 (500)

Sophia De Mareen – Alzara, Alfheim – there for money 24 (645)

Chloe Olsen – Raneer, Asgard – there for money – 18 (474)

Adriana Sirandrew – Quolequeel, Jotunheim – wishes for love 21 (675)

Regan Seleucus – Soleheim, Niflheim – there for love or money 23 (50)

Isabel Bates – Adelaide, Australia – needs money for family – 20

Lara Oneal – Helian , Helheim – there for love – 25 (1500)

Summer Parkerdottir – Illias, Asgard – there for money 19 (520)

Katerina Godding – Essex, Midgard – there for status – 24

[feistynighean16]

Soul healing

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Genre: soft!Loki, mentions of PTSD, anxiety, trauma, Frigga's death, emotional dumping

Words: 1,9k

Summary: Both of you had lost, both of you need to heal. Nightmares had been bothering you many nights, but after the death of Frigga it was not just you who had to deal with them.

Cold, hostile breeze tickled your skin when the soft blanket uncovered your bare arms, sending shivers down your spine. You let out a deep breath, expecting a tight pressure from behind preventing any more discomfort. But nothing happened. 

You opened your eyes, adjusting to the complete darkness. It could not have been past three in the morning, the stars were still on the horizon. You embraced yourself, turning to the other side of the bed where he was supposed to be. But the only thing you could see was a wrinkled pillow, several creases on the sheets, assuming the person left not a long time ago.

Usually it was you who were having bad dreams, making you stare into the ceiling or get up to clear your head, trying to chase them away. Years and years fighting for your life by yourself took a damned toll on your racing mind.

Your eyes went up to the open glass door leading to the balcony. A long, translucent curtain was fluttering nearly to the centre of the chambers, several sheets of paper falling on the stone floor. You let out a yawn, sliding your feet from under the blanket. Blinking to find your gown for you to have at least two layers to prevent the wind from further discomfort, you wondered what possibly could have disturbed his sleep.

The two of you did not have an easy beginning; being imprisoned did not allow you to open thoroughly, even past months it had been tough to communicate your needs. It took many years to stop blaming yourself for the little things you did not cause, and it would take many more to start trusting the people around you. He knew, from the moment he locked his eyes with yours, he knew the things that were left unsaid, raw and too vulnerable for anybody to notice. He knew because he had already been through it.

You embraced yourself, fingers resting upon harsh lines on your arms. You got used to them being there, reminding you of the years prior. He said they were there to show your determination and strength, you knew they were only a sign to show how fucking rotten you were on the inside. 

Leaning against the glass door, you laid eyes on the bare hunched back, muscles flexing whenever the person shifted the weight from one leg to another.

You were thankful for him not having been dissuaded by your countless attempts to push him away. Both of you were way too past the phase of first enchantment. In your case, it was the moment when he had gone out searching for you in the death of night, without hesitation. He found you sitting in the sand, damping your feet in cold Asgardian lake, on the edge of frostbite. You did not even notice him, so deep in overthinking and blaming the abduction on yourself. Your teeth were chattering, blank eyes staring in darkness, you were letting your feet get numb from coldness in order to feel something, to get out of your head. 

Wordlessly, he planted his big palms on your cheeks, turning you to face him. His emerald eyes showed uneasiness, fatigue, and worry. Worry for you. His thumb stroked your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, in the corners of your eyes glistening tears. He brought you into his lap, wrapped you tightly to get you warm, and held still. You remembered the smell of his pine cologne, the feeling of safety in his arms.

‘You are freezing,’ he whispered, feeling the icy skin through your damp clothes. After a few moments sitting there, the numbness of your fingertips began to gain feeling, and you were fully present, aware of his arms firmly squeezing you, his fingers gently caressing your purple scars, his chin resting upon your head, hearing his calmly beating heart. 

‘Forgive me,’ you uttered. His fingers tilted your chin once again, making you stare into his eyes. They were less worried, but still haggard. The pinch of remorse cut straight to your heart. The crease between his eyebrows did not help the guilt. Curly strands of raven hair tumbled over his collar. 

‘I know, my darling, I know,’ he did not try to advise you to go somewhere else next time. He knew how much you did not want to go through this again, to suffer. 

You stepped closer to him, leaning over the railing beside him, staring down at Asgard, few of its citizens had lit the lights, unable to sleep as well, tree leaves fluttering in the wind. Your head turned to look at him.

His messy hair fell in curled tendrils, wind ruffling them. His brows were furrowed down, a known crease forming deeply between them. His eyes were focused on something before him, staring blankly and thoughtlessly. He had his lips pressed in a thin line, and his jaw firmly clenched. Your look fell on his fist, clenching and releasing, the curve in his biceps mimicking the movement. 

Past events had not been kind to him. After the tragic death of Frigga, he completely shut himself from you. Being the God of mischief, he knew how to play it as if nothing could get to him. But you could see his pain through his eyes, actions, and silence. The regret. The guilt. You had never seen this side of him, sinking himself in the wrath of sorrow. And you knew you needed to be there when he would come for a heartfelt smile, tender touch, or even get out the frustration…because he had always been there for you.

You took a step closer, put your palm on his shoulder blade, inspecting whether he was cold. He blinked a few times, returning to the reality of you two standing on the balcony. He shifted under your touch.

‘Are you not cold? It is terribly windy…’ you said, caressing his skin. 

‘I am a Frost Giant, love. I cannot ever be cold,’ he said, looking in your face with a grin. You rolled your eyes at yourself for forgetting.

Another thing which makes you more undeserving of him.

‘But you seem like you are going to turn into an icicle,’ he chuckled when you wrapped yourself in the gown. 

‘It is pretty windy,’ you admitted. He straightened up, stretching his back, and revealing the  chiselled torso on which you had fallen asleep nearly every night. You knew by heart the curves of every muscle, calm and tense, soft and hard. There was no sign of goosebumps, truly. 

‘Come here,’ he said, taking your hand to pull you in front of him. You were both leaning against the railing, holding hands. He planted a kiss on your temple, rested his chin on your shoulder, and remained silent. Even though he was not radiating heat, the blockage was enough for you to stop shivering. 

‘If only the nightmares would disappear…I hate to see you going through it by yourself, Loki,’ you whispered, nuzzling against his cheek. You could feel his jaw clenching, his arms tensing. 

‘Talk to me,’ you pleaded, squeezing his hand, hoping for him to open up. He let out a deep breath, shifting weight from one foot to another. You pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, inhaling his pine scent. 

There was a silence, you could only hear him breathing heavily, the wind wheezing around your ears. You knew he did not want to delve into his emotions, he never did.

‘When I was little, Thor and I would be running through these gardens below us all the time,’ he nodded to the direction of a bush maze, ‘one day we were so caught up in chasing ourselves we did not notice Ódin calling us for another combat lesson until he sent one of his lackeys. Thor obediently listened, of course.’

‘When ever he does not,’ you murmured and felt his chest rambling in quiet laughter. 

‘Indeed, darling,’ his voice trailed off, reminiscing of the times. 

‘Do you think he knows?’ you asked, looking at his complexion side-eyededly. His brows furrowed for a moment.

‘Do not give him such credit. He and Ódin only care about maintaining a strong force unit than the liaisons of Loki, however evident they might be,’ he rolled his eyes annoyingly. 

‘He is your brother after all, I heard that the minds of siblings are somewhat connected.’

‘Step-brother, we are not even blood-related.’

You chuckled, shaking your head. He nuzzled along your jaw, gently turning your head to find your lips. He kissed you tenderly. Then the seriousness returned, his head rested upon your head. 

‘So…Thor went to Ódin, I stayed in the gardens. Little did I know there was…’ his voice broke off. You brought his hand to your lips, and planted a kiss for him to make sure you were listening.

‘...she never gave up on me, no matter how much of a pain in the arse I had been. She never let something happen to us, to me. She even confronted Ódin when I was giving them a hard time. Norns…every part of my being misses her,’ you felt him press his forehead against the back of your head as if hiding himself from his emotions, the strands of his hair tickling your cheeks. 

‘Frigga is proud of the man you have grown into, I am certain,’ you said encouragingly. He snorted out arrogantly.

‘I managed to disappoint her before she died.’

‘Look at me,’ you let go of his hands, and turned to face him. He was painfully clenching his jaw preventing himself from falling apart. You gazed into his glistening emerald eyes, mirroring the disappointment he beated himself over and over. Your palms found his soft cheeks, caressing them until he leaned into your palms. 

‘I have seen you throw yourself to the wolf’s den for your loved ones. And I am sure you would do it again. You are brave, determined, and strong. If you doubt her pride, you cannot doubt mine. I am immensely proud of you,’ you made him look into your eyes, giving the words exact meaning. Your heart ached when you saw him; he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. His hands fastened around your hips, closing the distance between you. He pressed his forehead against yours. You put your hands on his chest, reassuringly rubbing your fingers on his skin. 

‘I cannot lose you, too, Y/N,’ he whispered, and your heart skipped a beat. You kissed him, inserting every piece of you into the kiss until you felt empty. While pouring his heart, you were willing to promise him all the moons in the universe. You broke apart after you both were out of breath, your fingers smoothing the crease between his eyebrows.

‘I am not going anywhere, my love,’ you said, and wrapped your hands around him in a tight embrace. His head fell in the crook of your neck, inhaling your flowery perfume, ‘soon or later.’

It was moments like these when you were grateful for him. You understood how broken you were, how being vulnerable made you feel, how much strength it took you to trust someone. Both of you knew you were destined to each other, however difficult your healing was. 

‘You should go inside, get some sleep before the reception,’ he muttered in your neck, his nose grazing your jawline. His eyes were no longer worried, only haggard. You planted a kiss in the corner of his mouth, sparkling an idea.

‘...I should, but a certain God could use a bit of distraction…’ you hinted a smile, distancing yourself from his questioning eyes. You took off your gown and disappeared inside, leaving the gown on the balcony floor.

...

A/N: This one was a bit sentimental to write. I haven't been feeling so well lately, thus a perfect inspiration. Hope you've enjoyed it.

[feistynighean16]

Reblogging before I forget. So stoked to dive into reading 🤩

***MASTERLIST***

A peasant in Vanaheim is forced to audition to be the concubine of the infamously detestable Loki of Asgard in tribute for Odin’s protection. Taking advantage of a lost cause, you decide to take the lessons of your aunt, a temple priestess to the goddess of love, to Asgard in order to seduce the prince in an attempt to win freedom for your people.

Instantly finding yourself struggling to stay afloat among the brutal nobles, cutthroat concubines, jealous princesses, and brutal games you never dreamed could exist in your worst nightmares, it becomes difficult to keep your head down in the court, or in the bed, of the infamous Snake Prince.

Pairing: Prince Loki x Concubine!Reader Rating: 18+ ONLY (Minors DNI) Content Warning: Threat and mentions of assault, eventual smut, indentured servitude and sex slavery, mean people being mean, violence, executions, more warnings likely to come

1- An Audition 2- The Snake Prince of Asgard 3- An Unusual Night 4- The Game 5- Death and a Diary 6- A Garden of Forking Paths 7- Others 8- Those Down Below 9- The Lesson

@vickie5446 @thedistractedagglomeration @jonquilclegane @lonadane @lokisgoodgirl @just-someone11 @mcufan72 @hypergamer7744 @usagishira @silverfire475 @coleranchdorito @huntress-artemiss @elegantcheesecakecrown @lokixryss @25bohemianmoons @crimson25 @waywardsummoner46 @ladyjames78 @chantsdemarins @sorceresski @ladymischief11 @goblingirlsarah @fictive-sl0th @goldencherriess @marvel-fan24 @trickster-maiden @glitterylokislut @psychospore @silverfire475 @wolfsmom1 @coldnique

[feistynighean16]

I must raise my hand in agreement. There is nothing worse than engaging in YouTube sessions immediately after any spectacle from the mentioned source.

Sincerely,

suffering member of PTSD

Thought of you💚🥭

AAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHA 😆 there is so much to unpack here. Whoever created this is an absolute legend 👌

Some of my personal faves:

The IMAGE CAPTION☠️😆"laughing at your ruined life"

Symptoms: Sudden interest in poetry/Shakespeare/norse mythology

-"sudden onset of symptoms may start with innocuous events such as watching him adjust microphones" 🤣🤣

Also the warning, "refrain from engaging in any YouTube or Tumblr sessions" - ohhhhhh dear. We're jimmied, lads.

You'll probably enjoy this so I need to share 😁 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @fictive-sl0th @thomase1 @holdmytesseract @mon-hiddlestoneans @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtigger @kikster606 @coldnique @maple-seed @simping-for-marvel @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @kats72 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lunarnights95 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @vbecker10 @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @alexakeyloveloki @xorpsbane @lokiprompts @muddyorbsblr @sarahscribbles

[feistynighean16]

💎🐹🌸🎥 for the ask game :)

💎 silver or gold jewelry?

I don't wear jewelry very often, but when I do, I much prefer silver to gold.

🐹 do you have any pets?

I do. My cat Oliver has been the centre of my universe for 5 years. I also had my beloved puppy boy I lost a year ago.

🌸favorite flower?

I don't think I have a favourite flower, I haven't received many of them, but I love any kind of wild flowers.

🎥 your top 3 movies

Pride and Prejudice (2005), Bridget Jones, and Atonement (2007). British actors have a special place in my heart (especially if they have strong accents).

Thank you, love. You're too kind for asking :)

[feistynighean16]

Cute idea, love! 💙 would love to be asked.

About myself - ask game

🍀 - what’s your definition of luck?

👄 - which languages do you speak?

💎 - silver or gold jewelry?

💵 - what’s your job? Are you happy?

💿 - favorite children’s / childhood movie

👠 - favorite kind of shoes

🐹 - do you have any pets?

🌸 - favorite flower? Are there flowers in your room?

☀️ - spring or fall and why?

🍕 - favorite comfort food

🧳 - best place you’ve visited so far?

🎲 - what are your hobbies?

👾 - a random game you play

🏓 - do you do any sports?

🌈 - your weirdest obsession

🍼 - dream job as a child

🎥 - your top 3 movies

❤️ - a thing you like about yourself

👶 - do you want / have kids?

🌵 - pick a biome

🧿 - something you’d tell your younger self?

[feistynighean16]

For later, I’m SO excited to read this love!!! 💙

𝒥𝑒𝓌𝑒𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃

(Asgard!Loki x f!reader)

warnings: old fashioned traditions, outdated image of woman / marriage

A Bridgerton x Loki au in which the crown prince Thor Odinson was supposed to marry and yn is the scintillating debutante of this year’s social season…

𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 1 - a matter of pride

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 2 - a jewel‘s qualities

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 3 - chain of emotions

< finished >

[feistynighean16]

The Red Dress [Avenger! Loki x Fem. Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (5) It's a big night for the team, and your outfit of choice makes quite the impression on one god in particular. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Hostility. Language. Jealously. Humour. Smuttish. Sexual tension. (w/c 3.7k)

Loki had been back from his latest mission for a whole week, and you were counting the days until he left again. It was the night of the annual Avenger’s shareholder party, the most important corporate night of the year. Mandatory attendance. A month and three days had passed since what you had come to term ‘the incidents’. Not that you were counting, of course. Memories of Loki’s dexterous hands roaming your body haunted you. How he made the world around you fade to darkness beneath his animalistic moans was still annoyingly clear as day, even in the dead of night. Particularly in the dead of night.

It was nothing. At least, that’s what you told yourself as a resplendent Loki Laufeyson descended the staircase to the party with a spring in every conceited step.

You smoothed a hand down the bodice of your red dress, the skater pleats of the silk skirt grazing your bare thighs. He was wearing some sort of tight tunic tonight, a mix of Asgardian and Earth fashion that could only have come from one of Stark’s legendary tailors. His flowing black hair was combed back, falling in an effortless train behind his shoulders. A familiar gold crescent adorned the material snug around his chest, the high collar straight against his devastatingly jawline. He wants everyone to know who he is, smug bastard, you thought venomously as you imagined how the cool metal of his sacred symbol over his heart would feel against your ass while you sat on his face. Because of course he does. The straight tunic brushed his thighs, a longer flap of material hanging teasingly over his manhood. Wise decision, Tony; you thought, remembering the ferociously primal stir his enormous bulge caused at the last event. Matte leather clung to his muscled legs, running down into formal knee high boots that made you want to scream. All black. Or is it dark green, you wondered; hungry eyes hovering on the creases appearing at his thighs as he gracefully made his way down the stairs alone. The whole thing was a blip, you told yourself. A moment of madness. Or two. If anything, you never thought about it at all. Seeing him swagger nonchalantly around the Tower with that token arrogance clinging to him like latex was unbearable, though. His whole demeanour, the haughty derision toward everyone and everything simmering beneath that perfect skin, brewing the next sarcastic quip. Unbearable. And what was even more unbearable was that the shithead was ignoring you. How many times had you grimaced at the ridiculous little cough of condescension that floated over your shoulder in the kitchen before he released a tepid barb? Too many, you thought; as your eyes scanned his proud features radiant in the reflections from the mirrorball. It was one of the many things you loathed about him. And yet now you finally had your wish that it would cease...somehow, it smarted. Like he was winning.

You’d fallen into the habit of talking a little louder in his vicinity when he graced the common rooms with his austere presence, saving your best lines for when he was close and could hear the rampant mirth you provoked. That he would see the scintillating hilarity he's missing by being a complete dick, you thought; running your eyes up his endless legs as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes scanning the pulsing crowd with a self-assured smirk. Damn, he looks fucking good tonight, though you conceded reluctantly; grateful that the sway of your flouncy dress hid a slight involuntary thrust of your hips. He raised his chin, looking left and right; a glazed stare floating right past you. If you were honest, you had hoped that the perfectly fitted dress and the cleavage contained therein would lure him to you; drive him mad with longing or some damn thing. At least long enough to give him a taste of his own medicine. As he turned away, you realised that your cleavage would just as easily open the doors to Stark’s vault. And really, it wasn’t like you cared. Irritation marinated as Nat handed you a drink, your fingers absent-mindedly clasping the stem of the glass. She chattered over the music as you took a mental picture of Loki’s muscular body vacuum-packed into that ridiculous outfit to masturbate over later in the bath. Yes, you thought; your eyes crawling over his endless limbs as he greeted a flustered Rogers with a sarcastic bow. That will do nicely. “-hey, are you listening?” Nat said, in that peculiarly penetrating tone she saved for when she knew you were absolutely not listening. Your head tilted towards her with a strained smile, blinking several times. “Got distracted, sorry.” you said innocently. She nodded, taking a sip of her wine while observing the party’s latest arrival. Nat licked the faint stain of red from her upper lip. “You mean David Gandy over there?” she said, nudging her head towards Loki. You chuckled, an infectious giggle from Nat following. “I wonder what will give up first” she postured, folding her elegant arms. “Thor’s table manners or Loki’s new threads. He’s really poured in there, huh?” You snorted, shaking your head. “Loki’s manners more like.” you murmured to yourself, seeing Nat’s brow furrow. “Sorry, what was it you were saying before?” Her face softened, the placid expression returning. “Stark needs you on the bar.” “On the bar? You’re kidding me.” you whined, letting out an exasperated sigh. “How’s it going to look to the shareholders when one of the bloody team is on shaker-duty?” “Like good PR” she winked, reaching out and tugging down the neckline of your red dress to expose a tad more cleavage. “And no one makes a Martian Hard On like you, babe.” You sighed again, hating that she was right. “Fine.” you grimaced, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come and talk to me later. If I get stuck with all the handsy drunk ones I’ll be mad.” you said, seeing her eyes light up at your words. “Those are my favourite.” she winked.

You made your apologies to those you cut across, dodging photographer’s flashes as they documented the party. “-Sorry!” you yelped, colliding with an unexpected wall of muscle. Stepping back, your face fell as Loki spun on his heels; looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. They narrowed, running appraisingly over your body, his brows knitted in a strange disapproval. “How did you get over here so fast?” you muttered, straightening as one of his long fingers re-adjusted a strap of your dress which had succumbed to the collision. “Keeping tabs on me, are we? I’m flattered.” he hummed, winding his arm around the shoulder of a mysterious smiling woman. You vaguely remembered seeing her face on the laminated VIP lists Steve had handed out at the briefing. Now you sort of wished you had read it. “Lead the way, barkeep.” Loki smirked, making you roll your eyes. You opened the hatch with a rough churning in your stomach. I did not join the Avengers for this bullshit, you thought as you grabbed the cocktail shaker from the back-shelf. Loki raised the woman’s hand, helping her perch on the barstool before setting himself down. You knew his thick thighs would be spread invitingly against the leather seat, the modestly flap casually set askew to accentuate the peek of the ever-present bulge in his always-just-a-little-too-tight trousers. He placed one forearm on the bar, eyes flickering upward to the side seductively in a way you could only assume was calculated. God, he looked so fucking- “What can I get you?” you said sharply, a manufactured smile stretched across your lips as a stressed-out looking Tony walked by, giving you a grateful nod. Loki pursed his lips in a theatrical ponder. “What do you feel like, darling?” he purred, turning to the woman by his side. She giggled, her cheeks turning pink as his bicep shifted beneath the tight tunic; clearly resting a hand on her leg. By day, she would be one of the most influential financiers in the country. But tonight, it seemed she was an eighteen year old groupie again. “Does she do cocktails?” the woman said coquettishly to Loki, her eyes not leaving his as he bit his lip. His tongue flicked out, running over his cupid’s bow. God, he was really laying it on thick. “She does.” he said thoughtfully, turning toward you with a knowing look. “And she has quite the speciality...remind me, what’s the name?” You sighed, the inevitability of his insider knowledge making you want to ram a cocktail stick in his eye.

“A ‘Martian Hard On’.” you said through gritted teeth, seeing the corner of Loki’s mouth twitch. “And how does one make this frankly delicious sounding concoction?” he purred, leaning closer over the bar with feigned interest.

“It’s not that good actually. Bit overrated.” you sniffed, wiping the damp cloth across the marble. Loki frowned. “I’ll just have Sex on the Beach.” the woman quipped, before gasping dramatically. “I mean the cocktail, not actual sex on the beach…” she drawled with faux-innocence, breaking out in a high-pitched laugh that made your teeth hurt.

You rolled your eyes again, turning to the rows of bottles on the mirrored shelves. In the reflection, you saw Loki lean towards her, the razor-straight line of his jaw twitching as he whispered in her ear. The high collar skirted the angle as he spoke, black slicing against the fairness of his skin. A token flash of his cheekbones that kept you awake at night made your stomach flip as the woman gasped, before giggling again. “Oh you are a bad man, Loki Laufeyson. Tony said I should watch out for you, and he was right.” She pushed his shoulder flirtatiously, watching Loki’s face crease in mock-hurt as he pressed a hand to his chest. His smile was uncharacteristically warm, twinkling eyes running over her admittedly pretty features like she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Hell, maybe she was. It’s just his job for the night, you thought, re-considering the liberal measure of peach schnapps you had poured for the woman now cackling at one of Loki’s over-inflated stories. He’s not actually going to- “Anything to report?” a rasping whisper floated over your shoulder, making you jump. “Christ, Steve…” you mumbled, before sliding the sloppily put together cocktail across the marble towards Loki and the woman. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Loki hummed condescendingly in your direction, passing the glass to his charge with a wink. “I’m just going to the restroom.” the woman said coyly after taking a sip, tugging at the stiff collar of Loki’s tunic. She leant closer, her lips grazing the smooth skin of his cheek. You could see her hand sliding up his thigh, your eyes widening as her palm cupped the bulge in his tight trousers. “Don’t go anywhere.” “Not even if I could, Madam...” Loki said coyly, making you choke back a reluctant laugh as Steve grimaced. The three of you watched the woman slink away, a prominent swing in her step. “That’s Tony’s biggest shareholder, Laufeyson. Don’t fudge it up.” Rogers spat when she was out of earshot, the vein in his temple twitching alarmingly. “I can assure you Rogers, I will not be fudging anything.” Loki drawled, inspecting his fingernails as his features softened to a knowing smile. “Unless she asks me to, of course.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed the same colour as his salmon shirt. “Now listen here, Laufeyson.” he hissed, “No funny business. You just need to show her a good time. Tell her a few jokes.” He raised a hand as Loki opened his mouth with a smart comment on the tip of his tongue. “PG jokes, thank you very much.” “He can handle it Steve” you sighed absent-mindedly, noticing a splash of something on the pleat of your dress. You frowned, looking up at them. “Just, drop it. She’ll be fine, she’s all over him.”

Rogers eyebrow cocked, his gaze running suspiciously between you and Loki as he patted his notebook against one soft palm. “So are you two...pals, now?” he said sceptically, noting the twitch of your eye as he spoke. “-Oh yes.” Loki drawled, throwing Steve a dazzlingly forced smile. “She’s warmed to me at last it seems. I did some charity work for her. Didn’t I, Agent?” You scowled, diligently polishing one of the ostentatious cocktail glasses Stark only brought out on very special occasions. “Charity work, huh?” Steve said, his eyebrows rising towards the god. “That’s spiff of you, Laufeyson. I’ll make a note for your review that you’re really inserting yourself into team culture.” “Oh yes. I’m all about inserting myself deep into the culture now, Rogers.” Loki murmured. “It was quite a desperate situation, really. Tragic, one might say. I simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing while the poor thing suffered.” You inhaled some of your own spit with a cough, spluttering with masked indignation. Loki’s face creased in faux-concern, leaning forward on the bar. “Are you alright, friend?” he murmured, a devilish smile tweaking his lips. Anger flushed through your blood, heat rising in your cheeks as you tried to stay calm. Charity. He’s got some fucking nerve, you thought, dabbing your mouth subtly with a napkin. Steve nodded briskly, scanning the room before giving someone a cheery wave and pushing away. You looked at Loki, his sanctimonious shit-eating grin doing nothing to dampen the conflicted whirl of thoughts in your mind. The music faded behind the thump of blood in your ears as Loki took sip of his manufactured-date’s drink. You were suddenly parched. The ridges of your tongue felt uncomfortable against the roof of your mouth. His cheekbones hollowed as he sucked at the edge of the glass, setting it down before licking his bottom lip with a low moan. The visceral feeling of Loki’s teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder shuddered through you, seeing his eyes glint in the dim party lights, relishing your awkward reaction. “Delicious.” he growled, running his eyes down to your cleavage and back to your face. “Shame about the dress, though. A bit too garish for you, Agent. A bit too...attention-seeking, perhaps.” “You’re ridiculous.” you sniffed haughtily, clasping the edges of the bar with straight arms. Your shoulders flexed, pushing your breasts up. “And you of all people can’t lecture me about seeking attention...which is not what this is, so I don’t know why you-” “Oh?” Loki cut in. He leant forward, beckoning you with a double flick of one thick fingertip. “Well it seems that whether you want it or not...you have it.” There was a pause. You could feel your traitorous pussy sliding against your thin panties, his unrelenting smarm making you want to pull him toward you and shut him up in the only way that seemed to work.

Loki sipped the cocktail again, nudging his head subtly towards the seating area to the side of the bar. You looked over, seeing Thor displayed uncomfortably on the sofa. He was leaning forward, one meaty elbow resting on his knee with the fist propped beneath his chin. His thighs were spread wide, his eyes twitching with murderous intensity as he stared at you like dinner. “He’s flirting with you.” Loki purred, a smile tugging at his lips. You snorted, feeling your cheeks heat. “He is not. I don’t know what he’s doing but it’s not that.” you garbled, wiping the bar with a damp cloth. A fizzing knot grew in your belly as Loki’s fingers drummed the marble between you nonchalantly. “In Asgard, we have very particular customs around colours, Agent. Are you aware?” You huffed, hoping that the clawing in your stomach would pass. “By wearing that misguided little sliver of crimson silk, you have aroused some very deep-seated urges within my brother that you wish to bed him tonight. To be ridden like a fine Asgardian mare. A fabled red flag to a particularly lacklustre bull, one might say.” You looked again at Thor, now massaging his thigh; his darkened gaze undressing you. He bit his lip, one eye closing in a slow, calculated wink. “Oh god…” you murmured dryly. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Agent. He’s not very good, I’m afraid. Especially considering your recently elevated standards.” You snorted. “I find it hard to believe that you guys are used to women traipsing around in your ‘colours’ waiting for their chance to shag you.” you hissed, throwing Thor a sideways glance. “I am not going to sleep with him. That’s absurd.” Loki looked at you silently, a closed smile stretching across his placid face before he spoke. “Oh, believe it Agent. We Asgardian princes never wanted for company. Even if my brother was a little less...discerning.” He smirked, enjoying every second of your growing discomfort. “And as for your intentions with him tonight, I recommend you alert him to your little misunderstanding sooner rather than later.” “And what about your little ‘misunderstanding’? You know she basically thinks you’re some kind of superpowered gigalo, right?” you sneered, seeing Loki’s eyebrows rise. He chuckled, shaking his head just as the woman surfaced from the throng of the crowd. She had pulled the neckline down, and you could have sworn that when she had left she had been wearing pantyhose beneath that party dress. “Who says I’m not, Agent?” he whispered covertly, pushing himself off the barstool as he leant closer. His cologne filled your nostrils, the musky tang making your mouth water. “You of all people know I can be anything she desires.” He tore his hardened gaze from your eyes to the beaming woman with an exaggerated smile. “Amanda, darling. Let’s dance, shall we?” he announced, peeling his long limbs from the barstool.

Amanda, you scoffed with a grimace as she melted willingly into his lean body. The glass you had picked up became the most interesting thing in the room as you tried to maintain an air of indifference, polishing it casually. You could feel Thor’s eyes burning into you as you stared at the crystal held between your fingertips. The synapses of your brain were fizzing, the temptation to look up to the dancefloor...irresistible. Fuck, you thought; feeling your eyes rising to the busy centre of the room. The crowd pulsed beneath the lights from the mirrorball over the sound of a remixed version of Rasputin. In that suit, his body was endless. The wide rim boots cut in solid angles at his knees, the hard meat of his thighs rising to the hem of the tunic flexing visibly through the fabric. His hand slid over the curves of her hips, ghosting her ass before pulling the keening woman tight to his broad chest.

Your eyes flickered to Rogers lurking in the shadows watching them. Arms crossed, brow furrowed in disapproval. Loki’s outfit clung like a luxurious second skin, every inch reacting to the movement of his limbs as he gracefully swayed her body to his. Amanda’s fingers ran up his torso, bumping over the curve of Asgardian gold. She tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear, her eyes smouldering with singular intent to fuck this heavenly creature in whose arms she somehow found herself tonight. But she doesn’t know him like I do, you thought with a grimace. She doesn’t know what he’s really like-

Loki swung her gracefully outward, pulling her back to him with a timed thrust of his muscular hips; bucking gently as her hand travelled lower. The stem of the elegant martini glass in your grip snapped. Primitive jealousy like you had never known surged through your blood like napalm, a ferocious shiver rolling across every nerve making your hair stand on end. The audacity of the god cut deep as you smacked the towel to the marble bar, making straight for the hatch. White noise filled your ears as you made your way over to the seating area, a flustered looking Thor standing to attention as you approached. Your fingers scraped at his shirt, managing to snag an inch of material not plastered to his frame. He jerked forward, the rough stubble of his cheek scratching against your skin. “Dance with me.” you purred into his ear, feeling his huge frame shudder. He growled, striding forward and tugging you roughly to the dance-floor. The shards of light from the mirrorball stung your eyes as Thor whipped you into his bulging arms, the cotton of his shirt straining dangerously against freakishly large biceps. Oh god, you thought as the room spun. You were vaguely aware of his large hands slipping down your waist, pulling you toward him with a firm tug. “My lady, you tease too brazenly. For too long I have coveted this.” he grunted, his hair scratching your eyes as he began to gyrate in time with Boney M. “Wha-what?” you squeaked, thinking of the years you’d spent side by side with not a hint of the heated desire seeping from him as he wound his imposing body around yours. “That dress…my colours” he smouldered, his eyes darkened with lust, “...it has lit a fire within me. I must have you.” One hand slid over your lower back, grasping the folded material of the red silk skirt. He growled again, tightening his fist; burying his face in your neck as he swayed deeper against your frame. Thor’s hot breath skated over the place his brother had made his mark the month prior, the pale bruise still visible in the harsh light of day.

“Thor…” you gasped breathlessly, pushing a palm against his chest as one belonging to another roughly smacked him on the shoulder, casting him backward. You gasped as Loki shoved you briskly to the side, stepping toward the blonde. “Ordinances of the Colours do not apply in this realm, brother.” Loki snarled, baring his teeth. The disco lights glinted on the gold adorning his suit; his fierce eyes flashing in confrontation. Your pussy tightened, seeing Loki’s fists clench by his sides. “Ordinances or not, brother...she claimed me as hers for this dance.” Thor postured, squaring up to the dark-god with a solitary step forward. “And this night, I believe.” He added, suggestively. “Ask her.” Loki shot you a look that would kill the weak. You swallowed, fighting the feeling of your knees attempting to buckle. “It’s true.” you said, much more calmly than you expected, your stomach fizzing. “I did. The dance, anyway.” Loki rolled his eyes. “Aren’t they missing you on the bar, Agent?” he spat, gesturing to the small queue of people hanging against the counter-top expectantly. It was your turn to roll your eyes, walking past him with a shove of your shoulder. It hurt. Fucking Laufeyson and his fucking ego- you thought furiously, hearing the brothers bicker theatrically behind you. Roger’s frustrated drawl soon intervened between them as you stared resolutely ahead on your path. Who the hell does he think he- Suddenly you were tugged roughly to the side. The heels you wore skated over the smooth floor as you careened into the dark hall passageway away from the humming crowd and thumping music. Long fingers clasped over your parted lips, your back thudding against the nearest wall as Loki loomed above you; resplendent and menacing in the gloom. The skintight tunic pressed against your cleavage, his hardening cock dragging slowly upward against your body with formidable intent. The god’s bottomless eyes were dark liquid as he stared down at you, hair falling in curled tendrils against your cheek. A muscle in his clenched jaw bobbed as he wet his lips. “Lead me to your rooms, Agent.” he enunciated quietly, his chest heaving with slow, heavy breaths. “Immediately.”

Continued in The Red Dress: Ruined (w/c 2.5k) Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags

@lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @lunarnights95 @vbecker10 @skymoonandstardust @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischie @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @peachyymallows @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @joyful-enchantress

[feistynighean16]

The likes, rebloggs, comments, and mentions are making me emotional on my birthday 🥹 I have never imagined the excerpts of my fantasies would be read by so many amazing souls. I still cannot wrap my head around it 🥹

Thank you, thank you, thank you for warming my heart in these cold temperatures outside ❤️

[feistynighean16]

Thank you, love 🖤 glad you loved it, hopefully there are more to come! *wiggling eyebrows*

Peak of demonstration

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Genre: self-pleasure, praising kink, semidominant Loki, smut, punishment (not physical), possesiveness, rough sex

Words: 3,5k

Summary: Sexual escapades belong to gods' eternal amusements, you had been having one with God of mischief for decades. Feeling dissatisfied after his last performance, you plan to show him what you need, and perhaps you receive even a compensation.

Let me…

His words echoed in your mind, reliving all the details from last night. Although you had been looking forward to the frequent rendezvouses during which you were discovering something new about yourselves every time, yesterday was…less than expected. 

Dull, more like.

You stabbed a fork into the piece of meat lying on the plate in front of you, not paying any attention to the ongoing debate. Light from the setting sun reflected off the golden cutlery, when shining at the right angle. When its ray settled on a part of your body, mellow warmth pleased you, wandered to your fingertips, leaving behind a path of goosebumps.

Unlike last night.

You looked up from your plate and stared at the person in front of you, with his trademark smirk and wishing to be elsewhere. You could relate to him with every inch, but refused to do so. Perhaps to deny the connection you had already had, perhaps to show what he did wrong, even though you were actually punishing yourself. You glimpsed at your mother who was talking passionately about something you took the least interest in with Ódin, nodding in agreement.

Being the daughter of Freyja, Goddess of love and beauty, brought several advantages; you took after her beauty, sincerity, and of course seidr, an inevitable divine instrument. And you were naturally skilled with other beings. For centuries, you had met hundreds who did not stay the same after meeting your grace. And he was no exception. 

Kiss me…I beg you…

You were always the lead, making the others listen to your command. There was a certain dominance, certain power that came within. However, two Gods meeting in the same room, demanding the same care, longing for the same control…very promiscuous consequences.

A subtle pressure on your foot made your eyes look at the source. He was piercing his eyes into yours, pretending to think about something that had been said, with his lips tensely pressed into thin line. His arms were crossed on his chest which was hidden beneath his celestial armour, hiding away from you every scar and every muscle.

Knowing him for decades, you both recognised and cherished what you desire. You had always tried to fulfil his wishes and in turn, he did too, sometimes encouraging each other to push one’s limits. Secret relationship prospered to both; even though it was only once a year. That kept you in suspense, longing, wanting. 

However, your needs were not met, not even in the slightest. And that contradicted the unwritten agreement.

He nudged your foot again. And again. And again. Until you looked up with a stone cold expression.

Harder…harder…

Locking your eyes, you moved your leg out of his reach, resulting in his furrowed brows. His eyes were clearly asking the cause of your detachment. You placed the meat into your mouth, ignoring him completely.

Naturally, you were attracted to him. But in this moment, you could only feel betrayed, narked, all while anticipating his redemption. And you knew how much he despised being left out.

Darling…

You felt something invading your thoughts, trying to break the mental boundary keeping them private. Rather someone. You narrowed your eyes at him, preventing him from finding the cause. He turned his head a little, raising his eyebrows at your intransigence. Then he moved in the seat and cleared his throat, insistently making efforts to gain your full attention.

It appeared to catch Frigga’s attention instead.

‘Y/N, how is the meal? I thought you might enjoy it tonight,’ she said with a smile. You forced yourself to break eye contact and focus on answering a simple question. You sat in the chair straighter, turning your head towards the host.

‘It is utterly appetising, thank you for asking,’ you responded with the sincerest tone. However, he used the distraction to his advantage. You broke down the invisible barriers of your mind, revealing an easy path for his seidr to find whatever he considered helpful. 

What thing is bothering your mind, Y/N? 

It is ludicrous you did not ask that last night…

While everyone proceeded with the debate again, you communicated wordlessly, exchanging questionable expressions. Eventually, you grew tired of him clenching his jaw and sending deathly stares in your direction, and allowed him to enter your mind palace. 

How sinful it was to reminisce about him coming down at you on his balcony with the moon high above the horizon, covering in darkness everything but his emerald eyes watching you. Or hearing his surprised moans while you were licking melted chocolate off of his chest and adding more to his groin. Or the straps you occasionally strapped him in and he let you do whatever you desired. Or remembering his hand wandering from your lower back, following the spine to your neck, pressing it tightly, while delivering his best performance, leaving you gasping for air. 

You swallowed the rising temptation and bit your inner cheek.

Darling, I am afraid I do not see anything which would make you so distant…speak to me…

His eyes were profoundly searching yours. He was getting frustrated. So frustrated, his eyes darkened. And the fact that it was because of you made your heart pound faster. 

You stabbed another piece of meat and put it in your mouth, chewing on it slowly, not breaking eye contact, keeping him in uneasiness. He gritted his teeth so strongly the vein in his forehead appeared. 

Tell…me…tell…me…

You recalled the events of last night. How his promises of railing you against the bookshelves would take you to another universe, how he would throw you on his bed, doing all the wicked things he had been imagining with you the whole year when you were apart. Sadly none was kept, none was done.

‘If you would excuse me, I am not feeling well. Perhaps I have travel sickness. It was wonderful to see all of you again,’ you put down the fork, stood up from your chair, and while emphasising the word all, gave a long look to the man before you. Kissing your mother’s cheek, you bent down as low as possible for him to see your spine which could have been seen undressed from your gown last night, only for his reach and sight.

He cocked one eyebrow and you were sure he was watching your every movement.

You bid farewells and left the dining room, noticing him still in your mind. 

There was a small corner, primarily for servants preparing meals. To your luck, the servants were dismissed for this evening. And to your another luck, there was a large mirror at the right angle for someone in particular to see the interior of the cramped room. 

You closed the tall door and entered the adjacent room. Positioning yourself until you could see him in the mirror. He was still sitting in the same place, staring at the door which you left.

Can you see me, Your Highness?

You asked. He straightened himself up, scanning the room engagingly. Until his eyes rested upon the mirror, narrowing them in confusion. You smiled devilishly and began to slowly reveal your left leg through the slit.

Let me demonstrate my sudden unapproachableness to you…

His composure wavered over your words. Your fingers travelled up your slit, followed the seam on your hip, until they got to your cleavage, tugging at the laces, deathly slow. You noticed him swallowing playinly, hiding his parted lips behind his hand. 

If only you would have touched me like this…

You traced the shape of your breasts with your hands. Then slid them lower, and lower.

Shall I continue with my demonstration, Your Highness?

He sat in the chair dumbfounded, almost unable to blink. You were more than satisfied to see his response, and were willing to make him regret not keeping his promise. After a few seconds of silence, you took a step forward.

…do not leave…my goddess…

You chuckled, and started to undo the buttons above the slit, one by one, until the strap of your underwear was visible. You gave it a pull, and then let it snap against the hip, making yourself pant.

He was absolutely frustrated. 

You slid your hand into your underwear, firstly between your folds. Then you started rubbing your index finger on your clit, gasping and fluttering your eyes. You made sure his vision would be occupied with the image of him doing the same to you.

…why are you doing this to me…

When you inserted the index finger inside, you looked in the mirror. He was leaning against the back of the chair, twitching, adjusting his crutch. You could swear his eyes were darkened with lust, and put in unbearable agony. 

Without further questions addressed to him, you inserted a second finger. You felt the arousal rise with increasing circle movements, and your legs began slightly trembling. When you added a third finger, the climax was slowly approaching. The sweat was building up on your forehead, warmth wandering all over your skin. 

…Loki…Loki…

For a brief moment, you opened your eyes to observe his stance. His eyes were closed, breath heavy and hands were tangled in the raven locks. You knew you had fulfilled your intention. Reaching your climax, you moaned his name for the last time, trying to remain standing.

Although he was used to your spontaneity, it never stopped surprising him. With divine lives like you had, a trace of curiosity was an appreciated moment brightening boring and monotonous day…or night.

You pulled yourself together after calming your rapid breath. Buttoning your corset up, you smiled at the accomplished revenge. Norns, the sight of him collecting every strength not to make a sound and expose himself; it made your blood boil with another wave of sensation. You tied the laces framing your cleavage and ran your fingers through your hair. Without casting a look in the mirror to see his current state, you left the cramped room.

Nevertheless, you should have looked.

When you entered the hallway and walked in the direction of your guest chamber, you heard footsteps; hard, hurried, furious. You dared to glance over your shoulder.

His strides were confident, fierce; the golden metal straps on his armour glistened in the sun shining through tall windows, making his hunched up, tense posture appear scarily powerful. He was clenching his fists, and fuming.

In all honesty, he was terrifying, almost frightening if you had not known him. On the other hand, it gave you chills all over your skin because you knew something was going to happen. To you, precisely.

You noticed him wetting his bottom lip taking in the sight of you walking in front of him. You had to gasp because of the adrenaline building up. He was a few metres away, but closing on you.

You turned sharply around the corner to the hallway leading to his chambers. With every step you took, your legs started to tremble in anticipation. You swore you could hear him breathing on your neck, but you were unable to turn around.

…why are you scurrying away from me…

…let me show you…my perception of the matter…darling…

When you arrived at the door of his chambers, he was right behind you, pressing on you for you to feel the consequence of your actions. A hard one. He pulled your hair so strongly your head fell backwards, exposing your neck for him to wrap his other hand around it, forcing you to listen. 

‘When you are in my home, it is very improper to touch yourself…without my permission,’ he growled through gritted teeth in your ear, leaving you without breath, ‘is it not, Y/N?’

You wanted to nod, but were unable to do so.

‘I asked something,’ he said and strengthened his hand on your neck. 

‘...yes,’ you sighed, pressing on him back, feeling his throbbing pride.

‘...yes, what?’

‘…Yes, my king,’ you said and he let go of your hair abruptly, making you waver.

‘Perhaps I have not made myself clear, allow me to rephrase myself,’ he said with a hint of enlightenment, turning you to himself. You were veiled in his tall shadow which added to his sheer dominance over you. And made your heart sink in your underwear. He shoved his knee between your legs for his thigh to feel your pulsating folds, pierced his eyes into yours, shaking his head and wetting his lips, before continuing his monologue in a raspy voice: ‘no one is permitted to touch you as long as I am alive.’

Your arousal resulted in an inaudible moan at which he smirked and weakened his grip around your neck. You stared in his eyes, full of confidence and blazing with rage. You desperately wanted to kiss his lips, to undress him right in this hallway, but you caught yourself waiting for his gesture.

He opened the door, pushing you inside. You tripped over the long train of your dress, but kept balance. He shut the door after him, watching you walking backwards with a playful smile on your face. He grabbed you by hips and, in a blink of an eye, pinned you against the promised bookshelves, shoving his knee again between your legs.

‘Because you are mine…every inch of you belongs to me…’ he whispered in your ear. You could smell his pine cologne, invading your common sense and dignity. He was so close, yet his hands were kept away from you. You swallowed plainly.

‘...your lips…your neck…’ his finger followed his words, slowly tracing the mentioned parts of your body, leaving after itself a path of goosebumps. 

‘...your breasts…’ he stopped there. His fingers untied the lace, revealing only a small fragment of your chest. You exhaled heavily. 

‘...your hips…your thighs…’ he continued, without breaking eye contact. He touched the buttons above the slit, but did not undo them, which drove you crazy.

‘…and your cunt…which you violated, out of my reach,’ suddenly his hand got under your dress and cupped your burning folds, making you wheeze in surprise. He grinned down at you, closing and opening his palm, you tried to keep composure.

‘For the record, last night you did not even pinch her…so…I needed to do it myself,ʼ you said, clenching one of the edges of the bookshelf. He cocked one eyebrow, thinking, reminiscing, realising. And teasing you with his one finger sliding between your folds, making you gasp. His face got closer, breathing in your face.

‘...well, your incredible performance made quite an impression on me…’ he whispered, almost touching your lips. You were anxious, you longed for his lips. He was getting used to the power you allowed him to have, and he was good at it. 

You put your hand on his chest, still dressed in celestial armour, and slid it down, down his hand occupying your folds. In one snap, you tore the strap of your underwear, tactfully pointing to him to begin his performance, a better one.

‘...however, it is time for the director to take over,’ he whispered, inserting two fingers inside you all at once, and the chill spreaded down your spine before you could protest. You gasped and moved your hips closer to him. He kissed you fiercely, biting at your lower lip. His fingers circled inside you with unholy speed, with his thumb rubbing your clit. Your head fell backwards in pleasure, enabling him to mark you on your neck. Your hands were gripping his shoulder pads. You did not acknowledge the sharp edges of individual shelves digging into your back. He added a third finger, all of them bending, moving up and down, sending shivers and warmth to your fingertips. 

‘You are so wet…only for me, my darling,’ he whispered in your neck, making you cry in delight. His fingers were moving faster than you had expected.

‘Loki…Loki…I…’ you said hastily, gripping his shoulder pads tighter.

‘My name is the only thing coming out of your mouth tonight,’ he said with a possessive tone. You began to feel uneasy, but seeing his self-confidence turned you on so much you carried out his command with trembling legs and closed eyes. His fingers were still inserted in you, soaking up with your dripping pleasure. 

‘Such a good girl,’ he said, planting a hot kiss on your lips after he licked the fingers of you dripping off of them. Fluttering your eyelashes, you breathed out heavily several times, not noticing him taking you to his bed, tearing your dress in half, you ending up lying in front of him completely naked. He snapped his fingers, and his armour disappeared, revealing his toned torso, astonishing groin, and bulging pride. You sat on the edge of the bed, and looked up to his eyes, asking for permission. He drew aside the few loose strands of your hair. As your hands reached out to his throbbing shaft, he seized them, forcing you to lay down again.

‘No, my darling, the lead has other lines to utter,’ he growled, kneeled before you and started to lay wet kisses from your thigh, continuing on your inner thighs, your pulsating folds, on which he sucked, causing you to moan his name. You tried to entangle your fingers into his hair, but he pinned your hands to your sides roughly, giving you a frowned look. 

It was unusual, terrifying, but so fucking hot.

His lips proceeded higher, his tongue tracing around your belly button, and higher until he got to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts in his hand, playing with it, and then you felt the touch of his teeth. You cried in pain, curling your toes in pleasure. He moved to the other one, cupping it and nipping at it, making sure both had got the same care. His lips finally found yours, while his hands visited parts of your body belonging to him only. You kissed him hungrily, completely blown away.

‘You wished to be fucked, did you not, my darling?’ He said, interrupting the passionate kissing. You did not even understand him until he flipped you around, so you were on all fours, your limbs tingling in thrill after realisation. His hand slid from your loins, copying your spine, to the back of your neck. 

‘I asked something,’ after no response, he gripped your neck and forced you to kneel. You panted in surprise. His other hand was embracing your abdomen, slowly getting down. There were so many things you could not comprehend, but ultimately, it was exactly what you desired. 

‘...yes…’ his hand was getting closer and closer to your folds, caressing them. 

‘...yes, what?’ He whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You moaned when his fingers entered you again, now all three of them. 

‘...yes, my king,’ second after hearing these words, he pushed you back to bed, his fingers rapidly moving inside you, making you quiver. He planted a few kisses on your back, all while helping you to reach your climax.

Suddenly, he stopped, removed his fingers from you. You were caught unprepared for what was going to happen.

‘Norns, you feel so right,’ he inserted his massive and bulging shaft into you, reaching the sensitive spot under which everything in you crumbled down. You clenched the sheets and cried out his name, as you were supposed to. He thrusted into you mercilessly, all his strength channelling into individual movements, hitting the spot with each thrust. His hands were gripping your hips, moving them in sync. Your eyes rolled back in your head, sweat building up on your forehead. You could swear that in one moment, you saw stars high above the horizon. Adding to the thrill, his hand found your clit and began rubbing it, bringing you into unbearable madness. 

‘Loki…dear God…Loki,’ left your mouth spontaneously. He fit in you like you were made for each other, complimenting every movement, pushing each other to your bests. 

You were about to burst in ecstasy, you reached your hand to his thigh, feeling at least his skin on yours. With final thrust, you and him both moaned in pleasure, absolutely drained. Your hands were so weak you had to fall on your face. He shoved himself in you a few times to work his high off, planted one last kiss to your back and fell into the sheets beside you, breathing heavily. 

After minutes of silence, only hearing both of you gasping for air, you came to your senses, a soft breeze tickling your heated skin. You turned over to be facing him, staring at his wet hair from sweat, puffy parted lips and his chest heaving. 

You wrapped your arm around him, and intertwined your legs together. His skin was boiling, just as yours. He stroked your arm, entangled his fingers into your hair, playing with it, thoughtlessly.

‘I am starting to be fond of this side of you.’

‘Well…you should enrage me more often then, my darling.’

[feistynighean16]

Tease 🐍

⌜Loki x f!reader drabble⌝

inspired by @terrissoakedworld and this ask

warnings: language, 18+ bc wankst-talk, dom vibes

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

Loki who's secretly crushing on y/n keeps on mocking her until she silences him with a cheeky move...

“Loki, Jeepers!! Can you stop pouting for at least two minutes?” Steve huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose at the soreness of his eardrums.

Loki and you had been discussing whether you were the right one for this mission for the whole flight now. Your constant banter and bickering was bearable in the compound since your colleagues could’ve just gone their own ways. But here in the Quinjet flight was impossible. 

“Well, Rogers. I wish I could express my sincere apologies but I would have to be sorry for that first” the haughty god winked at Cap before devoting his silky voice back to your earlier debate.

Loki was annoying as hell, cocky criticism always seemed to drip from his every word. However, the dirty flashes in those emerald orbs were undoubtedly greedy, secretly craving more of you.

You knew that, your own mischievous nature making it your mission to rile him up. Targeted and fierce. Yes, today you chose violence. 

Loki cocked his head to the side, a piercing gaze fixed on your figure as you rummaged in the black bag, huffing as you tried to rip out the skin tight cocktail dress for the mission.

“Agent, respectfully, do you truly assume this little project is not too hard of a challenge for you?” he cooed, the baritone embedded in a layer of playful venom. 

“Mischief, respectfully, go fuck yourself” you snapped back with the same luscious sparks that could burn down a whole city if colliding with the deeper, sexual desires you secretly harbored for the aloof god.

And he did, too. 

“Language!” Steve aka captain killjoy immediately intervened causing you and Loki to roll your eyes in perfect symmetry. As if mirrored expressions of annoyance contorted your faces; a wordless testament to the same spirit lingering in your minds.

The boot and the ant, so different yet so familiar with each other. 

“Oh, that is what occupies your troubled mind, isn’t it darling? The sight of a god’s body on full display, your mortal eyes unable to fathom what glory is unfolding itself” Loki smirked devilishly, delivering a sinful mental image that only spurred you on further, spiraling your mind into improper actions. 

This sexy idiot asked for it with those darn innuendos, labelling his dick as 'glory'. Haughty assumption whereas you knew he was probably not lying.

The orange dress was finally dangling from your grip before being tossed on the seat in front of you.

Loki's seductive words didn’t seem to fade, the sound accompanying your hands that flew to the hem of your sweater. “I wager you imagined me touching myself to the thought of you, huh? Palming my cock and groaning your name while I take pleasure from my own hands”. 

Steve turned on the heel, obviously disgusted by his colleagues vulgar escapades.

“May god help us all” he muttered, rubbing his neck nervously as you pulled your sweater above your head. “Oh, you’re- you’re changing here- I just” he stammered like a child, instantly reddening before joining Natasha in the cockpit. 

A safer space for fossil virgins you supposed.

“Naturally you’re having quite the effect on mortal men y/n, but as a god, I-“ his insult faded in a hitched breath as you turned around, forcing narrowed eyes to be glued to your cleavage.

The playful lace bra hugged your boobs perfectly, Loki's gaze slowly veiled by the haze of desire. A tempting grin adorned your face basking in the effect your 'mere mortal self' had on this egomaniac alien. 

Theatrically clearing his throat, Loki continued his hymn of chiding accusations and sexual imaginary. Literal sexual debauchery almost.

“I am hard to please. My needs are beyond your wildest fantasies, pet” he purred so deeply, the same venom pooling in his tone but the flavor had changed. Sugary.

“Hmm” you hummed rather disinterestedly, delicate fingers latching on the hem of your leggings, pushing them down so very slowly, revealing inch by inch of your perfect curves.

“You, agent, a mortal woman so…” but his tone died in a sharp hiss.

Devastatingly lavish sways of your hips let the fabric slide down smoothly before you bent over to step out of the soft puddle hugging your ankles. It was pornographic but you were fed up with this fucking handsome god's bullshit.  

In the corner of your eye you saw Loki's stuck expression; mouth still agape from the dried out sentence and eyes mercilessly staring at your butt. You got him. Caught him in the allure of a mortal body, even though your intimate parts were still hidden by seductive, black lace. 

“…beautifully curved and tempting” the god whispered to himself, legs shuffling to cross and hide the semi-erect cock that was straining his leather pants so joyfully.

Carnal desire pumped through his veins like a wildfire, proofing that his feigned aversion and haughty behavior was a mischievous charade. A poor try to resist what Loki never thought was possible: attraction to a Midgardian woman of no Aesir blood or royalty.

Nonetheless, he wanted nothing more than to feel you gripping him wantonly and moaning his name and his alone.

“What did you say?” You chirped turning to face him and marinating in the desperate sparkle flashing in narrowed emeralds.

Every pore of your body sizzled under his piercing, analyzing gaze while your mind was happily expecting Loki’s final downfall. 

But the god didn’t answer, instead tilting his head, lavish curls spilling on his right shoulder and a not so innocent hand trailing down towards his crotch.

“Loki!” you exclaimed feigning shock, your delicate hand covering an agape mouth like in a drama play. “I thought it was just in my head… you using me as wanking material”.

Suddenly, he shot up with an angry groan, hasty strides bringing his tall body close in a mere blink of an eye until you were pressed against the cold metal wall of the jet.

You’ve poked the bear way too hard.

But that was the game and you loved nothing more than to checkmate the god of mischief. 

His pearl white teeth were gritted, shining just like the spotless skin on his razor sharp cheekbones. Loki’s features were twitching with need, inner eyebrows raised above darkened eyes. If gazes could kill, well… your cleavage would be dead.

“It’s rude to stare, you know?” you cooed like an innocent lamb slowly hoisting the dress to cut off his access to your gorgeous body.

A gesture Loki wasn’t too content about, a low growl thundering through his broad chest that smelled like Asgardian leather and ruthless pheromones. He always smelled good.

“You fierce, little temptress. Better not walk past my room after sundown or I’ll loose my poise. Once and for all“.

“So… we’re playing psycho and the beauty then?“ you purred, lower lips locked between your teeth, eyes batting up at the internally seething god.

“If you insist… pet“

thanks for reading

tags: @loopsisloops @muddyorbs @lokisgoodgirl @marvel-love24 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @crimson25 @vbecker10 @fictional-hooman @mischief2sarawr @mcufan72 @glitterylokislut @coldnique @gigglingtigger @wheredafandomat @michelleleewise @slaveforloki @queeryouth @loz-3 @123forgottherest @silverfire475 @xorpsbane @thew0rldsastage @ladyjames78 @simplyholl @huntress-artemiss @goldencherriess @animnerd @cakesandtom @lulubelle814 @holdmytesseract @heddgie @goblingirlsarah @trickster-maiden @yukio369 @sunnirealities @peaches1958 @ozymdias @mochie85 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @kalinaselennespeaks @lokidbadguy @lovingchoices14 @kats72 @sarahscribbles @thomase1 @eleniblue @joyful-enchantress

[feistynighean16]

The grey hair? The beard? The blue suit highlighting his eyes?? The stance????

Husband material. Daddy material.

[feistynighean16]

Writers, it's okay:

to be proud of your own writing

to write something self-indulgent

to celebrate your achievements

to have a bad day of writing

to hype up your own writing

to be kind to your characters once in a while. ok? it's ok

[feistynighean16]

Peak of demonstration

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Genre: self-pleasure, praising kink, semidominant Loki, smut, punishment (not physical), possesiveness, rough sex

Words: 3,5k

Summary: Sexual escapades belong to gods' eternal amusements, you had been having one with God of mischief for decades. Feeling dissatisfied after his last performance, you plan to show him what you need, and perhaps you receive even a compensation.

Let me…

His words echoed in your mind, reliving all the details from last night. Although you had been looking forward to the frequent rendezvouses during which you were discovering something new about yourselves every time, yesterday was…less than expected. 

Dull, more like.

You stabbed a fork into the piece of meat lying on the plate in front of you, not paying any attention to the ongoing debate. Light from the setting sun reflected off the golden cutlery, when shining at the right angle. When its ray settled on a part of your body, mellow warmth pleased you, wandered to your fingertips, leaving behind a path of goosebumps.

Unlike last night.

You looked up from your plate and stared at the person in front of you, with his trademark smirk and wishing to be elsewhere. You could relate to him with every inch, but refused to do so. Perhaps to deny the connection you had already had, perhaps to show what he did wrong, even though you were actually punishing yourself. You glimpsed at your mother who was talking passionately about something you took the least interest in with Ódin, nodding in agreement.

Being the daughter of Freyja, Goddess of love and beauty, brought several advantages; you took after her beauty, sincerity, and of course seidr, an inevitable divine instrument. And you were naturally skilled with other beings. For centuries, you had met hundreds who did not stay the same after meeting your grace. And he was no exception. 

Kiss me…I beg you…

You were always the lead, making the others listen to your command. There was a certain dominance, certain power that came within. However, two Gods meeting in the same room, demanding the same care, longing for the same control…very promiscuous consequences.

A subtle pressure on your foot made your eyes look at the source. He was piercing his eyes into yours, pretending to think about something that had been said, with his lips tensely pressed into thin line. His arms were crossed on his chest which was hidden beneath his celestial armour, hiding away from you every scar and every muscle.

Knowing him for decades, you both recognised and cherished what you desire. You had always tried to fulfil his wishes and in turn, he did too, sometimes encouraging each other to push one’s limits. Secret relationship prospered to both; even though it was only once a year. That kept you in suspense, longing, wanting. 

However, your needs were not met, not even in the slightest. And that contradicted the unwritten agreement.

He nudged your foot again. And again. And again. Until you looked up with a stone cold expression.

Harder…harder…

Locking your eyes, you moved your leg out of his reach, resulting in his furrowed brows. His eyes were clearly asking the cause of your detachment. You placed the meat into your mouth, ignoring him completely.

Naturally, you were attracted to him. But in this moment, you could only feel betrayed, narked, all while anticipating his redemption. And you knew how much he despised being left out.

Darling…

You felt something invading your thoughts, trying to break the mental boundary keeping them private. Rather someone. You narrowed your eyes at him, preventing him from finding the cause. He turned his head a little, raising his eyebrows at your intransigence. Then he moved in the seat and cleared his throat, insistently making efforts to gain your full attention.

It appeared to catch Frigga’s attention instead.

‘Y/N, how is the meal? I thought you might enjoy it tonight,’ she said with a smile. You forced yourself to break eye contact and focus on answering a simple question. You sat in the chair straighter, turning your head towards the host.

‘It is utterly appetising, thank you for asking,’ you responded with the sincerest tone. However, he used the distraction to his advantage. You broke down the invisible barriers of your mind, revealing an easy path for his seidr to find whatever he considered helpful. 

What thing is bothering your mind, Y/N? 

It is ludicrous you did not ask that last night…

While everyone proceeded with the debate again, you communicated wordlessly, exchanging questionable expressions. Eventually, you grew tired of him clenching his jaw and sending deathly stares in your direction, and allowed him to enter your mind palace. 

How sinful it was to reminisce about him coming down at you on his balcony with the moon high above the horizon, covering in darkness everything but his emerald eyes watching you. Or hearing his surprised moans while you were licking melted chocolate off of his chest and adding more to his groin. Or the straps you occasionally strapped him in and he let you do whatever you desired. Or remembering his hand wandering from your lower back, following the spine to your neck, pressing it tightly, while delivering his best performance, leaving you gasping for air. 

You swallowed the rising temptation and bit your inner cheek.

Darling, I am afraid I do not see anything which would make you so distant…speak to me…

His eyes were profoundly searching yours. He was getting frustrated. So frustrated, his eyes darkened. And the fact that it was because of you made your heart pound faster. 

You stabbed another piece of meat and put it in your mouth, chewing on it slowly, not breaking eye contact, keeping him in uneasiness. He gritted his teeth so strongly the vein in his forehead appeared. 

Tell…me…tell…me…

You recalled the events of last night. How his promises of railing you against the bookshelves would take you to another universe, how he would throw you on his bed, doing all the wicked things he had been imagining with you the whole year when you were apart. Sadly none was kept, none was done.

‘If you would excuse me, I am not feeling well. Perhaps I have travel sickness. It was wonderful to see all of you again,’ you put down the fork, stood up from your chair, and while emphasising the word all, gave a long look to the man before you. Kissing your mother’s cheek, you bent down as low as possible for him to see your spine which could have been seen undressed from your gown last night, only for his reach and sight.

He cocked one eyebrow and you were sure he was watching your every movement.

You bid farewells and left the dining room, noticing him still in your mind. 

There was a small corner, primarily for servants preparing meals. To your luck, the servants were dismissed for this evening. And to your another luck, there was a large mirror at the right angle for someone in particular to see the interior of the cramped room. 

You closed the tall door and entered the adjacent room. Positioning yourself until you could see him in the mirror. He was still sitting in the same place, staring at the door which you left.

Can you see me, Your Highness?

You asked. He straightened himself up, scanning the room engagingly. Until his eyes rested upon the mirror, narrowing them in confusion. You smiled devilishly and began to slowly reveal your left leg through the slit.

Let me demonstrate my sudden unapproachableness to you…

His composure wavered over your words. Your fingers travelled up your slit, followed the seam on your hip, until they got to your cleavage, tugging at the laces, deathly slow. You noticed him swallowing playinly, hiding his parted lips behind his hand. 

If only you would have touched me like this…

You traced the shape of your breasts with your hands. Then slid them lower, and lower.

Shall I continue with my demonstration, Your Highness?

He sat in the chair dumbfounded, almost unable to blink. You were more than satisfied to see his response, and were willing to make him regret not keeping his promise. After a few seconds of silence, you took a step forward.

…do not leave…my goddess…

You chuckled, and started to undo the buttons above the slit, one by one, until the strap of your underwear was visible. You gave it a pull, and then let it snap against the hip, making yourself pant.

He was absolutely frustrated. 

You slid your hand into your underwear, firstly between your folds. Then you started rubbing your index finger on your clit, gasping and fluttering your eyes. You made sure his vision would be occupied with the image of him doing the same to you.

…why are you doing this to me…

When you inserted the index finger inside, you looked in the mirror. He was leaning against the back of the chair, twitching, adjusting his crutch. You could swear his eyes were darkened with lust, and put in unbearable agony. 

Without further questions addressed to him, you inserted a second finger. You felt the arousal rise with increasing circle movements, and your legs began slightly trembling. When you added a third finger, the climax was slowly approaching. The sweat was building up on your forehead, warmth wandering all over your skin. 

…Loki…Loki…

For a brief moment, you opened your eyes to observe his stance. His eyes were closed, breath heavy and hands were tangled in the raven locks. You knew you had fulfilled your intention. Reaching your climax, you moaned his name for the last time, trying to remain standing.

Although he was used to your spontaneity, it never stopped surprising him. With divine lives like you had, a trace of curiosity was an appreciated moment brightening boring and monotonous day…or night.

You pulled yourself together after calming your rapid breath. Buttoning your corset up, you smiled at the accomplished revenge. Norns, the sight of him collecting every strength not to make a sound and expose himself; it made your blood boil with another wave of sensation. You tied the laces framing your cleavage and ran your fingers through your hair. Without casting a look in the mirror to see his current state, you left the cramped room.

Nevertheless, you should have looked.

When you entered the hallway and walked in the direction of your guest chamber, you heard footsteps; hard, hurried, furious. You dared to glance over your shoulder.

His strides were confident, fierce; the golden metal straps on his armour glistened in the sun shining through tall windows, making his hunched up, tense posture appear scarily powerful. He was clenching his fists, and fuming.

In all honesty, he was terrifying, almost frightening if you had not known him. On the other hand, it gave you chills all over your skin because you knew something was going to happen. To you, precisely.

You noticed him wetting his bottom lip taking in the sight of you walking in front of him. You had to gasp because of the adrenaline building up. He was a few metres away, but closing on you.

You turned sharply around the corner to the hallway leading to his chambers. With every step you took, your legs started to tremble in anticipation. You swore you could hear him breathing on your neck, but you were unable to turn around.

…why are you scurrying away from me…

…let me show you…my perception of the matter…darling…

When you arrived at the door of his chambers, he was right behind you, pressing on you for you to feel the consequence of your actions. A hard one. He pulled your hair so strongly your head fell backwards, exposing your neck for him to wrap his other hand around it, forcing you to listen. 

‘When you are in my home, it is very improper to touch yourself…without my permission,’ he growled through gritted teeth in your ear, leaving you without breath, ‘is it not, Y/N?’

You wanted to nod, but were unable to do so.

‘I asked something,’ he said and strengthened his hand on your neck. 

‘...yes,’ you sighed, pressing on him back, feeling his throbbing pride.

‘...yes, what?’

‘…Yes, my king,’ you said and he let go of your hair abruptly, making you waver.

‘Perhaps I have not made myself clear, allow me to rephrase myself,’ he said with a hint of enlightenment, turning you to himself. You were veiled in his tall shadow which added to his sheer dominance over you. And made your heart sink in your underwear. He shoved his knee between your legs for his thigh to feel your pulsating folds, pierced his eyes into yours, shaking his head and wetting his lips, before continuing his monologue in a raspy voice: ‘no one is permitted to touch you as long as I am alive.’

Your arousal resulted in an inaudible moan at which he smirked and weakened his grip around your neck. You stared in his eyes, full of confidence and blazing with rage. You desperately wanted to kiss his lips, to undress him right in this hallway, but you caught yourself waiting for his gesture.

He opened the door, pushing you inside. You tripped over the long train of your dress, but kept balance. He shut the door after him, watching you walking backwards with a playful smile on your face. He grabbed you by hips and, in a blink of an eye, pinned you against the promised bookshelves, shoving his knee again between your legs.

‘Because you are mine…every inch of you belongs to me…’ he whispered in your ear. You could smell his pine cologne, invading your common sense and dignity. He was so close, yet his hands were kept away from you. You swallowed plainly.

‘...your lips…your neck…’ his finger followed his words, slowly tracing the mentioned parts of your body, leaving after itself a path of goosebumps. 

‘...your breasts…’ he stopped there. His fingers untied the lace, revealing only a small fragment of your chest. You exhaled heavily. 

‘...your hips…your thighs…’ he continued, without breaking eye contact. He touched the buttons above the slit, but did not undo them, which drove you crazy.

‘…and your cunt…which you violated, out of my reach,’ suddenly his hand got under your dress and cupped your burning folds, making you wheeze in surprise. He grinned down at you, closing and opening his palm, you tried to keep composure.

‘For the record, last night you did not even pinch her…so…I needed to do it myself,ʼ you said, clenching one of the edges of the bookshelf. He cocked one eyebrow, thinking, reminiscing, realising. And teasing you with his one finger sliding between your folds, making you gasp. His face got closer, breathing in your face.

‘...well, your incredible performance made quite an impression on me…’ he whispered, almost touching your lips. You were anxious, you longed for his lips. He was getting used to the power you allowed him to have, and he was good at it. 

You put your hand on his chest, still dressed in celestial armour, and slid it down, down his hand occupying your folds. In one snap, you tore the strap of your underwear, tactfully pointing to him to begin his performance, a better one.

‘...however, it is time for the director to take over,’ he whispered, inserting two fingers inside you all at once, and the chill spreaded down your spine before you could protest. You gasped and moved your hips closer to him. He kissed you fiercely, biting at your lower lip. His fingers circled inside you with unholy speed, with his thumb rubbing your clit. Your head fell backwards in pleasure, enabling him to mark you on your neck. Your hands were gripping his shoulder pads. You did not acknowledge the sharp edges of individual shelves digging into your back. He added a third finger, all of them bending, moving up and down, sending shivers and warmth to your fingertips. 

‘You are so wet…only for me, my darling,’ he whispered in your neck, making you cry in delight. His fingers were moving faster than you had expected.

‘Loki…Loki…I…’ you said hastily, gripping his shoulder pads tighter.

‘My name is the only thing coming out of your mouth tonight,’ he said with a possessive tone. You began to feel uneasy, but seeing his self-confidence turned you on so much you carried out his command with trembling legs and closed eyes. His fingers were still inserted in you, soaking up with your dripping pleasure. 

‘Such a good girl,’ he said, planting a hot kiss on your lips after he licked the fingers of you dripping off of them. Fluttering your eyelashes, you breathed out heavily several times, not noticing him taking you to his bed, tearing your dress in half, you ending up lying in front of him completely naked. He snapped his fingers, and his armour disappeared, revealing his toned torso, astonishing groin, and bulging pride. You sat on the edge of the bed, and looked up to his eyes, asking for permission. He drew aside the few loose strands of your hair. As your hands reached out to his throbbing shaft, he seized them, forcing you to lay down again.

‘No, my darling, the lead has other lines to utter,’ he growled, kneeled before you and started to lay wet kisses from your thigh, continuing on your inner thighs, your pulsating folds, on which he sucked, causing you to moan his name. You tried to entangle your fingers into his hair, but he pinned your hands to your sides roughly, giving you a frowned look. 

It was unusual, terrifying, but so fucking hot.

His lips proceeded higher, his tongue tracing around your belly button, and higher until he got to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts in his hand, playing with it, and then you felt the touch of his teeth. You cried in pain, curling your toes in pleasure. He moved to the other one, cupping it and nipping at it, making sure both had got the same care. His lips finally found yours, while his hands visited parts of your body belonging to him only. You kissed him hungrily, completely blown away.

‘You wished to be fucked, did you not, my darling?’ He said, interrupting the passionate kissing. You did not even understand him until he flipped you around, so you were on all fours, your limbs tingling in thrill after realisation. His hand slid from your loins, copying your spine, to the back of your neck. 

‘I asked something,’ after no response, he gripped your neck and forced you to kneel. You panted in surprise. His other hand was embracing your abdomen, slowly getting down. There were so many things you could not comprehend, but ultimately, it was exactly what you desired. 

‘...yes…’ his hand was getting closer and closer to your folds, caressing them. 

‘...yes, what?’ He whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You moaned when his fingers entered you again, now all three of them. 

‘...yes, my king,’ second after hearing these words, he pushed you back to bed, his fingers rapidly moving inside you, making you quiver. He planted a few kisses on your back, all while helping you to reach your climax.

Suddenly, he stopped, removed his fingers from you. You were caught unprepared for what was going to happen.

‘Norns, you feel so right,’ he inserted his massive and bulging shaft into you, reaching the sensitive spot under which everything in you crumbled down. You clenched the sheets and cried out his name, as you were supposed to. He thrusted into you mercilessly, all his strength channelling into individual movements, hitting the spot with each thrust. His hands were gripping your hips, moving them in sync. Your eyes rolled back in your head, sweat building up on your forehead. You could swear that in one moment, you saw stars high above the horizon. Adding to the thrill, his hand found your clit and began rubbing it, bringing you into unbearable madness. 

‘Loki…dear God…Loki,’ left your mouth spontaneously. He fit in you like you were made for each other, complimenting every movement, pushing each other to your bests. 

You were about to burst in ecstasy, you reached your hand to his thigh, feeling at least his skin on yours. With final thrust, you and him both moaned in pleasure, absolutely drained. Your hands were so weak you had to fall on your face. He shoved himself in you a few times to work his high off, planted one last kiss to your back and fell into the sheets beside you, breathing heavily. 

After minutes of silence, only hearing both of you gasping for air, you came to your senses, a soft breeze tickling your heated skin. You turned over to be facing him, staring at his wet hair from sweat, puffy parted lips and his chest heaving. 

You wrapped your arm around him, and intertwined your legs together. His skin was boiling, just as yours. He stroked your arm, entangled his fingers into your hair, playing with it, thoughtlessly.

‘I am starting to be fond of this side of you.’

‘Well…you should enrage me more often then, my darling.’