laufeysonblog

[laufeysonblog]

Bum Bum Bum

Characters: Loki x reader

Summary: after flat sounds ‘My heart goes Bum Bum Bum”. “My illusionist..” she calls him. “Tonight you remember I wear green”. The prince was set to marry his good childhood companion Y/N. In their engagement there has been nothing but pleasurities and sincerity, love and honesty. Later into their engagement he ventures into the northern woods, there his mistress the giantess Angrboða waits, infatuated with her ways of insolence and pride there is an affair. Prince of Mischief, and trick forgets all of his sincere fiancée. ‘From a child she’d love him, she loved him now still, his mischief, his mistakes, his faults and she loved him. She forgave.’

Word count: 1799

Chapter: One

Warnings- NSFW Smut, angsts, Blood.

A/N- this is from the inspiration of Flatsound’s ‘My heart goes Bum Bum Bum’. Feedback is more then welcome. I have written before, but this is my first time ever posting to tumblr and I’m exited to see where this goes! This is something I plan on continuing if all goes well.

The present.

The Cumulonimbus, dark and unyielding they cast their silhouettes over the jagged reaching shore. The rain gives of herself unto the ocean, her droplets falling mercilessly into the sea, A startling low rumble rang loud in the Northern brisk air. The waves break around the rocks in the shallows in violent thrusts. The wind lashed in a torrent of its own as if determined to strike fear into the shores only land-dweller. The wind her nemesis, his sounds howl gusting about her body. The violin is her only companion in this storm. Its slender strings caress her fingers, its curves are tenderly traced under her palm, the instrument to her neck her bow skips among the strings, it’s assault pitiless.

The violin makes its attempt to yell over the waves, it’s voice becoming hoarse. Her companions holler reverberated in her ears like a clap of thunder like those of the storm, such was it’s rage. It’s anger livid. It’s anger made it Alive, no such thing could know such emotion. Instruments came only close to knowing honest vehemence, they came the closest to embracing it. Sharing it. The violin was of empathy.

Torrid emotion taken over. The brisk winds thrash her hair about her crimson cheeks, the heavens rains wet her satin slip too clutching tightly to her flesh. She looks just of the storm. Her legs quake, thretening to give in and she doesn’t. She matches the storm. Either of them threaten the other to give in first. She yells into the storms mighty roars. The heavens fight her. Behind her the cliffs rise towards the sky, she thinks them on her side in this quarrel with the storm.

Her name resonates over the winds. Her knees come undone.

The ocean wins. Her knees bleed over the stones.

Her violin in strings and splinters. A tightening in her chest, a chill creeps over her skin an unwelcome illy feeling. Her remaining thread of strength frayed before breaking completely, sending her plummeting to the stones, she yells profanities at the storm with al, that she has left, she accuses the rains and her heavens.

She’s held into a swaddle of his chest and his arms.

The arms so tight squeezed a fraction tiger, another yell from herself.

And she felt the quarrel within her coming to a ease. What he might have saw. What he might have thought, she’d never know. “He’s gone” comes a hoard voice. “He’s gone” Thor breathes.

……

Months ago.

The fire stirs. A same bitter wind. A same brisk rain.

In this forest he is with his tribe of wood and leaf, among the giants whose roots hug the earth. Their breaths rise in visible puffs and though there is a soft wind they are warm with one another. They were too old for outdoor sex; it really should be all silk sheets and petals, but he doesn’t care and neither does she. She being his mistress of the north woods.

The ground was slick with rain. Their lips moved in a tireless mess of hunger. Every kiss has a raw intensity - breathing fast, heart rates faster.

He breathes in the sin they erotically share. The pair were nude and their skin worked, moving together. His hand entered, whilst moving fast, their tongues intertwined in a mess of a kiss. The women’s teeth snatched his lips, and he licked hers. And then he’s inside, changing her breathing with every hungry thrust, he groaned hearing her moans chimed with his body. He feels her heated flesh. Then all at once he stops, taking her breast in his lips. His hand caresses her curves, he’s using his fingers and his tongue all at once. She’s moaning wildly, her nails remained tightly clasped into his scalp. They come to a climax together their moans resonating wildly.

Angrboða was a Jötunn casted to the Aæsirs woods, she alike any giantess, though she lacked in size and aspect . Her flesh was a milky white, what stood from this was her pink colored lips and the shadows that rested in the crease of her eyes. She, much like him was a shifter of aspect. Angrboða adorned her flesh in white unruly furs, the rest in animal skins that barely covered her breasts, her charcoal hair was pinned, with thick ringlets falling from her shoulders and clipped braids in gold. Blue tribal markings showcased around an eyes, her cheeks and descended from her bottom lip to her chin.

Their limbs mangled together they lay in piles of fur beside their fires embers.

His hand strokes her arm, a silver rings their about his ring. A ring of promise, promises he had broke in this affair.

…...

There was kind of a gentle breeze you don't notice unless you stop and be present in the moment.

His mother Frigga sits on the bench. They sit under a gazebo, held by columns looking like those belonging to the Greeks. The benches and floor are made of marble, the cracks glisten with gold. The sweet, almost sickly, smell of flowers cut through the soft scent of the morning's dewy grass. What was only green a week before has become a garland of the most vibrant blooms. How they come from earth, sunshine and rain feels akin to magic, even though the science is well known. The winter should still be in force but already spring had pushed it back to moderate temperatures and the kind of gentle breeze you don't notice unless you stop and be present in the moment.

The wind sways Frigga hair, she wears a dress, blue skirts overlapping. She wears gold and white inscribed plates. A white scarf comes in the front. She’s beautiful. “Why son?, why?” She Demands. She holds her composure well, much like her son. But their is devastation riddled in her tone that not even she an illusionist could hide. She wrings her hands In her lap, a habit they both share. Loki stares towards the flowers. He could not face his mother. “Loki” she began. She knew of his affair. Odin had consulted her. Tears shed from her grey blue eyes. Loki says nothing.

“Your Fiancée Y/N is away in her room angry with you. nonetheless angry with herself. She Blames herself more then even you. This affair has devastated her, so young Loki, only a young woman and you’ve put her through so much already. Shame, anger, guilt..Why?” she demands mores after.

He says nothing. Overcome and distraught with her son she backhands him.

Shocked his head turns towards her quickly. In her grey, and his green eyes their are two different types of emotion, but each are riddled with restrained tears.

He stands as does she..”Loki, I am sorry” she says, genuine. Frigga had never disciplined her children in such a way. That had been the first and last time. “You seek some sort of explanation that may justify your sons infidelity..my infidelity, Maybe it was I distraught or confused..or bewitched.seduced..No mother, I entered the woods knowingly and left them with no heavy consciousness.” He does not lie. She tries to compose her anger.

She backhand him again. Angry, she does not apologize nor does she seem to feel bad. “My son, I as your mother do expect such better from you. I have taught you morals, have I not?” His mother seethed.

Silence. Only silence.

……...

The dress hugged and fell down her hips.

His hands caressed her figure. His fingers ventured over the fabric.

His thin lips touched her leg, and a breath slipped from her own lips. Carefully she worked at her earrings before the oak brimmed concave mirror. Loki’s fingers played at the brim of her short dress, threatening to venture farther. She stood and he was on his knees behind her, shadowing near. His head on her back he whispered to her, asking for forgiveness. He smelled of ale, his consciousness was blurry. As was hers. He slept with a Giantess. A mistress to the woods. The mistress infatuated Loki, with her insolence and pride.

The giantess was refreshing she recalled at the back of her mind. She had heard her fiancés whispers to his own brothers' companion, he’s tried to fit in with them, their weapons their women. Intoxicated he boasted of his giantess the pleasurities he had discovered with her. How she’d been so refreshing from herself. From their intimacy. She felt sick just of the remembrance.

“Please” he whispered, kissing her leg once more. Green gems matched her dress. She turned, kneeling before him. Her eyes searching for his dazed ones. He smiles for her a lopsided grin reaching for her hands. “No” she said, pushing them gently. His grin turns lopsided. She tilts her head at him. Looking. He shared so much with his giantess, he shared himself, they were to be married to be one, in doing what he did she felt as if he shared herself.

He comes to her palms on her hips. The prince looks up at her. Theirs a silence between them. A palm taken from her hip caresses her fabric covered thigh. “Y/N My love, I love you. It was you yesterday, it is you today it will be you tomorrow. For the rest of time it is you” he assured. He wasn’t afraid. His love adored him, him her prince, him her fiancé. From a child she’d love him, she loved him now still, his mischief, his mistakes, his faults and she loved him. She forgave.

Her fingers touched his cheek. And in his eyes, she saw confidence even in the daze of his eyes. Loki leaned for a kiss, her fingers from his cheek slided to his lips as she stared. “My illusionist..” She calls him. Her other hand is on his. She leans closer to him. “Tonight you remember I wear green”.

She leaves him there in their shared chambers to wander.

..................................

[laufeysonblog]

𝘉𝘶𝘮, 𝘉𝘶𝘮, 𝘉𝘶𝘮.

𝘈 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘧𝘦𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨.

𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮: 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥’𝘴 “𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘉𝘶𝘮 𝘉𝘶𝘮 𝘉𝘶𝘮”

“𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒'𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛

𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 ��𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢

𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎”

…

“𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 ���𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚎

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 '𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚎' 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝚒 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎

𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚜”

..

“𝚜𝚘, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍

𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎”

ｃｏｍｉｎｇ ｓｏｏｎ．