#Loki/Original Female Character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mochie85 · 1 year ago

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House of Cards

These Wicked Games Collections | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You and Loki finally confront each other about your feelings and what went wrong. Suggested Song: "Fantasy" by The Driver Era Word Count: 2.9K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut. Dominating/Controlling Loki, Angry sex, rough sex.

Loki’s room was dark and humid. Thick waves of moisture rolled to you from his en suite, bringing with it the scent of his soap and aftershave. He must have taken a shower moments before movie night, you mused to yourself.

As the latch on his door clicked closed, the fireplace roared to life startling you. The heat from the fire only made his scent grow deep and heady. Warm yellow light canvased the room. You followed the flicker of the flames as your eyes took in Loki’s private chambers.

There you were…alone in his room. His sanctuary. A rare opportunity to sneak around and find out more about the intimidating god of mischief. Nothing had changed since that fateful night when you challenged him to Blackjack. That following morning, you were too hurt and busy trying to get out of the mortifying situation you walked yourself into to appreciate anything else.

His desk sat in the middle of the room, facing his bed. A house of cards was meticulously crafted on top— an elaborate pyramid of angles and shapes. Some cards, magically teetering on their corners. You had forgotten your deck that night, in a hurry to leave and lick your wounds from Loki’s casual opinion of your relationship with each other.

You reached out to take one— a discarded card lying on the bottom layer. You focused on the filigree and the cherub on the back cover, greeting you back.

“I thought I told you to wait for me on my bed?” His deep voice froze your movements, squeezing the air from your lungs. You turned quickly to find Loki, already closing the final steps to you.

“Loki, I-” He didn’t let you finish as he seized your lips and invaded your senses once again. His fingers laced themselves in your hair. His other hand pulled your shirt off from behind, popping your buttons, and exposing your breasts that were already spilling over your bra from his groping earlier.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hoping to melt with him. You needed him closer. You needed his every being to get reacquainted with you. God, it's been so long.

His kiss was never-ending. He didn’t let you catch your breath, stealing your mouth every time you moved to inhale. His lips were so ravenous and demanding that it almost hurt. “…Loki…” you whined.

At long last, his fingers pulled your hair and brought your face up to meet his eyes. “You never do as you’re told, do you, darling? You never listen. Always worried about letting people inside.” His fist in your hair got tighter. His breath was hot and sweet; trying to hold back an emotion you had yet to work out. “Is that why you perfected your poker face? To hide the lies underneath?”

“What lies?!” you asked insulted and slightly afraid. “You lied to me! You used me just to play some game! Toying with me! Just entertainment for the night!” You tried to push him back, but his body was hard and unyielding. You pounded on his chest, trying to get away. But he trapped you in his arms and he wouldn’t let you go.

“You don’t listen! I have already told you, and yet you still pay no heed to my words! Do you even know how the last two weeks have been for me?” he said with a cold glare. “Torture! The moment you walked out of my bed, I started doubting myself. I started doubting you! I never thought you of all people would play me for a game like you do with your cards and tricks.”

He was furious! You had no idea how this would go, where Loki was going with his discourse. You knew Loki would never hurt you intentionally, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly anger and pain. Not knowing terrified you and it also sent a thrill down your spine.

You had hurt him. You can see that now. He was affected as much as you were that night. You could see it in the unshed glimmer in his eyes. “You do care about me,” you realized.

“And what made you think I didn’t?” he demanded. His hold on you tightened. To be in his arms and to know that he was holding back so much of his godly strength. It hurt to almost breathe in his presence. But that was nothing compared to the guilt you felt inside. It hurt to know that you had assumed the worst of him and failed to communicate what you wanted. That you had missed out on two glorious weeks of being with him.

“You said you liked playing games. The way everything unfolded…I- I didn’t know what to think. I had no idea you even looked at me that way! And in mere hours I was splayed like a toy for you in your bed, Loki! What was I supposed to think?! How was I to know that I wasn’t just another conquest for you? That your confession was true?” you yelled back at him.

“Does this feel untrue to you!” he bucked his hips to yours, pushing you against his desk. You let out a carnal moan as you felt the length of him rub against your awaiting clit- throbbing to feel more of him, to be closer to him. The pyramid shook slightly behind you but remained standing. “Perhaps, you need a little reminder…” he growled as he kissed your lips boldly.

Blurring colors started to form and solidify in your head. Memories took shape as if they were tangible moving pictures.

~Loki growled. His fervor and desire ruling all rational thought. “I love that you’re intelligent,” he said as he flattened out his tongue and lapped the juices flowing from your cunt. “…Loki…” “I love how clever you are.” He said giving your sensitive clit a soft kiss. “I love how you’re willing to play my games.” He laughed as he kissed his way up your stomach. He knelt up on the bed, towering over your lustful figure beneath him. His eyes were wild taking in your heavy breathing, your glowing skin, and how utterly besotted you were when you looked at him. Your eyes were hooded and pleading, missing his tongue. Your mouth was open, ready to beg him to continue. “And by the Norns, you look absolutely sinful laying on my bed the way you are now.” He lined his hard cock at your entrance and slammed his way inside your tight folds.~

You felt him thrust towards your aching cunt, as if he was reliving the memory himself. The heavy force of his illusion pushed you back into reality. The house of cards gave way and fell behind you in one fell swoosh.

“You love me,” you whispered to yourself. Tears brimmed your lids as you looked at the truth in his eyes. The realization was heavy and thick; along with the guilt of invalidating his feelings.

Loki closed his eyes as he leaned in to rest his head on yours. He took a deep breath, relieved you had finally understood what he was trying to convey. Your fingers brushed through his silken hair, pulling him closer. Your lips apologized for you as you assailed his beautiful face with kisses. Softly, one after another. His fervid cheeks. His troubled eyes. His sharp chin. He felt each kiss as a prayer of penance asking for his forgiveness.

Your velvet lips turned into passionate kisses the more you held him. Loki returned your fervor with as much desire, if not more. How long has he waited for this? Dreamt of this? Wondering if he’d ever get the chance to kiss you again like this.

He had already granted you his pardon- earlier tonight when you had confessed that you imagined kissing him instead of Rogers. Perhaps even earlier than that, when you sat down on his lap and acknowledged his presence, finally, after weeks of disaffection. You had his forgiveness, but not his mercy.

“Loki, I need you. Please,” you begged. You started to unbutton his shirt, your fingernails nicking and scratching at his creamy skin in haste. “Make love to me,” you whined, wanting to compensate for lost time.

He licked his lips and savored your words. “Oh no, pet,” he chuckled darkly. “Only good girls get made love to...” Loki pushed your shoulders down, laying you on his desk. Your eyes widened in shock as your hair flowed around you, weaving with the cards of the fallen castle. He pulled your legs forward, bringing your hips flushed with his hard cock. “…Bad girls get fucked!”

You took a sharp intake of air as his words rattled your nerves. You heard the zip of his pants as his hands held you down on his desk. He nudged the wet gusset of your panties aside and guided the tip of his cock at your entrance. You moaned shamelessly when you felt him inside you for the first time in weeks.

He let out a shaky breath as he dragged himself up and down through your wet lips. Slowly teasing you, making you squirm with need. “…please…” you said so quietly you thought it was in your head. “…please, Loki…”

He gave into your cries. Into your begging; and thrust quickly inside you. You let out a vulgar moan at the sheer length of him filling you completely. Your knees squeezed around his hips as you tried to slow his assault. Your nails dug into the soft wood of his desk trying to hold on. “Stop resisting, my love. I thought this was what you wanted?” he grunted.

Your hands gripped his wrist that was holding down your shoulder. He gathered your skirt around your waist and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into you. “Just a little bit deeper…fuck…When I’m…when I’m done with you…I’ll make sure…you can’t walk in the morning…” he vowed. “So, you won’t leave my bed like you did that day.” His rage was palpable and cloying.

“…Loki…” you whined. But that only made him go harder. Faster.

You held the edge of the desk above you, trying to meet his passionate thrust with your own. Strands of your hair fell off to the sides. Your back arched, and you could feel the cards stick to the sweat of your skin.

“You like this, don’t you? Look how wet you are for me.” He watched as your sweet cum coated his shaft, making him groan. You could feel it dripping from you with each hard thrust of his cock. “Do you like it rough?”

“…fuck, Loki…please…”

“You’re enjoying this too much.” His hand moved from your shoulder up to your throat. He grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, “Next time, I’ll just fuck you in front of the team. So, they can see what a begging mess you become for me.”

And he was right. You are a mess. And you are enjoying this too much. You had always prided yourself in being a tough and independent person. But when it comes to Loki, you didn’t hesitate to be cuffed and barred. You didn’t fight it when he chased you. You wanted him to catch you. You wanted his dominance.

Loki bent to hover over you, pinning your hips down to his hard desk. “You are not to leave me. Ever. Do you understand?” his breath came out labored and grunting. “You can storm out angry. You can yell, scream, and fight. Hell, I prefer it. But you are never to leave without returning and talking about it afterward. Is that clear?” He thrust deep to mark his point. You moaned loudly into the stifling air. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Say it!” he thrust again, demanding an answer.

“yesyesyes…please Loki…I’m a-about to…” you squeezed tighter around him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Come on then. Give it to me.” He demanded in your ear. You wrapped your ankles around his waist, keeping him locked to you. Loki stood back up, taking your wrist ad holding them down against his desk. You were trapped in between his corded arms. All you could see was the beautiful face of a god unraveling above you. His slanted brows and his gritted teeth, his deep voice grunting at the feel of your warmth around him.

You could feel the tight pull of his shaft against your walls when he dragged himself out and plunged back in. “Fuck baby, that’s it. Tighter. Come on.”

Your legs shook and you screamed his name one last time. Your orgasm pulses inside you, making every single part of you sensitive and euphoric. Loki followed soon after. His hips jutted forward with each grunt and spill of his climax inside you.

Loki bent over you again. He caged your head between his arms and kissed you softly on your swollen lips. Your hands roamed his back, feeling his powerful muscles contort and contract as he moaned above you. Your nails would scratch on his smooth skin whenever his cock twitched inside you. “Loki.”

Without breaking your kiss, he scooped you up from his desk and walked over to his bed. “…such a good girl for me, darling…” he whispered on your skin. “…taking me all in like that. Good fucking girl...” Your throat was hoarse and stung too much to answer anything above a sigh. His plush blankets welcomed you as he laid you down on top. “…and do you know what good girls get?”

You bit your lip to stop from giggling. Loki lined himself up with your entrance once again and pushed slowly. Your giggles turned into moans as he continued his rhythmic thrust against your heat.

“Look at me, darling,” he asked so sweetly. Your furrowed eyes caught his. “I love you,” he murmured. “I should’ve said it from the very beginning.” He continued at a tantric pace, keeping his stare at yours. You tightened around him and you got a more genuine feel for him. Every vein, every inch, pulling your moans from your lips and leaving you with nothing but the sensation of his love and adoration for you.

He looked deep into your eyes, and you could tell that he was close again. “I love you too,” you whispered. Loki let go. At the same time, your body releases itself into a climax. One of the strongest, and most powerful, ones you’ve ever felt.

His body sunk on top of yours. He was finally letting go of the weight and worry that he held these past weeks. And you welcomed it by holding him tighter against you.

You woke up the next morning, tender and stinging. The tiniest movement of your hips shot an aching soreness throughout your body. And you smiled. Your mind reeled at the memories of last night. After your shared confessions, Loki took you again in the shower, then on the floor, and then in the shower again. He fucked you in every conceivable space in his room. And then he would make love to every inch of your body afterward.

“Can you walk?” his voice was low and gravelly. The dredges of sleep have yet to release him from their grasp.

“Well, good morning to you too.” You playfully pushed him aside, pretending to be insulted. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a morning kiss.

“Good morning, my love…” he said with adoration. “…Can you walk?” he repeated. You rolled your eyes at him, smiling. You knew the answer before you even attempted to sit up and try to get off his bed.

Your hips felt out of place. Your thighs burned and screamed at being used again so soon after last night. And your feet could barely hold you up threatening to slip. “No, I can’t. Are you happy?”

Loki scooped you up making you yelp and grab hold of his shoulders. “Tremendously, so.” He said kissing you heatedly on your lips.

Nat sat in the conference room, reading Tony’s mission briefing from the night before. The rest of the team returned early last night and decided to join in on the movie. No one had noticed that you and Laufeyson were missing until Thor asked where his brother was. “They were both very tired. I think they might’ve gone to bed early,” Nat smirked.

And now, here she was watching the two of you come out of the bedroom hallways. A sudden giggle escapes from your lips. She looked over the paper and witnessed Laufeyson carrying you into the kitchen bridal style. “Put me down! I can walk now you know,” you whispered into his ear.

“Oh, darling. We both know I’m too good for that to wear off so quickly.”

“You pompous ass!”

“Yes, one that has your scratch marks all over it!” He gave you a quick peck on the lips, followed by his signature devious smirk. Loki pulled out one of the chairs and sat down with you on top of his lap.

Oh, this oughta be good! Nat neglected the rest of her work on the table and made her way over to the two of you. Loki had conjured a muffin and some coffee for you. While you sat on his lap feeding him grapes like he was Dionysus himself.

“You know, when I dared you to sit on his lap, I meant for the length of the movie,” Nat said coming up from behind you and sitting across the table. “Not indefinitely.”

“Your lovely friend here has been incapacitated, Agent Romanoff.” Loki smiled, nuzzling his nose against the smell of his shampoo in your hair. “I’m afraid she’ll need assistance from here on out. For the foreseeable future.”

“Stop it!” you chided him.

“Make me,” he teased.

⬅️ Truth or Dare | Hide and Seek (Coming Soon) ➡️

A/N: I guess I wasn't ready to let go of these two yet. This series wasn't supposed to have any major angst or plot. It was just supposed to be a collection of these two characters playing random "adult" games. So, I will try to get back to that thought and update whenever I think of something for them to do 😉.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine-blog @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish @capswife @dangertoozmanykids101

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kawaiigirly21 · 1 month ago

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I had a dream about this so I thought I should wrote it down before I forget it!

What do you guys think about a plot where Big Mom has a daughter with a man of unknown origin, all she knew was that he had horns, so any way, one day said daughter is minding her business carrying on and all of a sudden, she starts growing at a rapid rate. It's unstoppable and she almost destroys half the palace. While her siblings are reasonably shocked, Big Mom is over joyed at this occurrence. It's later found out that her father was actually a giant but like Loki from Marvel, never grew for some reason. And at the ripe age of 22, their daughter's giant DNA finally took over. Heartbroken over the fact she could barely move without scaring others and that her way of life had changed forever, she cries on the beach. And her cries are so loud, that Loki hears them all the way in Elbaf. Which causes him to to travel to Whole cake island and upon seeing her on the shores, still crying, he falls in love immediately. He demands her hand in marriage and the rest of the story will just be the two navigating marriage and the daughter navigating her new life as a giant.... Thoughts?

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 months ago

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AN: What? What's this? A Christmas miracle? Have I come home for the holidays with a classic 2012 Loki's at The Tower post Avengers fic?

Summary: Loki finds himself rather bored at the mandatory Tower holiday party. Lucily someone catches his attention. Once he's been seen at the party enough, he takes her off to the little apartment he has secred for himself for a private party that will leave her decorated, gasping and questioning where her allegiances lie.

CW: 3rd person, female Reader/unnamed female OC, Dub con, Fem receiving oral, M receiving oral, bondage with christmas lights, creampie, vaginal fingering, dom/sub undertones...

Loki couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was just as well. The party was boring and if not for being forced, he’d have left within the first thirty minutes. Attendance was mandatory, however, and it wouldn’t be doing him any favors to buck against this pathetic little order.

This party could hardly compare to the minor social hours he and Thor had attended in Asgard. The food was subpar; the drink was weak, and the music was not live. That final point offended him the most. The excuse they provided him with when questioned was security- as if there hadn’t been more than adequate time to clear a band.

At least she was there to entertain his eyes.

The little red dress she wore could have been painted onto her body. Every stitch of fabric clung to her curves, leaving little work for Loki to imagine what she would look like naked, spread out on his bed. His eyes traced each swell and curve of her body. She would be soft under a man, of that he was sure.

Heels sparked in the light, making sure his eyes were drawn to her feet only to trace up her legs. The short hem and the sparkling feet accentuated the length of her legs, making them look to go on for miles, though she wasn’t as tall as some.

She worked for Stark in some capacity. He had gathered that much easily, listening in on conversations. The details beyond that didn’t matter to him. They were as unimportant as the stray sparkles of glitter shed from her shoes as she danced with one man after another, leaving a subtle trail of where she had been.

The shoes were new, still shedding sparkles and purchased for this event. Between dances, Loki’d catch glimpses of her, running her fingers over red marks on her feet as she tried to soothe the ache.

She hadn’t known it when she picked out those shoes in the little shop or perhaps in the comfort of her home behind the screen of a computer, but those shoes would lead to doom and salvation for her.

Loki watched as she excused herself from the party, slipping her foot back into her shoe. She walked, a slight limp in her step from her aching feet and champagne glass in hand. No one looked for her while he waited, watching the door she had exited from. He had expected no one to follow or look for her. She had been mostly alone the whole hour she had been there, but he couldn’t be too sure.

What no one else would do, he did.

He set his glass on the table as he passed, walking as if he owned the building. He held his shoulders back and his spine straight. Those who dared to meet his gaze were rewarded with a cold look down his nose as he continued on, slipping through the doors he had watched her exit through.

The delicate click clack of her heels down the hall lead him to her, though with the trail of glitter flakes he did not need the help. His steps were near silent, the hard sole of his shoes muffled by a cushion of magic, suffocating the sound of each step he took.

It didn’t take long for him to close the distance. His swiftness was rewarded with the sight of her, leaning against a railing. She looked down at the city lights outside the window. The tower lights were dim, set low to be easy on drunk eyes and to set a more intimate mood, making the sparkling lights outside stand out in the darkness.

There were strands of holiday lights strung all over the hallway, just as there had been in the ballroom. These small bulbs provided most of the light in the spaces, casting a warm glow over everything while allowing for deep, dark shadows to take up residence in corners and under tables.

“Was the party not to your liking?” Loki’s voice startled her out of her thoughts as he stepped up next to her. The yelp that escaped her throat pleased him, drawing his lips into a charming smile.

“Oh, you scared me.” She clutched a hand over her pounding heart, flinching back as she realized just how close the stranger had gotten to her.

“My deepest apologies,” Loki waited for her to answer his original question and, after a few moments, she did.

“I’m kind of new here still,” she shrugged. “When you don’t know anyone, it’s hard to enjoy a party. Not that it’s not a nice party.” She quickly added the last bit after a moment, realizing that he was one of those who, for whatever reason, existed on the upper floors of her boss’ tower.

It was easy to forget that these people were The Avengers and The Avengers adjacent people. They were important, not just because they were beautiful, rich and, in the case of Tony Stark, her boss. Each one gave such an air of normality around them when she would run into them in the halls. It’s something she couldn’t explain if asked.

“I care not if you speak ill of Stark’s party.” Loki reassured. “I find it rather dull myself.”

“Why’s that?” she took a long drink from what was left of her glass, eyes focused on the glittering city lights. He made her nervous.

Loki looked down at her, taking the moment to admire her breasts in the low cut dress. He could only see a little more from this angle than he could before. The fabric clung close to her skin, protecting what little modesty her dress allowed. What he could see told him her breasts looked natural, not the plastic that woman here insisted on filling themselves with. He could also see that the fabric was thin, a risky move for a work party.

“Asgardian parties are rather… lustful affairs,” he said after a moment. That caused her eyes to snap to his. “The food is sweet and rich and our wine is as strong and free flowing as our affections.”

“Oh.” was all she could think to say as he plucked her glass from her fingers and swallowed the last of her drink without shame.

“We revel in all pleasures when we celebrate. We feast on everything, including the body.” Loki’s charming smile seemed so at odds with the words he said.

“O-oh” She wasn’t sure what she should say to that. Her wide eyes were trained on him, taking in the bluish tint to his slick black curls as the fairy lights twinkled around you.

That was just the reaction Loki wanted.

“Your dress and heels say that you had desired to be feasted upon. Have you gotten enough of the attention you craved?”

“Oh, sir, I wasn’t trying to-” She turned to face him, only to find him far closer than she had expected. Once again, as she was lost in the lights, he had closed the distance between them, causing her to back against the railing in surprise.

“Oh, but you were.” Loki reached out and pulled a few strands of her hair forward, letting the hair flow over his fingers. “Why else would you wear something so short?”

He sent a pointed look down at where the hemline of her dress gave way to her thighs before dragging his eyes up to focus on her breasts. “Or something so low?”

“I didn’t-” It was a lie. He knew she knew that. While it may not have been intentional at the time, attention was exactly why she dressed the way she did.

“Shoes to sparkle and draw the eye.” His eyes hungerly followed on the journey over her body his words were taking. “High hem to reward the eye for dragging its way up your legs. Thin fabric to caress your body as if it was but air, or perhaps a bedsheet. A low neckline to highlight your breasts and simple jewelry to make a man think you are bed ready.”

“Excuse me, I should go.” She tried to dart away, but Loki’s arms were quick to cage her in, palms resting against the handrail and fingers wrapping firmly around it.

“Must you?” Loki spoke softly, his voice rumbling in his chest. “I’ve feasted on Midgardian wine. I’ve feasted on Midgardian food. Now, I’d like to feast on a Midgardian woman.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea.” She struggled to make her voice sound as sure as she felt she needed to be. There was no way sleeping with Loki would be good for her career. But who would know?

Without warning, the railing behind her gave way. Fear flooded into her as the feeling of falling sent panic through her nervous system. She had no choice but to throw her arms forward and around Loki’s body for safety, squeezing her eyes shut. Everyone always said these insanely tall buildings were safe and yet here she was, getting ready to fall to her death because a stupid railing gave out.

Loki wrapped his arms around her as her feet left the floor. She felt herself moving backward, held by Loki’s body. They were not falling. He did not fall with her. Opening her eyes, the world shimmered around her in a shower of glowing green sparks.

Then she was in a different room. The railing hadn’t given out. She wasn’t in danger of falling. She was perfectly safe.

“There, now.” Loki said, not taking his arms from around her. “We can decide in private if we wish to continue the little party.”

“Where are we?” She tried to ignore the feeling of him pressed against her, battle strong body hidden under a well fitted black suit.

“Just a little apartment I rented for the weekend.” Loki said as he let her slip from his arms, fingertips trailing down her back and around her waist and greedily taking in the feel of the nearly nonexistent fabric with every lingering touch.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, momentarily taken aback by the glittering lights.

Whereas Stark’s party was flashy and exciting in its decor, there was a quiet calm to the apartment Loki had rented. Loki had no women in mind when he secured the short-term rental, but he had a desire for something more akin to the yuletide times of Asgard.

Warm woods, twinkling lights, and plenty of candles and fireplaces littered the space. While solstice on this planet was past by a few days, that didn’t stop the desire to let fires burn through the darkest nights of winter. It had been engrained in him as the only right way to spend the cold, dark season.

With a flick of his fingers, he lit the fireplaces and candles, bringing a living warmth to the space that the warm electric string lights could not give.

“Do you wish to leave?” Loki said, stepping closer to her.

“I don’t know.” She couldn’t help but feel at peace in the space. The warmth made her want to be there. “I don’t usually…”

The sentence hung left unfinished. She didn’t want to put words in his mouth or make assumptions. The reality is she rarely found one-night stands with strangers to be fun. Loki had a way with words, talking in riddles, saying a lot and yet leaving so much insinuated at best.

“Why not?” Loki asked, trailing a fingertip up her exposed arm.

“I just- I don’t usually enjoy… it with strangers. Attention is fine, flirting is fun but actually, with strangers,” she tried to make herself step away, feet failing to give you more than an inch.

“Are they bad lovers?” Loki asked, inching closer to his prey.

“No. Maybe?” She willed herself to shut up, but his cold blue eyes and the warmth of the room worked together to have her under a spell she couldn’t seem to escape. “I just am picky.”

“Than tell me what you like.” Loki circled her, sweeping her hair off the back of her neck. Loki’s breath fanned over her skin as he hovered behind her, touching only with fingertips.

“I can’t. I couldn’t.”

“Do you like your men soft and sweet?” Loki placed a chaste kiss against her shoulder, nuzzling her neck softly with his nose as his fingertips gave way to the palm of his hand wrapping around her, resting softly on her belly as he pulled her back against his chest.

Her breath caught in her throat and she wanted to answer, but couldn’t. For the whole of her life, she struggled with sexual frustration, unable to ask for what she wanted. It was dangerous. It hurt feelings. Men took it personally or as an attack. It was better to just accept what she was given.

Was that any different with Loki? Offending him was so much more dangerous.

“No?” he hummed against her skin. “Do you like it hard and demanding?”

Loki’s grip on her waist turned firm. His smile turned sharp as he littered love bites against her shoulder. Blunt nails dug into her as she weakly tried to pull away from him.

She shuddered with the change, pathetically trying to keep her reactions under control. In truth, she knew little what she wanted because she had been so scared to voice any interests, to explore anything.

“Do you like to be taken? Hard and fiercely? Do you wish to have what I can give you thrust upon you?” Loki’s hand dragged itself up from her stomach to cup her breast. He could feel her heart pounding under his fingertips with his words, giving her away.

“Yes,” she squeaked as he squeezed.

“The fabric is so thin it almost feels as if there is nothing between your breast and my hand.” Loki mused, biting harder on her shoulder.

She moaned and squirmed into him as his fingers pinched her nipple at the same time.

“You like that?” He licked where he bit, as if that would somehow soothe the hurt. “I will fuck you just how you like it.”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure what she didn’t know.

“Than we will find out together.” Loki promised, determined to feast upon his prize.

Leaving her breast, Loki pushed up and forward until he was cupping her jaw and pulling her to look back at him over her shoulder. He was ready to meet her, his lips savagely latching upon hers. Teeth grazed along the plump swell of her lower lip.

“Wait.” She pulled back. “I don’t usually kiss unless I’m in a relationsh-”

“You will kiss me,” Loki ordered, his lips cutting her words off. She tried to pull away again and was rewarded with his fingers tangling in the hair at the back of her head.

She wasn’t sure if she gave in willingly or not, but she kissed him back. His biting lips felt good against hers. The pressure of his fist in her hair, the pull against her scalp, made her tingle in a way she hadn’t been able to explain.

“Is that what you want?” Loki asked, pulling away. “Do you want my fist in your hair? Do you want me to dominate you and put you exactly where I want you, take you exactly how I want to and to give you orgasms exactly how I want to?”

“I’ve never,”

“I will ruin you for other men,” he promised, pulling her deeper into the rental, toward the bedroom by her hair and his body behind her. “You’ll know exactly what it is you want and no one will give it to you like I can. You’ll pray for me in the darkness while other men leave you unsatisfied.”

Loki pushed her against the wall and pulled the flimsy cups covering her breasts to the side, exposing both. The tension of the displaced fabric and the straps still on her shoulders presented her naked breasts to him, pebbled nipples begging for his attention.

He palmed her breasts, taking his time enjoying the way they filled his hands. He rolled and tweaked her nipples periodically, enjoying the way her breath would hitch in her throat and the way her back would arch with each painful pinch. She was ever so responsive.

“I do love the feeling of natural breasts.” Loki leaned down and ran his tongue over a pink nipple, slathering it with saliva before blowing an unnaturally cold breath on it. She gasped as the frosty cold bit at her sensitive skin. The bud of her nipple responded eagerly, tiny muscles tensing and bunching tp pull the skin tighter.

“You like the cold,” he told her, as if she hadn’t noticed this about herself at the same time. “You like the pain. You like the loss of control.”

Loki pushed her arms back against the wall when she reached out for him, hands seeking to explore his suit clad body as he was exploring her.

“Please?” she asked hopefully.

“You’ve not even begun to beg. You’ll touch me when I say.”

Loki pulled her from the wall, not giving her a moment for her legs to steady. Angles tangled together, making it easy for him to push her down on the bed. She bounced, breasts moving freely.

“Sir,”

He cut her off. “You will say my name while I take you.”

Loki’s hands rested on her knees, strong fingers gripping her. Large hands pushed them apart so that he could step between them. Smoothe, warm skin spread out under his palms as he pushed the hem of her tight little dress higher and higher.

“Wait,” she said, pushing herself up onto the palms of her hands. “Loki,”

“No,” he said simply. “You’re not wearing a single scrap of fabric under this dress, are you? You want me to stop, so I don’t see how badly you wanted to catch someone’s attention. You want me to stop, so I don’t see how much you’re enjoying this.”

Loki wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs when the dress bunched under her ass and wouldn’t go any higher. He lifted and dragged her toward the edge of the bed, her dress rolling under her lower back and exposing her naked sex to his eyes.

Greedily, he took in the sight of her with her hair spread out around her head, dress around her waist and breasts framed by the cups. Her knees were on either side of his thighs as he gazed at her. Oh, what a little present she was.

When she again tried to raise up on her hands, Loki pushed her down harshly with a palm to her chest. Tsking her, he fell to his knees as he slapped her pubic mound lightly.

She had been waxed, giving away the hope for a sexual encounter even though she had denied it. Shoving her thigh up, he opened her sex to him, a delicious fruit he was eager to feast upon.

“Let me taste you,” Loki demanded.

“No,” she again rose up but found her elbows struggled to support her weight when the palm of his hand struck her sex softly.

“I told you, I will have you.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Loki how her thighs twitched at the slight sting of the strike. “You like it when I strike your cunt?”

“No,” again she was on her elbows looking down at him.

He struck her cunt again, the sound of the contact against her folds echoing through the room with each strike. She flinched with each stinging slap, arched her back and slick built up at her entrance. Though his blows were far from hard, they stung more as his palm spread her wetness. The gasps that sounded more and more like moans were music to his ears.

Just as she began to really enjoy it, Loki grabbed her thighs in his hands and licked a long stipe up her slit. Her slick gathered on his tongue as he eagerly sampled her arousal. His tongue twisted and caressed her clit, only to disappear as she panted.

“Do you still desire I stop?” Loki asked, only to instantly repeat the action. He waited patiently for her answer as he took her clit between his lips. Harshly, he sucked and teased at it as she pleaded, though neither he nor she was sure exactly what for.

“Please.” Never had she really enjoyed receiving oral before. It always felt like a tease, almost good than over.

Loki was skillful with his mouth and well versed in reading the way his partner responded to his touches. When her body seemed to tighten up no more, he knew it was time for a change.

Reaching out with a fingertip, he marveled at how soft the folds of her cunt were under his touch. It was as if he was caressing the petals of a flower as he ran his finger tips through her folds, coating his digits in her slick. She flinched from his hand, not expecting the change of contact.

He followed the trail of wetness, finding its source and dipping in. Her body eagerly swallowed his finger as she gasped. Warm, wet muscles clenched and fluttered around his finger as he curled it inside her, stroking her soft walls.

Dragging the pad of his finger firmly against the top of her canal, he withdrew it. She arched under the pressure, tilting her pelvis forward in a attempt to run from the pressure.

Loki hummed in satisfaction, adding a second finger as he worked into her again. She was tight around him, body fighting while he pushed his fingers apart from deep inside her. She rewarded him with the sweetest sounds as he pumped his curling fingers into her again and again. Each thrust had her core tightening.

Fingers and tongue worked together as he played her sopping cunt like an instrument. The sounds of his fingers squelching in and out combined with her ragged breathing and gasping moans to make his favorite music.

She was embarrassed to fall apart under his touch. Throwing her arm over her mouth, she muffled her moans. Each breath that filled her lungs came slowly. She held her lungs under tight control. The way her walls contracted around him and the twitching of her folds under his tongue told the story of a restrained orgasm.

Loki knew she didn’t know what she wanted. It was scary for her to take the type of pleasure she wanted, she needed, from him. There was a world of immense pleasure she was too timid to reach out and grab.

He would thrust that pleasure upon her. Her eyes would be open to the pleasure she hadn’t dared to dream about. No longer would she be able to settle for mediocre love making. She would long for primal sex, for his hands upon her flesh and his direction.

As he rose from her soaked sex, she reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. For a moment, Loki allowed her to indulge in the affectionate touch. The lovemaking she was used to was soft, caring. He would allow her the moment of what she knew.

Once that moment was gone, he snatched her wrist up and away from him. He rose quickly and folded over her, snagging her other wrist as well and pushing them up. With her wrists pinned over her head, he hovered above her. The thin dress did little to cover her abdomen as she stretched out below him.

There was nothing left to Loki’s imagination as he raked his eyes over her exposed breasts. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, desperate attempts to maintain control. Squirming under him, she made a writhing temptation.

Loki lowered his torso just enough for her breasts to brush against him. Nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt. When he had discarded his jacket, she never knew. Loki had slowly leached the heat from the room and the cooler air had her nipples pulled tight and firm, pleasure sparking with every light touch.

Loki kissed her neck harshly, leaving a trail of wet kisses and harsh nips down her neck as he worked his way to her breasts. The sensitive bud of her nipple in his mouth had her mewling under him. For as much as she had tried to reject him, she was quickly becoming desperate for him.

“Remember Darling, I touch you, you do not touch me.”

The reminder spoken over her wet nipple, cool breath fanning over her, fell on deaf ears. Bare legs ran up his legs, wrapping around his waist. He growled a warning into her breast as she hooked her ankles together and tried to get some friction against her core.

The disobedience was rewarded with a harsh nip to her nipple.

“Ow!” She jerked from him. The way she flinched had her legs tighten around him.

“I said no touching.” Loki warned. “And yet you do not listen.”

“Sorry.” She whimpered as his tongue danced over the stinging nipple, yet her legs did not fall away from around him.

“Clearly, you cannot be expected to follow simple directions.” Loki pulled away from her. “I’ll have to do something to solve that.”

“What do you-” The sharp, stinging slap of Loki’s hand against her sopping wet pussy forced her question to end as a yelp.

“Take the dress off,” Loki ordered, as he looked around the room.

He could create cords, ropes, ribbons, or straps, but they didn’t seem quite right. This was a festive fuck, and he needed something to embody what the holiday season had become in Midgard.

Reaching out, he grabbed a string of lights running along the headboard and gave them a yank. The strand of lights fell in a twinkling rope. Another yank had the lights unplugged and they should have gone dark. Loki ensured they continued to twinkle and flash with a twitch of his finger.

“Stand up.” Loki’s eyes traveled over her body as she climbed to her feet, naked before him. “Turn around.”

“What are you doing?” she timidly asked, though she did as he said. She was a quick learner.

Loki grabbed her wrists and tied a loop of twinkling wire around them. He wound the wire cord up her arms, ignoring how she jerked and protested, knowing well that she didn’t really mean her protests. The twinkling lights wrapped around her chest, above and below her breasts, framing them in sparking lights.

He pulled each layer of wire tight around her. Loki spared not a thought about how the bulbs would surely bite into her skin. The way the lights lit up her naked skin mesmerized him.

“My, don’t you look like a goddess?” He was speaking more to himself than to her.

He stalked around her, taking in his latest art project in all her glory before reaching out, running his hand over the swells of her breasts. Shadows played over her skin, highlighting over every curve, casting shadows down her stomach.

He tweaked a nipple just as she relaxed. The gasp she let out told him much of how excited she was. He didn’t need her to voice the excitement, though. The slick running between her thighs as he pushed her to bend over the bed told him more than enough.

The lights were not long enough for him to use them to secure her legs as well, but that was okay. Loki used a silken black ribbon to tie her ankles to each foot of the bed, holding her legs spread wide as she struggled and failed to put herself in a righted position.

“Now that you’re all tied up, you won’t be sneaking any little extra touches, will you?” Loki stood behind her as he spoke, hands resting on the round curve of her ass. His thumbs caressed her, smoothing circles into the soft skin.

“It’s not comfortable,” she whined.

Loki slapped her ass in response, the sting pulling a shocked gasp from her. “It’s not intended to be.”

He patted her exposed cunt, the sound of the soft slaps far sharper than the strikes actually were. Her cunt was soaked, slick running from her opening in eager streams. She flinched from the contact, though he rubbed her folds soothingly after finishing the series of slaps.

Did she flinch from the sting or from the shame? Perhaps from both.

“You can try to tell me you don’t like this, but your body tells me another story.” Loki dipped three fingers into her opening. He leaned over her, using the leverage to push them deep inside. “You can try to tell yourself that you don’t like this, but you’ll long for this night for the rest of your life.”

“Loki,” she didn’t know what she was begging him for as she twisted and turned her torso on the bed. Each attempt to relive the pain from the lights digging into her skin just resulted in different lights pushing harder into her.

Loki unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. As his belt buckle clanked in his hands, he watched as she shifted to look behind her. She was very interested in seeing what Loki was working with, even as she pretended to be far too timid to as him to continue.

He pulled the belt from the loops in one smooth motion. For a moment, he considered just throwing it aside, but changed his mind. Folding the belt, he watched as she watched him, wide eyes looking over her shoulder. Loki swung it softly, enjoying the way she flinched harder from the contact.

“Did that one sting?” Loki didn’t wait for her to answer before softly striking her ass again with the belt on the other ass cheek.

The final strike was against her center, slick smearing over the fine leather. She yelped and jerked as far forward as her limited range of motion allowed. Tears gathered in her eyes as pain radiated out from her wet sex. Only when the belt thumped to the floor, did she begin to relax, peeking once again over her shoulder at him timidly.

He unbuttoned his pants and pushed the zipper down as he watched her watching him. There was no layer of underwear. As soon as the zipper fell far enough, his cock sprang free. The lack of tension sent his pants falling to the ground in a pile.

A twitch of his fingers had the clothes removed from around his feet. It wouldn’t do to be tripping over it. Walking around, Loki climbed onto the bed in front of her, sitting back on his heels.

She had to twist her neck awkwardly to see him. Most of what she could comfortably look at were his thighs and how his cock proudly stood up in front of his abdomen, just as Loki had intended.

“Do you wish to taste me?” Loki asked as she licked her dry lips and nodded her head hesitantly.

Loki leaned over her, grabbing the wire wrapped around her arms, pulled behind her back and lifted her up. If not for the assistance of his magic, the wires would not have supported her weight. He supported her body with a shelf of magic, a bed that carried just enough of her weight to keep the wires from causing any real damage.

It was as much a performance as it was an act of control.

Shuffling forward on his shins, Loki presented his erect member to her.

“Taste it,” he ordered. “Taste me. Take a God into your mouth and perform an act of worship.”

She did just that, tentatively licking the tip of his cock at first as Loki held it pointed at her mouth. She wrapped her lips around his velvety head as best she could and sucked hard, tongue swirling around him while she did so.

Loki scooted forward, thrusting lightly as he did so. He was careful not to push too far into her too quickly, giving her time to adjust her lips and mouth to his size. Soon he was thrusting into her mouth and she was choking, coughing around his cock as hit the back of her throat.

Loki watched her as he fucked into her mouth. There was nothing he didn’t see. He watched how her fingers would flex, straighten and curl as her throat contracted around him. He took in the way the lights on the wire dug into her skin, making ever so slight adjustments when they dug too harshly.

Spit ran down her chin and tears gathered in her eyes as he hit the back of her throat again and again. Mascara ran as wide eyes looked up at him, pleading.

“You’re such a mess.” Loki said, pulling the shaft of his cock out and leaving his head inside, so she could not speak without doing so around him. “What a beautiful mess. Who’s made you such a mess?”

“You.” The word was muffled and indistinct, only recognizable because he knew what she was trying to say.

“Say my name.” Loki ordered and she did.

The word was as muffled and fuzzy as he expected; the L being totally lost to the cock in her mouth.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Loki asked, twitching his hips forward in shallow thrusts.

“Yes,” she tried to answer, the word almost totally a moan.

“Do you want me to use you?” Loki asked and waited for her to moan around his head again.

“Do you want me to take my pleasure from you?” Again, he waited for her to moan.

He withdrew his cock and sat back, watching as she gasped for breath. She floated, parted lips panting for breath right in front of his cock, shiny with her saliva. The cushion of magic lowered her back down onto the bed as Loki stood, walking around.

Long legs shifted her weight from one sparkling heel to the other. It was nothing more than a desperate attempt to gain stimulation. The ribbons around her ankles tightened, the length growing shorter as her heels skipped further apart on the wooden floor.

It did no good. With how he had her legs spread wide, her folds were pulled open. He could see every part of her. Shifting her weight couldn’t even buy her the friction of her folds sliding and brushing against her pretty little clit.

“You’re squirming,” Loki teased, running a finger along the twinkling wire, painfully biting into her skin. “And leaking.”

“Please,” she whimpered as he stepped behind her.

“I don’t know,” Loki hummed as he grabbed a strand of lights, pulling them from where they had been wrapped around the banister. “You don’t look quite festive enough.”

“What are you-?”

Loki ignored her question as he fed the wire under the strands wrapped around her waist. Bulbs dug into your lower back as each passed through the tight space. He hummed as he worked, a festive tune with words in a language she couldn’t understand.

Shame and desire burned inside her as he wrapped the strand of wires down between her legs. Bulbs pinched into the skin where her thighs gave way to the puffy outer lips of her bald folds. He worked the wire through the front of the strands around her waist, making a glittering, twinkling farce of panties that lit up her cunt.

The remaining wire wrapped around her thighs, each loop passing lower and lower before he tied them off at your knees. It hurt how the lights dug into her skin.

“Oh, how festive!” Loki laughed. “I have half a mind to get some ornament. Would you like that?” He rubbed his fingers up and down her soaked folds as he spoke. “Bend the wires into tight little loops around your nipples?”

He plunged three fingers hard into her core, body making an obscene squelch as he spread them wide, making room for him. She moaned, no longer able to resist the feel of his control. Shame did not leave her, though it made her desire greater.

“Perhaps that is a game for another night,” Loki mused. “You will come back to me, after all.”

Emptiness was all she could feel as he pulled his long fingers from her. She wiggled her ass at him, begging for his attention with her body. All it earned her was a sharp stinging slap to her cunt, fingers dragging over her clit as he repeated the action a second time.

“Use your words,” Loki demanded, knowing full well that asking for what she wanted would be one of the hardest things she ever did.

“Please,” she whimpered. The nonspecificity of her request earned her another punishing slap to her folds, slick splattering against her inner thighs with the stinging force. “Please, fuck me.”

“There you go,” Loki purred. “I knew you could do it, darling!”

His praise felt mocking and oh, how she liked that. The way her cunt twitched, her hole fluttering and begging for him to fill her, told him more than the timid words she said did. Slick glittered over her folds, sparking in the twinkling lights. It ran down her tights, gathering over the wires biting into the fat of her thighs.

“You like being tied up, don’t you?” He ran the head of his soft cock along her slick folds. Each pass coated him with her nectar. “You like being at my mercy, under my control. This is what you’ve craved.”

“Yes,” she moaned your answer as his head nudged her clit, shooting pleasure through her nerves. Each pass, each strike, felt like her body was at risk of becoming little more than a live wire. She realized with a start that this time, perhaps she would actually get to cum.

“Who do you want to use you?” Loki asked, nudging the head of his cock against her opening, letting her slick seep out around him.

“You,” you tried to lean back only to have his hand plant on your back, pushing the bulbs digging harsher into your skin.

“Who?” He asked again, dangerous edge to his voice.

“Loki.” His name became a moan as he slowly filled her, inching his thick cock into her once inch at a time.

“Good girl,” he praised, hand running along her sides before he wrapped his fingers around a tight loop of wire. Using that as a handle, he thrust the remaining length into her harshly, his hips slamming into her ass. The bulbs of lights dug into her sensitive skin and bit his hips, though he didn’t mind the pain.

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpered as he stretched her around him, head seated deep inside her weeping cunt.

“We’ve only just begin,” Loki laughed, pulling his cock from her slowly before ramming himself back home.

Each thrust into her brought pain. She struggled with herself, battling against the desire to submit to him, to submit to how much the pain excited her. Harsh thrusts knocked the air from her lungs as she lay on the bed, spread open for him. Fingers flexed and twitched as she tried to each out for him, to touch the man who was so brutally taking her.

His heavy balls swung, slapping her clit in a soft echo of the pain his hands had brought her. Each thrust drug his heavy cock through her walls, demanding she submit to the pleasure he gave her.

“Loki,” she gasped out his as he fucked into her faster. Though her mouth hung open, gasping breaths filling her lungs, only to be knocked out as he rammed his cock into her, she couldn’t get enough air.

Saliva ran from the corners of her mouth, a mess of lipstick already smeared by how he had fucked her mouth smeared further into the wet mess her face was making on his bedspread.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, Loki.” Her body tightened around him as he drug her back, pulling her up by the wires around her arms. Her back arched as she hung by the wires. Spittal hung in ropes from her bottom lip as he thrust into her, the pace harsh and punishing. Her breasts swung, wires cutting more into the tips of the swells and then the undersides as their weight shifted.

Her orgasm built as he fucked into her, using her. Her foggy mind kept telling her that this was wrong. She never agreed to be tied up. She never agreed to be used. Did she?

Oh, but his cuck spearing her again and again felt so good. She was powerless against the pleasure he gave her. She couldn’t get away, even if she wanted to. Did she want to?

“Do you wish to cum?” Loki asked, leaning forward to cup her breast in his hand as he continued his harsh thrusts.

“Please?” she begged, body tightening around him as he pinched her nipple.

Loki decided it was a shame he had elected against decorating her like the tree she could have been. She’d look so cute, standing in the room’s corner, lit up, legs spread wide, with a vibrator tied to her cunt. He’d tie bells around her, let and hang her from a wire, let the bells sound as each orgasm ripped from her body as ornaments hung from her nipples.

Surly Stark wouldn’t notice her missing for a few days, at least while he kept her as his little yule tree. Perhaps he would. She bent so easily to his will. She’d agree just for the promise of the pleasure of being his.

“Loki,” she moaned as her walls fluttered, twitching and gripping his cock as it ripped through her walls. “Fuck, it’s too much. Too much.”

“It’s not,” Loki purred in her ear, pulling her back to his chest by the breast in his hand. His other hand ran down her body, soothing her flaming skin until he reached her spread folds. “Until I say it is.”

Every panting moan that left her lips shifted into a high-pitched whine as he slapped her clit.

“You’re such a pretty little slut for me. Look at you?” He slapped her clit again and again, stinging pain tightening her cunt around him as he withdrew his cock before plunging forward again.

“Whining as I shape your greedy cunt to my cock. You’re going to cum on me, aren’t you?” He chuckled darkly as he slapped her sensitive bud. “No one will be able to fuck you like you need. No one can take you like I can. You’re going to be my little pet slut, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she cried out as her body pulled impossibly tight around him. “Fuck, yes. Please.”

“Who owns your cunt?” Loki whispered, pinching both a nipple and her clit harshly at the same time. His cock twitched inside her.

“Loki,” she cried out, body clamping down on his cock harshly, orgasm claiming her with violent force. “You. Fuck, Loki! Loki!”

He came harshly, pushing her down onto the bed as he thrust into her impossibly hard and fast. Her walls convulsed, gripped him as she screamed his name, muffled by the bedsheets.

He came with a roar, shooting his seed deep inside her quivering cunt as he forced his cock into her again and again. Bulbs pressed into her ass and thighs with such force that she would have bruises come morning.

His thrusts slowed as she sobbed against the bed, overwhelmed by pleasure as his cock twitched, softening. She was wrecked, just how he wanted her. All it took was one powerful orgasm and the feeling of being unreservedly owned.

“Be my toy and I’ll ensure you are never left unsatisfied.” He rubbed his hands along her body, fingers tracing the layers of wire wrapped around you.

“Why?” You gasped as his hand struck your ass.

“Because if you turn me down, you’ll never get fucked like this again.” Loki laughed as he slipped from her body. His cum ran from her opening as he stepped back. “And you have spent all your life looking for someone to own that little cunt of yours, haven’t you?”

“I-” Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she fought to be able to think through the haze her orgasm left her.

“I’ll leave you to think,” Loki said, running his hand down her back. She gasped and leaned forward as he pushed two long fingers into her twitching hole, covering them in her juices. He smeared the mess onto her thigh as he walked away. “Call for me when you decide.”

“Wait-” you struggled, wanting to sit up, to face him. “You can’t leave me like this?!”

“I can,” Loki laughed as he picked up a book, stretching out on the small loveseat in the living space. “Think of it as a reminder of what only I can give you.”

#loki x reader #loki x oc #loki x ofc #loki x female reader #loki x original female character #loki x you #loki laufesyon x reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki marvel #loki smut

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allthenobodypplfics · 2 months ago

Text

Arousal Poisoning (Chapter 1)

Fandom: MCU Loki

Pairing: Soft Dark!Loki x Female Reader, or Soft Dark!Loki x Original Female Character, depending on reader interpretation.

Other Characters: Mobius, B-15

Rating: Explicit

Summary: This takes place in season 1, episode 2 of the Loki series; before Pompeii. Mobius takes Loki and a team of hunters to a Nexus event on some inhospitable planet. Mobius and Loki are supposed to investigate the event before the branched timeline collapse, but a trap poisons Loki and a (female) Hunter, causing them to fall into their baser instincts… Or, in other words, a sex pollen, drug-induced, rough sex smut fest.

Warnings: Soft Dark!Loki, Smut, Sex Pollen, Drugged Sex, Rough Sex, Consensual Sex, Slight Fluff

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Read on AO3

“Alright, team,” B-15 announced as a time door closed behind the last hunter stepping through. “This is one of the most inhospitable planets in this side of the galaxy, and the only thing here is this prison.” She pointed her thumb behind her where a formidable building lies. “This is where they chuck the most hardened criminals and toss away the key. Now, everyone inside is dead – they’re not supposed to be dead; that’s the Nexus event – so be prepared to see some horrible shit. The next guard shift change is in a week, so we have plenty of time before the branch collapses. We’re supposed to take readings and investigate the area; find out what the Variant took and why. Keep your eyes peeled and be careful of your surroundings. Let’s move.”

“How thrilling!” Loki quipped as he walked beside Mobius.

“Yeah, okay, calm down,” Mobius scolded, “don’t look so excited, you’re weirding everybody out.”

Loki huffed and jammed his hands into his pockets.

They entered the building and the first thing to grace their presence was a bloodbath.

One of the hunters whistled. “Yeah… everyone’s dead alright.”

A female Hunter made a soft sound of disgust at the back of her throat.

“Not used to the horrors of battle?” Loki mocked. “Thought you TVA agents have seen it all.”

“Don’t talk to me,” she deadpanned.

Loki’s shit-eating grin turned into a pout.

“Come on, Loki, make yourself useful.” Mobius pulled Loki further into the prison. “What do you see?”

“Death.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. What else? What was your Variant looking for?”

“How should I know?”

“Loki!”

“Fine, fine, give me a minute.”

The female Hunter followed along. “This doesn’t make sense,” she said. “The Loki Variant had been killing our people this entire time. They usually spared the people on the timeline. Why did they massacre everyone here?”

“Well, these are the worst of the worst, and I guarantee you the prison guards aren’t any better. Maybe… altruism?” Mobius replied.

The Hunter snorted, “A Loki? Yeah, right.”

Loki gave the Hunter a side-eye.

“Anyway, we’re not here to figure out why they killed everyone,” Mobius explained, “we’re here to find out what they took, why they took it, and what they plan to do with it.” Turning, he said, “Did you sniff anything out yet, Loki?”

“‘Sniff anything out?’” Loki spat. “What do you take me for? A dog? First I was a little pussy cat, and now I am a little lap dog?”

“Now, don’t get so sensitive–”

“I am not being sensitive, you are being rude–”

The Hunter left them arguing amongst themselves to take readings elsewhere. Her readings began to ping the closer she got to one of the hallways. There was… something… sitting on a table with a piece of newspaper covering it. She gingerly pulled the newspaper away and let it fall to the floor.

“The fuck?” she uttered. It looked like a huge flower bud the size of a basketball. The dark green sepals wrapping around the petals had golden veins running through them, veins that seemed to glow with a pulsing heartbeat. The very tippy top of the bud had some deep red petals peeking through. There was a sickly sweet fragrance emanating from the bud. Leaning closer, the Hunter could see a trickle of golden viscous liquid seeping from the top where the petals were. The bud twitched and the Hunter jumped back.

“Hey… guys?” the Hunter called out. “You should come check this out…”

Loki looked in her direction and his eyes almost popped right out of his skull. He pointed at the bud and screamed, “Stay away from that!”

Loki ran to the Hunter and grabbed her arm to pull her away from the flower, but it was too late. The flower popped and splattered its contents all over Loki and the Hunter. The Hunter grimaced as this golden, sticky, shimmery goop slithered down her face and body.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, what is this? Is this…” She touched her fingertips to her lips. “Honey? Nectar? It’s sweet–”

“Don’t eat that!” Loki furiously shouted as he slapped the Hunter’s hand away from her mouth.

The Hunter was shocked. “Wha–”

“Take your clothes off!” Loki demanded.

The Hunter belligerently narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“I know what this is!” Loki yelled as he grabbed the Hunter’s wrist and pulled her with him down a random hallway. “Where are the showers? Every prison has a shower wing! We need to wash this off immediately!”

“What the hell is going on?” Mobius called out as he followed them.

“Let go of me,” the Hunter snarled as she tried to pull her wrist out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t budge. His hold was so tight that he was grinding her bones together.

Mobius, sounding exasperated, sighed, “Where the hell are you going?”

Mobius reached out towards Loki and Loki recoiled, screaming, “Don’t touch us! We’re contaminated!”

“What?” Mobius snatched his hand back.

“With what?” the Hunter screeched.

“There!” Loki pointed at a sign for the washroom. “The showers! Quickly!” He dragged the Hunter towards his intended destination.

“With what?!” the Hunter repeated as she smacked Loki’s arm with her free hand. The goop caused his clothes to stick to her palm and it released with a wet squish. “Ugh! Loki, contaminated with what?”

“It’s- argh!” Loki was annoyed with the Hunter’s lack of cooperation. “It’s a very concentrated form of aphrodisiac. It’s usually used in very small amounts – and I mean very small; miniscule, and tremendously diluted – during feasts where – I’m not sorry to say – an orgy is the main event. But the amount that has bespattered us is deadly. So we must dispose of our clothes and wash the nectar off of our bodies. This is very potent; you don’t even have to ingest it – although you already did. Just letting it touch your skin is enough to feel its effects.”

“Holy shit!” Mobius’ voice cracked behind them.

“Holy. Shit.” The Hunter gasped as well.

“Indeed,” Loki scowled. “Now, come on.”

Loki shoved the Hunter through the door of the communal shower. She stumbled but he righted her and then stuffed her under a shower head. He turned the water on as hot as he could and left her there. She yelped and turned the water back to a more comfortable level.

“Hurry,” Loki said as he turned his own shower on and started tearing off his clothes. “Take everything off and throw it there, furthest away from you.” Loki pointed to the corner of the room. “Thoroughly wash yourself. Use soap – use a lot of soap – don’t just stand there, hurry!”

The Hunter tore her eyes away from the undressing god and quickly unclipped her helmet, throwing it in the direction Loki told her. She ripped the hair tie out of her ponytail, letting her dark, straight hair fall just past her shoulders; then she started peeling off her armor and utility clothing. There wasn't any shampoo, but there was a bar of soap sitting on a wall-mounted soap dish and she grabbed it. It squished out of her hand and jumped in the air. She did a small little dance as she tried to catch the soap, but it kept shooting out of her grasp. When she finally caught it, her relief at not dropping the soap was short-lived when she noticed a very large mirror stretching the width of the room on one of the walls.

“Is that a two-way mirror?” the Hunter cried, her lips curling incredulously. “Why is there a two-way mirror to view the showers? That is disgusting!”

Loki scoffed, “I assure you that this isn’t the only place that has such an amenity throughout the galaxies.”

“Agent Mobius, you and the team better not be watching us!” the Hunter yelled.

Mobius’ voice rang through a loudspeaker. “Sorry, kid, I promise we’re not looking. It’s just me and B-15, okay? Hurry up and wash that crap off.”

“Why the hell did the flower explode?” the Hunter hysterically squealed as she frantically rubbed the bar of soap into her hair and face.

“It was overripe,” Loki answered. “It’s normally harvested long before it gets to that size.” Loki tilted his head up to catch some water to rinse his mouth, but he, too, already swallowed some of the nectar earlier so it really didn’t make much of a difference now.

“Ugh, it doesn’t wanna come off!” the Hunter squeaked in a panic.

“Just keep washing! Don’t stop!” Loki told her.

After a few minutes, the sounds of frenzied scrubbing slowed and stilled. The Hunter suddenly felt dizzy and she fell forward, placing her forearm against the shower wall. She wheezed and leaned her forehead against the cool tiles and let the water run down her hair and back. She closed her eyes and swallowed. This growing… yearning… was steadily building in her groin to the point of pain.

“Oh, crap…” she grumbled.

The sound of the Hunter’s voice caused a violent tingle to run down Loki’s spine. He shuddered and clenched his jaw as he tried to even out his breathing. He glanced at the Hunter to see her back towards him. She was practically shrinking into herself; she was biting one of her fists and her shoulders were trembling. He huffed as he looked down at himself and watched his cock harden and grow.

He shook his head and chuckled, “It’s too late.”

Loki’s unhinged laughter caused Mobius to glance up and see Loki slowly turning to look at the Hunter, his eyes burning with desire, his breathing came out heavy through his parted lips; his chest was heaving as if he had been running a marathon.

“Hey…” Mobius’ voice piped through the loudspeaker. “Nooo…” he scolded as if to a dog about to do something they shouldn’t – like humping someone’s leg. Except this wasn’t a dog and he would do a lot more than hump the Hunter’s leg.

Loki eyed her from the top of her head to her feet on the floor. She was a young recruit. Well, young was subjective, as time moved differently at the TVA. She could have been working there for decades, maybe even centuries, and still look to be in her twenties; barely pushing thirty. She had an athletic build, showing that she had been a fighter for many years. Her shoulders were broader, slimming down to a smaller waist, giving her a bit of an upside-down triangle figure. Her arms were somewhat thickened with firm muscles, as were her thighs and calves. His eyes lingered at her delightfully round and lifted ass.

“Loki…” Mobius dragged out the “i” in Loki’s name in warning.

Loki turned completely and started to take slow strides to stand behind the Hunter. The two people watching behind the mirror caught a glimpse of the god’s cock; it was fully erect… and very well endowed.

“Oh, shit!” B-15 spluttered before coughing and clearing her throat, embarrassed at her little shocked outburst.

“Loki, no!” Mobius continued in the same scolding manner. “Now, you stay away from her! Don’t you touch her!”

And Loki touched her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What did I just say?” Mobius snapped, the loudspeaker creaking with feedback. “Loki, get away from her!”

Loki ran his palms down to her upper arms and squeezed. He didn’t use his full strength, not even a fraction of it, but it was hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his gorgeous hands on her skin. He pulled her back towards himself until she could feel his length pressed against her tailbone.

“Loki, stop that! Bad, Loki!” Loki could almost imagine Mobius wagging his finger at him if he wasn’t so engrossed in the naked woman in front of him.

Loki wrapped an arm around the Hunter’s torso, cupping one of her breasts; it barely filled his large hand. He placed his other hand against her abdomen, but it was slowly slinking lower. The Hunter’s breath hitched as her jaw went slack and her lips fell open. She leaned her head back against Loki’s shoulder and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the side of her neck.

Mobius smacked the two-way mirror and yelled, “Loki! Let her go!”

Loki gave Mobius the middle finger salute.

“Well, fuck you too!” Mobius smacked the mirror again.

Loki let out an irritated sigh as he gestured towards the two-way mirror and it completely frosted over in white, keeping prying eyes from getting a free show.

Mobius screamed, “God dammit, you stop that, Loki! Stop that right now!” With a flick of his wrist, Loki crushed the loudspeaker in a glittery swirl of green. It let out a metallic shriek before it became blissfully silent.

“Oh, that mischievous scamp!” Mobius glowered as he stomped his way out of the nasty-shower-watching office. “That mischievous horny scamp!”

“Mobius, what do you think you’re doing?” B-15 grabbed Mobius’ arm and pulled him back into the office.

“I’m going in there and separating those two!”

“Are you crazy? They’re contaminated! Do you wanna go in there and start an orgy? ‘Cause I don’t! You don’t know how… sticky… that goop is! It might not be washing out; it might still be stuck on them. You wanna start touching them and pulling them apart?”

“B-15, they’re drugged.” Mobius sounded frustrated as he waved his arms around. “They don’t know what they’re doing; they can’t control it. They can’t consent. It could really mess them up!”

“If they survive,” one of the other hunters snorted.

B-15 glared at the tactless hunter and he snapped his mouth shut, having the grace to look abashed.

“Get out,” B-15 ordered as she pointed to the exit. “When the hell did you get in here anyway? Pervert. I will write you up!”

She turned back to Mobius as the hunter scurried out of there.

“They’ll probably be fine.” She sounded unconvinced, but she wasn’t willing to step foot in the showers and she would not allow anyone else to go in either. They had no idea what the nectar did; if those affected would just… make love until they died. B-15 cringed at her own description of the matter. It was hardly “making love,” it was more animalistic than that, but she didn’t want to think “mating” either because that just sounded worse. She’d be damned if she allowed anyone else to fall under the same toxin and… made love to death. She cringed again. But, considering one was a god and the other was human, it was more than likely the human wouldn’t survive.

“They’ll be fine once they get it out of their system,” B-15 added while nodding, still sounding unconvinced.

The squeal of feedback from the smashed loudspeaker jolted the Hunter. Her eyes widened and she blinked hard, shaking her head. Her wet hair slapped and stuck against her face. She took a few gasping breaths and, in a moment of clarity, pushed away from Loki; stumbling her way towards the exit.

Loki’s lips curled in indignation as he gestured towards the door and a blast of green magic jammed the lock into place, keeping the Hunter trapped with him while keeping everyone else from interrupting. He grabbed the Hunter by her wrist and yanked her back. She slipped, but he caught her and shoved her against the wall. She tried to step away again, but he wouldn’t allow it and pressed his slicken body against hers. Hot water from the shower fell over them.

“Nowhere to run to now, little agent,” Loki chuckled as he brushed her wet hair out of her face to get a good look at her. She was cute, he could say that much. She had a slightly round face with big eyes and full lips.

“I’m not an agent,” the Hunter slurred, as if drunk. “Mobius is the agent. I’m a hunter – a soldier.”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Loki placed two fingers under the Hunter’s chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“B-38.”

“That’s not your name,” Loki sneered.

“That’s all I know.”

“Alright then…” Loki leaned in and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Little Bumble Bee.”

“Don’t call me that,” B-38 said as she shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. “Don’t give me any pet names. That’s weird. We’re not that close.”

“Well, we’re about to get a lot closer.” Loki firmly pressed his lips against hers. She grunted as he pried her jaw open by squeezing her cheeks and he unceremoniously drove his tongue down her throat.

B-38’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her knees gave out. She would have sunk to the floor if Loki wasn’t holding her up.

“Aw, hell. Screw it,” B-38 thought as she got her feet under her, reached up, and raked her nails into Loki’s back; kissing him just as aggressively.

The kiss was messy. Their teeth clicked and their noses didn’t align quite right and were a bit smashed against each other’s faces. Loki ground his rock-hard cock against the Hunter, and she kept shifting and squirming until she was able to get the positioning right and felt his length rub against her clit. She whined against his mouth and he swallowed her cries.

Loki pulled away and tugged her hair back, forcing her to crane her neck; then he pressed his lips to her throat – rough kisses and bites that hurt just as much as felt good. He slowly trailed down until he reached her breasts, pausing to admire them – they’re small with caramel-colored nipples. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and she moaned. B-38 tangled her fingers into his wet hair and raised one of her legs to wrap around his hip. He grabbed her thigh harshly to keep her there. He drew a line with his tongue across her chest to lavish attention to the other nipple, twirling his tongue around it before licking it. With his other hand, he reached between them and cupped her cunt. She instinctively ground against his palm and drenched him with her arousal. He released her nipple from his mouth with a wet kiss; then he straightened and grabbed her chin to make her look at him. Her lips were parted and her breathing came out in heavy gusts. Her pupils were blown open; he could barely tell she had brown eyes when almost all he saw was black. Her entire face was blushing a deep crimson. He could tell the flower’s toxin had taken hold of her completely; he wondered if he looked the same.

Loki positioned the tip of his cock to her opening and watched her face as he callously thrust into her. She yelped at the very sudden invasion; then leaned forward and bit his shoulder in retaliation. He grunted but didn’t push her away. The one leg she still had on the floor was shaking uncontrollably as it was on its tippy toes to accommodate his height. He hooked his other arm under that leg and lifted her completely off the ground. From that position, his cock sunk even deeper into her; she groaned against his shoulder.

Loki started his thrusts long and slow, feeling her tight walls mercilessly squeeze against him. She freed her teeth from his shoulder and tilted her head back; the water from the shower rained down her face. He was the largest she ever had and she could feel him stretching her just almost shy of pain. When he shifted and began to pick up speed, hitting her at just the right spot, her eyes fluttered close and she moaned loudly, “Oh, God, please, please, please…”

Loki laughed breathlessly, “Are you begging?”

B-38 inhaled sharply and then she sputtered, “No.”

“Don’t stop,” Loki demanded; his smile full of glee. “I like you begging. Beg me like a wanton whore.”

“Stop that.” Her face twisted in annoyance.

“Alright, darling, forgive me,” Loki relented, his voice lilting. “I was too crude. My gentle Bumble Bee deserves tenderness.” He slowed his momentum and leisurely pumped in and out of her, teasing her and driving her insane.

B-38 let out a sound of frustration; then she snarled, “Will you just shut up and fuck me? Stop messing around!”

“Not so gentle then,” Loki chuckled. His face then grew dark as he ruthlessly slammed into her.

B-38 shrieked and then choked on her gasps to keep herself from screaming her lungs out. He was practically jackhammering her at this point; their flesh obscenely slapping against each other. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails into him. She was half sobbing, half moaning. It hurt so good. Tears ran down her face, but neither she nor Loki would notice as the water from the running shower masked it.

Loki muttered into her ear as he fucked her silly; muttering pure vulgarity. He cursed her beauty and he cursed her sweet weeping voice. He cursed her perfect tits and he cursed her impossibly tight cunt. He described to her in very detailed imageries exactly how tight she was; how her cunt just kept greedily swallowing him up and not wanting to let go. He told her he wanted to fuck her wide open and make her bleed on his cock, but they were just words. He didn’t mean it and he didn’t do it. He told her such deliciously horrible things; so atrocious that it made her cry harder and harder as he fucked her harder and harder with every terrible thing he said.

B-38’s orgasm took her by surprise and she wailed, throwing her head back and accidentally smacking her skull against the tiles. Her quivering tunnel clamped down on Loki and he gasped, feeling his own orgasm nearing. He came with a soft cry and buried his head into her neck. She was a little surprised because it sounded quite vulnerable. Lokis were a lot of things, and vulnerable was never one of them. She found it quite endearing…not that she would ever say that out loud. In a moment of impulsiveness, she tugged at Loki’s hair until he looked at her, then she placed a soft kiss against his lips.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

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#loki #tom hiddleston #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfic #mobius #mcu #marvel #soft dark!loki #soft dark loki #loki x reader #loki x original female character #loki x female reader #allthenobodyppl writes

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darknight3904 · 2 years ago

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This Love Masterlist

Back to Main Masterlist

Started: November 3, 2023

Finished:

ɢʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ʟᴏᴋɪ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱᴛʀɪ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴ ɪɴꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀʙʟᴇ ᴘᴀɪʀ. ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ, ᴀꜱᴛʀɪ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴀʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴏᴋɪ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴛʀɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇᴅ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡꜱ ʟᴏᴋɪ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱᴛʀɪ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴏʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀꜱ, ᴛʜᴏʀ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ᴛʜᴏʀ: ʀᴀɢɴᴀʀᴏᴋ, ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀꜱ ɪɴꜰɪɴ��ᴛʏ ᴡᴀʀ, ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴇɴᴅɢᴀᴍᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴋɪ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ʜᴀʀᴍ/ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴀʟ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ. ᴀʟʟ 18+ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘᴀʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇꜱʜɪꜰᴛɪɴɢ

ʜᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴀᴡꜱ

ʙɪʟɢᴇꜱɴɪᴘᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢʀᴇᴇɴ ᴅʀᴇꜱꜱᴇꜱ

ɢᴏᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘɪᴇꜱ

ᴍɪᴅɢᴀʀᴅ'ꜱ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀꜱ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ

ʙᴜʙʙʟᴇꜱ

ᴊᴏᴛᴜɴʜᴇɪᴍ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴅʏ

ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋꜱ

ʀᴇᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ꜱᴀɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴍᴏɴᴀᴅᴇ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ

ɪɴᴠᴀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴄʏ

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siennafrxst · 1 year ago

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🔭 ₊ ⊹ ~֒ forgive

pairing: loki laufeyson x female reader

universe: mcu (marvel cinematic universe)

timeline: during thor ragnarok

word count: 0.7k words

cw: hurt/comfort

click here to visit my fanfic masterlist.

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You continue to stand observing the stars from afar, glimmering luminously before your eyes. Asgard has just been destroyed due to the events of Ragnarok and the people have lost their home — for now. They were currently heading towards Midgard via a spaceship to take refuge there. Midgardians were one of the lesser intelligent species across the nine realms, but they could be very welcoming at times. Maybe they could build a new life over there…

Footsteps begin to advance towards you from behind, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and turn toward the disruption, only to spot the God of Mishcief approaching you.

A surprised yet secretly pleased expression forms on your face at the sight of Loki. You hadn’t had a proper conversation with him ever since your… fight. About him faking his death twice and impersonating Odin for years and posing to be king and betraying all of Asgard and especially you.

Yeah. A fight was one way to put it.

“Loki,” you breathe softly.

Loki connects his emerald eyes with yours, seeming to be holding something back. He was never one to hesitate, you knew that. He was always so outspoken — you’ve never seen him so rattled like this.

“I… I’m sorry, and I love you,” he mumbles in a soft tone, breaking the eye contact.

Your eyes quickly shoot up towards his, surprised with his sudden burst of affection. Before you could even gather up the words to speak up, he interupts you.

“You don’t have to say anything or even forgive me, but… I realize that I haven't been the best partner to you, and for that I am.. sorry. You have only ever been good to me, and," he stops himself to gently grab your hands and pull you closer. "You deserve so much more. I promise to you that I will do better. If you will let me.”

He sighs deeply, finally maintaining the eye contact and taking a step towards you.

“I’ve missed you since the moment you walked away from me, and I deeply regret letting you go so easily. That will never happen again — I promise.”

After all these years, you are finally hearing the words you’ve been longing to hear from Loki — and then some. You always thought it was a farfetched fantasy, but for once, it actually feels as though he was willing to change. That this time might be different.

You’ve already made the same mistake — twice — forgiving him then only for him to repeat the same mistake and somehow make it worse than how it was before. But, that’s the thing. Even after all his lies, all the betrayals you have endured because of him…

You never once regretted forgiving him.

“The Loki Odinson, God of Mischief, owning up to his past? My, where have I been this whole time?”

Loki playfully rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, darling.”

A soft yet meaningful smile curves on your lips as you take a moment to process the last word that he said.

“You haven’t called me that since our fight.”

“And you haven’t looked at me with those eyes ever since I faked my death.”

“With what eyes?” You raise an oblivious eyebrow, fully knowing what he was talking about.

Loki softly shakes his head at your teasing before you let out a light chuckle once more. You gaze upon the long-haired frost giant, biting your inner cheek as you watch Loki being vulnerable to you for the first time.

"Loki," you call out in a soft tone, one gentle hand snaking up to his shoulder. "I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have let go of you so easily either. You were right — I was too quick to give up on us. But, never again. This time, we’ll try even harder to make things truly work. Agreed?”

A soft smile forms on his face — one that was sincere in a way that he never usually shows.

“Agreed.”

Before you could even react one more second, Loki cuts you off with an action that he only does once every blue moon. An action that neither of you can even recall when he last did it.

You feel gentle arms wrap you in a warm embrace. Being in his mere presence made you feel safe and at home — in a way that not even your physical home has ever made you feel. But being with him — reuniting with Loki once more — you knew, with the utmost confidence, that he was your true home. And there was no place you would rather be.

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likes and reblogs are vv appreciated.

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lokisbirdofhermes · 4 months ago

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You are the owner of The Honey Trap: a New York meadery, and who should walk through your door but the sons of Odin, having landed on Midgard after Ragnarok, seeking the richest nectar of the gods that you can offer to them. Companion pieces. Post Ragnarok, pre Infinity War AU.

Donate to my Ko-Fi, if you feel so inclined.

#loki #loki x reader #birdofhermes #fanfiction #loki/reader #ao3 #fanfic #fanfics #mcu #thor #thor/reader #thor/original female character #thor/you.#loki/you #mead #meadery.#viking lore #norse lore

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tangledmelody · 5 months ago

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The Beast of Asgard - Loki Laufeyson x Female Original Character

A canon non-compliant fic heavily inspired by Disney's beauty and the Beast. Featuring gothic vibes, sexual tension, and my personal favorite character from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Read onward if you're looking for something with a slow burn, mutual pining, and eventual explicit themes. (Yes, this is shameless self promotion. I like seeing the little numbers on ao3 go up- sue me.)

Written in first person POV with a named female OC intended to be interpreted as a reader insert. There are references to her backstory and thoughts, so I wouldn't consider this a true reader insert.

This fic eventually delves into darker themes, including but not limited to: vivid depictions of mental anguish and anxiety, implied and referenced mental illness/anxiety, panic attacks, sexual harassment, general misogynistic themes, and eventually explicit and detailed sexual content. Said sexual themes will include dream sex (including scenes where one party is unaware that said dream has actual, real world consequences), dubious consent potentially interpreted as non-consent, and general debauchery.

Sorry for the clunky formatting. I haven't used Tumblr in many years.

Chapter One

Find me on AO3

CHAPTER ONE - Winter's Call (Alina)

Word Count: 2,582

I once asked my father to define the difference between a house and a home.

“A home,” he had said, voice deep in that reverent tone he sometimes used when he was lost in thought, “is full of love.”

He had sighed then, gazing longingly at the portrait hanging above the fireplace. My mother was always the first to greet visitors and that hadn't changed after death. Her eyes had been painted as stoic pools of blue and her mouth was rendered as a thin straight line. It was a near perfect likeness of her, but it missed all the things that had made her so beautiful in life. There are so many details of a person's life that a portrait cannot capture, and so many stories that a eulogy cannot sum up.

My mother was a force of nature. She was stubborn and proud and most of all she was kind. She was kind when it mattered and she was kind when it didn't. She had told me once that kindness counted the most when it didn't matter. That when you choose to be kind, even when there are no consequences for choosing not to be, that those are the moments that define a person.

My mother was the glue that held our family together. Now that she is gone the pieces of our family portrait have started to fall out of the frame. My father is starting to fray at the edges. His corners have started to curl inwards- away from mine. We are two moons without a planet, and we have lost the one thing keeping us within the same orbit.

If mama was here… she would know what to say. She would have greeted me when I tumbled through the doorway. Her arms would have been open and warm and inviting. But most importantly, her eyebrows would have crinkled together in that peculiar way that they always had when she was concerned. She would have held me for as long as I needed her to, and somehow she would know, just as she always did, when I was ready to pull away. And then, just like she always did when I was upset, she would pour me a cup of steaming hot tea and we would sit in silence until I was ready to form words again.

Except she isn't here. And my father isn't here. And I am alone.

It's a rather unfortunate thing to be alone with one's thoughts in the dead of night. Particularly when one's thoughts are full of fear and anger and *panic*.

I rip my gaze away from my mother's portrait, still covered in the bolt of gauze-like, black fabric that I had draped atop it so many years ago. She cannot help me now. I have to get through this on my own.

. . . . . . . .

My thoughts are still too loud.

I stand - too suddenly, haphazardly and jerky. My feet have grown numb and I stumble forward on my leaden legs. My limbs carry me to the door, movements stilted, as if I am a marionette. I am a doll on strings, not fully aware of my movements, not really questioning them at all. Something inside me tells me to leave, and I listen- foolishly and recklessly. But I do listen.

My thoughts are full of everything and nothing. I am a rabbit, a deer, a prey animal- stumbling across the threshold, eyes wide, head swiftly turning left to right. My coat, brown and soft and downy, hides my body from the harsh winter. It is a camouflage I don't remember donning. Had I ever taken it off?

The wind whistles through the empty streets as I slip out of the dimly lit cottage I call home. It grazes against my cheeks- a bitter reminder of the sudden drop in temperature. I step onto the snow covered streets, grateful that the moon illuminates them from above. My footsteps form a staccato rhythm, boots crunching noisily over the freshly lain blanket of snow.

I watch my breath form icy clouds as I venture farther from home. My footsteps disappear quickly as I walk. The biting cold seeps through my coat and I pull it tighter against myself. I am a smudge of brown against a stark white canvas. I stick out against the landscape. I am as obvious against the snow as the colorful buildings of the village that surround me.

I walk past my home, past the little garden that had died out a month ago. I pass the stained white fence- paint chipped from all its years of use. My feet take me toward the library. It was my sanctuary once, not so long ago. But now- now I cannot stand to look at the pale blue building.

. . . . . . . .

My breath quickens to form short panicked gasps. My fingers, frozen and unyielding, clamber at my face. I touch my cheeks, my nose, my chin- looking for any and all evidence that proves that I am *here*. That I am *safe*. That I am *alive*.

My head turns back toward the village houses, unbidden. They have transformed into barely visible specks scattered across the winter horizon.

I am the only one brave enough to face the storm- or the only one stupid enough.

I turn away from the village, and in doing so I turn away from the memories. I have to shut them out- have to keep walking- to keep moving. I can no longer afford to stand still. Not when my thoughts are rattling against my skull, crashing violently from one moment to the next.

I can barely recognize the way the landscape shifts and changes as I continue blindly forward. I can focus only on putting one foot in front of the other. My thoughts are too loud to focus on anything else. I am pushed forward by instinct alone.

I keep walking.

When I’m far enough from the village that I lose sight of the lights shining through the windows of my neighbor’s houses I break off into a run.

My heart pounds in sync with the sound of my boots crunching over the field of twinkling snow. The wind throws fat white flakes of snow into my eyes. The world around me blurs. I am half blind in the dark.

I keep running.

. . . . . . .

Moonlight flickers through the branches above me as I run deeper into the unknown. Branches snap underneath me as I go- harsh and loud against the silent night. I lurch forward, unsteady and unsure on this new terrain. I run with my arms held up over my head; branches slide and snap over my coat, some of them carving light scratches into my skin.

I don't even know what I'm running from, but everything in me screams to move, to run as fast as I can. So I do. I keep running.

I am exhausted. I keep running.

. . . . . . . .

I am brought back into myself with the harsh sting of a branch hitting tender flesh. I reach up with one hand, cupping my frozen cheek with numb fingers. The sticky sweet scent of blood wafts through the air as I bring my hand away.

My legs stutter, as I clumsily slow to a stop. The trees are so close together that I have lost sight of the moon. The forest here is dense- a tangled tapestry of trees and bushes and scattered foliage. Everything is messy and wild and so *unfamiliar*. It aches.

My muffled heartbeats roar in my ears as I struggle to catch my breath. I fold myself in half as I desperately try to force my lungs to work.

My mind returns to me slowly; my thoughts return to me all at once.

It occurs to me now, that I am standing in the middle of the woods, half frozen and utterly lost, that this was a bad idea. A terrible idea in fact. The realization that I have absolutely no idea where I am makes the air around me feel colder, or maybe I am only now realizing just *how* cold it is now that I have finally stopped moving.

But he is not here. He is not with me.

*I am safe*.

. . . . . . . .

I twist desperately trying to find a landmark, anything that I can follow to take me home, and am terrified to see that my footsteps have already disappeared underneath the falling snow. There is a field of nearly identical trees in every direction. I am cold and I am exhausted. I have nowhere to go. I don’t even know where I am.

I think of my father and how he is doing on his journey- wonder if he is on his way home yet. Will he make it back early only to find that I am not there? Will he even realize that something is wrong- or will he even care? I think about my neighbors and how most of them probably won't realize that I've gone missing. I think about the library with its cozy alcoves and the occasional potted plant peeking through the shelves- a place of refuge turned into a grim reminder.

My hands ball into fists as the memory twists. He has made so many things unbearable- turned so many cherished memories into something bitter and unpleasant.

I barely register the way my palms ache as I dig my nails into the tender flesh- can barely feel the icy cold as it rises up to greet me.

The icy shock of snow hitting my knees jolts me out of my thoughts, the bitter cold seeping through my skirts. I adjust myself, so that I can pull my knees to my chest.

It's quite possibly the stupidest thing I could be doing right now, but I don't care. I'm cold. I'm angry. And I'm frightened. I have nowhere to go, no refuge from the weather. I'm lost and hopeless and quite possibly going to freeze to death-

And I don’t care.

I cry until my lungs collapse underneath the weight of the sound. I don’t know how long I sit like that for- knees clenched tightly to my chest, curled up onto the frozen earth. My neck aches when I move to look at the night sky above me.

I flinch as the cold air hits my face. Twin trails of tears under my eyes carve icy rivers into my cheeks and they fall, one by one, onto the snow-capped forest below.

I watch as birds carve a frantic path through the air. I feel a surge of jealousy go through me when I realize that I’ll never be able to find my way through the forest as quickly as they have. I wonder if they can even see me from their vantage point in the trees or if the forest has swallowed me whole.

. . . . . . . .

Time has been moving in strange ways today. I can’t decide whether I’ve lost minutes or hours in the forest.

My chest aches. My lungs feel like they are coated in ash.

I can no longer feel my face. I’ve long since lost the feeling in my fingers and toes.

I am pulled out of my thoughts by a flash of green light. The vibrant light stands out against the muted, ink-stained landscape around it. I have to force myself to look away from the shining light. It shimmers before fading out- shifting hues too quickly for me to name any particular one.

It leaves a raven behind.

The bird tilts its head left and right. It gazes at me slowly, like it’s assessing me. Two beady eyes focus on me- an eerily human gaze staring at me in the dark. It evaluates me for a tense moment before it throws its head back and screams. The sound pierces through the still quiet of the snowy evening and I can’t shake the thought that it sounds almost human. Perhaps I am closer to death than I thought.

The raven focuses one beady eye on me and launches itself in my direction. My eyes widen instinctively and I feel my muscles clench as I throw my arms in front of my head to protect myself. The raven screams again, puncturing the air a second time. The sound is too close. It rattles me to my core.

The air is a cacophony of noise as the raven closes the distance between us. Its wings beat furiously against the air, and it pushes cool gusts of air towards me. Finally, it lands on the ground a few feet in front of me. Its head is tilted to one side and it’s watching me again.

I find myself leaning forward. I’m surprised to realize that its eyes are a deep, shadowy green. I push myself up onto my feet to look closer at the dark bird. Its feathers reflect the colors of the forest around it in the Moonlight. Green, and black, and brown colors shift on the surface of its feathery body.

I do my best to stand up slowly. This bird is the closest thing I have to company and I don’t want to risk scaring it away. To my surprise, the raven doesn’t fly away.

“You’re lucky.” I sigh and stretch the tension out of my arms and legs. I flex my fingers experimentally. I wish I had thought to grab gloves when I left the house earlier.

“You get to fly wherever you want. Just like your friends did.” I look at the raven again, and even though I feel a bit silly for complaining to a bird I keep talking.

I shift my weight into a crouch, being careful to keep my knees off the ground this time. The consequences of the cold feel more dangerous to me now that I realize just how vulnerable I am. I rest my elbows on my knees and lift my head to rest my chin in my hands. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyways.”

I am not a bird, and I cannot fly, and maybe I’m just a little bit delirious right now. What does it matter if a bird finds me a fool? A bird will not judge me by human standards, and even if it did- I will probably be dead soon anyway.

And if this isn’t a bird? If it’s some figment of my imagination- what then? That would explain its odd coloring, and its strange demeanor.

The bird flies at a slow enough pace that I can follow, even with my half frozen limbs. Its wings blend into the night air almost perfectly, and I have to squint to differentiate the raven from the trees around it. The muffled crunch of the snow underneath me is the only sound as we move onward.

Perhaps I’m the one that’s truly strange- applying human emotions to a bird, but I swear it looks curious.

The bird tilts its head in the other direction and I swear that it is about to speak before it launches itself into the air. Perhaps the cold is affecting me more than I thought because I push myself off the ground in a flurry of flying limbs and tangled fabric in order to follow behind the raven.

The trees gradually thin until they disappear altogether. In their place, a castle looms.

The raven disappears into the night sky. The only hint that it was ever there in the first place is a muted flash of green light.

. . . . . . . .

Interested to read more? I recently posted the second chapter over on AO3.

The Beast of Asgard - Loki Laufeyson x original female character

#loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki x female reader #Loki x original female character #ao3 writer #Beauty and the Beast vibes #Gothic atmosphere #slow burn #contract marriage #eventual smut #please I have so many ideas for this fic I would love feedback #The Beast of Asgard #TangledMelody writes

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peachyjinx · 7 months ago

Text

Sharing an excerpt from "Lay Your Hands On Me", my Professor Loki multi-chapter fic coming out in 2025. I decided to finish writing it before posting, which sucks for me- I want to share it! So here's a little taste, I can't wait till I can share the whole thing with you guys 😘.

LMK if you want to be on the taglist for it! 💚

Loki swiftly walked through his foyer, and with a practiced flick, his keys spiraled through the air, landing with a clink on the small table in the corner. He had spent his whole drive home thinking about Charlotte. His guilt over their confrontation gnawed at him—a subtle sting beneath the surface—but it paled in comparison to the more insistent throbbing in his pants.

The house was silent around him, and he could almost hear the blood pulsing in his veins, each heartbeat a drumroll punctuating the thoughts of Charlotte that danced provocatively through his thoughts.

He quickly made his way to his bedroom, unbuckling his pants as he walked into the shadows. The dim light offered a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could entertain these thoughts without the piercing clarity of daylight to cast judgment upon them. He laid down on his large bed with determination to relieve this pressure, this ache that was inside of him.

She was smart, passionate, and fiery, and he liked it. While at first she irritated him, he now felt his whole body alight with lust. That fierce glint in her eyes sparked something primal within him, igniting a flame where only embers had smoldered for far too long. The way she had bent over and pointed her finger at him angrily had caused an involuntary shudder through him, and a twitch of arousal he couldn't suppress.

"Once," he whispered into the darkness, a promise or a plea, he wasn't certain, as he released his pulsing cock from its confines, the cool air of the room kissing his heated skin.

Would it be so bad if he slept with her?

You can’t fuck the students. They explicitly told you that when you were in training.

Loki chuckled to himself as his length hardened more while his large hand stroked it. Of course he'd be attracted to a student. This was simultaneously the best and worst thing that could happen. A temptation, a change in this monotonous life. The hunger within him stirred, a restless beast prowling the confines of his soul. It was desire, pure and unadulterated, mingled with the tang of danger.

Oh this is bad, he thought to himself with a wicked grin, as he tightened his grip on his needy cock while he rhythmically pumped it.

#professor loki #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki fanfiction #loki x oc #loki x original female character

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mochie85 · 1 year ago

Note

As part of your 1k celebrations I would like to submit the following prompt for consideration 😁♥️ feel free to bend it to your will.

Your colleague Loki finds himself in your rooms at Stark Tower for (fairly) innocent reasons.

You arrive back unexpectedly. He hides, at first.

✨✨

Fairly Innocent

One Shot Masterlist | Follower Event Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

A/N: I apologize, with my whole heart, that it has taken me this long to finish this request. So long, that I have reached a new milestone since this request was made. But I hope you enjoy it. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Explicit. Smut, hand job, oral (female receiving), slight DOM vibes, voyeurism, shower scene, mention of 'toys'. Happy ending. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Your room was dark and cold. The curtains were shut leaving a small sliver of light shining from the cityscape outside. There was a stillness in the air from being untouched the last two weeks. “Now, where did she put you?” Loki hummed while looking around your room. He wandered in, using the access code you had given him. His prying eyes scanned and noted how orderly you left your room. And even after some time away, the room still smelled like you. Like citrus blooms on a winter morning.

Loki lent you some practice daggers a while ago and was keen to get them back. They were dull and lightweight. Perfect for beginner enthusiasts like the Widow, who wanted to add a new skill to her ledger. Whom Loki had promised to train, alongside you, in Asgardian combat.

Loki rummaged through your bookshelves, thinking you might have stashed them along with your books and souvenirs from your travels. He knew you loved to read. Your voracious appetite for mysteries and novels rivaled his own. He noted Robert Frost and Agatha Christie situated alongside the many romance novels.

Peculiar, he thought. He’d never known you to be interested in such fiction. You two had always discussed classic literature or Asgardian poetry. A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as he took a book with brightly colored Post-it notes sticking out of the top pages. He opened the paperback to a dog-eared page that was clearly read and reread extensively.

Lucy moaned as Cade’s fingers dipped inside her wet pussy. Trills of pleasure ran up her spine, making her unable to stand any longer. He gently stroked her as he whispered on her neck, “Don’t fight it, baby. Let go for me.”

Loki shut the book closed with wide eyes and a wider grin on his face. “Well, well, well. Who knew that the Avenger’s little darling liked to read smut?!” He said to himself looking at the volumes of romance books you had. He was quite impressed by your ability to surprise him. He thought he had you figured out. He might have to tease you about this when you return from your mission.

Loki searched your closet next, but he couldn’t find the daggers. He combed through hangers of clothing and shelves of shoe boxes till he stumbled upon several silk bags with rope tie enclosures. One bag had the length and shape of the daggers he was searching for. How sweet of her to care for the daggers and stash them in a silk purse. Loki opened the bag and reached in but was again surprised at what he found.

He pulled out a black, patent leather collar with a gold buckle. Glistening under the bright closet light, was a heart-shaped tag, hanging from the center. The name ‘Darling’ was inscribed in cursive. Stunned, Loki looked inside the sateen bag and pulled out what he mistook for his daggers- a short, riding crop that matched the patent leather of the collar. Hanging from the handle was a gold chain that had a tag etched, ‘Darling’s Master.’

An intrusive fantasy came unbidden in his mind. It was of you on all fours, with the collar adorning your neck and him standing behind you rubbing the tip of the crop against your dripping heat. “What other deliciousness are you hiding, my dear?” he whispered as he stowed the collar and whip and reached for another silk purse. Every bag he opened had a different set of negligees. Each one was more lascivious than the last.

The smile on his lips got darker as his body started responding to the different scenarios playing in his head. Each scene- novel and unique, to the set of lingerie he opened. More than once, he had to stop himself from reaching inside and rubbing the fine lace between his fingers. “Nope! No,” he chided himself. “Focus. I’m here for the daggers.” Loki took one last look and walked away before he could swipe one of your lace panties and put it in his back pocket like some pervert. “Daggers. Daggers…where are you daggers…”

He couldn’t stop smiling at the revelation he found. Memories of his last interaction with you played in his head under a new context. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. Truth be told, he did always find you attractive. But he never once pursued it thinking it wouldn’t be favored by you, or any of the team. You didn’t get the title “The Avenger’s Little Darling” for nothing. You were beloved by all. And he was the untrustworthy, extra baggage that the team had to deal with so they could have Thor on their side.

He knew he couldn’t have you.

One last place he looked was your bedside table. If it’s not here, she must have taken them with her. Opening the drawer, Loki shouldn’t have been surprised at what he found, but he felt an exhilarating chill crawl throughout his body, nonetheless. A vibrator. A large, blue, silicone toy that was tapered at the end, was resting neatly inside. You naughty little minx.

Loki couldn’t help the state of arousal he was in. He stood up and stared at your toy, his fingers running puzzled against his lips. He imagined you spread on your bed, lost in the throes of your passion. What do you think about when you have your toy tucked inside your wet cunt? Who’s name do you moan when you’re at the edge of your climax about to fall? And how can he conspire to make sure you think of him?

Surprised, Loki looked up as he heard the keypad of your door unlocking. In a senseless rush, he closed your drawer and cloaked himself invisible. He didn’t want anyone to find him snooping around your belongings. He stood still as he blended with the shadows of your room.

He shouldn’t have hid. You did give him the access code to your room. You trusted him enough to be in here. But there was something so intimate about the things he found. He felt exposed and guilty. Loki didn’t want anyone to think of him being nefarious with you.

A small sigh of relief flooded him when he realized it was you, back from your assignment. He opened his mouth to speak and announce his presence, but he couldn’t. So many questions rushed through his mind. He wanted to ask all of them! Yet, he was struck immovable by your presence.

Had you always been so lovely? Had your eyes always been that bright and alluring? Your smile, an invitation for his lips?

Were his discoveries about you finally shedding light as to who you might be, underneath the perfect façade you seem to have cultivated for yourself? Everything he found was, he swore to the gods, erotic and arousing. But it was the fact that you surprised him that made his level of attraction to you grow.

You walked in with a heavy sigh, setting your duffel bag down on your bed and your boots onto the floor. You didn’t bother turning on your lights, as you zipped your body suit down and peeled off your armor. A rather tame set of black lace underwear shaped your body. Your exposed skin turned a rich shade in the darkness of your room.

Loki noted some bruises and scars peppering your body. The fresh welts were colored green and blue indicating they were recent and most likely acquired from your latest mission. You massaged your neck and rolled your shoulders trying to ease the ache settling into your bones.

Loki watched as you made your way, routinely, to your en suite and turned on the lights. A loud rush of water from the shower rumbled through, disturbing the silence that had enveloped you both. It took his entire strength as a god to keep standing where he was and not follow you to watch.

New fantasies came unbidden in his mind of you naked and wet in the shower. I need to leave. I need to depart before I do something that both of us would regret. He waited till he heard you close your shower door. The water made loud splashes as it hit against different curves of your body.

A few more minutes and Loki found he could move again. With a shaky breath, he exhaled and made his way to your door. He would’ve continued if it weren’t for your small sighs. Soft moans and whimpers traveled to his god-like hearing. She’s touching herself?!

Loki balled his fist to elicit pain. His fingernails dug deep into the pad of his palms, trying to overcome the overwhelming state of arousal he was in.

“…Loki…”

He stopped and nearly fell to his knees. You said his name! The honeyed tones of your moans dripped over him. Coating his entire body in primal need until it reached his cock and hardened.

He couldn’t leave now. He wouldn’t. He turned on his heel and slowly lifted his cloak, risking everything by pushing the door slightly more open.

Loki licked his lips at the sight of you lost in your orgasm. Your head was thrown back as water trickled down your body. The droplets guiding his eyes down…

…down…

…to where your fingers played with your aching cunt. Your hands explored your curves. Every dip. Every hollow. Every scrumptious mound that he wanted to devour himself.

He stood at your en suite door, his arms holding the frame above his head. He didn’t trust himself to come closer to you. Not until you allowed it. Not until you saw how his eyes became ravenous at the sight of you touching yourself to thoughts of him.

“Loki!? What the hell are you doing?” you screamed out, startled. His eyes traveled back up to yours as you finally acknowledged his presence. Your body turned flush from the heat of the water and the embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

Loki freed himself from your door and tried to answer. Nothing came out but a quivering breath and a small growl of desire. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. He took a step forward and closed your bathroom door behind him making your heart drop. He slowly made his way to you. Sluggish feet carrying him across your tiled floors. “Don’t stop on my account, Darling.”

“Why are you here?” you demanded.

“I heard you call out my name. And I am nothing if not a benevolent god who answers your prayers.” It was as if a switch was turned on and Loki couldn’t stop until he had you.

He watched you back into the tile of your shower. You looked like a caged animal put there for his viewing pleasure. “Why are you here?!” you repeated. It’s too late to be demure. He’s seen everything.

“I came looking for the daggers I lent you. I looked everywhere in your room. I couldn't find them.” Loki’s voice was deep but clear. You could hear the dangerous desire in his tone as he reached for the door to your shower. On instinct, you reached for the handle, stopping him from opening it.

The chase became real. He had to have you. The last hour he spent combing through your suggestive belongings had built a naughty little version of you in his head. Like a puzzle. It was the most erotically charged moment he’d ever spent. And now? Now, you were denying him!

“Last chance, Darling. If you want me to leave now, say so,” he said with a smile. “But I promise you this. I won’t stop till I have you.” His breath steamed the glass doors. Your heart pounded inside your chest as you looked into his dark eyes.

You let go of the handle and stepped back. Loki opened the door slowly, anticipation building up and pooling in between your thighs. “Good girl.”

Loki walked into your shower, still clothed. The scalding water penetrated through his white cotton shirt making it translucent under the spray. You could trace the lines of his muscle underneath. His hair became slick and affixed itself against his face. He towered over you, as he leaned over with one arm against the shower wall.

Fuck!

He lowered his face. His nose brushed against the tip of yours and you could taste his breath against your lips. “What were you thinking about?” he asked looking deep into your eyes. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”

You quivered at his voice. You looked down embarrassed. “No, no. Look at me.” He said grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him. He kept his fingers on your face, gently stroking your jaw.

“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. Your voice was so small. You felt so fragile in his hands.

“Go on, sweet thing. What prayer can your god answer for you tonight?” he encouraged. You were mesmerized by his stare. His voice lulled you to a sense of heat and longing.

“I pictured…touching you,” you started. “I fantasized about your body holding mine.” Loki licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed against your mouth. It tingled and the sensation moved throughout your body, awakening every cell within it.

“Like this?” he asked, grabbing your hand gently and placing it underneath his soaked shirt. He guided your hand up his torso and held it there. You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he guided you over his stiff nipple and then down his lean abs.

Loki didn’t take his eyes off you once. He watched how your eyes widened at his boldness. How your lips parted when you finally touched him. How your whole body moved just a fraction closer to him, capturing him in a lust-filled haze of his own.

He continued steering your hand down his body, past the hem of his pants to his aching bulge. He was big. And hard. You couldn’t imagine what he would look like, what he would feel like, once he took it out. He kept your hand on his cock, driving your hand up and down. “Keep your hand on me,” he instructed. The steam from the shower did little to prevent the shiver that ran down your spine. Nor did it hide the wetness that was now dripping from you.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him. His mouth incased your lips in an uncontrollable kiss. He weaved his deft fingers into your wet hair, pulling your head back to kiss you at a deeper angle. He inhaled deeply, smelling the clean scent of your soap and shampoo.

He groaned into your mouth when he felt your hand reach inside his pants and squeeze him tightly. Loki’s eyes rolled back as you expertly palmed his stiff cock. You felt the veins pulsing in your fingertips as you pumped his dick mercilessly. He leaned over you, caging you between the wall and his eager body.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he whimpered in your ear. “Don’t stop.” Loki bucked his hips into your hands. He captured your lips one last time before he moaned your name, releasing the pent-up arousal he’d been holding in. He fell apart in your hands, and you continued till you milked every last drop from him.

Before the water could wash away your efforts, you licked off two of your fingers, tasting his offerings. “There she is,” he said with a devilish grin. He was waiting for the real you to come forth. You seemed so demure and shy at the beginning. Nothing at all like what he found out you were. The one who reads erotic novels over and over again. The one who hides their toy on the bedside table, ready to go. The one who has a patent leather collar with their pet name etched into it.

Loki growled at the memory. He will see you in that collar. He’ll make sure of it. “But for now, I want a taste,” he said to himself. Loki started with your mouth, sampling himself in your kiss. You winced slightly when he reached for your waist. Reacting from a sensitive bruise that you acquired from your mission.

“Do you think your body can handle a couple more bruises from me, Darling?” he asked earnestly. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Loki proceeded to grab your hips and hold you in place, while his mouth eagerly marked your neck. He continued down to the base of your throat as he knelt in front of you. He captured your breasts with his tongue, paying them each attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gathering the white cotton in your hands as you fisted it.

When he reached your stomach, he was gentle and sweet. His hands secured your waist, pushing you slightly higher. “Wrap your leg around me,” he directed. You obeyed and placed your left leg on his shoulder.

Drips of water still fell from the shower. Loki licked and slurped each drop that fell onto your thighs. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe on your warm cunt. “Fuck…Loki,” you screamed when he latched onto your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looked up at you and watched you as you threw your head back, your ecstasy showing through.

“Did you like that, Darling?”

“Mmyes,” you whined. “God, yes!”

Loki repeated his actions, holding onto your thigh, as he savored your clit. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your knees were weakening, and you had nothing to hold onto as your hands slipped against the tile of your shower wall. “Loki, please,” you panted.

“I need to be inside you,” he moaned. The sooner he can make you cum in here, the sooner he can properly bed you on top of your sheets. He looked deep into your eyes and you almost didn’t recognize him. Hunger and desperation were hanging on his brows. The sight of him in between your legs, the feel of his lips latching onto your folds, the weight of his fingers thrusting inside you. It was all-encompassing and all too consuming.

“Oh, God! Loki!” you screamed as he inserted another finger. You laced your hand through his drenched hair, pulling every time his tongue flicked your nub. “Please, I need you inside me too. I need…” your breathing came in harsher. The steam almost suffocating you as you come closer and closer to that edge, waiting to fall.

“Don’t fight it, Darling. Let go for me,” Loki quoted your book, making you clench around his fingers. One last thrust into you and you screamed your release. Loki lapped up your swollen pussy with a greedy smile, making you shudder.

Hours later, you and Loki were lying on the floor of your room. Blankets and pillows surround you while your legs and arms tangle with each other, holding each other tightly. You were running your finger up and down his chest as he read aloud a passage from one of your “smutty romance books,” as he called them.

His voice was magnetic and hypnotizing. Every word he said came to life inside your head. “Hmm, we might have to re-enact this one,” he teased after he finished a scene.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the last word you said. It just came out. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. From bending to his will and wanting to please him.

“I was curious about something,” he grinned, biting his lip. “Which I hope you can enlighten me...”

“Yes?”

“When I was looking for the daggers, I came across this.” He conjured up your patent leather collar and held it up against the dim light. He next conjured up the matching riding crop and showed you the tag that was hanging from the handle. “Who was your master?” Loki asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer. “Why do you have this and not them?”

“I never had one,” you admitted sheepishly. “I bought that in hopes of using it one day. But we never worked out.”

“I see,” he said with a devious smirk.

“It was so pretty. I couldn’t just get rid of it.”

“Sit up. Hold your hair, while I put this on you.” You obeyed his instructions. A pool of desire is already forming in between your legs as he tightens the collar around your neck. The heart-shaped tag, ‘Darling’ felt heavy and cold as he placed it neatly on the base of your throat.

Loki wiped his thumb over the tag of the whip. Newly etched, in bold letters, was his name instead. “Well, it’s mine now, darling,” he grinned as he tested the switch on his hand. The sharp thwack stung his palm. Your heart started beating quicker.

“On your knees,” he growled.

“Yes, sir.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief ++

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kawaiigirly21 · 3 months ago

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Idc if I'm the only one simping after this short 25 year old man. He's getting a story where he and his BLACK wife are watching Ragnarok and both having very different reactions to the fights and their outcomes. Smut maybe? I don't know. A flirty Loki? Probably. Possible addition to Ragnarok? Thinking about it

Aren't they just a darling couple?

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aheckinmess · 3 months ago

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Shut In

(Part 1 of Kitten Down to Business.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Loki, Loki Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Marvel Cinematic Universe, MCU, Canon Divergence, Original Female Character(s), Original Animal Character(s), Loki Adopts a Cat, Thor Adopts a Dog, Cat Was Previously Abused, Loki Offers Her a Better Life, Thor Offers Her an Annoying Dog Companion, But It's Okay, They All Become One Big Happy Family, Found Family, Loki is Trying His Best, Thor is Not Stupid, Protective Thor, Loki & Thor Bro Adventures, I Originally Wrote This When I Was a Teen, Back In High School, Here's To Adult Me Trying to Unravel Whatever Crack Plot Smaller Me Had in Mind, Cheers to That

Word Count: 1,237 words

Summary: To one young Norwegian forest cat, life is a cage. Abused and abandoned by her owners, Sage now spends her days locked in the confines of the cage within a local animal shelter - not that she's entirely opposed. Though she dares not trust any potential adoption prospects, her outlook on life drastically changes when one dazzling pair of green eyes meets hers. What starts as the two Odinson brothers' hope of securing a pet companion becomes the beginning of their greatest adventure yet.

Author's Note: Welcome! I hope you enjoy this story, as it was originally posted on deviantArt when I was much younger (about 15 or so) and I've now decided to revive it for fun. That being said, all I remember about this story was that it's divergent from canon. If I had to pick the closest timeline for it, I'd probably say after the Thor movie, but Loki doesn't die and they both get matters settled cordially (or as cordially as they can) on Asgard. It's mainly meant to be a slice of life piece, so happy reading!

Chapter 1: Shut In

Life is a cage and I want nothing more than to break out and feel the earth between my toe pads. What I wouldn’t give to stretch my legs without fear that every step might come at the cost of immeasurable pain and bristled fur.

My head snaps towards the door at the sound of tinkling bells and heavy footsteps.

“Hello, welcome to the animal shelter!” Cindy calls from the front.

Steel bars mar my vision as I crawl backwards to lay flush against the cold metal trapping me inside. Humans come in, day in and day out, looking for another play thing to take home and abuse.

Please don’t come here. Please don’t come here. My dark fur usually keeps me hidden from the wandering, ugly eyes of searching tormentors leering into my private abode.

Pick me! The fat tabby screeches from the cage below me; I can hear her fur rubbing against the cage.

No way! Everyone wants you, Jewel. Pick me! Crystal hisses, claws jingling on her own door.

“My brother would like to inquire about your selection of feline companions.” A blonde and burly human steps up to the counter with a loud voice that prompts me to curl up into a tight, defensive little ball. Can’t let them see me.

“Of course!” There’s a flurry of movement as Cindy leads the two, much taller humans in our direction. “Jewel has been a fan favorite among cat lovers. She’s a little older, but she’s very cuddly and well-mannered. Crystal is a good lap cat and likes to play outside. Frankie is skittish, but once he warms up to you, he’s quite talkative.”

Two voices clash as the two large men discuss the different options presented to them. The blonde is easy enough to distinguish, even from miles away, if only because of his boisterous outbursts. His companion, a man with a black mane, appears thoroughly unimpressed with each feline presented to him.

Then his green eyes meet mine.

“What about this one? What’s her name? The information on the cage appears incomplete.” His voice soothes me, soft like velvet and allowing me to relax my body briefly.

When I realize I’ve let my guard down, I contract all my muscles again. I watch him, not even daring to blink as he coos soft assurances at me.

“Oh! That’s Sage.” Cindy looks at him and then me, her eyes painted with pity. A growl rumbles in my chest as a warning for both of them. “We found her outside, neglected and alone. She showed signs of abuse and most people have found they’re not interested in her because it takes her a long time to engage with anyone. When we first got her, she reacted more violently when provoked. Now, she settles for growling to let you know she wants space.”

Green Eyes stares at me for a while, and I stare back.

You don’t have to be afraid. His body language says.

Fear keeps me alive. I hiss, before loosening up a bit. But…I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

“...I want her.” He breathes.

My old masters used to torture me in every way possible, the shadow of their presence domineering and filling me with uncertainty and trepidation. Green Eyes casts a shadow that’s warm and blankets me with safety and security.

I can’t trust it.

I growl louder as instincts take over and I try digging my claws into the floor. It serves as a harsh reminder of their removal years prior.

“She may take a while to come around. She’s been here for four months and still hides whenever I reach in to pet her. She was declawed when we found her.” Cindy explains, before cooing softly and stretching her hands into the outskirts of my reach. “Sage? Sage, you have a visitor.”

My cell door rattles as her arm pries further in – I don’t move.

“Maybe if we give her a little time with the door open. Were you looking for any other animals today?” Cindy compromises, retracting her hand but leaving the door ajar.

“Yes! May I look at your selection of dog breeds?” The loud one grins.

“Certainly. If you’d like to stay here, sir, I’ll lead your friend back this way.” Cindy says, before Green Eyes nods and the other two depart.

Shortly after they leave, the sound of barking dogs echoes down the hallway.

“Loud bunch, aren’t they, Sage?” Green Eyes coos, never taking his eyes off of me. “I’m Loki. My brother is the one that just went looking for a dog. His name’s Thor.”

Why is he telling me this? I wonder. I just want everyone to go away. Can’t he see that? I don’t want to be hurt anymore.

“I’m sure you’ve been through quite the ordeal. I wouldn’t blame you for withholding your trust for a measured time, Sage.” He continues, as though he can hear my every thought. “But I assure you, I will not harm you. I will give you a home that you can learn to walk in without fear, and protect you from all dangers.”

Several quiet moments pass as I gauge his words. Two more humans walk in and flock to the small rodents in the room adjacent. No one’s ever told me that before. I want to believe him, desperately.

I want to know warmth and good food. I want to know soft voices and gentle touches. I want the earth to feel sure beneath my feet and stand by a master that treats me like an equal, who will praise me for what I’ve done right.

Loki reaches his hand into my cage and sets it at the edge, still as stone.

With agonizing slowness, I uncurl my limbs and move closer to sniff his hand and glean his intention from his scent. He smells like sandalwood and petrichor, like mischief and a playful spirit. Beyond that, there’s a subtle whiff of something like sparkling fire.

I pull my head back as a preventative, but he remains unbothered. His expression doesn’t change, inviting and safe.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to hurt you.” He promises.

Poking my head closer to him, I move into his orbit and rub my head against his hand to judge his level of trustworthiness. Delicate hands stroke my fur down to the base of my neck before coming back up to my head. He seems to understand my need for space just as much as I understand our mutual need for warmth.

This is what I’ve always wanted.

Thor returns with a large, excitable dog on his heels when I finally opt to seek refuge in Loki’s arms. My head tucks into the crook of Loki’s elbow to dampen the sound of their arrival.

“Brother! You’ve managed to sway the young creature – you always did have a way with animals.” Thor chuckles. “I’ve found a companion of my own!”

There’s a fair amount of shuffling as pleasantries are exchanged with Cindy. A white sheet of paper with writing can be seen when Loki shifts me around in his arms, gentle and lithe in his movements.

“Thanks for offering these two a loving new home. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to contact us!” Cindy smiles.

Then, the wide open world lays open before me as we all step into the crisp, cool air.

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allthenobodypplfics · 2 months ago

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Arousal Poisoning (Chapter 2)

Fandom: MCU Loki

Pairing: Soft Dark!Loki x Female Reader, or Soft Dark!Loki x Original Female Character, depending on reader interpretation.

Other Characters: Mobius, B-15

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Soft Dark!Loki, Smut, Sex Pollen, Drugged Sex, Rough Sex, Consensual Sex, Slight Fluff

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Read on AO3

Loki and B-38 were enjoying a moment of peace as they lay on the floor; the hot water from the showers was still running to keep the room warm but the spray was away from their bodies. One of Loki’s arms was hooked under his head; the other was wrapped around B-38’s shoulders. B-38 laid her head against Loki’s chest, one of her arms limply splayed over his abdomen; the other was beginning to go numb, trapped half underneath herself and half underneath Loki.

Loki was gently circling one of the bruises he left behind on her arm. “I can heal these for you,” he softly suggested.

A beat, and then B-38 breathed, “Nah, leave ‘em.”

Loki lifted his head to look down at B-38; his eyebrows were raised in surprise. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

Loki stared at her for a few seconds before slowly leaning down. He was just about to press his lips to her forehead when a sudden agitated knocking broke the moment and startled both of them.

“Are you two still alive in there?” Mobius’ muffled voice could be heard screaming through the door. “There’s, uh, no more sounds.”

Loki groaned; then replied, “We’re alive.”

“Good,” Mobius yelled, “‘Cause I’m gonna kill ya, Loki!”

Loki scowled. “Why is this my fault?”

“Loki, open the fucking door!” The knocking sounded more like a fist pounding at the door now.

Loki groaned again and slowly stood, gently pulling B-38 up with him. With a small wave, he conjured each of them a towel to cover their nudity.

“Thanks,” B-38 said as she adjusted the towel across her torso.

“My pleasure,” Loki said; his voice deep with some mischievous rakishness.

B-38 side-eyed him and couldn’t help the small smirk playing on her lips.

Loki twirled his fingers and the door opened. Mobius and B-15 barged in with their timesticks engaged and ready. Loki immediately took a step back and hid behind B-38.

“Stop, stop, it’s okay!” B-38 reassured them with her hands out trying to placate the worried duo. “We’re fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Mobius asked as he lowered the timestick. “You don’t look fine.”

Mobius glanced over the Hunter’s form, noticing dark bruises in the shape of hands and fingertips covering her arms and thighs. Round splotches of red also spread across her neck and chest. He looked away so as to not rudely stare.

B-38 sincerely replied, “I’m sure; I’m fine. It’s no big deal.”

“See? It’s no big deal!” Loki reiterated with a little grin, a dramatic flourish of his hand, and his eyes were wide in his attempt to convey boyish innocence.

Loki’s remark earned him a scathing glare from both Mobius and B-15. Loki cleared his throat, his face fell, and he shifted uncomfortably.

Mobius tossed two pairs of prisoner jumpsuits in Loki and B-38’s direction. They were still in their plastic packaging. “Put these on;” Mobius ordered, “leave your old clothes behind. They’ll be destroyed when we reset the timeline – don’t wanna bring that shit back with us to the TVA.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Loki quipped as he tore the plastic off of his jumpsuit, “every single one of you looks like you could use some lightening up. Perhaps a little debauchery is exactly what you all need.”

Mobius scoffed, “Get dressed, you degenerate,” and shooed B-15 out the door to let Loki and B-38 have some privacy. Not that they really need it anymore, seeing as Mobius and B-15 already got an eyeful of them earlier, but it was still polite.

Loki watched B-38 get dressed with her back to him. Her body language seemed to be relaxed, if not a bit embarrassed. He thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, and it seemed she enjoyed her time with him. At the very least, she wasn’t hurt, disgusted, devastated, ashamed, or angry. And! She was choosing to keep the marks he left on her. She also chose to kiss him after their tryst, and also lie in his arms. That was all very promising. It had been… a very long time since he last had any relations with someone. He’d hate to admit it, but he had been a bit lonely. Maybe he could convince her to spend more time with him later.

It turned out Loki didn’t have to do much convincing.

Mobius decided to put a pause in the investigation to go back to the TVA with everyone in tow. Out of an abundance of caution, everyone was put through decontamination. Everyone else seemed to have escaped the aphrodisiac flower, as they showed no signs of arousal. Loki and B-38, however, still had the nectar’s illicit effects coursing through their veins.

B-38 was in a private room in the infirmary, sitting on a bed and anxiously fiddling with her hands. She had changed out of the prisoner jumpsuit and into some standard TVA gray sweats. Her collar was beginning to become darkened with her perspiration.

“So wh-where’s, uh,” B-38 stuttered, “where’s- where’s Loki?”

“Separated from you,” B-15 sternly answered. “Look, you guys can’t be near each other; at least, not until the toxins are flushed out of your systems. I know it’s hard–”

B-38 snorted.

B-15 narrowed her eyes slightly in amusement before continuing, “But he’s a god, and he can kill you. You just gotta… tough it through for a little while–”

“It’s really hot in here,” B-38 interrupted, no longer listening to what B-15 was saying. B-38 quickly tugged her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it to the side. “Hoo…” she whooped as she rhythmically tugged at her white tank top in an attempt to cool herself off.

Loki growled wordlessly as he pulled at the restraints tying him down on the bed. A doctor came to draw his blood. “Just a small pinch; gonna run some tests,” she commented.

“You dare–!” Loki snarled before noticing Mobius walk into the room. “Mobius!” Loki suddenly sounded elated. He laughed breathlessly, “There you are, my friend!”

“Oh, I’m your friend now, am I?” Mobius sardonically replied.

“Of course, you are! You are my best friend!”

“Right…” Mobius gave Loki a quick look-over, who had also since changed into TVA gray sweats; Mobius donned his standard suit. Loki’s face was red and a vein was popping out of his forehead. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hair was damp from it. In fact, Mobius thought that Loki might actually have steam coming off of his skin. Loki’s eyes looked wild and his smile showed a little too much teeth. Mobius pointedly ignored the huge bulge poking up from the blanket covering Loki’s lap. The blanket had to have been an attempt at modesty from the nurses.

Next to the bed, the heart monitor was beeping like crazy and all sorts of alarms were going off. Mobius glanced at the machinery before giving it a double-take. “Holy shit!” he hissed in disbelief. Loki’s heart rate was going well over 600 beats per minute; a mortal would be dead by now.

“Hey, Doc…” Mobius said; his voice was tinged with worry, “how’s he doing?”

“Yeah… um…” the Doctor replied, “Not great. His heart rate is insane, we’re sure the only reason he didn’t go into cardiac arrest is because he’s not human. He’s also running a very high fever; he’s practically boiling. Earlier, he felt like a pot of soup that’s been sitting in the fire a little too long. If you touched him, you’d literally get burned.” As if to prove her point, the doctor raised her hand and showed the red scorch mark on her fingertips.

“Yeah, are you doing anything about that at all?” Mobius sarcastically asked while squinting, sounding a bit irritated. “Any more of this and he’s gonna croak.”

“Of course, we are, Agent Mobius,” the Doctor sighed. “We gave him as much sedatives as we possibly could to slow down his heart rate, any more and he might OD. It’s already way over the limit a human can take. It’s enough to take down an elephant. We’re also giving him cold IV fluids to lower his temperature. At least touching him no longer feels like sticking your hand into a deep fryer.”

“So…” Loki cut in, trying to sound casual but failing because his voice was cracking. “Where is my other best friend? My darling Bumble Bee? Where is she, Mobius?”

Mobius rolled his eyes and said, “Don’t you worry about her, Loki. She’s being cared for.”

“That’s good to hear, that’s very good to hear. I’d like to see her.”

“No.”

“Oh, come now,” Loki laughed; his words were coming out of his mouth a little too quickly. “I just wish to talk to her. I, uh, I wish to apologize. I wasn’t as kind to her as I should have been. I was very rude, you see; lost all my manners.”

“Uh huh… you’ve lost all your marbles too if you think I’m letting you outta here.”

“Just let me go; let me see her. I want to see her. I’ll be good, trust me.” Loki was starting to sound desperate.

“Yeah, I don’t quite believe you.”

“Come on,” Loki chuckled.

“No.”

“Where is she, Mobius?” Loki, who was practically hyperventilating at this point, grinned at Mobius.

When Mobius remained silent, Loki’s face twisted in rage and he roared, “WHERE IS SHE?!”

Mobius sighed, “I’m not letting you go, and I’m not telling you where she is. You’re a god, for Christ’s sake, with all the hunger of one too. You’ll kill her.”

“I won’t,” Loki gulped as he furiously shook his head. “I promise, I won’t. I’ll be very careful. She’ll like it, I swear.”

Mobius cringed. “Loki, don’t say things like that; that’s gross.”

“Untie me,” B-38 heaved as she squirmed. “I, uh, I need to use the bathroom.”

“I’ll have the nurse get you a bedpan,” B-15 sweetly answered as she patted B-38’s hand.

“Where’s Loki?” B-38 whined pathetically.

“You can’t see Loki,” B-15 gently said. “He’ll kill you.”

“Oh, fuck you, let him kill me then!” B-38 groaned as she arched on the bed and pulled at the restraints. “I’ll die with a smile on my face!”

“Gross,” B-15 said with a guileless smile, ignoring the disrespect, as she patted B-38’s hand again. “And no.”

After making sure no one else was showing symptoms of arousal poisoning, Mobius decided it was time to rally the team to go back to that hostile planet and finish up the investigation. This time, everyone went in full hazmat gear. Loki and B-38 were, of course, left behind, as both were still completely incapacitated, although stable. Loki’s heart rate was still skyrocketing, and his fever was still at a ridiculous temperature, but that didn’t seem to be hurting him. They gave him enough sedatives to kill an abilisk and he was finally knocked out enough to keep him from screaming about going scorched Earth for their insolence.

B-38 was taking the treatment a lot better (and with a lot more dignity). The sedation was keeping her heart rate down, and regular old ibuprofen was keeping her fever down.

Loki burned through those sedatives faster than the doctors could anticipate, but – the very clever god that he was – he wasn’t stupid enough to let on that he was no longer sedated. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing even until he could no longer hear anyone buzzing around him. When all was silent, he cracked one eye open, then the other.

Loki twisted his wrists in their cuffs. Those restraints might have been able to hold indefinitely for a mortal, but for a god, it was only a matter of time before he was able to tear through the fabric.

“Finally,” Loki growled, sitting up and unbuckling the rest of the restraints over his ankles.

He ripped the IV out of his arm; then he yanked the heart monitor electrodes off of his chest. His entire sweatshirt was disgustingly soaked in his perspiration so he impatiently tore it over his head and threw it in a random direction. He hopped off his bed, grabbed a pitcher of water resting on an overbed table, and chugged the entire thing; most of the water dribbled down his chin and chest. Gasping for air after he finished emptying the pitcher, he quickly scampered out of the room before the squealing alarms on the heart monitor got someone’s attention.

B-38 was limply lying in bed and high as a kite from the sedation. The cocktail of drugs made her feel like she was on a swaying boat sailing on gentle waters, which would have been comforting and lull her to sleep… if not for the fact that she was so horny she was literally crying. Well, perhaps not real crying, but tears kept rolling down the corners of her eyes involuntarily.

B-38 saw a flash of someone suddenly appearing at the door’s window. She jumped and yelped, “Jesus Christ!”

She calmed down when she realized it was Loki enthusiastically waving at her, but in her defense, he did look a little psychotic. He quietly slipped in through the door and B-38 chuckled, “Oh, my God…”

“Is here!” Loki announced with his arms spread.

B-38 snorted, “Yeah, okay.” She paused; then added, “What happened to your shirt?”

“I took it off,” he simply answered.

“Why?”

“I was hot,” he said, as if that was the most natural thing in the world. “What happened to your shirt?” Loki asked in return when he noticed she was only wearing a white tank top that was soaked in sweat and became a bit sheer. He appreciated the view.

“Oh… well, I guess I also took it off… because I was hot…” B-38 sputtered. “Look, it doesn’t matter; let’s just get out of here!”

“Okay!” Loki beamed and swiftly undid her restraints.

B-38 sat up and the room spun; she shook her head and made it worse. She muttered something incoherent.

“Here, drink this,” Loki ordered as he shoved a glass of water into her hands.

She hadn’t realized how dry her mouth was as she swallowed the entire thing in three sips. While she was distracted, Loki hastily yanked the IV out of her arm and the vein started shooting out a tiny stream of blood.

“Ow!” B-38 snapped.

“Oops, sorry! Sorry!” Loki floundered, as he pressed a finger to the pinprick to stop the bleeding.

If looks could kill, the exasperated one B-38 gave Loki would do it.

“Alright, let’s go before they separate us again,” B-38 said as she pulled the heart monitor electrodes off of her chest, and then hopped off of bed… to immediately flop to the floor.

Loki was too late to catch her, but he quickly helped her up.

“Oof, these drugs are not kidding…” B-38 moaned.

An alarm started blaring throughout the facility.

“For fuck’s sake!” B-38 whined.

“Pardon me,” Loki said as he hurled B-38 over his shoulder and made a run for it.

“Loki!” B-38 yelled. “Loki, I don’t like being upside down!” She could feel her stomach lurching.

“Bumble Bee, you have to stop squirming,” Loki scolded as he lightly slapped her ass and continued to run down the halls.

“I will puke on you,” B-38 threatened. “And don’t call me that!”

Loki passed an elevator and B-38 yelled, “Wait, go in that elevator!”

Loki doubled back and went in; B-38 told him which button to press and he did as she said. As the elevator whirred to their floor, B-38 demanded, “Now put me down.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped from Loki’s lips and he proceeded to ignore her.

“I mean it!”

“I put you down and you will just sink to the floor.”

“I’m good now,” B-38 insisted.

“Alright,” Loki cheerfully conceded and slowly lowered her from his shoulder. She was able to stand for exactly one second before her knees gave out. Loki held her against him to keep her from falling with a very smug look on his face.

B-38 narrowed her eyes at him before she belligerently said, “I don’t want to be upside down.”

B-38 ignored the hard bulge digging into her pelvis. As difficult as it was, elevator sex was not in the equation. The propensity of getting caught and then being separated again was too great. However, she did notice that just being close to Loki was easing some of the incessant ache she had been feeling.

“Fine,” Loki acquiesced; he lifted her into a piggyback position.

The elevator pinged and the door opened. “There,” B-38 pointed.

Loki followed her directions as she guided them deeper and deeper into the TVA; walking down a hallway, into another elevator, into a hallway, and then another elevator, over and over again. Soon, the halls started to get narrower, the lights started to become dimmer, and random junk began to line the walls.

“This place is a labyrinth!” Loki complained.

“Through that door,” B-38 instructed.

Loki sighed and nudged the door open with his foot; then stepped through. It looked to be a warehouse-sized archival room that didn’t get many visitors. Shelves filled the room with dusty plastic bins; the contents weren’t known as neither Loki nor B-38 were interested in finding out. Well… Loki might have been interested in snooping if he wasn’t more interested in finally sinking his cock deep inside B-38’s tight cunt again. Loki kicked the door shut behind him.

“People rarely come down here,” B-38 stated as Loki walked further into the maze of shelves. “We can be alone for a while.”

“Good,” Loki replied as he looked for the least disgusting spot to have his fun. He found it behind one of the newly installed shelves, therefore the least dusty, and the area around it looked like it had been recently mopped too. He lowered her to the floor and she was able to stand this time. When he turned to face her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss; he eagerly complied. He placed a hand on her chest and then moved down into her tank top to fondle her bare breast. She moaned into his mouth as he rolled a nipple under his thumb.

B-38 pulled away and then pushed down at Loki’s shoulders until he sat on the floor. She tugged his sweatpants off and tossed them behind her. Loki laughed as she pulled her pants off as well and then straddled him. He ripped the tank top off of her and gleefully stared at her breasts. She ground her slick slit against his length; the grin got wiped from his face as his jaws went slack and he sighed.

B-38 snaked her hand between them and grasped his cock, stroking it a few times and feeling its hefty weight before she lifted herself to her knees and positioned his cock against her core. She slowly sat down on him, sheathing him inside of her. She hissed between her teeth. He was so big that she still struggled to take him. She shifted and gently rolled her hips, trying to adjust to his size. As much as she enjoyed the not-very-gentle-and-kind-of-painful-but-amazing sex from earlier, that was not what she wanted this time.

Loki moaned and grabbed her ass, trying to urge her to move already. B-38 leaned down and distracted him with another kiss, brushing her tongue against his. Loki slid his hands up to cup both of her breasts, gently squeezing and grazing her nipples with his fingers. B-38 gasped into his mouth and unconsciously began to slowly ride him. He slid his hands back down to her hips, massaging her ass and thighs. She shifted ever so slightly to get the angle just right; sending tingles down her spine. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she rode him faster; her breath rasping as she threw her head back.

Loki wanted to see her face. He placed one hand on the back of her skull and pulled her head back down. B-38 bit her lips and whimpered as she looked into his eyes; she rode him faster and harder. He was looking up at her, almost as if in awe, his lips parted and eyes sparkling. She didn’t notice before when they first fucked in the showers; most likely because he didn’t show this side of himself then, but she noticed it now – Loki’s voice tended to get higher, softer, and breathier when he fucked. And like the first time she heard him come, he sounded a lot less guarded, and a lot more vulnerable; it was like he bared his soul when he fucked. She found it extremely sexy and a bit heartrending.

B-38 felt that she was close, so close; she rolled her hips a few more times and came with a sob. Her entire body shook violently as her movements became jerky and uncoordinated. Loki firmly gripped her hips and forced her to continue riding his cock; lifting and lowering her faster and harder; using her until he, too, reached completion. B-38 took it all with her jaws clenched. He came softly this time too, wrapping his arms around her waist and crushing her against him, burying his face into her chest. She intertwined her fingers into his hair and held him closely as well.

They sat like that for a long time, Loki still inside of her even as his cock softened. Eventually, B-38 moved to untangle herself from him; Loki reluctantly obliged. It seemed the effects of the flower’s toxins had been satiated for the time being and the burning lust surging through them had decreased somewhat. It wasn’t completely gone, and the couple knew they would end up needing to have another romp soon, but exhaustion was taking over B-38 and she really needed to rest. On the other hand, Loki had already recovered.

B-38 sat down next to Loki and leaned her head against his shoulder while wrapping her arms around his waist; Loki wrapped his arms around her as well. Sleep immediately took over B-38 and Loki contentedly enjoyed her quiet company.

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loki-cees-all · 1 year ago

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Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Sometimes the sharpest boundaries require the gentlest touch.

Chapter W/c : 8.7k words

Chapter Tags / Content : Angst (as always), brief mentions of blood and injuries. Also there's a bunch of Tesseract lore and Loki's history with Thanos that I really got carried away with while writing this.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

The silence in the cell was electrifyingly tense, and Loki wished he had something else to focus his attention on.

His jaw ached as he took another bite of the flavorless, perplexing bread that was both stale and damp at the same time. He should have been grateful for it and its distraction, despite the woman having offered it without even so much as looking at him. But it just reminded him of the year he’d spent with the Mad Titan: Wretched. Forsaken. Totally and completely hopeless.

Loki tried desperately not to think about it, but it was getting harder to fight as his exhaustion grew.

The woman sat across from him in the cell, her knees pulled to her chest and her expression blank. She’d said absolutely nothing after dismissing his question about Anathema the night prior, not even when the peculiar guards brought in their cruel attempt at a meal. She didn’t even flinch when they set the tray down in front of her, nor when the duo stared, cold and unmoving, presumably waiting for her to beg for her life like all the others…but she did wait until they were finally gone to pull the tray closer.

She had grabbed the chunk of bread first, and extended it towards him in the shadows like it was second-nature to her. As if it wasn’t ever an option that she wouldn’t share it, and despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about their respective situations in this place.

He felt guilty for accepting the offering, but unfortunately, he felt like he had no other choice; his eyelids were growing heavier by the minute, his muscles were becoming weaker with each new day of disuse, and his nerves were perpetually fried with wary energy. He was constantly stifling another yawn, and was dangerously close to falling asleep, to having another nightmare again.

Loki didn’t know if he ever talked in his sleep, but he didn’t want to risk revealing any compromising information about himself or his past; the less anyone knew about him here, the better off they all were.

But other than the food she’d shared with him, there wasn’t much else for him to distract himself with. The woman wasn’t talking anymore, and her questions had faded away alongside the hope she may have once had about escaping. That left Loki to alone deal with his questions about her, and their inscrutable answers.

The problem with that, however, was that his mind was nothing but a tangled mess; a rat’s nest, made up of lies and false memories, the betrayals of the life he’d left behind, and all the lives that never were. Before him lay a scattering of dots, all seemingly unrelated and centered around a woman who claimed she didn’t know what they wanted with her, and he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of any of it.

Loki used to pride himself on his ability to see the bigger picture, especially on a galactic scale. But he had come here to hide and to wallow, to purposely let his mind atrophy into a cobweb of nothingness, because that was easier than continue trying, and failing, to be happy. He felt comfortable doing that, and letting this become his legacy, because he hadn’t ever expected a riddle to fall into his lap again. He hadn’t ever expected her.

As Loki swallowed the last of the bread, he forced himself to look at her again. She was still huddled against the wall, illuminated by the dim lantern light from the hallway and shivering in the cold dungeon like a scared little child. He was flabbergasted that she was still here, that they’d bothered bringing her back after being caught during an escape attempt. And he couldn’t help but hate himself, because the old Loki could have figured out why that was a very long time ago.

Next to her, the bowl of porridge sat on the floor, mostly untouched and definitely not enjoyed. Her expression was sullen as she stared off into the distance, and her limbs were folded around herself as she retreated deeper inward. It almost made him feel…something.

Of what exactly, Loki wasn’t quite sure; the feeling was old and familiar, something that was long lost while never really being understood in the first place. He told himself that the feeling was irrelevant, because it was just the mystery he found equal parts infuriating and intriguing. He just needed a bit more time than usual to settle the question marks, and then he could finally return to the blissful void of apathy.

And maybe she wasn’t lying when she claimed to not know who Anathema was, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she had no idea why the guards were so interested in her. Either she had something of theirs, or she knew some mysterious piece of information they didn’t yet - but they were obviously willing to play the long game in order to acquire it, and that couldn’t have been for nothing.

Perhaps it had something to do with the gem dangling from her necklace. Loki had seen her touching it, frequently and absentmindedly, running her slender fingers over the deep blue stone during stressed and quiet moments like now. Clearly it meant a lot to her; someone who loved her had given it to her. Someone she loved back, someone she probably missed dearly…

As he started to wonder if anyone was out there looking for her, Loki realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes. They landed once again upon the bowl of uneaten porridge next to her, and a new form of discomfort wove itself between the muscles of his shoulders and neck. It wrapped around his nerve-endings, stinging the open and frayed tendrils that had been worn bare from the pain of still being alive.

He was quite vulnerable existing like this, even though he knew she couldn’t see him hiding in the shadows. That she didn’t know what he was thinking, or where he was looking. That she was unaware of the fleeting relief that poured into his veins when she was brought back to the cell alive, or his shame at feeling anything that had immediately replaced it.

Loki had been flippant when she was initially brought in here. He was angry the first time she tried to share a meal with him. And then he was conflicted, at best, when she was dragged back in the second time. This paltry range of emotions was far more than he was previously used to; he felt like he was drowning in it, like it was slowly collapsing his airways and squeezing out every last ounce of oxygen from his lungs.

Because there was only one person on this planet who knew his name. A single individual, throughout all of space and time, knew where he was. She was the sole witness to his current existence, and he’d never felt more uncomfortable or on display than here and now. She had met him at his worst, in his ultimate moment of triumph when he’d finally been able to remove himself from any and all equations, from every problem that ever needed solving, and he absolutely hated that.

Loki thought he’d finally accounted for everything when he had stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon. He thought he’d finally fixed the issue, himself, for literally everyone - and then this tiny little variable had shown up so unexpectedly to completely ruin it for him.

He should have been angrier about it. He should have been furious and seething and shaking with rage over this egregious betrayal of the universe. Being alone had been the whole point, keeping everyone safe from him had been his only intention, seeking protection from the pain of both betrayal and being betrayed was all that Loki had left. Why wasn’t he allowed that meager peace of mind?

Damnation clung to Loki like a frightened child clung to his mother’s skirts, trembling in the dark and begging for acknowledgement of its traumatized state. It lurked around every corner and it haunted every shadow, constantly weeping and whimpering and howling out its anguish to cruel and uncaring souls. It was always there, lingering in the corner of his eye, reminding him of just how helpless and useless he was. That he should just give up. That he should just end it already.

But sometimes, the damnation would transform into something far more sinister, into the tall, skulking form of a cerulean demon. Hanging over his shoulder and digging its claws into his neck, the demon would spit cruel maledictions into his ear. Didn’t Loki know that everyone around him was already doomed? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just kill them now, rather than waiting for him to ruin their life and then cruelly and inevitably take it from them?

Hiding in the dungeon was the only reasonable compromise between the frightened child and the viscous demon warring in his mind. If only he had stuck with that plan, if only he hadn’t revealed that someone else was alive in the cell with her, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Regret, his oldest and only friend, wouldn’t be blaring its horn and sounding the alarm bells and crying out for solace. So why did it bother him so much now that she wasn’t eating?

Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, weighing the options in his mind. The regret of initially engaging with this woman didn’t mean he couldn’t change tactics; and if she wasn’t eating, then it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was on his own again. That had been his initial plan, and there was no reason he couldn’t return to that now. Wasn’t being alone all he ever wanted?

“You should finish your meal. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they bring another…” The words felt like acid on Loki’s tongue, dripping down his throat to eat away at his insides. He hoped they had come out as bluntly as he’d intended, but in reality, it just sounded like something his mother would have said.

This time, the woman didn’t shudder when he finally broke the tense silence. She didn’t even react at all, other than to sigh heavily and respond in a low and flattened tone. “What’s the point…?”

“Well, clearly they’d prefer you to be alive, for whatever reason…” Loki’s jaw tensed as he paused, struggling to understand why he was even bothering. “Even if they bring food on an irregular basis, it’s still more than anyone else gets…”

“Maybe the only reason they want me alive is so they can continue mocking and hurting me.”

That was a more difficult point to contend with; perhaps the guards had just grown weary of the simple and mundane murders, and they’d decided to go with something more entertaining this time. What if there wasn’t a more complicated explanation for the guards' motivations? What if he was searching for logic that didn’t even exist?

Loki stifled another yawn as he leaned back against the stone wall, raking his fingers through tangled curls that were just as chaotic as his thoughts. There had to be something he was missing while attempting to put this puzzle together. “So what did the guards say when they caught you escaping?”

The woman let out a heavy exhale, and her tone shifted into a more sarcastic tone. “Oh, normal things like what are you doing out of your cell?, and no one’s coming to rescue you. Typical kidnapper things, you know…”

Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her nonchalant answers, but what else was he expecting? He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth putting this much effort into avoiding sleep. Nothing else in his life prior to meeting her had been easy, so why was he expecting this to go smoothly?

“Actually, the guard did say something strange before knocking me out…” The woman trailed off, pausing as she furrowed her brow.

Loki cleared his throat as he looked towards her again. “Strange how?”

“Maxine - or Nulan, whichever one it was…They caught me upstairs in their private quarters. Just before attacking me, they said what is gone…may never return.” The woman pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she recalled the memory. “I’ve never heard it before, and I have no idea what it means…”

What is gone…may never return. Loki turned the phrase backward and forward in his mind, trying to find its place in this absolutely confounding puzzle. But he’d never heard anyone say anything even remotely close to it, so there was nowhere for it to go. The phrase’s sentiment, however, he understood perfectly well.

“It was probably just a threat, or a taunt…” she continued with a dismissive shake of her head. “They were just mocking me, for losing everything…”

“Or it’s a prayer. A desperate request, for some kind of reprieve…” Loki murmured in reply. He didn’t want to think about whether anyone had ever hoped for the same thing after he’d finally walked away, but he was positive that they had. And he hadn’t meant for his interpretation to sound so melancholy, but as his gaze caught the woman’s matching expression, he could feel her understanding of his meaning. Loki hated that.

She must have sensed that as well, because she quickly forced a false smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No…surely they must have been talking about me losing my boots.”

Her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, shifting into a grimace as a violent shiver shuddered over the limbs she struggled to pull close enough. She breathed out a heavy sigh and lowered her forehead to her knees with another tremble, and for once, Loki was grateful for the Jotun physiology keeping him relatively comfortable. But the woman didn’t share the same luxury of such a curse, and she was clearly suffering in these dank and grim conditions.

Loki turned his attention towards his fingers, twitching and fidgeting restlessly in his lap. This particular guilt was both new and unwelcome, like the haunting of fresh ghosts he thought he’d finally manage to not brutally murder for once. It wasn’t directly his fault she was here, that she was suffering. She was a complete stranger, after all, and this couldn’t have been his problem, or his responsibility.

But as Loki lifted his gaze again, carefully moving his eyes to avoid looking upon her once more, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s forgotten boots in the shadows, the ones carelessly stripped away while the guards were searching her the night before.

He recalled one of the first lessons Odin had explained about ruling a kingdom, that sometimes tact and finesse were far more effective than blades or might. Perhaps if Loki was kind instead of harsh, and if he returned the boots to the frozen woman, then she might help alleviate the nagging questions he still had and allow him to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer.

His brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard as he realized this was the least he could do for the both of them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like chopping off a limb when he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak again. “Your, um…boots are in here. They might help you with the…cold.”

The woman’s head popped back up, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned for them in the darkness. “Where are they? I don’t - ” she replied, clumsily attempting to push herself upright, obviously eager to get them back on as soon as possible.

Loki felt an odd sense of duty, one that had been buried deep underneath the many eons of pain, and it compelled him to act before he had the chance to second-guess himself. He moved slowly, shifting his weight onto his hip, and extended his arm out. His fingers were just long enough to barely grasp the black leather pull loops, to drag them closer and then place them within her reach while maintaining a safe distance, and without the need for him to stand.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she stretched to pull them closer. “Thank you so much, Loki.”

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact anymore; it was hard enough to listen to the bewildered gratitude in her voice. His every movement had stayed within the safe confines of the shadows, and he imagined that she saw her boots reappearing as if from the loving aid of a benevolent god, of someone else who was capable of caring.

“It was nothing,” he told them both.

He had fully intended to return his attention back inward, but he found himself distracted by the woman as she shifted on the floor. Curling and stretching her limbs, gracelessly attempting to pull a boot back on with a single hand, and then reluctantly, with both hands. She let out a gasping whimper as she tried to extend out her left arm, and Loki noticed her fingers trembling as she tried to push through the pain.

Obligation flared along his spine again, but this time, Loki questioned it. A childhood memory surfaced, of when his father would return home from war, bruised and exhausted and weary, and Loki would rush to his side, eager to help with removing his armor and assist in any way he could. He thought maybe if he proved himself useful, eager and determined, like his older brother was, then Odin might finally give him a chance to fight alongside him.

But even though his seidr had been well-advanced for his age, his father had always refused to bring Loki along, despite never leaving home without Thor. Odin had said that Loki wasn’t ready yet, that he wasn’t strong enough, that it was too dangerous for a little boy to be out on the field and surrounded by their mortal enemies.

“Such a young prince falling into the hands of Asgard’s opponents could prove disastrous to the realms,” his father had said, even though that fear had never stopped him from bringing Thor into battle. It wasn’t until much later that Loki realized the truth, that the only real use he had wasn’t needed back then - not until the direst of circumstances forced his father’s ultimate and final hand.

The woman let out a sharp groan, bringing Loki back to the present. She had collapsed back against the wall, sniffling and brushing the messy strands of crimson hair away from her face. “Loki, I’m so sorry…but can you please…?”

His eyes widened, and hers were full of tears. Her cheeks reddened, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke with a cracked voice. “Please help me? I’m so cold, and I can’t…I can’t get these back on…”

It wasn’t like the cold, calculating demands he was previously used to, and Loki realized that it pained her to ask like this. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him, she wasn’t manipulating her way into something more than she deserved, or trying to get him to commit atrocities in her name.

It wasn’t a game or a trick designed to be laughed at later with her friends; she genuinely just needed his help. But the problem was that this kind of assistance not only required him to vacate the shadows, to come closer and share the same air as her - it necessitated physical touch. Loki was sure he couldn’t handle that.

The muscles in his fingers articulated of their own accord, separating and curling into just the right place to summon and concentrate his seidr, intent on disassembling the atoms that made up the woman’s boots and reassembling them back where they belonged.

A suitable compromise, Loki believed, except that absolutely nothing happened. The warmth that normally accompanied his magic was nowhere to be found, that familiar connection to the past and the present, to his mother, wasn’t opening its loving arms to welcome him back home - and that was when he finally remembered.

Loki’s seidr was dead, because he was supposed to be dead.

He’d forsaken his magic as soon as he’d arrived here. Once he willingly stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon, once he’d realized that the first thing this newly-freed universe had done was trap him yet again, he decided that this time it was really meant to be.

So he didn’t bother fighting it, and he willingly let go of the tendrils of seidr he had once clung so tightly to. He didn’t deserve the honor of wielding it, not after what he’d done in New York. And what use would that magic have been to the hollowed-out shell of a person he was now? What good could he have possibly done with it anyway?

“Loki?”

Once again, the woman’s quiet voice refocused his attention. Her expression had fallen even further during his silent brooding, and she was staring woefully into the dark, desperately hoping to see him finally coming to her aid. A deep sense of dread rose up within his chest, thick and impenetrable, oozing between his ribs to singe and suffocate his lungs like molten lava.

Loki didn’t know what to do, and yet, he moved anyway. Pressing his palms flat against the stone floor, he bent his knees and carefully pushed himself upright. His joints cracked and popped, his muscles were stiff and sluggish as he slid one foot forward, and the belt around his waist was far looser than when he’d initially put it on.

Taking another step closer, his mind suddenly dizzied, and his body began to sway dangerously from the juxtaposition of pushing himself forward while he’d been wasting away. He quickly grabbed onto the wall with a sharp gasp, trying to steady himself as his legs tingled themselves awake.

“Loki…are you alright?” the woman murmured, her brow furrowing with concern.

“I’m fine, it’s just - ” Loki sighed heavily, his heart pounding and muscles trembling. “I’m just not used to…standing.”

Loki closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment, willing his body back into operating under his own control. But despite his best efforts, weariness and exhaustion were still permanently at the helm, relentlessly steering him back towards collapsing and passing out again.

“It’s alright. Take your time…”

Loki’s eyes snapped back open, painfully aware that she was still watching him closely, and he did everything he could to both avoid her gaze and her reassurance. Nothing about this was alright, and he could hear his father’s chastising voice from beyond the stars, criticizing him for allowing enervation to consume him - even though that was the only way to keep himself out of trouble.

His eyes flitted across the dungeon cell, feverishly taking in the stone walls and steel bars of the door, then out to the flickering lantern light of the hallway. Loki had never even bothered to take a good look at his coffin before committing to staying in it for all eternity, but from this elevation, he could clearly examine the cuts that made up the large slabs of the walls and floor. Meticulous, flawless, precise - too perfect to have been sliced by hand.

His gaze moved to the cream-colored candlestick suspended within the single lantern in the hallway, evenly melted away and without a single speck of soot upon the glass encasing it. From there, he could make out the grooves carved by the steel bars into the doorway’s arch as it swung open and closed, and the streaked and dark stains, smudged against the grayed and leadened floor, leading from the hallway back into their cell.

The woman’s blood, he assumed, and Loki’s hands clenched into fists. His throat tightened, and the slightest hint of outrage began to reluctantly wake from its slumber.

Forcing the feeling away, Loki finally closed the distance and carefully crouched in front of the woman; only then did he let her be the focus of his attention. Loose and uneven strands of crimson had been pulled free from the long, disheveled braid nestled untidily over her shoulder;her skin was wan and pallid, and her lips were tinted with the faintest hint of blue.

Dried blood had smeared on her ear, her neck, the lengths of her hair and along her cheek. It was everywhere, mixed with the dirt and muck from the floor, coating the corners of her cracked lips and the freckles that dotted her cheekbone. The fact that the blood was dried, meaning the original wound was at the very least no longer actively bleeding, did nothing to make him feel better.

Loki lowered one knee down to the floor, precariously settling his weight onto one ankle, and the woman’s attention was now entirely fixed on her boots. She swallowed nervously, and Loki silently agreed with the sentiment. How long had it been since he’d touched another person? Did he even remember how to be gentle? How to not contaminate?

Moving cautiously, he took a boot into his grasp, threading his fingers between the loops and slowly pulling to loosen its laces. While he worked, he focused on the soft leather: its scent was herbal, earthy, and with just the barest suggestion of sweetness. Intricate designs, swirls and constellations and rays of light emanating from an overly-stylized sun were stitched into the leather, extending from the collar and flowing down way past the ankle.

Soft, pliable and shiny, the leather still showed signs of its latest polish, applied with a healthy dose of high-quality wax, from underneath the layers of grim. The boots had been methodically cared for, regularly and recently, and probably not too long before the woman found herself in custody of the mysterious guards. Loki found himself curious about the circumstances of her capture.

Stained in the same shade of night as the leathers covering her legs, they blended seamlessly together with the rest of her clothing, from the thin stockings on her feet to the chipped lacquer on her fingernails. Everything was the exact same color, save for the thin, flowing emerald tunic that had long since come untucked, and the gem that hung from her neck.

And everything she wore was undoubtedly expensive, most likely customized for this particular owner, and she had obviously not dressed for being locked inside a damp and grimy dungeon. At best, she was prepared for a pleasant walk through the woods on a mildly chilly evening; Loki tried not to think about it too much.

Out of his peripheral vision, Loki could see the woman stealing glances up at him. She watched him carefully, her sea green eyes shifting cautiously between his face, his hands, and the boot he was unlacing - obviously examining and judging the hideous monster whose help she had no choice but to accept.

Loki began to feel self-conscious. There was no doubt that his own appearance wasn’t any better than her own at the moment; in fact, he was sure it was much, much worse. Dark and unkempt curls hung way past his shoulders like sinister snakes. The skin on his hands was sullen and pallor, shifting dangerously close to bluish gray, and he had no idea if his eyes had begun to drift back into their original shade of ruby-red or not. He promised himself that this would be the only time she ever saw his face up close.

When he could no longer justify stalling with the laces, he cleared his throat, and forced his fingers to tap the underside of her leg; a featherlight touch that could have been easily missed if one hadn’t been expecting it. But the woman again mercifully sensed his meaning, and she positioned the appropriate foot for him to slide the boot on.

Too well, Loki noticed, as he pulled the collar up to settle around her calf; she was exceptionally practiced at having others put footwear on her - at tensing the right muscles at just the right moment, and extending the leg with just enough force to seat the foot comfortably against the insole.

“Sorry about this…” she mumbled as Loki pulled the laces tight and began looping them back and forth around the hooks. “Although, this is probably the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while, huh?”

She was trying to lighten the mood, to distract from the previous awkwardness of such close quarters. Loki’s response was flat and measured, his attention focused on tying instead of talking. “Like I said - it’s nothing.”

A nervous silence followed, one that was far more uncomfortable than the awkwardness. Loki hadn’t meant to be so dismissive, and perhaps he’d been far too frigid for someone who was supposed to be helping her. When he finished the final loop, he cleared his throat again and forced himself to look up again.

“Is that…too tight for you?” he murmured softly.

The woman managed a weak smile as she flexed her ankle. “No. It feels fine.”

Loki noted that her pupils dilated ever so slightly when she met his gaze, and he took that as a good sign that her head injury wasn’t a completely serious one. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that, but nonetheless, he had, and he didn’t have the energy to start questioning it. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the other boot and threading his fingers underneath its laces like he’d done with the first.

“Is this all I have left? Just waiting in this cell to die?”

Her voice had taken on a somber, more sorrowful tone now; apparently open anguish was much easier for her than polite small-talk, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, Loki would have guessed there would have been more than a tear or two accompanying her questions. He wasn’t sure how to answer her; bringing up the fact that the other prisoners before her had never lasted more than a day or two, or the fact that they were never returned once removed from their cells, probably wasn’t going to help her mood very much.

“At least they’re leaving you alone for the most part,” Loki answered, lightly tapping his fingers underneath her other leg for the placement of its boot. “Be thankful for relative peace.”

The woman sighed heavily as she cooperated. “Relative peace. That’s all I have to look forward to?”

“For some, that’s all they’ve ever wanted,” Loki said absentmindedly. “They’d kill for it, and others willingly die in its pursuit…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in troubled concern, and Loki tried to ignore it. He couldn’t understand why he was like this, either speaking too familiarly with the woman, or far too flippantly. He was out of practice when it came to any sort of normal conversation, but he didn’t want to be accustomed to it again. In the end, she was just a temporary distraction, and he wasn’t supposed to even exist at all.

“That’s very enlightened, coming from someone who has nightmares every time he closes his eyes…” the woman replied as he finished tying the laces on the other boot. She flexed that ankle, and then nodded her approval while pulling her knees back against her chest.

Loki’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze once more. Her eyes were wide and open, appearing to be without a single shred of judgment, only empathy. Loki couldn’t help but scrutinize her for that. If she only knew how little he deserved kindness, and he was irritated that she’d noticed how bad his nightmares were at all. He’d rather have not known that his weakness was on complete display, and thus, beyond his complete control.

Slowly pushing himself back up to standing, grateful that the task and its requisite close proximity were finally over, Loki’s fingertips trailed along the cold stone as he backed into the shadows again. But lethargy was creeping back in, along with the ever-present unsettled and restless energy, and when Loki returned to sitting, he wasn’t quite as far into the dark as he had been before.

“You know, it may help your nightmares to talk about them,” the woman suggested cautiously. “Perhaps unburdening yourself a little would be a good thing…”

Loki grimaced. Of all the ways she could have worded it, he wished it hadn’t been in that specific way. As it were, various burdens of all sorts were already going to haunt him until the end of time, it seemed, and he preferred not to be reminded of the purposes initially set upon him by Thanos. And even if he wanted to, where should he begin?

He still didn’t quite understand what exactly had happened to him on Knowhere; that entire year was just a chaotic haze of torture and manipulation, through both physical and psychological means, and it was impossible for him to decipher what was real and what was a lie. Even now, he couldn’t even recall the exact circumstances that led to his descent from the Bifrost and into Thanos’ control.

Sometimes, he could clearly remember the decision to let go of Gungnir and fall into the abyss; other times, he was absolutely convinced that his brother had pushed him in a jealous rage, furious that Loki’s short tenure as King had proved far more successful than any longer one Thor could have ever managed.

Either way, the fall had resulted in him becoming Thanos’ prisoner, and then later, as a member of the Black Order - but only after they’d finally conceded that physical torture was never going to work on the body of a Frost Giant, on an Asgardian prince raised as a warrior, or on a powerful sorcerer who already had extremely complicated feelings about being alive in the first place.

But once they realized that he just wanted somewhere to belong, they finally started to see real progress, and the emotional manipulation that followed was probably more effective than they could have ever hoped for. It was so very easy to muddy the rough waters of Loki’s psyche thanks to the Chitauri Scepter and his tremendous heartbreak - a kind word here, a clever lie there, and nothing but speeches about revenge and betrayals, destinies and purposes, salvation and redemption, and scorned Kings and their disgraced sons.

After Loki had been welcomed into the fold, Thanos explained his need for the Tesseract; if Loki acquired it, then he would be granted an army to help take Midgard by as excessive and violent force as he deemed necessary. The God of Mischief already knew that he wanted to be as destructive as possible - to both completely cripple his brother’s fondness for the pathetic humans, and to show Odin that he would settle for being a terrifying leader if he wasn’t permitted to be a good one.

His idea for retrieving the Tesseract had been a clever one; so clever that Loki wasn’t surprised that Thanos or the Black Order hadn’t ever considered it before. But getting to suggest it meant that his new Master was immediately pleased with his usefulness, something that had rarely happened with his previous keeper, and Loki was so grateful for the opportunity to satisfy.

Out of the six Infinity Stones, the Space Stone was unique in that it could generate massive amounts of self-sustaining energy. Its power signature was incredibly easy to track, and it didn’t take long for Loki to determine the Tesseract’s location inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. Under Fury’s careful and watchful eye, the mortals were studying its capabilities for power production, no doubt to be used in some kind of advanced weapons manufacture instead of something that could actually be used to help mankind.

A stereotypically short-sighted action, one that would soon be their downfall, because none of those weapons would ever be able to stop him from completing his task. Had they realized the stone’s true potential, as Loki had, then perhaps the humans might have fared better during his invasion.

Because he knew something that apparently no one else did, something he now prayed that no one else would ever be able to figure out. Loki was in the unusual position of understanding exactly how the Bifrost had operated, of how it could easily send and receive anything from across the galaxies with frightening and pinpoint accuracy. As a child, he was fascinated by the Bifrost, and more than once Heimdall had to stop him from attempting to disassemble it while searching for the details of its inner workings.

Once informed of her son’s unyielding curiosities, his mother had patiently redirected that energy towards Asgard’s massive libraries. There, he spent many late nights pouring over the texts and histories of the magnificent Bifrost. Once he’d devoured all he could from words, he then spent his time exploring the Realm and looking for means of travel that didn’t involve going to the Bifrost at all.

And thanks to the Mad Titan’s relentless and universal conquest in search of the stones, Loki had access to incalculable amounts of lore, research and history that had been stolen from countless cultures and societies. He spent months buried in books and manuscripts, performing calculations and practicing his seidr, searching desperately for the perfect combination of science and magic to get him what he needed.

All of that, when combined with his extensive knowledge of the Bifrost, allowed Loki to realize that all he needed was a power-source. It must have been fate and its impeccable sense of humor, because the Space Stone could be the engine, and the Tesseract was going to be the gateway - a terrible, incredible bridge between where you were, and where you desperately wanted to be.

For Loki, the Tesseract was going to deliver him to vengeance, respect, authority and glory - in a way that no one would be able to undo once he finally got it. His brother, his father, the entire Nine Realms and beyond, all of them would be powerless to stop him once he figured out how to open the Tesseract’s portal from the other side.

Returning to his research with a new sense of delirium, he gave up on sleep, and food, and his sanity while he searched for the answer. His cheeks became hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his skin grew weak and frail. His nerves were on the verge of total disintegration, his heart ached and his mind was hazy.

His every waking thought was consumed by the Tesseract, and on the rare occasion that he actually passed out, so were his nightmares. He became too lost to even carry on a conversation; all he could manage were grunts and groans and strange approximations of the word “Tesseract”. Every part of himself, anything that had once been Loki, had all but slipped away.

But occasionally, Loki would come back to himself. He would look down at his hands in horror, and he wouldn’t understand where he was or how he got there. While screaming and lashing out, the one called Ebony Maw would preach about balance, about salvation and judgment and how Loki was destined to assist the Great Titan in saving all of life, by ending half of it. He was instructed to be grateful for being allowed to take part in it.

But it didn’t make any sense, and Loki tried so hard to resist, to fight them off, to scramble to the exit and free himself, to warn someone of the terrible thing that was coming. Then, something would happen, something would touch him, and his mind would cloud back over with rage and madness. The dangerous craving for the Tesseract would return tenfold, and then he would be back on task, more eager than ever to please.

After a quick journey through the minds of the men known as Selvig and Barton, Loki finally had everything he needed to complete his sacred mission. The astrophysicist filled in the last remaining gaps about the Tesseract’s functionalities, and the archer revealed information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols - how many personnel were on site, what types of weapons they had, where they’d been trained. The details of every file stored on their secret servers, every individual’s personal histories - including that of the beings once considered to join the so-called Avengers, the ones that might be called upon to stop him.

On his first attempt, Loki succeeded in opening the Tesseract’s portal. One moment, he was standing on Thanos’ ship, and the next, he was inside the research facility, shrouded within a haze of smoke and mania. By the third second, he was ferociously attacking, moving and acting without consideration for the stealth or secrecy he’d been trained with as a child. He didn’t even bother dodging the humans’ pathetic projectiles; instead, he focused on murdering the ones he had already deemed useless to his cause, and using the Sceptre to convert the ones that were worthy of it

Nor did he bother mincing words with Fury as the Director stalled for time, not even the ones ripped directly from Ebony Maw’s impassioned and self-important speeches. Loki already knew how unstable the gateway was, and that was by design. During his maniacal studies, he had determined how best to sustain the portal’s opening for safe and easy passage - first, in order to allow entry for the Chitauri forces, and then to facilitate easy travel for Thanos to find the rest of the stones later on.

Loki’s first act of murder had been intentionally not stabilizing the portal as it opened inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; he had wanted the structure to collapse in a stunning display of destruction. Whether it was to be an ominous warning for what he was about to do, or if it was to serve as a call to action for the only ones who could have prevented him from succeeding, he still wasn’t quite sure.

Either way, he ultimately failed in the only way that had mattered. Loki didn’t achieve vengeance or respect or authority, and there was no victory or glory waiting for him after it was over. The Chitauri Forces were destroyed, the Tesseract was not handed over to Thanos per their agreement, and he’d made a great many vicious and unforgiving enemies that day.

In the end, the only thing waiting for him was a prison cell on Asgard, and all he’d managed to do was to make everything worse.

And presumably, after it was over, Thanos still had access to all of Loki’s research. Losing out on the Tesseract would have infuriated him and the Black Order; a minor inconvenience, sure, but it wouldn’t have hindered their quest in the slightest. Thanos still knew how to use the Tesseract because of him - and more importantly, he understood how to use it in the most destructive way possible. That was completely and entirely Loki’s fault, and he just hoped that Thanos was arrogant enough to keep that information to himself, that no one else would try and fail in the same catastrophic way that Loki had.

Maybe the Tesseract wasn’t meant to be used as a gateway, and in doing so, Loki had ensured that he’d never get what he wanted, and that he’d lose what little he had left. All of that madness and frantic chaos and deliberate carnage had been for absolutely nothing. Maybe the Tesseract was cursed, and maybe, so was he.

Because every single time Loki had come into contact with it, his life had taken a drastic and even more devastating turn for the worse. Attempting to acquire it for Thanos had broken him - mind, body, and soul; fleeing New York with it had landed him in the clutches of the TVA; and apparently, it had been his ultimate destiny to die while trying to keep it from the Mad Titan.

The absolute last thing Loki ever wanted was to be reminded of the Tesseract - more than he wanted silence, or solitude, or to rot. And now this woman wanted to know what his nightmares were about?

Even if he had made it to the prison cell on Asgard, he wasn’t planning to explain himself to anyone. What was he supposed to tell his brother, his mother, his father? That he’d been deceived? Were they going to believe that he’d fallen for someone else’s lies so easily, and without question? That the God of Mischief himself had been tricked, played for a fool and made to be the universe’s largest and most pathetic scapegoat?

No, trying to justify his actions would be a grave disservice to the innocent lives he’d taken, and telling the truth was next to impossible. Even just talking about the betrayal of his family would be too much for him to bear, and that was the only aspect of the entire thing that Loki had never, ever second-guessed.

The woman continued stealing glances in his direction, from just a few feet away now. Still waiting for him to say something, anything, to help keep her mind distracted from her own plights. For the briefest of moments, he actually considered asking if she’d ever heard of the Tesseract, or the Infinity Stones. If she knew who Thanos was, if he’d ever been to this planet before…but as Loki fidgeted with his tie, running his fingers over the frayed and broken seams in the cloth, he knew the answer didn’t matter.

The appropriate time to have asked that question would have been when he’d first arrived, back when the TemPad still had the power to take him some place else if need be. But now the TemPad was dead; he was trapped here, and the longer he could go without hearing about the Tesseract, the better. The longer he could go on in the blissful ignorance of relative peace, and without talking about himself, the easier this would be for everyone.

“How did you wind up here anyway?” He winced as he spoke, hating himself for being more than a little curious about it. “I can’t imagine the guards asking you to come along nicely…”

The woman hesitated for a moment, no doubt replaying the events in her mind and wishing she had done something differently. Her fingers grasped the gem that hung from her neck, and she swallowed hard. “I was…taken from Tessaway, my home, in the middle of the night.”

She paused, her eyes focused on something non-existent in the distance. “I don’t know how they made it past the sentries, but they…managed, somehow. They took me from my bed, while I slept…”

Loki shook his head, trying to appear sympathetic. “You lived in a heavily guarded city. It must be a very dangerous place…”

“Tessaway isn’t a city,” she corrected, furrowing her brow as she looked over at him. “It’s the castle in Fayrest. You know, the capital city…?”

He didn’t know any of that, of course, having never left this cell. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to, and he couldn’t help but think about why she had seemed to imply before that no one was going to rescue her. “Wouldn’t someone from the castle have noticed your absence? Surely they have to be looking for you by now…”

“No…” The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, her expression broken and forlorn. “No, I was just a servant. No one important enough to miss…”

Loki had been studying her carefully ever since he’d realized her captors were going to keep her alive for much longer than they had the others. Her movements were elegant and refined, her clothing and jewelry expensive and customized, her speech graceful and enchanting; the kind of charming that could only come from years of practice. He didn’t believe for a second that she was just a servant working in a castle.

But she was also clearly in a tremendous amount of pain, and for whatever reason, was keeping the origins of her birth a secret. Loki wondered what might have happened to him if he had been given that luxury, if he hadn’t been the only one to not know the truth about himself.

“Ah, a servant,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. His unpracticed lips curved into a forced and lazy grin. “That certainly explains why you’re so concerned about my well-being…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in amusement, and she tilted her head curiously as if taking his comment as a challenge. “What’s the matter? Are you not used to someone worrying about your well-being?”

Loki’s jaw tensed; perhaps he hadn’t been behaving as opaquely as he hoped, and he hated that she could see through him just as well as he could through her. He glanced over, and decided to provoke her right back. “Well, I’m sure they’ll miss you at the castle eventually. Like when there’s pots that need washing, or linens that need changing?”

“Yes, yes, that’s very funny…” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I get it, the thing about servants is that no one knows your name until something you normally do suddenly isn’t being done anymore…”

The woman turned, and she met his gaze with a considering and dissecting one of her own. “Like you - you don’t need anything from me, so why would you ever bother learning my name?”

From just a few feet away, the woman stared deep into his soul, tugging at the strings that still held him upright and all but questioning if they were even necessary. He waited until she looked away to furrow his brow again, because while she was right about him not needing anything from her, she was surely mistaken about the other half of her point.

Because he did actually know her name; it was the first new name he’d learned in such a very long time, and he thought it suited her quite well, all things considered. But he had been trying to avoid acknowledging it, not wanting it to mean something more than what it was.

It was just a name, after all; a series of specific vocalizations designed to get her attention. Saying it out loud didn’t mean that they were friends, or that they were even important to each other. It wouldn’t bind them in any way, or obligate him to care. But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with saying it?

Loki could feel a nervous energy creeping relentlessly up his spine again. He wished it would stop receding, that it would stay put, because the constant shifting between relaxing and stressing was completely wearing him out. He told himself he just needed to say it out loud and get it over with, before he could start second-guessing and talk himself out of it again - especially now that she had noticed his careful avoidance of her name.

“What kind of servant knows how to fight with a staff anyway?” Loki asked, affecting an innocent and casual tone. “I guess servants named Oliviette do…”

After he answered his own question, Loki looked towards her again, and Oliviette was already smiling back at him; it was a bleary and quiet acknowledgement, but the sentiment was definitely noteworthy. For the first time since they’d met, he could see the dimples in her cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the way her eyes lit up with mirth, or how her lips pursed before she finally responded.

“What? Am I not allowed to have hobbies outside of work?”

Loki struggled to not return her smile. He almost felt a sense of appreciation for her snark and the much-needed diversion from the constant aching in his chest. It was only then that he remembered that this was supposed to be a temporary distraction; he couldn’t afford to spend needless energy that didn’t directly involve finding out why the guards were keeping Oliviette alive for this long.

Keeping a safe distance was paramount, his new glorious purpose. Trust was for children and dogs, wasn’t that how he’d put it to Mobius during their first meeting? As long as he stayed here, keeping himself isolated and protected, then he couldn’t ever be tricked into being someone else’s attack dog ever again. He couldn’t ever hurt anyone again.

Besides, it was highly implausible that her life would end in any way other than tragically. Loki’d already had quite enough of that - and would it be worth getting close to her, even if it didn’t?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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