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lokisgoodgirl · 1 month

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Teenage Dream [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A trip to Asgard means a visit to Loki's childhood bedroom - and his teenage fantasy. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ only. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Smut. Body fluids etc etc. Language.

“This is your childhood bedroom?!” Loki’s arms spread wider, turning in a lazy circle as you gape at the high ceilings and golden cornicing. Open archways lead to a balcony which runs along the full side of one wall, Asgard sprawling below in afternoon sunlight. It’s huge.

“What did you expect?” Loki shoots a lovingly indignant look over his shoulder. “Some kind of hovel-sized quarter the kind of which Stark has bestowed on Lang?”

His boots thud in quick succession on polished marble before he jumps through the air and lands on the modest queen-size with a bounce – a hand balled at his temple. The sheets have clearly been replaced since he last laid in it, but old habits die hard. The green and gold of his colours is in full effect in this room from the curtains to the tapestries and the quilt draped across the mattress. “Lie with me,” he says, looking up through his lashes. “Please?”

Something about seeing Loki dressed in his, what he still calls, ‘Midgard garms’ suddenly seems ridiculous in one of Asgard’s royal bedchambers. A pair of tight black jeans cling to his muscles, denim shifting as he draws one knee over the other to rest on the bed. His forest green t-shirt has ridden up at his lower stomach, a victim of the obscene measurements of his stretching body. He chuckles lightly, making a thick line of his obliques tighten as he slips his fingers further into mussed hair. "I told you I was a prince," he says sheepishly.

You make your way to the bed and he flips to his back, releasing a happy groan as you straddle him. His eyelids droop, a flash of his upper teeth as he bites his bottom lip. "Frigga will be expecting us," you say as you roll your hips against his crotch. "Uhhh...gods-" he grunts, large palms rubbing up your thighs tight on either side of his chest. ‘Frigga can wait. I said I would give you a tour, and give you a tour...I shall.’ "Not from down there you won’t."

You yelp as Loki sits up and his lips fasten to yours, hand cradling the back of your head and forcing you in a violent kiss. He bites your bottom lip, sucking out gently. You moan softly as his hands begin to rub your thighs again. He’s needy. The sentimentality of bringing you Asgard for the first time is doing a real number on him. Your fingers run down his neck, down the hard dips and ridges of his abdomen through the t-shirt.

“I used to pleasure myself in this bed, dreaming of a woman like you-” he says huskily, beginning to thrust upwards. The painfully tight erection bursting against denim rubs against your gusset, toying back and forth. You feel a swell of arousal web between your folds as your eyes dart towards the open door. Just a crack, but it’s enough. The guards are never far in the palace it seems, even for a Prince who’s all grown up.

“Say more,” you tease. It’s a whisper, but it seems to echo. Loki chuckles quietly into the curve of your neck before he tips you easily to the side. You meet the mattress with a bounce, your head disappearing between the crevice of two plush pillows. Loki’s long form rises above you, impossibly rectangular, spread on his knees, the denim screaming around his crotch.

“It may come as a surprise to you that I was an awkward young man,” he starts, riding up the hem of his t-shirt. His leather belt sits maddeningly at the dent of his hips, perfect alabaster skin of his stomach flashing into view. “No!? I would never have guessed...” you joke, surprised at your ability to think straight as Loki’s shirt pops over his head. He throws it away, skittering gently across the marble floor. His eyes flash mischievously.

“But I had urges, of course; fucked myself night after night like a demon; elaborate fantasies formed in my head with excruciating detail.” He falls forward against the pillows, the bulge of his shoulders tensing as he cages you.

“I wouldn’t let myself cum until every detail in my head was perfect,” he breathes, letting long tendrils of hair drag against your throat in time with the filth of his dulcet syllables. “Again and again. It was enough to drive a young man to madness.”

“Did you ever have-?” you start, cut off by a pathetic moan as Loki drags his bound cock against your clit. “Never," he whispers. "This bed is as virginal as myself when I left it.”

The warm glow of his magic pulses from his skin. Loki’s jeans are gone, replaced by a green silk robe open at the waist. It's Asgardian craftsmanship, that much is obvious. Gold weaving edges the hem, its age betrayed only by the sleeves which are a little too short. The sage shimmer melts into the wave of his hair, and for a second you can’t bring yourself to believe there wasn’t a line forming outside his bedroom every night after he came of age.

He rests back on his haunches between your legs, flipping out the robe at the nip of his taut waist. Loki’s eyes smoulder, waiting for you to ask.

“Which one do you want?” you say. It times perfectly with a twitch of his proud cock as he draws a finger back and forth along its length. His chin dips and a small smile creeps at the corner of his lips.

Loki raises a hand, a theatrical snap of his fingers making the ceiling height door to the chamber swing closed with an almighty clang. Even under normal circumstances, doors don’t close quietly in the palace; it is by design.

“My goddess riding me,” he says, raising his gaze to yours. “Then once I’ve filled her, she crawls to my face; smothers me with her perfect, dripping sex; calls my name so loudly in ecstasy that my brother hears it all the way in the taverns.”

Your brows raise. “That’s quite specific.”

Loki shrugs. “I told you. It needed to be perfect. I spent a lot of time thinking about it.” You shuffle up on the pillows, curling one side of his silk robe in a fist and pulling his mouth to yours. He manoeuvres around, lying back against the pillows with bright eyes while you crawl on top of him once more.

“Are you my sweet virginal Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes. Loki snickers. "If you like." “I do.” “Aright then,” he sniffs. “Although I should warn you, for a virgin – I am rather an expert.” “Shhh-” You press a finger to his lips. "I read a lot of books," he explains with overly-earnest eyes, muffled against your finger. “Let’s get you some practice, then..” you whisper, rolling your hips up the length of his cock. Loki whimpers, brows slanting. You can't tell if that part is for show. With a slip of his hand against your ass you feel your dress dissolve, the nip of a breeze through the open arches making your nipples stiffen. Loki’s head leaves the pillow and catches one in his mouth as your hand guides his cock between your legs. You rub the tip against your slit, slipping back and forth as guttural groans roll in his throat.

"My virgin Prince," you coo.

Loki’s head falls back to the pillow, a warning brow rising. But his eyes sparkle. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock; each hard inch of muscle tugging against your walls as you settle to the hilt.

“Every time you do that,” Loki rasps, “it’s everything I ever dreamt of in this bed, I swear.” You flatten a curl of hair back from his forehead, rocking your hips back and forth. His hands slide up your waist, cupping your breasts as he pants beneath you. A vein in his neck throbs as he grits his teeth to the ceiling. He won’t last, not today. And that’s just fine.

You press his shoulders down, limiting his thrusts. If he wanted to, he could overthrow the touch in an instant. But he wont, not today; not in this bed. Every time you reach the tip of his cock you squeeze and his lips part; every time you sink him deep into your cunt they press together, like he doesn’t trust himself not to howl. The squelching is louder now. The moaning, too. You and Loki have fucked many times, in many places – in every conceivable position, each time you think you could never be more aroused, he proves you wrong. But something’s different about him here. When his beautiful eyes open, the dark fan of his lashes seem to pop against the vibrant blue ringing blown pupils.

Loki’s fingers sink deep into the plump of your ass. He pulls in time with your rhythm, drawing the flat of his feet up. In seconds, he sits up to meet your mouth; his tongue lapping against yours with quiet desperation. Your fingers run down his abdomen and you feel his stomach clench.

“Fill me, baby-” you whine into his open mouth, “show me what Asgard’s finest cock can give me.” Loki grunts in pleasured anguish, thrusting in erratic shudders as he erupts inside your heat. The angle is tight. Fresh seed creams at the seal of your slit and wells around the rim of his half-sheathed cock as he comes undone with a ragged exhale of your name. He captures you in a messy kiss, falling away from your mouth to your chest before collapsing back to the pillows. He squints with one eye, a lazy hand beckoning. “You sure?” There’s an unusual shyness in your voice. Loki nods with a wolfish, lopsided grin; drunk on sex. You shuffle up his abdomen, feeling a thick roll of hot cum settling against your inner thigh. Your fingers curl around the wooden headboard, Loki’s large palms settling on your ass and keeping you high. His head tilts, warm tongue tracing your inner thigh and sucking his seed from your skin. A violent shiver of desire rolls down your spine, making you thrust towards his face.

“I’ll try my best-” he purrs in character from between your legs.

His eyes are all you can see as his tongue outstretches. They disappear as he dips further back, running his warmth between your folds. He tilts his chin up, a white pool collected on his tongue. Loki of Asgard looks up from bottomless eyes, the planes of his cheekbones sharpened. You shoot down and jam your tongue into his open mouth. His cum swirls within the kiss, mingling with the earthy taste of your own pussy – swallows and moans and filth sliding down your throats. Loki gasps loudly as your kiss breaks with a slurp. “Was that in your fantasy?” you ask innocently, resuming your position above his head. “I regret now, that even in the depths of my teenage depravity, it was not,” Loki growled, squeezing your ass-cheeks. He nudges you closer. “Now, finish me,” he orders as he pushes you down against his face. The flat of Loki’s tongue meets your plump clit. Each flush and fat stripe of the muscle has no pretence – he intends to make you climax; and climax hard. Your nails dig into the headboard, scratching down pristine oak lined with gold. Images of Loki as a virginal youth rear in your mind, thrashing in these sheets, under this very ceiling, twisting and unravelling beneath the beat of his fist. Your thighs begin to tremble, held steady by his fingertips sinking deep into the curve of your ass. Loki’s tongue is relentless; it swirls and captures every flush of sparking orgasm and tends it with the next lap of his attentions. Before long, your legs tense – and somehow, one of your hands has tangled in his hairline, pushing him deeper, his nose slotted perfectly at the lip of your mound. The sight is all it takes. “Loki-” you choke, punctuated by a final devastatingly soft lick of his flat tongue over your sex. “Mmrph…” he grunts, brow furrowing. You hold your breath as climax shatters you, the exhale a strangled sob of his name that sings around the ceilings and tumbles out the archways.

You collapse on his chest, the two of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of fresh sweat clings to his skin. You trace the angle of his jaw, smiling as a dream-like peace descends on his features. “Do you think Thor heard?” “From Midgard? I doubt it,” Loki sighs, letting one of his legs fall open to the side. He’s hard again. “But I can let that part of the fantasy slide. Everything else was...perfection, my love.” You prop a fist beneath your chin. “Maybe we just need to try harder.”

“Fuck harder, you mean?” Loki says, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “You did promise me a palace tour…” you say, drawing your knuckles up the velvet skin of his cock stretching against his stomach. Loki’s smirk grows wider.

Tags (continued in comments)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @thevillainswhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki marvel #loki x you #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #lokismut #loki x you smut #loki imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Dirty Work 48

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: My tumblr page wouldn't load on PC so I hope this posts?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

A moan flutters between your lips as Loki's mouth closes around your nipple. His fingers daintily brush over the bruise along the other side of your chest, lingering on the bite mark before quickly trailing down. He fondles you as he swirls his tongue and hums, the low note rolling through you.

Your chest coils tight as you lay helpless. This isn't what you want, you want to talk, yet you cannot stop him or the heat coursing from your core. You tilt your chin up, arching your spine as he tickles along your side.

You close your eyes and try to push away the thoughts storming inside of you. Forget about everything; about Thor, and the locked door, and that fear plucking at your chest. This is what you're supposed to do. As long as he wants this, you still have a place here.

He brushes along the angle of your pelvis and down the crease of your thigh. You gasp as his touch sends a chill through you. He drags himself down your body, feeling along your legs as he lifts your feet onto the bed. You bend your knees, open to him as he slithers over the edges.

He kneels at the side of the bed and you turn your head away, shy as he glides a finger between your folds. You push your hands down to cover yourself, knowing he's looking at you.

He pulls your hands apart, twining his fingers through yours as he leans forward. You tense as his breath scours you and he delves his tongue along your cunt. You squeak and spasm at the cool sensation as it mingles with your warmth.

Your toes curl as he dives into you, cling to your hands as he laps you up ravenously. You moan and squeeze your thighs against his head. You rock as he teases you just so, tasting you with delighted growls.

He lets go of one hand, drawing his down, tracing a line along your flesh and down to your thigh. His tongue flicks over your clit as he prods along your entrance, toying with you as he spreads the slickness gathering there.

You whine as he dips a fingertip inside, he pulls in and out, sliding deeper each time. Your walls clench around him as your nerves ping against each other. You reach down without a thought, latching onto the coils of his hair.

He pushes another finger into you, sinking up to his knuckles. He rocks his hand in time with the motion of his tongue dancing around your tender bud. You tilt your hips towards him, welcoming him in as you block out the world on the other side of your eyelids.

You feel the bloom inside of you, like a morning glory opening to the sweet rays of sunlight. Your breath hitches and your muscles draw tight. You grit your teeth down on a moan and tug at his hair, rolling against his mouth, pleading wordlessly for more.

He keeps going, faster, deeper, working his hand against you as he drinks in your pleasure. You pant wildly as you ascend, higher and higher, and the wave crests, crashing down on you in tendrils. You twitch and whine, giving in to the sheer ecstasy of his touch.

He doesn't relent. He releases your other hand and spreads his hand wide across your stomach as if to hold you there. You couldn't move if you tried. You're so overwrought by his tending, your legs slip down and dangle over the edge.

You lift your head and your lashes part. You peer down at his dark strands as they drape over your pelvis, tickling along your lower stomach. The very sight of him lights a new fire in you. You fall limp and drone weakly. It's too much and yet you don't want him to stop.

Another orgasm breaks within you. This one has your voice pitchy as it piques. You cry out and thrash, the scattering of your nerves too intense.

You yank on his hair and push on the side of his head.

“Please, please, I can't…” you beg.

He chuckles against your cunt and rams his fingers as far as they'll go. You squeal and jolt on the mattress, pulling a hand asay to slap the bed.

“Please,” you whimper, “Loki…”

“Yesss,” he hisses and flicks his tongue up, “say my name, pet.”

“Loki,” you huff, “Loki, please…”

He purrs as he tastes you again, growling into you. You squirm and clasp the blanket, dragging it towards you as your nails graze his scalp. Your eyes roll back and you suck in air through your nose.

“Loki!” You exclaim, “Loki, I-I–”

You quake as you cum a third time. The bed trembles with you as you sink into the waves. Your hand falls away from his head and you just lay there in surrender.

He raises his head, parting from you as his humid breath stains your skin. You shiver as he slips his fingers from you, dragging them between your folds and you close your legs. He retracts his touch with a snarl and stands.

As he looms over you, you fold onto your side. Your heart raises, breath bated, skin buzzing. You watch his shadow against the wall as he unbuttons his shirt.

You inhale and let your eyes close. You're tired already. You listen to the rustle of his clothing as he undresses. A current flows through you at the thought of what he'll do next. A tremor at the question mark still between you.

He crawls onto the bed. He urges you onto your back as he brings himself over you, keeping himself cradled between your open legs. He sweeps his hand along your hairline and down your cheek, framing your face as he bows to kiss you.

His nose presses against yours but the pain fades into the echoes of delight. He curls his other arm beneath you. He breaks away from your lips and smears his mouth down your cheek. He nibbles and nuzzles down to your neck.

His hand creeps down to your chest once more, savouring every curve and line, doting on every inch. His naked body crushes yours into the bed as he growls and nips at your throat. You moan as his length rubs against you.

He shifts his knees, lifting himself, angling his tip down and gliding it along your cunt. You grasp the back of his head, chest clutching, muscles knotted. Are you ready for this?

It doesn't matter. He isn't stopping and you can't make him. His hand snakes down as he guides himself along your folds, wetting himself as he groans into the crook of your neck. He pushes against you, your body resisting his intrusion.

You hook your other arm around his neck, hugging him as he rocks, working against the invisible barrier. He eases inside, stretching you around his swollen tip as you whine and whimper. Your eyes prick with tears as ripples sear through you.

He wiggles his hips, patiently tilting until he slides a bit further. You gasp and push your head back, your arm looping tighter around his neck as you clutch his arm with your other hand. He breathes against your skin as he thrusts carefully, each time a little further.

“Mmm,” he purrs, “pet, you're so good…” his teeth pinch you again, “how could I not want this.”

He delves in even deeper and you exclaim. A heavy pain fills you as he overrides the last of your resistance. You dig your nails into his firm muscle as his hand slips beneath your ass, lifting your pelvis against him.

He sinks to his limit and your tears flow over. Through the agony, the spark remains, burning hot through your core. He unhooks his other arm from beneath you and stretches his hand across your neck, his fingers closing around your throat as he pushes his lips to your cheek.

He rolls his hips as you whimper. You gnash your teeth and you flutter your lashes against the swell of pain. Slowly it recedes and once more you plunge into the raging tides.

The bed moves with him, scraping on the floor as he ruts hard and faster. He puffs against your cheek, gristly whispers wafting into your ear, “pet… so delicious… mine…”

He squeezes your neck tighter as he picks up his motion. The friction of his pelvis strikes heat in your clit, burning hotter and hotter with his tempo. You wheeze above his grip and whine, spasming through another climax.

“Say it,” he snarls.

You obey, “Loki.”

“Louder,” he demands, pounding you into the bed, his body flush to yours, sweaty skin sticking together.

“Loki!” You bluster.

“Pet,” he growls as he buries himself in you over and over. “Do you feel… how much I want you?”

You moan and bite your lip, quivering in the dregs of your orgasm.

“Do you?” He rasps.

“Y-yes,” you babble.

He grunts and tears his hand from your throat. He brings both arms beneath you, hooking his fingers around your shoulders as he hangs his head down next to yours. He rams into you with all his strength, fucking you so you bounce against the bed.

Again, the pressure aches in you. It doesn't take much for it to snap again. You drone madly as pleasure flows from you. Loki drives harder and harder until you think you might break.

He growls and grunts, whipping his hair behind his head as he lifts himself. He slides out of you, your insides twitching, and slides his length along your tender lips, rubbing himself against your cunt as he tenses and shakes.

He cums with a gritty series of groans spilling hotly onto your pelvis and stomach, spreading the mess with his slowing motion. He drops his head and puffs. Dazed and drained, you reach to touch his shining stands. He flinches and raises his head, looking down at you with fiery hunger in his eyes.

He angles himself back and eases down, slipping inside of you once more. You squeal, oversensitive and worn out. He shudders and lifts you, sitting on his heels as he brings you onto his lap.

“Pet,” he utters, his tone agonized, “you will never leave me.”

He covers your mouth with his, swallowing down your shallow breaths as he rock you atop him. He trembles as he does, small whimpers spilling into you. But he doesn't stop. It's as if he means to consume you entirely.

You melt into his kiss and his embrace. You don't have the strength to deny him, you don't even have the energy to think. The world beyond your bodies is fuzzy and insignificant.

✨

The afternoon wears on in shades of blue. You lay beneath Loki’s arm as he dozes beside you. He needs the sleep so you let him be, happy to see him rest.

As you lay trapped, you grow restless. You shift from his grasp, gently leading his arm over the pillow. You get up, careful not to jostle too much, and retreat to the bathroom.

You relieve the pressure in you and sigh up at the ceiling. You rinse yourself and stand gingerly, thighs pulsing as they meet. You limp to the mirror and wince at your reflection.

You forgot it all. The tree cracking cartilage, the stain of dirt and blood, the unheard pleas. You grip the counter and hunch over the sink.

And what is so different now? Loki didn't want to hear you so he took. He took exactly what you promised but is it any better?

You feel sick and dizzy. It's just the concussion. It's the whirlwind of it all. You can't think straight.

You wanted it too, didn't you? You begged for more. You moaned in delight. You even came you don't know how many times.

So why does it feel so… strange?

You close your eyes and turn on the facet. You dab water around your face, trying not to wet the bandages, and centre yourself. There isn't much of a centre to be found. You are more lost than ever before.

He wants you, but do you want this? Do you even know what this is? It's all foggy and he refuses to wipe the glass clean.

You shut off the water and raise your head. Your eyes widen as you notice the figure behind your reflection. Loki stands in the doorway, his face unreadable.

“I thought you'd wandered off,” his voice is brittle as he approaches.

You shake your head and dry your hands, hanging the cloth back on it's hook. Before you can face him, he has you penned against the counter. He reaches to your chin and turns your head straight.

“Do you understand now, pet?” He lays a kiss on your crown, his eyes alight as he watches you ib the mirror.

“No,” you whisper and clear the frog from your throat, “I don't understand. Loki…” you shudder and stop his hand as it rests on your hip, “we need to talk about what happened.”

“We… did we not enjoy ourselves?” He asks with an arch in his brow, his other arm snaking around you.

“Not that,” you try futilely to escape him, “about Walpurgisnacht–”

He hushes you and tuts as he pushes you against the counter, “it's over now. Behind us. Let's not worry–”

“Loki,” you twist around and press your hands to his chest, “Thor–”

“Don't say his name,” he recoils and wags a finger at you, “ever. Not to me.”

“He–”

“Enough,” he snaps.

“I just want to move past it–”

“I am past it,” he insists, “it's as simple as that. Walpurgisnacht is over, this a new beginning. For us. Just us.”

“I… know, but–”

“But?” He sneers. “We are home. We are here. They will not bother us here. I will be certain of it.”

“Them? Loki? What does that mean? Frigga? Odin?”

He scoffs and waves his hand dismissively, “I told you this conversation is over.”

He spins on his heel and marches out. You gulp and follow him as he disappears into the bedroom. He snatches his robe from where it hand by the closet and continues to the door. You scurry to catch him but the door closes before you can reach him.

You feel the lock slide into place and throw your fists against the door, “Loki!”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

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heytheredelulu · 1 month

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First Thor movie baby Loki and his bestie getting into a fight and finally addressing the tension between them has been sitting in my drafts for months so sure, why not?

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as his grip tightened around your throat. “You truly believe that after all this time I would feel nothing for you?” You gasped out in frustration.

His thumb twitched against your jaw as he cocked his head inquisitively and his grip loosened slightly allowing you to draw in a deep breath. His touch sent your pulse quickening with such ferocity that you were sure he could feel it beating in his grasp. Swallowing hard against his palm in anticipation of his answer to your next question, you speak in a low whisper. “And after all this time do you truly feel nothing for me?”

His mouth parted slightly and you almost think you hear a shudder escape his taut lips. Slowly, his hand snakes upward to tilt your chin down to meet his gaze. You carefully study his emerald eyes and the small flecks of gold that litter his irises.

“Feel nothing for you?” He questions, his voice almost hoarse. You felt the grip of his hand on your jaw tighten and your body tense in response, suddenly aware of how large his hands were and how small and vulnerable you felt in their grasp. His eyes flashed with recognition as if he felt the fear rising within you and with a hard swallow, his grip slackened.

He drew in a deep breath and held it for several heartbeats before letting it go in a long, trembling exhale as he gently ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “Feel nothing for you?” He repeats in a pained tone, almost as if he cannot believe you’ve asked such a thing. “For as long as I can remember I have yearned for you.” He whispers harshly. “Everyday that I am in your presence my very soul aches with a desire that I had never known before I met you.”

He stepped forward to close the small gap between you, outstretching his left hand to find yours and bring it to rest against his chest. You can feel his heart thundering in his chest under your fingertips while his right hand continues to cup your cheek in a soft caress and as his eyes pin you under their intense gaze, he opens his mouth to speak again.

“Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve lay awake plagued with thoughts of you?” Hesitation momentarily flashes across those emerald eyes as he searches your face for an answer. He lets his lids flutter closed and swallows hard and when eyes open again they’re ablaze with pure unbridled lust.

He towers over you, his height easily a foot taller than your own and he’s leaned down so close now that his nose nearly touches yours. His sudden nearness causes your breath to catch and take a small step backwards, feeling your back collide with the marble wall. Your lips part slightly with intention to speak but his scent overwhelms you and the words are lost in your throat.

“Yes. Those thoughts.” He continues, positioning his large hands on each side of your head, palms flat against the stone. His words rose from his throat in a growl, “The things I wonder.” He mewls, his soft lips grazing your skin as they glide up the expanse of your jaw line. His breath is warm against your ear and he whispers, “How your skin would feel against my own.”

The words spark a flame low in your abdomen and a small whimper escapes you as his forehead dips enough to nuzzle against your temple.

“How you would sound as you come undone for me in the throes of your ecstacy.” Your cheeks flush hot in response to his brazen confession and you look up at him through your lashes, your eyes half-lidded.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson #marvel loki #baby loki #young loki

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percheduphere · 5 months

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LET'S TALK ABOUT MOBIUS'S HEAVY KEYS

I wrote a meta on S1 Mobius here, mostly exploring his interrogation persona and emotional trajectory toward S1E6. I also have a fun little list on all the things I love about him here.

@mitromana posted about how we should talk about Mobius's sass and even cruelty more. @wowwwmobius posted how Mobius realistically would not be doing well post-S2E6 (I wholeheartedly agree), and they and @inwantofamuse shared amazing comments. All of this inspired this meta.

Thank you @mitromana @wowwwmobius @inwantofamuse!

Mobius's interrogation scenes are him at his most cruel and ruthless. The flipside of being a highly empathetic person is that it is very VERY easy to use this skill in highly abusive, cunning, and powerful ways. This is especially true if the person armed with this skill is exceptionally intelligent and is convinced their motivations are good. At the TVA, before Loki's exposure of the truth, Mobius is both of these things. Worse, he has access to the TVA's more ethically unconscionable technology, which he does not hesitate to use.

The road to evil is paved with good intentions. Mobius strolls onto this road more than once, but he manages to not stay on it because two people curb this risk: Loki and, yes, Sylvie.

Take in Loki's words and posture in this scene. The words alone are a frail and weak comeback for a silver-tongue God of lies. They do nothing but reveal Loki is in FACT scared. His arms are crossed tightly over his abdomen, a primal protective response. He's leaned as far away from Mobius as possible. This is the best Loki can come up with in the face of a boring man in a boring suit, really?

You can see why Mobius was moved into the position of Analyst from Hunter. He may not be able to prune children, but he can literally bring a God like Loki to the ground, breathless, confused, and frightened, with nothing more than WORDS. And this is with a variant Mobius likes. Imagine what he can do to a variant he hates.

For HWR and Ravonna's purposes, Mobius is the perfect weapon to get whatever they want out of whatever variant they capture before sending them off to get pruned. How do they keep him from questioning anything?

Memory-wiping (more than once), brainwashing, propaganda, and:

A little something for Mobius's identity, something that fulfills his intrinsic need to take care of others while also gently stroking his ego.

Yes, the genocide of multiple timelines over the span of eons is horrifying. But Mobius is capable of being complicit with it as long as his environment feeds his intrinsic psychological and emotional needs. The people on the Sacred Timeline become his new children, and he will do anything ANYTHING to protect them.

There was one thing HWR and Ravonna didn't anticipate: that this man's empathy for a specific Loki would be the very thing that liberates the multiverse and his own bondage from a corrupt bureaucracy.

However...

I don't believe Mobius ever anticipated becoming emotionally compromised when he advocated on Loki's behalf. He likely genuinely believed that after centuries of studying Loki, he knew him well enough to make him useful for the TVA. But the subconscious, oh. That is a different story, and in Loki's own words, Mobius has a gift for lying to himself.

I discuss the interrogation scene and Sif loop scene in depth here, so I won't repeat myself, but I'd like to draw our attention to the 2 gifs below, framing my analysis:

Imagine where Mobius's mind must be at:

I spent centuries studying you and believing in you. I waited more centuries for your nexus event to come. I tasked every hunter to inform me of your arrival immediately, no matter what I was doing, no matter where I was. I abandoned a case. I ran to your trial. I put my job, reputation, and eons-long friendship with Ravonna on the line. I tested your theory. I brought you with me on the field. You talked to me. You challenged me. You made me proud. You made me laugh.

I gave you daggers and you stabbed me. You STABBED me. When all I wanted to give you was--

Mobius cracked hard and fast. Applaud Owen Wilson for THIS interpretation of the script and THIS delivery.

Thankfully, the very person who put Mobius in this fragile state of mind is also the person Mobius deeply wants to believe in. Even after being betrayed, Mobius still wants to believe in Loki and his capacity to be a wonderful person. And so he looks at Ravonna's TemPad, decides Loki deserves to be with whoever he wants to be with (even if that person will never be Mobius himself), frees Loki to help him save the woman he loves, and gets pruned for it.

Mobius survives thanks to plot-armor. And who is the first person he meets?

The bane of his existence.

And Sylvie wastes no time driving a knife into a very fresh wound. Mobius, however, only recently unleashed all his rage. His reservoir for compartamentalizing has refreshed, so he can take Sylvie's truth bravely, without a flinch, and acknowledge that truth with one of his own.

Mobius owns it. He doesn't deny it. He tacitly agrees with her and gives her a reason why.

We should remember how dangerous Mobius can be. He is currently sitting in a car with the variant he is most likely to hate. Sylvie is strong, clever, and resilient, but her ability to regulate her emotions is weak, especially if she is triggered. Mobius can destroy her very easily with his words.

But Mobius can't hate her. He can't. She was right and he was wrong, but most importantly Loki loves her.

He won't hurt the person Loki loves most. No. He will take her to him instead. He can stomach the pain, the disappointment. He's good at that. Loki's well-being, his happiness, comes first.

In fact, Mobius stomachs Sylvie's knife twists a second time and chooses not to defend himself. I don't doubt a large part of him agrees with her. Nevertheless, he can't help but hope Loki might stand up for him in that moment. He tries, and fails, to make light of it by rolling his eyes and turning to his friend. When Loki leaves him not explaining why, his true feelings about this interaction surfaces on his face.

Aren't you going to say anything?

The saddest thing is that this is the LAST intimate moment THIS Mobius has with Loki before Loki crosses the gangway and never returns. This is it. This is what he's left with: the thought Loki didn't care enough to defend him and Loki leaving.

HE doesn't get to hear that he's just trying to see in the dark and is doing everything he can to keep the surviving timelines alive. SYLVIE does.

HE doesn't get to hear Loki tell him he saved his life. DON does.

HE doesn't get the final goodbye and "thank you, Mobius", his PAST SELF does. And if Mobius happens to remember this moment in the present, he will know that he was the one who propelled Loki to bear this massive burden ALONE.

My worry for Mobius post-S2E6 is that he is more than talented at ignoring his own needs and addressing his own problems. He is infinitely better--a master, even--at taking care of anyone else. It's a devastating flaw, but it comes from a very raw place:

His heart, his soul, will always remember being a single parent.

Being a parent at all is hard to begin with. There are only so many hours in a day, and the majority of it is devoted to putting someone else's needs before your own. Being a single parent is even harder. You might have a few people to help you, but ultimately, there's no partner to share every high and low intimately. To be a single parent of not one but TWO children?

Game over.

Some viewers have interpreted Don ignoring his sons' phone calls at work as negligent. Honestly, I don't think that's the case. He will call them back. Don is Mobius and Mobius is Don. He will take care of them. But refusing every beck and call at work is the only personal boundary he has. He cannot have many boundaries for himself at home or anywhere else. He has to decline not one but two calls for his own sanity. Nevermind that he works Monday through Saturday, nine to five, to make enough money to keep them healthy and happy. Where is the break? There is none. This is Don's glorious purpose.

Mobius leaving the TVA is understandable for two crucial reasons: One, it is a reminder of all his horrifying acts and complicity. Two, it is a reminder Loki is no longer there. But by leaving the TVA, Mobius separates himself from his only support system. That's not good. That is decidely unhealthy. The fact that it doesn't cross B-15, Casey, or OB's minds that this is a very bad idea tells you everything you need to know about the number of genuinely close friends Mobius has.

Mobius has two. He walked away from one to be with the second, and the second walked away from him, too. TWICE.

But he still loves him anyway.

When you take a man like this and take away everything that's kept him functional: the TVA, Ravonna, Loki, and then show him a content life in which he cannot even be with his own children because another version of him already exists, what do you think will happen to him given we've seen how violently Mobius can snap?

And guess what: only one person has ever seen Mobius snap on more than one occasion. Only one person understands the triggers and how to handle them. I'll give you three guesses as to who it is.

Mobius "has a happy ending" is absolute bullshit. He is at risk.

#loki #mobius #lokius #loki series #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #loki meta #sylvie #my meta

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